BEAUTY DIDN'T COUNT By Japheth Prosper

Nobody was as beautiful as Nma. She was a jewel. Everybody talked endlessly about her beauty in the village. It was said that she possessed the beauty of a mermaid. She was tall, fair in complexion and had all the nice things that any woman would desire to have. Her face was oval and her lips red as a glowing ember. She was tanned to perfection and whenever she laughed, talked or sang – even cried – her voice was angelic. Nma had everything.
She was indeed without blemish.
“Nma beautiful,” someone greeted her as she headed from the stream. She carried a clay pot on her head. The admirer stood beside his bicycle and as Nma swung her tender hips past him, he looked at her with great admiration in his eyes. “She’s as beautiful as her mother was in her time.” The man said. He wished he had a grown up son who was ripe for marriage.
“Welcome my daughter, the pride of her mother, the jewel of inestimable value.” Nma’s mother, Nne Nma, - as she was popularly called – chorused excitedly.
She helped her daughter with the pot of water and took it inside the mud hut. Nma wiped her face with the pad in her hand and heaved.
“I hope no one looked for your trouble today...” Nne Nma asked as she returned outside the compound.
Nma nodded in the affirmative and yawned loudly.
“What about the men?” the older woman remarked. “Did anyone make silly passes at you?”
Nma shook her head in negation and almost immediately remembered the man with the bicycle.
“Yes,” she blinked narrowly. “An old man with a bicycle called me Nma Beautiful and tried to woo me but I did not grant him audience.”
“Good my daughter,” said Nne Nma in support of Nma’s assertion. “Did you say the man is old and had a bicycle?”
“Yes Nne,” Nma replied.
“An old man with an old rickety bicycle! God forbid!” The older woman spat disgustfully. “What was he thinking? Didn’t he see you from head to toe? Is there anyone in this whole village and beyond that is as beautiful as you? The man must be very silly or possible sick in the head. Did he think you are meant for paupers like him? Was it not by mistake that I let Okoye, your father, a wretched palm wine taper to marry me? I shall not live to see that mistake happen again. You are the most beautiful maiden in this whole village and beyond. I was too in my time. Beautiful maidens like you are only meant for the rich. Any poor man that crosses this boundary,” she made a mark on the ground while her daughter watched proudly.
“Any wretched man that crosses this boundary seeking your hand in marriage, I shall have his legs cut off and feed them to the dogs.” She bragged, smacking her bosom with emphasis.
Nma blew her cheeks, ostensibly happy with what her mother was saying. She knew she was indeed beautiful. Her mother had always told her that and the villagers too affirmed it. Her mother had said she would not marry a wretched man like she did. She’d marry a man that lived in a big house with corrugated iron roofing. The man must be very rich enough to buy a car each for her and her mother. Any man that fell short of that bargain was definitely going to be relegated and considered not fit for her.
“Only a rich man that can afford to buy you and me cars is qualified to have your hand in marriage. Thank God I am still alive to screen the suitors as they come.” The older woman reiterated.
Just then Mazi Okoye returned carrying two giant kegs filled with palm wine in his hands. When Nma saw him, she quickly went to collect one of the kegs from him.
“Welcome,” she greeted politely.
Mazi Okoye looked at his daughter, “My jewel, are you already back from the stream?”
Nma nodded. She took the first keg of palm wine inside and returned almost at once to pick the other one.
Mazi Okoye turned to his wife. “Nne Nma, have you made breakfast for us? I have to eat at once and hurry to the market to sell this palm wine. I hear there is a traditional marriage going on in Ibindu today. You know how the people of Ibindu love palm wine because they don’t have palm trees in their village. Get me my food quickly so that I don’t miss the rush.”
As Mazi Okoye spoke these words, his wife stared at him with so much disdain as if he was an insect.
“I have not made any breakfast,” she blurted hotly. “You have always been a very wretched man all your life. How much do you hope to make from the sale of the palm wine that you put fire on my bottom to go bring your breakfast for you? Have you no shame? Your equals are out there making good money enough to last ten generations and you are here talking about two kegs of palm wine and a plate of food. There is no food in the house. You can go to the market like that. Must you eat first?”
