The Furor (part 2) by Isidinma Nnamdi


During lunchtime, you will have takeaway deliveries with Obumneke in her office as usual, where you both will laugh and gist about Instagram blogs, Lagos life or her latest boyfriend. 

   And even though she doesn’t mean to hurt you even more; even though you’ve told her to stop pitying you, Obumneke will not help it. She too will flash you that concerned, confused eye that everyone else in the office shares when they think you are’t looking. 

    The eye that spoke more loudly than words that said, “why are you still with him?”.

     But, once again, that secret inner fake smile will appear.

    And when the time finally comes at last by 7pm that day; when you are sure Gabriel should be on his way home with his pregnant Masiri after the Lagos traffic, you will drop the Divorce papers on the dinning table.

   As you drop them, your fingers will glide over the other papers on your hands, the ones that state Gabriel’s transference of all his stocks in the company back to you; the ones that transferred the millions he’d embezzled in foreign accounts back to you.

   As your fingers glide over them, you will feel a sudden hesitation. 

   The years spent loving Gabriel will come to you again…those moments spent in bliss and happiness will come rushing to you. 

   But then, suddenly in your mind’s eye, you will see him and Masiri’s future perfect family in your head. You will picture it so vividly that it will block all other thoughts. 

  And with a little hiss and click of your tongue, you will set the rest of the signed documents primly on the table, slide off your wedding ring, and walk out the door.

                           . . . . . .

  Suddenly, a loud ringing noise appears from nowhere.

  “Heiss! Oya, make una wake up o! It’s 7am already. Let’s get ready to get to work on the bush today. Oya, stand up!”.

   The noise moves from one end to the other and you realize it’s a whistle being blown.

  As you slowly rub your eyes to push away the remnants of sleep still in you, you look around in confusion.

   “Wetin dey worry you, you this Igbo winsh?. This one wey you dey look like this…shey you sleep go heaven?”, Barakat, one of your cellmates says.

   And, then, it all comes back to you. 

  Gabriel, your mother-in-law, his betrayal, everything.

    Then…the wishful transference of ownership and assets.

   And then, you realize something else…

         It had been a dream.

You look around your prison cell once again for a very long moment. 

    Then finally, you smile. 

          A real smile.

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Pencilmarks and Scribbles Magazine was founded in 2017 by Clara Jack to be a home for African writers, asking them to come as they are and giving them room for growth. The publication aims to give back to the Nigerian Literary scene for the things it has given us.