Free Changes by Ama Ata Aidoo

think you were lonely? My sister, you don’t know. What I was going to say though is that, if you really were lonely, and you wanted to do something about it badly enough, you would know what to do.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜Ah. I thought you people who go to universities know and understand everything.’
    â€˜Now you are being nasty.’
    â€˜Forgive me, my sister. I didn’t mean it like that.’
    â€˜So what was all that leading to?’
    â€˜Simple. You just can’t have everything your way, and not expect to be lonely, at least some of the time.’
    After that, they both fell silent for a while.
    â€˜No, you can’t, Esi,’ Opokuya said, as if there had been no pause. ‘No matter what anybody says, we can’t have it all. Not if you are a woman. Not yet.’
    Our society doesn’t allow it.’
    â€˜Esi, no society on this earth allows that.’
    â€˜Oh Lord.’
    â€˜I know I’m beginning to sound disagreeable. But I thought it was clear that whatever other faults he may have, which of course I wouldn’t know about, Oko loved you and wanted your marriage to work.’
    On his terms.’
    â€˜It had to be on someone’s terms.’
    â€˜Why not on mine?’
    â€˜Why are you now being so childish, eh? Our people have said that for any marriage to work, one party has to be a fool.’
    â€˜And they really mean the woman, no?’
    â€˜Naturally.’
    They both burst out laughing again.
    â€˜I knew it,’ exclaimed Esi.
    â€˜That’s how life is.’
    â€˜Well, I’m having none of it. P-e-r-i-o-d.’
    â€˜Esi, if you really looked around at the world of husbands, wouldn’t you admit that Oko wasn’t that bad?’ Then almost laughing again, ‘You should have tried harder to squeeze out some time for him.’
    â€˜How? How could I have done more than I did as a wife and a mother, and still be able to compete on an equal basis with my male colleagues in terms of my output? How can I do more than I’m already doing and compete effectively for promotion, travel opportunities and other side-benefits of the job?’
    Opokuya couldn’t contain her patience any longer: ‘Esi, Esi, Esi! … What kind of talk is this? Ah. So you gave extra time to your job. You did the necessary travelling and attended the necessary conferences. You competed effectively and got promoted. Now look at what has happened to your marriage. Where does that leave you?’
    They fell into another trough of silence, because they had both been mildly shocked by Opokuya’s outburst. Opokuya herself was wondering what had gotten into her, and hadn’t she gone too far? Esi was thinking that she didn’t know Opokuya cared that much, and could Opokuya — and therefore everybody else — be right and she wrong? And in spite of her doubts, Opokuya couldn’t keep quiet anyway.
    â€˜Your male colleagues have still got their wives?’ she said almost angrily.
    â€˜Not to mention the odd girlfriend or two,’ Esi added.
    â€˜I’m glad you realise that yourself, eh? And of course their wives and girlfriends are still waiting for them to come back home from more conferences … And where is your husband?’
    There was another long silence. Then Esi spoke.
    â€˜Opokuya, I don’t think I’m beginning to regret anything. But in fact, considering how much I put in my job … sometimes I even take home data to analyse! I never get that much from it, not half as much as those men … and even with the promotion, they passed me overa couple of times
    â€˜Now, stop. How do you know I want to hear all of that?’
    â€˜Why is life so hard on the professional African woman?’ Esi asked, her voice showing that she was a little puzzled.
    But Opokuya wasn’t having any of her self-pity. So she countered rather heavily. ‘Why is life so