Married But Available

by B. Nyamnjoh

  “Thanks for the moving poem,” said Lilly Loveless. “I’d like your permission right away to reproduce it in my thesis…”

  “Granted,” interjected Britney.

  “My very final question,” Lilly Loveless smiled at Britney who shook her head sceptically upon hearing the words ‘very final’. “What would you say were the challenges you faced collecting the stories you shared with me?”

  “That’s easy,” began Britney, giving the impression this was something she had thought over several times.

  Lilly Loveless was poised to write.

  “The strike was both a blessing and a hurdle,” explained Britney. “It made it a lot easier for me to do the research, than would have been possible with normal life at UM. But it also meant that I could only interview those I knew and saw by accident. Even then, a good number of girls took my questions as an intrusion on their privacy and were reluctant to answer in spite of my assurance of confidentiality. So I had to resort to covert research methods, hearsay and congosai as the need arose.”

  Lilly Loveless looked up.

  Reacting to the in her eyes, Britney continued, “I felt guilty having to come back to you with excuses about people being secretive and uptight. But then, some hearsay or congosai can just not be avoided in something like this, as such relationships are by nature secretive.”

  Lilly Loveless resumed writing.

  “For one thing, I found it extremely difficult to contact married men for interviews. Most of them were too busy for me. Some thought I was a spy and others held back as much as they could. Some were more interested in the researcher – as I often introduced myself, rather presumptuously, I suppose – than in the research. This was a very serious impediment, although one could also see it as further proof of the research. There is also the fact that, since M &G relationships take place mostly under the cover of darkness even in broad daylight, the only Mbomas and Girls I was most likely to interview or hear about, were either that I knew already or those I knew through someone who knew them or their stories.

  Lilly Loveless felt and looked reassured.

  “I have learnt a lot about research, especially the fact that some things are a lot more difficult to research than others. I now understand the full meaning of what my research methods lecturer at UM means when he says, ‘Not all that counts can be counted, not all that can be counted counts.’”

  “Could you repeat that, please?” said Lilly Loveless. “I want to write it down exactly as you say it.”

  “You’ve taught me to live up to the challenge of doing research on a slippery theme or with elusive people,” concluded Britney. “I can’t wait to put these skills to use when classes resume at UM. How can I ever thank you enough, Lilly?”

  “That’s very sweet of you, Britney,” said Lilly Loveless, a look of appreciation on her face, “but the honour is mine, the debt as well. I can’t begin to tell you how much you’ve taught me…”

  24

  Amanda-Hope is known and respected as the hopelessly hopeful dynamic coordinator for Puttkamerstown of Women against HIV/AIDS in Mimboland (WAHAM). At the University of Mimbo which she frequents, and where she has been invited several times to counsel and to give talks on HIV/AIDS, she is fondly renowned for her no nonsense views. She is a darling of the VC who is known to be very strict and inquisitive on matters related to the private lives of students, and who hates to hear or see young girls going out with married men, having witnessed her twin sister lose two husbands to girls gone wild in the past. Being too deeply suspicious of men herself to have bothered taking one as a husband, the VC did not make a secret of the fact that she hated her sister’s wayward mediocre husbands for what happened, and had proceeded to convince her sister never again to soil herself with marriage. She was reportedly revolted when her sister confessed: “My husbands did not treat me like a house with many rooms. They preferred sitting around the veranda without even opening the main door to explore what I really am worth.”

