Composition

I hate English. So many dumb rules,contradictions&pronunciations…and Miss Ajayi- my primary 1 teacher who made it a point of duty to constantly embarrass me publicly. She told us on a Monday that I-S is pronounced ‘IS’ and on a Tuesday, out of all the 10 oversabiz raising up their hands, she asked me to pronounce the word on the blackboard. Of course I was sure I was right, because I had been awake yesterday. So I answered boldly “IS-LAND”. Even when those bloody oversabiz were giggling, I said “IS-LAND ma “….:( the rest is history. I’ve never gotten more than a C in written English. Never. :’(

Moving on…

This isn’t an educational posts like most of my posts. There’s no hidden meaning/question/ any such thing. This is an Expository Essay.

The purpose of this Essay is to shed more light on a subject matter-ME. This is actually therapeutic because at the end of this exercise, I’m suppose to have understood my self better; my actions, inactions, responses, thought patterns and all those irrelevant things that make me who I am…. at least that’s what HE said.

Let’s get on with it then….

Akanbi…my new ♡, inspired this…these array of sentences.

My names are Runsewe Temitope Omololu. At the age of 13 or less, I realised that Temitope is a rather common name, owned by prestigious members of the society and also pepper sellers, bus conductors, ugly people to mention but a few; I discovered the latter first and made it a point of duty to refer to myself as LoLu. So far, I’ve succeeded in making a lot of people identify me with that name but my own father and some stubborn creatures have stuck with Temitope.

I do not know how to ride a bicycle, or play ten-ten, or skip, or do what most normal kids my age could do while growing up. I’ve stopped caring too because at the age of 10 or 11 I realised that all those things really don’t get you a gold medal or millions.

I’m a light skinned girl. Half-caste, because my mother is Edo &my father is Ijebu. Many slow people-even after I say my full names- ask me if I’m Ibo, with a smile-because i’m a sweetheart-I tell them no and venture to tell them about my roots. At the age of 15, I realised giving information about my parents’ states wasn’t enough, I was expected to know my villages and was scolded for not visiting the places often. These inquisitive people were not my relatives, they did not even know what my parents looked like, they just took it upon themselves to bother about me. I crammed the names of my villages-because I’m a very intelligent girl-and I told all the nosy creatures. That shut them up.

I cannot speak yoruba as well as some people expect me to. At a point this bothered me immensely, with time I stopped giving a crap because so far, all my exams, tests and job interviews have been in English.

Sometimes I’m witty, smart, talkative, fun, insane, amusing and generally a breath of fresh air. Sometimes I’m quiet, indifferent and generally “introvertish”. All the time I’m ambitious and I know what I want with my career.

Emotionally, i’m amazing. I can ♡ one minute and not care the next minute. I get bored easily with animals, places, people and things; Nouns basically. Its one of two extremes with me-Love or Indifference. There’s seldom a middle ground. Seldom-I never learnt how to use this word. I mean different things to different people.

I’m not amused by things that amuse the general public. I’m not emotionally attached to artists and I don’t shed a tear when any calamity or fortune befalls any of them- abroad & locally.

I ♡ ♡ ♡ to tour. Seeing new places, learning cultures&capturing the moments. Music&books&Google assist when my resources fail.

I’ve made mistakes. I beat myself up, get over it& try not to repeat them. Sometimes I do.

Magarittas, I ♡ and any other sweet liquor.

I’m 5ft, 5inches tall. I weigh 58kg today. I have an amazing body& I work hard to keep it like that. After my 2 or 3kids, it will be like that, not only because I ♡ admiring myself-with and without clothes, but because I want to make the bad belles that said that I’ll be fat after childbirth green with envy. Yes. I said it.

I have less than 10 close friends. Half of them have created a formula/ pattern to deal with me, the other half accept me no matter the personality I have on at the time. I ♡ the latter more.

I grew up with basic necessities, I don’t care much for petty things. I’m not moved by flashy things. I’ve felt pain, suffering, betrayal, hunger, ♡, hate,kindness- a lot of things don’t amuse me anymore. I ♡ to learn. Often times, I over analyse- over think about the consequences of my actions or inactions. I seldom do things just because. I write just because.

