Drama in our compound [Episode 6]

To read previous episodes of Eko Wenjele, click here, here and here.

It was not even 7am yet but those two were at it, full tempo. It seemed as if they woke up with a burst of energy.

I dragged myself out of bed, threw something on and stepped out of my room. I located my aunt in the living room, surprised to see that she was all dressed and ready to leave for her shop.

She used to work in a bank but she worked very long hours and was hardly home at all, so her husband asked her to resign her position when she started having children.

Being a businesswoman allowed her control her hours and make them as flexible as she wanted. Besides, she earned twice her monthly salary at the bank in a week as a lace merchant in Balogun market. Apparently, Nigerians ALWAYS bug expensive fabric for parties.

She reeled off instructions to me and told me she had to be on her way, she told me what to have for breakfast and lunch; she also dropped some money with me just in case I needed anything.

I would be left at home alone since her children were in boarding school, her husband worked offshore for an oil company and her maid was accompanying her to the shop.

The noise downstairs was still in full pitch, both parties screaming at the top of their lungs. I saw my aunt off sand bid her goodbye.

Instead of returning to the apartment, I decided to watch the unfolding drama, never before had I ever seen such vicious and furious verbal exchange of expletives.

“Do you know who I am? I will teach you a lesson today!” a plump but pretty woman screamed, moving close to her ‘opponent ‘as if the brawl would get physical at that moment.

“Go and teach your children, just move your jalopy out of my way before I deflate your tyres,” a very attractive, fair skinned young lady wearing a short dress and court shoes fired back. She was obviously dressed for work.

“Ohhh, at least I have children. At least I’m married, where is your own husband, where are your children?”

At this point, the other party burst into cackling, sardonic laughter

“You call that brute you live with a husband? I’d rather die single than marry an animal like him. The whole compound hears your screams and pleas when he beats you up every night. We also hear how you weep when he forces himself on you after beating you blue black. Huhuhuhuhuhuhu, I’d rather remain single than be miserable like you. You hear me? Now move your match box out of the way before I am late for work, it’s not my fault that the only job you have is looking after that overgrown baby you call a husband”

I was shocked. Neighbors who lived in the same compound, who saw each other every day should npot have to be so bitter to one another. I couldn’t imagine living within such madness and animosity.

A door slammed and a hefty looking man stormed out of one of the first floor apartments. He made straight for the bickering women, pulled the plump one away saying “my dear leave her let me handle this”

I heaved a sigh of relief as I thought the woman’s husband had come to resolve the issue. Imagine my shock when I heard a loud thwack as he slapped the fair lady across the face.

My gasp was audible as my jaw almost dropped to the ground.