Even in Death 11

Femi was at Wale's bedside the following day. She watched the rise and fall of his chest in bemusement. Funny how some cling to life with tenacity. Refusing to let go of what can not be held to. Whilst others pray for death, others struggle to be parted from it in an exercise in futility.

Femi played the dotting wife even as she looked at her husband broodingly. She was tired of the hospital visits and wished him gone now more than ever before. Their business was finished. She could not continue wasting her time and energy on a betrayer, a back stabber and an ingrate.

Another week passed and one sunny afternoon, for the first time after the accident, he opened his eyes. They were all alone in the room and she was about dozing off when intuition made her look his way. He looked bewildered and then fearful as he set his eyes on her, she looked at him unfazed, somehow she knew he wanted to tell her something. Somehow, she knew he would pass away in a few minutes. He struggled to say something for a few minutes. She could see his vocal cords desperately fighting to speak but no sound came out…and with a sigh after the aborted attempt, he passed away. It was then Femi rang for the nurse, acting incoherent and agitated. She was careful however to omit the part where he had briefly woken up.

The doctor was sent for and a nurse led her crying form out

‘Nurse, I hope my husband is not dead. Why is he not breathing?!’ She cried

The nurse tried to comfort her as best as she could…but they both knew Wale was gone.

Wale passed away at exactly 1pm on Sunday, the first Sunday of the month.

Soon the hospital was besieged by crying relatives. It was a mad house. Some rolled on the floor, some were screaming and had to be restrained. It was a sad day for many, save one.

Femi was taken to her parents house. But, the next day she insisted on going back to her matrimonial home, now hers alone. Her mother and sister moved in with her to keep an eye on her.

Femi cried for the love she and Wale once shared. She cried over the betrayal, she cried because her husband had had a taste of parenting whilst she had never and could never have a taste of it. She cried at the unfairness of life and the cards she had been dealt with. But she did not cry over the fact that she had set her husband on the irreversible path to the after life.

She sometimes wondered at what he had wanted to tell her. She remembered the fear, the terror in his eyes when he had looked at her. She thought grimly that he had underestimated her and what she was capable of.

‘Well! Let him go and be parenting in hell! Bastard!’

The family out of respect to her decided to have the burial planned out in her house.

They arrived in the cars she had bought for them in time past. She smiled grimly as she viewed their arrival from her bedroom window upstairs. She dressed carefully in a very expensive black kaftan, with black pearls and her signature perfume, she was determined to intimidate them with her outfit.

They were seated as she swept into the room, each murmured their platitudes as she sat down on the lone high back chair in the sitting room. Her mother and sister sat somewhere in the background. She looked at each of them with respect but felt only disdain for them in her heart.

Her gaze rested on his eldest sister, the one Wale called aunty Simisola…hmmm…nothing about her was remotely wealthy. She was a three time divorcee married to men who were poor in wealth but rich in sugar coated words. She publicly called her Aunty too but inwardly called her by name. She had no respect for a woman who could not marry. ..responsibly and who was always dependent on her younger brother’s wife for sustenance. She had recently finished paying the school fees of her three older children in the university. All that would end now, after she had had her way, she would bare her fangs. Relatives of a bloody betrayer!

Her gaze rested on his elder brother, the one after Simisola. That one was a complete ne'er do well. He was a high school dropout with no future ambition or better yet, the only ambition he ever had was to be a parasite living off the back of his wealthy sister in law. Wale of course referred to him as Brother Olajire. Hmmm. Wealth waking up with/in this man was completely untrue!

The others, Bola, Tolani, Yemisi were also parasites in every way. All that was gonna stop. She owed them nothing but owed herself everything. The chord that had held them in an ungainly relationship was broken now and forever.

She greeted them and spoke about the desire of her husband not to be buried but to be cremated. She went ahead to tell them Wale had appeared to her severally in her dreams to express this desire. In fact, she continued by saying if he was not cremated he would go on a haunting expedition to all their houses. She knew how lily livered and selfish they were. She had spoilt them silly and they were not willing to doubt any information from the hands that fed them. She knew she spoke convincingly from the fear she saw on their faces, yet, stubbornly, Aunty Simisola asked that they be excused to talk privately but Brother Olajire vehemently opposed the idea

‘Kilatunfeso?!(What do we have to say again?!.) Our dearest sister has spoken. We have no choice but to adhere'

Femi hid a smile. She had recently sent him a sum of a hundred thousand naira to settle one of his usual urgent debts for he was an incurable gambler. Her money was working.

The others looked at themselves and agreed with him. Aunty Simisola had no choice but to agree as well.

‘Shebi you wanted to show you’re the first born abi. Lori iro!( on top of a plateau of lies!)

She instructed the maid to serve them cold drinks before excusing herself to her room. Success! Wale was going to spend the rest of his existence, so to speak in an urn….in her arms alone.

The cremation was done and she was given her husband's ashes which was kept in an urn.

She took it with her anywhere she went and hugged it to herself at night in bed. Sometimes she would speak to it and at other times she just held it to her heart. It was almost as if Wale was alive again. No one could share him with her now. She had her husband all to herself. They had just each other, forever, even in death.

 

The End