Efe could not also believe that he had to eat rice pudding, but to his surprise the meal tasted great. Not that he had doubted Edegbe's culinary skills, but rice cooked to a pulp and eaten as eba was not something he ate everyday. He ate two whole lot of the doughy meal and belched to satisfaction.
Victor who had finished most of the food, who silently prayed that neither Edegbe nor Efe would eat, and gently grumbled when Efe decided to eat, stood up to leave.
"You're well fed," Efe teased him. "You needed to see the way you rushed the food."
Victor wanted to smile and say it was a privilege, would have smiled and said it was a privilege if Edegbe had made the statement, but he wouldn't do that to somebody at the same hierarchical level as he was. He turned to Edegbe, remembering what had transpired the night before. "I want to have a word with you, sah." Then he waited for the two men to raise their heads at him in full attention before adding, "In private."
"What do you want to say in private that you can't say here?" Edegbe asked, more annoyed than curious.
"I just want to report something to you."
The two men stared at each, already aware of what the mouse wanted to tattletale about. Efe, ever dutiful, excused himself with a smirk playing on his face.
"So, what is it?"
"Yesterday when Efe left, I found it suspicious that he went out, I even wondered why you allowed him. Sah, you should not give him so much freedom, that's the reason why he did what he did yesterday."
"Are you getting straight to the point or not?"
Lowering his voice he said, "Last night while you must have been sleeping, Efe brought girls to your house, two girls."
Edegbe who had decided to play along and give the man the satisfaction of his expected reaction shone his eyes in a feigned disbelief and shouted, "What?!"
Victor hid his contentment in a shrug. "I barely believed it myself, but I opened the gate, I know what I saw. Two girls," he raised his first two digits as though doing so would make Edegbe realize the gravitas of the offence. "He sneaked them out of the house this morning by five so you won't know."
Edegbe covered his face. "Oh my God."
"This is how people betray people sah, it's a good thing I saw him. I don't know if he thinks I won't tell you."
He sprang to his feet, screeching the chair in the process. "Efe!"
The man who had overheard the conversation, removed the smile from his face and opened the door. He had heard enough to understand what his friend wanted to do. "Sir?"
"What is this nonsense I hear about you bringing prostitutes to my house, is this how you choose to repay me?"
Efe looked at Victor, his face hurt from the betrayal. "Sorry, sir, it was a moment of unthought carnal hunger."
"And two women satiates your hunger? Two?"
"But doesn't most of our food go in twos? Rice and stew, eba and soup, beans and yam."
"Then man and woman, that's also in twos. A man and two women goes in threes, it breaks the rule."
"Sorry sir, next time I'll bring just one lady."
Victor raised his head up, was Efe crazy?
"So, did you satiate your hunger last night?" Edegbe asked.
He nodded. "The food was worth the pay."
Victor looked at the both of them, wondering what direction the query had gone.
"I hope you did not wreck my bed?"
"I didn't use the bed, sir. I'm not a huge fan of face to face, I love taking things from behind. It's easier that way, the view is nice."
"It is more presentable from behind."
Then they burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter and Victor concluded that along the way either he had gone mad or they had.
"There," Edegbe said to him, "I reprimanded him, he won't do it again. If you don't have any other thing to report you can leave." Victor had started to leave when he called him back. "Why do you call him by his name?"
"Sah?"
"Why do you call him by his name? You were not this dull reporting him."
Loss for word, he entwined his fingers. They were both employees, weren't they? Why should Efe have a preference he did not have?
"He's Sir to you too," Edegbe said, "Do you know that I can fire you if he tells me to? Anybody that has the power to take from you your source of income should be called with an honorific added to his name. Is that clear?"
His response, "Yes, Sah", was barely audible.
"I didn't mind," Efe said after he had left.
"I do. Anybody that works with or for me must learn how to respect you."
"If I didn't know better I'ld've say you loved me."
Edegbe cleared the plates from the table. "Do we do the laundry now or when we come back?"
