The lonely women of Port Harcourt
By Reuben Abati

SOME kind of graveyard peace is said to have returned to the streets of Port Harcourt, the once-attractive city which has now been turned into a killing field by rival cult groups. Matters came to a head two weeks ago when the entire city was shut down with guns booming in the air, death on the streets, panic in the hearts of men. The Federal Government, short of declaring a state of emergency, sent a joint patrol task force comprising soldiers, policemen and other security agents to take over the city.

On August 18, a frazzled state government imposed a one-week dusk to dawn curfew on the community. It also felt obliged to extend the curfew by another week. Except there is any further extension, the curfew is supposed to end on Saturday, that is tomorrow. But if the Vanguard newspaper is to be believed, "married women in Port Harcourt would prefer that the government continues with the curfew till next month." This is said to be the result of a "random investigation" conducted by the newspaper. The editors of Vanguard liked the story so much (or is this simply a case of repetition?) that they reproduced the story, written by George Onah, Port Harcourt Correspondent, in two editions: Sunday, August 26, p.5 and Monday, August 27, p.16 namely: "Port Harcourt housewives count curfew's blessings", and "Curfew: Port Harcourt women count blessings".

The story offers a light-hearted dimension to what is an otherwise sad and pathetic episode in the lives of Port Harcourt residents, but it is interesting as a gender analysis of the conflict situation in Port Harcourt and the sociology of family life. Gender, in this context, being the socially constructed roles of men and women and the politics of their relationships. The gist of the report is that Port Harcourt housewives are happy, excited, indeed thankful that owing to the curfew, their husbands now spend more time at home in the evenings, and this has resulted in "improved family life". One Mrs. Eugenia Aguma who spoke her mind decanted as follows: "My husband used to have endless night meetings, emergency conferences and important dinner with his business partners everyday and the children rarely see him. But for one week now, the man has been watching television with us at home."

You can bet that Mrs. Aguma is not telling the entire story. Mr. Aguma must be doing more than watching television! But she draws attention to a major issue in marriage relationships in Nigeria. Newspaper counselling columns on family life and relationships, the type that the late Pastor Bimbo Odukoya raised to the level of an occupation, are full of stories about the agony of lonely Nigerian wives and scheming, irresponsible husbands who would rather spend more time chasing other skirts than stay at home with their wives. In those columns (Candida, Yours sincerely, Eve's World...), the Nigerian male is portrayed as an unrepentant philanderer and an absent-minded partner in the institution of marriage. Cultural practices such as polygamy and the patriarchal nature of society are further used to justify the peripatetic nature of the Nigerian husband.

This much-abused male is also often ready to defend himself on the ground that it is the responsibility of the man to go out of the home, hunt, gather resources and fortunes for the maintenance of the family. Nigerian men may ask: "Of what use, is the man who stays at home all the time with Madam, watching television and who is unable to put food on the table?" But another woman, in the Vanguard story is not impressed. Adanma Oforibika, a shop-keeper, says: "The curfew has revealed the secrets of my husband. His places now ring every minute at night and when I pick it, it is a female voice asking silly questions. If not for the curfew, he will tell me that he is working late and have some files to clear." Again, Mrs. Oforibika appears to be speaking not just for the lonely wives of Port Harcourt, but other Nigerian women across the country.

Since the introduction of mobile telephony, the phone has become a major factor in male-female relations in our society. Marriages have been compromised, or brought to a precipitate end by phone calls at odd hours from a faceless third party, or suggestive text messages which cannot be fully explained to the spouse. Many women also consider excuses of late night assignments in the office, as a routine alibi used by Nigerian husbands to cover up a few stolen hours spent in the company of another women.

