ARÍRE (We Have Seen Goodness)

Pot That Will Eat Pepper, Its Eye Will See Hell.

I paced back and forth in the room, the sting of my slap to Aríre's cheek resounding in my mind. My anger had been justified, I told myself. Her words had cut deep, challenging my very manhood. Yet, a sliver of guilt gnawed at the edges of my conscience. I shouldn't have slapped her. The guilt began to rise, but I quickly masked it with my anger. She had called me less of a man, and no true man would tolerate that. I couldn't stay here, not right now. I needed to get away, clear my head. I picked up my phone and dialed Alice's number.

"Hello?" Alice's voice was warm, inviting.

"Alice, it's Ikenna. Can I come over? I need to talk."

There was a pause, then, "Of course. Come over."

I grabbed my keys and left the house without another word to Aríre. The drive to Alice's place felt longer than I wanted, the weight of my actions pressing down on me. When I arrived, she greeted me at the door, her body adorned with a red robe that plunged her breast out, her face plastered with a seductive smile.

"Come in," she said softly, stepping aside to let me enter.

I sank onto her couch, rubbing my temples. "I can't take it anymore, Alice. Everything is falling apart."

She sat beside me, her hand resting on my chest. "Tell me what's wrong this time."

"I will never father that bastard. Alice, five good years with her and nothing to show for it and now she wants me to father that bastard in her womb."

"I'm so sorry, Ikenna. I know how this must be incredibly hard for you."

"It is," I said, my voice breaking. "She keeps saying it's a gift from God, but all I see is a constant reminder of my inadequacy."

Alice shifted closer, her hand moving to my thigh. "You're not inadequate, Ikenna. You're a good man, a strong man. You deserve to be happy."

"I just want a child of my own. Have I asked God for too much?"

"You will have your own child, Ikenna."

I looked at her, my soul torn apart like yam pounded vigorously by the local buka women. 'I don't know what to do.'"

"You need someone who understands you, who can support you, someone whose land is fertile," she said, her voice low and soothing. "Someone who appreciates the man you are, someone like me."

She strapped me as she sat on my lap, her face in very close proximity to mine. "I will give you the child you have always wanted, Ikenna. Make you a true man, stand by you and respect you, but all these can be possible only if you allow me into your life. Ikenna, let me into your life." All these words were seductively whispered slowly into my ears.

In that moment, a profound realization settled over me, as if she was the answer to all my questions. What was the worst that could happen? Who would dare challenge my decisions or authority?

I pulled Alice closer, my hands circling her waist, feeling the soft jingle of the waist beads she wore. I kissed her deeply, our mouths merging. If Aríre couldn't give me a child, then perhaps it was time to consider another possibility. Alice was that possibility. After all, they say, "When the drumbeat changes, the dance must adapt."

I pressed my face into her breast, rough in my need, as if her body held the solution to my troubles. Alice moaned, pulling me closer until all I could breathe was the sweet scent of her skin.

Unlike the last time we got intimate, this time, I knew exactly what I was signing up for, conscious and alive as a real man. My body was awake and aroused with needs and desires. And with the way Alice moved her buttocks, I knew tonight was going to be a very long night.

They say, "When the moon is shining, the cripple becomes hungry for a walk." Tonight, I embraced my desires with clarity and purpose.

"Alice, will you be the mother of my children?"

Alice's POV

When Ikenna called and asked if he could come over, I knew my plans were unfolding as they should. He was mine, and she-the wife-was powerless to stop me. As I lay beside him, listening to the rhythm of his snores, a feeling of triumph surged within me. He was now within my grasp.

"Alice, will you be the mother of my children?" His words from last night were still as fresh in my mind as freshly baked Agege bread.

I watched him sleep, my thoughts a storm of calculated satisfaction. This was the moment I had been anticipating. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open slowly, and when he saw me, a flicker of something-acceptance, perhaps even desire-passed across his face.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep.

I smiled, a hint of satisfaction in my voice. "The father of my unborn child, my Odogwu."

He pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine, basking in my warmth like a lost man hungry for solace-and sex.

"You were all active yesterday," I teased, running a hand down his chest, "pounding on me hard like a real man."

His eyes darkened with a mix of pride and desire. "It felt good," he admitted, his voice low.

I let my fingers trace the contours of his muscles, feeding his ego. "You deserve to feel this way, Ikenna. You deserve to be happy."

He reached out, his hands roaming over my body, pulling me closer. "You make me feel alive, Alice."

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear. "This is just the beginning," I whispered. "We can have so much more together."

He kissed me, his touch hungry and desperate, and I reveled in the power I had over him. This was more than just a fleeting affair. This was my victory. I had him where I wanted him, and there was no turning back.

This was my moment, my opportunity. I would enter his home as his wife, and nothing, not even her, could stand in my way. They could call me all sorts of names-"homewrecker," "prostitute"-but it did not matter to me. I knew that the pot that would eat pepper must endure the fire, but I was undeterred. I had suffered enough, and all I wanted was a husband and a child of my own.

Was I asking for too much?

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