Mazi Okoye stared bemusedly at his wife. His gaze dangled between his wife and daughter while his thoughts were filled up with sorrow.
“I shall go to the market like that,” he muttered dejectedly and went into the hut to prepare.
“Nne Nma, why did you talk to my father like that?” asked Nma obviously displeased with her mother’s attitude.
“He is a wretched man;” she snapped in response. “Wretched men are meant to be treated that way my daughter. You must learn to treat them that way because they don’t deserve any iota of pity from you.”
Nma shook her head, seeming totally to concur with her mother. She’d always thought her mother knew everything.
“Come”, her mother held her hand and led her to the back of the kitchen where a big mango tree cast a shade on the ground. “Come let me make you look more beautiful. Your hairs look very rough. The strands are standing out like spikes.”
“But mother, I am very hungry,” bemoaned Nma smugly.
“Don’t worry my daughter,” the older woman consoled. “I have some cocoyam already roasting on the fire in the kitchen. They will soon be ready.”
There were two stools under the shade – a big one and a small one. The young woman sat on the smaller stool while her mother took the bigger one. She immediately began to loosen Nma’s braided hairs in preparation for new ones.
Just that moment, Mazi Okoye stepped out of the house, dressed in readiness for market. He looked very moody and continued to sulk all the way. Nobody paid him any attention. His pretty wife, Nne Nma had often considered him too miserable and low-class for her. She felt she made the greatest mistake of her life by accepting to marry him and quite often she’d bemoaned her misfortune and made herself look very miserable. Mazi Okoye had come to live with these somewhat perennial complaints.
Known by all as a very quiet and humble man, Mazi Okoye too had also had cause to complain about his wife’s ineptitude. She hadn’t any skill in handling domestic activities and most times her culinary details were quite a disaster. He had married her when he was still very much youthful and very much in desire of her beauty. But as time went on, Mazi Okoye was inclined to notice all the other ugly traits which he initially had thought didn’t matter.
As a very quiet man who would rather let the sleeping dog lie than prattle about and hang his dirty laundry in public, Okoye decided to manage his problem. Most nights with a heart that bled, he would regret why he married Nne Nma in the first place. But this he kept to himself and shared with no one.
“When you sell the wine, remember to buy all the things we need in this house,” Nne Nma threw rather scornfully.
“But we don’t lack anything,” Mazi Okoye responded gravely. “We still have enough grains and tubers in the house. My bicycle is faulty and I have decided to fix it today after the sale of the wine. Please permit me to do that as I quickly get very weary carrying the kegs with my hands from the farm.”
“Bring the money to me,” Nne Nma bellowed without portraying any emotions.
 
 
2
 
Mazi Okoye walked dejectedly to the market. He had left his faulty bicycle with Mazi Odumodu hoping to retrieve it back after it had been fixed but his wife had said he must return with the proceed from the sale of palm wine. He wondered why Nne Nma had completely refused to change.
He was very hungry but that didn’t matter to him as much as fixing his bicycle did. With it he was always very able conveniently to convey his product from the farm to the market. Now Nne Nma had demanded that he bring all the money home. And to let peace reign, Mazi Okoye was going to do just that.
It was after he had sold the palm wine that he met Mazi Odumodu.
“I cannot collect the bicycle today as I earlier promised.” He told the bike repairer painfully.
“But why?” Mazi Odumodu looked bemused. “You promised to take it today and that was why I decided to mend it for you.”
“Yes,” the other man moaned, “I did promise but as you can see Nne Nma needs the money I made today and I am disposed to oblige her.”
The bicycle repairer looked at Mazi Okoye with pity. He knew how badly the palm wine tapper needed his bicycle but the love – or was it fear – that the latter had for his wife was too great.
“You can take the bicycle with you,” he mumbled sympathetically. “Whenever you have the money, you can bring it along.”
