an Unpeaceful Purchase

He wielded the sledge hammer tightly enough that the sweat pores on his palm began to suffocate and his grip was loosening every passing second. Eshiwani had had enough. He waited long enough. He had looked at his precious television set with much pride. With much amazement of how he came to have one of those. After this night, he would revert to the very old radio set. That of which would not entangle his mind and twist him into the person he had now become. Because with an old radio, comes the detachment of embarrassment. To his kids and family.

***

Eshiwani’s wife looked from the doorstep with awe and a subdued smile as Eshiwani arrived from the electronics shop. It was not just any other day. Eshiwani had been surveying for a while now. Surveying the latest brand of television to go with the new house and the large empty sitting room that was so huge. Sometimes Eshiwani wished that he had bought the thing earlier. Because the echo of his thoughts bounced of his mind and onto the empty walls where the contractor had set aside for a large enough TV. At night when he was alone, he wondered whether his other friends were enjoying their TV sets. His friend had told him of how the large screens in his house were so large and clear that he could even see the football players sweating through their pores on live television. This made Eshiwani hasten his search. But now he had found a perfect one. A friend had recommended him to a store nearby where he managed to get Eshiwani a discount of three thousand shillings. That was a lot of money. At least for him. He thought he could do plenty with three thousand. Maybe buy some nyama choma and beer for his friends to celebrate his new status of owning his own flat screen. Or even buy something for his wife. Maybe those local cheap fifty-shillings earnings that he keeps seeing in the streets and that his wife loves. After all, she has been whining for a while that their anniversary was near and that she wanted some jewelry. That would suffice. 😄

As her wife, Vivy, watched from the doorstep, with their little five-year-old boy, Mitch lay within her grasp. Eshiwani struggled to pull that huge box out of the back seat of the vehicle. Vivy giggled a little and covered her mouth before Eshiwani could hear her. Mitch looked at her mother before turning back to his father.

“Look Mitch, you father brought us a new TV.” Mitch smiled with amazement at how big the thing was.

“You look like you need some help Esh!”

“No, I’m okay, I can handle it. “Well clearly he could handle it. He always handled things, heavy things around the house. But Vivy always asked her so that she could show him that she cared to ask. It was the way things worked. The way they rolled🤗.

Vivy could clearly see that things were sure to change. No longer was there to be that pin drop silence that bathed the entire evenings at their house. No longer was she going to have to bear the silent talks at the dinner table because they could now talk about the news that they watched. No longer was Mitch going to get bored with the old toys because now he could watch cartoons.

Eshiwani placed the TV on the stand that was already wiped off by Vivy. He delicately placed the device careful enough to break a sweat, that finally dropped off his temple when he was done. He aligned the screen in line with the couch that sat directly opposite. That night, they didn't watch television. It wasn't ‘ready yet’. Eshiwani said that they had to wait till tomorrow. 😒. While in bed, Vivy joked with Esh, telling him that he was carrying the TV like a baby. They laughed and tickled and teased each other, until they kissed each other passionately. After a while, they lay together, Vivy’s head on Esh’s chest, and smiled, looking at the darkness. They were so happy.

That night however, Mitch itched🖖. He couldn't sleep that night. He tried but he just couldn't seem to close his eyes. So he waited. He waited till after all the lights were out. Till after he heard dad stroll past his room and jump into bed, till after the noises from his parents’ room went silent. Till after the stillness of the night would take over the place. Now, he could get out of bed, and go to the sitting room. And look at the TV. And touch its glossy screen that shined brilliantly against the moonlight. He touched it, and felt its smooth edges. He remained there for a while, before he could hear the lights turn on in his parents’ bedroom, then he could go back, with stealth.

The TV was good for them. They could mingle and surround Eshiwani during the evenings, and he felt warm in their midst, watching news highlights and Churchill show. They laughed and laughed. And cuddled with Mitch in the middle. With a TV, they could see their house as complete.

It wasn't until Esh started to invite his friends over that he noticed that he didn't have live streaming games on his TV. It wasn't until he invited even more of his friends that they told him he was wasting the TV’s potential by not connecting it to the Internet. He started to wonder about these things. And a week later, he had connected DSTV premium HD with Zuku and Internet. He now felt complete. Now his friends couldn't tell him anything. They laughed with him. When they began watching matches with his pals, Eshiwani didn't notice that they had beer with them, and they drank off until the morning, when Vivy would wake them up with slaps on their bottoms. As his friends rushed out of the house, Esh laughed at their arrogance against his wife. But Vivy wasn't smiling. She started fearing. She started watching. She knew. She knew that he was falling away from her. But still she hoped, that it wouldn't spiral out of control.

But one day, Esh’s friends, Pato, whispered that it was time that his wife be chased to her room. Because they wanted to talk man matters. Eshiwani politely asked her to give them space. Then, Pato opened a webpage. Suddenly Esh felt his dick go hard, and he changed his seating posture. His friends laughed, wildly as they got excited.

“My friend, are you new to this things, 😆” Esh looked confused a bit. “How do you think we know how to fuck our wives until they get disciplined?” Their laughs broke out into the entire house, reverberating into every corner. They watched with curiosity, the bare images, in crystal clear HD and surround sound. In that space between them, the sex on the screen sounded so real. After the men left, Esh headed to bedroom, he wanted to feel his wife but she was asleep.

This went on for a few weeks, but no one told him. No one told him about the porn, about the excitement, about the rage, about the thirst. Until one night when he was alone, and he couldn't sleep and he turned on the website on the TV, and played one video. No one had warned him until his wife was woken up that night by the loudness of the sounds. She froze on the hallway, holding her hands on her mouth until he saw her. Eshiwani looked at her, for a moment, then went towards her. When he saw that she was moving away from him, he rushed towards her and grabbed her. She shouted for him to let her go but he tightened his grip around her, and stripped her. He forced his way into her like in the video. For the first time ever, he felt total control. Tears rolled from her eyes. Mitch watched, helplessly, from the doorstep of his room. Esh had become a demon. He was possessed. Vivy knew now that her hope was blinded, blinded by his lust for approval by his friends and by that wretched TV that had so brought the happiness.

That same night, when Esh was done with her, Vivy lay on the floor, shattered, and distraught. When Esh woke up, he didn't see her again. Here's listed that what he so much desired had now tied its tentacles around his spirit and overcome him. He didn't look at the TV that week, he never let his friends in, he had to make a choice.

***

He felt the weight of the instrument multiply, as he lifted the sledge hammer in his hand as though it wanted to go down with him. His lungs were bursting out of his chest and suddenly that felt like the heaviest thing he had lifted. With his stance poised in front of his TV set, he dropped the thing with a sigh. He looked at it as his muscles relaxed. As the tip of the hammer met the black, glossy screen, it seemed to torment him as the first little broken piece of glass gave way to the weight of the hammer. Like a sinister laugh, that lasted a few milliseconds, he saw the screen topple under the weight of the force, shattering the screen into fragments, fragments of his pain, and fragments of his freedom. This was how his freedom had become. Fragments that he had to pick up. Piece by piece. As delicate as they had become. In order to restore peace within his mind, his family and his lovely wife. He knew that he had to try.