SHOCKING U-TURN (II)
As days unfolded, the 28-year-old
engineer, Dubem who was his parents’ only male child alongside his 25-year-old
fiancée Ebere – a psychologist – who was at the time serving her fatherland as
the country’s academic custom requested, kept pondering over what could have
informed the abrupt U-turn displayed by his father, Mr. Ike Ubochi.
On
his part, the maiden’s dad, Mr. Elu Okoro who had vowed never to approach the
purportedly aggrieved man towards ascertaining the actual cause of his
grievance, was ostensibly the bitterest creature on the mother Earth as the
uncalled malice continued unabated.
“Oh my God!” Mr. Ubochi’s wife, Nneka
soliloquized as she was seated lonely on her matrimonial bed in the evening on
a Friday. “Who has bewitched my husband?” She supplemented.
“Nobody has bewitched your husband.”
Mr. Ubochi who just returned from his private office responded as he walked
into the room.
He had aptly presumed what was
troubling her mind, thus needn’t a soothsayer to expatiate her moment of
anguish.
Mrs. Nneka who was startled by the
interruption, hurriedly looked up only to observe her hubby’s presence; it was
about 5:00pm. “You are welcome.” She managed to utter, still seated on the bed.
“Why are you eating up yourself over
nothing?” Mr. Ubochi queried as he calmly dropped his briefcase on the bed.
The mother of three looked up to him,
surprised. “Over nothing..?” She argued.
“Of course,” he said, stood still. “Is
there any cause for alarm?”
“Why are you saying this?” she roared.
“A man who loves and adores a girl suddenly turned around and began behaving
strangely.” she asserted, paused. “And you are here telling me there is no
cause for alarm.”
Mr. Ubochi tenderly sat closely to
her. “So,” he uttered. “Do you want to know what prompted the sudden change?”
Nneka fixed her gaze on his. “My dear
husband,” she said. “I absolutely deserve to know why that innocent girl
deserves such treatment.” She passionately opined.
“Okay, if you must know,” quoth Mr.
Ubochi. “That girl cannot marry my son because she is Osu.” He frankly
notified, paused. “None of my children will settle down with an Osu.”
An Osu in some parts of Igboland and
its environs is one who is traditionally regarded as an outcast, thus does not
deserve to associate with other members of his/her immediate or wider society
let alone getting married to them.
“Osu?” echoed Mrs. Nneka who had been
a pious woman as regards Christianity.
“Yes,
if you must know.”
She abruptly felt disappointed. “So
this is all about Osu, right?”
“You don’t believe in Osu?’ He
verified, became marvelled.
“If you were not my husband, I would have walked
out on you right now.” she informed with alacrity. “How can someone like you
who always sit at the front of the church be talking about Osu at this twenty
first century?”
“Will you shut up, woman!” he ranted.
“What do you know about tradition?”
“It is even more appalling that you
are a member of the knighthood.”
“And so?” he argued. “What does the
knighthood got to do with this?”
Mrs. Nneka shook her head. “You amuse
me, my dear husband.”
“Me, amuse you?” he said, placing his
right hand on his chest. “Woman, you better watch your tongue.”
“Isn’t it clear that…” Nneka
continued.
Before she could land, Dubem who
had been eavesdropping the conversation fiercely stepped into the room whose
door was widely open except the curtain. “So dad, this is it right?” He roared
as soon as he dashed in.
The couple was startled. “This is
what?’ Mr. Ike Ubochi managed to respond.
“So, this is all about Osu?” Dubem
supplemented.
The couple, particularly the man of the house
became mute, though Mrs. Nneka was apparently gladdened that the issue was no
longer concealed.
“So because of Osu,” Dubem proceeded.
“You have been witch-hunting that poor girl?” he said, gesticulating. “That
innocent girl, Ebere?” he added, still standing right before them.
Mr. Ubochi remained speechless as he
stylishly glanced at his wife who was still seated closely to him.
“You have forgotten that you have two
daughters who are yet to get married.” he furiously reminded. “So if you
continue with this kind of belief, who would marry them?’
“Will you shut up, Dubem?’ Mr. Ubochi
interrupted fiercely. “How dare you put up such question before your father?”
he said, paused. “So you have grown so wild, right?”
“You caused it, dad,” replied the
distressed dude. “You caused it.” He added in a jiffy.
“Dubem, is okay.” his mum urged
calmly. “You can excuse us.” She supplemented, looking strongly into his eyes.
On hearing the motherly voice, he
submissively looked at her, quickly turned his back on the couple and dashed
out.
“You see what you have caused?” Nneka
reaffirmed, stylishly glancing at the man of the house.
“Enough of this, please..!” Mr.
Ubochi said frowning, stood up from the bed and dashed out too.
Days later, Mr. Ike Ubochi was
invited by his church’s priest on the subject matter. The clergy had been
informed by Dubem who ran to him the following day after the altercation
between him and his dad.
“Sir Ike Ubochi,” the priest called
as they were seated in his office.
“Yes, pastor.” The knight responded.
“It is annoying that after all we
have preached in this church concerning the so-called Osu,” the Anglican priest
rode on. “People like you are still talking about it.”
“So pastor,” quoth the guest,
surprised. “My son reported me to you?”
“That is not the issue,” the priest countered.
“If you were in his shoes, you would do the same.” he said, paused. “This is a
very serious matter, sir Ike.”
The guest became dumbfounded at this
point, looking at the tiled floor.
“Please, I don’t want to hear this
again.” The clergy proceeded. “Go and reconcile with that innocent girl.” He
enjoined succinctly.
Weeks on as God would have it, Engr. Dubem
Ubochi successfully led Miss Ebere Okoro down the aisle. Before this period,
the father of the former had peacefully jettisoned all his charges against the
latter having heeded the church’s counsel. It was conspicuously a moment of
jubilation for both families.
Years down the line, the couple
remained happily married with promising kids.
The
rest is history, please.
FDN Nwaozor
Executive
Director, Docfred Resource Hub - Owerri
___________________________________
frednwaozor@gmail.com
Twitter:
@mediambassador 
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