Chapter 2

Kamsi sat up on the bed and crossed her legs yoga style while she thought of other things to occupy her time rather than sleeping. She was still in her favorite pink satin nightwear, not showered yet. 

The cramps she had been experiencing before she slept had subsided a little. The pangs still shot up from time to time but not anything that she could not manage.

It was a Monday. Her husband had gone to work, same as most people but she was at home. After two years and more she was still getting the hang of being a full time house wife. 

The idea of having a job had posed as no problem till after her marriage when Mark realized that her work was inconvenient based on distance and he asked her to quit with the promise of a better job. Her former job had nothing to do with the fine arts she studied in school but she loved it. It kept her busy. 

The promise of a new job became a politician's manifesto; it was never fulfilled. She became uncomfortable and troubled. When she broached the topic, Mark wisely chose diplomacy to remind her that he earned enough from the company where he worked to sustain the family.

Kamsi suddenly bolted out from the bed, finally figuring out what she was going to do. She slipped her feet into white flip-flops and rushed out of the room. She descended the stairs with her hand on the railing, hopping down each step like a little child.

They were yet to set up a sprinkler system. She watered the plants in the mornings and in the evenings as there was no rain in that time of the year. She had forgotten to do that in the morning so she carried the watering bucket from the store and went out to the garden. 

It was a little garden set just outside their kitchen. There were vegetables which did not produce much that year. They also had pepper, curry and scent leaves. She moved to the tap that was fixed into the fence very close to the garden . She fetched water and began to water the plants under the sun. It was noon and she was expecting her husband home anytime so her calculation was right; watering the garden was enough to pass time before Mark returned. 

Close to the wall, under a zinc shade was a wooden cage that was enough to house three fowls comfortably and it was at that time empty. Kamsi sat on it without putting all her weight on it. She felt drained and weak to the legs as if she ran a race. 

She sat on the cage for a while before picking the bucket she came out with and made her way back inside where she now sat on a white plastic seat in the kitchen, stretching out her legs. 

In the fridge, there was tinned milk , different cans of drinks arranged there. Without having a hard time deciding, she picked a tin of milk and malt and missed in a cup then dawned it down to regain her strength. As a child, she had loved that mixture. She had even feigned weakness at times just so her step mother would give it. She later started grinding vegetable leaves to add to the drink which was not what little Kamsi wanted at that time. That was the only thing that turned her away from the mixture at a young age.

She peeled her clothes in the room ready to shower. It was then her phone's ringtone like a loud church bell began to sound, 

Bongbong Bongbong

At the sound of her familiar ringtone that sounded like church bells, she picked the phone and looked at the caller. It was her sister-in-law. 

"My baby," Michelle called her immediately. 

She allowed herself to blush by the endearment her sister in-law always used on her. 

"Michy how are you doing and your baby?" she asked. She still was not used to calling her Munachi which was what the whole family called her. 

"I'm good and Junior is fine."

"Anything on board? " she asked

"Yes baby! Our child dedication is this Sunday. It's in the village. So let your husband know."

"Why is it in the village again? "

"That was how Ella's own was too. It allows the villagers to attend."

Without understanding why it was so important for the villagers to be present in the child's dedication, Kamsi nodded. "Okay."

"You are always in the house na so new gist abi or has your pastor's wife stopped terrorizing you people with her makeup?"

Kamsi laughed. Her pastor's wife was known for her exceptional makeup. She was a topic of gossip in the whole church but the woman did not seem to mind and her husband appeared to love it also; before he preached any sunday he would introduce the wife attracting attention to the woman's face which was always a playful canvas. 

She went in to bathe after the call. Still feeling weak, she sat in the bathtub as she sponged herself. The weakness could be warning signs of her turn of Malaria. Her husband had just finished taking drugs for malaria two weeks earlier. She presumed It was then her turn.

She was stepping out from the bathroom when the doorbell rang. Hurriedly she threw on Mark's polo and shorts. The short needed a belt but she just held it with her hands as she hurried downstairs. She knew it was her husband and she was not disappointed as she opened the door. 

"Hey," she said.

She stood on tip toe and pecked his lips as he came in carrying his suitcase. His eyes scanned her body. 

"I just bought those clothes, " he said. 

"How was work today? " she asked, going in before him. 

"Just the usual," he said and started laughing. 

She turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow still holding her shorts. 

He still could not control his laughter seeing her lithe body in his oversized shorts. "You need a belt, if you are going to wear that." 

"I know, " she replied and began matching up the stairs. 

He sauntered after her. "How is your stomach? "

"The pain has reduced. "

"Is it your period ?"

She wanted to reply when she realized that her period had not visited for some time. 

She finally gave a half shrug. "It could be. "  

She pulled off the short in the room and didn't bother wearing another short. Her husband was way taller than her and his polos qualified for gowns on her.

Mark stood in front of the wardrobe and unbuttoned his shirt. " Michelle's child dedication is on Sunday. "

"I know. We spoke. "

"How could I forget that the both of you talk 24/7," he said as he bent to remove his shoes. 

She stood up from the bed and moved to the door. "What would you like to eat? "

"I ate on my way home," he replied. 

Kamsi could not hide her shock that he kept doing the same thing; messing with her meal plans. She walked closer to him, 

"Why would you eat outside? " 

"Not now honey. I will eat in the night," he dismissed her as he arranged his dirty clothes on the sofa. 

He walked into the bathroom, leaving Kamsi staring after him until he closed the door. 

She followed him and banged on the bathroom door then opened it. "You know very well that I make plans for lunch and when you eat out, it ruins it. " 

"Please let me come out from the bathroom, " Mark pleaded.

She banged the door and went down stairs. There were two different containers of leftover soup in the fridge that had stayed longer than it should. She made up her mind not to cook another soup until the leftover soup had been used because she was totally against wasting soup.