There seems to be a simple, but weird arithmetic to giving a woman a home. In good cases, it only adds to everything but does not subtract. And in bad cases, it tends to only subtract and never adds substantial values. I said a ‘home’, and not a house! Please figure out the lexical semantics of “Home” and a “House” on your own dime, or at your leisure brethren. I noticed a while back that Muni was happy that I provided her with the best brick-mud bungalow in the whole of Fiditi. A six-bedroom, mini-mansion, with a spacious veranda in the front; with a huge living room complete with two sectional bay-windows barricaded with very thick, stained glasses. Ganiyu baba Taju, the ‘Federal Bricklayer’ gave me his best assurance that those windows automatically negate the need for any artificial ventilation. And in his words, he expertly opined that: *”Baa Waki, ooru kan o le mu yin mo l’aye n’nu ‘le yi, koda d’ebi kóró’pòn!”
*(Waki’s dad, you shall never suffer the slightest body heat in this house at all, even to your balls!)*
I commissioned Ganiyu to make Muni the best Kitchen in Fiditi. And he did! But he warned me again: *”Baa Waki, ile Ijoye o gbodo tun b’use ju t’Oba ilu lo o!” He then grudgingly built a spread in the back, with a huge passageway connecting from it to the back of the mainhouse. I figured, the bedroom would be her playground and the kitchen-her showroom. Three inground mud stoves stood a few feet apart from one another to make simultaneous cooking just a breeze. There’s a waterproof pantry to store her firewood and her plentiful bunches of Oguso in the events of the ceaseless West-African downpour, especially in the month of August. He then sensibly covered the huge kitchen with corrugated iron sheets, and further reinforced it with interwoven links of the strongest *Pandoro, as freshly harvested close to the bank of Odo-Oba! In short, I went all out to better my wife’s life!
*(Waki’s dad, the house of a commoner ought not be grander than that of Royalty)*
*(Pandoro- a very strong type of reed related to the bamboo)*
Wakilu has his own room. He has about 4 sets of strong, colorful Òòré mats money can buy anywhere. Though I instructed him, that he owns the discretion to change the mats at will. However the real reason for the many sleeping mats option was really to make the shame of his chronic bedwetting go easy on the poor boy’s psyche. At least we all can pretend his mat is “dry” at any given time. That is if there’s any credibility to the therapy of ‘Reverse Psychology.’ I initially thought to raise a concrete mantle for him in his room- such to give my boy a normal bed feeling, but again common sense prevailed. Wakilu is known to be as active in his sleep as he is fully awake. The last thing I hope to happen to my boy would be a Traumatic Brain Injury or others alike resulting from a hard fall from a high Pepe! In that instance again, I found valuable wisdom in Ganiyu’s cautionary words in that: *”A kii gb’ele eni ka f’orun ro!”
*(Hard for anyone to break a neck within the comfort of their own home)*
Jokojeje has a room that I planned on decorating with the paintings of Moremi, Queen Amina, Oya and other female Superheroes from across the land. Again ‘Caution’ was the watchword here! She’s too young to wake up in the middle of the night staring at perhaps the fierce looking caricature of Ògún and Sàngó’s old girlfriend or wife staring back down at her from the top of the ceiling. Definitely a recipe for nightmares, if you ask me. Anyhow her room is mostly empty except for her wardrobe and play knickknacks anyway! She’s only there when she has one or two of her ‘BFFs’ over. She sleeps with us still, and hopefully till her mom feels she’s up to being on her own. A heavy toll on me though, cause I have to be the one to lug her back and forth to her room and ours every night that I have to “remove Muni’s textile wrappers” to taste her “Choco-Milo” or, “tune-up her engine”. No child ought to deny me of my marital duties to my woman ke?! Besides that, Jokojeje, even for a little girl is sturdy and built like a wooden Mortar made in Igboland or Biafraland as some prefer it!
