Dat morrin as I wan baff na so I dey put ear for dis babe music, Omawunmi, dat song wey she sing say, ‘If you ask me, na who I go ask?’ My madam don comot tey tey and I know say before she go come back e go still tey, so I say before I baff make I carry my body go upstairs for her and oga room. E get one fine white trouser wey she buy and I be one go taste am because I hear say person yansh dey come out well well for white trouser especially if you no wear pant or you wear g-string. Before I go continue my tori make I talk about my madam and oga dem.
My Madam: She no too good, she no too bad. Sometimes when I go market come back late, she no go even send me. She go just talk say, “Ehen, I know you went to see your boyfriend. Thank God you didn’t stay too long. Now hurry into the kitchen, my baby would soon be back.”
And sometimes when I wash clothes and the ting still get small stain, she go talk say, “You are too dirty Mary, sometimes I wonder if your undies are even clean”; and the annoying ting be say na infront of oga she go shout the whole ting so tey my oga come dey look me one kain.
My Oga: He no too good, he no too bad. Na to dey blow grammer up and down like say im be professor, but I hear say im no even finish unifersity say as im papa die, d guy jus use im papa money push im business so tey the business come grow yakata, now my oga na big man. The man no dey eye me o, na jus jeje all of us be for house.
Myself: Eferibodi know say I be cool babe. I no dey like wahala, na only to dey wish say one day I go be like my madam. I go get housemaid full ground. One go dey wash my clothes, another one go dey iron my clothes, another one go dey cook my food and the last one go dey go market, abi wetin man pickin want again for this world?
So make I continue my tori. As I enter dem madam room, I jus go straight to the wardrobe because I no wan waste time. I rush comot my wrapper, come wear the trouser. Omo men, if you see as the ting fine for my body ehn, you go wan tief me! Na as I dey comot the trouser na im I hear person dey come the room side. Omo, see as I dive enter the wardrobe, even Jackie Chan for give me award. The door open and as I hear my oga voice dey talk with im phone, e be like say dem pour cold water for my body, wetin I go talk say I dey do for dia room?
“Yes, it’s fine. I was thinking we could go for that art exhibition taking place at the art gallery.”
I no know wetin the pesin reply am but I hear as im laff.
“No, Tunde. I am married and you know I wouldn’t stray. If you bring that lady over to the exhibition, I may persuade wifey to come with me and that could be quite unpleasant for the lady and yourself. Quit trying to make me fall man, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt my wife. Look I’m going to put you on the speaker because I want to take off my clothes”
Chei, Oga abeg no comot your cloth, abeg! God where you dey? But e be like say even God dey use me play as my oga comot im cloth finish come even mess on top.
“You are crazy men! Why would you fart like that with me on speaker?” The voice from the phone ask my oga.
“Really, that’s a ridiculous question. I can do whatever I want in my house. Moreover I am alone.”
Abeg Oga you no dey alone o, no mess again abeg. Kai! The mess smell no be small. Shey na de food wey I dey cook dey make oga mess smell like this?
“Hey man, I’ve got to go. I want to have my bath and freshen up before wifey comes home. We’ll talk later.”
My oga cut the call come enter bathroom. I manage come outside as I say make I look for my wrapper wey I throw inside wardrobe wen oga dey come, na im one big abarra land for my back.
“So this is what you and my husband do, when I am not around?!”
All my body shock and piss nearly comot as I bin hear madam voice for my back. Una don forget say I no wear pant and my yansh jus chook outside as I bin wan bend down carry my wrapper. As I turn face madam, I jus weak because I know no how I wan take talk am. Make una helep me!
________
What to do, what to do?
This is a short story by Enoquin. Read more from her on Naijastories.
Culled from Whynewhitmanwrites.com
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