THE SMELL OF CARRION FLOWERS

IT WAS VISIBLE. The putrid smell of the carrion flower and the mustiness from their old vintage photo reminded her of their past love. She was deeply in love with Lekan, and everyone thought they would make a perfect couple, but everything suddenly fell apart. Before going to bed at night, they wrote each other multiple love letters and shared some thoughts about their future. She had since moved on with her life and married Kunle, a young, dark, lanky, and athletic man. They have been married for seven years without a child. Lekan, though, had promised to win her heart back. Aina worried about her childishness every day. She would sometimes bathe her feminine doll and massage her with her bare palms her eyes cloudy, a ghostly smile between her teeth, and a mother's pride. One Saturday afternoon, her mother-in-law and Oyinlola—a dark, stumpy, rotund lady she brought from the village for her son, Kunle—visited them. Aina initially thought the lady was brought as a maid. When Aina greeted her, she sneered. At that moment she knew she was in for a ghost ride.

“Mama, how are the villagers?” Kunle asked anxiously.

“They are fine. They said I should greet you.” She brought out a bunch of plantains.

He smiled and examined the plantains.

“But Mama you shouldn’t have bothered yourself.” He called Aina to take them to the kitchen.

“Why won’t I bother? How will I come empty to my son’s house? I would have brought more but the harvest wasn’t good this season.”

“By the way, how is Mama Rilwan? How is her health? I hope she’s recovering from the diabetes.” he asked anxiously.

She breathed deeply and shook her head sadly.

“She’s dead. She died last month, and she had since been buried.” She answered in a low voice.

“Oh, poor old woman! May her soul rest in peace.”

“Amen,” Mama answered in a brittle voice.

For two weeks, mama refused to eat Aina’s food. Whenever she cooked, she gave flimsy excuses.

"Oh, it's too peppered! It's too salty! It's too insipid!" She criticized.

She would inform Oyinlola to mount the kitchen and wear seductive dresses to seduce her son. Aina had grown grey hair on her choleric attitude. So, she minded her business. But more disgusting was Oyinlola dirty behaviour. She would leave the dishes unkempt for crickets and ants to dance Salsa and Allegre, and at night, the house was always rhythmic with her piggy snore. The couples were discussed in the living room one night.

"Dear, I am tired of Mama's character. She's making this house a living Hell." She heaved.

"She would soon return to the village. You know she's my mother and I don't want to disrespect her. We just have to be patient." Kunle said gently.

"This is the more reason most women don't want mothers-in-law. They are too domineering." She breathed with a furrowed face.

"It's alright dear. I must go to bed. It's getting late. I have some cases to attend to tomorrow.”

Kunle had gone to his office one fateful day when Aina was attacked and insulted by her mother-in-law and Oyinlola in the kitchen. Aina was singing a proverbial song, but Mama undermined it as insulting. So, she stood at the kitchen door as her lips curled inwards.

“So, it’s high time you insult me with your song.” She said in a hoarse voice.

But Aina continued her song, turning a blind eye.

“Has the cat cut your tongue?” She barked clapping her hands.

“Mama...please respect yourself and let me sing in peace.” She bellowed.

She stood in front of her tapping her right foot.

“Why would my only son marry a man? A womb that is useless and can’t make babies. When a banana is ripe, it brings forth suckers. When it dies, it’s also buried by the same suckers. My ancestors will never let my ears be deaf with cries of babies and my hands and back be barren to carry my grandchildren. As I laboured to bring Kunle into this world, may my labour never be in vain?” She vilified, dragging Aina’s wrapper.

She turned off the stove.

“Mama. I’ve respected you enough. Since you came to this house, I have treated you like my own mother. What else do you expect from me? To cut my head. Never!” She forced her hands off her wrapper.

Oyinlola was beaming like a boiled kettle. She stood at Mama's back.

“You can cut off your head and womb together. I know you came from a mannerless home. That’s how you pour buckets of saliva on your parents’ faces. Of what value is a barren womb?”

