DOMINATION
by
A. Igoni Barrett
I
Ifedior Idoko, a long-limbed and pigeon-chested man of some thirty-odd years with eyes as sad as a drowsy bloodhound�s, gathered his feet in readiness to rise from the floor, then changed his mind and instead leaned over and nuzzled Godiya�s neck. His teeth chattered musically. Godiya turned her face towards him, her eyelids tight with contentment, her lips expectantly parted. He covered her mouth with his and lifted a trembling hand to her exposed breast, and stroked the infant�s head. For long seconds the only sound in the room was the smack of sucking lips.
�I love you so much,� he mumbled into her mouth, and abruptly broke the kiss � but only so he could plant one on Malachi�s head.
�I love you right back,� Godiya said, and yawned.
Ifedior Idoko rose. He shuffled over to the door of the room, a cubbyhole really, and flung it open. It was a cold, damp, watercoloured morning, promising, unlike yesterday, to blossom into a wet day.
Today, unlike yesterday, Ifedior Idoko and Godiya had nowhere in particular to go. So, to maximize time, Ifedior Idoko grabbed his soap-dish and towel and headed for the corrugated iron cubicle that served the whole compound as a bathroom and urinal. He met the queue only twelve persons long.
�Good Morning,� he said, claiming a spot with his soap-dish.
�Fee-fo-fi-fum,� he thought he heard as he moved towards the well to draw his bath water.
While having his bath, his breath held, as usual, in the ammoniac reek of the bath stall, Ifedior Idoko spent an inordinate amount of time soaping his groin, thus eliciting angry howls from the ever-lengthening queue that impatiently awaited his exit. The soap suds in his ears made it easy for him to ignore their obscenities. Then someone said, with malicious loudness:
�See palaver O! Any time im ride im woman im must keeps us waiting de whole morning. Wetin im dey wash comot I no even know.�
This gibe Ifedior Idoko found impossible to ignore. So he ended his bath and lurched out into the cold.
While Godiya bustled about her toilette, Ifedior Idoko, fully dressed and perfumed in yesterday�s perspiration, held the fort against the rambunctious Malachi. It took a disrobing just to convince him that his father�s breast was as dry as it looked. And then, to coax him into his nappies; and tease a shirt over his head; and oil and comb out his babyhood Mohawk � by the time Godiya was fresh for the day Ifedior Idoko was as limp as any man expertly provoked could get.
The first thought that entered Ifedior Idoko�s mind when Godiya proclaimed �I�m ready� was pity, for his feet. He had blisters the size of crocodile eggs on both big toes. But, as he watched Godiya stuff her handbag with the baby�s articles, his self-pity was nudged aside by an overwhelming sense of guilt, which, when Godiya repeated her summons, made him heave a soundless sigh that reverberated through his soul. He gathered Malachi up.
�Looking sweet,� he said, hoping to please.
The day had broken its promise. The sun, which moments earlier had been only as bright as the face of a new widow, was now out in all its glory, and blazing like a cuckold�s wrath. Ifedior Idoko slung Malachi cross-shoulder as Godiya secured the door behind them. Then, with a quick glance at the wrist to confirm that it was exactly two minutes and seven seconds short of nine o� clock, they set off in tandem, Godiya leading.
After they had walked for upwards of thirty minutes in a silence broken only by the vocal accompaniments to Malachi�s mood swings, and had struck well into one of the city�s commercial arteries, Godiya reached a decision.
�We�ll do secondary schools today,� she said, throwing the words over her shoulder.
And presently they were standing before a barred gate. A dilapidated sign arched over it read:
MAKOKO GRAMMAR SCHOOL
EST. 1967
MOTTO: KNOWLEDGE IS THE AXE IN THE FOREST OF
IGNORANCE
(COURTESY OF THE SENIOR CLASS OF �72)
Through the gate, a latticework affair, several ramshackle buildings could be seen teetering on the edge of a sprawling field. The hubbub of idle pupils filled the air. Godiya created quite a racket with her knuckles before the gatekeeper, an old man bent as much from the bitterness of a pensionless veterancy as from the ravages of age, put in an appearance. After subjecting them to the joyless spectacle of his approach for longer than a mere reprimand deemed necessary, he finally arrived at the gate. Wheezing like a blacksmith�s bellows, he peered into the faces of the trio with eyes over-brimming with tears.
