Philip leaned forward and less deliberately put his forearm around her waist and then his left arm over her shoulder and around her neck. Zainab completed the lock with her right hand around his back. Energy rushed through him. She moaned. Five seconds later Zainab pulled back slowly. Soon their bodily contact was merely at the fingers.
"Thanks" Zainab whispered.
"Welcome"
"I really needed a hug"
"OK"
She quickly pulled further away and walked briskly back to her room and shut the door. Philip stood a while, his head a bit clearer now. He started trying to explain to himself what had just happened. He stood akimbo for a few seconds and then decided he wanted to go visit Abena.
Minutes later he passed by her shut door and called out "I will be back!". She was not his wife! He didn't have to tell her where he was going. She did not respond. Behind the doors she sat up on her bed, leaning against an upright pillow, knees curled up to her bare chest, forearms around her sheens, under the blanket, naked!
The drive was a thoughtful one. It was difficult to understand what was happening to him. he could not quite understand how he got to this point. What point? After all, he had not done anything wrong. He merely hugged his guest. But why did he hug her? Does there have to be a reason for everything? The ten-minute drive had been amplified by Saturday evening traffic giving Philip ample time to think. The ease with which it was possible to switch from a spiritual session on the phone to a sudden rush of carnal desire made it easy for him to sympathize with well-known ministers whose sexual scandals he had heard of - both factual and false. A fall was much easier than he had earlier thought when he was protected by the prying eyes of family and friends who knew he was a Christian. The walls of protection had been lifted with his relocation to Accra and the substance of his inner being was being tested. The verse flashed in his mind again.
"You were perfect in your ways from the day that you were created, until iniquity was found in you."
He recalled the description his pastor back in Lagos had given to that word 'iniquity'. A flaw in the person's being. A flaw that manifests as a series of sins when given the opportunity. A flaw that can be hidden for ages until the opportunity is given for a full expression. A flaw that cannot be hidden forever.
Philip made the last left turn into Abena's street and gradually came to a halt in front of a rusty, old red gate left ajar. It never ceased to amaze him how little attention most Ghanaians in middle class neighbourhoods paid to basic security. They definitely were not used to robbery incidents and probably were not prepared for the frequent incidents of burglaries and armed robberies in the few years before and up till then. Some claimed that the crime rate increased in Accra as Nigerians moved into Ghana in their droves looking for business and stable Universities. Nigerians!
After collecting his thoughts, Philip stepped out of the car and shut it carefully, still looking sombre from deep thoughts. he walked through the gate. The main house was an old house, possibly built as far back as the sixties. He glanced at the porch and said hello to three women sitting on plastic chairs chatting pleasantly. he did his best to smile. He walked towards the back of the house. Abena lived in what some would call the Boys' Quarters behind the main building. It was a little more modern having been built much more recently when the landlady wanted to make better use of the land after her husband's death. The cream coloured walls still looked acceptably fresh.
The entire structure was three rooms or better put three apartments since each front door led into an area complete with a living room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom for each occupant. Philip went around and knocked on the middle room, Abena's.
"Heiiii... my boyfriend that divorced me!" She exclaimed while unlocking the door. She had seen him through the window.
Philip simply laughed. He never responded to gestures from ladies suggesting intimacy even though he did not reject them explicitly either. he actually enjoyed such affection.
"How are you?" Abena continued.
"I am fine, Abena."
"Please come in"
She was all smiles and visibly excited at seeing him. She never hugged him though, hardly even touched him. Philip perceived her as considering him a good friend and he was impressed with her self-control and sense of emotional togetherness. He could hardly see through her, though at some subtle moments like the first time he took her picture, he had noticed what seemed to be intense blushes hidden under a serious look. He was not quite sure what to do with all that. His problem with her was that while she was very moral and sound in her way of life, she never went to church except on invitation or for some special events. On his part he had hardly ever explicitly discussed the gospel with her except for a certain book he had given her to read. She seemed very unconcerned about spiritual things.
Philip walked into the hall as the typical Ghanaian would call it and suddenly felt a chill. he looked up towards the source.
"Big girl... you have bought an air conditioner"
"Hahaha... instalment payment o. Someone came around the office selling electronics on hire purchase and I took advantage"
"I see. Good for you." Philip sank into a chair and Abena on another. His nose came alive at the aroma of jollof rice, but he did not comment on it.
"So, who has been keeping you away from me? Your new guest?"
"Oh. Abena. Naaa... "
Philip's nose could have grown longer at that moment. It was obvious Zainab had his exclusive attention for the past two weeks except when he ran into Helen at the office.
"How is work?"
"Great. Yours?"
"Well... hmmm... it is there o. Boring but what can we do? If you see any opportunities for me, please tell me ooo."
"All that money you are making, and you want to move..."
