Musukuta lived in a three-bedroom, self-contained house, with well manicured
grass lawns, and well trimmed flowers surrounding the building. Pa Ali
rented the house for her after they were married. The house was lavishly
furnished, and Musukuta had two maids. One of the maids cleaned every nook and corner
of the house each morning, and did the laundry. The other maid did the
cooking for her. The watchman looked after the compound, at night and in the
morning, and also watered the plants and flowers. Pa Ali bought a second hand
Mercedez Benz 190 that Musukuta used to run her many errands, and also to ferry
little Burama to and from nursery school.
Musukuta engaged herself in a lot of activities after Pa Ali left
for America. She was a member of a Daira group, a religious organisation formed
by Alhagie Omar. She was a member of a couple of women societies, and an
active member of the Setsettal group. The Setsettal group organized weekly
cleaning activities around the neighborhood. Musukuta kept herself constantly
busy. She was running away from her loneliness; she was running away from all
those thoughts of missing her husband that always assailed her. It was over a
year now since her husband left, and although she lacked nothing and did have
everything that she could dream of, she missed her husband a lot. She wished
they were together.
"Wow Musu, what does the man say now? When are you going over? I
know it must be hard for you. But whenever you need me I am around. If you don't
mind we can go to the club this saturday," a friend of Pa Ali told her.
"Yow nah, you don't want to look at anybody else; you just want to
look at your man," another friend of Pa Ali said to her.
Knowing that her husband was away, the men were coming after her
like vultures hovering over a rotten carcass. Some of the men she knew, but
others were complete strangers. Her beauty, her grace and her elegance seemed to
be a magnet that drew all these men to her.
One day, as she left the gas station, a man followed Musukuta to her
residence. The man saw an incomplete structure in the compound; an
unfinished building project that her landlord started on the other side of the
compound. The man then found the perfect excuse to enter the compound.
"I saw this house that you are building and would like to rent it
for my business partner," the man told Musukuta. "He will be arriving from
Europe in a months time. He is a European. I see that the house is not complete
yet; no problem. I can complete it within a month."
"I am not the one building the house. It is my landlord," Musukuta
said.
"It doesn't matter. I can build one for you. If you want I can even
change the car that you drive. Tomorrow I can bring you the keys for a brand
new car," the man said. "I have done this in secret for many women. Even those
thar are married."
Musukuta was at a lost for words. Who was this man? She looked
accross to the street, and parked in front of her compound gate was a shiny,
silver-colored brand new Pajero. The man noticed her seeming interest, and beaming
he said:
"I can get you a similar one like that. I will bring the keys for you
tomorrow."
"I am not interested in your offer," Musukuta said, calmly. "I will
tell the landlord about your proposal for his building. I will get an answer
for you."
The man left and returned the next day with another brand new car.
He had a briefcase stacked with newly printed banknotes. He entered the
compound with his flowing Waramba.
"What did your landlord say?" the man asked Musukuta. "I have
brought five thousand dalasis as a down payment for the rent. I will commence the
completion of the building immediately."
"I haven't seen the landlord yet. It was just yesterday that you
came here," Musukuta said.
"I can leave the money with you. No, you can take it," the man
struggled with his words. "I just want you to be nice to me. I will take good
care of you."
When Musukuta became aware of the man's hidden intentions, she
became furious.
"Do you know me?" she asked, angrily. "How then can you walk into my
compound offering me the moon and stars, and insulting my integrity by
having the audacity to tell me this nonsense. Get out of my compound right now,
and don't ever come here again." She chased the man out of the compound.
At the gym where she trained, another man followed her as she walked
to her car.
"I noticed that you come here often. I also come here everytime to
train. Do you realized that you are a very beautiful woman? I hope you are not
married?" the man asked.
"Of course, I am married. My husband is in America," Musukuta said.
"Well, I wish you were not married. Anyway, if it is not a problem
can you have dinner with me. You can give me your cell phone number. I will
call you," the man said.
"I can give you my number. I just cannot go out with you. I am a
married woman," Musukuta told him, politely.
When Pa Ali called her, Musukuta narrated all these incidents to
him.
"You have to take me out of here," she told Pa Ali, in their
telephone conversation. "Everyone is trying to take advantage of me. Including your
friends."
"I am quite secured with your sincerity and faithfulness," Pa Ali
said over the phone. "That is the reason I don't worry much about you."
"Don't take advantage of that yourself, and just leave me here.
Although you are providing me with everything, don't you understand that I missed
you too. I am also human and I have feelings. I am trying my darnest to
resist all these temptations," Musukuta said.
Musukuta started to work on her own, when it became evident to her
that Pa Ali was taking too long to take her to America. She talked to people
who could help her.
"I have another ticket for a convention I am attending in Ghana.
You can travel with me for this convention. The stamp that you have on your
passport can help in your visa application," a bank executive, who was
interested in a relationship with her, told Musukuta.
"I can give you the money to go on a business trip to Dubai. You
don't have to pay me back after all your goods are sold," another gentleman
offered.
When it became apparent that all these men wanted something from
her, Musukuta relied on her own efforts. She applied for a visa on her own and
was lucky. She was granted a six months visitors visa. She kept this as a
secret. She didn't even tell her husband. The only person she told was her
mother.
