“UNDERSTANDING GIRLFRIEND.”

Kayode became a completely different person when Eniola moved in. He was more attentive and caring to her needs than he had ever been with me.

Every morning, Kayode and Eniola would do devotion together. They would go out for dinners and events together. He would borrow money from me for her upkeep. He would give me her clothes to wash. Made me cook all their meals. Wash their toilets and clean the room.

Even his fun Fridays became spiritual Fridays. Games night turned bible study.

It turned out that Kayode was a youth pastor in London.

When Kayode got tired of Eniola’s pregnancy rants, he would sneak into the parlour to join me in the middle of the night. We would make love on the couch and it was in those moments that I was reminded of why I couldn’t let him go. His dick pass manpower. A fire I could not resist. Which other man would make love to me this hard?

He would always tell me, “I miss when it was just you and me. You brought out the fun side of me.”

My heart would flutter in those moments. Like I said, no woman sabi pass my level.

Eniola, it is only a matter of time. After you born that baby, you will disappear from our lives forever. I am Kayode’s one and only. You are only just a squatter and waste of space.

One hot afternoon, Kayode had asked me to prepare Efo Riro soup and Pounded Yam. To the point he even bought wooden mortar and pestle for me to pound the yam the traditional way.

His parents were in town and he needed to make an impression.

This was my time. My time to make a mark as the future Mrs Arike Olufunke Olajide.

Kayode’s parents arrived in time for the dinner. His father was a reverend in a Pentecostal church in London. The same church Kayode was the youth pastor.

To make my mark as the perfect daughter-in-law, I did everything to help them. Served the food, fetched water, washed the dishes and just about everything every mother’s dream daughter would do.

When I returned to the kitchen with the last set of dishes, I felt a sharp pain on my back, causing the plates to fall on the ground.

Kayode’s mother rushed to the kitchen to help pick up the plates.

“Take it easy, my dear.” She consoled me as I winced from the pain, “I’ve always told Kayode to take it easy with the house girls.”

House girl?

I frowned at her, “Mummy, I am not Kayode’s house girl.”

She looked at me in confusion, “You’re not? His wife just told me you’re the house girl.”

My body froze that instant. What the fuck is this woman talking about? Wife-

Eniola ran into the kitchen, “Mummy, is everything okay?”

“Eniola, kiloshele? Why did you lie to me that Arike is your house help?”

Then it dawned on me.

Eniola was Kayode Olajide’s wife.

The entire fucking time.

I dropped the tray from my hand.

I rushed to the parlour to meet Kayode, sitting next to his father. I cannot believe my ears.

“Kayode-”

Before I could start my sentence, I found something shiny on Kayode’s left hand that I had never seen before. A silver ring. A wedding ring.

Ah! Ah! Kayode has finished me.

Kayode has finished me oh!

That was the height of it. I no go do understanding girlfriend again. I no go do wife material again. Kayode has used me finish.

All I wanted to do in that moment was carry knife and stab everybody in that house. Be it reverend or prophet. Everybody here must die.

“You aiit, fam?” Kayode asked me, coming to stand in front of me.

I imagined the 100 things I could do to him right now. Slit his throat, strangle him, pluck his eyes, break his head with the mortar stick.

But I did what I did best.

I smiled, “Yes, everything is okay, sir.”

I played along.

***

All night, I thought about everything I did for Kayode. All the smelly boxers I washed, the hours I stood to cook, the sores on my body from overworking, the sleepless nights, the money I spent on his upkeep and his house, and sacrificing my whole self just to be called Mrs Olajide.

I felt suffocated all through the night. My heart felt like it was sinking into a deep dark hole.

Kayode... Kayode... Ah.

It took me all night to decide what I was going to do with Kayode and Eniola next. And there was only one thing left to do.

That morning, I woke up very early to prepare Ewa Agoyin with fried plantain. Kayode’s favourite.

For the first time, I joined Kayode and Eniola to eat breakfast in the parlour. I watched as they devoured the food like it was the last meal they would ever eat in their lives.

I smiled.

Maybe it was.

Kayode began to choke first. He sensed something was off as he squeezed his neck, trying to gag out the food from his throat. But it was too late.

He fell to the ground, shaking violently and releasing white foam from his mouth.

Then his body froze like biscuit. No movement, no breathing.

“Kayode!” Eniola screamed and stood up. Before she could reach him, blood gushed out from under her nightgown.

She looked down at her bleeding legs and screamed at the top of her lungs.

“My baby-”

She began choking too.

Her eyes widened in agony and she turned her body to me, beckoning for help.

I sat on the couch, my legs crossed as I sipped my tea in the corner.

I watched as she fell to the floor and began shaking violently till she could no longer move.

After a brief moment of silence, I got up and stood over Kayode and Eniola’s dead bodies lying on a pool of their baby’s blood on the floor.

A wave of peace swept over my chest. For the first time in a long time, I could finally breathe.

“Kayode Olajide.” I whispered his name one last time, “Greet the devil in hell for me.”

With that, I moved over to turn on the TV. My favorite jam, Zazu Zeh by Portable began playing on Soundcity channel.

I exhaled in relief.

Indeed, this was truly my time to shine.

“Aradugbo (Zehh). Tun tun ti de oh (Zehh).” I broke into legwork dance, “ZaZu (Zehh). Opoleti (Zehh). Oyękętimagbo.”

And that, pastor Bolaji, was the end of my wife material tenure.

Beat me now.