�A bit young for secondary, isn�t he?� he finally spoke in a phlegm-coated whisper, staring at Malachi.
�We aren�t here for him. It�s me,� Godiya explained.
�A bit old for secondary, aren�t you?� the gatekeeper observed, swinging his reptilian gaze to somewhere beneath Godiya�s chin.
�No no! I mean � not that! I am looking for a job.�
�No vacancies,� the gatekeeper said, the tears dropping as if at her folly.
�But if I could just see the principal...�
�Still no vacancies.�
�But how can you be sure...�
But she was talking to a retreating back, its progress as stately as a tortoise�s.
�Imagine!�
Ifedior Idoko�s attention, elsewhere during this exchange, fell back to earth with a jolt. Already the telltale signs were there: the constricting neck tendons, the spasm in the cheek � as recognizable as the travails etched in his palm. Moving quickly to defuse the situation, he leaned into Godiya from behind. He took care not to brush her hindquarters with his crotch and to keep Malachi�s probing fingers away from her hair; and then he planted a kiss on her neck.
�Let�s go, Godiya,� he begged, his voice a throaty purr.
�But can you imagine the bloody fool!� she exploded, turning to him.
�Don�t waste your energy on him, my sweet,� Ifedior Idoko cajoled, pinning Godiya�s body against the gate with his. �He doesn�t deserve it. Let�s just go.�
�If not for you! If not because of you�� And shoving her restraint away with one powerful heave of her hip, she turned to the gate and grabbed the grille and pressed her face against it, and yelled: �I would have given the bloody old fossil a bloody piece of my mind!�
A scramble followed this proclamation, and then the windows and doorways of Makoko Grammar School began to fill up with expectant faces. Ifedior Idoko was however already moving away; and, after one last baleful glance at the gatekeeper�s hunched figure, Godiya, to the disappointment of many, set off after him.
It was a full seventeen minutes and twenty-three seconds later that Godiya obtained sufficient mastery of her emotions to address her first words to Ifedior Idoko.
�I�m hungry,� she said.
As there was between the both of them monies amounting to exactly seventy-five naira, and, furthermore, as the said sum was in Godiya�s possession for safekeeping, it was understandable that Ifedior Idoko, due to the heat, and the pointlessness of comment, made no reply. Godiya, however, chose to read in his silence an affront.
�I said I am hungry, can�t you hear?� she began, slowing down to let Ifedior Idoko draw level with her. �Even if you have no consideration for me, there should at least be some pity on account of your child. I woke up twice last night to breastfeed him. I fed him again this morning. All this on the one meal I ate yesternight, the same quantity that you ate. Even less. So, if you are not hungry I am not surprised � I am nourishing two bodies. Have some pity, Ifedior.� And with a catch in her voice she concluded with, �At least have some pity.�
Her heaving breasts reiterated her demand for pity. Due to their proportions however (they were the size of watermelons, or mutated pawpaws, or nothing fruitfully describable), they were in Godiya the feature least inspiring of pity. As they bounced passersby ogled her, the men envying Ifedior Idoko the noteworthiness to make those wonders dance so. But, tearing their spleen-tinted gazes away, the women found comfort elsewhere; as, facially, alas, Godiya was as homely as a country cottage.
Ifedior Idoko, though likewise entranced by the spectacle before him (but not so much so as to lose sight of the issue behind it), turned the full force of his gravedigger�s eyes on Godiya; and, when he spoke, altered his voice accordingly.
�I�m sorry,� he said, ultra-softly. And then, with sudden access to a blistering conviction, he added: �I love you, Godiya.�
�Well, don�t you forget it,� Godiya said, her anger for the meanwhile assuaged.
They tramped in silence to the end of the road, and, turning off into a side street, soon arrived at a crossroads. The motorways and sidewalks were packed with automobiles and humans; everywhere was a street market. Still carrying Malachi, Ifedior Idoko quickened his steps until he had overtaken Godiya. Then, like a cowcatcher to her headway, he forged a path through the teeming mass. While thus hard at work he felt a pinch on his arm: he swung one eye to Godiya even as the other was trained on a man whom he suspected was either coming to knee him in the groin or to snatch Malachi from his arms. This seeming danger was however averted when Godiya motioned with her head towards some food vendors directly alongside.
They purchased some bread, and then came to a halt before a tired-looking woman who sat hunched behind her laden egg crates like she was hiding from the world.
