There
was nothing particularly appealing about Afua Mansa. She was the ordinary type
of woman; none too beautiful; none too ugly. She went to the riverside with the
other woman, she gossiped with them. She wore ordinary-looking clothes. She was
in every way an ordinary woman of Tama.
However, there was one reason why that must not be; a t
least, as far as the laws of society and indeed of the village were concerned,
Afua Mansa was married. Married to Kuma-Duo. She was third and youngest wife.
But Kofi Atubra was not a man of scruples. As far as he was
concerned everything would be all right if only he could win her over without
being caught. Afua Mansa’s own disposition would make things easy. After all,
everyone knew the type of life she led before being married. All would be well,
he told himself.
Indeed it was not difficult for Atubra. As soon as Afua
Mansa consented, they weighed the situation and fixed their date. She could not
come to his house because Atubra was married too. His wife was Serwa; a friend
of Mansa and also a shrew. She would have no such things in her house; or it would be
hell-come-to-earth. She would scream and tear the house down to shreds. If
Atubra and his new found lover did not like to be discovered and splashed with
shame, they had better discard such ideas.
He could not dream of taking her to a friend’s house either
no matter how close, for morals were revered in the village.
There was only one course left. He would have to go to Afua
Mansa’s house and into her own room. Mansa, although married, still lived in
her parent’s house. Her husband visited her at night but not every night.
Whenever he went to the choral singing practice on Friday and Sunday evenings,
he preferred sleeping with his second wife whose house was close by the chapel.
Only on rare occasions did he break this habit.
Thus every Friday and Sunday evening Kofi Atubra deceived
his unsuspecting wife that he was off to the local Bobobo dance. Afua Mansa usually half-opened her window as a safty
sign for Atubra. While the Bobobo
played itself out, Kofi Atubra danced to its tune in Mansa’s soft bosom.
A month went by without accident. Maybe Mansa was
intoxicated with her extra-marital life, or she was just a gossip
extraordinary. Soon she was leaving vital pieces of information that alarmed
those who had her husband’s welfare at heart. News always had feet and walked
on them to whom it concerned. So it happened that Kuma-Duo heard of the illicit
love affair. Though at first he did not
believe it, he decided to verify it all the same.
He visited Mansa everyday of the week, but he found the
rumours untrue. As he always went early, whenever Atubra came on those two days
and found the windows closed, he knew there was danger, and scuttled away while
the going was good. Kuma-Duo decided not to question his wife about the rumours
lest she got alarmed and warned her illicit lover.
He met Kofi Atubra often at the local palm-wine bar; they
drank together, talked as usual but it seemed to him that he stated at him too
long, as though he would say something, but no. However, he was sure he could
discern a frown in those staring eyes. Or was it suspecting him of having heard
of it?
One Friday, the week after Kuma-Duo heard the news, he got a
bit drunk and when after bathing he lay in his lazy chair, he dozed off and slept quite deeply. When he
woke up the moon was up. His choir-mates might have ended the singing practice
long since. Then he remembered his decision. Wearily, he fetched his cloth,
picked up his torch and started for Mansa’s house.
He reached the house and walked to the veranda. He heard the
creaking of the bed and muffled human voices coming from within. He tiptoed to
the doorstep and applied his ears to the key-hole. So it was true after all;
Mansa had a lover. For a minute or two, absolute numbness of unbelief kept his
anguish at bay. Then the blood surged within him. He longed to crash the door
and jumped on whoever had such audacity. He would shake Mansa violently. But
wiser counsel soon took hold of him, and studied his trembling limbs. A better
plan was formulating itself in his head. He abandoned his rash instincts and
tapped lightly on the door.
No comments:
Post a Comment