Married But Available

by B. Nyamnjoh

  “Beating her man? That’s what I call turning the tables on the men,” remarked Lilly Loveless. So far the violence in your stories has been overwhelmingly against women.”

  “You mustn’t see violence only at the physical level or in terms of beatings,” replied Britney. “There is such a thing as psychological violence, and women are exceptionally good at giving men their fair share of this. It doesn’t have to be screaming or blood-dripping to be violence.”

  “Good point,” admitted Lilly Loveless, scribbling in her notebook.

  “Finally, she discovered where her husband spent most of his time. His concubine was working with the Public Treasury. Since they are noted for charging a ‘3 per cent rate’ as bribe before rendering service, this concubine could claim to be as rich as a category 4 civil servant when it otherwise would not be possible. She was so proud that she looked low on Mrs Wilfred.

  “People advised Mrs Wilfred not to go to the concubine’s residence, so all she could do was insult the concubine whenever they met in a public place.

  “Mr Wilfred was eventually transferred out of Puttkamerstown, but he could not cope without his concubine. He struggled and bribed until he was transferred back to Puttkamerstown.

  “Meanwhile, his wife passed the exam into the higher Postal Services School in Nyamandem. As she left for school, Mr Wilfred went home to his village and brought back a little girl to cater for his children at home. He packed his own belongings and went to meet his concubine, from whose place he paid his children regular visits like a part-time father. Mrs Wilfred returned from school to discover that her husband was living with his concubine. She is now taking care of her four kids while her husband is happily living with his concubine, with whom he now has three children.”

  “Do you think he’ll stop there?” asked Lilly Loveless. “Or would he have a couple more somewhere else?”

  “Let’s not speculate about those things,” said Britney, “let’s just collect the data for now, isn’t that what you’ve said before?”

  Lilly Loveless felt like a dog with its tail between its legs. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Britney that speculation during the research process was quite in order, having told her at the beginning how absolutely important it was for the researcher to keep her opinions in check.

  ***

  “I didn’t tell you yet about Mr Sims,” Britney continued, rolling the paper in her hands and unrolling it. “A maid was working for him, because his wife was studying in Muzunguland. That Muzunguland of yours,” Britney turned to Lilly Loveless who looked up, “if only you know how much havoc it has caused relationships here in Mimboland…”

  “Now don’t you start,” Lilly Loveless warned. “We shan’t go down that road of blaming on Muzunguland all the headaches of Mimboland, shall we?” She laughed to cushion the fact that she was serious, but Britney got the point.

  “Each Friday,” Britney continued, “this woman working to clean his house and prepare his food would, on her way out, turn to him and say, ‘Is there anything else, sir?’ And he would say, ‘No, get home well.’ He noticed that she always wore a V-neck shirt on Friday and that on each subsequent Friday it was as if she chose one lower cut than that of the previous week. One Friday when she asked if there was anything else, he said, ‘Yes, turn around please.’ She was already at the front door and she turned around. ‘Bend over,’ he said. She did. He lifted her dress, removed a condom from his pocket and donned it. When he finished he asked if that was ‘anything else’ she wanted and said she could go. He thought he had put an end to that behaviour of hers. But, no, the next Friday, before she left for home, she opened her blouse to nothing underneath and said, ‘Is there anything else, sir?’ He said, ‘Yes, go into the bedroom please and take off all your clothes.’ She did. And she was waiting for him anxiously. He entered the room with his digital camera. He snapped a few shots and said she could dress and go. The next day, he sent the photos to his wife by email, explaining what had happened the previous evening and suggesting they get another maid.”

  Lilly Loveless shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  “I only know this story,” said Britney, “because a friend dated Mr Sims once for a couple of months a few years ago. Apparently the maid thought there was much to it. She would call and leave messages on his voice mail: ‘What type of lover are you who doesn’t call?’ she would ask. ‘I flash you and no response. And even when I buy airtime for my cell phone and call, you don’t answer. Was it sour what you tasted?’ Having got whatever it was he was looking for, Mr Sims had moved on, leaving the maid frozen on the spot like a digital camcorder on pause.”