Mrs. Martha Dokubo who is also quoted in the story, accuses her husband of complaining everyday of broken down vehicle or flat tyre or office assignments. Her words: "Oga journalist, you men are wonderful people, my husband sleeps out of his matrimonial home at least two or three times every month. In those nights, he will tell me oh! As I was about leaving, I had a flat tyre and there was no way I could move that late". These are really agony wives. They are trapped in unhappy relationships but because society expects them to remain married, they are struggling to make the best of a helpless situation.

It has taken the imposition of a two-week curfew for many of these wives to enjoy the pleasure of "an improved married life". Hence, Iboroma Michael, a secondary school teacher in Port Harcourt, announces that "the curfew has helped several homes to rediscover themselves." But what if there was no crisis in Port Harcourt in the first place? What if a curfew was not declared? The only expression of regret by a woman in the story is the voice of a single lady, a job-seeker, who says the curfew has taken away her boyfriend. Her boyfriend is probably one of those married men who are now observing the "sit-at-home" rule, watching television with the children and paying more attention to Madam. And Chibuzor Okafor is angry: "The curfew per se", she says "has brought ill luck to me because I rarely see my boyfriend these days. When I return from scouting for a job I expect somebody to be by me to console me for my misfortune but he is never there anymore. Before you know it, he has reminded you of the curfew and taken off."

But Chibuzor's agony may be short-lived. As soon as the curfew is lifted, she can expect her boyfriend by her side. And poor, lonely married women of Port Harcourt: there is no guarantee that their husbands would not return to their old ways and tell the same old stories. The curfew therefore has become like a shot of alcohol for those desperate wives. But they would need more than the forced imprisonment induced by curfew to keep their husbands at home and gain their attention. The tension in family life, the gap in marital relationships, is one of the key sources of frustration in our society. There are many women out there who are complaining that Nigerian men are not romantic enough.

But The Vanguard reporter interviewed only the unhappy women of Port Harcourt. He did not bother to speak to the much maligned men. Are they happy to be at home? Or would they rather be out on the streets after 7 p.m? Are there men who are also complaining about possessive and nagging wives? Faithful, dutiful husbands are probably in the majority in Port Harcourt - the ones who do not receive suspicious phone calls at night, who return home early to eat dinner and watch television and whose wives are having the best time of their lives, without a complaint in the world; men who can be trusted.

But in the politics of gender, complaints are often louder than the happy stories. In the meantime, there can only be one clear indication to the story of the Port Harcourt housewives, the nature of which would be clearer in nine months from now. It would be interesting then to monitor and check if there would be a sudden rise in the population or the number of children bearing the name CURFEW, particularly among the Ijaws, who like the Chinese, are fond of giving their children all kinds of strange names (CELTEL, Conference, Summit, Television, NADECO, Refinery, Fine Girl, Bom Boy, Public Holiday, Bicycle, Vote, Election, Seminar). One Ijaw guy answers the name: Polytechnic!

The Vanguard story may have drawn attention to a comfortable aspect of the crisis in Port Harcourt and the effect on women. What is overlooked is the simple truth that women are often cast in the role of victims in conflict situations. And the women of Port Harcourt have been more of victims, rather than coping and surviving actors, in the sordid drama of the uprootedness of that city.

The women of Port Harcourt have had to bear the brunt of the present conflict. Those gangsters in the 103-cults in Rivers state causing death and mayhem are the children of some women, husbands and fathers as well. They place the women in their lives under undue pressure. And the women who are no relations of cultists are not necessarily luckier. In the course of the conflict women have been raped, harassed and molested. One soldier was said to have taken a look at a well-endowed woman and warned her to stop going up and down with her tempting body or else...

During the crisis in Odi in November 1999, women were raped in the open by Federal soldiers. In Port Harcourt, women live under constant fear that their children could be kidnapped on the way to school by ransom-seeking hooligans. The story of Mrs. Oluchi Hill, the mother of Margaret Hill, the young Nigerian-British girl who was kidnapped in July is representative. She got her daughter back, but her husband is now dead. Margaret Hill was kidnapped at the time her father was supposed to travel abroad for medical check up. He had to postpone the trip until his daughter was found and it became too late. Now, Mrs. Oluchi Hill has to fend for herself and her daughter, both women are alone, victims of a crazy society.

