Chapter 21: Chapter 21

At exactly quarter past seven in the evening, Ama Donkor closed the main gate to plot number 97/1 Kponkpo Teiman, Oyarifa behind a black Kantanka Odeneho 4x4 vehicle , which drove in to park under a canopy. Greg stepped out in his smart black t-shirt, trousers down and camp boot to match, rushed inside. To a stranger, Greg went to the office, this day, in trainer’s kits; but that was not the case. Many a time, he found time out of his busy office schedules to visit the Gymnastic Centre nearby to train and burn out some unwanted fats accumulated in his body system. In a day that he went to the gym, he changed his office clothes into his training outfits, of which he drove home today.

Greg headed towards the main entrance of the two bed-room semi-detached swish building, but was accosted by Ama, who was going toward the back door. “You are welcome, dad.” Ama whispered softly and attempted to walk away, but was stopped by her father. “Good evening, my daughter. How is home?” Greg asked and Ama replied. “Normal, dad.” She turned one hundred and eighty degrees to face her father. She tried to collect her father’s brief case, of which Greg handed it over to her. Ama redirected her movement towards the main door. Greg followed her and said. “What do you mean by Normal?” Ama continued to move ahead without looking back. “Aww……. Dad, normal as it was when you left the house this morning. Nothing has changed. The tension in the house can be cut with a knife. There has been stormy, acrimonious and trouble brewing everywhere, somehow every time in the house.” Ama summarily retorted. She went to place the brief case on top of a glass-coated centre table at the sitting room. She tried to leave but Greg called her to sit down; he wanted to have a word with her. Greg sat on the settee. He unlaced to remove his camp boot. All along, Ama was seated quietly watching him. He stretched his legs onto the glass table. Greg looked deep into Ama’s eyes trying to enter her mind through the eyes. “Ama, my love.” Greg began in a subtly tone. However, Ama gingerly inhaled in aghast. Greg Continued. “Like you rightly observed, there has been tension in our once peaceful home for some time. I have sensed, felt and experienced it personally. But, my daughter, just tell me. What at all is going on between you and the convicted murderer? I’m asking this because; I can’t bring myself to understand why you want to throw away a brilliant career as a lawyer to follow a mere stranger.” The young girl looked at her father in a playful manner. She blinked and smiled gently.

“Yes, dad, you are right. But remember that I am a lawyer. My duty is to defend and help the indefensible.” Ama said, but Greg was a little bit impatient. He subconsciously released his feet from the centre table. He sat properly on the settee. There was a moment of panic in his voice. “What? Is that how you are going to use the knowledge acquired for? I do not blame you. You have never paid school fees or rent a room or bought books with your own hard earned cash before. If this is how you are going to behave, then how are you going to make money to look after yourself, let alone me and your mum?” Ama’s attitude changed and the playful mood suddenly vanished. It dawned on her that Greg was serious about the matter. She knew her father very well; introvert, but could be unpredictable at times, when it came to matters concerning his immediate family. A little harmless family matter could easily escalate into un-proportional dimension, which could end up at the elders, counsellors and sometimes Session meetings of his Church.

Ama could recollect a year or two ago when trending rumours circulating in town alleged that she was having amorous relationship with her best friend Koryo. The rumours eventually got to the ears of Greg; who did not bother to investigate the authenticity of the allegation. Rather, he chose to believe what he had heard. He started ranting and cursing brimstone in the house. The tension created was much severe than the current one. He would always say that how on earth a woman could has amorous relationship with her fellow woman. This was disgusting and against the laws of nature. Before one could say jack, Ama and Koryo; together with Anastasia were dragged to Session. It was through the brilliant efforts of the Superintendent Minister in-charge of Accra Newtown Presbyterian Church that brought the matter into successful closure. As this earlier matter was dying out, his daughter has once again entangled herself with another love affair. This time around it involved a seemingly male murderer. Now Ama has to think fast in order to floor her inquisitorial father.

The Sunday school lessons had thought her that infernos start from just fragrance; before developing into smoke and then finally fire. This little family feud could escalate out of proportion. In fact, she had to wear her legal thinking cap or else her father will vicariously pushed her to the centre of the tensed situation brewing in the house. For the twenty-two years she had known Greg as a father, one thing was certain: her father has a quiet demeanour and yet a temper as hot as a voracious lion. This coupled with his entrenched position as an adept communicator; he always argued himself on any issue to blame others but himself. Ama deduced from her mental blackboard.