“Thank you very much,” Mazi Okoye said in appreciation. “I owe you a lot. You are a true friend.”
Mazi Okoye was very excited. He thanked the bicycle repairer exceedingly.
“What are friends for?” Mazi Odumodu acknowledged. “The world is like a dog’s play: you fall for me, I fall for you…”
“Thank you once again,” said the palm wine tapper. Soon, he rode away in his bicycle feeling exceedingly grateful.
As he rode back home, he thought of taking some palm wine the next day to Mazi Odumodu in appreciation of the gesture.
“You sold the wine and decided to use the money to repair your rickety bicycle?” Nne Nma thundered as her husband rode into the compound. “What did I tell you before you left the house?”
“I did not use the money to repair my bicycle…I…I…brought you the money.”
He brought out all the money from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Where did you get the money to mend your bicycle with?” she held, stoning him a very stunning look.
“I…I…Mazi Odumodu let me have it…He was very…kind,” stammered Mazi Okoye like a child learning to speak. Nobody feared his wife the way Mazi Okoye did.
Nne Nma collected the money and pocketed it as swiftly as her fingers could.
“Your cocoyam porridge is inside,” she muttered. “If you are hungry, tell Nma to fetch it for you.”
“I am hungry; very hungry.” He said softly.
Nma stood up at once to go and fetch her father something to eat.
When Mazi Okoye had eaten, he rested for a while and thereafter decided to go and check his traps if they’d caught any game. He was very lucky. One of his traps had caught a big grass cutter while the other two, caught rabbits.
“I shall take one of the rabbits to Mazi Odumodu for being so kind to me today.” He thought gracefully.
He placed the animals at the back of his bicycle and tied them to the frames behind with raffia.
He thought of going home first as he mounted the bicycle but hesitated when he remembered his wife. She will not let me give the rabbit to Mazi Odumodu. He thought aloud to himself. I shall go straight to Mazi Odumodu’s house and thereafter, return home. He reasoned.
Mazi Odumodu was very grateful.
“Thank you so much Mazi Okoye. You are indeed a very wonderful friend.”
“You too are a very wonderful friend,” remarked Mazi Okoye grinning. “You said the world is like a dog’s play and that is what it is. I fall for you and you fall for me.”
“Thank you once again,” said the bicycle repairer. The two men shook hands and bade each other goodbye.
 
 
3
Exactly one month after Mazi Okoye gave Mazi Odumodu part of his catch in appreciation of the favour he did for him, he went to the bicycle repairer’s shop with the money.
“Sorry, it took such a long time,” he said as he handed the money to Mazi Odumodu.
“But I don’t need it anymore,” said Mazi Odumodu smiling heartily. “You can keep the money.”
Mazi Okoye could not curtail his joy. He thanked his friend exceeding and mounted his bicycle. Two days after that encounter his traps made great catch. Again, Mazi Okoye went to his friend with part of it. Again, the palm wine tapper expressed his candid appreciation.
Thus a mutual existence was kindled between the palm wine tapper and the bicycle repairer.
Six months went by smoothly. One day, after having sold his palm wine and was ready to go home, Mazi Okoye decided to pay his friend a visit at the shop. There, he met a fine young man in a healthy discussion with Mazi Odumodu.
“Good afternoon Sir,” the young man greeted Mazi Okoye and helped him with the bicycle.
“We were just talking about you,” Mazi Odumodu winked. He was working on a bicycle wheel. “You are indeed the son of your father and your ancestors indeed the true inhabitants of this land.”
Mazi Okoye chuckled at the remark, feeling his ego massaged. “Who was that fine young man?” he asked pointing at the fellow who had gone to park his bicycle.
“You don’t know him?” Mazi Odumodu echoed. “He is my first son, Nnamani. He got a scholarship to study overseas years ago and had only returned yesterday. We are planning a feast in his honour.”
“Really,” Mazi Okoye beamed excitedly. “He is such a humble fellow. No one would believe he has traveled beyond this village.”