The women in Port Harcourt who are complaining about absentee husbands who have now been brought home by curfew, are perhaps being selfish, with an accent on their reproductive role. Women in conflict situations can play a far more constructive role. The strategic long-term interest of both men and women in Port Harcourt should be to contribute to the search for peace.

The leaders and architects of the crisis are known; Chief E.K Clark and other Ijaw leaders have said that much and names have been made available to the authorities. Government must find the courage to act by bringing those authors of violence to book. Should the curfew in Port Harcourt be extended because of the housewives' request? Reducing the crisis to the agony of housewives would miss the point.

Robot  # 1 | 31.08.2007 05:01

The lonely women of Port Harcourt By Reuben Abati...Read the full article.

IZONERE  # 2 | 31.08.2007 05:31

But in the politics of gender, complaints are often louder than the happy stories. In the meantime, there can only be one clear indication to the story of the Port Harcourt housewives, the nature of which would be clearer in nine months from now. It would be interesting then to monitor and check if there would be a sudden rise in the population or the number of children bearing the name CURFEW, particularly among the Ijaws, who like the Chinese, are fond of giving their children all kinds of strange names (CELTEL, Conference, Summit, Television, NADECO, Refinery, Fine Girl, Bom Boy, Public Holiday, Bicycle, Vote, Election, Seminar). One Ijaw guy answers the name: Polytechnic! Oga Abati, mind yasef oh!! Why you dey yab us like dis? I no know anybody wey get dose names wey you write for dere, oh! Well, actually I know only one Bicycle and one Seminar but you sure say you no make the other ones up? Abeg, leave us jare, we like am like dat! Na our own style be dat...we are unique!:p:p:lol:

dem  # 3 | 31.08.2007 08:02

"the Nigerian male is portrayed as an unrepentant philanderer and an absent-minded partner in the institution of marriage. Cultural practices such as polygamy and the patriarchal nature of society are further used to justify the peripatetic nature of the Nigerian husband." The above would appear to be true to a large extent. I cannot tell you the number of Nigerian big men (not exclusively politicians) that I have seen in London actively accompanied by 'other skirts'. Situation is about the same for diasporans. Only that our "activeness" is a bit curtailed because of the laws in the lands we dwell-in.

Auspicious  # 4 | 31.08.2007 09:24

=IZONERE;204060>But in the politics of gender, complaints are often louder than the happy stories. In the meantime, there can only be one clear indication to the story of the Port Harcourt housewives, the nature of which would be clearer in nine months from now. It would be interesting then to monitor and check if there would be a sudden rise in the population or the number of children bearing the name CURFEW, particularly among the Ijaws, who like the Chinese, are fond of giving their children all kinds of strange names (CELTEL, Conference, Summit, Television, NADECO, Refinery, Fine Girl, Bom Boy, Public Holiday, Bicycle, Vote, Election, Seminar). One Ijaw guy answers the name: Polytechnic! Oga Abati, mind yasef oh!! Why you dey yab us like dis? I no know anybody wey get dose names wey you write for dere, oh! Well, actually I know only one Bicycle and one Seminar but you sure say you no make the other ones up? Abeg, leave us jare, we like am like dat! Na our own style be dat...we are unique!:p:p:lol: LOL! Is this True? Auspicious.