I’m a quaint little doll; sometimes Chucky, other times Barbie but I’ve learnt not to bother. To identify important things in life and address them accordingly. To treat people that matter with ♡, respect&care and put the others in the void I’ve created for them. I can only stand bullshit for so long, longer than normal-if its a matter that requires tact&diplomacy.

I don’t want to ever fully understand Me. I get bored with Nouns I fully understand and I distance myself from them. Death is the only thing that can distance Me from Myself…and that cannot be an option now, can it?

P.S- HE lied!

Kindly use the comment box to portray feelings or opinions stirred in the course of reading these… array of sentences. Or just tell me a lil’ sumfn boutchu.

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Blasphemy?

 

 

 

 

”First there was& “is” God; He got bored and decided to create angels.  For some time it was exciting but after a couple of eons with angels praising and worshiping Him and all what not, the routine got boring. Lucifer added some spice with the whole rebellion thing and shook up the place a little but after some eons boredom crept in again…and that was what planted the idea of the creation of man.  

Men were given the power to be gods on earth basically…. They were to rule their lives and destinies and earth however they pleased. Unlike the angels they were not compelled from creation to praise and worship God, they could choose…to serve Him, Lucifer or themselves.

The creation of Man in essence ended the boredom in heaven, because Men and their actions or inactions on earth served as entertainment for all the inhabitants of Heaven; and till this day there has never been a dull moment. “

A movie or a book or something I stumbled into led to the formation of this train of thought.

I like to think I’m a Christian, because as irreligiously barbaric as my childhood was I decided of my own freewill to walk in His ways or at least make a conscious effort to. But it seems that I have never been able to just “accept” some things without questioning them and although I feel guilty and a tad bit abnormal compared to my Christian sisters, I strongly believe that God gave us the power to sieve and muse before making decisions…because 1. It’s funner for our audience and 2. Well if He wanted sheep minded people He wouldn’t have made us the way we are…

The imbalance of our “stage” amongst other things make me wonder…most poor people are lazy but on the other hand a lot of hard working folks are poor and continue to labor in vain till death ends their misery, not all those that seek His kingdom first and obey every word in our rule book have every other thing on earth added onto them. If we are gods on earth to rule the earth as we please, is “every other thing” not fulfillment and the possession of the wealth of earth- our stage? Because when one dies nothing on earth really matters. There’s no point dwelling on suffering right now. I refuse to drift to that state of mind…

Moving on… the Israelites- amusing people- were and might still be God’s favorite and He made sure everyone knew it, which might explain why they always got away with their misdemeanors.  Daring Gentile nations  faced  the consequences of messing with them. They knew He loved them and more often than not they took advantage of that.

A year has almost gone by and BokoHaram, an unreasonable bunch of thwarts, have gotten away with messing with Christians and it just makes me wonder, not about His existence- there’s no question about that- but about the many things He allows happen.

Is it all a game? Is it fair to test someone and push them to their limit just to find out whether or not they are faithful? Or to get upset or term it as “sin” when that person breaks down and gives in to the filth and chaos that our stage is? It’s like taunting a hungry caged  lion  with the aroma and sight of a freshly killed antelope and then placing it in front of the lion to watch it decay…. Should that lion be punished for killing the first person it sees immediately it is set free?

Automobile companies make some vehicles specially to destroy them; test cases.  They choose what vehicles should be sold or destroyed, they decide the forms, shapes, uses, type of fuel…everything.

It is a tad bit reasonable to compare Man to automobiles, He decides what happens in the long run- free will or not. Whether He’ll overlook a man’s flaws or make abrupt judgment, those that are born to occupy space and those that are born to make history. So are we just puppets? Made for amusement?

The One that practically gave His (because they are basically one and the same) life for conceited marionettes … it is somewhat unnerving to conclude that we are just pawns in some bigger stage play He has set to happen in an unforeseeable future…  ‘Tis hard to understand God, for to understand Him fully is to have Him contained, bottled and to ponder that likelihood is futile.

