Chapter 3: No Dirty Linen for Outside

3

Odogwu Nnamdi would never disgrace me in public. He always knows how to control himself, so he suggested we go home. If there’s a problem, we handle it inside. That’s our silent agreement all these years.

In our marriage, we learned how to carry our wahala inside, behind closed doors. E no good to allow outsiders see your dirty linen. 'Na for house we go settle.' "She just be fresh graduate, just start work. Why you dey vex for her like that?"

Odogwu Nnamdi pulled me close.

His palm was warm against my arm, trying to calm me the way one would pacify a stubborn goat. "It’s the first time."

He looked confused. "What is?"

"After all these years, it’s the first time you let another woman sit in your front seat."

I watched his face for any sign—guilt, surprise, even small smile. He didn’t realize that was what I cared about.

Everybody in our circle knows how outstanding Odogwu Nnamdi is. Plenty women like am, but he always keeps himself clean. Temptation full everywhere, but he never let any woman get close.

Our friends' wives always said, 'Ehn, your husband fine o, but him head dey house.' I used to nod and smile, chest swelling with quiet pride.

Odogwu Nnamdi smiled small, ruffling my hair.

"So you dey jealous too."

He leaned over and kissed me, his nose brushing my cheek.

His lips lingered on my skin, the way you’d savour the last bit of sugarcane. "She’s just my worker. That’s all. Nothing will ever happen between us."

He held my face, looked into my eyes, and promised me in his calm, deep voice.

I saw the seriousness there, the unbreakable promise only a true Igbo man could give his wife.