Episode 4
THE UNDERCOVER
“What?. 70 percent? 70 percent?. 70 percent of my husband’s property?. I should give you 70 percent of everything my husband owned?”
The widow was taken by surprise. Though I couldn’t see her face in the dark, I could tell fear was written all over it. .
….Sir, you know that is not possible”. She stated.
“Why?”. I asked.
“Because I have children…. I have…” She was still talking before I interrupted her.
“Same children you mμrdered their father?”. I said sarcastically.
She paused for a few seconds.
“Sir, I didn’t mμrder their father. What happened that evening was an incident. I told you. That man almost turned me into a punching bag. I was only defending myself. I had no intention of k¡lling him. You have to believe me”. She tried to explain, but she and I knew that there’s no justification for mμrder.
“Why don’t you go to the police station and explain to them?”. I asked.
She paused again before she continued.
“Sir, I’m not adding anything to the ten million naira I have given you earlier”. She said.
“It’s fine. I mean I’m not going to force you. But I want you to get ready to r0t in jail”. I said.
“Sir, do you realize you’re blackmailing me?”. She asked.
“Am I?” I asked.
“Yes, you’re. And I want you to remember that you were an accomplice”. She said.
I had a very good laugh at that.
“Madam, you seem to have forgotten what I am. I am not your mate in this kind of game. I had to remind her.
Silence was entertained for a while.
…Please, go down. I want to leave”. I requested.
She opened the car door, and closed it back. Then she exhaled.
“Sir, please, this thing you’re doing is w¡ckedness. Pure w¡ckedness”. She said
…. Okay, I’m sorry. I will give you 20 percent”. She added when I wasn’t responding.
“Madam, please, leave my car and let me get out of here”. I said, without turning to look at her.
“Okay. Let me give you 40…okay 45…47, 48…Hmmm 50”. She finally said….exactly what I wanted.
And that’s how I ended up with a 50% share of the dead man’s assets, including his real estate and companies he secretly managed, all transferred to me. Mind you, I used a different ID. In other words, I lived a double life.
All my operations were performed in peace of the night. With time, I was able to work with managers and bankers of four different banks where all my illégal transactions were being carried out.
I was living a lonely life until one hot afternoon in February, while myself and the other colleagues were observing our lunch break under a mango tree in front of the office, our attention was drawn to an elderly woman hawking plantain chips along the road. The woman carrying an infant on her back and a toddler in hand, while balancing her goods on her head. I lost my appetite at the sight.
“Why is she stressing those kids?”. I murmured.
We watched silently as she crossed the main road to meet us.
“Why are you exposing these children to this scorching sun?”. I was forced to repeat the question in her presence.
“Oga, I’m not happy doing this, but if I don’t, they won’t see food to eat”. She said.
“What about their mama?”. Another officer asked.
“My daughter?.She died”. She frowned at the thought.
That last sentence attracted pity from everyone present. One after the other, we bought her wares so she can go home with the children.
“But what about your daughter’s husband?”. One of the officers asked.
“She no get”. The woman replied, abruptly.
Though the manner she gave the response was amusing, and the others laughed, I didn’t find it funny at all. Especially as she began to frequent our station after that meeting with her.
One day, I approached her.
“Do you mind working in my house?”. I asked.
Just a few words was enough to convince her. She moved in with me the next morning. And that was how Madam Mary came to live with me. This story belongs to Joy Ifunanya
A year later, I got married to Judith.
Most women nowadays want to work and dispute the head of the household with their husbands, while keeping a close eye on their every move. Judith, however, is unique; despite having a degree, she doesn’t plan to work…she had no intentions of working or so I thought.
“I want to be a housewife”. She said, without mincing words.
Though strange, that’s what sparked my love for her; I needed someone who wouldn’t be nosy about my activities, given by the kind of life I live.
We married within three months of courtship, and her younger sister, who had been staying with her, moved in with us after the wedding.
Along the line, one of my cousins gained admission, and her mother asked if she could stay with me, since I was the only relative living in the city where the school is located. Since my house is large enough to accommodate the whole extended family, I had no problem with that too.
So that’s how I ended up with all four women sheltering under my roof and feeding off my pocket.
Marriage didn’t change my wife a bit. She still maintained her nonchalant nature. Her routine revolves around the salon where she does her hair every Friday, the spa, the gym and then some evenings, she hangs out with her group of unserious friends. She has no time for our twins. And each time I confronted her about it, she always has one response for me 👇
“And what is the work of madam Mary?. Why are we paying her?”.
It got to the point that I got tired of complaining. Whenever I have the chance, I hang out with my kids.
Most nights, I come home to her sleeping. I leave the house in the middle of the night to attend meetings, and return as early as 5am the following morning. And each time, my wife will still be on the bed sleeping…I doubt if she ever moved in her sleep.
This was how it had been until one morning, I took permission from work to attend to an urgent matter.
“I need to pick something from home”. I said to the secretary. But that was not the case. The truth was that I needed to have a meeting with the manager of one of the banks I operate in before he leaves the country the next day.
It was a five minute meeting, and on my way out, one of the staff called me to a corner.
“What is it?”. I asked, impatiently.
“Sir, I don’t know what business you have with the bank manager, but I advise that you tread with caution”. He said.
“I don’t understand”. I asked, confused.
“This is the second time I’m noticing this. Someone is always coming in here behind you”. She said.
“Someone? Coming in behind me?”. I asked.
“Yes. A woman in a nose mask”. He replied.