So will I ever become that person with indisputable conviction? At the end of my act will I have fully understood to a content extent, the ways of our Director and His vision for this play?  Will the fear of inflicting His wrath upon myself eventually subdue my endless musings?  Or will I continue being an incessant source of amusement for my audience?

Does anyone share this notion? What are your views on religion and the happenings of the world or anything that seems to have no clear meaning to you? Kindly use the comment box to relay your deliberations.

My Virgin Mind

Can the vagina actually tear? I wonder. How far can it stretch? What’s its limit? I could find out,since there’s one not too far away but the idea of inserting all sorts-from omorogun for amala to pestle for pounded yam-is somewhat daunting. And what if it rips? *shivers*. Neyyy! I’ll utilize the ever reliable and unrippable Google. From what I learnt in physics I know that every object has its elastic limit-a point at which it can no longer be stretched-it becomes taut. And then it breaks.

What exactly led to this train of thought? Ha yes! my mind. How I came to liken the two baffles me. But like the Vagina,I want my mind to stretch,to be able to take in any object or topic,irrespective of width,depth or length ,feel its core,soak up its essence, absorb it and finally expunge it

To want to be all knowing is to want to live forever-unattainable. What’s more reasonable or plausible is to have little knowledge about almost every area or all knowledge about one area. But how far can our minds stretch? 3% is the miserly amount of brain function most humans utilize. Is it acceptable to liken it to the size of the omorogun that the vagina can conveniently take in? What happened to the remaining 97%? Is it acceptable to now conclude that the vagina can stretch farther than our minds can? Where’s the limit though? Can one at least get to the brink of the mind? What is the line between intelligent sanity and plain madness or intelligent madness and plain sanity? :s

It is with sadness and embarrassment that I admit that my mind-if likened to a vagina-is virgin; with a perforated hymen and that it has never been stretched farther than the width&length of my somewhat tiny finger(s). To be able to understand the intricacies of at least the game of chess, the scale of economics and business, music, politics, psychology of the human mind and a lot more is all I expect of my mind. Will a pestle make do? I wonder…

I want to be the superman of my age-not necessarily all knowing; being cognizant with different spheres or vastness in one sphere will do it for me.

That’s all folks.
Have y’all ever compared your minds to anything? Or tested your abilities? Or have you tried to make yourself a force to reckon with in your different fields? Do you ever dream of being the Wole Shoyinka or Einstein of your age? How do you intend to go about it? Or if you are already there how did you go about?
Please use the comment box to speak your minds and share your wisdom…

now that i know…

I have lied. To myself and to everyone else. ‘Tis true that I’ve been too busy trying to organize my life and there’s so much going on-mostly with my career, but I’ve had a few hours to myself, enough time to scribble something down. Whenever I try though my mind goes blank and I am unable to organize the words and thoughts flying around in my skull into a rhythm that might be understood by me, if not anyone else. Some call it a writers’ block, but as I am not a writer I’ll just call it brain freeze. *shrugs*

The noise from the generator, rats playing in the background and the voices in my head have made the desire to study somewhat ridiculous. In the midst of these series of sounds both within and without, I’ve been able to come up with this…

Enjoy.

 

Until yesterday I was happy. I remember playing hide and seek with Seriki my neighbor and as usual I hid behind the heap of dirt that has come to be not only a monument in my community, but also a source of livelihood for most of us. You see at times when there is no money to buy shoes or clothes in the house, mama and I will go to the heap of dirt and more often than not we usually found something. A mismatched pair of shoes or slippers or  pieces of clothing that mama would miraculously turn into a lovely shirt or trouser. Atimes Risikat would get plastic bottles and other things to sell and we would get our meals for the day. The stench it gave off has come to be a part of our life, everyone-old and young has become accustomed to it and somehow  are all dependent on it to provide one way or the other.

Seriki did not find me. Even if that was my regular hiding place. I think he has a mental problem. He’s mother tried to abort him because he was her 5^th child for an unknown man and she couldn’t bear to take care of him, but he’s what you’ll call an “agidi” child and he came out anyway. He’s my best friend.