Osibinaebi  # 5 | 31.08.2007 09:42

=IZONERE;204060>But in the politics of gender, complaints are often louder than the happy stories. In the meantime, there can only be one clear indication to the story of the Port Harcourt housewives, the nature of which would be clearer in nine months from now. It would be interesting then to monitor and check if there would be a sudden rise in the population or the number of children bearing the name CURFEW, particularly among the Ijaws, who like the Chinese, are fond of giving their children all kinds of strange names (CELTEL, Conference, Summit, Television, NADECO, Refinery, Fine Girl, Bom Boy, Public Holiday, Bicycle, Vote, Election, Seminar). One Ijaw guy answers the name: Polytechnic! Oga Abati, mind yasef oh!! Why you dey yab us like dis? I no know anybody wey get dose names wey you write for dere, oh! Well, actually I know only one Bicycle and one Seminar but you sure say you no make the other ones up? Abeg, leave us jare, we like am like dat! Na our own style be dat...we are unique!:p:p:lol: IZONERE, Me sef sabi my pal wey dey bear Refine(ry) and another one name na Holiday( But dem no put public join him own). Ofcourse Summit na my person person, So between me and Izonere, we sabi 5 out of the 13 Abati mentioned. Meanwhile many others like daddy, Sugar,President dey o!!!. make i stop here sha cos name ful ground berekete for izon land:D:D

JAGA-JAGA  # 6 | 31.08.2007 10:04

Abati, You are at it again. I will also like to add some other Ijaw names like, Authority-Iyanga, Crude-oil etc.... Well coming home to lonely PH women, this is a modern day experience for all women in Nigeria's urbanised society. You hardly meet their men at home before 10pm. Anyway, one elderly wise lady did tell me sometime ago that the reason why we have more young men involved with cultish activities and all manner of wickedness is that most of these children were not truly fathered by these women,s husband. Of course the reason is now becomimg obvious. So what you saw you reap period. The family values should be resurrected again to aviod this sort of experience in our country. Bye- bye-oh. I be una brother, JAGA-JAGA-:D:D:D

mamazee  # 7 | 31.08.2007 11:26

Reuben Abati no go kill person for dis village. I even know someone who bears Congratulations! There are others like Siddon Look, Dem go tire, the list is endless. it is said that the evrage ijaw man names his child after any of the ships that come in :cool: I guess these women probably wish the curfew would never end and who could blame them.

IZONERE  # 8 | 31.08.2007 11:47

LOL! Is this True? Auspicious. Ol boy, na true oh!!! I can name many more for you. Statesman, Nigeria, Malaria, Lokoja, Millionaire(he has completely lived up to his name), Salt-water & Fresh-water(twins), Captain, Seargent, Millenium. The list is endless, but don't laugh. Contrary to what people think, a lot of thought is put into these names and they are usually based upon circumstances surrounding the birth(or conception) of the child or the wishes and aspirations of the parents. Nigeria was born on October 1st, Lokoja's father travelled to Lokoja when his wife was in labour, Millionaire's parents wanted him to be a millionaire, and so on. :D We three mush.:p

Auspicious  # 9 | 31.08.2007 12:15

=IZONERE;204157>LOL! Is this True? Auspicious. Ol boy, na true oh!!! I can name many more for you. Statesman, Nigeria, Malaria, Lokoja, Millionaire(he has completely lived up to his name), Salt-water & Fresh-water(twins), Captain, Seargent, Millenium. The list is endless, but don't laugh. Contrary to what people think, a lot of thought is put into these names and they are usually based upon circumstances surrounding the birth(or conception) of the child or the wishes and aspirations of the parents. Nigeria was born on October 1st, Lokoja's father travelled to Lokoja when his wife was in labour, Millionaire's parents wanted him to be a millionaire, and so on. :D We three mush.:p WOW - LOL! That is interesting, Izonere.. I guess if my parents were Ijaw.. They would name me: Fineboy Auspicious (Surname) :wink::D:wink: Auspicious.

chiiroha  # 10 | 31.08.2007 12:47

=Auspicious;204163>WOW - LOL! That is interesting, Izonere.. I guess if my parents were Ijaw.. They would name me: Fineboy Auspicious (Surname) :wink::D:wink: Auspicious. yeah yeah... even if you say so yourself. we hear u....

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