Inside Out, page 2
I can assure you, if the Efik people are sent over here, they will grumble because they aren’t used to arduous work. They like having things on a platter of gold and are a people of leisure.
It isn’t as though Atam kingdom isn’t prosperous. Far from it. They have abundance but are not as flamboyant as their Efik neighbours. Where the Efiks dress with bright colours, the Atams’ hues are tame. Arrogance isn’t an issue here, at least not amongst the women. Instead, the lush farm or the size of the game after a hunt gives pride to the individual.
Plump women aren’t rampant in this kingdom except those married from the Efik kingdom. Yes, both domains are that friendly. It’s 2016, after all, and inter-tribal marriages have become the norm.
Over this vast green land with pockets of rivers in between, King Liman rules with his lovely wife, Jesam. His name means money, and hers translates to say thanks.
Let’s jump over the process of procreation to the procreated.
Liman and Jesam have two children, a son, and a daughter. Their first child and only son is Onen, which literally means a person. Still, in more profound interpretations it means a son. Their daughter is named Wofai, which means ‘peace’ or ‘something good.’
Forgive me. The citizens of Atam Kingdom have such names. It would be atrocious to speak these names and not give you the enjoyment of their meanings.
Also, the Atams raise the sons to be strong, courageous, hardworking, and protective of women but not necessarily deferring to them. A little arrogance comes into play here. Women are supposed to accede to men as they do the heavy and risky works. Meanwhile, the females are assumedly domestic.
But it’s 2016. Liman and his wife sent their children to school abroad. And in doing so, the daughter, Wofai, returns with an attitude which the male natives regard as insolent.
She is outspoken, and whenever her mouth opens, it is frequently to demand respect for herself as a woman.
Unfortunately, she is in this fight alone.
Her mother is already the queen, and nobody would dare to demean her and keep their heads. No matter how confrontational she gets, her husband always backs her up.
Wofai suffers most from her brother, who uses her as practice for when he acquires a wife. Onen’s character is laidback and mischievous to the point of meanness. This should give you an idea of how he treats Wofai and why she became a kind of monster.
Because, as Onen uses her for practice, Wofai utilises him too, accordingly.
To her, her brother is the epitome of what she is fighting, the archetype of every man’s behaviour.
The whole exercise boils down to one thing,
Onen refuses to listen to his sister because what kind of helpful idea does a woman have to share?
The arrogant son of a…the arrogant bastard!
He refuses or doesn’t find it essential to knock before entering her room. However, that act is just to aggravate his easily riled sister.
Okay, those are two things.
Anyway, Wofai, in retaliation, finds creative ways of dealing with her brother’s arrogance.
First, she screams like a banshee. This concerns her parents because local gossip suggests she might be insane.
Secondly, she stashes tennis balls close by for when Onen enters her room without knocking. She has scored a few shots. However, when she doesn’t because the bastard is good at dodging, she will resort to screaming like a banshee. This, consequently, increases her parents’ concern for her.
Twenty-nine-year-old Onen and twenty-five-year-old Wofai attended and excelled at schools of higher learning. They were raised with the consciousness that all their acquired knowledge and wisdom is extensively for the kingdom's good.
Unlike movies, where royal children hate the idea of returning to their father’s kingdom, Onen and Wofai are glad to use their qualifications to improve their nation.
With a Masters in Management and other qualifications, Onen is a consummate administrator. His father is quite happy to relinquish the reins of the massive food processing plant, which is the primary source of employment for the natives, excluding their own farms.
The food plant employs more than a thousand people. Onen oversees them all, handling their welfare packages and supervising the work, sometimes joining in.
I’m guessing it’s kind of okay for him to be arrogant, but whatever.
Wofai manages the accounts. Being an Economics graduate and having an affinity for numbers, the lady is a whiz with the books.
King Liman has no worries when it comes to managing the resources and finances of his kingdom. No worries except for his daughter’s indignant behaviour.
It is becoming increasingly difficult to control her screams, especially with the rumours making the rounds. I mean, come on, what do you expect? This is a 25-year-old woman who thinks the best way to handle her issues is to scream. It’s just bizarre.
Potential suitors give her a wide berth. Nobody wants to become involved with her.
It doesn’t help much. It only increases her propensity for screams.
“How is the plant today?” King Liman asks his children at the dining table.
They’re eating boiled yam and freshly-prepared, peppery, bush-meat pumpkin vegetable sauce. It is pertinent to note that this is a favourite meal in this home.
Contrary to the nonsense we see on TV, although this noble family is privileged, they consume this meal with their bare hands. No forks and knives in sight. This is the best way to enjoy this meal. Using cutleries in this situation will just be weird.
“Running smoothly, but we need more people at the cassava peeling point,” Onen answers while munching on a particularly succulent piece of bush-meat.
“Are you going to tell him that I noticed that since last week?” Wofai queries confrontationally.
“No, I’m not,” Onen replies with a casual shrug.
Even I find it annoying.
“That’s lovely. Wofai, well done,” Queen Jesam jumps in, hoping to save their ears from the imminent scream.