�Two chicken eggs and one guinea fowl egg,� Godiya said, holding out the money. But the woman�s gaze, suddenly avaricious, was elsewhere. Following her line of sight, Ifedior Idoko�s eyes lit upon Malachi�s face. Then, without warning, the woman began to cry. Ifedior Idoko looked at Malachi to see what he had done. Finding nothing blameworthy, he decided that the woman had lost a child. But, looking from Malachi squirming in his arms to the woman shuddering from her grief, he changed his mind. She has never had a child, he thought; and, Godiya moving off in a huff, he followed.
It was at thirty-seven minutes and fifty-nine seconds past twelve that Godiya, leading once more, first sighted the prison walls of Baptist High School, Makoko. Moments later they were passing unchallenged through the open gate. It took them just three minutes and forty-one seconds to get their bearings, at the end of which they had ensconced themselves in the principal�s waiting lounge.
After several minutes of parrying the secretary�s inquiring glances, the door of the principal�s office finally swung open to disgorge a crowd of chattering schoolgirls. As they skipped from the lounge the principal stuck his head out from the doorway, and, catching sight of the waiting couple, stared his full of them.
�Yes?� he enquired, with a raise of his eyebrows.
�Visitors for you, sir. Not parents. Confidential matter,� said the secretary, unloading at a go all she had managed to glean.
�Are you together?� the principal asked, directing the question at Godiya�s bust.
�Yes sir, we are,� she replied.
�Then hurry up, I don�t have all day,� he said, and retracted his head.
Godiya, as usual, led the way. She strode up to the principal�s desk and, at his prompting, sat down. It was only after Ifedior Idoko had shouldered the heavy metal door shut behind him, and turned to take a seat, that he realized that he had been relegated to a dust-soaked sofa gracelessly decaying in the corner. As he lowered himself into the dust eddies that rose from the seat at his approach, he consoled himself with the reflection that the principal�s having only one seat across from him was a development independent of their visit.
The principal was a middle-aged man with the paunch of a beer lover, and a face that gave him access to the warmest feelings of esprit de corps amongst cut-throats and child-rapists. And, topping this was a dome that gleamed like the path of a snow tractor, the tufts of graying hair over his ears completing the impression.
The expanse of table-top that separated the principal from Godiya was a child�s room jumble. It was littered with, amongst the other paraphernalia of his profession, �AIDS is real� stamped boxes of condoms and fat textbooks crumbling in their plastic wrappers. On the wall behind the desk was a framed picture of the principal as a younger man, with a woman beside him that he clasped like a wife, but who was large enough of girth to pass for a grandmother.
�What can I do for you?� the principal asked Godiya, forming a triangle with his forefingers and observing her through it.
�I need your help, sir,� Godiya said.
�How so?� he asked, and leaning back in his swivel-chair, he aimed his joined fingertips at Godiya�s heart.
�I need a job, sir.�
�As what?�
�As a teacher. I can teach biology and agricultural science... and even mathematics to the junior classes.�
�What qualifications do you have?�
�I have a first degree in Agronomy. I graduated with a first class honors from the University of...�
�And him?� the principal interrupted her, inclining his head in Ifedior Idoko�s direction.
�He is the father of my child.�
There was a pause.
�That�s all,� she added.
�I see.�
The principal spent some moments considering the offer, his eyes glued to Godiya�s chest. Finally, with a deep sigh, he spoke.
�If I were to offer you a job...�
�Oh sir!� Godiya breathed, clutching at her bosom in a thrill of delight, �I would be so grateful, sir! Oh sir...�
�IF I were to offer you a job,� the principal continued, ignoring her outburst, �it would be only on a temporary basis � that is, subject to your performance, of course, but also subject to the verification of the appointment by the mission board. By the way, are you a Baptist?�
�No, sir.�
�Do you have anything against becoming one?�
�No sir, I don�t.�
�Good. Good. That�s that, then. Now,� and at this he lowered his voice and clasped his sausage-thick fingers over his paunch, and gave his chair a little swivel, �are you ready for your interview, eh?�
A small dust storm rose about Ifedior Idoko; Godiya, however, did not bat an eyelid.
�Yes I am, sir,� came her reply.
Raising his voice several notches, the principal said: �The young man may leave us now.� Under Godiya�s compelling gaze, and the principal�s disdainful one, Ifedior Idoko rose, trancelike, from his seat. Ignoring Malachi�s wails of protest, he slipped from the room.