Just then, Nnamani returned.
“You are welcome sir,” he said once again in a very polite tone.
Mazi Odumodu cleared his throat. “I know Mazi Okoye that this is not the right place for us to discuss this but as friends who have enjoyed a very mutual relationship, I believe you’ll not find fault in what I want to tell you.”
“What is it?” the other man stared wide-eyed at his now very good friend.
Father and son exchanged glances and winking, Nnamani nodded at his father.
Mazi Odumodu went on smoothly: “My son saw your daughter today and told me he wants to settle down with her. We just discussed that before you came in.”
Elation lined the palm wine tapper’s face. This to him was great news.
“You don’t have a problem Mazi Odumodu. Count me in on this. Whenever you are ready to come to my house rest assured that you’re very much welcome.”
“Thank you sir,” Nnamani said respectfully almost kneeling to greet the palm wine tapper.
Mazi Okoye delightfully hurried home to share the good news with his family.
“God forbid!” Nne Nma spat disgustfully.
“Isn’t that the boy I saw this morning? Is that the one that seeks my daughter’s hand in marriage? God forbid! How many cars can that one buy? From his leaned disposition I could tell he will not live up to two years talk more of marrying Nma…”
“You are talking about a young man that has just returned from overseas.” Mazi Okoye cut in sharply. “What other prospects do you want? There are hundreds of young women in this community who would readily jump at this offer…”
“What Nne Nma said is very correct,” snapped Nma interposingly. “I can’t marry a man who does not have a car to carry me about. The man must have so much money to take care of me and my children. I want a man that lives in a big house with so many house maids to run errands for me. I don’t need a man as tiny as fish bone. That son of a bicycle repairer isn’t’ my dream man.”
Mazi Okoye stared at his daughter as if she was an apparition. He was shocked to hear her talk that way. She must have been listening to her mother and now she’d become painfully like the older woman.
“You mustn’t listen to your proud mother. She’ll lead you to destruction.” The palm wine tapper counseled.
“I don’t want to marry a wretched man like you.” Nma murmured. Mazi Okoye placed his finger in his mouth, bit it hard and shook his head. He often did that when he was very angry.
“I can see you have indeed chosen the path of destruction. I shall not be there when you’ll gnash your teeth”. Mazi Okoye was greatly upset.
Watching the proceeding, excited Nne Nma clapped her hands and danced around the hut. She was very glad her daughter spoke rudely to her husband.
“You see,” she sneered, “she knows that she has a wretched father and for that I am very glad. I have brought her up not to make the same mistake that I made when I blindly agreed to marry you.. My daughter, Nma cannot marry a man that hasn’t fed very well. Go and tell the son of Odumodu that until he buys himself a good car and a big house we shall not grant him audience. With that tiny waist of his, I doubt how much of work he’d do to earn such luxury.”
Sadly, Mazi Okoye went into the hut lamenting his ill luck. It pained him that his wife and daughter had chosen to humiliate him. Mazi Odumodu had been a very good friend of his for some time now and Mazi Okoye had enjoyed a very mutual relationship with him. Now, what was he going to tell them? He’d promised them that all was well. How was he going to handle the issue?
 
 
 
4
True to their words, Nne Nma and her daughter bluntly refused to treat the visitors hospitably.
“You cannot marry my daughter!” Nne Nma blurted irritably. “Have you bothered to take a closer look at the woman you want to marry? Does she look to you like the type that wants to settle down with the son of a bicycle repairer? If we had such lowly status, she’d have been married long before now. We are looking for a man with class and a lot of money. Looking at your diminutive stature and tiny waist, I am inclined to believe that you are not any where near that rank yet. If by stroke of luck you get to that level and Nma is still unmarried then, we might decide to grant you audience.”
All the visitors were amazed at Nne Nma’s reaction. They all said she had no regard for her husband neither did she have for other people. Mazi Okoye bowed his head in shame.
