An old friend whom I thought I had lost forever recently surprised me with a communication from across the continent, which I am only too glad to share with my readers, with slight variations to make it clearer and a bit more decent. This may sound outrageous, but he swears it happened.

There was this man from the South whose name was Okoro. He had a very beautiful wife called Chidi. The two had been married for nearly five years, but they still had no child. Okoro had a good job as a long-haul truck-driver and he never complained, as his work afforded him all what he needed, and above all else, he was able to provide for the needs of his wife. But then there came a day when things went very wrong, as it is always the case when things must to go wrong.

Amadi, one of Okoro’s best friends, thinking that he was doing his friend a favour, rather unwittingly disclosed to him that his wife Chidi, was having an affair with another man. To make the matter worse, the man Chidi was supposed to be having an affair with, Mustafa, a man from the North and very rich, was also one of Okoro’s good and closest friends. So, naturally, Okoro found the whole thing very difficult to believe, but the bitter seed of doubt had been planted in his head, exacerbated by the fact that, traditionally, Northerners and Southerners mutually harboured a deep-seated sense of mistrust. 

As days went by, Okoro became cantankerous, and more and more miserable. Just the thought of Chidi cheating on him with his best friend, became an intolerable pain, an obsession in his mind. Several times he skipped trips to deliver goods consignments to the states where they were due; for fear that his absence would provide Chidi and Mustafa the opportunity to get together. After about a month of this state of mind, Okoro was psychologically devastated. And this is when he decided to do something about it.

First of all, he decided to investigate the carryings-on of his wife and Mustafa whenever he was on his long distance travels. For a period of three consecutive weeks, he would lie to his wife that he would travel out of the country for three days or one week. But, instead, he would just stay in a hotel room in town and this way, he was able to watch their movements under cover of his assumed absence. This is how he came to conclude beyond doubt that Chidi and Mustafa were lovers, and he also discovered their diabolic plan.

As soon as Okoro left his house, having told his wife that he would be away for a week or two, Mustafa would without fail, arrive at his house by 9p.m, and would never leave the house before midnight.

After a period of Okoro’s intense bitterness and misery, he had sworn, silently, his mind seething with rage, that: ‘I’ll teach those two a lesson by God!’

Earlier on during his investigations, Okoro had formed a habit of visiting the Mustafas more frequently than he had used to do before. This was part of the strategy he was evolving towards his eventual payback to the infidels. He had come to notice that the relationship between Mustafa and his own wife was on a limb. So, during such visits, he had taken care to ingratiate himself with Mustafa’s wife, Fatima. He at times brought her small gifts, which he gave her in the presence of her husband. There was nothing wrong with that, or so it seemed, as they were supposedly best friends. But Okoro had his plans.

And this is how Okoro taught them the lesson. He first, as he usually did, told his wife that he was going away just for a week. But, of course, he had no intention of leaving town. Instead, at the appointed time, he took a strategic position at the corner of the street where he could watch the main gate of his house.

As soon as Mustafa showed up, Okoro raced to the former’s house, where he found Fatima all alone, watching the television.

Because he had planned it all, Okoro did not find it difficult to convince Fatima to the fact that he had been with her husband, who had been summoned to a meeting. For Fatima, who was already bored to death it was also good news that Chidi, Okoro’s wife, was equally absent. Without even blinking an eye, she accepted the invitation to have a drink with him at his house.

When the two eventually got to Okoro’s house, he opened the main door using the spare key, took Fatima to a guest room and told her to remain quiet while he double-checked to see whether his wife had really left the house, but he went straight to his bedroom. 

He banged at the door calling out her name. Chidi’s head reeled in fear and consternation as she realised the worst. ‘Down, under the bed!’ She whispered to his lover. ‘My husband is back.’

As Mustafa dove under the bed, Chidi scrambled to her feet, dressed up hurriedly trying to stall. Finally, she opened the door and came face to face with her irate husband. She made as if to say something, but Okoro just looked at her scornfully and harshly barked at her:

‘Out! To the Chicken-Grill!’ In his hand he was holding out a large bill to her. ‘I want two chickens, and a bottle of wine. This minute! I want us to celebrate.’

The Chicken Grill Centre was a hot spot for fast food in the area, and Okoro knew it would take her no less than 15 minutes to get what she wanted.

Confused beyond reason, Chidi rushed outside to execute his orders, while Okoro rushed to the visitors’ room. He took Fatima to the master’s bedroom – his own bedroom, and on to the bed – his own bed, where he started making frantic love to her. Below, under the bed, no one dared even to breathe.

And when eventually Chidi came back with the chicken and wine, banging the door as she entered the house, and her shoes making noise in the parlour, Okoro feigned complete surprise.

‘Quick!’ he shouted to Fatima. ‘Quick, under the bed! My wife is back!’ What followed was just outrageous.

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