Konga Iyanu

She takes care of her children with an intense passion, goes about her daily activities with intense ferocity and, of course, takes her religion with a frighteningly intense seriousness. Coupled with this, she’s also very old school. Back in secondary school, she had called my cousins and I, sat us down and explained to us the various intricacies of marriage.

“First of all, my dear children, a woman is nothing without a man. All these yeye girls going up and down with no husbands, it’s because most of them want to have freedom to do rubbish, abasha! The way God intended it is the way it’s supposed to be! Women are to be behind their husbands. A woman’s place is in the kitchen! You!” She pointed at me. “You say you don’t want to cook abi? You must learn it o! It’s the major gift God has given to all women.”

That night did not end well as she kept on pointing out the flaws in us which would not enable us to get good husbands. I tried as much as possible to stay out of Aunt Margaret’s way, going only when my mother forced me during the holidays but still, Aunt Margaret still managed to find a way to “help” my mother correct me. My grandiose dreams were not expected of a woman. One unfortunate Sunday, she came to our house as usual.

“Janet, your daughter is growing old. Book, book, book! Find the girl a man, all the girigiri that she’s doing, by the time she has a child or two, she will calm down. I know a man, a prophet. By the time he prays for her ehn, boys will start swarming around her like bees.” Unfortunately for me, my mother shook her head and smiled which Aunt Margaret took as approval. She smiled at me, her teeth tinged with a brown hue. The next day, my cousin, Lavina, Aunt Margaret and I left the house very early. According to Aunt Margaret, the prophet hears faster in the morning.

The sun was just beginning to rise and a cool breeze caressed our legs as we carefully trod the muddy untarred road. As we approached the prophet’s house, the name boldly painted on the house had Lavina and I stifling laughter. Konga iyanu was the name. When we got to the door, Aunt Margaret knocked sharply three times and then opened the door.

“Good morning, Prophet.”

Lavina’s mouth was open in wonder. The prophet had a wrapper tied around his waist area. His face was as dark as charcoal and the gombo tribal marks did nothing to beautify his face. Time had taken its toll on his head as there was no single strand of hair, bald he was. He smiled and we cowered back in fear. His teeth was black, incomplete, and his lips were dark like a marijuana addict’s. He gestured for us to sit down on his dingy couch and we sat carefully, germs were definitely living both in and out of it. Aunt Margaret was indifferent to our reactions as she grinned excitedly at the prophet. There was a moment of silence as the prophet eyed us, practically undressing us, with a mischevious smile on his face. I moved closer to Lavina.

“Are these the girls you told me about?” Aunt Margaret said yes, her head bobbing like a lizard’s.

“Stay here and pray for them while I take them into the inner chamber for serious consultation. Oya follow me girls.”

We stood up and followed the prophet inside a room. The room was bare except for a springy mattress close to the wall. He locked the door and my heart began to pound. He smiled again.

“The reason why you haven’t both found husbands is because of your spirit husbands. They have refused to let an appropriate man approach you but, do not worry, I have settled that in the spirit realm. You have just one thing to do.” He paused briefly and coughed while we waited for him to go on. He eyed both of us again from up to down and walked closer to us till we could practically smell his breath. He put his hand on my arm, close to my chest area, and put his hand on Lavina’s round behind.

“We have to verify that they are totally gone. If not, the next man that approaches you might die.”

Understanding dawned on us and quickly, I drew back. “I forbid any spirit husband. What’s all this rubbish?” Lavina didn’t move, a coy smile was playing on her lips. She smiled at the prophet and he shook his head as if to say she was doing the right thing. He looked at me and eyed me.

“Turn to the wall!” he shouted. I looked at Lavina.

“What are you doing, Lavina?”

“You heard the man. Turn to the wall.”

I didn’t want to but had no choice when suddenly, the old man dropped his wrapper. Quickly, I turned. The old man’s moans were rising when I heard a loud GBAM! Quickly, I looked back and I saw the old man gasping for breath with Lavina on top of him. She had removed her shoe lace and she began to tie his hands. She then took the shoe and began to beat the man black and blue.

“Next time, you won’t prey on young innocent girls!” I was just laughing. I had forgotten my cousin learnt Karate. We left him in his birthday suit, tied and gagged.

“You’re free, my daughters!” Aunt Margaret cried. “Where’s prophet?”

Lavina and I looked at each other and laughed heartily.

“He said we should go.”

Article by Oyeleye Ooreofeoluwa

Oyeleye Ooreofeoluwa is an avid reader, a music lover and a Lawyer in the making. Born in the 90’s , she hopes to leave footprints in the sands of time.

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