Enitan

“Welcome to our home.” My hands were clasped together according to the greeting customs that had become customary in post-apocalyptic Nigeria and my head was bowed 30 degrees as I greeted my husband and his guests with two other female servants.

Among the guests were my husband’s familiar team members and two men I’d never seen before. One of the men was a mixed race man with the darker skin tone, facial structure, and the curly hair textures of the Solari as well as Lunari green eyes and shoulder-length hair.

He had an air of authority that even my husband didn’t have, despite being the leader of his dungeon-hunting team. There was also a calmness to him that reminded me of a venomous snake patiently camouflaging as a venom-free animal while stalking prey. From the way my husband, his team members, and the other man with him behaved, I could tell that he was the leader or related to the leader of the team my husband was trying to cooperate with, so I was extra respectful to him too.

After greeting the guests, I led them to the guest living room, which we didn’t even sit in as members of my husband’s household. The living room with a dining room had expensive furniture which my husband used to wine and dine his team members, other teams, important clan members, and government officials.

“What would you like to drink? We have water, soft drinks, palm wine, and western wine.” I asked, listening carefully as they shared what they wanted.

The woman seated beside my husband, a woman his team members called his weaver wife or work wife, placed her hand on his thigh as she said in a breathless voice that was supposed to sound seductive but only made her sound like some kind of strange animal. “I’ll have a cup of water now and some red wine during my meal.”

I ignored her provocative gaze as she draped herself all over my husband. I was just a married human wife and, unlike a weaver wife, I had little say in whether my husband cheated on me or didn’t. In fact, part of our agreement when I chose him as my husband during my coming-of-age ceremony was that he could sleep around with as many women as he wanted and he could marry as many wives as he wanted.

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After two years of marriage to him, I could even wholeheartedly say that I was no longer infatuated with him like I was when I married him. In true honesty, I didn’t really care if he slept with any and every woman or married a thousand wives. I even hoped he would marry another wife so I could avoid his unwanted attention at night.

So his work wife’s provocation was entirely useless as I turned to the next team member and noted his drink choice on a piece of paper like a waitress in pre-apocalypse Nigeria. Just like that waitress, I couldn’t afford to mix up drink choices or food choices because my guests were weavers, and, depending on how bad their tempers were, it would do me no good to make a mistake when dealing with them.

When I finally got to the green-eyed man everyone was staring at and catering to respectfully, he had a smile on his face as he stared at me. There was something familiar in his gaze that made every part of me tense up.

His green eyes glinted with desire in the well-lit living room. “Adepoju, you never told me that your wife was so beautiful.”

“Hahaha, didn’t I? Well, she truly is.” My husband’s laugh was fake and painful to hear.

“She’s also educated and knows how to write, yet she’s human. Is that your doing?” The green-eyed man continued.

“Oh, no. She was educated before she married me.” My husband said.

“Well, that’s great! Mrs. Ojo, I’ll have some palm wine before dinner and during dinner. I assume you’re the one who brewed the palm wine?”

I wanted to deny it, but this guest was too dangerous to lie to, so I just nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Okay, good, I look forward to tasting your palm wine.” He replied.

Although there was no lecherous look on his face, the way he stared at me made me uncomfortable. I could tell what he wanted from me and why he was complimenting me. This made me a little anxious because he was obviously one of the few dangerously patient men among the always anxious-to-show-their-superiority high-ranking weavers I had met. That was dangerous because men in as high up a position as he was found it harder to let go of the things they desired.

I nodded and listened to the drink choices of the remaining people present.

I was very careful as I served the drinks and then asked them for what they wanted to eat for dinner. After asking them to call for me when they were ready to eat dinner, I moved quickly out of visible distance of the green eyes that kept watching my every move as I hosted them before slumping onto the wall tiredly.

I rested for a few seconds before returning to the kitchen.

It was only after serving them dinner under that green-eyed man’s watchful gaze that I finally found a good spot in the kitchen’s veranda to eat with the servants after more than twenty hours without food.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t go take a bath and get some rest until I’d seen my husband’s guests off to the gate.