Every night through the seasons, Adindu's compound would be serene as a lagoon, dark as the night skies only to be interrupted at intervals by the hooting of the owl that often positioned itself on the mango tree at the rear end of the compound and Adindu's ever nocturnal creaking bed. The bed that had produced his fifteen children and served with total loyalty as his three wives love cradle. Each morning after 'the creaking bed escapades,' he would trot out of his compound, whistling with a leer in his face and his pot-belly right before his stout body. His fair skin tone and handsome face would have been the bait with which he caught his wives who often turned his compound to a wrestling ground. Adindu was sweet-mouthed. A skill he used effortlessly. His creaking iron-spring bed was to be warmed up through the week by Hauwa. She was a beauty to behold. A northern goddess. Her white gap-toothed dentition made her her endearing. Her coco-like toned skin gl...