Silent Wail

By Esther Atsen

Daniela Umars commitment to God is unquestionable. Her amiable personality and charm make her admired wherever she goes. Married to Joshua, a handsome aristocrat and business tycoon, she is surrounded by riches and everything money can buy, as well as three adorable children. But behind this faade is a struggling marriage no one knows about.

The highly intelligent and likable James Obida, a deputy commissioner in charge of investigation for the Criminal Investigation Division of the Nigerian Police Force, approaches Daniela with concerns about his wife, Patricia, and a plea for assistance. Daniela helps save the couples marriage and facilitates Patricias personal walk with God. But, Daniela finds she wants more; she wants another womans husband, an average man in comparison to her husbands status, whose charm is a passionate nature her billionaire husband desperately lacks.

What begins as a simple attraction soon becomes an obsession. And where all human reasoning and effort fail, can her faith in and love for God and all she holds sacred, save her from this pit her soul has tumbled into?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Nov 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781973606499

Esther Atsen

Esther Atsen is studying for a doctoral degree in educational studies at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. Her writing is informed by her experiences doing ministry among couples as a pastors wife and from past personal struggles with the temptations women face. Atsen and her husband, Isuwa, live in Illinois. She has four children.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Daniela Umar ran the slender claws of the silver comb briskly through her long black hair, taking note of the effect of every stroke as she watched her reflection in the dressing mirror. How gorgeous, she thought. On this score God was exceptionally generous. She wished silently that he was more generous on the one matter upon which her overall happiness depended to a greater degree than on her physical appearance.

Soon the hair lay neatly down her back and shoulders. She dropped the comb into the small, fancy cosmetic basket, grabbed the face powder, and then gently stroked her face with the smooth brush. That, too, was done in no time. Then she fumbled for the eyeliner and hastily brushed it on her lids.

Daniela had other things on her mind as well. She was particularly eager for tonight’s meeting, and she knew why.

James would be there.

He had told her when they chatted briefly on Facebook a few days before that he was returning yesterday and that he was looking forward to tonight’s meeting. She felt a familiar nudge deep down in the seat of her emotion, that vague feeling of guilt that was unaccountable. But just as she had done several times lately, she dismissed her conscience and wasn’t about to go on a guilt trip. Surely, there wasn’t anything wrong with liking someone very much and wanting to be where—

Darling, we are running late, Joshua’s voice interrupted her thoughts sharply. Goodness! He was such a gentleman with an obsession for punctuality.

Okay, hon. Will be right out.

Hastily clearing the surface of the dresser, she pulled the drawer open and dumped in the basket, then shut it with one firm push. After one last look in the mirror, she grabbed her handbag and disappeared through the door.

Daniela and Joshua were attending the couples’ Bible study at the Williams’ in Kubwa. As they set out, Daniela prayed to handle herself well for God’s name’s sake. Really, if there is nothing wrong, why pray such a prayer? her conscience queried. She didn’t have an answer. To what extent was she allowed to like a man who wasn’t her father or brother or husband?

They inched through the notorious rush-hour traffic that turned the Kubwa road into every motorist’s nightmare. Cars and motorbikes honked impatiently, a suffocating mob of vehicles. Desperate hawkers flocked over to the slowed vehicles, worsening the nightmare. Joshua drove in complete silence, his frustration with the traffic so tangible it had become a presence in the car.

Finally, they arrived. After Joshua maneuvered the ash Mercedes-Benz C-Class into a parking space, Daniela stepped out into the dark gray night.

It was one of those hot evenings in March when the wind was on a seemingly timeless recess and the humid air felt limp against the lungs. The air was heavy with the fragrance of blossoms from Elder Williams’s orchard, mingled with the familiar scent of the queen of the night flower. Stars shimmered against the clear sky like tiny, disjointed pearls on a garment. A crescent moon stood among the adoring stars like a crown prince, ruling the night with young, celestial charm.

Daniela moved a few steps and then hesitated.

She had seen James’s car!

Lead the way, Joshua urged, coming from behind her and pushing her elbow gently.

They walked down the short, narrow pathway framed by well-kept yellow bushes that ended at the Williams’ home, an old-fashioned duplex. The buzzing voices of its occupants now overshadowed the chirping of crickets and the chorus of other twilight insects. The couple climbed the few steps to the veranda. Daniela knocked on the door and waited. Elder Williams answered the door, all smiles when he saw them.

