Decade
Blogs
Amongst my many friends on Twitter, I was happy when Pearl Ijeoma Ezeokeke agreed to write for my #YourBlogOnMyBlog
Series commemorating my Decade
of Blogging.
I read this story, and I gasped, in shock and in recognition; if the authorities heard of every occurrence of this, Nigerian newspapers would have no spare space for news.
It is the issue of employer – employee relations, where the former
literally has omnipotence over the latter on all matters of life, decision and existence to the extent of
egregious and unconscionable abuse.
From the late or non-payment of salaries through mental torture and
bullying to aggravated grievous bodily harm, all done with impunity and with no
consequence or accountability.
Besides the obvious, it highlights the way people tackle spousal
infidelity, taking it out on the vulnerable party and the way parents crudely
apply themselves to sex education through the use of terror, fear and threats. This is a
riveting read.
Pearl Ijeoma Ezeokeke blogs at http://olorungemstone.com
and she writes in 140 characters via @PearlEze
She
She had woken up on the wrong side of the bed that Saturday morning. Truth be told, she always woke up on the wrong side, like she was fighting demons and in-laws in her dreams and brought the whole shindig out into the real world. They all knew it was going to be a bad day, they could tell from her demeanour, but did not know what was in store, did not expect it.
They had just had breakfast, and since it was a Saturday, her daughters did not have to go to school so they escaped to the swing and white sand outside. The eldest was seven years old, and they had all witnessed how violent she could get when she was in such a mood. As usual, their father was away. He was not home very much.
One wonders if it had to do with the fact that his wife was only able to
give him girl-children, three now. His mother wanted him to leave his wife and
find a woman who could give them sons to carry the family name. It did not
matter that he had three other brothers it was their tradition.
She knew he was sleeping around. She knew he was unfaithful. She knew he
was having sex with the house helps every single one of them. She had no proof whatsoever,
but she knew. They say women have a sixth sense about these things.
The girls heard the shouting and screaming coming through the front doors.
For a few minutes, they kept on swinging, acting as if nothing was happening.
Like they didn’t know that someone was on the verge of being beaten to a pulp
inside the house. It had happened before, more than once. They were scared and
helpless – from whence doth their help come from?
She started screaming their names from the kitchen. There was no
escaping now.
When they got there, they found her on the ground, the pretty house help
beneath her. She had her by the hair and was banging her head on the floor. The
eldest daughter rushed to her and tried to stop her hands from such wickedness,
but she was like one possessed. The girls started crying. Weeping. Then she
looked up at them and scolded them to shut up!
Her eyes, there was something about her eyes… Evil lived within.
She got up and moved over to a corner in the kitchen where mortar and
pestle sat. The girls had not seen it there what with all the ruckus. She bent down,
scooped pounded fresh chilli pepper from it, and then went back to the house
help. She held her down and forced her leg between the house help’s legs to
push them apart, then looked at her daughters.
“If I catch anyone of you with any boy or any man, I will do the same
thing to you.”
Then she proceeded to show them what she would do.
-o-o-
I celebrate you on this decade of blogging. Your consistency and dedication is absolutely admirable and worthy of emulation. My prayer for you is ka o n'aga aga.
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