II
Ifedior Idoko was saved from Malachi�s wrath by the secretary: she bore the shrieking child away to do what women do with babies � show him off. Temporarily relieved of their burden, his tired arms fell into his lap; his fingers played with the worn nap at his trouser knees. His eyes kept roving between the idleness of his hands and the shut door of the principal�s office. Under his breath, in singsong, he recited,
�Into my heart
Into my heart
Come into my heart
Lord Jesus...�
Ifedior Idoko didn�t really mind becoming a Baptist. Pity though � he had just begun to gain some recognition in his present church for the power of his invocatory prayers. He would have to start all over again: new prayer classes, new bible study groups, new pastors to impress. He had �started all over� so many times in the past six months that he was beginning to get a little tired of... No, never. He would never tire of asking of the Lord. In His name all things were possible. All things. He could never get tired.
�In-to my heart
In-to my heart
Come in-to my heart
Lord Jee-zus��
But, life was strange. To think that he had never really been the �Christian� type; in fact, once, in his salad days, he had proudly and loudly borne the title �atheist�. Now that he understood what the word actually meant he had to admit that he had been more agnostical in his beliefs, or non-belief, than anything else. But that foolishness was all done with. He knew better now.
Please God, Ifedior Idoko prayed, if only Godiya will get this job... He was tired. They had been out on the road everyday for the past four days, plodding from one gate to the other, looking for work. At first they had written application letters, spending more money on postage in a day than they did on feeding. In that way they had wasted three whole months, surviving from day to day on the pipedream of a reply. Of the more than six hundred letters that they had sent out, only two resulted in interview invitations.
The first interview that Godiya attended was for a bank job, and it was a breeze; she had scored the highest in the written test and had committed no unforgivable gaffes during the oral examination. But the slip-up came when she was asked about her sponsor. Naively, she hadn�t slept with any of the members of the interview panel, and, failing that, could not even produce a letter from anyone of note. She was refused the job on the spot.
The second interview was also for a job in a bank; there, however, the similarities ended. It was, if possible, an even worse experience than the first. She was ushered into a floodlit hall, and then placed in a line-up with ninety-six other applicants, all of them females of less than twenty-five years of age. She was subsequently inspected from heel to teeth by each and every member of the bank�s board of directors. She did not stand a chance. At the end of the exercise the prettiest five were selected for instant employment.
When she returned, heartbroken, from that rejection, Ifedior Idoko decided to take matters into his own hands. He gave up his job in the carwash agency, and, carrying two hundred copies of her r�sum� in a shopping bag, he called on every friend, relative and passing acquaintance that he could think of. Finally, his eyes growing haggard at the thought of returning empty-handed, he took to handing out the folds of paper to strangers on the street.
This effort failing, and their cash reserves rapidly falling, they then decided that she should hit the streets. For the first two days she had gone out alone, with no results. Then, she had decided to carry along Malachi, hoping to generate pity amongst prospective employers. But only one day of trudging the streets with him was enough to convince her that she had bitten off more than she could chew. Thus, the now-jobless Ifedior Idoko was impressed into service as a baby handler.
Ifedior Idoko�s eyes were once again on the grey metal of the principal�s door. He tore them away with an effort. They promptly returned. He made a face at the door, rolling his eyes and sticking out his tongue until the sides of his mouth hurt from the strain.
�What are you doing?� Godiya asked, tugging at the undersides of her bra as she emerged from the open doorway. Ifedior Idoko shut his mouth with a snap that sent tears of pain rushing into his eyes. He blinked them away, seeking Godiya�s eyes. She met his gaze � he looked away first. The door shut with a click behind her.
�What were you doing?� Godiya asked again. Then, looking around: �Where is Malachi?�
�He�s with the secretary,� Ifedior Idoko said, rising.
�You left him alone with a perfect stranger?� Godiya hissed, bearing down on Ifedior Idoko with a slap in her eyes. �Can�t I trust you alone with him for one moment?�
�I�m sorry... I�m sorry...�
They found Malachi in a nest of gossiping women. He was fast asleep. Godiya introduced herself as a colleague; and, after some chitchat, bore her child away.
