Recently, I visited a business office in Lagos. While waiting to see my host, I found myself sharing the waiting room with two women. One, whom I shall call BH, appeared to be in her 50s.
We exchanged pleasantries and, as Nigerians are wont to do, soon found ourselves discussing leadership, politics and the state of the nation. The television in the waiting room was showing the news, so we had more than enough material to keep the conversation going. After all, in Nigeria, you don’t need to know someone for five minutes before discussing how to fix the country!
Then, quite unexpectedly, our conversation moved from Nigerian politics to food, marriage, infidelity and the wisdom that sometimes comes with age.
BH glanced at her wristwatch and complained that the delay in seeing the person she had come to visit was eating into her dinner time.
I checked my watch. It was about 4 p.m.
“Madam, isn’t it a little too early to be worrying about dinner?” I asked.
“Sir, for the past five years, I have been eating dinner at 5 p.m. I need to live a healthier life,” she responded confidently.
Another woman, KL, who was younger and equally waiting to see someone, joined the conversation.
“Five o’clock? Isn’t that too early for dinner? Won’t you be hungry before bedtime?”
“Not at all,” BH replied. “Initially, it wasn’t easy, but I disciplined myself. If I feel hungry later, I eat one apple about an hour before going to bed. That’s all.”
I was beginning to wonder whether my own dinner schedule needed a judicial review when KL asked another question.
“But what about your family? How do you manage preparing dinner for them?”
“I prepare dinner for my children, but not for my husband,” BH replied.
That caught our attention.
“Why not?” KL asked.
“Because, since we got married 25 years ago, my husband has always eaten his dinner at work, around 5 p.m. He usually gets home around 7 p.m.”
“Wow!” KL exclaimed softly.
“Yes, my sister,” BH continued, adjusting herself in her chair and looking directly into KL’s eyes. “In fact, that arrangement almost ruined our marriage.”
At this point, I had quietly retired from active participation in the conversation. I had become an interested spectator. Nigerian politics could wait. This was a more compelling story!
“I used to accuse my husband of infidelity,” BH continued. “I was convinced that he had a woman, or perhaps several women, somewhere cooking for him. In my mind, there was no other reasonable explanation for a married man who refused to eat dinner at home.”
KL listened intently.
“My husband explained repeatedly that he simply preferred eating early because he believed it was better for his health. He even asked me to prepare his meals and put them in a food warmer so he could take them to work. I did exactly that. But even then, I remained suspicious. I convinced myself that he was only pretending to eat my food while some girlfriend somewhere was feeding him.”
She shook her head.
“Can you imagine? The poor man would carry food from home, and I would still be imagining another woman serving him food somewhere!”
We laughed.
“But it wasn’t funny then,” she continued. “We quarrelled about it. I accused him repeatedly. He defended himself repeatedly. It created so much friction in our marriage. Looking back now, I realise how much unnecessary tension I brought into our home.”
She paused and took a sip of water.
I silently prayed that nobody would call me into the office just yet. I wanted to hear the end of this story.
“Then I grew older,” she continued. “I began experiencing some health challenges. My doctor advised me to make changes to my lifestyle, including what I ate, how much I ate and when I ate.”
She smiled.
“That was when I began to understand my husband. The very thing I had accused him of doing because of another woman was something I now needed to do for myself!”
There was a brief silence.
“For years, my husband had been paying attention to his health. I was busy paying attention to imaginary girlfriends!”
We laughed again, this time a little more thoughtfully.
“So what happened?” KL asked.
“I apologised to him,” BH replied. “I told him I was sorry for all those years of suspicion and accusations. He looked at me and asked, ‘What changed? Why do you suddenly understand something I have been explaining to you for years?'”
“And what did you tell him?” KL asked.
“I told him two things changed: age and health challenges. I had grown older, and my body had started teaching me lessons that my husband had tried to teach me years earlier.”
She smiled again.
“Sometimes, you don’t understand another person’s choices until life puts you in a position where you have to make similar choices yourself.”
That statement stayed with me.
KL nodded appreciatively.
“Thank you, ma, for sharing your story. I have learnt something today. Sometimes, we create problems in our relationships because we interpret everything through our own fears and suspicions. We may not understand why someone does something, but that doesn’t mean the person is doing something wrong.”
“Exactly!” BH responded.
And just as I was preparing to contribute my own closing argument, my name was called.
My host was ready to see me.
What terrible timing!
I thanked both women for the conversation and walked into the office, still thinking about what I had just heard.
How many relationships have suffered because one person mistook a difference in lifestyle for evidence of wrongdoing?
How many innocent actions have been interpreted as suspicious simply because they do not fit our own expectations?
And how many people have spent years defending themselves against accusations that existed only in the imagination of someone they loved?
Of course, infidelity exists. People betray trust. Suspicion is sometimes justified. But suspicion is not evidence, and imagination, no matter how convincing, is not proof.
There is also something remarkable about the lessons of ageing. As we grow older, our priorities often change. Things we once considered strange begin to make sense. Battles we once fought passionately become battles we wish we had never started.
And sometimes, life teaches us through personal experience what love, patience and explanation could not teach us years earlier.
I also thought about BH’s husband. For years, he apparently maintained his routine despite the accusations. He explained himself, offered compromises and continued doing what he believed was right for his health.
Perhaps there is a lesson there too: We do not always have to abandon what is good for us simply because someone else misunderstands it.
As for me, I left that waiting room with three reminders: take my health seriously, be careful about conclusions drawn without evidence, and never underestimate the wisdom that can come from a conversation with strangers.
And one more thing.
The next time a married man tells you he eats dinner at 5 p.m. outside his matrimonial home, please don’t immediately conclude that another woman is feeding him.
He may simply be trying to live long enough to enjoy his retirement!
Johnson Babalola is a Canada based lawyer. jblawyer2021@gmail.com
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