Musukuta discreetly made her plans to travel to America. She
bought two South Africa airline tickets; one for herself, and the other for her
son. She would fly to Kennedy airport in New York, and then board a Delta
airline plane to Logan's airport in Boston. She was excited about the prospects
of Pa Ali meeting his son; little Burama was now two years old.
Musukuta had taken extra preparations for the journey. A well known
Senegalese hair stylist braided her hair. She had also lost a few pounds with
her intense physical training regime; she now looked slimmer and ten years
younger. She had an intricate headtie, a grand African outfit, when she made
her joyful entry in the US on a humid summer mid-afternoon.
It was on Friday, and shortly after the South Africa airline landed
at Kennedy airport, Musukuta was again enroute aboard a Delta Airline plane
to Logan's airport in Boston. Little Burama was sleeping. He had slept most of
the journey from Dakar to New York.
Before the plane landed in Boston, Musukuta briefly thought about
what she had done. Here she was about to land in Boston with her son. She was
to meet her husband who had no idea, not the faintest clue, that she was
coming to meet him. She had not seen her husband for two years, and the only
things she had with her was his residence address and his telephone number. Also,
this was her first time to travel to America. She knew nobody here except a
cousin who live in New York. She had the phone number and home address of her
cousin tucked safely in her purse, just in case.
Musukuta pulled her two suitcases by their strings with one hand,
and held the hand of little Buruma with the other. The suitcases were not
heavy. She had decided to travel very lightly given that she was travelling with
a child. At the welcome lounge, a burly man offered to help her with her
luggage to the taxi stand outside.
Musukuta sat comfortably at the back of the taxi, and held little
Buruma to her chest. She gave the taxi driver the address for the Brighton area
residence where Pa Ali was staying. She took little interest in the beautiful
scenery, and the expansive highway, as the taxi driver sped past. All her
thought were consumed with the initial reaction when she stood before her
husband. She had to prepare herself for the big surprise; the gasping look that
would contort her husband's face. She would appear to him as a wonka, a kind of
insect llike a spider, that showed up in the middle of the dry season.
"Here we are young woman," the taxi driver said. "The house is that
grey building on your right. You are a very beautiful woman. Where are you
from?"
"Just arriving from the Gambia to meet my husband," Musukuta said,
broadly smiling to the taxi driver.
"Welcome to the states. Enjoy your stay" the taxi driver said. He
helped Musukuta with her luggage into the building.
Musukuta stood outside the door of the apartment and hesistated for
a while before she rang the bell. Nobody came to open the door. She rang the
bell again. May be Pa Ali was not home, she thought. She would have to sit
against the door and wait until he comes home. While she was embroiled in her
thoughts, the door of the apartment slowly opened. Instead of seeing her
husband, Musukuta saw a beautiful, light-skinned, black American girl who stood
at the door. Her long black hair supinely rested over her neck.
Brianna curiously looked at Musukuta and then at the child standing
besides her. She took a furtive glance at the luggages, and then back at
Musukuta again.
"What do you want?" she asked, confused. She was wearing a
transparent pink negligee loosely tied to her waist.
"It must be a mistake..." Musukuta started to babble. As she turned
to walk away, holding little Buruma's hand, a familiar face appeared at the
door in boxer's shorts. Pa Ali almost missed a breath when he recognized her.
He gasped. Musukuta blinked her eyes. She blinked again.
"It couldn't be him," she said, very, very softly.
"What did you say?" Brianna asked, searching Musukuta's face. She then
turned around and looked at Pa Ali. He had a puzzled look all over his face.
"What? Do you know this woman?" Brianna asked Pa Ali. She had an ugly
grimaced all ovr her face.
"This dirty pig is my husband," Musukuta quietly answered the
question for her.
"That is a lie," Brianna started to scream. "What the f...k. You
never told me that you have a wife."
"And a son, too," Musukuta interjected.
"This woman will not stay here. You lousy son of a b.... ," Brianna
shouted. She shoved Pa Ali back into the apartment.
"You can have him for all I cared," Musukuta started to say, as
the door was rudely slammed on her face.
She had the yelling and screaming, as she pulled her son along
and started to walk away from the building. The commotion at the apartment was
getting louder and louder. There appeared to be the shattering of glasses.
Musukuta was lucky to pick another taxi as soon as she stood at the curb of
the street, a few distance from the apartment. She could still hear the
screaming.
"Take me to the train station," Musukuta told the taxi driver. As
she sat on the back of the taxi, she consoled her son who was now bitterly
crying.
At the train station, Musukuta briefly left her luggage
unattended, as she frantically tried to place a phone call to New York. She called her
cousin and informed him that she was taking the train back to New York. She
was so distraught to explain what had happened. When she went back to her
luggage, one of the bags was stolen.
Musukuta was desperately looking around for her luggage. Everyone
else was busy taking care of their business. An elderly porter noticed how
frantically she was looking around.
"What is it, ma'am? Did you loose something?" the porter asked.
"My bag. It is my bag," Musukuta answered, sullenly.
"In the station here, you don't leave your luggage unattended,"
the porter said. "Go to the office over there and report the incident."
THE END.
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