By Njoks

I heard Jimmy walk in at his usual time, 4am. All the lights in the house were out and I heard him fumbling around in the dark. I could just imagine the surprise on his face. This was not normal. Usually, I waited up for him, no matter how late he came home, and then cheerily greeted him even in the face of sullen disinterest. The kawa routine usually went like this:

"Hi honey," I would chirp as I reached up for a cursory kiss. "How was your day?"

To which I always got the monosyllabic, "Fine."

"Good. Are you hungry? Can I serve you some food?" I would then ask.

"No," was always the answer, but that had not stopped me for the last four weeks. After this, he always had a quick shower after which he slept in the spare bedroom. This time though, things were different.

I had had enough of his meanness. Earlier in the day, I had decided I was no longer going to take his crap. That night, I went to sleep and forfeited the kawa routine, which was why my hubby was fumbling in the dark. I was very awake but I pretended to be asleep.

He found the lights, walked to our bedroom, opened the door, then stealthily picked his night shorts and towel before going to the bathroom. He must have thought I would wake up with all the commotion, but I slept on.

Watch me sleep

At one point, he came to watch me sleep. I could just imagine his face, incredulous at the strange turn of events. I guess he assumed I was sick because he tried to wake me, but I just turned, like a person dead to the world, and continued sleeping. He got the hint. For the first time in four weeks, my hubby slept in our bed. "Strike one," I said to myself and smiled. It did not matter that he kept a huge, yawning space between us.

Nil by mouth

The next morning, I woke up early as usual, prepared his clothes and made his breakfast. Last night, I had resolved to give my hubby the ‘nil by mouth’ treatment for as long as it took until he spoke to me first and apologised for his appalling behaviour.

When he woke up about 45 minutes later, everything was laid out for him just the way he liked it, but I was missing in action. I left a note on the table advising him to lock the house behind him since I was out and I had with me my own set of keys. Just visualising his reaction as he read my note gave me goose bumps. The war was on.

I hadn’t run away from home. Instead, I had walked to our local church to seek divine strength for what I was about to do. Jimmy tried to call me, twice, but I refused to take his calls. After the second call, I sent him a message saying, "Am in a meeting. Will call you later." "What meeting?" was his reply. I didn’t respond. Strike two.

I had not called him back by 1pm and I guess he was worried because he called me again, this time three times, all of which I refused to answer. He then sent me a message. "Where are you? You are not picking my calls." Eventually I replied. "I’m in the salon. Will call you." Strike three.

Actually I was in the house, but I wanted him to sweat and enjoy a semblance of his own treatment towards me. Later that afternoon, I went to the shopping centre and bought myself chips, half chicken and couple of beers. That was going to be my supper for the evening. I was not planning to cook.

—njoks.desperate2008@gmail.com