One of the elders that accompanied the suitors rose up and in a very grave tone said; “We have heard all that you have said Nne Nma but the question I want to ask you is, how many mansions or cars do you have? That which you request from the suitor…”
“Shut up Mazi Ibekwe,” Nne Nma struck like thunder cutting the old man short. “Haven’t I been very receptive enough to at least listen to all your trash? I think it’s time you all left my house and if you don’t, I shall spray hot water on you all and watch you pill like chickens!”
“My mother is right,” Nma shot from where she stood eavesdropping. “You must all leave now because she has a ferocious temper. She has just told you in plan language that I cannot marry a pauper.”
The elders looked at one another obviously lost for words. They rose and began to file out mournfully. Mazi Okoye could not say a word. His wife and daughter had disgraced him finally. What he feared most had come to pass. He wondered where he’d put his head.
When the elders had all gone with Nnamani trailing sadly behind them, Mazi Okoye sat on a stool and began to cry incessantly. A pain as thick as clay, sat permanently in his heart.
He took very ill the next day and couldn’t go out.
“You better get well fast because there is no food in this house to last till the end of the next market day,” Nne Nma ranted. She did not bother to go out in search of medical aid for her frail and ailing husband. Mazi Okoye hadn’t suffered such ailment before.
Three days later, she found him dead in his room.
The villagers came en mass for Mazi Okoye’s interment. Everybody said he was a very kind, honest and humble man. They blamed his sudden death on his arrogant and selfish wife.
“If not for her, poor Mazi Okoye would have still been alive.” They all said.
Amid tears and great sorrow, Mazi Okoye was buried in his compound. Seven days after his burial, the villagers dispersed and nobody cared about Nma and her mother.
The young men of the village circulated the news to other villages. They told every ear that cared to listen that Nne Nma and her daughter were very selfish, arrogant and wicked. That bad image scared prospective suitors from other communities away.
Years crawled past slowly.
“Mother, I am not getting any younger,” Nma complained to her mother one afternoon. “It seemed men that have cars and big houses aren’t coming to ask for my hand in marriage. Should I marry anyone that comes along?”
“God forbid!” the older woman cut in sharply. “Do you want to end up like me? Do you want to carry all this beauty of yours to the house of a pauper? No my daughter! A rich man with big house and big car will definitely come soon. You deserve a better life. You cannot marry a wretched man like your father who died and left us with nothing but poverty.”
“But mother”, went on Nma apprehensively, “I am not getting any younger and all my equals are already making babies in their husbands’ houses.”
“Are they as beautiful as you?” Nne Nma cut in smoothly. “You don’t have to worry. You still are very beautiful; still that jewel of inestimable value that you have always been. Don’t panic, soon and very soon, I assure you, a big man will come asking for your hand in marriage and he’ll turn our fortune around.”
“But I am very worried mother. I hear that Mazi Odumodu’s son Nnamdi has become a very wealthy man. He lives in a mighty house in the city and drives in luxury cars. I feel like going to beg him to come and have my hand now. I cannot remain like this mother.”
“Don’t worry my daughter,” Nne Nma placed an arm across her daughter’s shoulder. “I shall buy some kola nuts tomorrow and hurry to Mazi Odumodu’s house. If what you said is true, then we shall quickly make peace with the family and share in their good fortune.”
Those words were very soothing to Nma who had grown very tired of the village and wanted a breath of fresh air in the city. She wanted dearly to be married to a very rich man so she could come often to the village and proudly flaunt her luxury and wealth.
But when would this be?
“Mother, please make haste to Mazi Odumodu’s house before his son will change his mind and marry someone else.”
“Ok, my daughter,” the older woman nodded.
 
 
5
Very early the next morning, Nne Nma rose from bed. She hadn’t had a sound sleep the previous night. Her thoughts hovered around what her daughter had told her about Nnamani. How did he do it? Was it that easy for one to make so much money? How did he manage?
Nne Nma could not sleep. If only she’d known she would have let her daughter marry him. But he looked to her then like a fish bone which could easily be broken into two. She had thought he could never live long enough to own a car let alone dwell in a large house.
