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Six months later, after there was a little calm in the city, Anaya hosted her birthday party, a celebration of life. She had never looked more beautiful, Jubril thought as they stood receiving their guests. Her hair was swept off her face, her peach lace oleku glittered as she moved, shaking hands, smiling, greeting people with a vivacity that danced and sparkled. He could not contain his pride in her at that moment. Sad, though, that she should turn to a house for comfort, showing it off in a blaze of publicity, rather than seeking comfort from him. Defiance and high spirits and extravagance were her weapons against human pain, it seemed. He was proud of the beautiful house she had turned it into. But sad too. He would much rather have spent that evening quietly with her at home.

The guests were dancing to the music of Onyeka Onwenu. Anaya loved to dance. Whenever Jubril looked for her, she was on the floor, the man holding her laughing and enchanted. He suddenly remembered the night he met her at the opening of Black Divine. He remembered how bored he had been until she came to him on the terrace. He turned away from the scene in the room, from gyrating couples and the loud music, and made his way back to the study to see if he could work for a little while. He sat for a few minutes, going through the papers on his desk. After perusing them conscientiously and making notes on a pad, he sat back in the chair with satisfaction and stared out the window.

"Jubril? My love…I've been looking everywhere for you." He turned and there she was. Kilali Mark, his mistress for the past couple of months, dark-haired, sleek and thin as a rake. She had a beautiful smile, a handsome, elegant woman of wit and sophistication, with a strong sexual appetite. Anaya knew the Marks, but had no suspicion of his liaison with Kilali.

"What are you doing in here, all alone?" she asked.

She came up and slipped her hand through his. She was in her early thirties. She had never said she loved Jubril, or expected him to say he loved her. It was not a business relationship, rather a passionate friendship, as Kilali described it. Jubril gave her jewellery and paid for a Lexus jeep as a birthday present. She was a wise and discreet companion in whom he confided with absolute confidence, except about his personal relations with Anaya. She had never tried to pry. She was bored with her husband, and assumed that Jubril's spritely wife had begun to pall on him too. She liked having a lover and she needed the attentions of a man.

"I must say Anaya has excelled herself. Beautiful party. So clever to get Onyeka and Basket Mouth. Good music, good comedy. Do you want to dance?"

"No, let's skip that. Have a seat while I go get drinks."

Kilali sat down, arms locked behind her head, studying the décor. Her eyes strayed to the picture frame of Anaya. She did not like her. Her husband, Josalif, thought she was marvellous, but then he would. What a fool she was not to keep a husband like Jubril amused. She was not interested in stealing him, admittedly because she knew she could not, but one day someone would come along who was more ambitious…

Jubril came back with two glasses and a bottle of wine. "Here we are." He sat beside her.

"I've missed you," she said.

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"I've been very busy," Jubril explained. "But things would cool off soon. I should be back in Abuja next week. We could see each other. I've missed our afternoons together."

"So have I," Kilali Mark said. She put down her glass, and, bending forward, kissed him full on the lips. And that was what Anaya saw when she opened the door. Kilali had her eyes closed; Jubril glanced up and saw his wife staring at them. For how many seconds, he did not know, but the door slammed and Kilali jerked away. "My God, what was that…"

Jubril stood up. He wiped his mouth and there was lipstick staining his handkerchief like blood. "I'm afraid that was Anaya," he said.

"Oh, my God," Kilali repeated, and she laughed. "That's awkward. Is she likely to make trouble? You can say I forced myself on you, I don't mind."

"Forget it. I'll see if I can find her."

He left the room and searched for her on the dance floor, and all the rooms downstairs. She was nowhere to be found. He hesitated. If he went upstairs, that nosy maid would see him. He was never quite sure about Eni. Anaya relied on her too much. He decided to wait until the party was over. See what she said. She might ignore it.

Three hours later, after the guests had gone, he found her in her room. He sat beside her on the bed and held her hand. "Don't be angry with me. I promise she meant nothing to me." He could feel how angry she was.

"Kilali Mark doesn't mean a thing to me," he repeated. "I'll never see her again. That is a promise. But will you do something for me?"

She said slowly, not looking at him, "What is it? What do you want me to do?"

"Go to a doctor, Anaya. There must be a reason why sex revolts you. Don't you see it is the only thing that stands between us and being happy? Please, Anaya. Will you see a doctor?"

Anaya shivered. She turned to face him and he saw that she was crying. The bedside lamp made her face look hard. "I was circumcised as a child. That is what sex means to me. Hurt and pain. I do not need any doctor to tell me that. My cousin, Ndidi, died after a gruesome labour. That is what sex means to me, Jubril Rufai. I do not need a doctor to tell me that. My ignorant father died on top of a prostitute. That is what sex also means to me. I do not need any doctor to explain it. Do you understand me?"

He was so shocked that he let go of her and she swung away from him. "How do you think I felt, letting you climb on top of me and feeling like I wanted to vomit? Then becoming pregnant and being plagued with the thoughts that I would die in the process of giving birth? Of course, I went to see a doctor. He said there was nothing that could be done, Jubril. Deal with it. I cannot be cured. A stupid tradition has scarred me for life. Don't give up Kilali. You're entitled to her. I was just hurt and jealous back there, but I have no right to be. Now, leave my room."

And he went, leaving her alone. Too stunned to speak.

Anaya sat, staring at the door, lost in thoughts. She heard her bathroom door open. Eni came around the bed, holding laundry, and stood in front of her mistress.

"I'm sorry, ma."

Anaya managed a smile and nodded, not sure if Eni was apologizing because of the sad story she must have overheard or because she eavesdropped. It did not matter anyway. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. I momentarily forgot that you were in there. You may leave. I need to be alone right now."

"Yes, ma," Eni said as she curtsied. "Good night."