Oku Enu

Photo credit: jstoor daily

“Oku enu” was a term used in the early days in the eastern part of Nigeria to describe those spinsters who in people’s opinions refused to get married. They were usually successful in their careers and lived by themselves. At a time when it was a crime for an unmarried lady to live all by herself; the belief was that men would be too scared to approach such a woman to ask for her hand in marriage.

Indeed, young men were scared of such women and the only ones brave enough to woo them were the philandering married men. There were a few of such women those days and I remember mother’s tenant, “aunty Ngozi”, I think she was a banker and lived in a three-bedroom flat all by herself. I learned the word spinster because of her. Anytime anyone described her, she was referred to as “the spinster’ or “oku enu”. This phrase literally means a fire that burns up (whatever that means).

People were judgmental in those days and looking back now, such women were those who were bold enough to defy the norms and live life as it presented itself. They were accused of not wanting to get married and the question now is how would they have gotten married if there was no proposal from a man in the first place? There are lots of oku enus in this generation and I giggle at how mothers that lived in those days would feel right now.

Aunty Ngozi owned her status and seemed unperturbed by what anybody thought about her. She had a driver and wore the finest clothes and very high heels. Such women did not easily get accommodations rented to them because it was believed that they would bring men to their homes and consequently be a bad influence on the younger girls especially the landlord’s daughters.

 Mother was different and it was never a problem to her that a spinster lived on her property, she wasn’t spared by the hypocrites who felt it was unchristian to rent a home to an ungodly person and they gossiped about mother. Aunty Ngozi also did not help matters by the way she carried herself; she was ebony black and above average in height, she had big bold eyes, soft baby curls hair and spoke impeccable English. She walked with her head held up which made her nose point up towards the skies. She moved rhythmically which made her buttocks roll in a coordinated tempo.

She made it even worse by being a snob, she hardly spoke to people and you could tell that she considered every other person illiterate and beneath her, however, she showed mother respect which was visibly out of an obligation as her landlady. We did not know her that well because she never opened up to anyone that much and stayed indoors anytime she was home, but she came across as someone from a well-to-do and enlightened background.

 At some point, her brother Byron came to live with her; Byron was such a good-looking guy and a lot of young girls would give anything to be at his beck and call. Byron was exactly like his sister, he left all the girls wanting for more, he never spoke to any girl that I know of. He was quite hairy and had curly sideburns, he surely left the ladies drooling over him. I was quite young and in Primary school, but my antennas were quite high and I was aware of everything that happened around me, mother called me inquisitive, my siblings called me amebo.

 I secretly admired aunty Ngozi, she was beautiful, confident, well-spoken, and successful but I never saw her smile. That made me wonder if what was said of spinsters was true. They were said to be unhappy and frustrated which translated to wickedness. I was not much of a greeter but she tormented me so much that with her, I never forgot to greet. A few times, she reminded me harshly to greet, “hey, you greet your elders when you see them, that is what you do” was how she always spoke to me and so after about two encounters, I never forgot. Her attitude towards me did not stop my admiration of her and I was in awe of her most of the time. I once heard mother describe her as elegant and she truly was an epitome of elegance.

To a large extent, aunty Ngozi lived a very decent life and I do not remember any man ever coming to visit her, she only went to work and back. On the weekends, she dressed casually, and it seemed like she went to the Sports club in Enugu and ran errands for her home. She drove herself on the weekends and that was another catalytic behaviour; she was unmarried, lived by herself, paid her bills, owned a car, and even drove herself. She gave people a lot to talk about but not the privilege of knowing her significant other. If she ever did, she was smartly discreet about it.

 

My admiration for aunty Ngozi never stopped till an unforgettable encounter with her, I was walking down the stairs and got to the front of her flat just as she made it up the stairs to her door. we were at her door at the same time, I greeted her and continued to move but she stopped me with a hush and a hand gesture, she did not stop at that, she asked me to go back and said I was rude, she went on to say that I should wait for an elder to pass before I did, she made me wait for her to unlock her door and go into her flat before I continued on my way.

 

I found that incident very hateful because there was enough space for us at the same time, and even if she was right, she was condescending.  I struggled as a child to understand why she humiliated me in that manner on my mother’s property. I never mentioned it to anyone but after that day, she lost all her beauty in my eyes. I began to see her for who she was, a frustrated “oku enu”.

I wonder where aunty Ngozi is, she should be in her late sixties now and I will love to know if she is still an “Oku Enu”.