  This story of the maid reminded Lilly Loveless of an Internet joke about a little boy who walks into his parent’s bedroom to see his mom on top of his dad bouncing up and down. The parents stop and his mom quickly dismounts, pulling the covers around her. ‘What were you and dad doing?’ the boy asks his mom. ‘Well, your dad has a big tummy and sometimes I have to get on top to help flatten his tummy,’ she told her boy. ‘You are wasting your time mom’ says the boy. ‘When you are not at home, the maid gets on her knees and blows it right back up.’

  Not wanting to interrupt Britney, Lilly Loveless chose to save the idea of sharing the joke with her for later. It was striking to her how much of a necessary evil the maid is perceived to be the world over, as most women, regardless of status, beauty or intelligence, harbour anxiety about the effect of their maid on their husband. Her mind went back to Bobinga Iroko’s story about the Reg, whose wife has a problem with him because of the child he had with their maid. How would he justify doing it? If what she had heard of him was anything to go by, she could imagine him saying: ‘It appears to me that most women seem to really see their marriage certificate as a certificate of achievement, after which I have got him, he is mine no matter what I do, and his job is to take care of me and I owe him nothing in return, not even a good smile, and how was work today when he returns. Can’t she stand by her man willy-nilly? Doesn’t she know the adage: Behind every successful man is a woman on her knees?’ The question of what maids have that madams don’t, will continue to intrigue Lilly Loveless. Could it be that maids don’t have what madams do: power? Could it be that maids offer calm in an ocean of turbulence called family life, and that this is what men find irresistible? Or is it the fact that maids do the cooking most of the times, and that food is a sure way to a man’s heart? Structural!! Whatever the reasons, this was certainly a theme worth revisiting.

  ***

  “There’s a similar story,” Britney continued, “about a renowned public figure in Nyamandem who loved his wife dearly. She, like Mr Sims’ wife, was studying, yet again, in Muzunguland, and they spoke each day by Internet. He explained to his wife that he was incredibly horny, and she suggested he visit a prostitute discretely. So, he talked to his bodyguard to arrange this. A prostitute, any prostitute would do. All he wanted was to quench his fire. The prostitute knocked on his door in the early hours of dawn, just as had been agreed, to coincide with his early morning exercises. She was ushered into his study. He directed her to a long, low cushioned footstool. He asked her to take off her trousers and get on the stool on all fours. Meanwhile he directed his Internet camera towards the stool. Then he called his wife on the Internet. They greeted each other. He said he wanted her. She asked him to take her. So he unzipped his trousers and visited the prostitute absent-mindedly. He kept gazing at the image of his wife and rubbing the bum of the prostitute. Afterwards he asked her to dress, paid her in front of his wife, and showed her to the door. ‘Making love to you on camera is very erotic,’ he told his wife. ‘You know I’m visual, and like to look at who I’m making love to,’ he added, a broad smile on his relaxed face. Then he fetched his Bible and started his morning prayers, for he was a God-fearing man.”

  Lilly Loveless looked at Britney with, for the first time, a speck of doubt. “Where’d you get that story?” she asked.

  “From a friend
who studies literature with me,” said Britney, asking herself why Lilly Loveless should ask about this particular story. “She decided to work as a prostitute to make her way through school,” she added, as Lilly Loveless was still eyeing her curiously.

  “I see,” said Lilly Loveless. She hoped Britney was not reading and adapting Muzungu books to Mimboland experiences in the interest of keeping her job as research assistant. She could swear she had read repeatedly of surveys to the effect that men base their decisions on whom to go out with mostly on physical attractiveness, and that they were in general much less choosy than women, who tended to be much choosier about partners than men were. But how could she confront Britney on this issue without compromising their rapport? In any case, she was going to pick and choose with care, accepting for inclusion in her write-up only what made sense to her as an objective researcher, Lilly Loveless resolved.