Wofai glances at her mother. Noticing the queen’s gentle smile of appreciation, she simmers down with a deep breath.
“You did good,” Liman adds when his wife promptly kicks him under the table without looking at him or changing expression.
“So, have you picked a dress for the soiree in honour of the minister’s son’s return?” Jesam asks her daughter to change the subject, but she ends up totally worsening the situation.
Onen scoffs, “Should she be allowed among humans?”
“Onen!” both parents reprimand their son.
“Don’t talk to your sister like that,” the queen adds.
Wofai’s simmering anger is already stoked. She gives her brother the evil eye and growls in warning like an animal would.
“You see what I’m talking about,” Onen points out, chuckling insouciantly before continuing with his meal as though his sister isn’t worth the bother. The bastard.
Both the king and queen hold their breaths. It isn’t the first time this kind of scenario has played out at dinner. And in each of those cases, it’s been worse than the previous meltdowns.
Wofai turns from her brother and focuses on her food. The monarchs almost sigh in relief that she hasn’t reacted.
As I said, almost.
Next instant, Onen’s face and a large part of his starched white shirt are covered in pumpkin leaves sauce. I think some got into the idiot’s eyes. He is the one screaming this time around.
He jerks out of his seat and races in search of water to wash his eyes, scattering the palace servants out of his way. Both parents desist from making any comments because my girl, Wofai, calmly reaches for her brother’s plate of food and proceeds to eat with a smile on her face.
Do you know about the silent communication between long-married couples?
Theirs is almost like that of the monarchs at Efik kingdom. They had no idea what to do for their daughter.
And things are about to get worse.
3
Trouble rears its fine head when…
Yes, you read correctly. I say fine head apropos the spirit of trouble.
Let me explain.
You see, trouble is a fine spirit. As in, the guy is so cute sometimes I feel like cuddling him like a baby—a big muscular baby who can melt a lady’s undies. Oh wow, I didn’t mean to reveal that, but it shows how handsome and hot Trouble is. I’ve been crushing on him since forever.
So, I wonder why people use the phrase ‘trouble rears its ugly head’ when it is their reaction to the difficulty that is ugly. Sometimes, the guy—Trouble—makes terrible situations better. He is a hero if you ask me. My hero.
He has been hurt from this misunderstanding for so long, even me. I am not evil. I just love telling tales. However, human beings just don’t know when not to tell stories, thereby causing discord in relationships. So, as a result, I, Gossip, get branded as bad. The whole deal is just frustrating. Sorry, I don’t mean to go off-trail. But, like I always implore you. Deal with it.
I’m going to backtrack a little before the time Trouble reared its fine head.
The soiree is a success, blah, blah, blah. The decorations are incredible, yeah, yeah, and everybody dresses to kill. But, of course, it is the soiree for the wealthy, what do you expect?
Wofai is determined to attend the soiree. She knows she might not enjoy herself because she is sort of a pariah, as per her propensity to scream blue murder. This expression is apt as murder is sometimes blue.
Anyway, I digress.
Wofai wants to snag the minister’s son.
Yes, you read right. She wants to impress the minister’s son to the point of hopefully getting married to the bugger. Mind you, I don’t see it happening.
Still, human beings have always made inevitable, ridiculous mistakes. We, spirits, just hang around waiting to see how it plays out. It’s entertaining in the least. What can I say?
So, Wofai makes this decision based on certain realities in her life.
One, no other guy in that kingdom wants an irrational girl for a wife. Two, the minister’s son recently returned from the US. So, she assumes he hasn’t acquired the stereotypical attitude of the local men towards women’s rights. Three, she imagines getting married to him and living happily ever after. To leave the men who rejected her with regrets and mourning their loss.
Ladies are allowed to dream impossible dreams, especially avid readers of romantic books like the Atam princess.
Wofai hopes this modern minister’s son will ignore the rumours and see the real her. Anybody who understands her is worthy of being her husband. So, she sets out to impress him.
Her first gaffe is choosing a ball gown she wore for a Christmas party in the UK when she was a student there.
It’s a colossal mistake.
This soiree is being held at the open field behind the minister’s building. Not like a football field, just an ample, beautifully landscaped space with plants and flowers. It requires a young lady to wear something cute and elegant.
The queen’s svelte evening gown reaches her ankle but doesn’t hinder walking. Unfortunately, Wofai’s dress is bulbous and out of place. The queen tries gently to advise her daughter against the choice of her gown, but the girl is determined to impress and snag the minister’s son.
Same as fifty other privileged and entitled young and not so young ladies of the kingdom. The function turns out to be a competitive game among the eligible ladies of the kingdom vying for the interest of the minister’s son.
The game is simple because of the minister’s son’s personality. He isn’t at all the hero Wofai imagines him to be. The ladies try their best to destroy each other’s characters in front of the minister’s son. When the guy spends more than ten minutes talking to a lady, another one cuts in and reveals the flaw of the other lady and vice versa.
Don’t judge. The subtle struggle to get hitched to a highly placed groom in the Atam Kingdom is a cut-throat affair.
So, during the event, the minister’s son goes through all the eligible young ladies. This is evident in the pouts and sullenness noticeable on their faces.