"Maraba, the old man, a retired army chaplain who still looked agile in spite of his age, said amiably in Hausa. Good to see you, my daughter. He gave Daniela a hearty embrace, enveloping her in his long, strong arms. Joshua, we’re happy you’re able to come." He shook Joshua’s hand firmly.

Daniela crossed the small foyer, passing the guest toilet on the left into the spacious and brightly lit air-conditioned living room, leaving Joshua behind with the elder.

The fluorescent light made the heavy maroon curtains and white chiffon blinds stand out against the creamy walls and tan leather chairs. The room was decorated in a strange but charming combination of traditional and modern—framed family portraits, a couple calendars from memorable occasions, and designed calabashes and earthen jars. A huge portrait of a younger Elder Williams in his army uniform marked the front of the room, adjacent to a flat-screen TV on a tinted glass stand.

Daniela loved to be here. It brought back childhood memories, even though her parents’ home was nowhere near this elegant. She could see her father reclining on his old wooden rocking chair, listening to the BBC Hausa news. Maybe the family portraits, maybe the calendars, or maybe the couple themselves stirred this nostalgic feeling for the happiest time of her life. Quickly, however, her mind returned to its earlier preoccupation.

Then she saw him.

Her heart fluttered unsteadily. He was leaning against the wall of the dining room, arms folded, with the aloofness of a schoolboy keeping away from trouble. He seemed on the lookout for their arrival. No, her arrival. A broad smile brightened his face, deepening the dimple on his chin. Daniela took her time to greet the few people present. James stretched his hand as she approached, and all caution gave way to a racing heart as she took it. The large hand encircled hers.

Welcome back, she said, her face lit with the hearty smile that bared her bright and not-so-even teeth.

Thanks, he boomed. Good to see you.

Their eyes held, and for that brief moment, she felt drawn into him, her chest pounding. She drew her hand away gently. He let go reluctantly. She took his wife in a firm embrace, a desperate attempt to shatter the moment.

So good to see you, Pat, said Daniela as she drew away from the embrace, flashing that same charming, all-attention kind of smile. You’ve lost some weight. You look good.

Patricia Obida was wearing a blue fitted short-sleeved blouse with a wide neckline over black trousers.

Thanks, Daniela, said Patricia. I wish James could say the same. You seem to grow more beautiful by the day!

Really? I’m sure you’re teasing me, but thanks all the same.

Of course, you know I am not. How is Joshua? Oh, there he is! How are you, Joshua? Patricia’s complete attention moved to Joshua, and her body followed suit, leaving Daniela with James.

And how are you, Daniela? James said immediately.

I’m good. Thank you, she responded awkwardly. And you?

She couldn’t look him in the eye and wasn’t sure exactly what she was feeling anymore or what she wanted to feel. She felt ashamed of herself.

I feel excellent. His lips stretched further in a charming smile. Pat was right. You look … stunning tonight. His look was intent.

Daniela wondered if she’d overdressed and realized just then that she’d wanted to look good for him. Well, it had had the desired effect. A stab of guilt wrenched her heart as the heat of embarrassment spread over her, making her palms damp. She was clad in a simple purple gown that stretched a little below her knees and black high-heeled sandals. A simple gold chain with a tiny silver pendant that matched her earrings fell conspicuously around her slim neck. The subtle charm, this simple vanity, made it her favorite jewelry.

And your trip? she said, hoping to distract him from gawking at her.

Yeah, it was good.

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James Obida wished he could confess that he’d missed Daniela greatly and was elated to see her now. And he wasn’t able to think straight or speak sensibly, thanks to her presence! He was filled with such euphoria that it left him light-headed, floating on wings of sheer delight. He had seen her the moment she walked into the room and had felt his heart miss a beat. He’d not been able to tear his gaze from her since. Her thick black lashes now cast shadows over her eyes, veiling them. She was looking at a point below his face, and he hoped it wasn’t at his pulse.

How he had missed her!

He was sure she didn’t realize how her presence affected him. Never had he seen a woman so beautiful from the inside out yet so unaware of her charm.

