The Wife ESCAPED!

Caro had walked till it was daybreak, keeping the same course until she came to another busy, market-like bus stop. She didn’t linger and she didn’t care for the name of the place. She could hear the bus conductors shouting the names of various unfamiliar locations, but her mind did not register any of that. All she thought of was how to get something to eat, preferably without stealing.

She had remembered to wash her mouth with the water she had stolen earlier, so hopefully, her breath was not very foul because she just might need to do some civilized begging – the kind that got you more than some small change.

She went on past the busy bus stop and made her way deeper and deeper into quieter and more civilized area. This was the kind of place where she could hope to find some help. She veered off the road and branched into inner streets.

The environment was neat, but not high-brow. She could see houses, mostly bungalows and shops. Everywhere was calm and she unconsciously changed her stride and demeanor to match the civility of her surroundings. She was now moving like a city-bred damsel looking for somewhere or something in particular.

She was glad that her footwear was extra hard otherwise she would have been barefoot by now. But speaking of footwear, she could see loads of them displayed outside a store just ahead of her.

The owner seemed to be just opening up for business and she was still bringing out a lot of women’s shoes and fancy slippers and arranging them in front of the shop. Caro could not help but wish that she had money enough to afford one of those slippers. She must have been staring too long in that direction because she could see the woman watching her from the corner of her eye. Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, Caro headed for the shop.

The shopowner saw her coming and raised her head to look directly at her. She didn’t know what to make of the girl, but she looked like someone in need of directions.

“Good Morning, ma,” Caro greeted as she reached the shop.

“Good Morning. What can I do for you?”, the shop owner asked.

Caro was a bit taken aback by the woman’s command of good English. She had expected a torrent of Yoruba or pidgin English.

“Em… I was wondering if you need any kind of help with your shop. Like a salesgirl or something like that.”

“How old are you?”, the woman asked, eyeing her up and down.

“Sixteen,” Caro replied, without blinking.

“Have you done such a job before?”

“Not really, ma. But I assure you, I’m a fast learner. I used to manage my neighbors’ shops when they were away and they were always the happier for it.”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She could not ever remember hearing a sixteen year old product of the current educational system speak in such a manner.

“Who taught you how to speak like that?”

“Miss Daniels… a teacher in my school.”

“Where do you live?”

“I… ehh… actually, I used to live with my uncle.”

“Then what happened?”

“He died a week ago,” Caro replied quietly, looking down at her feet – the image of a mourning niece.

“Oh! I’m so sorry about that. What about your parents? Are they alive?”

Caro shook her head in response.

“Oh poor child. Come, come. Come and sit down.”

She offered Caro a chair and the glib liar mouthed her thanks, still keeping her mourning expression fixed on her face.

“So how do you survive now?”, the woman questioned in genuine concern.

“After my uncle died, his wife threw me out of the house…”

“Ah! Some women are wicked! What about your other family members? Where do they live?”

“I don’t know any of them.”

“Oh!”, the woman ejaculated like someone whose heart was already breaking, and Caro pitied her. If only she knew that the entire story was fabricated.

“So,” the woman said after thinking silently for a while, “didn’t your uncle leave a will? What’s your name, by the way?”

“No, he didn’t. My name’s Caro.”

“Carol. Short for what? Caroline or Carolyn?”

“Carolina.”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Oh. Yes. Carolina. A beautiful name. So you can read and write, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you have nowhere to stay?”

“No.”

The woman sighed and then shook her head. “The world is wicked! So you’ve been moving around like this for the past one week?”

“Yes,” Caro replied and suddenly burst into tears.

“Oh, poor child. Don’t cry, my dear. Don’t cry. Everything will be okay,” the woman consoled, hugging her and allowing her to sob on her shoulder.

Everything till this point had been faked, but when the woman said ‘the world is wicked!’, the full realization of what her parents had done to her (selling her off without her consent to a man older than her father) really hit home. The world was really wicked. The people who were supposed to care for her ended up selling her off like a slave.

She remembered the night her father came back home and simply told her that she would have to be married to ‘Iron Fire’. It had taken her a full hour to overcome the shock and when she finally did, she fell to planning her way out of ending up as a wife of that beast of a man. She had been so focused on planning and implementing that she had never really had the time to cry… until now.

After she had exhausted her tears, the woman got her a bottle of Coca Cola from her little fridge and urged her to make herself at home while she arranged things around the shop. Caro sat meekly like a dove, sipping from the bottle and stealing sly glances at her surroundings.

It pained her that she had to lie to the woman, but she had no other choice. For all she knew, the woman might be an advocate for child marriage or the ‘obey your parents at all times’ philosophy. For now, the lie would suffice and if the woman made up her mind to assist her long-term, maybe she would get the chance to find out more about her and perhaps trust her enough to tell her the truth. But already, she was feeling impatient. She was not one to not know where she stood at any given time. Was the woman willing to accept her or not? She had to know… now.

When she was done with the Coca Cola, she held the empty bottle in both hands and counted from one to ten. Then she stood up. The woman was still busy putting in order her warehouse of a shop.

“Thank you very much, ma. I’m very grateful for everything. I think I have to be going now before the sun gets too hot.”

“Go where?”, the woman half-shouted in surprise. “I thought you had nowhere to go?”

“Yes, but if I start early, I’ll be able to find an uncompleted building t…”

“Uncompleted what?! Sit down there! What do you take me for? A demon, like your uncle’s wife?”

“Ah. No o, ma. But…”

“Oh shut up there. Now, listen and listen good. I’ll employ you as my sales girl. We’ll discuss your salary later, but…”

“Don’t worry, ma. I’ll take anything you gi…”

“I said, shut up! Now, what was I saying… Yes. Em… I can’t really take you home, my husband will not be very happy with that, so…”

“I can sleep in the shop. I swear, I’ll not steal anything.”

“You’re testing me, Carolina. If I hear your voice again, I’ll prove to you that I’m the daughter of a soldier and the wife of a policeman.”

“Sorry, ma.”

“Now, as I was saying… since you can’t stay with me, you’ll have to stay with my niece… my late sister’s daughter. She might give you some trouble at first, but if you’re as tough as I think you are, you would be comfortable with each other in no time. So are we clear? Any questions?”

“No ma.”

“Good. So come and help me carry these boxes.”