By Bunmi Sofola
Wale was sleeping quietly in his hotel suite when the rude shrill of the telephone woke him. He looked at the clock, it was 6.00am! He was sleeping peacefully in his hotel room after a gruelling seminar when the phone rang. What the hell was going on? “Hello,” he yelled angrily down the phone.
“Oga, madam dey for reception, she say she de look for you. We say we no wan disturb you as you dey sleep with madam, your wife. E Say im be your wife. Na for laundry room I dey so. The woman still dey hala for reception, “ whispered the desk clerk. “What does she look like?” Wale asked, expecting the worst. “E no tall too much. E yellow small and wear glasses.” “I will be down in a minute,” Wale
snapped. Quickly, he told the ‘wife’ beside him, who was now wide-awake because of the commotion, to put on her house-coat and come with him. He then took her to another delegates’ room for female. He’d been most reluctant to take this delegate along with him to the three day conference so as to squeeze in Mary, his girlfriend of two years. But the poor woman was damn efficient. Now, thanks to her, Marry would have a room to hide. He also made sure none of Mary’s personal effects was left in the room.
He charged down to the reception and was astounded to find his wife yelling and causing a general disturbance. “I am his wife,” she snapped, her face swollen with rage, “any other woman in his room is his mistress. This is my ID card. I insist you take me to his room or I’ll make things difficult for you!” The hotel staff just glared at her and said nothing. “Moni,” Wale said
exasperatedly, “why are you doing this? Look at the time. You drove all the way from Ipaja to Otta alone in the car? When did you leave home? Who is looking after the children?”
“Don’ t give me any of your lecturers,” his wife admonished. “Just take me to your room. I want to see the type of slut you’re sleeping with this time. Is it a curse? That you should forever be sleeping with women of dubious pedigree? Can’t you keep your pants up! A whole top government official, sleeping around like a sex maniac…” Wale gave her a slap to calm her down and another one for good measure. “Moni is excessively jealous,” he said later. “I mean, what man doesn’t have a bit on the side? But it’s got to a point where when I’m out of sight for a couple of hours, she believes I’m holed up somewhere having sex. How much sex can a man handle for goodness sake? I’ve told her several times that if she goes on the way she’s now doing, she will have a heart attack. Even after I’d scolded her, she still insisted on going to my room. I waited at the reception and asked one of the waiters to take her, convinced she would find anything incriminating. When she later came down, shame-faced, I barked at her that I would see her at home, then left her in the reception—let her go back the way she came!”
Dealing with a suspected other woman is a nightmare most wives don’t know how to handle very well. Pretend as if the other woman doesn’t exist and your man accuses you of not caring. Show a bit of care and you’re tagged selfish and nasty.
When Pauline’s husband refused to stop seeing his mistress of over two years, she decided to go and have a heart-to-heart talk with her to leave her man alone. “She runs a very posh restaurant,” Pauline said, “and her residence is not far from my place of work. I was in luck the day I finally had the courage to knock on her door. Before then, my husband had completely thrown caution to the wind. He’d been seen openly at parties with her and his car had been parked overnight at her place several times. I knew the woman was very successful and often gave my husband money, but one’s pride is one’s pride.
“Even when I spent money on good clothes, people would insinuate that they were presents from my husband’s lover. That I condoned the relationship because of the gifts she was always giving me. How cruel can people be? I was in luck, as I said, and the maid let me in. The wo&-n was mildly surprised
when she saw me. Of course, she knew who I was, but for me to have come to her house? ‘May I help you?’ she asked, courteously. I must give her credit for being so composed.
“It’ s about my husband, Aaron, I want you to stop seeing him,” I said falteringly. She arched her yebrow quizzically as I babbled on about how irresponsible he was behaving, how the children never saw him and so on.
“She looked a bit amused as I rattled on and I felt like strangling her! “I’m sorry, if you’ve been having all these problems with Aaron,’ she told me as if pacifying a child, “it’s a good thing you are here now. Aaron is in the bedroom. Let me fetch him so we can sort this out once and for all.” I went very cold. Aaron emerged from the bedroom even before his mistress had time to fetch him and he looked apologetic. I felt so frustrated that I just sat there and started crying. Aaron went
back inside, put on his clothes and took me home.
His mistress looked a bit surprised but said nothing; was she expecting Aaron to choose her over me?
“He was very apologetic. He told me he didn’t know that I cared so much about him and that his relationship with this other woman was giving me so much stress. That when he came out of the bedroom and saw me sitting helplessly in his mistress’ living room, he felt thoroughly ashamed of himself.
He gave me his word that the affair was over as far as he was concerned. And I’ve never had any doubts he’ll stick to his promise.”
So you see being confrontational could swing either way. It could bring your man back to his senses or send him back to the arms of his mistress. All you need to know is the right time to put on the pressure.