“Hmmmm…” Greg sucked in air and began laughing. His body language demonstrated clearly that he did not see value in what Ama has to say. Greg’s laughter infectiously affected Ama, who also joined in. “Ama, my daughter, forgive me for any harsh words used! But let me sound a note of caution to you, if you want to make me happy, you should forget about this Jobson story. You are my only daughter. I cannot sit unconcern for you to waste your life and time on someone who is beginning life with criminality.”

“But daddy….” Just when Ama wanted to say something, Greg burst out. “Enough! This matter is closed. I am your father and I do not want you to see, walk or mention Jobson in this house or in my presence any longer.” Ama got up, started murmuring while leaving her father’s sight. She insisted that she was old enough to crack her own nuts and will follow Jobson’s case to its logical con-clusion. From a distance, Greg shouted, “set my supper in ten minutes time. I am going to shower.” Ama did not respond.

Greg left his brief case and camp boots at the sitting room and headed towards the bedroom. At the aisle leading to the bedroom, he met his wife. “Good evening, Anas.” Greg greeted. Anastasia did not respond but gave her husband evil eyes and walked past. Greg held the door knob and tried to turn it open but realised that it has been locked. He turned one hundred and eighty de-grees towards the back view of Anastasia. “Anas, why have you locked the bedroom door?” He asked with an angry tone. Anastasia did not look back and continued to move forward. She blurted into the wind. “Move to the storeroom. I can’t share the same room with you any-more.”

“By implication, you are telling me to pack out of my own house. Isn’t, Anas?” Greg snapped. Anastasia stopped to address Greg. “Say our house, not my! This is a shared property with shared responsibility. It belongs to all of us, including our unborn grand generations.” Greg knew his wife very well. Now that she has started implementing her plans, there was no turning back. There was no use arguing over this. However, he knew also that if he packed out, there will be hell fire in the house. Greg was in a dilemma. He either accepted Anastasia’s orders or fought a losing battle, which had a tendency to break the family apart. He gave in and surrendered to his fate in order to avoid any insults or mockery. “Anas, please, just consider my status in society and position at the office. You know very well that the storeroom is too small to accommodate even a single bed let alone a mat. The store is almost full with the family left overs. It is infested with mice and cockroaches as well as wall geckos.” “Yes, I know all that. But what does that have to do with me? It’s your life. It’s your own cup of tea. You’re at liberty to live it the way you choose.” Anastassia concluded icily.

Anastasia Donkor was a gorgeous woman, pure in heart and an outstanding Christian, who cherished her marriage and family. Despite her position in the church as a member of the Women’s Fellowship, one would have thought that she would forgive the misdeeds of her hus-band but she was a mere human with her own imperfections. A non-Christian or religious or spiritual observer would argue that she should allow sleeping dogs lie or let bygones be bygones. However, Anastassia surmised that it was the same holy book that says spare the rod and spoil the child. She did not want Greg to see her as a weakling because of her Christian background or forgiving spirit. She knew for sure that divorce was inevitable but for now separation was in the offing. She could not afford to lose all that she had struggled to gain over the years in this marriage. But the question on her lips was, whether Greg has learnt his lessons or was repentant or was he going to turn a new leaf and fought for the survival of this union and relationship? In the end no one knew where the time goes with all these thoughts.

She quickened her steps towards the kitchen, where she found Ama busily peeling and cutting some slices of yam to boil. “Ama, what are you cutting these yams for? Haven’t you eating?” Ama replied her mum. “Oh, mum, I am preparing something for dad. He asked for it. Perhaps he is very hungry.” Anastasia ordered Ama to leave the kitchen and go to bed. Ama left the kitchen, whilst Anastasia went to the lavatory. The most worrying thing was that Ama went inside her room to peep through the key-hole; monitoring the movements of her mother. Her eyes followed her mum from the lavatory; along the aisle until Anastasia entered and locked up herself inside the bedroom. She waited for another five minutes to convince herself that mum was not coming out. She knew her mother so well that so long as she has gone to the lavatory to empty her bladder, she was ready to rest her bones after a hard day’s struggles.

She quickly ran to the kitchen to continue the cooking. She lit the stove, placed the silver filled with one-third full of water and washed the sliced yams into it. She added some measured salt to give it taste. She then allowed the contents to boil for closed to thirty minutes before removing the silver bowl from the stove. She drained the water out of the bowl. She served five slices of the yam onto a plate and fetched some kontomire stew onto another plate. She went to the dining table to serve the food. After placing the food and setting the table with cutlery and drinking water, she left to her room.

Greg strode into the bathroom in his trainers to shower. He came out refreshed and went straight to the dining table to eat. Afterwards, he moved to the sitting room, relaxed in the settee watching television.