He had accompanied me back to Nigeria on a research for my new book.I remember how awed he was at different sights and sounds.I had refused to see the beauty in the ugly i was used to. The ugly that made me leave Africa.It was this refusal that pushed me to persuade him into desecrating the museum with me after we had bribed our guide to excuse us for thirty minutes. We had sex while the gods watched us. It’s been eight years. Eight years of childlessness. ‘Nothing is wrong with the both of you,’ the doctors say.But I know.