Daniela was slender and medium height. Not too skinny and no extraordinary curves, just perfect. Her posture and graceful gait impressed on his mind the image of a young gazelle. There! He stopped himself. He had no right to think of her in this way. When had his feelings for her taken such a turn? Her real charm, he decided, was beyond her looks. Her intelligence and virtue, the sheer grace of her disposition, appealed to him as nothing had before. His attraction to Patricia was more physical, but in Daniela, he saw the finer qualities of womanhood. Such grace and power and control was embodied in a gentle and quiet spirit. She had a joyful demeanor that was infectious. Like he should stay with her forever, away from the chaos of life, basking in the comfort and peace that surrounded her.

I brought you a present from my trip, but I forgot to bring it with me tonight.

Really? That was very kind of you. Her smile broadened as she added, But I’m afraid it looks like I end up with a present after every trip.

He knew she didn’t mean to embarrass him, but she did all the same. For a moment he was quiet. Only Daniela could render him a witless sheep! He dipped his hands in the pockets of his black tailored trouser and said tentatively, And who says you do not deserve it after all you’ve done for me?

Oh, there again! She laughed. The Lord did that for you, James. I could never do a thing.

His heart stopped, the ripples of her laughter gliding down to his inmost being.

Oh yes, you could, he thought to himself. You could kill me with your sweetness.

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For the rest of the night, Daniela thought about James and the strange excitement she felt. James had stared at her throughout the meeting to the point of embarrassment. Maybe she was the only one conscious of it, but it made her extremely uncomfortable. This confirmed her suspicion that he adored her. Strangely, it made her both happy and scared.

And guilty.

What if there were a camera that could show what everyone was feeling? Her stomach tightened at the thought. She imagined people’s reactions if they knew. She imagined how Patricia would feel—betrayed, cheated by her close friend, confidante, and mentor. What about Joshua? Ha, he would die probably. He believed in her love for him to the point that he took it for granted. He could swear she wouldn’t be able to love another man beside him. Oh no, not while he still lived.

But was she in love with James? No, she didn’t think so. She just liked him, very much liked him. Good people were hard to come by, and James was one. He was a rare friend—not just to her, but to Joshua as well—with whom she felt at home. He was like a thrilling adventure.

The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? The scripture slipped through her mind subtly. What about God? He didn’t need a machine to see right through her.

I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind.

James Obida was dark and tall with an athletic physique that exuded physical energy. His dark, piercing eyes revealed keen intelligence that seemed to see through to one’s psyche. For Daniela, this was his most admirable charm. His eyes were like an abyss, leading to the two distinctive chambers of his heart and his mind, a dichotomy she liked to imagine. She could walk through his eyes with her own and reach his heart, a private activity she dreaded yet found irresistible. His heart, passionate and sensitive, made them kindred spirits. But to his mind, she’d rather not travel.

James worked with the Criminal Investigation Division of the Nigerian Police Force as a deputy commissioner in charge of investigation. The young DC was his nickname among proud friends. He was regarded as a highly intelligent, top-notch detective and worked hand-in-hand with the State Security Service as a secret agent to the presidency.

In the depth of those eyes of his lay deadly secrets. His mind, powerful and intimidating, must remain private. She didn’t wish to know what he knew.

James had been friends with Joshua for some time and had been to their home, but she became closely drawn to him only two years ago. He had walked up to her the first evening of their church’s annual women’s week. His wife needed help, he’d confided. She had gone home that night, thinking what a nice guy he was and wondering why his wife couldn’t appreciate it.

After meeting with Patricia, it was clear the woman needed mentoring, which Daniela offered and Patricia accepted excitedly. She had invited the couple to the Williams’ Bible study fellowship. Now the marriage had blossomed wonderfully, and James was thankful. He had shared with the group that Daniela had saved his marriage. His respect for her was obvious and sincere. But she began to read in his looks more than just respect.

James took her out for lunch once to celebrate the Lord’s victory in my marriage, he had said. They had shared a rich lunch with a fantastic wine that afternoon, but their conversation had nothing to do with his marriage. It was more a celebration of the newly found relationship between them.

Now she couldn’t ignore James as a person.

Come on, girl. Face it. You are infatuated and don’t need anyone to interpret it for you. You must decide what to do about it now.

Oh, maybe so, she conceded reluctantly.

She could almost hear her mother chiding, Daniela, you have been taught better than that, child.