Today is my 8^th year on earth. Papa woke me up and from his tone I should have known something was wrong but I was still swimming in the euphoria of being a year older, oblivious to the fact that I now had to take a major role in providing for my family. Happy, free, devoid of worry or fear, I felt content with running up and down clad it nothing but my “pata” (yoruba word for pant), I was ignorant of where our regular akamu for breakfast, gaari for lunch and sometimes bread for supper came from. I didn’t want more than I had and whatever my parent or Risikat my sister could not provide for me, I always found in the huge monument of dirt.

My unhappiness did not come into being when Papa told me to go and practice hawking bread with Risikat or when I almost got hit by a truck trying to sell to someone in a BRT (this was difficult as I am barely 5″ and the BRT was in motion). It came into being when I was given a slap trying to protect Risikat from the hairy looking  battery hawker that was trying to touch her breast .I was in shock when I realized later that he was one of the many hawkers that provided for my family one way or the other . The extent of my stupidity hit me when I mentioned it to Mama a few hours ago and was told that Risikat is just trying to provide in the little way she can. In other words, everyone knew and accepted it but me.  I know that this is wrong,because like all the children in the area I scream “ashewo“(slang for prostitute not sure if its yoruba or ibo) whenever I see a woman that is popular for sleeping around.
I’m still trying to comprehend all that I learnt yesterday. I am not happy that I was left to wallow in stupidity for so long because Mama was trying to protect me but now that I know is there really anything I can do about it?

Some hours ago, Seriki climbed in through my window like he always does and screamed “happy late birthday”. He knew something was wrong when my response did not match his and asked what the matter was. After telling him all that was wrong he looked at me for what seemed like ages and said “So does that mean that we won’t be able to play hide-and-seek again?”

So that’s it. I know it’s the 21^st century and most of us are better acquainted with the stories of war and natural disasters in other countries, but not so far away from us there is so much pain and suffering.  People get their daily bread from our garbage and although we cannot fix all the problems in our country remember what is said about little drops of water…I do not like that bad things are happening to people in different parts of the world, but Charity begins at home they say…  

Please use the comment box to convey your thoughts and opinions…

Yellow&Black Woes

Before I proceed I must make something clear. For Pete’s sake ‘I AM’ and ‘AM’ have TWO DIFFERENT MEANINGS. It is just one-kind to apply them to the same thing. E.g I am a girl & Am a girl. Do you see the problem here? Ehn? For those that can abbreviate ‘is’ sef, ‘I AM’ can be shortened to “I’M”. Somehow it irks me when I see this phrase being abused and massacred. So please people for my sanity just use “I’M”. Thank you

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I don tire for dis wahala. Na evriday all dis polic pipu dey colect moni,if no b police pipu na agbero pipu. My bus na 14 seater bus and na N70 I bin dey collect from customa bifor but now wey e bee say na 2 pipu dey collect money from me befor I reash last busstop I kon incriz am to N100. Customa dey complain but last last dey con gree wen dey seee say all of my fellow bus pipu incrize moni too…
Na N1400 I supose to dey make from each journi now o but by d time I gv all dose thif pipu (agbero and police) I go make N1200,I go con pay my condukto N500,dat mean say nah N700 I dey get from eash jouney now. If God hellep me I go go 4 to 5 times(wen ma turn reash for park),dat mean say nah at least N3500 I bin dey make everyday.
D house I dey live don scatta. Dem talk say dey no build am well and one day wen I dey road my wife call me and talk say all her belonging don scatta wd d house,dat she manage escape wd our pikin sef. E no b like say na big house oh. Na house wey get plenty shop inside and my friend Emeka dey slip for for him shop,na him I dey manage wit. Now my wife and my pikin and me join dey squat for my bus-d only property I get for dis life.
I lovee my wife-Nkechi-no b small. She dey work hard. After our house scatter Nkechi start to dey do cleaner work for many place. Sometimes she dey make money pass me sef. God use Nkechi bless me well well. Sometimes wen everytin don tire me for dis life na she dey give me hope. Na she dey make me happi. But one tn I no like dat she dey do na say, her hope plenti too much. She beliv say Junior our pikin go fit go skul. I dey ask am wit wich moni we go fit do dat one,she too stubbon sef,she just no wan hear say we b poor pipu,say our powa no fit reash dat level. She beliv say Junior go big man for dis life,before I dey try stop am so she no go too dey tink like dat,so her hope no go scata but now I dey just look am. I don tire,mayb God go ansar am.hmmmm
I no dey waste my time dey tnk of tomoro. Na as everiday come I dey take am. Lastweek I find shortcut for road wey I go fit avoid all doz crasse police pipu,I make N5000,but yesterday dey com find d place. Chai! Na everywere dem dey poshu us go.I don tire. Dis life don tire me.
Now I dey look for room I go fit manage wit my family. Mama junior don mis her mensis and fear dey cash mi,sake of say if she get belle again I no go fit…I no go fit do anytn again. She no dey complain but mi sef I no say bus no b place were woman and pikin supose stay, I follow Chibuzo fight one day becoz he dey try sleep wit Nkechi. Wetin I go do now ehn? How I go take do am? I no wan fail my family but at d same time life too hard for me. Nkechi tok say make I do private driver,if e no work wetin I go do? All dz tn dey scata my hed,dey shook me for bodi. Hmmmmm…

