Adaeze and Hope

Adaeze sits in her Toyota Avanza, its engine purring nicely, a child seat in front and at the back. She is making small talk with another parent- it's a post drop children off at school ritual, along with the double parking. She cha chas her goodbye and drives the 1 mile home. Aboki opens her gate, she drives past the drone of the silent gen and a water tower. She sighs, forgotten something, Aboki opens again , she drives to the DSTV office, pays for the subscription - 10k - full bouquet. Husband must be kept at home, this being World cup season and all. The mirror in the office catches her, from 60 to 85kg in two kids. A frown clouds her face, she drives home. This is middle class nirvana. Married, with kids, the holy grail – manacled to her womb and the kitchen sink. Her mum is happy, Dad too, the Pastor is v happy, the church, society is delirious. Adaeze thinks of the Riemann Hypothesis as she often does, the great unsolved of Pure Maths, she thinks her daughter may one day have a chance at it, as she cleans the snails and bastes the chicken, ready for tonight's game – for her banker husband and his friends. I marry 'correct' woman put for house her husband would boast, as they munched peppered snails and roast chicken at half time.