If only she’d known! Her husband was right after all. She had indeed led her daughter through the wrong path and now this was the bitter pill they had to swallow. Mazi Odumodu was a kind man who was also her husband’s very good friend before he died. Perhaps he would bury the hatchet and convince his son to marry Nma.
“I am going now to see Mazi Odumodu,” she said to her daughter that morning.
“Can I come along?” Nma demanded impatiently yawning and stretching herself on the bed.
“No, it’s not necessary.” Nne Nma said. “I shall go alone and whatever the outcome of my sojourn is, I shall return to alert you.”
“May your outing be successful,” Nma said as her mother disappeared out of the room.
Nne Nma got to Mazi Odumodu’s house in less than ten minutes.
“I came early so as to meet you at home before you leave for your business.” Nne Nma said after she’d disclosed her mission to the bicycle repairer.
Mazi Odumodu was at his best. His son, Nnamani’s success had brought them good fortune. A big brick house was being erected in his compound and work was in progress when Nne Nma had arrived.
“Your late husband, Mazi Okoye was a very good man with a wonderful heart. The gods like such people and that’s why he was hurriedly called to rest with his fathers” Mazi Odumodu said smoothly. “What you have come to ask of me is now very difficult. When my son came asking for your daughter’s hand in marriage your response wasn’t very encouraging. You told my son that he was not going to live long enough to own a car or house of his own. You told us all that your daughter was a product for only the rich. The leaders got angry and that disposition led to the death of Mazi Okoye, your husband…”
“I am very sorry for my actions,” Nne Nma cut in sharply. She knelt before Mazi Odumodu and pleaded for forgiveness. “It was all my fault. Please beg your son to forget the past and come to take his wife…”
“Get up!” Mazi Odumodu said. “I am only a mortal, a common bicycle repairer. You don’t have to kneel before me. It’s one thing to make a mistake and it’s another to admit that one has made a mistake. The life of a woman is like that of a flower whose seasons come very swiftly. It is good for a flower to be quickly plucked off when it is blossoming with fresh garlands. My candid advice to you is that when upon your second coming to the earth you face a similar situation, do not hesitate to act wisely. Again, do not despise or treat anyone with contempt because of their present status for no condition in life is permanent. What one sows is what he or she shall reap.”
He turned uneasily on his chair and fixed Nne Nma a hard look. He went on painlessly
“You looked down on Nnamani many years ago; a graduate that studied overseas. You judged him by his looks and forgot to see the prospects that lay ahead of him. Today, you come to me tearfully demanding that Nnamani, that same boy you chased like a dog out of your house, marry your daughter. Woman, your daughter was a blossoming flower which you refused to let the young men pluck. Now, withering with the change of the tide, it is you who now go about knocking on people’s doors. I cannot help you woman for just two days ago, I went with the elders to Mazi Idenyi’s house. Nnamani wishes to marry his daughter, Nkechi.”
That piece of information bit a large portion of Nne Nma’s heart.
“Does Mazi Idenyi have a grown up daughter that is ripe enough for marriage?” she threw feverishly.
“Yes,” Mazi Odumodu nodded. “His daughter Nkechi is one of the prettiest and most humble maiden in the entire village now. She is so gentle and modest…”
“I think I’ve met her before,” Nne Nma cut in repulsively, obviously bored and frustrated with Mazi Odumodu’s endless eulogies. “I shall leave now. I wish you all the best.”
She rose with difficulty from the chair; her legs seemed to be tied together. As she moved, she felt like someone whose eyes had been plucked off their sockets. Even though daylight had broken out and the birds had become chirpier, Nne Nma still felt her legs wobble. She hadn’t felt such pang of bitterness in her heart before.
She staggered in the dusty pathways to her house. Her legs still wobbled and her chest still burned. So Nnamani had finally decided to marry the daughter of Mazi Idenyi? But why? Was that girl not too small for him considering his now very good fortune?
