THE GREENER GRASS FROM THE OTHER SIDE.
"Biyi hasn't worked for that long?" Dupe's voice drips with resentment. "For real?" "He's been trying," I say in feeble attempt to defend my husband. "You know how the economy is." My husband and I had vowed never to bring in a third party into our relationship but with a bank account screaming for revival, I need to share my burden with someone else. I grip the phone. Dupe is unusually quiet. "You still there?" I asked. "Hello?" "I am here," she says. "I just didn't know things were this bad. And all this while, I thought Biyi was providing for the home." “But he is,” I argue silently. Well, maybe not financially for now, but in every way else, Biyi is a rock. "It's not that bad." My words sound frail. Dupe clucks her tongue. "You might as well be a widow." The words hit me like a fist. "Na you I blame," she continues, oblivious to the damage her words...