  The sister’s experience only renewed in the VC old wounds of her own bitter disappointment of some 30 years ago, when the only man she came closest to loving, turned out to be a phoney determined to fill her ears with flattery as long as he got the only thing he craved – sex. When she discovered that this terribly determined suitor was married and a father and that his wife was by every standard a beautiful woman, she was stunned and betrayed. Even when he knew she knew the truth, his desire only grew with her unavailability. The last straw came when the ‘filthy fellow’, in a moment of desperate madness at her office one day, dropped his trousers and exposed his manhood, insinuating that he was doing her a favour, since he thought she was without admirers. Incensed and shamed, she felt tempted to call his wife and tell her, but decided against honouring him with importance he hardly deserved. Instead, she resolved never again to even contemplate wasting her feelings on such dishonest creatures as men. Since then, she has crusaded against married men seeking to prey on innocent girls. As Vice-Chancellor, her body temperature is said to rise meteorically whenever she sees or is made to imagine female students clad in provocative, ever-diminishing little attires that amount to what she calls ‘naked dressing’. She prayerfully hates to see female students ‘expose secret, sacred and sensual parts of their bodies’ in the name of fashion, and is passionately at war against ‘men raping girls of their innocence and the joys of womanhood’.

  “Girls nowadays dress as if their parents are too poor to afford the cloth tailors need to stitch them decent dresses,” Amanda-Hope would agree, rubbing pepper and adding salt to the wound, much to the admiration of the VC. To Amanda-Hope, micro mini-skirts are “no-cross-gutter”. All those who accept “condom-skipping fees” or who prefer men with number plates from Sawang and Nyamandem, or who scramble after bushfallers or expatriates they hardly know, let them be warned: “It is true that stolen waters are sweet and bread eaten in secret is good, but you must watch out not to carry ‘cam-no-go’. No one forbids you from eating from your beauty, but you mustn’t sell your health or sacrifice your studies for filthy money and the company of men with funny smells. AIDS is serious enough for us to take it seriously. Over 5 million youths are missing education because of AIDS. Join us to fight against it. Proper use of condoms is safe, abstinence is safer. Say No to AIDS by saying Yes to Protection, Fidelity and Abstinence. Get an HIV test – know your status. Let’s all bar the way to AIDS.” She was omnipresent on campus even when she was absent, thanks to the powerful messages on signposts associated with her.

  Lilly Loveless was overjoyed when Amanda-Hope finally agreed to talk to her, not at her office but at Miss World Inn, a sensational and newly opened pleasure spot endowed with beautiful flower gardens, just outside of Puttkamerstown, on the way to Pawa-Town. The prevailing strike had hampered the initial schedule Lilly Loveless had drawn up for her research prior to her arrival in Mimboland. The idea had been to directly interview as many students and staff as possible, but she had ended up relying almost exclusively on Dr Wiseman Lovemore, Bobinga Iroko, Britney, Adapepe, Mrs Lovemore and a few others, incredibly rich though the latter were in social networks and information on goings-on at the university and around town. Every time she got round to actually interviewing someone herself, was therefore always cause to celebrate. It was a Sunday morning, and Amanda-Hope had agreed to have lunch with Lilly Loveless, and then settle down comfortably under one of the huts in the garden for their chat.

  Lilly Loveless was already seated at Miss World Inn when Amanda-Hope, fair in complexion and modest in her elaborately and colourfully embroidered Mimboland kaba, arrived in a luxurious Toyota Prado. Lilly Loveless could see it was the project car, from the “Women against HIV/AIDS” inscribed in bold letters on its body.

  They ordered their food and drinks, moved tables to a corner where they could talk freely, and started chatting, first on generalities. Lilly Loveless asked Amanda-Hope about her job, the challenges posed by HIV/AIDS in student circles in particular, and the
efforts by government, NGOs and other segments of society to curb the pandemic. Amanda-Hope impressed Lilly Loveless with her knowledge on the matter. She said the situation was alarming. There was much campaigning to change behaviour, but old ways die hard. In schools and universities around the country, students were victims of startling insensitivity on the part of men and women, boys and girls, who insisted on going on as if nothing was the matter. Amanda-Hope was particularly concerned with girls, whom she said were more vulnerable to the virus than boys owing to several physiological factors. “There is a female prevalence rate of 11 percent as opposed to 5 percent for males,” said she. It was also worrying that the age group of 20-34 years was up to 70 per cent most at risk of contracting the virus and other sexually transmissible infections. Her AIDS work at the university was basically that of sensitisation of students on vulnerability to and prevention of infection with HIV; the impact of AIDS, voluntary counselling and testing, care for the infected and affected.

