Devil’s Deal

It was late on the eve of Wednesday, and though the sun still shone bright, one could tell the day was closing as the sun retreated West of the sky. On fast feet, Imabong went home, certain to meet her both parents, Mr&Mrs Ndamifiok, at the hour and share the news of her engagement.

She did meet her parents, though not alone, for as soon as she entered the living room, she noticed the strange-looking visitor, whose shoulders were nearly as tall as his head and his chest bulged as if he were inhaling and did not know how to exhale. There was a sealed bottle of gin on the floor and an almost finished one, together with a shot glass, stable on the side stool where the visitor was seated.

“Ah, here she is” Mr. Ndamifiok welcomed his daughter with much enthusiasm, “he was only asking about you seconds ago” he explained.

“Mokom-o (good day)” Imabong greeted respectfully, with a curt smile.

“Mme- kom nde (you too)” the visitor responded from lungs that have drowned more alcohol than it has water. “Oga Ifiok” referring now to Imabong’s father, “I'll see you again, and then I hope for a good reply”.

Rubbing his stomach with short fat fingers, he bowed only as far as his neck would let him, for he looked as though he would choke should he go any further downward, then turning to Imabong, he gave her a big grin, causing her nerves to flip.

Mr. Ndamifiok saw the stranger out to the gate, watching him struggle to push his feet forward to reach the red jeep parked beside the fence, and yet struggle more to lift his body into the driver’s seat before waving goodbye.

“Heh,” Mr. Ndamifiok breathed when he joined Imabong and her mother in the living room, adjusting the wrapper on his waist and beaming from cheek to cheek. “Imabong” he called.

“Papa good evening sir” she answered.

“Good evening my daughter. This one you came to see us today and you didn't even tell us you were coming. I would have entered the farm today to get boro (unripe plantain)”.

It was then Imabong recalled why she came to see them, her good news, and the smile that left her when she saw the strange man, returned.

“Don't worry papa, I'm not staying for long. I just came to share a piece of good news with you and Mama”.

Moving from where she had been standing, she went to sit on the armrest of the chair where her father sat.

“Hmm, this good news that you couldn't just tell us on the phone,” her mom said, taking a seat also beside her husband.

“Mama. Papa” she held their gaze from beneath her eyes, smiling at them and keeping their feet on edge.

“This girl. What is it?” her mom asked, smiling back at her, though also running out of patience.

Imabong brought forward her left hand, revealing a shiny ring around her fourth finger. Her face was still expanded in a smile, but when she saw she wasn't getting the reaction she expected from them, she retraced her hand.

“What is it?” Imabong asked, confused about her mother’s sudden gloom and her father’s harsh stare.

“What is it? What is that?” Mr. Ndamifiok scolded.

“Ah-ah? It's…”

“You better go and return it to whoever gave it to you” he cut her short.

“Dear…” Mrs Ndamifiok tried calming her husband by rubbing his back but he cut her short too.

“Leave me alone” he yelled, “Go and return that ring” he stood up to leave them.

“What do you mean ‘return the ring’?” Imabong questioned him, harnessing every will to remain calm in the situation. “I'm getting married”.

At that, Mr. Ndamifiok stopped and turned to face her.

“Getting marr what? Married? To who?” he asked.

“Caleb”.

“Caleb! Oh, she's getting married to Caleb. Who's Caleb? Woman, do you know this Caleb?”

“Umm, she has mentioned him” Mrs. Ndamifiok answered with her head bowed, as if scared her husband's fury would burn her should she look up at him.

“Mentioned him?” Imabong drew back, shocked at her mother’s response. “I've told you about him severally. Told you when we met, our first date, even sent you the gift he bought you for your birthday”.

“Wow! So two of you have been conniving” Mr. Ndamifiok assumed.

“Coniving? Papa, what are you even talking about?”

“What I'm saying is you're not getting married to someone I don't know. You see that man that just left, that's your husband”.

“What?!” Imabong shouted. “Over my dead body”

“Ah, then be prepared to die, because you won't be marrying Caleb on my watch”

“Watch what you say!” Mrs. Ndamifiok raised her voice slightly at him.

“Shut up your mouth” he ordered his wife and she returned to her head bowed pose.

“Papa I'm not marrying that man, I don't know him” Imabong protested.

“And I don't know Caleb”

“You're not marrying him, I am, and I know him and I love him” she yelled.

“Love?” he laughed, “What do you know about love? You think is that thing you young people deceive yourselves with so that you can sleep with each other? That's not love. The only love that exists is the one between us and God, parents and their children, and the one you'll get to know after marriage. Any other thing is a waste of time”.

“Ok, Papa I don't know what ancient of days person taught you that, and I'm not here to argue with you whether I know what love is or not, I've come to tell you that I'm getting married to Caleb, the man I have come to love. Call it a waste of time or whatever, yes, he's the one I'd rather waste my time with” She stood up, about to leave.

“If you leave this place, and resolve that's the man you want to marry… don't ever come back”.

Imabong turned sharply at his words, and her mother looked up at him, her lips apart in both shock and fear of her husband’s decree, but she soon returned to her original pose, and Imabong shifted her glance from her father to her mother.

“You'll just sit there and say nothing?” she asked her mom, who now looked up at her, with tears-filled eyes she was battling to contain.

“You'll just sit there and say nothing,” Imabong said, tears filling her eyes too. Then she stomped, bypassing her father and heading to the room where she slept whenever she came to visit.

“Dear please” Mrs. Ndamifiok begged on her knees, but her husband wouldn't budge. He stood there in the middle of the living room, waiting to know what Imabong’s final decision would be.

Mrs. Ndamifiok, resolved by her husband's stubbornness not to head to her plea, turned the doorknob to Imabong’s room and found her carelessly packing what little things she had in the room; her nightwares, and a few other clothes, her toothbrush, sponge, and a small picture frame of she and her parents when she was still a kid.

“Imabong” her mother cried, “please don't do this”

“Go away,” she said sternly, trying not to show any emotion, though her eyes were painted red already.

“Imabong please!”

“Oh now you can talk? You didn't say anything before, but suddenly you can talk”.

She waited, burning furiously, to hear what her mother might say and trusting herself to have the perfect response for it and the tone to say it with so it would pierce her, but her mother could say nothing even if she wanted, for her sobs were louder than words. Imabong hissed and continued parking.

After a short while of not saying anything, while fighting the many conversations going on in her head, Imabong started.

“You know I tried to understand you all my life. When Papa said I should leave my secondary school and start afresh at a boarding school, you knew, I told you I didn't want to go to a boarding school, but did you say let alone do anything? No! When I told you I wanted to be an art student and Papa forced me into science, did you do anything? No! When I'd come home with anything less than sixth position and Papa would flog me like I was a criminal, did you do anything? No!” the tone of her voice rose with each question she asked.

“Now” she paused to swallow the gulp of mucus that was choking her lungs, “I told you I want to get married to Caleb, and you outrightly denied knowing him, right in front of me” She shook her head at her weeping mother.

“All these years, I've tried to understand you and console myself by believing that I was young and every decision you both made was because you knew better, but no, not anymore. I'm older now, I can make my own decisions, and I'm marrying Caleb” she shouted the last bit so her father could hear her.

“Imabong” was all her mother could utter in between her sobs.

When she was done parking and was about to leave the room, she turned to her mother and one last time said “You're a coward” Then she carried on outside the house, ignoring her father who was now seated on the couch in the living room.