First, it was Pamela, then Joy, and now we have a certain Nkiru on our hands. And the same question is up in the air.
If you know, you know.
However, in case you missed it, let me bring you up to speed.
A certain video has been trending on social media over the last couple of days. In the video, a woman and her best friend are seen having an exchange of words and the drama soon take a turn and degenerate into rapid-fire blows and slaps from one to the other.
Accompanying this physical assault were cries and shrieks of betrayal as apparently, the assaulter’s best friend, Nkiru – the woman at the receiving end of all those hot slaps – had decided to dip her hand in her friend’s honey pot.
She was having a clandestine affair with her best friend’s husband.
The feeling of betrayal was palpable and one couldn’t help but feel for the betrayed woman because some cuts are so deep that, you feel the only way the traitor could be made to feel a little bit of the pain they caused is by physically inflicting pains on them.
Crimes of passion, you may say.
The woman beating Madam Nkiru is also heard saying frantically asking in the video, “Where is the knife? Where is the knife?”
Aside the tired non-sequitur that no man is worth risking a lifetime spent in Nigerian jails (that are just one rung up from the deepest dungeons in hell), why would you go for a… knife?
We feel the aunty’s pain at seeing she was being hen-olded (the feminist version of cuckold) by her husband and best friend but hol’ up, hol’ up.
Trust me when I tell you that while good friends are hard to find and when you do find them you should keep them as close as you possibly can (not close enough to steal your man though), ironically, friends are a dime a dozen.
What about your man?
I am getting wary of asking these questions every time I see the often ubiquitous video of a woman slapping the side chick around or causing her some form of grievous bodily harm.
In such situations, I always ask: what vows did this person you are slapping around make to you that you feel the need to risk jail time by slapping sense back into their skulls?
Do you know what I have always believed?
Everybody out there is fair game, irrespective of who they are and what they claim to be.
However, the burden of integrity lies on the person who has vowed to another, to have and to hold.
The one who has promised fidelity and companionship ’till death do you part’ is the one who owes you (and the business end of your fist), an explanation on the off chance that their village people finally succeeded in tracing them to their current location, not a random old friend.
How many vows did that friend make to you?
Did you hold a lavishly put-together ceremony where you both involved your parents and friends and swore an oath before God and man to respect each other till DDYP?
No? I am sure you did not do that.
So why do you think the person who owes you an explanation and a therapeutic thrashing at your hands is the relative stranger and not the one who broke his/her vows to you?
Okay, hold that thought there… I dey come.
So aunty was yelling ‘give me knife, give me knife’, while she had an accomplice capture her committing a crime on camera.
As a matter of fact, she was so blinded by passionate rage that she kept demanding for more light so that people could clearly see her committing a crime, and that the camera should keep running so they not only capture her in situ but also provide evidence of attempted murder to boot.
“Give me knife, give me knife.”
Hanty, see you see prison o.
You see, even crimes of passion, despite acknowledgment that you were pushed to the wall, are not absolved of punishment under the full weight of the law, by any constitution on the face of this earth.
You may receive a reduced penalty, but do the time you must, especially since you captured yourself on video committing a smorgasbord of minor misdemeanors; then proceeded to cap it all by sharing someone’s nude pictures while you physically assaulted them; on the World Wide Web.
Edakun, members of the Long Suffering Wives Association of Nigeria (LSWN), you all need to start learning how to take a couple of bottles full of chill pills; analyze dicey situations critically; identify who can logically be said to be your ‘enemy’ in such situations; take snap second decisions that ensure the bushmeat does not end up being the hunter; and come out of a deep hole full of shit, smelling like roses.
Because if you ask me, Madam Nkiru’s beater should be out there somewhere seeking explanations from her husband after taking the immediate decision to render Nkiru inconsequential in her life; and not be making and circulating videos of herself committing a crime.
Because if na me be Nkiru, na to go find one ‘the law the law’ somewhere and ask for legal representation.
Armed with snapshots of the blogs where the video is currently circulating, I will meet my ex-best friend in court.
And when the spindly arms of the law have run its course and she is cooling off in one of the maximum security prisons in the country, eating weevil-infested beans swimming in a watery base of saltless palm oil and repenting at leisure, I will pay her a visit one bright Sunday like that.
I will make sure I carry a cooler of ‘well organized’ jollof rice with peppered goat meat.
We will visit her and bring her jollof rice and Coca Cola from the outside world, and handwritten love notes from her children.
With that, she will see that her useless husband with the restless penis was never worth documenting herself committing a crime for in the first place;
Her mumu will now finally come and go and ‘do’.