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Random ramblings

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In the dark of the night people will find her DUUUM DUUM DUUM!!!
In the dark of the night she will be gone DUUUM DUUM DUUM!!!
And then….BLEH!!!
Can’t remember the rest of the song Jo, but it’s from a cartoon (can’t remember the name either). There was a princess whose folks had to run away during war and they forgot her in the process so she grew up as an orphan. Eventually sha, after travelling and proving herself to be the real princess she was accepted into her family by her grandmother and she lived happily ever after. THE END*big grin*
I’m at a very shaky stage in my life at the moment. But for some reason I feel calm. Like everything will somehow be sorted and I’ll live happily ever after. Hehee. I’m serious though it feels like that part of a movie where there’s a hurricane going on and people are screaming, roofs are being torn off, everywhere is upside down but in the middle of all the chaos there’s someone (yours truly) standing there smiling with pink lipstick covered lips and long flowing hair. Besides that someone isn’t smiling because she’s oblivious to the chaos happening but because there’s an assurance from a higher power that everything will be fine. Of course she has to be nuts to believe such but she believes anyways. There’s sense in every nonsense no? Hehe
Anyways apart from that I’m in love. Yes, moi. I never thought I would but all of a sudden I feel a feeling that I’ve never felt before and the cause of this is moi. Yeah it is vain and silly but I’m in love with myself *now dodging rotten tomatoes from TitiA and Idy*. Hehe. I’ve grown from that unsure little rat to a confident calm young lady who isn’t afraid of making mistakes but who is ready and bold enough to admit occasional brain touch, learn and move on. So everyday I like me more and I wake up with a feeling of self appreciation and things. of course I don’t have a permanent smile stuck on my forehead thanks to some creatures I have to cohabit with *rolling eyes* and unforeseen circumstances but 80% of the time instead of whining about the bad and lack, I concentrate on the good and what I’ve been blessed with. For instance today I woke up grouchy and pissed at the idea of going to work, but at least I woke up, I could walk to the taxi park and I could afford to pay my greedy cab guy for his services. These are little things people take for granted. It’s easy to whine and worry and complain but all these things don’t solve half of whatever problem or situation birthed them. Yes it’s easier said than done but sometimes its better to just smile through the hurricanes that appear in life. They will appear whether or not you like it, they will cause whatever damage they were designed to cause but at the end of the day they will settle and if you are still standing it means you are strong and you have learnt how to face bigger hurricanes that will inevitably come.
Writing helps me. when I’m faced with any problem I write it out( e.g. someone at work is driving me nuts), then I write out the possible solutions (e.g. kidnap him, lock him up in a box for a while, torture, mutilate or just avoid him and plaster a smile no mater what.) and then I work towards my preferred solution. Chikena! And this helps with every other thing life throws at me really. Because I have learnt there is no point crying or frowning or starving or committing suicide or whatever. The truth is there is nothing new under the sun. If you think your problem is the biggest, you’re probably whining yourself- ask Google, someone, somewhere has done did it. It’s also best to man up and face your fears whatever it is. Worrying will only get you wrinkles…

