Mum: (taps her) Oya, get up. Go and take your bath and eat something.
Khadijah: (pretends to be asleep)
Mum: Khadijah!
Adekunle: Mum, leave her. She’s sleeping. Remember, the doctor said she needs rest now more than anything.
Mum: But at least she should bathe and eat.
Adekunle: Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. And… Mum, thank you for coming.
Mum: Well… you know I have no other son but you. Your happiness is my happiness.
Adekunle: Thank you, Mum.
Mum: I should get going now.
Adekunle: To where?
Mum: My house, of course. I’ll come back tomorrow.
Adekunle: Come on, Mum. We need you now more than ever… especially your grandchild. Please stay with us.
Mum: I will stay… on one condition.
Adekunle: Just name it.
Mum: I will stay with her until she puts to bed… to avoid any unnecessary problems.
Adekunle: (takes a deep breath) Hmm…
Mum: I can see you’re thinking about it. I’ll take that as a no. I should be leaving now. (moves to go)
Adekunle: Mum, wait. Fine… you can stay until she puts to bed.
Mum: (gasps) Are you serious?
Khadijah: (starts coughing in bed)
Adekunle: (rushes to her) Are you okay, dear? Mum, please bring water.
Mum: (hurries out) I’m coming.
Khadijah: (tears roll heavily down her cheeks)
Adekunle: Sorry, my dear. Why are you crying? Is your chest hurting?
Khadijah: (breaks into tears) Please… can I go and stay with my parents until I put to bed?
Adekunle: (stunned) What do you mean? Aren’t we taking care of you enough?
Khadijah: (crying uncontrollably) No… just forget it. (turns away)
Mum: (enters, having overheard) Here is the water.
Adekunle: Thank you, Mum.
Mum: If you need anything, my dear, don’t hesitate to tell me. I’ll be in the guest room. (slams the door)
Adekunle: (turns to Khadijah) What is wrong with you? Aren’t we taking care of you well? What else do you want that I haven’t given you? Why are you like this?
Khadijah: I’m sorry… I’m sorry, please. (turns away, pretending to sleep)
Adekunle: (stares at her for a moment, lost in thought) I just hope I can handle this… I don’t even know if I should tell her what the doctor said or keep quiet. One month… it shouldn’t be that hard. I can do this. For my child’s sake. (stands up) I’m going to take my bath.
Khadijah: (tears roll again) I have everything… except peace of mind. Ya Allah, if this is because of my sins, please forgive me.
(Curtain)
Middle of the night, 2:12 a.m.
Adekunle lies awake, restless. The doctor’s warning echoes in his mind. Desire battles with fear.
Adekunle: (picks up his phone) Hmm… so many messages.
(He scrolls until he sees Kelvin’s message. Several videos. He plays them. Loud music, flashing lights, women dancing.)
Adekunle: I can’t believe I missed this… (thinking) Look at those girls… God…
(He types) Kelvin, I can’t believe you made me miss all this fun.
Khadijah: (turns in bed, waking) Baby…
Adekunle: (quickly drops his phone, moves closer, cuddling her) Yes, baby. You want to cuddle?
Khadijah: Hmm… but what are you doing on your phone at this time? You should be sleeping.
Adekunle: Just checking my schedule for tomorrow.
Khadijah: Hold me tighter… I need it.
Adekunle: I’ve got you, baby. (kisses her forehead, his desire slowly rising)
Khadijah: (gently stops him) And… I’m hungry. I want noodles… hot, peppery noodles.
Adekunle: (blinks) At this time?
Khadijah: Yes. And you’re the one that will cook it. If I cook it, I won’t eat it.
Adekunle: Do you know the time? It’s past 2 a.m.
Khadijah: So I should sleep hungry?
Adekunle: Oh my God… you’re joking, right?
Khadijah: Do I look like I’m joking? Please get up and cook. And make it very spicy.
Adekunle: No. I’m not cooking. I can’t even remember the last time I stepped into a kitchen.
Khadijah: Oh… so you can’t do this for me and your child? (about to cry) As if I got pregnant by myself. You better get up, or nobody will sleep tonight.