Our bedroom! By far’s the best feature in the entire house! It’s built to Muni’s specification. We have a king size, gold plated bed frame with a bogus clock tucked right in between two horizontal panels serving as the headboard. The clock with its loud ringing alarm could wake up an entire cemetery! A beast of a clock that routinely barks sense into my hangovers! One of these days, I hope it finds a lasting resting place under the bottom of a River, disturbing the fishes! We have an equally King-size Vono mattress on the bed. Built to last! The metallic bed posts are rigged to the ground, in order to practically nullify all structural wear and tear. Especially the annoying, maybe embarrassing rocking (back and forth) motions- peculiar with beds dedicated to excessive “shaggalicious” duties! Muni demanded a soundproof lair- a boudoir of sorts! And that’s what she got! For Muni I must tell you is a beast in the bedroom! Don’t mind her steely facade; or her essential prim and proper mien, Iya Wakilu is still a careless Moaner! The type to howl like a she-wolf, loud enough to wake up the damn street, if or when she’s way up there at the peak of “Mt. Ecstasy”. I often wonder what prize she stands to win if there ever was a competition dedicated to “Sex Moans And Groan Sounds?!” Besides a walk-in closet and a private bathroom with its plumbing connected to a huge water tank, which in itself is linked to another cluster of pipes that traps rainwater all built at huge cost, to complement the supply from the borehole next to it. Muni did our bedroom in such a way to minimise distraction. It’s a rule we don’t even argue in the bedroom, we must walk about two miles into the woods behind the house to settle our differences. And that bedroom is sparsely decorated it’s there only for sleep and to seriously shag! Yes she has an Ìlorin raised mat on the floor and the life-sized wooden sculpture of Oduduwa in the far corner! Yes she has a mahogany dressing mirror and a stool she inherited from the estate of her late grandmother, Iya Oniwosiwosi! And that’s all about it! No chair, not a TV, a radio nor even a picture could be seen hanging on the wall! It’s a room dedicated only to love, marital openness and the sweet camaraderie of “shaggalicious” duties!
The fourth and the fifth rooms respectively are strictly for visitors. The last room is my Man-Cave. That’s where I have my Grundig Record Changer, a Blaupunkt color TV, a mini-library, a full-sized functioning bar with Ògógóró, Omi Akerese, Sèkèté, Bùrùkùtù and ’33 Lager all on tap, and of course a games room! It’s the usual place I host my boys. My ‘boys’ meaning- my childhood friends! It’s perhaps the busiest or the noisiest room in the house. That’s where grown men quickly become quite gossipy, like adolescent girls. Especially those two dudes- Giwa Samosangudu and Deji Deji Laosun! In that room we are known to be quick to bet on anything! Two Agama lizards scuffling, we bet on it! Two kids racing one another we bet on it! A randy Goat trying to nut his frustrations away with a female goat, trust us to bet some loose change on them! We bet once on how quick it would take Giwa to start asking for his favorite ’33 lager beer! Unfortunately I lost that bet to Lanre Okunola! I thought our friend would at least step in the front door before yelling maniacally aloud like “Ring-My-Bell”; that mentally-disturbed individual- a permanent fixture alongside the Ring-Road motorway in Akure. He proceeded to ask for his favorite beer right at about 500 yards or slightly more from my house- by the front door of the Iginla compound! I heard him the first time because I was leaning against my front window- one of those two looming bay-windows that I described earlier!
Muni is exceptionally happy with her home! It’s technically my house too, but more as a living address, as it is much of her home in all manner of speaking. An address where I can be more or less freely classified as a “beneficial-tenant”. In that said, I am the Almighty of my Man-Cave! Watch a woman love her man. Watch her LOVE her kids. Then watch her really LOVE her home. Give a woman a home, and she shall make it a Paradise! Some, I’ve been made to believe- are wonderfully made- to turn even Paradise into Hell! I’ve given Muni a house, she’s made a comfortable home of it! She’s earned it! She deserves it!
*This is not a general opinion. It is my opinion!*