Life isn’t fair, but really it’s the only life we have and we decide through faith, hard work and determination to not allow a few hiccups prevent us from achieving our goals. At the end of the day its better to die trying to be the bestest there is than to die crying about everything that prevented you from being the bestest you could have been.
So that’s it. I’m happy *now shaking bumbum and dancing* and no matter how bad the hurricane gets I know it wont last for ever, I know worrying will only give me wrinkles (and no guy wants a wrinkled face girl do they?) and so smiling with my cute pink lipstick covered lips while I face the problems head-on knowing that Baba God no go fail me is what I shall continue to do, no matter how crazy any one thinks I am.
END OF RAMBLING *big smile again*

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Daddy’s Girl…

My legs are spread open towards him and although the room is properly ventilated I could feel sweat dripping from my head. I am exhausted but I have to go on, this cannot be postponed. His voice is soothing, deep and assuring; he smiles briefly at me and continues to work his fingers into my exposed vagina. I could feel it coming and fast. I braced my self, took a deep breath, dug my nails into the mattress and pushed with all my might. He said those three words with a smile on his face “it’s a boy”. In my mind the doctor was mocking me. I looked at the thing that just came out of me, the thing that was the cause of all my life’s problem even in its absent state and wondered how many more horrors it will cause me now that it has manifested , I looked at ‘IT’ with disdain. Devoid of the emotions one is supposed to feel at this point, I met the doctor’s smile with a frown and shut my eyes, wishing everything that had happened and the cause-the intruder-away.
The seventh day was supposed to be the naming ceremony. I still had not touched IT despite my mother’s plea. Father had travelled. Jide the love of my life wanted nothing to do with me; I don’t blame him; who would want to be with a monster like me. Everyone blamed him for my predicament and as if that was not enough he was crucified when he refused to take responsibility for IT. So many catastrophes have happened, so much has been lost and the shame was unbearable. Everyone in school called me a harlot; I had been expelled a few months before graduation. Jide was suspended indefinitely and because of Father’s connections a restraining order was issued against his family.
I don’t know what day it is today, I have lost count. I heard my room door open but I didn’t move, thought it was mother coming to give me one of her speeches again, the woman is just so blind and naïve. Sigh! This person didn’t come straight to my bed like Mother does, but instead opened the curtains and switched on the fan. The footsteps are so light, I could hardly hear them, but from past visits I could tell who they belonged to. Father sat at the edge of my bed and touched my arm. I cringed.
“Tayo, why are you doing this to me?”

You haven’t seen anything yet. I will make sure you suffer.

“You are making your mother and siblings unhappy. I’ve sorted school out for you; they have agreed to release your certificate. I can arrange for any university of your choice in London”.

Bastard! After destroying my life.
“I will do anything to make you happy Tayo, just name it”.

Should I poison his food? No Mother will be devastated. Should I tell Mother the truth? You tried before remember- when it was just touching, before it got worse- but she refused to listen. She brushed it off.

“I can see you’re still in shock, talk to me…okay please think about it. I just want this family to be happy, especially your mother; with her blood pressure and all this is the last thing she needs.”

Oloriburuku how dare you try to use that against me!

“The doctor was suggesting that we take you for therapy for a while…”

Never! You won’t get rid of me that easy. I will make sure you suffer.
“Okay father, I will think about it and get back to you”

The next couple of days were better. I held the baby for a few minutes and when it cried instead of dropping it somewhere like I used to, I called Mother to take him. Maybe with time I’ll begin to feel something for it but now I saw it has a pet I had to take care of. Mother was happy, in her mind I was back to normal. I surprised myself actually. I started smiling, laughing and watching TV even the doctor was amazed at the rate of my recovery. Everything seemed normal. I scheduled a meeting with Father through a text message.
“I’m so glad you are better now Tayo. So what can I do for you?”