  “There’s hope,” said Amanda-Hope, “We’ve come a long way, my critical assessment notwithstanding. Although much remains to be done, one can observe a considerable change of behaviour among young people. They are abstaining and sexual debut is being postponed. They are using condoms with non-regular sex partners while many of them are coming out voluntarily for counselling and testing,” she noted. In addition, the increasing availability of antiretroviral drugs means that fewer persons are dying. I however remind every student I counsel that this does not mean that the virus has been eliminated. It is still there and if we do not continue and maintain the prevention strategies, the virus will continue to circulate and the chain of infection will continue as in a vicious cycle.”

  “Those are sensible words,” said Lilly Loveless. “There’s nothing as dangerous as false hope.”

  “We can’t afford to relent in our efforts,” agreed Amanda-Hope. “HIV/AIDS is a chronic disease but it’s not any chronic disease. If not taken care of, it can wipe out the whole country.”

  “I understand you are a key advocate for condomisation amongst students. How successful is your campaign in this regard?”

  “Yes, I’m a crusader for condoms because they are the next best thing to abstinence,” replied Amanda-Hope. “Sex outside marriage has always been a dangerous adventure, but with HIV/AIDS, it has become a thousand times more dangerous. For many students, having sex is a symbol of freedom, and it is irresponsible for us to deny them this freedom or to assume that they wouldn’t pursue it simply because we tell them not to. Matters are worsened by the fact that the condom is not without its own problems. Just the other day, a female student confessed: ‘I love sex because it is about the only freedom I have. But when I have to use a plastic bag to protect myself, this somehow diminishes my freedom, because there is always the nagging suspicion that the man you are having sex with could be HIV positive. Over time, I’ve got used to the condom which has become an organic part of my body, thanks to many years of health warnings and safe sex campaigns on radio, TV and billboards. Then, just last week, after a waterfall of pleasure and sensations with a perfect stranger, I realized the condom which he said was of exceedingly high quality had split, spilling its contents into me. I felt miserable, to say the least…’ She feared several things all at once, from pregnancy to STDs and HIV… things falling apart. She is receiving counselling as we speak.”

  Their food arrived. They wished each other bon appétit and ate with pleasure.

  “I would like to thank you again for so kindly accepting to talk with me on my research,” Lilly Loveless began negotiating the passage from the general to the specific and personal, as soon as they were both through with eating.

  Amanda-Hope understood where she was heading: “I understand,” said she. “You explained to me on the phone, and I offered to share my story with you, in the hope that you find it useful in your work. I have one condition only. I don’t want my voice taped. But you can take notes, as much as you like. Is that clear?”

  “That’s clear. I have no problem with that. One of the ethical preconditions for doing fieldwork is not to use a recorder during an interview without the consent of the interviewee,” Lilly loveless reassured.

  That was the reassurance Amanda-Hope needed. “Coeurdelion used to be and remains the man of my dreams, the Mr Right that never was, and never shall be,” she began.

  Lilly Loveless opened her notebook and started writing.

  “He is far away from here and I haven’t seen or heard from him for ages, but when it lasted, I would sleep him, dream him and write him irresistible. I would find a reason to contact him by email, SMS, or telephone every day, just to hear his lion-hearted voice. Sometimes I would beep for him to call back, which he did unfailingly, making me feel guilty. Let me take you through my experience with Coeurdelion, in the present tense, which is how I continue to see him,” Amanda-Hope looked up for approval.

  Lilly Loveless nodded.