Onen is aware of this competition, and if he hasn’t done much in life for his sister, he so doesn’t want his sister to publicly mess herself up. It’s fine when he’s the one playing with her emotions. But he won’t allow another to hurt her.
“You see what’s going on,” Onen whispers to Wofai after handing her a flute of champagne.
“I see,” Wofai replies softly. She glances at her brother’s face and sees the concern there for her. At moments like this, he isn’t so bad for a big brother.
“I have a plan,” he says. “Do not engage the fool just yet.”
Wofai hits his arm in reprimand. “Don’t call him that. He isn’t a fool.”
“Oh, not to you. But he is to me. I know his type. He enjoys the attention the ladies are showering on him, and the cat fights are just added entertainment. By tomorrow, most of his friends in the country or out of it will be aware of the antics of everyone here.”
She looks at her brother again and realizes that he is serious. “How do you know this?”
Onen sighs heavily. “We attended one of the courses in Canada together. I saw how he treated girls.”
He shrugs casually and sips his drink.
“I’m sorry. He must have done the same to Trisha.” Wofai can see the hurt in his eyes even though he is being macho about it.
Onen thought he was in love with the haughty Trisha. It turns out she was superficial too and chose the minister’s son because he spent money indiscriminately, unlike the sensible Onen. The whole class knew about their escapade the next day.
“But you are still determined to get him anyway.” He observes his sister’s resolute mien.
She nods.
“If so,” he sighs, making up his mind to help her. “The best bet to get his attention is to ignore him.”
Wofai frowns. “Ignore him? Onen, have you seen what I’m wearing? This isn’t to ignore. This is to catch his attention,” she points out succinctly.
“Wofai, I think everybody has seen what you are wearing. It’s red, and it’s a ball gown. You are the only one wearing that particular design,” Onen huffs in exasperation. “Look, the guy is an arrogant bastard.”
“Says the pot to the kettle,” Wofai scoffs.
“Yeah, well, I’m not like him. The point remains, though. If he discovers someone as beautiful as you at this party who hasn’t paid him homage like the other girls, he’ll want to know who you are. He’ll want time with you.”
Wofai is sure her brother isn’t happy giving her this tip. It shows in the tightness of his jaw.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Well, it’s nothing. I don’t think it’s a good idea, though. Nancy seems to be determined to pull down every lady at the party. In the next few minutes, she will be your only contender for his attentions.”
Her eyes find Nancy.
Wofai’s thoughts may be too tame in her description of Nancy, so let me do the honours. Nancy is a bitch of catastrophic proportions!
As the daughter of the potential governor of the state, she feels she is all that and doesn’t fail to let everybody feel it.
Nancy has always been controversial with the prince and princess. With the prince because he rejected her advances in secondary school and later in university. To the princess, just because she is related to the prince. She doesn’t hide her dislike for the regal siblings and tells anyone willing to listen that they embarrass the nobility. She says they don’t deserve to be royals because they work like slaves, and their dressing isn’t any better. Simply put, Nancy is the bane of Onen and Wofai in all social gatherings.
The sensible thing is always to avoid her, but as it turns out, she is the queen bitch and wins the celebrant's attention by being herself.
Unfortunately, after Wofai realises she can’t face off with Nancy for the minister’s son’s attentions and changes her mind about her whole plan, the minister’s son notices her.
Talk about Sod’s law. Everything that can go wrong is doing so at the worst possible time.
“I believe you’ve been avoiding me the whole night,” he says close to Wofai’s ear, making her heart leap in her chest with fear.
She’d been about to make her way to her parents, if possible, borrowing their driver to take her home. However, closing her eyes in disappointment because her recently made plans are pulverized, she takes a deep breath and turns with a tentative smile. She will be polite, shut off his advances and go home. It is a simple plan, but let’s not forget Sod’s ingenious law.
“Good evening,” she says with a small smile.
“Are you having one?” he asks, wanting to be charming.
“Yes, your party is lovely,” she nods and takes a step back, wanting to finalize the niceties and be on her way, but his hand snakes out and grabs her arm, not painfully but firm.
“Hey, we’ve not even been introduced. I’m Jacott,” he smiles again, his eyes twinkling with contemplative amusement.
If her brother hadn't warned about Jacott’s attitude, Wofai would’ve succumbed to the guy’s attention. Now she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.
“I’m Wofai,” she murmurs and looks away, trying to show that she isn’t interested in chatting.
“Lovely…”
He is about to give another cheesy compliment but is interrupted by the nightmare.
“Oh, the mad princess,” Nancy purrs while scraping her manicured nails on Jacott’s shoulders.
“Don’t be rude, Nance,” Jacott says and smiles, but immediately, one can see that he does not really mean it. The whole set-up looks contrived.
“Let’s go, Wofai,” Onen advises, suddenly appearing at his sister’s side.
“And there is the idiot brother,” Nancy announces.
“Onen! I know Onen now. Why are you calling him an idiot? He is the prince,” Jacott exclaims with a chuckle.
“Seriously, Wofai, let’s go,” Onen murmurs and attempts to drag his sister from the infuriating duo.
