With their eyes they taunt, with their words they mock. “When are we going to eat your rice?” they ask her. “Your age is increasing, your flower will soon fade o.” She in turn answers in derision, “Is it by force to be married? I like my life, leave me let me enjoy. Y’all should mind your unhappy businesses.” And they laugh at her in scorn, exchange knowing looks and sneer. They make a case out of her lifestyle, talking all sorts of things but she really doesn’t bother to correct their thinking even though they paint her a sinner. Not that their idle chatter about her leaves her unfazed; she has resolved that she’d rather live by taking that which is not hers to keep than struggle with standards of morality that are too strenuous to bear.
Take what you want, says the gods, take it and pay for it.
So she considers their mockery as payment for her reality. Besides isn’t her life more satisfying than all theirs? She wants another woman’s husband, one who is termed an adulterer for wanting her. For money, for love, for pleasure. “I just wanna be happy” she says, and she has the right to pursue happiness. For money; she needs him, has to be with him, for her sustenance and kin. And the moneybag deserves to be used; he doesn’t suffer as much as her. She’s out for him or rather, his money.
For love; her world revolves around him, she lives in torture waiting for him, pining for him and desiring him. And when he comes to her, no matter how brief his stay, her life is bliss. She wants the unattainable for she can never truly have him; what with his wife and children and his whole world at stake. He thinks of her as a friend of sorts, an asset to his life. It’s true he wants her but he wants that too. Her heart beats for him and she can’t cast him away so she stays content with being kept as the second wheel; the convenient pleasure giver. She is consoled by the thought that if his home becomes too much of a dissatisfaction he will turn to her for his desired haven. And though those people would label her adulteress, home wrecker, solicitress and whatever else, she would be happy because she has her man.
“Even if he will not stand by me or grow old with me, I’d choose him over and over as the object of my affection. I am never letting go of him.”
For pleasure; call it covetousness or a function of her chemistry. Or just because, she knows no other way of living. It’s one of those things. And when she wants him, she takes him. It doesn’t matter if he’s hers to have or not.
No one should ignore the power of another woman in a man’s life. While she might be oblivious to the influence she wields, let no thought be spared to her duplicity. There is no such thing as a harmless gesture in matters of the heart. Little trickles of water will wear a great boulder out.
#SalientMatters
06/12/2016
(c) ‘durotimi
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