She tried to unfetter her hands. In a twinkle, Oyinlola held onto her legs and rolled her onto the floor. She rained a barrage of punches. But Aina threw her forearms in a defensive block. She cried out for help as more torrent of punches rained down on her bloodied face. She was hospitalized for two weeks until Kunle sent them back.

Aina tried to efface the ugly memory. She dusted the picture with her red handkerchief, but the dust lodged in her nose.

"Achoo!" She gave a loud sneeze.

A tiny bit of cockroach leaped out and scurried out of the room. She looked at the picture's back.

"21st October 1962." She muttered.

She had a clear memory of the day. She and Lekan had visited the “La Tropicana Night Club” in Surulere, which was owned by Bobby Johnson, a prominent socialite. The nightclub was one of the most talked-about night spots in Lagos. There were a lot of fun lovers and entertainers every Friday. The men wore tight-fitting boot-cut pants and long, boringly coloured sleep shirts with Afro wigs. Cars and the stale smell of cigarettes were imminent. Before beginning his nightclub enterprise, Bobby Johnson was a gambler and a debtor. But his fortune changed when he won a jackpot. He invested part of the money in his nightclub. In those days, women wore Buba, or English attire, with long, arched skirts before the devil cut the skirts. After the party, they snapped the photo outside the brown, edifice bungalow.

In the same vein, she also recollected how she met her husband, Kunle. That day, he and a few other friends were invited to a club by her friend Biola, whose parents were well-off politicians, to celebrate her birthday. The scene was lit up by crème-de-la-crème men, who arrived with their sweethearts. Aina helped the celebrant with the set-up. When she was tired, she sipped a bottle of Coke while listening to the Lo Mato song played by the disc jockey. Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of a young dark-complexioned, with an arched eyebrow, chiselled nose, and a moderate height man at the end of the room. He was sipping a bottle of Guinness. He wore a blue boot cut, black knit pants, and black leather shoes. She thought he was a model. So, she began to curl her braided hair and wished he could walk up to her table.

She too was a bounty of grace. Her gown, which was red and resplendent, fit her perfectly, and she had a lovely figure. Her oxbow pink lips, aquiline nose, and lazy eyelashes were all encased in her Cleopatra-style braided hair. Her only flaw was the childhood scar on her left face. As their eyes glimpsed like electric sparks and their hearts thundered, neither could bring themselves into a retrospect of sanity. Kunle thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but Aina thought he was the cutest and most attractive young man she had ever met. Perhaps, the chemistry between the two seemed to be like the dark moon rising from its gloom on a heavenly scale.

She changed her mind. She considered calling him over, as her limp, velvet-black eyelashes silently blinked and whispered in the middle of the ocean of love. But given her culture, that would be a desecration. It was expected of a man to initiate contact. With a smile on her face, she ran her fingers through her braided hair, turned her head to face him, kissed her delicate pink lips, and twice adjusted her waist on the plastic chair. She caressed the glass cup containing her drink, as though she had a whole light year to sip it. At this time, more guests had begun to arrive. Kunle mustered the bravery to speak with her. As he approached her table, her eyes darted pretentiously in a different direction.

"Hello, lovely. While I tried to concentrate on getting to Bermuda, your beauty directed the ship more quickly than the captain. " He met her gaze with a cutesy smile.

Like a timid animal peeking out from behind a tree, her smile was timid.

“My name is Kunle, Arowosegbe. I am a Lawyer.” He extended his right arm.

“Oh, that's nice. Good to see you. I am Aina. Aina Adebayo.” She answered tenderly.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

“Oh, sure!”

“Did you come with anyone?” He sat beside her.

“I came alone. The celebrant is my friend.” She answered.

“Really!” He raised his eyebrow in surprise.

“Yes.” She looked lustfully at his eyes.

“Do you have a man?”

“I just quit my relationship for obvious reasons.” She smirked.

"Did he break your heart because, as I understood it, people of my gender these days break hearts?"

“We were cool. I don't want to go into details. But as I said, we broke up for obvious reasons.” She repeated as she sipped her Coke.

