Zora’s failure to conceive during the first year in marriage came as a rude realization to her. She moved from clinic to church to shrine but there was not a sign of an end to her predicament. Zora had developed a complication that dazzled doctors.
She would undergo the ovulation process like any other woman but after the body would secret an enzyme into the fallopian tubes.
This enzyme burnt down sperms, which are responsible for fertilizing the ova. This was to have a great bearing on her social life. She became secluded.
She frequently absconded from duty at Standard bank where she worked as a teller. She developed acne all over her face. This was a sign of stress. She decided to frequent a nearby church. It was a matter of time before she quit it too.
Marcus laboured to play his role of a loving and caring husband but there were visible signs that the current predicament had eaten him up too. He developed a rare habit of always dozing off in the sofa. One day he dreamt aloud.
“Hullo my son, come and hug me, I will buy you a bicycle,” he shouted in his dream. Those were signs of a troubled mind, of a man longing to have a child.
Marcus had always avoided a situation that would bring him into open confrontation with Zora. He decided to talk less, come home late and wake up early.
He would wake up as early as 5.00a.m on the pretext that he was going for an early morning jog to control his weight while actually he was controlling his temper.
Zora placed the portable on the table. She opened the fridge and pulled out a tin of cold tusker beer. She took a big gulp and fell back on the sofa closing her eyes.
She was still clad in her working suit so she moved upstairs to change. She returned to the sitting room clad in blue jean shorts and a snow-white fubu t-shirt with brown Clarks on he feet. She looked chic save for the mood she was in.
Food was still steaming on the table; the aroma of fish fillet, drumsticks, which she had laboured to fry, made her sob. There was food on the table but with no one to eat, indeed the rich all cry! Zora concurred.
She reached out for the dish covers and slammed them on the dishes like she was paid to do it. The housemaid who was peeping through the window pulled back for safety.
“How could Marcus let me down yet he knew that it was our wedding anniversary?” This and many other questions raced through her mind.
“Perhaps there was nothing to celebrate, maybe he had found someone else to comfort him,” Zora thought. She switched on the television set, on it was a Christian programme “turning point”.
A young man who was the bodyguard to Tupac Shakur (the rhythm and blues singer who was killed in a ghetto shoot out) was turning to God. Was it a turning point for her too, in her love life? Only time held the answer.
Zora quickly switched off the television. She had an idea. She was amazed by how fast it came. She was to storm Marcus’s office and find out what he was actually doing.
In a blink of an eye she was down the garage and within seconds the engine of the Muso Sangyong was roaring. With her foot on the accelerating pedal she was out and down the street.
However, when she reached the city centre the thought of making a u-turn crept into her mind. (to be continued)