“You said you’d do anything to make me happy, I’ve come up with some things”
I detected a hint of nervousness in his voice when he said “anything at all. Just tell me”

“I want to be entitled to half of your properties. I want them to be in my name. I also want to be assured that when I travel to London you and Mother will take care of the child. If anything at all happens to Mother, the child or the properties I will tell the press that the Minister of a prestigious church repeatedly raped his step daughter and with what I know about DNA it won’t be too difficult to prove this. I also want Uncle Lekan to be a witness when you hand over the properties to me” he was about to speak when I held up my hand and said
“…and before you ask, no Father, I didn’t tell uncle anything. I just told him you wanted to see him. That’s all I have to say. If you have any additions or subtractions let me know”.
I don’t know where I had the courage to say all that but I did and I was relieved. I waited for his response…
“Why are you doing this to me Tayo? I made a mistake; please try to forgive me…”

“3times isn’t a mistake Father and if you were really repentant you wouldn’t have made me blame Jide and destroy his education. So please keep the stories to yourself. I am not negotiating. Its either you kill me-and add to your sins- or do what I asked for. And please I don’t want to have to call to ask for my pocket money or living expenses when I get to London. Send any amount you think I’ll need”.

A week later I was at the airport. All my demands had been met. For leverage I gave Father a copy of the DNA results proving that Oluwafemi is his son. Mother was happy, Father had nothing to worry about, the baby- Oluwafemi (my mother had eventually named him) and I was about to begin my life…

Okay that’s it people. Share your ideas via the comment box. Would you have done things differently? Should she have told her mother? Let me know your thoughts…

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till death do us part,or not…

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“Ah Linda, you are so amazing, but I have to start leaving” ,I tried to lift her off me, but her grip was firm. Chai I haff enterit today … she looked at me with intensity, I wish I could decipher what was going through her mind, wish I could read her eyes, but she’s so good at masking emotions. She finally loosened her legs from my waist and stood up, I made to stand up but she pushed me back to the chair, I wonder how this little creature could harness such strength. “Linda abeg nah, I promise this weekend we’ll be together, uninterrupted”. She didn’t say a word, just kept staring at me. She scares me, she also turns me on, she’s intriguing this beauty that stood naked before me. I made to stand up again, she knelt down, with her left hand she pushed me back ,with her right she grabbed me and slowly worked magic with her mouth, I haff definitely entered it today…

For the umpteenth time I check my watch, I can’t believe this is happening to me. I just can’t, I try to sit still but it’s just so hard to be calm. I mean, where did I go wrong? What am I not doing right? Sigh! The door opens and he walked in and even If I just checked the time, I check again. I didn’t know when I started screaming. “Ade where have you been ehn, since morning you left this house and you’re just walking in at 12.45. what useless work are you doing? Ehn Ade?” I think he tried to explain, tell me more lies, deceive me but I didn’t even bother. “I’m going to bed, I’m sure you’ve eaten something. Goodnight. Please don’t bother coming to the bedroom” .
As I lay in bed I considered my options. Should I take Cynthia’s advice? As annoying as Ade is, I’m still in love with him and I feel he loves me too. I can’t opt for a divorce. Never! It’s the one thing I’m afraid of, but I can’t let him continue cheating. I’m just not strong enough to share him with anyone. Besides what will I tell our kids? Yes I’m not as hot as I was 10years ago but I’m still beautiful, I’ve worked hard to maintain my size 10 figure. I still get hit on by men, so its not me dammit! It’s not! As the tears start pouring out, I make up my mind…I know what I have to do.
The ogbono soup is almost ready, I add the spices and taste it. perfect. Just one more thing. The powder. sigh! I hope this works-cynthia assured me … I add the powder, stir the soup, reduce the fire to the minimum and leave it to simmer, need to get the mortar ready for the yam….
He was considerate today, 11.45. I didn’t say a word. I took his briefcase from his hand and registered the shock in his eyes at my gesture. ”your food is on the table darling, made your favorite. When you’re done please come upstairs and take a shower, the water is warm for you ”. I don’t know if it was shock or fear but he didn’t even say a word, just kissed my forehead and went straight to the table like a good boy.