She took a last sip from her glass of Coke. She then had a flashback to when her father had rejected her marriage to Lekan on the grounds that he was an uneducated mechanic.

“Do you care for a dance, My Lady?” He extended his right hand.

Lekan was a melophilia in addition to being a highly intelligent legal scholar who graduated first in his class.

“I am a bad dancer,” she replied, bowing her head in timidity.

“Every good dancer was once a bad one.”

A train of thoughts raced through her head.

"What would he think if I made a mistake on the dance floor? Would he treat me like a novice or instruct me nicely? He appeared to be a cool-headed, collected, and perceptive young man. His voice sounded honeyed. Let me give it a try. Practice makes perfect, after all. Alright, I am cool." She said with a flickering smile.

He held her hands and stepped on the dance floor. As they danced, she could smell his citrusy cologne. It filled her senses with the scintillating freshness of a petrichor. He made a fluid movement with his left foot, gliding across the glossy red tile. Like a tiger on the hunt, she slid her right foot forward and followed his retreating foot with hers. His right hand closed around her right waist as he leaned forward and gazed lustfully into her amorous eyes, while his left hand raised to clasp hers. As they walked toe to toe, he drew her hips toward him with a heartfelt, thumping breath. He pushed her back a little and hauled her up again.

“If you blow in my ears, I will follow you?” She whispered in his ears.

“Really!” He breathed deeply.

“I am a lady of my word.” She mumbled.

…..

When Lekan arrived home, it was ten minutes after nine. He slumped down into one of his mischievous wooden chairs, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. His black suitcase was on the red-tiled floor in the living room. All he had left was his sweaty white singlet after taking off his black gown, black socks, white band shirt, and suede shoes. When he closed his eyes, the weight of his exhaustion made him feel as though he might never wake up.

"I was unaware that you had returned," How did you find today's work? Taking the briefcase off the floor, Aina questioned.

"Tense up. I'm completely exhausted! It appears I had a Bata drum being played on my head. He gave his head a tap.

“I apologize for that.”

“Please, get me a cold cup of water, please.”

She brought a cold, bottle of water from a refrigerator in one corner of the room.

Like a lost traveller in the sweltering heat of the Sahara Desert, he gulped down the water.

“Pom-pompom!!! The water welled down.

"Do you need more?" Bending the bottle toward the glass cup.

"No." He drained the sweat on his face.

"Can I put a bucket of water in the bath? Or do you want to eat first?"

"Not just yet. I ought to unwind for a bit. What did you cook?" He stretched his legs.

" Amala and Efo riro soup." She answered.

"That's excellent. However, I have some unfinished business to take care of this evening. Among them is the story of the man who murdered his former spouse."

"But why?" Aina asked raising her eyebrows.

"He was jealous she married another man."

"Some people are evil. So, what became his fate?" She replied with a frown.

"The man was sentenced to death." He spoke.

"That befits him.” She said vengefully.

That night, she lay in bed and gazed up at the dark sky with its billions of serenaded stars. Decomposing leaves and flowers rustled in the cold wind. The smell of carrion flowers was omnipresent outside. She considered the narrative.

“Could Lekan also devise a plan to kill her?”

She breathed deeply as the aroma of the flower became more omniscient.

…............

Kunle was woken by a distress call from the “Area C” police station at Ojuelegba for an inquest into the suspicious death of Tade. The morning was warm and welcoming, and the sun cast an orange glow on the earth. Tade was a bank manager and lived in her estate at Shogunle. It was rumoured by her husband, Muyiwa, that she committed suicide the night before. So, Kunle quickly dressed up, without breakfast, and rushed to the scene. Aina had known him to be a workaholic, but he had little time with her. She had complained on many occasions.

"Money isn’t everything. Sometimes a woman needs the attention of her husband." She would say.