Efe let an exasperated sigh. "Why not employ a lady to do these petty chores?"
"So you can sleep with her."
"That also included. See, it's frustrating that a wealthy man like yourself loves frugality to the point where you seem poor."
"We've been down this path before and neither of us liked where it ended," he reminded.
Defeatedly he said, "Let's do it in the evening." He tapped his stomach, "I don't think I can crouch with this and the sun will be too hot by the time we get back. Better still, we could drop the clothes at a laundry center and—"
Edegbe waved his hands. "Been there, done that, didn't like it."
Efe did not like that despite how much money they had they still bothered themselves with such petty tasks. His memory about their broke days were still intact, they only washed clothes when it rained to save money and since it rained, they would have to wait till the next day to sun dry the clothes. Sometimes the sun did not come out the next day, and so their clothes would have a foul smell when sun dried days later. He remembered thinking how easy it would be to have a washing machine, and constant water, and constant power supply. At night when they laid side by side on their small bed, he would tell Edegbe about his thoughts and the latter would humour him by listening. Sometimes he talked until they fell asleep after eating hunger for dinner either because there was no food, or they were too tired to cook. He would also fantasize about foods and chefs and lots of money. And now that he fantasy became a reality, he hated that he still had to wash his clothes. Yes, he could give his to a laundry service, but Edegbe would not like it, seeing that he had a sense of brothership and loved togetherness. In sincerity, them doing the laundry was fun, what wasn't fun was his thinking about it.
The agriculturalist was a sturdy man, his chin was filled with thick dark beard. He spoke an Hausa accent with the same thickness, and sometimes Edegbe wasn't sure he heard well. The chief farmer was a lean and short. And there was a fancy to his height in the way he moved as he showed them what rice they would plant; the short rice that became sticky when cooked for few minutes, and swelled to fill the pot. He was a learned man in the field, a man whose knowledge could be felt in the way he talked. And so Edegbe knew he was leaving his business in good hands. He would not need to go to the farm everyday, he loved the free time.
"Those people knows what they are doing," he told Efe later that evening as they sat down to wash, two basins of water between them, and a pile of clothes by their side.
"They looked like they do," he agreed, then he turned to the gate. "See the look Victor is giving us, he must think we're mad. I don't blame him, even I think we're mad." He squeezed the cloth he was holding and dropped it into the second basin with a force, so that the water would splash on Edegbe. He laughed.
"What is wrong with you?" Edegbe asked but dropped his own cloth so the water would splash on him.
"What are we doing now?" Efe laughed at his wet shirt. "Even children these days don't play like this."
"The sun will set soon," Edegbe gestured to the horizon, "The clothes needs to be dried before we bring them inside. Stop washing like—" The bell sound interrupted him. "I wonder who that is."
It was Alhaji, dressed in a regular fulani attire. He was not larger than life, neither did he have a repealing aura, but when one saw him, one knew to give way.
"I wonder what he's going to think of this. Ah, I'm so embarrassed." Efe brought his head down.
"You're embarrassed you're washing your own clothes? What even angers me is that we're going to suspend this for a while and night will fall soon. Who does he think he is, deciding to visit whenever he likes?"
"How about we suspend it for forever and just give a dry cleaner our clothes?"
"Gentlemen," Alhaji greeted them. "What a sight." He said looking at their clothes. "Did I crash into your time?"
"Unfortunately, you did. I think it would be better if you informed us before hand whenever you want to visit, so it doesn't clash with our schedule." Edegbe did not have a placating smile on his face.
And Alhaji did not take any offence. "I apologize, I would have been more thoughtful."
"I will finish up here, sir," Efe said, wanting to give the men space.
"Kai, no. I don't want to think you had to leave what you're doing because of me. Just tell one of your servants to bring a seat."
Efe brought the seat. "Is there anything you would like to drink?"
Alhaji shook his head. "Thank you. Don't you have servants who do that for you?" He asked Edegbe who continued washing.
