Chapter One

“Do you think you're beautiful?” His voice dripped with contempt. The kitchen was brightly lit, but with the door half closed, it cast shadows on the wall. “I can always leave you and marry other women. You're nothing, you're not even useful to me,” said the man who sat in the house every day of his life for several years straight, wallowing in his bitterness while waiting for a woman to feed him while barely contributing anything towards her or her children's well-being.

Severally, he had taken debts in her name because his income did not come until the year ended, whereas she earned a monthly salary. He cornered her mother in such a way she could not refuse not to take the loans on her bank. Her income was monthly after all and the deductions would not mean much but if he were to place his property in Ikoyi, the one he earned yearly from as collateral, or the house they currently lived, then they would all be doomed. Her mother would try to convince him because he could definitely afford to pay those loans back at the end of the year but after all, he was her head. She had to be a good little wife and stop her argument.

And after he had taken the loans, he would refuse to pay it back because he had done it all;  finished with his responsibilities because her children were no longer his problem. She was indebted to him for that. For paying their bills for a long time, she had to be his slave because he might have as well chosen not to do it. Like he had chosen not to do it anymore. Even with the striking resemblance in all five of them, he did not believe they were his other than the last child— the one who was a boy. The one who would not grow up to be useless.

“I see beautiful women anytime I go out but I choose to keep myself holy because of the spirit of God in me,” he hissed. “And you're here disobeying me when I give you instructions. You don't know I'm your head?”

Ireti always realized from her teenage and youth days that this was the reason Christians were so bitter. Wanting things in the world but denying themselves. Some things she never understood however were:

Were you really Christian if you wanted to be in the world?

Were you keeping yourself from sin because people knew you as a Christian and you were scared of judgment from them, or because you feared God.

Were you keeping yourself from sin because you wanted to?

She shook her head, wanting to scream at him but she did not have anywhere to go if she did. Sometimes it was more than having nowhere to go. It was the fear of his fury. Fear of her father whipping out his belt harshly on her and slamming her head into the wall because she was meant to be submissive as a woman.

She was not meant to utter anything to go against his wishes.

It had happened too many times when she made that mistake.

Her tears had dried up several years ago. She could only sit in silence in the living room wishing her mom would stand up against him, then feel guilty because she herself could not.

"How many times have I told you not to bring your friends into my house?" He said  coming closer, towering over her. Ireti's mom seemed to cower, lowering her eyes but Ireti knew it was an act. Her mom would only do that and then keep quiet to get him off her back.

The silence also usually frustrated him because there was no way for him to twist her words to use it against her. There was nothing for him to remember the next time they had an argument.

No room for 'That's how the other day, you said...'

"Especially that wayward woman. She has two children but no husband. Where did the children come from?"

She cocked her head at him, expecting to see unveiled disgust whenever he spoke of Aunty Adewumi— her mom's friend, but there was none of that. All she could see was frustration whenever he complained about her.

Not just her, but whenever he complained about other women around their mom, or the set of girls they were neighbors with. The girls who often wore cheap and revealing bodycon outfits, entering a different car each night.

Ireti would wonder where the frustration came from, and whenever he uttered the words— "They just want to break your home because they are jealous you still have a husband," like he just did, she would smile to herself and say ah because she would be reminded where the frustration came from.

She always knew he wanted them for himself and the only thing stopping him was not his Christianity. It was the pride he had in having something to hold against her mom. Not having his fidelity questioned by her and other people.

Sometimes, she wondered if he had ever had an affair far away from home where no one knew who he was or about his faith.

"You don't even know the spiritual implications of bringing that woman into my house," he continued to rant on. "Very indecent woman. I've had spiritual battles whenever she comes here and I've warned you to stop bringing her to the house."

"Why—" Ireti's mom pinched her to stop her from talking. She had been this close to asking her father why he pretended to like Aunty Adewumi in her presence but never failed to shame her behind her back. She had been this close to asking him why he never told the woman to her face not to step into his house again.

"That woman is very evil. Only God knows what she did to whatever man she had children with that he left her with," he scoffed. "You don't even know how to choose the right people to move with."

"All your friends, it's either their husbands are dead, or they don't have one," he screamed. "Don't you know they are jealous of your happy home? They are constantly battling me spiritually to end me so you can be miserable like them."

Ireti snorted and began to laugh silently, thanking God for allowing phcn to cut the power just then.

Happy home? Wasn't her mom miserable enough?

That was the funniest statement she had heard in her seventeen years of living life. She honestly pitied anyone who was jealous of her parents marriage.

"I will divorce you if you're not careful!" He left the kitchen counter and picked up a plaque her sister had earned, throwing it against the wall. "Better don't push me to do what I'm not meant to do. Better follow your Bible! Obey me whenever I give you instructions."

He had done it to get a reaction, but there was none. Not even a flinch from her.

Ireti wondered how long it was going to take this time around. How long he would prod and poke for a reaction from their mom.

She had to give her mother credit for this though, because as much as she hated it— she had gotten her father's anger. If she were her mom, she would have given it back to him hotter.

She was never one to keep her cool whenever men dared to cross her, especially with the kind of things her father was saying. She would have said ten times worse, n o matter how much she tried to keep her cool simply because he was a man.

Sure, if it were a fellow woman she'd choose to shake her head and ignore but she would never, ever try to soothe the ego of a man.