  ***

  “I have another friend who has a friend with Internet connection at home, who was telling her about how she dances in front of the Internet camera with her clothes off for her boyfriend, a Muzungu man in Muzunguland, a man she is yet to meet physically, or rather, face to face. He would get turned on and virtually come. Only trouble is, she would do this early in the morning or late at night with her bedside light on. She didn’t realize that her curtains were translucent, meaning her dancing shadow was perceived from the alley that ran by her bedroom window. So young boys were posted near her window at the expected times and instructed to call the older boys when things began. Her Internet show wasn’t as private as she thought and this led her to a lot of hassles. Boys in the neighbourhood started to think she was really loose and wouldn’t stop knocking on her door and stalking her. She finally had to move.”

  “And get opaque curtains?” asked Lilly Loveless.

  “No, away from her moralising neighbourhood,” said Britney. She thought for a while and added, “Do you know that if only one could make nonsense of morality one would make sense of a lot of nonsense?”

  “You mean reality can be most imprisoning?”

  “I mean moralising reality. This study of yours is teaching me that there are many things we fail to understand because we are too moralising in our approach to understanding them. Being too normative could stand in the way of discernment.”

  Lilly Loveless didn’t comment, but she knew Britney had a point.

  ***

  “There are other friends,” Britney went on, “who surf the net day and night, posting nude photos of themselves, sending emails left and right, mostly to Muzunguland, looking for boyfriends and husbands.”

  “Really? When the Internet here is so slow?”

  “They are patient. Women who look for a husband know that the first lesson in these things is patience,” Britney replied.

  “I see,” said Lilly Loveless. “Tell me more.”

  “There is one particular friend. She has given up on her studies at the university. She targets lonely hearts with love and comfort on the Internet. She can spend hours every day surfing for electronic footprints of her virtual game and virtually chatting, flirting, meeting and fornicating with perfect strangers, who have little time to waste trying to charm girls in real life. Her one and only obsession is finding a Muzungu husband rich enough to take her over to Muzunguland and marry her. So she spends the whole time creating different email accounts under different fake names, writing to various men around Muzunguland with offers of instant love. First she digs up your details by Google, which she studies meticulously. When satisfied, she sends you a test email, a sort of teaser. If you fall for it, then she passes to the next stage, which involves using all her attributes to lure you into marriage, or at least, into coming to visit or sending her a ticket to visit you.”

  “How ingenious,” remarked Lilly Loveless. “How often does she succeed?”

  “She hasn’t quite found a husband yet, else she wouldn’t still be here,” replied Britney. “But she has succeeded in bringing one Muzungu man here to visit and also in defrauding many of them of big cash. Some others, mostly the married ones, have taken cover behind the Internet to beat her at her own game. But even these ones have had their fingers burnt once in a while. You just can’t have your cake and eat it always.”

  “Really? Could I see her?”

  “That would be unethical, wouldn’t it? I’d not only be sharing with you, a total stranger, the life experiences of my friends and acquaintances, I would be exposing them to danger,” Britney moralised. “Do you think that the names I give you in the stories I tell you are real? I’d be the world’s greatest fool to do a thing like that.”

  Lilly Loveless felt it, acutely, and apologised profusely. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, just joking. You are perfectly right. No researcher should seek to violate the privacy of those she studies in this manner.”

  Britney was pleased to have Lilly Loveless on the defensive. It thrilled her, but she opted to reassure her employer. “Not to worry, Lilly. I know you didn’t mean it. But I copied down samples of the letters this girl who insists she is putting her natural resources to good use, writes and sends to multiple recipients around the net like baits.”

  “That’s an interesting analogy, using letters like baits to fish for lovers on the net. A real fisher of men, she is,” said Lilly Loveless, more to inspire herself in terms of analysis than for Britney.

