A man is not as strong as you think. A man is not as strong-willed as you think. A man is not as rugged as you think. I would know because people had told me how stubborn and difficult Ibekwe could be, and so they are surprised that I’m able to live with him, despite having had two children with another man, despite not being a fresh leaf.
They said I must have gone somewhere and got some charms with which I held him down, na njipia. You know that sort of stories portrayed in Nollywood movies in the early 2000s, stories of wives or girlfriends holding their partners with charms collected from powerful dibias. I think we Nigerians have consumed so much of those movies that we now think that every successful marriage must be dependent on charms. They said there must be something I did, or I’m doing, that has made it possible for us to live together.
My first husband died of motor accident, God bless his soul, and it wasn’t up to a year before I met Ibekwe. What do you suppose a woman should do? Ibekwe had never married before, but according to the stories I’ve heard, he had cast off some girlfriends, and when he saw me, I was the one he chose to marry. His family were enraged when he took me to them. “Of all women to marry, Ibekwe, you chose a widow with two children. What has come over you?” they asked.
They gave me odd stares which did not really bother me. I knew too well that I wasn’t forcing myself on anybody. I was on my own when Ibekwe came asking to marry me. I had not expected to remarry too soon, but I was a woman. When I saw how genuine he was, how honest he was, how loving he was, and how sexy he was, I decided to accept his proposal. Ibekwe is the sexiest man I ever met. I don’t know if people of today actually use sexy to describe a man, but permit me to use it here, biko. I hope he wouldn’t read this, that I’m calling him sexy. That man is also a reader.
Ibekwe’s people were enraged because Ibekwe should marry a fresh leaf, ọnụ-ugu, not someone who had been used by another man. Ibekwe insisted I was the one he would marry. It was me or no other person. Ibekwe loved me. He knew I had two kids. He knew I had married before. He even knew my husband when he was alive. He heard about the news of his death in a motor accident, but Ibekwe chose to marry me, befuddling many connoisseurs of what a proper wife should be for a man who had not married before. I had mourned my dead husband for eleven months before I met Ibekwe in the new supermarket in town. I had gone to get some bread for I and my children when he walked up to me to help. He asked for my phone number and I gave it to him. He was handsome and charming. There was a soothing effect that his eyes gave.
When he called in the evening I didn’t hesitate to tell him that I was a widow with two kids. I wasn’t ready for any wahala. I wanted to have peace within myself. I wanted to be truthful so that I would be able to sleep in the nights, so that I wouldn’t be worried about covering up lies. I told him my truth, and we started dating. When I went to bed in the night I slept peacefully, knowing fully well that I wasn’t deceiving anyone. I wasn’t lying to anyone. I was surprised that he knew my dead husband. He was a bit popular in Aba, an upcoming singer who would later die in a motor accident on his way to perform in a function in Lagos. “He was the one who performed on my elder brother’s wedding ceremony some years ago. Emenike was his name,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “Emenike was his name. Emenike Onyeudo.”
That night, after we talked, I cried for a few minutes, because we talked about Emenike in the past tense: was.
.
A man is not difficult to love and please when the man knows your spirit and soul. I’m Ibekwe’s fresh leaf. I’m the perfect ọnụ ugu for him, because we are still living together after a couple of years, because Ibekwe’s love for me is out of this world, because the connoisseurs of what a perfect marriage should entail are not truthful.
Author’s Note:
Among the Igbo people of Nigeria, a fresh leaf or ọnụ ugu is a young woman who had never been married before, and who is probably a virgin.
Isaac Dominion Aju lives in Nigeria where he works as a fashion designer. His literary works encompasses poetry, essays and fiction. He has appeared in Poetry X Hunger, Kalahari Review, Flapper Press, Steel Jackdaw magazine, and Synchronized Chaos Magazine.