Adekunle: What is wrong with you? Two minutes ago you wanted cuddles, now you want me in the kitchen?
(He turns away, ignoring her.)
Khadijah: (bursts into tears) You should have told me you’d starve me like this before marrying me. You don’t even fear God. How can you starve me and your child?
Adekunle: (jumps up in frustration) Dijah! There’s food in the kitchen!
(pauses, exhales)
Okay… okay… stop crying. Should I wake Mum to cook for you?
Khadijah: No! Please don’t. I don’t want her food. My baby wants his father to cook it. If you don’t, I’ll cry till morning.
Adekunle: (defeated) Fine! I’ll cook. But I don’t know how.
Khadijah: I’ll guide you. Let’s go. But I won’t touch the pot—if I do, I won’t eat it.
Adekunle: (deep sigh) Nobody told me marriage comes with this level…
Khadijah: Are we going or not?
Adekunle: (stares at her, then stands) Let’s go.
(They head to the kitchen.)
Adekunle: Are you sure this water isn’t too much?
Khadijah: That’s how my baby wants it. Turn on the gas.
(She opens the fridge, licking ice cream.)
Adekunle: Ice cream again? Isn’t that too cold?
Khadijah: That’s what he wants.
Adekunle: Which “he”?
Khadijah: My baby is a boy… my odogwu.
Adekunle: My child is a girl. I want a girl first.
Khadijah: Really? I thought men preferred boys.
Adekunle: Not me. We don’t have girls in our family… I want one.
Khadijah: Focus. Slice the onions. The water is already hot.
Mum: (enters suddenly, shocked, voice sharp) What on earth is going on here?
Khadijah: (quickly drops the ice cream on the table) Umm… I was hungry, so…
Mum: So what? (yells, startling Khadijah)
Adekunle: (pauses, knife in hand) Mum… I was just preparing noodles for her. She said she was hungry. Can you imagine—this time of the night?
Mum: And that’s why you turned my son into your personal chef? Eh? (laughs loudly) You children of nowadays… no respect, no morals! You even have the audacity to send your husband to the kitchen at midnight?
(shakes her head)
In my time, they didn’t raise me to try such nonsense. My husband would have divorced me instantly. When I had cravings, I prepared ahead—bread and milk under my bed. I would wake up, eat quietly, and go back to sleep. But look at you! I don’t even see the work you do in this house anymore just because you’re pregnant. Where is the stress the doctor was talking about?
(points sharply)
Adekunle, drop that onion and go to bed. Let her cook it herself. And if she can’t, I will do it. That is why I am here—to take care of you. What nonsense!
Khadijah: (angrily walks out)
Mum: Come back here! I’m not done talking to you! You this mannerless girl!
Adekunle: Mum… what just happened?
Mum: Can’t you see the rubbish she’s doing? I’m talking to her and she walks out on me. Anyway, give me the knife. I’ll prepare the noodles.
Adekunle: No, Mum… that’s not the point. Do you have to compare your time to now? Things are different.
Mum: What do you mean?
Adekunle: She’s pregnant. The doctor said she shouldn’t be stressed—for the baby’s sake.
Mum: Who is stressing her? Can’t you see how she’s ordering you around like a houseboy? Hmmm… this girl is using your head, and I won’t allow it. Go to bed. I’ll handle it.
Khadijah: (returns, voice firm) Don’t bother. I’ve lost my appetite. (slams the door)
Mum: Eh! (laughs) Look at this girl. Is it me you’re talking to like that?
Adekunle: No, Mum… she was talking to me. And maybe… asking you to stay wasn’t such a good idea.
Mum: What does that mean?
Adekunle: Mum… maybe you should go back home. We’ll call you when we need you.
Mum: (shocked) You’re sending me away again? Me? Your mother? Ade, what has gotten into you? Why do you listen to your wife more than me now? Why are you so ungrateful?
Adekunle: Mum— (raises his voice slightly) I don’t want to be disrespectful, but please… treat her like your daughter. She’s carrying your grandchild. Put yourself in her shoes. Our marriage is still new. We have many years ahead… more children will come. Please, take it easy with her.