"I have free time. If I have servants who do everything for me what do I do with my free time?" Edegbe replied.
"You go to parties." He gave him an invitation card. "Prominent people will be there."
Edegbe cleaned his hands with a dry cloth to take the card. "A party?"
"You sound surprised. This is Unguwan Rimi, what will Unguwan Rimi will be like without the parties?"
"I don't think I can make it."
"You said you have a lot of free time."
"To wash."
Alhaji laughed. "I am going to tell you something and what I'm going to tell you will change your mind. You want to try?"
Curious, Edegbe nodded.
"Yasmin made a bet on you."
Edegbe paused what he was doing.
"She told the group that you're just a decent rich man, who was able to afford this nice house out of sheer luck. She said you wasted her time bargaining for the land she sold to you, said you don't even know the meaning of your tribal name, and that you came by bus."
Edegbe freed the clothes from his hands. "What in the world is wrong with that woman?"
"And then she said you're not going to come to the party since you'll feel inferior about being the least in the party. She placed a bet of one million on that."
"One million? Is she crazy?" Did the woman think money fell on trees to make such a bet? Who was more stupid, him who was frugal with his money or she who was extravagant?
"Personally, I would like you to come. You see, we don't get so many southerners very often and you seem like a sensible one. Whether you're washing your clothes because you have free time or because you don't have the money to hire a servant does not concern me, I believe everybody is rich except those that comes to my gate to beg." Alhaji got up.
"That woman, Yasmin or whatever her name is, is out of her senses."
Alhaji smiled. "You should come and prove it." He turned to leave.
Efe waited until the man was out if sight before asking. "Did you seriously tell her we came by bus?"
"It was a slip of a tongue. Read my lips; slip of a tongue."
He threw the clothes into the water so that it would splash on him. "You." A splash. "Keep." A splash. "Embarrassing." A splash. "Me." Another splash. "Every single time." Multiple splashes. By the time he was done both him and Edegbe had water on their clothes.
But Edegbe's mind was occupied by the audacity of the woman, what was her deal with him? He realized he made a mistake calling her. He would have called Mr. Abdullahi, he would have been thrilled of having his land bought by him even after negotiations. What business person doesn't negotiate? A business person that has a million naira to waste on a stupid bet, he answered. What? She had connections? If she would badmouth him to her connections, what use was it to him? He could still remember the days he could not boost of a ten thousand, and so throwing away a million for a stupid reason was in itself an obnoxiousness in the company of senselessness. And because she was stupid and because he wanted to show her how stupid she was, he went to the party.
Having a party in a grand hotel where people who did not know each other met was different from having a party in a neighbour's house filled with soon to be familiar people. The competition was more, the desire to feel in choking, like a thick twine rope around the neck.
Most of the guests were dressed in their tribal attire. And there was something about scene, the moving of men and women with glasses in their hands, the small clustering of men and women talking, some laughing, sharing pleasantries, some creating acquaintanceship, that made Edegbe think of cultural consciousness. Maybe it was because of the dressing. He had always thought cultural consciousness began with tribal names, but the view before him begat a nuanced understanding, it began with the dressing, with the gestures; the way they bowed and bent to greet one another, and then with the food. Edegbe did not see the need to belong in them, they were having what could be termed a foreign idea of a party, foreign drink with ice, but they did so in the consciousness that they were not foreigners, that they did not need to wear a suit, because wearing a suit did not identify them. Suddenly he felt out of place.
He spotted Mrs. Yasmin in a group of some people. He recognized her because of the wrapper she wore. He did not know why he hadn't observed it sooner, but she always was wearing a wrapper, not the beautiful well tailored gown other women wore, nor the traditional muslim gown, but a wrapper. A hijab to her head and a wrapper around her chest. It was not so much that it did not suit her, but Edegbe wondered why.
From where she stood she shot him a questioning look, the kind of look that pierced through you and made you conscious. Edegbe did not know if he was conscious or not, but he knew at that moment, in the midst of every other person, only the both of them existed.