Living In The Ghetto - Episode 3

 

In the night, Mama Chimaobim had tucked Chimaobim and Adanne well under the duvet. She sat on the bed with her hands placed below her jaw, brooding on different thoughts she couldn't place together. She could still hear the rustling noises from people outside the house. She stared at the clock that hung on the wall and it was a minute past ten p.m. Since Papa Chimaobim lost his job, he had been hustling with different menial jobs which kept him late . Sometimes, he came home almost at the odd hour while everywhere would be unusually calm. He would sit down on the bed while Mama Chimaobim brought a covered plate on a tray filled with food, and place it on the small stool in front of him. She would sit by his side and watch him while he ate the food tiredly.

There was a knock on the door. Mama Chimaobim stood up and walked to the door wondering if her husband was finally back from work. She opened the main door before opening the net door. Papa Chimaobim stood by the door with his bag slung on his shoulder, while his knotted tie lay loosely on his chest.

"Welcome, honey. I told you this environment is not like the other one we once lived in. Here is dangerous. Stop keeping late. Come back early, I don't have anybody I'll run to as an aid if anything happen to you," she said and held the net door while her husband walked in. She jammed the doors after each other.

"I am trying

All episodes of this story can be found here >> https://www.ebonystory.com/story/living-in-the-ghetto

. It's not my fault. I do those hard factory jobs and still go around to submit my CV to different places no matter how small the company is," he said and stared at the wristwatch on his hand. "It's just eleven o'clock on the dot. And again, I had to meet up with a friend who is helping me to process another job application. You know Lagos traffic is annoying." 

Papa Chimaobim dropped his bag on a suitcase that laid by the side of the wall, and slumped to the bed while he pulled off his shoes and outfits.

"Is there food? I am so hungry," he said and scrunched his face.

As usual, Mama Chimaobim carried a tray to him. On the tray was a plate of food which was covered and a glass of water. She positioned it well on the table while she was bent low. Briskly, she stood straight and sat beside her husband. He uncovered the plate and started taking the food spoon by spoon while he gulped down water in the glass cup at intervals. He belched immediately he was done eating and stretched himself on the bed with his back not touching the bed. 

"What happened to your eyes?" he yelled immediately.
He tried to lay up and adjust the stool which obstructed him from stretching his leg forward.

"It's nothing," she replied and smiled.

"It's nothing, okwaya? You have started fighting with people in this compound, my dear," his voice went high and low in a succession.

She laughed and leaned back. "Like you don't know the wife you married--"

"Of course, I know.

Read " The Dormitory (A Sequel) " by the same author ( Obinna Tony )

. She is so quiet, hence why I'm bothered when she started being a fighter."

She laughed again, "Abegi, I was only trying to be a good Samaritan by separating a fight."

"Really? You are funny. Biko, don't try it again. This place looks hostile." he moved his hands toward the dark bag around her eyes and smothered it slowly.

"Who did this to you?" he asked.

"See, my dear, her mother has apologised already. It's not a big deal. I think her name is Oyinda," she said and tapped her husband's lap, then rubbed it slowly.

"Okay," he muttered.

***
"Oyinda!" the bell in Papa Chimaobim's head rang again, taking him aback to what he experienced while he dropped at the bus top and strolled down the ghetto.

He could hear the slow movements and rustling of the leaves on the tree till he got to the heart of the ghetto, where people who owned shops did their businesses. There were shops constructed with blocks and roofed with zincs, those constructed with corrugated iron to form containers and those that were made with bamboo sticks and raffia palm fronds as the coverings. Only few shops were still not closed, where men drank alcohols, smoked and chattered to some mere talks. Different torchlights that hung at each shops shone to provide illuminations which made the environment clear.

Papa Chimaobim walked by and waved at them.

"Well done, guys," he said. Some replied to his greeting while others ignored, engrossed in what they were doing.

He could hear a voice say, "That's a new tenant. He be like person wey get money. We go meet am one day make im settle omo boys..." the voice trailed off.