Funke who seemed not unlike soured yellow pap packed in an old dish, was speechless as she stood right before the dude, Kunle who just heard the unspeakable.
“Did I hear you right?” Kunle inquired, still sitting in the three-in-one upholstery chair.
Funke became mute as she stared unfriendly at him.
Little did the television, which was being viewed by the lad, knew that it was now all alone; suffice it to assert that no one recognized its presence at the moment as it kept displaying the football match.
“Funke,” he called calmly. “Did you just say you are pregnant for me?”
“Of course nah.” she answered frankly, hastily folded her arms. “Didn’t you know when you did it?” she added in a jiffy, fixed her gaze on him.
“Something I did just once..?”
“Oh,” exclaimed Funke. “Just once?” she echoed.
“Of course,” quoth Kunle, furiously stood up. “Wasn’t it once?”
“I don’t care about how many times you did it.” she ranted. “All I know is that I am pregnant.” She supplemented, paused. “And the baby belongs to you.”
“You are not serious.” he said. “Are you?”
“Oh,” responded Funke. “You think I am joking?” she said, stood still. “Do I look like one who is cracking a joke?”
The last clause came as a shocker, thus he became more bemused as he kept foreseeing the dire consequences having seemingly absorbed the reality. “Oh my God…!” he shouted, frantically resumed his seat.
There was a brief silence.
“So,” he broke the muteness. “What do we do now?” he uttered, looking up to her.
“Now you have come back to your senses, right?” She rhetorically murmured.
How on earth would she talk to him in that manner if not that he had already sold the unreserved respect she had for his person by allowing his libido to yearn for her seeming-succulent endowments? Notwithstanding, he had no other option than to ignore her rudeness.
“You have not still answered my question.” He reminded her.
“What kind of silly question is that?”
“Of course,” she said. “Doesn’t it sound silly?” she added, paused. “When you were doing it, did you ask how we were going to do it?”
“You must abort that baby.” He pronounced with alacrity.
“What..!” she roared. “Me, abortion?’ she uttered, placing her right hand on her chest.
“That’s the only option.” He thought aloud.
“I can see, you are joking.” quoth Funke. “How dare you suggest abortion for me?”
“So, what’s your plan?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, stood still. “But all I know is that I am not committing any abortion.”
“So you want to keep the baby, right?’
“I wouldn’t blame you.” she continued, ignoring the question. “Because you don’t have a baby yet, so you wouldn’t know what it means to kill one.” She said, faced the other side.
“Funke…!” Kunle exclaimed at the top of his voice. “How dare you say such a thing?” he supplemented, stood up again.
She was quiet, still standing.
“Do you realise I am your sister’s husband…?”
“Sister’s husband my foot.” She interrupted, hurriedly turned her back on him and walked away.
“Funke, Funke!” he called as she walked out on him.
* * * * *
“Your sister is pregnant.” Kunle notified Kemi, facing the ceiling as they lay in their matrimonial bed in the early hours of Saturday.
This was coming after several failed persuasions targeted at making Funke terminate the baby she was carrying in her womb.
Kemi who was equally facing the Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) ceiling, hastily looked at Kunle on hearing the news that could best be described as a shocker. “What did you say?’ she verified hesitantly.
“I said, your sister is pregnant.” He reiterated, still facing up.
“Which of my sisters?” she enquired. “Bisi?” she supplemented, referring to her elder sister who got married recently, though marveled why her hubby should gather the news before her.
“No,” he responded. “I mean, Funke.”
“Funke what..?” she shouted, shocked, and slightly raised her head from the bed.
“Yes.” he said, nodding. “She is pregnant.”
Kemi couldn’t believe her ears. More confusedly, she could not fathom why her husband should be the one informing her on such development. “For who?” she managed to utter.
He was silent.
“I said,” quoth Kemi. “For who?”
“I think I am responsible.” He eventually confessed, still lay in the bed.
“You think you are what…? She roared, rose up.
“I am sorry.” quoth Kunle. “I am really sorry.” he added, paused. “It was all devil’s handiwork.”
“Enough,” Kemi urged fiercely, gesticulating. “Enough of this.” She warned, paused.
There was maximum silence.
“So, after all I did for you,” she broke the muteness. “You had the gut to cheat on me?” she said, paused. “And among all people, you chose Funke?”
“It’s not what you think.” He managed to utter.
“Spare me that.” She shouted frantically.
After all the hullabaloos, Kemi asked for a divorce, which was eventually granted by a court, thereby leaving Kunle and her younger sister to continue from where exactly they stopped. Prior to their divorce, when the news of the abominable act got to her parents, they felt like strangulating the parties involved, particularly Funke; Kunle’s aged parents equally felt same.
Months later, Kemi got married to another lad and she took in immediately after their wedding. Years on, the couple was blessed with children and was happily married.
On their part, Kunle and Funke who were forced to marry each other never had it so good. Funke had stillbirth in the pregnancy that prompted her elder sister’s departure; and after that, she never took in again. Kunle lost his job with the telecom firm and thereafter couldn’t secure any other meaningful job; needless to assert that his financial status was drastically reduced to zero.
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