Mum: Do you even know what I’ve been through for you? For you and this ungrateful wife of yours? Tell me!
Adekunle: Mum, please lower your voice. The neighbors are asleep. Let’s talk about this tomorrow. (walks away)
Mum: Ade! Adekunle!
Inside the bedroom
Khadijah: (lying on the bed, crying softly)
Adekunle: (climbs onto the bed) Wipe your tears and sleep. I don’t have the strength for this tonight.
Khadijah: So that’s all you’ll say? Did you hear how your mother spoke to me?
Adekunle: What do you want me to do? Kill her? (snaps) Or what exactly? Why do you make everything difficult? Just because you’re pregnant, you now control everything. I don’t even have peace anymore… I can’t even touch my own wife!
(turns away)
If you can’t endure things in your matrimonial home, then you’re not ready to be a wife. Goodnight.
Khadijah: (shocked, crying harder) You don’t have to yell at me… haven’t I been patient enough? What else do you want me to do?
Adekunle: (turns back) Then why did you walk out on my mother? If I did that to your mother, how would you feel?
Khadijah: I didn’t walk out on her… I left to avoid trouble. I couldn’t stand there and let her insult me. Isn’t it better I walked away instead of replying her?
Adekunle: Oh, so you should have insulted her back? If you can’t endure her till you put to bed, you’ll just raise your blood pressure and hurt yourself.
Khadijah: (weakly) I’m hungry…
Adekunle: (scoffs) Now you’re hungry? You’re not serious. Sleep like that, or go to the kitchen and find something. I’m tired. I’m not cooking anything.
Khadijah: Stop talking to me like this… you’re hurting me. (moves closer, rests her head on his chest) Then… I’ll just eat you.
Adekunle: (pulls back slightly) Eat who? Move your head. Don’t come close to me for now.
Khadijah: What do you mean? I can’t touch my own husband? Leave me alone, it’s you I want.
Adekunle: (frustrated) God… what have I done? Dijah, please let me sleep. I’m tired.
Khadijah: (still clinging) Then massage me.
Adekunle: You must be joking. I might as well leave this room.
(tries to pull away, then pauses, softens his voice)
Baby… what do you really want?
Khadijah: I want you.
Adekunle: (quietly) Now I understand… but you can’t have it.
Khadijah: You’re joking.
Adekunle: I’m not. The doctor said you need rest. No stress. Please… just sleep.
Khadijah: I’m not sleepy. I want you.
Adekunle: You’re tempting me… please don’t. I might have to leave this room.
Khadijah: (teary) So now you’re rejecting me? Am I irritating you now?
Adekunle: Do you think I don’t want you?
Khadijah: Then why are you holding back?
Adekunle: (exhales deeply) Goodnight. If I continue like this, I won’t have peace.
Khadijah: (softly) This is not fair…
(Curtain)
Daybreak
Adekunle: Don’t touch me, please. I’m late for work.
Khadijah: (running after him) Baby, wait… why are you avoiding me?
Mum: (steps out of her room, watching)
Adekunle: (sees her, pauses briefly) Good morning. (walks out)
Khadijah: Please don’t leave me!
Mum: Well… looks like it’s just you and me now.
Khadijah: (tries to walk away)
Mum: Stop right there! No greeting? Are we now mates in my son’s house?
Khadijah: Good morning, ma.
Mum: And what is good about it? Anyway… are you hungry?
Khadijah: No, ma. I’m fine.
Mum: Don’t starve my grandchild.
Khadijah: I’m really fine.
Mum: I bought some herbs for you. Very effective—for the baby’s growth. You’ll take it morning and night.
Khadijah: Herbs?
Mum: Yes. Or your mother didn’t teach you that?
Khadijah: I…
Rasheedah: (bursts in) As-salamu alaykum! Anybody home? Ah, my sister… and her lovely mother-in-law. Good morning, ma.
(moves quickly to Khadijah, holding her hand)
How are you feeling now?
(she gently pulls Khadijah toward the room, rescuing her)
Mum: (watching, forcing a smile, mutters under her breath) This girl again…