  “I would ask myself,” Amanda-Hope continued, “How come he is always able to call back, SMS or email? I feel a little selfish, especially if I take into account the unholy hours my compulsive urge to reach out to him sometimes makes me SMS or call him. His wife, whom I’ve never met but whom I respect, is a very beautiful woman and carries herself with a dignity that’s out of this world, so it has filtered through to me thanks to my obsessive searches on Google image. I’m attracted to Coeurdelion beyond the sexual, although just the sound of his name turns me on. There’s just something about him, something his wife should feel terribly lucky to be the woman to end up enjoying on a daily basis. Marriage is not always accounted for by good looks, so she shouldn’t feel that her beauty, which is ten times more than my average looks, qualifies her to have him. Luck must come in somewhere when we talk of marriage. But I do respect her for having the trophy I wish I had. I don’t know if you have come across men like him, but every woman would surely know him when they meet one. We talk and dream and hope for Mr Right. To me, he would qualify as the Mr Right of my life,” she smiled, her eyes lost in the distance of her imagination.

  “Mr Right,” echoed Lilly Loveless. “Lucky you! Should I say all is well that starts well?”

  “Not necessarily,” retorted Amanda-Hope. “I don’t know how to tell our story in a coherent manner, but I met him when we went to Nyamandem for a two week long seminar on Social Networking and HIV/AIDS Transmission.”

  “A meeting organized by Women against HIV/AIDS?”

  “Yes, in a way,” said Amanda-Hope. “Although to be more exact, it was the First Lady of Mimboland who organized the seminar through her foundation.”

  “What’s the name of the First Lady? And what is her foundation called?” Lilly Loveless wanted every detail, just in case she needed to refer to this particular point in her writing up. Nothing was more frustrating than leaving the field only to realise there were critical gaps in the data collected. She could always rely on Britney to fill her up on missing links, but the more she got right before returning to Muzunguland the better.

  “Her name is Supanana, and her foundation is called Fondation Oyéyéyéyéoyé.”

  “What a name for a foundation. What does it mean?”

  “It is a form of ululation.”

  “What for?”

  “For the blessings that come with being lucky, I suppose. The land of Mimbo is blessed to have such a formidable couple at the helm of state.”

  “Thanks. Sorry for the interruption.”

  “No problem. I know what being a student on fieldwork is,” said

  Amanda-Hope. “I did something similar when I was working on my Masters in Development Studies at the University of Assieyam in Nyamandem.”

  “I’m glad you understand,” said Lilly Loveless.

  Amanda-Hope went back to her story: “Coeurdelion was one of the resource persons for the seminar. His sense of humour combined nicely with his pedagogical prowess and street-wise, common sense, and scientific knowledge of the issues made him
stand out as the darling of the participants. Everyone wanted a moment with him, sought to catch his attention. I did the same, although I didn’t spend much time in his company. To make matters worse, unfortunately a list of participants and their addresses distributed at the end of the seminar did not contain his details.”

  “Was he so successful and solicited that he deliberately wanted to keep people from contacting him?” asked Lilly Loveless.

  “That was the same question I asked myself then,” replied Amanda-Hope. “However, when I returned to Puttkamerstown, I found a way of writing to him an email. I told him how very impressive he was, and how his performance had strangely, made me feel very close to him. He had become like “a sweet dear friend I’m dying to see” and wished that he could just hop onto a bus to see me. I remembered starting the letter with ‘My very dear Coeurdelion’, which was somehow audacious. Perhaps to feel less embarrassed, I also talked of the other resource persons, singling out the only female amongst them whom I described as ‘a sweet lady’.”

  “Did he reply?” asked Lilly Loveless. She was keen to make Amanda-Hope know that she was listening avidly, as a way of encouraging her to tell her story in as detailed a manner as possible.

  “He replied. Didn’t say much, but said enough for me to hang onto. So I emailed him back: ‘Now I feel better and I’m smiling again,’ I told him. Then, talking of him as if he wasn’t the friend in question, I added: ‘That is a trademark of the dear friend, to put a smile on my face, which this friend does so effortlessly. I prefer to deal with this friend because this person brings out the uninhibited part of me. I feel terribly at ease with this friend, don’t feel conscious of what I do or say and I feel as if I’ve known this friend for a long time.’”

  “I bet he wrote volumes in reply,” anticipated Lilly Loveless.

  Amanda-Hope smiled. “You don’t know Coeurdelion,” she added. “He is very economical with words, says very little even when emotionally in the brim.”