Well, she would think about it, she decided.

Chapter 2

Dinner had just been served, and sitting in semidarkness, everyone ate their food in grim silence. Electric power had been out for five days, and there was no money to reload the newly installed prepaid meter. The single candle in the center of the thick black dining table barely lit the small living room. Miriam couldn’t afford the luxury of lighting two candles at a time. Kim’s tennis ball had smashed the only kerosene lamp, breaking its globe. Kerosene was far more expensive than a single candle anyway. The little yellow flame danced unevenly like a young masquerade learning a juju dance, giving brief bows in different directions depending on where the quiet air blew. The three silhouetted figures cast against the wall danced impulsively along with the flame. Miriam watched blindly without paying attention.

Outside, the sounds of electric generators popularly called I-pass-my-neighbor could be heard against the noise of moving vehicles, playing children, and barking dogs. There was a power outage from PHCN, which people still called NEPA, and every house in the quarters, now in darkness, prepaid meter or not, was forced to improvise a means of lighting their homes for the moment.

Kim suddenly broke the silence. Ngo, you said you didn’t have money. Where did you get the money to buy this food?

God provided, my dear, said Miriam.

How did he provide? Did he come to our house?

Not exactly. He provided through someone.

So why won’t he provide me a new school bag through someone?

Well, why not ask him—through prayers, of course—to do that?

Did you ask him to provide for our food, Ngo?

Yes. And you see, he has provided. Now keep quiet and eat your food so you don’t choke.

But he didn’t provide meat! Kim exploded, ready to throw a tantrum. "It is the borest rice I’ve ever, ever eaten."

Shut up and eat, you spoiled brat, Pam barked. What do you know?

Pam, you didn’t have to insult him, Miriam objected.

But why is he asking such silly questions?

He didn’t ask you, so I should suppose this is none of your business. Besides, he is only a child. These silly questions mean so much to him.

Silence resumed, and mouths continued chewing. But Miriam’s heart wouldn’t be silenced. It began to list her many woes. Did God really provide this meal? Did you not have to borrow some money from Natasha of all people? And you only have five hundred naira left, barely enough to add fuel to the car, let alone provide for tomorrow’s meal.

Quickly, she shut her mind, taking a deep breath and exhaling noisily to snuff out the disorienting thought. But the thought wouldn’t budge.

And Pam has to resume school by Monday. Now how are you going to produce that money? Will you not just admit that God is punishing you for your sin?

A painful lump rose in her throat, almost choking her. She opened her mouth and drew in air to ease the searing pain, her eyes filling with sudden tears of self-pity. No! she almost said aloud. No, I’m sure God has forgiven me. Challenges are a normal part of life, she argued in a vain attempt to comfort herself. But perhaps her suffering would serve as a guilt offering to God, she thought. When she’d suffered enough, he would forgive her if he hadn’t already.

Miriam Akims was particularly forlorn tonight. It had been precisely four years and ten months since she had become a widow. Teye had died of leukemia a year after Kim was born. Initially, so many people cared, and she was fortunate that her belongings were not confiscated by her deceased husband’s family. She inherited everything, and the two years that followed were easy.

Gradually, help stopped except from one family. Then two years back, she’d had to cut ties with that source because of an ugly development she didn’t want to think about. Things began to fall apart and were now unbearably out of hand. Pam and Dorcas, her two eldest children, were in the university. Now Pam was home because he couldn’t pay tuition. Somehow Dorcas had found a way to fend for herself, and Miriam was thankful. Nerat and Dashan, the next two, were in a boarding school in Jos. Kim, the last, had come as a surprise. He’d been unplanned, but he was now Miriam’s only source of joy and the main reason she clung to hope. He was just five and in primary one.

Feeding them was a struggle, not to mention providing new clothes and other conveniences like electricity. Miriam’s wardrobe was enormous and still fashionable, but she worried about her children. The last three were constantly outgrowing their clothes. Her salary went into school fees, food, and secondhand clothes for the three youngest.

But Miriam owned their house. It was government residential quarters that had been auctioned, so she was able to buy it with the help of that family with whom she had parted ways. They had given her half of the money. Now she didn’t have to worry about rent. Teye had built a big house in the village, but that was of no use since she wasn’t thinking of relocating anytime soon. Besides, his brothers lived in it. Selling it was out of the question. It was her boys’ only inheritance from their father.