  “One sample goes thus: Aloha, my dear friend. We don’t know each other yet, but I would greatly like to learn you better. I am a lady of passion and fire, the lonely heart that is looking for the second one to connect and give birth to a fire of love! I want to tell you about myself: I am a gatherer of good qualities – kind, romantic, passionate, tender, attentive, smart, attractive... and all this was not valued by men in my country, so I decided to find a husband abroad... My fire is burning, I am waiting for you to come and warm yourself near me... learn me better and write me a letter, I will be waiting to warm the winter of your heart! Have a nice day.’”

  Lilly Loveless shifted in her seat, her notebook and pen active.

  “In a second sample, she writes: ‘Hi, it is my great pleasure to meet you. How is life with you over there? Do not be surprised on how I managed to lay hands on your email address. It was through searching and I saw your profile and I fell for it, for first friendship cannot be seen or even be touched, it must be felt within the heart. Hoping you feel just the way I do. Wow, friends are like clothes, without them you feel naked! I guess am right. I am a Mimboland citizen, Lizette Banane by name, am 25 years old this coming December 25th, a single Christian lady. In case you have interest in my short introduction, please get back to me with the same email address. Then I can forward you my full background on all you need to know about me and my parents along with my picture. Till I read from you.’”

  “A real fisher of men, she is,” remarked Lilly Loveless.

  “With others, her bait is: ‘Hello Friend, how are you doing today? Well I’m Ebonia Honey. I’m 24 years of age and looking for the love of my life and a real man that will love me as much as I will love him in return. I’m single and if we get to know more of and love each other so much, we could walk up the altar some day as I would really love to settle down soon... I would be glad if I can find that one and only true love that I’ve been searching for all my life. I would want us to get to know each other by telling me more about yourself in your reply for us to know each other better. Get back to me as soon as you can and if you are interested. With Love, Ebonia Honey of Mimboland.’”

  Britney motioned to stop Lilly Loveless from making a remark, as she wanted to concentrate on the story. Lilly Loveless yielded and she continued.

  “Sometimes she is long and detailed: ‘Hi, I have the feeling that this piece of mail will reach you in a perfect state of mind and in better health. While searching through the net, I came across your contact address and decided to contact you. I believe and also have the feeling that in today’s world, there is no reason why rac
e, nationality or religion should stand in the way of a relationship between a man and a woman. Although, we do not know each other well, but I will really like to have you as a friend or pen pal if that is better for you. I am a single lady of 24 years of age, currently studying international relations at the University of Mimbo, a citizen of Mimboland, residing with my parents in Puttkamerstown. Presently, I am doing my final year in the university and so anxious to graduate into the free world. While I hope to hear from you soon, I also look forward to receiving some information concerning you, your family, city and even your personal life experiences. This will give us the opportunity of knowing each other better and be able to understand ourselves more. May God bless you as I wait to hear from you soon through this email address. Thanks. Yours Love, Arata Angèle.’”

  “Do the men write back often?” Lilly Loveless asked. “It is important for me to know,” she added when Britney eyed her with muted impatience.

  “When she is fortunate to attract a promising response, she passes to the next step: ‘Hello, it is my pleasure to have seen your reply to my mail. I wish to say thanks very much for it and acceptance to my friendship because it is very hard to confide or reply a strange mail from someone through the Internet in this new generation. Really we do not know each other but I believe it is the wish of God to have come in contact with you after going through your profile and saw your latest album, titled ‘On dit Quoi?’, which interested me and I decided to write you. So how are things in general, my dear? Hope sound, perfectly cool with you and your family? Well we have to give thanks to the Almighty God for his love and kindness on us all.

  ‘I am happy for the content of your sincere mail. Well, in respect of my profile, as I told you in my first mail that I am a 24-year-old student who is about to graduate soon with a degree in International Relations from the University of Mimbo, maybe going further to pursue my masters in future. I am a native of Mimboland from what is known locally as the 11th Region, and my full name is Anita Graffi.