Kunle arrived at the scene at about 9:15 a.m. The living room oozed like the carrion flower. He covered his nose with a black nose cover and exchanged pleasantries with two police officers, a male photographer, a forensic pathologist, and two medical interns. On the floor was the victim covered in a white blanket and scattered, with a poisonous amount of sleeping pills. Her once rosy cheeks appeared pallid and sunken. Her face was darker and shrunk. Her mouth frothed up through the work of laboured breathing. The police officers gave him some information.

Kunle directed the photographer to take some photos. Dr. Akin, the forensic pathologist, a stumpy man with bald hair wore two blue gloves, collected some samples, and put them in a labelled Eppendorf tube for autopsy. On the other hand, Kunle collected his pieces of evidence and put them in a labelled plastic bag. Then he filed some reports. He had inquired about twenty successful murder cases. When he got to his office, he told his secretary, Molayo, a dark, five-foot-four lady, graceful and slim with supple hips like Aphrodite, to type the reports. Molayo had often admired him with the thought of seducing him someday. Kunle couldn’t go home that night. On his tables were piles of documents waiting to be settled. He explained this to Aina on the phone.

"You've just been working and had little time for us. For seven years we have been childless, and you don't seem to care. You think that money is everything. I am just sick and tired of everything." She cut the call and began to sob.

He called back but she didn't pick up. Kunle understood her frustration. He understood how their childlessness was also taking a toll on her thinking. All through the nights, he perused each document. Though, more interesting to him was the case of Tade.

Aina flooded her pillow with tears. Once she broke free of the first tears, others followed in an unbroken stream.

“Am I not a woman enough? Am I not beautiful and well-endowed? What’s my womb for if not to nurture and grow babies? I have never aborted or taken pills. Even those who have had several abortions and swallowed countless pills have a haven of babies.” She cried.

The stars glistened like split sugar atop black marble as the night grew deeper. The bitter wind, so empty of love, whispered in her ears. The Great Horned Owl perched on her roof, showing off its sharp claws and fluffed feathers while its cries echoed through the sky.

….....

Lekan was reading a letter that Aina had written him back when they were in love. He propped his head on a pillow. They had traded quite a few numbers, all of which he neatly stored in his safe. He vowed daily to be wealthy and well-educated to win her back. He had the opportunity to attend university and study Mechanical Engineering, but after losing his parents, everything fell apart. He thus began working as an apprentice in the mechanic shop owned by his uncle. The birds' melodious rhythm was evident that morning against a blue sky. He waited for Bisi, a dark-haired pixie tiny with a mesmerizingly round waist and a lady with utterly brilliant cat eyes, on his bed. In a restaurant, they had first connected. After that, she went to see him four times without using the wand inside the chamber of secrets. After a few conversations on her fifth visit, they let Aphrodite crawl into the sea.

For the three months that he had been in a relationship with her, Lekan thought Bisi had come to fill the void left by Aina because she cooked well and tended to understand him. However, their relationship ended before it started. It all began when he caught her red-handed in a hotel with another man. After the incident, he zeroed his mind on love and chastity and sojourned on a flirtatious cruise. He frequently visits different brothels, lying late at night among prostitutes and drained of all desire for love.

Kunle had conducted a thorough investigation and was certain that Muyiwa had killed his wife. He had called witnesses, Moyinoluwa and Ifeoluwa, their two daughters, to testify. The two girls described how, when he was upset, he would frequently scream and beat their mother. However, their mother was as frigid as morning dew. Muyiwa admitted to the crime and implicated Dr. Enitan following extensive torture. He was prescribed some drugs by Dr. Enitan so he could murder his wife. The lovers intended to wed and share in her estate after she passed away, but Moyinoluwa was awake the night of the murder. Her stomach-ache was so bad that she wanted to ask her mother for medication.

She discovered the bedroom door was locked as soon as she arrived there. She believed that her parents were fast asleep. Then a spirit instructed her to check to see if she was asleep by peering through the lock. She was half-conscious when she saw her father shoving some drugs into her mouth. She wriggled her arms and jerked her knees. Moyinoluwa attempted to sound the alarm, but given his violent nature, he could have killed her as well.

Kunle celebrated in his office, as he always did after winning a murder case.