Suddenly she had no appetite. She pulled herself to her feet and shuffled into the dark kitchen. Dropping the half-eaten plate of jollof rice in the sink, she entered her bedroom and shut the world behind her.

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Pam knew his mother was upset. He hated Kim for starting the whole stupid squabble and hated himself more for coming home. He wished he could fend for himself. He was twenty-one, old enough, but how could he break out on his own in this godforsaken country without government loans or scholarships for the likes of him? Jobs were as scarce as eclipses, even for first-class graduates. One was either an in-service student, owned a personal business, or depended on someone else for tuition and upkeep. His attempts at selling cell phone recharge cards were smothered by friends and neighbors who only survived on debt.

Earlier it wasn’t this challenging, not until Ngo shunned the one person who cared the most and began acting curiously. He still remembered clearly a night about two years ago when she returned after midnight. Someone had dropped her off by the veranda. She had told him earlier that morning that she would stop somewhere after closing from work, and so she didn’t use her car. But he didn’t expect that she would be gone for so long. He was so anxious he couldn’t sleep. He recalled her brisk steps as she walked through the front door, fastening the deadbolt behind quickly as if someone was after her. In seconds, she was in her bedroom, locking the door. That was also unusual.

To make things worse, Pam heard his mother crying as if her heart would break. Not even at his father’s funeral did he remember her crying that much. He ran to her door and knocked gently. The crying ceased, and an angry voice barked, Who is there?

It’s me, Ngo. Pam.

And what do you want?

I … I … I just thought … uh— Can I help you? Is anything wrong?

No, don’t worry, she’d said more calmly but firmly. Just go to bed.

He had turned, disturbed, and wobbled back to his room, and he never heard her cry again. But from then on, the light within his mother had died. Sadness had taken permanent residence on her pretty face, and she looked like she’d aged overnight. She became more committed to church and made a new group of friends she called widow’s fellowship. But her sadness remained. She became too sensitive and suspicious like someone desperately trying to hide a fatal wound with very little success.

Chapter 3

Patricia broke off a piece of cookie and was about to throw it into her mouth when a thought halted her. But the fruit of the spirit is … self-control.

She stopped short.

Well, just this one time, I promise, she said and began chewing.

She shifted her weight to one leg as she scraped the crumbs off the greasy surface of the cookie pan. Then she carefully placed a fresh batch of brown dough in the oven.

The young morning sun was promising heat that would bake the city—people, plants, everything. A narrow ray slanted into the small kitchen through its only window, casting a yellow streak over the counter. Already she was beginning to melt into sweat in spite of her plan to bake early before the sun was high.

Patricia Obida was struggling with weight. Maybe 120 kilos wasn’t too bad. She’d dropped five kilos and was still celebrating her victory. Her shapely legs gave her an upright stance in spite of her bulk, and she decided that James should be content with that. She was by no means an ugly woman.

A two-colored weave of black and gold was on her head, and her manicured nails were adorned with a reddish pink nail polish. The yellow linen buba gown with spaghetti sleeves she wore was roomy enough for her mass and cool besides.

By now she was half full from the cookies. Goodness, would she ever achieve self-control? She ate a good amount of her cooking before serving it to her family, and for that reason, weight control remained a distant dream. Greed and gluttony had been life companions. When she attended receptions, she scrambled for more food than everyone else. In the past she didn’t care about this habit just like she never cared about anything in her life. But recently, her conscience had been quickened, and she worried a lot about it. She’d done some studies on the acts of the sinful nature versus the fruit of the Spirit. You can’t miss greed in the former and self-control in the latter.

Daniela is never like this, or is she? she said mockingly and cursed beneath her breath. Talking about Daniela, well, that had been a phenomenon in that house for only God knew how long. She’d been approved or condemned based on what Daniela would say or do. Since she confronted James about it, he’d not mentioned Daniela by name, but his attitude spoke louder than his voice saying that his wife wasn’t yet good enough.

She remembered, two days ago at the Williams, how he had fawned over Daniela from the moment she stepped into the room. James was very eager for the meeting and pensive throughout until the Umars arrived. His hand had held to Daniela’s and lingered longer than civility required until the woman was embarrassed.

"Daniela