"Where is the TV remote?"

“Where is the TV remote?”

“Have you checked the cloth basket?”

She poured all the clothes down and began to shake them one by one. Not there.

I remembered once I was searching for the remote control for close to five minutes when all along the devise was in my hand. It was ridiculous. So I clapped my hands just to be sure I wasn’t holding it again this time. We banged the bed, maybe it was buried under the sheets

“Come, let’s lift the mattress. Maybe it got kicked under the bed.”

I stood at one end and she positioned herself at the other. I counted to three and we lifted it.

“Raise it very well now.”

“Olami, it’s heavy.” She mustered all the strength she could.

We finally got it standing. And the remote control was not there.

“But you used it last.”

“I didn’t.”

“Baby, you used it last, I remember quite well. You were the one watching late night movie. And you slept off while you were at it. On two occasions, I tapped you and woke you up. Eventually, you just slept off.”

“I remember when I was about to sleep, I gave it to you, thinking you may want to change the channel.”

“You didn’t.”

“Olami, I did.”

“If you did, it will be by my bedside table. It’s not. You were too sleepy to even do a thing like that.”

“Okay o. But, I think I did.”

“You assumed you did but you did not. Just admit.”

“So where is it?”

“We keep searching.”

We turned everywhere upside down, the book shelves, the wardrobes. We searched the toilet, the windows, underneath the books, magazines, the couch, bathroom cabinet, the shoe rack, and the fridge too, very weird places. And the control was not there.

“Check the pillow cases.”

We stripped the pillows bare, shook them vigorously. We searched around the TV, checked the cables behind and it was not there.

“And I really want you to see this programme.”

“Think very well, where do you think you dropped it last?”

She stopped and gave it a long deep thought. Then, as if controlled by some inner compass, she went to her dresser and opened the drawer. She finally figured where she forgot it. Not in the first one. Not in the second either. She stopped again, disappointed.

“Let me go and check the kitchen.”

“The kitchen?”

She was back not long after. She didn’t find it.

“Check your handbag and laptop bag.”

“You’re right, it could actually be there.”

It was not in both bags. At least, we had stopped arguing now. She had accepted she was the one who misplaced it and that made searching for it easier at least.

“It’s just too stressful trying to control it manually.” She hissed.

I took my mind off it and tried to do something else. She wouldn’t give up, she continued to comb the room for it.

“Baby, don’t stress yourself. We will see it later.” That fell on deaf ears.

My laptop bag occupies the space between my bedside table and the bed. I slipped my hand into the bag and brought my laptop out, slipped it in again fishing for a flash drive. And then my hand touched it. It’s a lie! I couldn’t believe it. I ran my hand over it, in the bag, to be sure. It was it.

It was the remote control! The remote control was in my laptop bag!

I couldn’t dare bring it out. I couldn’t dare.

What was it doing there? How did it get there?

Life is not fair. Truly.

Then, it all came back to me. She was right, she gave it to me just when she was about to sleep. And when I finished watching the film, I stretched to put it on the table and it fell inside the bag. I was drowsy and I was lazy, so I didn’t bother. As the details of the event came to mind, my hand remained stuck in the bag, still unable to bring it out. And my dear wife was still searching for it. This was not funny.

What would I do? I was mad as a box of frogs. How was I supposed to admit defeat and absolve the blame?

She already accepted she misplaced it. I already pushed her to the point where she believed she didn’t give it to me the previous night. I had cornered and waylaid her till she bought my version of how it was misplaced. Well, because, really, I thought that was how. And I already gloried in that victory. How would I take all that back? My hand remained stuck in the bag. How would I admit now that all my jiggery pokery was erroneous and flawed?

My thoughts buzzed like the swarm of bees. Like someone befuddled by drink, I exclaimed, “Baby! Why did you drop the remote control in my bag?!” I brought it out, raised it up and showed her. “Why?” All my attempt to wipe any trace of mischief from my face didn’t just thrive.

She raised her head from the foot of the bed and looked at me. She was speechless. She actually looked a bit confused. Her mouth shut wide open. She stood up and just stared at me, totally gob smacked.

Before she could process any defense and gloat, I cocked the double barrel again and started shooting sporadically. “I don’t know why you would come from your side and drop the remote control inside my bag.” My hands were dramatizing to add weight and effect. “And now you open your mouth there pretending you didn’t do it. For crying out loud, why?!” As I ranted, I was packing my stuff and getting ready to run out of the room. “And if I say anything now you will argue you didn’t. If you didn’t, who else did?” I denied her any space to get a word in. “Who else? How many of us are using this room? Ehn?!”

She just stood there dumbstruck, unmoving as a tombstone. She stared at me and her eyes began to literarily burn my skin, I knew if I stayed longer, I would become boli – roasted plantain. As soon as I noticed a little sign indicating she was about to say something, I used the last bullets.

“You surprise me, sometimes! And you need to stop doing things like this, truly, putting incriminating things in other people’s bag and expecting them to feel guilty. It’s just not fair. Not fair at all! I grabbed my laptop, the power pack, flash drive, packed my phones, and took off. I vanished like vapor before the sun.

How was that? Ingenious!