He thought about his secretary. He had often admired her. But he doesn't want to show it. He doesn't want her to despise him when he makes the move. He came up with a plan. So, he called her into his office.

"You sent for me sir."

"Yes. You can make yourself comfortable." He poured a bottle of Guinness in a cup.

"Thank you, sir." She sipped the drink.

He stood at her back.

“Do you know you are a pretty lady?” He said sultrily.

“Thank you, sir.”

At this time her heart began to pound. She had not seen him in this mood.

“What do you think about me?” He queried as he perceived the banana fragrance from her dress.

“You’re a nice and hardworking man.”

“Do you have a lover?”

“No sir. I just got out of a toxic relationship”

"A lot of men are toxic nowadays. They don't know how to love a woman." He sat and crossed his legs on the table.

"Sir. All men are the same."

"Including me?" He raised his eyebrows.

"You are an exception, sir. You are a real gentleman." She smiled at him.

"Oh, I am walking on the clouds with your compliment. I have never had this in a long while. All my wife did was complain about our childlessness. It had become a national anthem. I am sick and tired of her." He berated, tapping his fingers on the table.

"I think you should look for another woman. You aren't getting younger sir."

"Ah, ah!! Now I think you understand where I am going. I want you in my life. We have worked together for years but I have been waiting for the tranquillity of the wave before casting my net. So, can we be in a relationship?"

Her heart leapt with joy and a glow of smile appeared on her lips.

"Ehm...but... you are my boss! I don't want to destroy your marriage." She said with a smirky face.

"We all find love in the most mysterious places. As for my wife, she can go to Hell." He lashed with a gesticulated mien.

They had a few conversations before the rays of sunshine began to break through the evil sky. She had waited all season for this like a flower casting its anthers for a bird to pollinate. Vehemently, she won't let go.

.......

Closing her eyes while lowering her head in a painful breath, Aina knew their marriage was over. He had impregnated his secretary, Bisi. The lady had come around to their house to reign insult on her.

"You barren woman. The womb that kills babies.” She yelled.

Once again, the flood of Heaven's gate was let loose from her eyes.

Was the man I married the same one? Prior to our marriage, he was my closest friend. Our honeymoon was enjoyable, and our wedding ceremony was lovely. My world is divided. Are I in a trance or am I still alive? Allow this earth to engulf me." She shed tears.

Kunle attempted to refute her when she brought up the issue with him after he got back from work. His eyes were twitching, and he was fidgeting excessively.

"Please... Aina, I didn't impregnate her. I can explain." He knelt with a stream of tears.

"Explain what!" She screamed at him. I had complete affection for you. The first time I saw you, you were flawless. I saw joy when I got to know you. When I first fell in love with you, I saw power. I can see pain now. You've exposed my nudity to the public eye. My mornings are now evenings because of you. Kunle! I will never be able to forgive you." After sprinting to her room, she shut the door.

She acted as though Kunle had never existed, even after he repeatedly knocked. She had decided on something. She was going and she would never come back.

She went to Kuramo Beach the following morning to calm her ringing head. The purity of heaven was revealed in the morning, as though it were an open invitation to joy and play for the feet and the spirit to laugh. Except for the deep blue sea and the yellow sand, the beach was deserted. She reclined on the lazy sand and heard the tides' metronomic murmur, which sounded like a slurpy slap.

"Why did he use foul language as a weapon and stab me on a battlefield? I have given my gold and diamond to him. What more is he looking for? Or should I commit suicide? Should I let this sea's rushing tide drown me? Oh, why am I? Why am I? She cried.

The trees rustled to the tuneful hymn as she looked up at the clear sky. She thought about Lekan for the first time in a long time. He had not been seen by her in seven years.

“Have I erred in some way? Lekan cherished me. However, I broke his heart. Had he moved on, perhaps? Perhaps he is now a family man? Do I need to submerge myself, or simply take your own life? She queried.

......