“I shall tell Nma to hurry to the city. She must go now to him before he returns home finally to take Idenyi’s daughter.” Nne Nma thought loudly to herself.
Nma was still sleeping when her mother reached home. Displeased now and hugely inhibited by the outcome of her outing and in want of someone to push her grief to, Nne Nma pounced on her daughter.
“Lazy old woman!” she ranted. “You’re here still sleeping when all the maidens in this village have finished their chores and have all gone in search of fire wood! I have always known you’ll end up like your wretched father. It’s a curse upon your poor family. All the maidens about your age are now in their husbands’ houses and are producing children in their hundreds. All you do is sleep, eat and grumble about your cursed life. You lie at home and wait for me to gather the morning dews while I go in search of a husband for you. Listen; when I was your age, I had already forgotten what marriage was all about. This is my husband’s house. Please go to your own husband’s house and leave me alone. Maidens about your age are already extinct in this village…”
She went on and on non stoop. Nma stared at her mother in disbelieve. Not even in her wildest dream would she have believed that her mother could talk to her like that. Dejectedly, Nma began to cry.
“You led me into all this mess,” she lamented. “If I had listened to my kind poor father, I wouldn’t have been here to listen to your endless insults…”
As she said that, Nne Nma also burst into tears. “It’s only a transferred aggression my daughter. My heart is heavy because it has been pierced with a knife. I just learnt that Nnamani has gone to Mazi Idenyi’s house asking for his daughter, Nkechi’s hand in marriage.”
A chill went through Nma’s spine as she listened to her mother’s lamentations.
That day throughout, mother and daughter sat in front of their mud house bewailing their fate and sulking endlessly.
 
 
6
“You must hurry to the city immediately.” Nne Nma said to her daughter finally. “You must go immediately. We cannot fold our hands and watch that little rat take what rightly belongs to you.”
“But…but…what do I do?” stuttered Nma timidly.
Nne Nma turned to face her daughter, her eyes glowing like ember. “You must prepare. Ask questions around for his address in the city. Go to him. Seduce him. Use all the feminine power that you possess to charm him. We must not let him marry Nkechi. No! Nkechi does not deserve him at all. You do. You have all that is required to become the wife of a rich and powerful man…”
“If I had known, I would have listened to my father.” Nma lamented painfully.
“Shut up!” fired Nne Nma irritably. “Shut up. Get up now and act and stoop bemoaning your past tragedies…”
“Where do I get the transportation fare from?” she echoed dryly, staring at her mother.
“Take one of the kegs of palm oil we have been hoarding to the market and sell it as fast as you can. We have no time to waste. You must leave now!”
Nma got up. Acting upon her mother’s counsel which hadn’t in the past yielded any positive result, she hurried to the market with the keg of palm oil.
But she was not fast enough for it was the same day, very early in the morning that Nkechi, accompanied by her mother, went for the first time to the city to meet her husband.
It was already too late for Nma. She reached the city and met both mother and daughter already treated to a large feast. Nnamani had really grown very rich and famous. A lot of big people came to his large house to welcome his new wife from the village. There was more than enough to eat and drink. Nma, ashamed and alarmed at the luxury that would have rightfully become hers if only she hadn’t listened to her mother, hid herself in the crowd. The fear of being recognized tormented her greatly.
In the heat of the occasion, she slipped surreptitiously out of the large compound.
Her mother was waiting by the door when she arrived the following day.
“How did it go? Did you see him?” She threw curiously at the younger woman.
Languidly, Nma sat on a stool and began yet again to cry. Nne Nma shook her head and muttered.
“So, this is how you ended up! Wretched like your cursed and wretched father! It’s a pity, the kind of family you came from.”
Depressed constantly with her mother’s endless ranting and naggings, Nma married an old farmer in a nearby village. She became the farmer’s sixth wife and for the rest of her miserable life, she toiled day and night in the farm to fend for herself and four children as her husband was too old and weak to work. 
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BEAUTY DIDN'T COUNT by Japheth prosper