My Dissolute Husband (FromEmile KAHOUN, Lycée Yadéga)
“ A woman’s brains lie between her legs, not in her head”, my mother advised me in her last letter before I embarked on this marriage which today has consumed me.
It was on a cool December evening when Patrick and I met. We met in Kenya. I come from the Muslim community of Botswana. Patrick is from Nigeria. My parents call me Fatimah. I was aged 30 and had left my parents to come to Kenya on vocation. I was very happy because like any other woman of my age, I had looked forward to meeting the man of my dream.
After our first meeting, we continually met and revealed to each other our hope, passion, past and ambition. Patrick was ambitious. Patrick was a business man. I think it was after about two weeks of our meeting that Patrick and I had an affair. That was my first experience and he was surprised to find out that a woman of my age could be virgin. In my community, a girl becomes an outcast and ex-communicated , and hardly find any man to marry her if she has not her virginity. Sex was taught to us as a means of re-procreation. I made Patrick know all these about my people’s creed that I love him before making love with him. He agreed that we become husband and wife.
I followed him to Nigeria, precisely Ibadan, and we got married there. In the fourth year of our marriage, we had a baby-boy . I was a full time housewife and I administered the home. Patrick worked for money. Our child was six months old when Patrick became mediocrity and degenerate. What I did not know was whether Patrick was dissolute as when he married me. Had my husband succeeded in being a mere personification in the four years we were together and had grown tired of his false being and then revealed his real colour? One thing that I now remember is that Patrick never took me to see any of his relations and none visited us in the period that we were together. Without remorse he stopped himself from work and engaged himself in a secret debauch. He started smoking and I started having worries. Worries about money, about our child, my husband’s change of attitude. One day I found him on affair with the neighbour’s housemaid . I packed from our matrimonial home with our child and sought refuge in the embassy of my country. I went back to Botswana. Now I am in love with the colleague of a teacher . I took this decision without remorse but I have a heavy conscience today. It is occurring to me now that my husband needed help and I should have sat down to help him instead of deserting him. Have I not myself failed in my duty as a housewife? What will I tell our child now that he is growing to the age of reason? Have I not myself become xxxxx by deserting my matrimonial home and getting into love affair with another man? I have written several letters to Patrick but no response, and I have not heard anything of him since. Now I want Mohammed to meet his father. The piece of writing may be taken as an appeal to anyone who the whereabouts of Patrick. I am a distressed woman. Dear readers, what would be your line of action if you were me? Fellow women have we any moral right to pass judgement on our husband, or for that matter, our fellow human being?
VOCABULARY
Dissolute: débauche;
Housemaid: femme de ménage; outcast: bani
QUESTIONS
1. Explain “ a woman’s brains lie between her legs , not in her head”, according to the text.
2. In Fatimah’s community, a girl becomes an outcast and hardly finds any man to marry her if she’s not virgin. Discuss this matter.
3. Did the couple come from the same country? Explain why?
4. Why did the woman pack from her husband’s home?
5. What was she complaining about? Was she right? What do you think of both Fatimah and Patrick?
TRANSLATION
Translate into French from “ I packed…………..on our fellow human being ?”
“ A woman’s brains lie between her legs, not in her head”, my mother advised me in her last letter before I embarked on this marriage which today has consumed me.
It was on a cool December evening when Patrick and I met. We met in Kenya. I come from the Muslim community of Botswana. Patrick is from Nigeria. My parents call me Fatimah. I was aged 30 and had left my parents to come to Kenya on vocation. I was very happy because like any other woman of my age, I had looked forward to meeting the man of my dream.
After our first meeting, we continually met and revealed to each other our hope, passion, past and ambition. Patrick was ambitious. Patrick was a business man. I think it was after about two weeks of our meeting that Patrick and I had an affair. That was my first experience and he was surprised to find out that a woman of my age could be virgin. In my community, a girl becomes an outcast and ex-communicated , and hardly find any man to marry her if she has not her virginity. Sex was taught to us as a means of re-procreation. I made Patrick know all these about my people’s creed that I love him before making love with him. He agreed that we become husband and wife.
I followed him to Nigeria, precisely Ibadan, and we got married there. In the fourth year of our marriage, we had a baby-boy . I was a full time housewife and I administered the home. Patrick worked for money. Our child was six months old when Patrick became mediocrity and degenerate. What I did not know was whether Patrick was dissolute as when he married me. Had my husband succeeded in being a mere personification in the four years we were together and had grown tired of his false being and then revealed his real colour? One thing that I now remember is that Patrick never took me to see any of his relations and none visited us in the period that we were together. Without remorse he stopped himself from work and engaged himself in a secret debauch. He started smoking and I started having worries. Worries about money, about our child, my husband’s change of attitude. One day I found him on affair with the neighbour’s housemaid . I packed from our matrimonial home with our child and sought refuge in the embassy of my country. I went back to Botswana. Now I am in love with the colleague of a teacher . I took this decision without remorse but I have a heavy conscience today. It is occurring to me now that my husband needed help and I should have sat down to help him instead of deserting him. Have I not myself failed in my duty as a housewife? What will I tell our child now that he is growing to the age of reason? Have I not myself become xxxxx by deserting my matrimonial home and getting into love affair with another man? I have written several letters to Patrick but no response, and I have not heard anything of him since. Now I want Mohammed to meet his father. The piece of writing may be taken as an appeal to anyone who the whereabouts of Patrick. I am a distressed woman. Dear readers, what would be your line of action if you were me? Fellow women have we any moral right to pass judgement on our husband, or for that matter, our fellow human being?
VOCABULARY
Dissolute: débauche;
Housemaid: femme de ménage; outcast: bani
QUESTIONS
1. Explain “ a woman’s brains lie between her legs , not in her head”, according to the text.
2. In Fatimah’s community, a girl becomes an outcast and hardly finds any man to marry her if she’s not virgin. Discuss this matter.
3. Did the couple come from the same country? Explain why?
4. Why did the woman pack from her husband’s home?
5. What was she complaining about? Was she right? What do you think of both Fatimah and Patrick?
TRANSLATION
Translate into French from “ I packed…………..on our fellow human being ?”