Kunle had travelled to his hometown of Ilamoye village for the Olojo Festival. The yearly celebration brought the village's sons and daughters together in prayer for their ancestral land. He was lost in thought about Aina, who had packed her things and left his house, as he made his way back home. It was a bright morning with a clear sky and a warm wind that blew silently. He followed the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway while driving. Fast-moving cars with sirens blaring were all over the road.

"Where could Aina be? I have searched everywhere for her. Or has she committed suicide?" He thought deeply.

Suddenly, like two heavyweight boxers in a ring, the two cars collided into each other.

"KRRIIIIIIII! CRAAAAASH!"

Blood and gore shot into the air as their tires skidded and their windscreen broke. He was partially unconscious as he lay on the ground, his skin peeling from his severe burns. He was hurried to a hospital and later pronounced dead.

"Aje. Witch! My son is dead because of you. So, you came to make fun of his demise. Ogun will not forgive you. You will never be forgiven by my grey hairs. You will always be unable to conceive. Evil woman. She lifted her eyebrows and voice, puffed up her chest, and grabbed her black dress.

People came to the scene and begged mama to leave her alone.

"Mama, please let her go." They untied her hands from Aina's dress.

She was defiant as she tied her headgear on her waist. It took more people to calm her.

"Please, madam. You may leave so that peace would reign." A man pleaded with Aina.

"Alright. I will leave. But I never killed her son. " She walked away briskly.

Lekan's eyebrows went up and his mouth fell when he heard from a friend that Kunle had passed away.

“Oh, my gosh!” He wept.

Then he decided that now was the ideal moment to attack. He then started to think of schemes to get Aina back. He was aware of the events involving her and Kunle. She had also had a falling out with her parents over their advice for her to go back to her husband. Aina was a quiet person by nature, but her stubbornness was her only shortcoming. Lekan could only win her back by means of her friend Fatimah. Fortunately, he had freely fixed Fatimah's car once. He told her how his relationship with Aina ended and invited her to a bar. She promised to help and was understanding. She was persuaded to give Lekan another chance by Fatimah.

“After all, Kunle had passed away. You are a youthful lady. You must go on.” She would say.

Lekan, for his part, picked up a pen again and cleaned his documents. He wrote several letters to Aina every week for ten weeks without receiving a response, but he remained hopeful that Fatimah would keep her promise. He and Fatimah had weekly meetings to talk about their progress.

“Please be patient. All she needed was time to recover." She chastised.

After two months of convincing, she finally agreed to their date. Suddenly, faint, pleasing echoes against his septal wall were made by the bluebird inside him twittering from the trees and clacking across from the far side of the lawn. For the first time since their split, he struggled to express his joy. He was drawn to her charming eyes and smile. They were gentle and soft, and they radiated empathy and kindness. As they lay together on the gem-blue sand, the mermaid's call of the velvet wave creased towards the shore.

"I apologize for everything that transpired. I was entirely to blame. She peered at the beach below.

"Every one of us is at fault. I've made my fair share of mistakes. However, we must move on. The sun will endure longer than it does now, in my opinion. Are you going to marry me? He knelt in front of her, taking out a gold ring from its case.

"Awwwww!” She looked away with a faint smile. “Yes, I will.”

Whether or not her parents would accept him didn't matter to her. Her happiness was all that mattered, all others are incidental. He could smell her orange scent as they hugged, but she was reminded of the rotten smell of the carrion flower. The once-clear sky was now covered in dense clouds with a lethal shade of indigo. Thunderclaps, lightning bolts, and just like that, they danced away with the wind, closed like a box trapped in darkness.

The author, Joseph Marcel, Ikhenoba is a Biochemist by profession and a passionate writer. He has published several poems, articles and stories which have been published in Amazon, Poetry South, Short story.net, Poem Hunters, Core Humanity Commons and Academia.edu and Writers Space Africa, Goodreads, Afri-Library and Kinsman Quarterly. Semi-finalist for Black Diaspora Award, shortlisted for Natives Award, and longlisted for Iridescence and Dr. Paul Kalanithi writing awards in 2024. He likes sports, writing and scientific researches.