"it is not just about money, Philip. Do you know how long I have been a teller? Four years... I need a change. Even if it is within the bank"
Philip always admired Abena's sense of direction in life. She had done so well for herself. Her independence was inspiring. She had learnt to take care of herself quite early. Her parents had passed, and she was an only child, raised by Uncles and Aunts and Grandmas. That must be where she got all that emotional strength. He also loved the fact that he could sit with her for hours alone and not be erotically aroused. The friendship seemed so pure.
"Hope you will have some jollof?" Abena asked.
"Of course. What bachelor would refuse a good meal?"
They laughed. It was so easy to make Abena laugh, so natural. Eating together had become normal for them over the previous few months even on Saturday Mornings when Philip finished from a certain early morning prayer meeting near her place.
"It smells good" Philip continued. They exchanged smiles for a few seconds before Abena turned her attention to the TV. She always watched the evening news and was up to date, another attraction for Philip.
"Have you heard, they are going to build an interchange at Kwame Nkrumah Circle o"
"Oh yeah... I overheard it at the office."
"It will make things so much easier. At least I wouldn't have to wake up so early and pass the long route through Kokomlemle..."
"Yeah. I am sure by the time it is done like fifteen minutes will get you to North Ridge"
"In fact. It is a good move, but I learnt the government borrowed the money o"
"Really? From who?"
"Who else? IMF. With all their unbearable conditions..."
"Well as long as the money is used to do what they borrowed it for. back in Nigeria, like three quarters of it would be going to Switzerland!"
"Switzerland?"
Abena stared at Philip. Anything that sounded like new knowledge always caught her attention.
"Yes. Most corrupt government officials in Nigeria are known to stack stolen money away in Swiss bank accounts."
"And the whites don't say anything?"
"What are they going to say? You work in a bank. Do
you ask your customers how they got their money before accepting deposits?"
"Oh no Philip but it's not the same!"
Philip just laughed. Abena sprang up. "Lemme check the rice”. Philip followed her with his eyes. She was fascinating. An intellectually stimulating discussion with an intelligent lady always made a strong impression on him. He could talk on and on with Abena and it seemed there were few women like her in his life possibly because he never went looking for them, they either came to him, ran into him or were introduced to him. He set his eyes back on the TV and partially listened as Abena talked about her cooking"
"As if I knew you were coming... I would not have been able to finish this food"
"How different is Nigerian rice to Ghanaian rice?"
"I can imagine when last you ate a great meal like this... hahaha"
She never seemed to run out of things to say but she was not irksome, it was fun listening to her. She seemed always in control, no emotional expressions were in excess.
Dinner was served, and they ate together like brother and sister amidst laughter and friendly disputes on current affairs and ideologies. Soon more than two hours had passed but it seemed like a few minutes. Philip asked to take his leave and Abena agreed without hesitation. It was so difficult to tell whether she wanted him to stay a little longer. Philip just could not tell. On the way out, they said hello to the lone woman at the veranda on the main house. Abena said hello and just carried on seeing Philip off while he himself wondered what the woman would think about a man coming out of her house at that time of the night. He always wondered what people would think. On occasion he pondered within himself whether his restraint on certain actions was motivated by people's opinions or actually God's expectations.
In another twenty minutes Philip was at his gate. He let himself in as usual and just as he opened the main door he noticed Zainab's silhouette on the couch in the living room. He was a bit surprised she was still awake.
"Where have you been?" She asked in a certain tone.
"What?" Philip almost whispered. It was totally unexpected. Why would she ask him that? Something had gone amiss. What were her expectations? What right did she have to ask him about his movements? Surely this was not an issue of accountability, this was an intrusion! She was here as a guest and for all intents and purposes she had overstayed .... Why would she have the boldness to ask his whereabouts?
Philip was silent for a few seconds articulating the appropriate answer then she seemed to come to herself:
"I mean at least if you leave the house you should at least tell someone you left at home that you would be home late! It's almost eleven! I know it's your house but if something happens to you while I am here, I will be asked! Good night."
He watched her calmly stand up and walk to her room. A smile grew on his face. This was totally unexpected, but she was right in a way. Philip had somehow become used to the single life and was beginning to forget how to live with someone, especially a woman. But, this was definitely an intrusion. Intimacy brewing and becoming like a huge tree in the centre of his life. Disturbing.
Intimacy is an intrusion into your lonely lifestyle, a bold invasion of your privacy often with your consent. It just happens to be a very pleasant invasion … most of the time. Intimacy happens when you cross paths with another species of being and find that your numerous plugs fit into their numerous sockets… at least most of them. Intimacy happens when you open up your sockets and extend your plugs to exchange soul by giving and receiving.
Intimacy is an invasion. There are no more gates with this significant other. There are no more barriers. There is so much discomfort in tearing down these barriers and when they are down… they are down. The army raids your inward parts, and nothing is hidden anymore. Whatever was in the dark is completely exposed. The fragile emotions, the unseemly habits, the lousy flaws covered in cosmetics in public places. Everything is exposed!
