The Magic of Marriage

Photo by Jeferson Gomes on Unsplash

Koina watched Obi from across the table as he rushed through his meal. The air between them vibrated with mutual irritation. What had started out so magically less than a year ago had gone sour.

She looked down at the plate with food in front of her as her thoughts traveled back to her late teens. From her fifteenth year, there were two young men — they were friends, and both were two years older than her — had her interest. Unlike her dominant and assertive peers, it took almost another year before Koina was intimate with them.

Though not both at the same time. The Trobriand elders would certainly have frowned on that.

By the time she was eighteen, and many women of her own age were nursing their first babies, Koina felt pressured by society to choose either of the men to marry.

She didn’t want to choose; didn’t know who to choose.

Bosai was a kind-hearted man, always attending to all her needs. Whatever she wanted, she got, and he constantly checked whether she was happy. This was the way of their culture, but it also made him utterly boring in bed. Obi was the exact opposite. Not that he was unkind to her, but he was rougher, always treading the fine line between what their society deemed acceptable or not.

And yes, he was rough in bed too, something she enjoyed, even craved.

After an intense night, still riding the waves of passion and feeling the pressure from her parents to choose a mate, Koina stayed with Obi. Soon her parents came with cooked yams, and the family celebrated that Koina was finally married.

Those first weeks were magical. Not even Obi’s occasional standoffish nature could dampen Koina’s happiness. In fact, it only excited her more.

Until she saw Bosai, six months into her marriage.

That was when she realized she had chosen the wrong man.

He was in the village only for the day, and later Koina learned he went back to the port where he worked for the foreigners.

Yesterday, Bosai returned to the village again, and this time he visited Obi and Koina. He had stayed for dinner the night before, and the looks between him and Koina were unmistakable. Obi had noticed. Of course, Obi had always known of Koina’s feelings for his friend, but with his friend out of the picture, there was nothing for him to fear.

Obi now stopped eating and looked at Koina. He repeated his words of last night: “I love you, Koina. I don’t want you to leave me. But I know you love Bosai too.”

He stopped talking, and as he took in her beauty, the features on his face soften.

“Tell me now what you decide?”

Irritation flashed across her face once more because of his question, and even more so when she saw his pleading expression.

Suddenly, Obi got up from the table and disappeared into their bedroom. He came back with a bowl of coconut oil.

Koina looked at him with a question in her eyes; an eyebrow lifted.

“It’s a spell, Koina. It will make you happy again. I want you to be happy.”

Obi left the house while Koina cleared the table. She took the coconut oil to the bedroom with her, and carefully rubbed some on her face, then her shoulders and naked breasts. Her body glistening, she took a stroll through the village, stopping at different huts to talk with other members of the tribe.

Almost back home, someone called her name.

Not someone — Bosai.

He followed her home. Followed her to the bedroom. Hugged and kissed her. Told her how much he had missed her. How much he loved her. Longed for her. Their coupling was urgent; filled with passion she didn’t know Bosai was capable of.

Still panting and with a smile on her face, she finally rolled away from Bosai. Obi stood in the door opening, watching her with a smile playing around his mouth, and love in his eyes.

Koina stretched out her hand and pulled him into bed with them. His lovemaking seemed rougher than before, but soon tender hands soothed her flesh. Bosai’s hands. Koina relished in the different sensations of her husband and lover, enjoying every touch — soft and hard.

Obi’s spell had worked — this makes her happy.

Years later, and parents of five kids, the three of them were still together. They all had the sickness without medicine, but their love was stronger than ever, their happiness a magic spell.

© Rebel’s Notes


This post first appeared on my Medium profile, where you can read more of my work that is exclusive to Medium. You can read three stories for free on Medium each month, but for just $5 a month (less if you sign up for a year) you can read everything on Medium, and support me, and other writers you like.


Wicked Wednesday stops at the end of the year. Currently, there’s a challenge to complete 25 prompts by 31 December. Following the clever example of others, here you see the prompts I have already completed. My goal is to write for every one of the Wicked Wednesday Bingo Prompts. Join in!
This story answers to the prompt: being you

My stories for the prompts are:

  1. Harmony In Flowers (language of flowers)
  2. Listening To Her Inner Voice (intimacy and self-esteem)
  3. Annual Meeting On Summer Solstice (summer solstice)
  4. The Healing Power Of A Penis Masturbator (phases of life)
  5. To Love Is A Choice (to love is a choice)
  6. Live The Life You Want (scary stuff)
  7. Dinner With Caren (career success)
  8. Snippets of Kindness (magical power)
  9. The Future Express (morals)
  10. The African Sunrise & Heartbeat (music memoir)
  11. The Last Moments Of A Decaying Life (redemption)
  12. Therapy Needed; Camping It Is (addiction)
  13. Voice Of Victory (loving yourself)
  14. Climbing To The Summit Of Mount Everest (nature’s beauty)
  15. The story above (being you)

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