III
They came across the charred corpse of a thief on the route that they took home. It had been lying on the road for several days at least: the maggots in the eyeholes and mouth frothed in a feeding frenzy. The stench it gave off made Godiya gag and hide her eyes; Ifedior Idoko however, telling himself that it was the least that could be expected of an erstwhile medical student, refused to look away. He observed that the body was missing its forearms; they had been chopped off for fetish purposes he assumed. The sight lingered long afterwards as a bad taste in the roof of his mouth.
They arrived home tired and hungry, but elated. Godiya, at least, wore her satisfaction on her face. She unlocked the room door and threw it open; a wave of oven-heat rushed out to welcome them.
�Twelve minutes and seventeen seconds past four,� Godiya announced, glancing at her wrist. Then, with a deep intake of air, she hollered: �I have a job! I have a job! Praise the Lord, I have a job!�
Malachi whimpered in his sleep, and then opened his eyes and began to bawl. Flinging off her dress as she crossed the threshold, Godiya freed her breasts. She snatched Malachi from Ifedior Idoko�s arms and guided his mouth, already dribbling, to a nipple. For long seconds the only sound in the room was the smack of sucking lips.
�My baby, my baby,� Godiya muttered, rocking Malachi in her arms. She dropped down to the bed.
Ifedior Idoko took the three momentous steps that brought him directly before Godiya. She ignored him. He leaned over until his red-rimmed eyes were only inches from her averted face.
�What�s that?� he asked, his voice hoarse.
�What?� Godiya said, without turning her head.
�That!� Ifedior Idoko demanded, pointing. Godiya made no reply. She continued rocking her suckling child, and leaned over to nuzzle his hair.
�Is that a bite on your breast, Godiya?�
�So what if it is,� Godiya asked in an even tone, and crinkled her nose at her baby.
There was a shocked silence. And then Ifedior Idoko broke it. �You�you�!� he stuttered, �you�re so�so��
�Don�t spit,� Godiya said, a sneer on her lips.
�But how�how can�after all that I�ve done for you? How can...�
�Just shut up, hear? Shut up. What have you done for me?�
Malachi, disturbed at his meal, began to cry. Godiya stuffed her swollen nipple back in his greedily working mouth.
�What have you done for me, I say? You got me pregnant! Am I supposed to be grateful for that? For chrissakes you have no prospects! Your family has abandoned you! So what have you done for me?�
�Godiya!� Ifedior Idoko exclaimed, blocking his ears with both hands.
A red mist rose before Ifedior Idoko�s eyes. You told me it was safe, he screamed � but no words came to his rescue. I dropped out of school so you could finish. I broke with my family to stand by you. Godiya! He was suffused by a sudden sickness: he saw a life not his flash before his eyes, like a mirror vision.
Godiya made cooing sounds to her feeding child, her heaving chest betraying her emotion. Her mouth was set in a vindictive line.
Malachi�s eyes were squeezed shut. His cheeks pumped in time with his right hand, while his left, opening and closing in a fist, felt its way to his mother�s other breast. It grasped the nipple, fisting out the thick white liquid; then it trailed down to the teeth-marks, and caressed them...
Ifedior Idoko, wild-eyed and speechless, exploded into action. He seized Malachi by the offending arm and flung him aside. Before the scream of fury got past Godiya�s windpipe he had caught hold of it, and then began to throttle her, raising her slowly to her feet, then unto tiptoes, and then up off the floor. She beat against his arms and chest, her blows wild and ineffectual. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she gave out a bloody froth at the mouth. Then Malachi shattered the moment. He recovered from his surprise and, finding his breath, let rip with a squeal that sizzled his tonsils for life.
Ifedior Idoko let go of Godiya�s throat. She collapsed in heap, retching for air. He fell back against the wall, folded his arms bandolier-like across his chest, and sank down to his haunches.
After what seemed an eternity Godiya finally recovered her breath. She lifted her face from a pool of saliva and called to Ifedior Idoko, her voice a croak. A blood vessel was burst in her right eye. Getting no response from the hunched form, she raised herself to her knees with an effort, and, ignoring Malachi, crawled across to Ifedior Idoko. She reached for his head and guided it to her bosom. He lay there without protest, his shoulders drawn, like a broken-winged sparrow, mouthing incoherent apologies as his lemur eyes swept over her face.
�My baby, my baby,� Godiya crooned, �my big baaad baby...�
� A. Igoni Barrett
Reproduced with permission