Intimacy is an intrusion. At the beginning, it is unpleasant to give in. But when the bombardment becomes unbearable, the walls begin to fall. They crack at first, it hurts yet is thrilling. Why does the thrill hurt so much? Because stone walls are crumbling under heavy fire. The women of the city are on rampage. There is chaos in the inward parts. The boundaries are no longer relevant.
Intimacy is an invasion. Looting is lawful because everything is shared. Nothing is private anymore when two become one. The concept of private property has no meaning in this realm. The other one becomes a disturbance that you cannot live without, a massive cedar tree growing in the centre of your bedroom. Things get missing, personal effects are moved, and permissions are granted without being requested. Everything is shared.
Intimacy is liberation when two become one; that is how we are designed. Intimacy is a relief because that is what we long for. Intimacy is a pedestal which we all reach for so long as we have the capacity to feel. Intimacy is a challenge we find fulfilling to surmount. Intimacy is a trap we would gladly walk into over and over again because we would rather be bound by love than be lost in loneliness.
Intimacy is a seed that can grow for a lifetime. Intimacy is a weed that can become beautiful when nurtured or else entangled to the point of choking itself when left untended. Intimacy is an experience so sacred and priceless, so profound and engaging, so complex and intricate that it can only be shared with one other at any point in time during a lifetime.
Intimacy is a treasure often so hard to find and so easy to lose that we must depend on neither logic nor appearance to grasp its deepest meaning. A concept so deep that we must spend a lifetime discovering its infinite layers and facets. It is a maze so intricate that we must pay attention to the tiniest detail to preserve it in its finest form. Intimacy … we could go on and on forever and we will.
Kenneth Igiri, July 2012
Boundary Lines
“Therefore, let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.” I Corinthians 10:12
"Hi Philip" the tinge of excitement in Zainab's voice was suspicious. What was she up to this time? He was just rounding up a project when her call came in. He became used to being called at close of work to buy something along the way or come early or something else. He was not so comfortable with this intrusion, but he never complained. At least not to her.
"Zainab. Howdy," Philip sounded more like he could have said 'What is it now?'. His tone did not deter Zainab. Her excitement remained intact.
"Please buy popcorn when coming home, OK"
"OK"
Philip did not bother asking why but she answered anyway "I got the latest Fringe series!"
"OK"
The calls were often that short. Philip was simply not comfortable with her acting as if she was his wife. It was getting more and more serious.
"Hmmm... who was that, Philip. Who has taken my husby away?"
It was Helen. She had been at the door to his cubicle for a few seconds. The blush on his face gave him away, she knew it must have been a woman. She helped herself to a chair and sat facing Philip.
"So, when are you leaving?" she asked looking him straight in the face.
"Soon". Philip fiddled with his mouse. The internal pressure was mounting. Zainab, Helen .. Abena.... He kept his eyes on his display, wishing Helen would go away but she would not. She was not one to back out in a fight. She did perceive this as a fight, someone seemed to be getting Philip's attention. How could she have known that that someone had a much better chance if it all came down to a struggle for the young man: she lived with him!
"So, would you be interested in Pizza?"
"Pizza?"
"Yup"
Philip chuckled. Having a woman chase him always felt so thrilling. He considered being asked out a 'chase'. It could just be a case of the woman giving him a chance to chase them since he seemed so lethargic about the whole matter. Some women were serious enough about their lives to try to find out whether a friendship with him was going anywhere. They were honest enough to accept that they l
iked him and wanted to see if he liked them too. He just enjoyed the thrill but had not made up his mind about anyone in particular.
"I could get to know your place afterwards..."
"My place?" Philip looked up at her. All sorts of alarms went off in his head! Most of them started with the letter "Z". He certainly could not allow another woman visit him under his present circumstances even though he would certainly have loved to have Helen come around. Abena would have been OK but Helen? No! Abena was less attached in his estimation and he had already told her about Zainab. How would he explain to Helen what Zainab was doing in his house? And maybe this was how marriage would be after all these adventures in singleness: you have to live with just one woman and all others would be at a distance! Why did this seem such a difficult way to live for Philip? Something must have been amiss in his soul.
It seemed to be the Gentle Voice again referring to a verse from the Inspired Writings "from all appearance of evil, abstain ye;". Certainly, there was something uncanny about Zainab's presence in his house that made him uncomfortable about letting people know, especially since most people who knew him knew he was a Christians of the "Born Again" class.
"What's wrong? You don't want me to know your place?"
"Not that..."
"Then what? It's just a friendly visit... I am not going to rape you! So what about Pizza?"
"Err..."
"In fact, just forget I asked..."
Helen rose and left. She glanced at him one more time just as she packed her handbag and left the office. Philip could have sworn he felt physical pain from that look on her face. He certainly would not drink anything she offered him anytime soon. He knew she was interested in him, but the encounter today was scary. Was it his fault? Had he been 'leading her on' as they say? He could not really tell. She did not speak to him for a week, just glances.
Entangled: A Little Too Many, A Little Too Close Page 4
