The price tag

‘How did I do what?’ she responded, looking up at me.‘You obviously got your husband to agree to the ministerial appointment otherwise we wouldn’t have gone ahead with this send-forth reception. But how did you manage to convince him? I remember you being distinctly worried and full of misgivings about confronting him over the appointment.’ […]

‘How did I do what?’ she responded, looking up at me.
‘You obviously got your husband to agree to the ministerial appointment otherwise we wouldn’t have gone ahead with this send-forth reception. But how did you manage to convince him? I remember you being distinctly worried and full of misgivings about confronting him over the appointment.’ I explained.
‘Yes, I was. And you’d recall that I also assured you I believe in miracles and so will pray for one. Anyway, on the morning of his return I sent him a text wishing him a safe journey and telling him about the appointment, you know, just to prepare him before we meet.
But to my great surprise, he simply replied thus ‘Yes, so I heard.’ I almost wrote to ask how he got to hear about it but remembered that there are many ways for him to know, including through his wives.
So I held my peace and waited for him to arrive. Unfortunately it was not my turn to host him the day he returned, so I had to wait again till the following morning, when he came to say hello, before we discussed. I didn’t beat around the bush because I had spent the whole night worrying over it. By morning I had decided to give myself a serious pep talk to straighten out my nerves.
I told myself that I didn’t do anything wrong by being appointed a minister. In fact I had nothing to do with it because I neither lobbied nor applied for it. I reminded myself that I was nominated entirely on merit, because I was an achiever and a goldfish has no hiding place. With this pep talk firmly in mind, I got ready to meet my husband.
He came in around 10am and I rushed to hug him the way I always did whenever he returned from a trip. He held me stiffly, as if he wasn’t happy with the warm welcome. There and then I began to feel discouraged. I wondered what I’d have done if he was the one appointed minister. I’m sure I would give him a great hug, congratulate him profusely and start making immediate preparations to celebrate what I’d consider a great achievement. But you need to see his lackluster attitude towards mine.’ She complained.
‘Perhaps he was just tired, you know how exhausting foreign trips can be.’ I offered.
‘No, that is not it. He just wasn’t keen on the idea of my new job and wasn’t ready to hide it. The other day, I’d told you how he stood between me and my legitimate aspirations in the past, I’m not about to nurse the romantic notion that he has now changed. But since I had resolved to confront him with the issue of my appointment, I went straight ahead to bring it up.
‘I couldn’t wait for you to return since my appointment was confirmed.’ I said.
‘Yes, it’s amazing how everything happened while I was away. I mean I had only been gone a week, but in that time you had been nominated, screened and confirmed, it’s almost too good to be true. We are not used to things being done so speedily in this country.’ He observed, removing his cap as reclines on his favourite chair.
‘’That may be because there are only two of us to be screened. It wasn’t a major cabinet reshuffle, it’s just a move to replace two ministers who left to seek elective posts.’ I explained.
‘I see’ Manzo replied, simply. Still no “congrats”, I wondered.  And no prayer to wish me luck in the discharge of my duties? While I waited, hoping for either action to dispel my worries, he suddenly turned to face me.
‘You know your appointment is going to affect all of us in this family. It will affect our schedules because your movement to Abuja will influence the time I spend with the three of you.’ He stated.
‘Yes, it’s a good thing none of children is at home. Since three are in the university and two are in boarding school, I can leave knowing that no one really needs me around here.’ I quickly pointed out.
‘But that’s only what you think. I need you here and you also know that your place is with me, since we are married. However, I will not be so selfish as to stop you from going, though it will come as a great inconvenience to me. But we can change the whole thing into something advantageous for the family.’ He declared.
‘How do you mean?’ I asked. And before he replied me, he brought out a file he came with, which I didn’t notice earlier.
‘These are the documents for a company I registered early this year. I registered it with the hope to start an import-export business as soon as I retire from the bank, in a few years from now. My original plan was not to start anything with it before my retirement but now that you’ve got this appointment as minister, I think we can activate the company and start work immediately.’ Manzo explained.
‘But I can’t cope with being a federal minister and starting up your new company. I don’t think I will find either enough time or strength to do both.’ I protested.
‘No, you aren’t going to start up my company.’ He replied, smiling for the first time since he stepped into the house. ‘You are going to help the company grow through your position as minister. You will use the influence of your office to help the company.’ He explained.
‘But how?’ I still enquired.
‘Oh Sabira, you can’t be that naïve. I mean, being in the four walls of the campus doesn’t mean you don’t know that ministers have
portfolios that enable them to have big budgets and as such they give out contracts, does it? So we are an import-export company, give us lucrative contracts, let us buy all the major farming implements and technological gadgets you need to revolutionise the agric sector in Nigeria. And we will bring you the best and it will be a win-win situation for all of us.’ He argued passionately.
‘Oh I see, but you do know that giving out contracts is not a decision the minister takes alone, nor does the buck stop at my table. I can’t start making promises I can’t deliver darling, I have bosses who I’m sure will ultimately decide what goes where. And there is the bidding process too. From the little I know about these things, you will need to bid for a contract in order to get it.’ I answered.
‘Yes but those are all formalities Sabira. A minister is so influential, you can decide where all the contracts go if you wish.
You will find that out once you get there. just remember that when you help this company to grow you are securing your children’s future because by the time I retire, I will need help with paying your children’s foreign university bills and the junior ones’ school fees.
So the time to decide if you want to bail us out is now.’
And with that he handed me the envelope with his company’s documents and said he was still tired from his trip so will return to wife number 3’s house, where he’s being hosted, to sleep. I collected the envelope and bade him farewell. The moment he left I looked through the envelope and said to myself so this is the price I have to pay for being allowed to serve my country as a federal minister. There and then I resolved to work sincerely, without corruption.
I will help his company only if it bids fairly and wins in the process, otherwise I won’t stick my neck out and encourage corruption through nepotism. And this is the story of how I got the green light to go to Abuja for my new post.’ Professor Sabira concluded, smiling.
‘Well, congrats once again and may Almighty Allah strengthen your resolve to remain sincere and corrupt-free. The wives of the Companions of Prophet Muhammad, SAW, used to advise their husbands to work honestly and bring home to them only what was lawfully earned.
One would have expected the same from our husbands today, yet yours can only see how to benefit from your work not how to save you from hell-fire.’ I observed sadly.
‘Yes, that is how I feel Bint. Imagine putting a price tag on permitting me to serve my country. Maybe failure to do that will cost me this marriage, don’t you think?’ Sabira wondered aloud.
‘No, it won’t ever come to that Sabira, in sha Allah, it won’t.’ I said assuringly, squeezing her hand.