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November 22nd , 2024

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KEN

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I can't tell you why I named my child Ken without telling you this story.

 

My husband was rich when he married me but he became broke after that. Don't tell me that I'm a jinx because I already know that I'm, however, let's face reality.

 

I wanted to go home, perhaps, permanently, if, only if, by the end of the day he got back on his feet after I left but my husband refused.

He said that if I was the poverty, then he would never complain about it. And yes he never complained but yet he refused to touch me. He married me a virgin and he was still yet to know if I was lying or not. 

 

I was heartbroken the day I told him about it and he said, "I'm leaving with you because I love you. I will try everything possible to get back on my feet but till then I'm not risking having a child in this circumstances. It's inhumane to bring a child in this kind of situation. I'm not saying that I don't want a child. 

 

"I'm saying that my children will not suffer. It's better they remain there until I get rich or they will never come out. But for the sex, wait till I finish this project in five days time, I will make it up to you." He smiled.

 

That day, I cooked one of the most savoury soup of my life. I cooked rubbish that day because my tongue failed me. I ate it like that, me and my husband. My husband enjoyed it. He licked his fingers. He washed the plates. He warmed the food when I suddenly developed sickness at night.

 

It was only in the morning when I ate the food that I discovered how it tasted. I couldn't eat it. I couldn't! The food wasn't tasteless. It tasted like poison cooked by me. But my husband enjoyed it last night. 

 

It was then that I discovered that my husband had lost the will to live. I discovered that he doesn't feel like living. I discovered that the situation that I found myself yesterday was what my husband had been passing through for months now. He just existed. 

 

Ooooh, God! I cried. I socked my clothe sleeves with tears.

 

By the time that I stopped crying, I had already passed the gate of my rich brother-in-law's house and was already knocking on the door.

Ken, my brother-in-law, was very rich. I had asked my husband to ask help from him but he refused. He said over his dead body. 

 

This was a brother he sponsored abroad. A brother he groomed to be a better man. Now, he was rich and when my husband had a problem, he called him and he said that he was busy that he should call later. My husband has that pride because he never called again. And his brother, also, didn't favour him a call up till this moment.

 

Ken was wearing a suit when he opened the door. He smiled at me and gestured for me to come inside. This was my first time in entering this house and I can't help but admire the house in those fleeting moment of awkward silence.

 

As soon as I entered, a chill breeze washed down my body and I heard the sound of my enthusiastic younger sister. "Air conditioner is extraordinary!"

 

The settee was just too soft. The windows, the portière, the ceiling which was designed to look like eight planet in the sky; all of them look so extraordinary.

 

But when I perused at the colours and design, I realized that the the house was built by a nouveau riche who was so naive in design and was as well, so stupid to build it to his taste.

 

"What would you like to have?" Ken asked me but I guess that it wasn't a question because before I opened my mouth, he'd gone to his fridge and brought out a drink. He was so considerate because he brought out a malt instead of an alcoholic drink.

 

"Please, I'm not here to drink," I said, "I'm here to ask of a favour."

 

"Don't worry. Drink first." He smiled and sat down.

 

"Please, first thing first. How can I drink when I have a problem eating me up. The least I could do now was to drink when I don't even know if you will help me."

 

Ken smiled again. It's tame. It's contagious. 

 

"What if I told you that if you drink this malt, then, I will do what ever you want me to do."

Before he finished that sentence I have already uncorked the malt with my teeth and was drinking it. But let me admit it. The malt tasted strange but I continued to take gulp after gulp until it finished.

 

I hit the bottom of the bottle lightly, but loud, on the table to indicate my victory but my eyes got blurry. The bottle slipped from my grasp and shattered on the floor. 

 

Before I closed my eyes, I saw Ken smile at me.

 

When I woke up and was lying on Ken's bed I knew that my virginity had become a past tense. But I was still surprised when I rested my foot on the floor and fell down. All my legs were shaking. I was crying. I was broken. I looked at myself but all my clothes are still as if they wasn't removed. As if what they're covering hadn't been pierced. 

 

I stood up and went to the parlour. Ken wasn't there. I searched all the room but I couldn't see Ken. Where is he? He raped me and ran away or what. I don't even feel like admiring the house. Not even the paper on the table.

 

As I went home that day, I knew that I can't live with this guilt. I knew that I will not live. I will die. I can't live with this. I knew that I can't stand the expression on my husband's face when he finds out that I was no longer a virgin.

 

It's strange. The timing. The day. The same hour that I lost my virginity was the hour that my husband became hungry for a sëx. 

 

As soon as I entered inside our house, my husband came and hugged me. As I tried to push him, he kissed me and all my struggle stopped. I yielded to him. That day, my husband inserted all his anger on the sëx and drew all my strength from me. I was already feeling like dying when my husband finally became tired.

 

I was already prepared for the grimacing which would soon be on my husband's face when I looked at him and saw him smiling and looking in-between my legs. I followed the trace of his eyes and saw blood on the duvet. 

 

I was so confused. I thought Ken has taken my virginity. 

 

It was in the following morning that Ken's voice, from that morning after I drank that malt, rang on my ears. "I'm not going to take advantage of you. Church girl. I just don't want you to ask me of help and then follow your husband to say that I'm wicked, because I won't help you.

 

"The truth is that before I hung up your husband's call that day, I told him to give me time. I just want to tell you that it's now very close. And everything will belong to him. I'm just angry with him because he made me to donate my kidney to him but now my only kidney is having problem. 

 

"I'm not blaming him for it but I don't know who else to blame knowing fully well that I will dïe soon; tomorrow to be precise. Just tell my brother that all my house and everything that I owns will belong to him when I dïe. I don't hate him. I love him. I left a document on the table. Please take it and give it to him.

 

"In my next world, I pray that he will still be my brother. But he should by then, learn how to take care of his kidney because if it fails him again, I will still donate mine. I will miss everyone of you but this is my destiny. Till we meet again."

 

If only I was sober, I would've heard him correctly. Tears streamed down from my eyes.

 

The only thing that made me to remember this was because Ken died that morning. Such is life!

 

Please follow up for more ? ©? Ken Walker (Twisting Monarch) ™?

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Daniel Teye Ayertey

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