I woke up with thoughts of Ronke in my head. She looked so radiant in her pink underwear, so angelic. I nudged her gently. She woke up and smiled at me, my heart skipped beats. “I’m so sorry for yesterday Ronke, please…” she kissed me and I wondered why I hurt this woman. Never again, never again… she pushed me back and got on top of me….
I got to work late, the events of the morning still in my head. Wish I could run back home…maybe during break. The inevitable crept into my head. How do I call things off with Linda? She won’t find it funny one bit and I’m mighty scared of that lady. Sigh! I haff enterit. Smh…. By break time I had devised a plan. I called Linda and told her I was coming over.
After explaining to her, I braced myself for the worst. I already thought of all the things that could happen, its either she screams and makes a scene or she demands for compensation. Either way I was prepared. I don’t know how long I held my breath but when she said “No problem Ade, I understand completely” in a calm voice, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. But I was afraid of this woman, I waited for the bad part, this was just too easy. Surely she or the gods won’t let me get off this easy. And it came. Calmly she said “all I want is one last time with you and N1,000,000. My birthday is on the 13th and the least you can do is give me a present”. I agreed quickly. Not because it wouldn’t pinch my pocket but because she was so calm, so cold and she scared the hell out of me.
The sex was fantastic as usual, but for the first time I was thinking of Ronke throughout. I couldn’t wait for it to be over. When it was finally over, I wrote a check and left. That was easy, I’m just glad it’s over…

She picked up the check and looked at it. No emotion,not a tear drop,not even a wrinkle on her forehead. She picked up the phone vibrating beside her and said “Hello Cynthia, it’s done. Send me your account details”…

egg shells&glasses…

 

She left with just a small travelling bag. nothing else. It was almost as if she was taking a short trip to the next street…but WE knew. The way she looked at us with so much sadness in her eyes as we watched from the balcony. She wasn’t allowed to give us a hug. No explanations. She had to leave at the break of dawn,when the buses and taxis reported for duty…so the neighbours wouldn’t see…
I knew things were bad,the constant yelling,fights, the awkward silent moments, nights HE’ld sleep on the couch,or in the office. We were all on edge, walking on broken glasses…
As I waved goodbye,I wondered how or when things changed. I remember the picnics, the hugs, the lovely sunday outings. We were happy,comfortable…until Emeka-my baby brother-was born, I think…if I remember correctly HE lost a business deal/ his business went sour. That’s when it all started. But not immediately though, WE were bathing in happiness,naïve, blinded by ignorance and our little minds and of course emeka was so cute,sigh!
Then the blame game started,it somehow sank into HEz head that she was the cause. Till tomorrow I fail to understand that logic. But of course with relatives like Aunty This and Uncle That HE didn’t have to be reasonable. They knew it was the dark-skinned Yoruba witch they warned him not to marry that was the cause of all HEz problems now…she had to leave. And she did.
I wasn’t mad or sad or anything.I didn’t shed a tear-in public. It was my responsibility to ensure that my siblings were alright, especially emeka. with time I learnt. Grew up. With the help of an imaginery friend of course…
Time passed. I’v hated her,loved her,blamed her,liked her and loved her again. But our connection-if we had any-has been severed beyond repair. constant walks on broken glasses and eggshells have made me a tad bit cautious,weary,paranoid… She tries though,to hold on to the strands she manages to catch.
Its been 11 years to be precise…I’m trying small small,with time I’ll learn to love her without caution….still walking on eggshells for now but my feet doesn’t hurt as much as it used to…they’ve become stronger. I don’t blame her anymore…or HE either.
Emeka just walked in, rambling about the latest Chris Brown song. I smile at my baby brother,my first child…

Shattap already!!!

“Lord pleassse let 5o’ clock come on time pleasssee”, I mumbled this silently to myself while I worked hard to plaster a smile on my face. I’ve somehow gotten used to it. Feigning smiles and interest when I’m talking to someone I can’t really tell to shattap! At the end I’m the one who suffers pain in the jaw and a mad headache… right now I’m thinking of a million and one ways I could make her stop blabbing, sigh! If only I had winchful powers….
Aunty Sade went on and on, about how I should start finding/searching for a husband, how men were scarce nowadays, how my biological clock was ticking, how many diseases women have nowadays and how the only way to avoid this is by marrying quick quick. I don’t blame her really, it’s my father’s fault. The man refused to let me stay at home in peace, refused to understand that after a mad week at work I just wanted to spend the weekend in bed, he just had to drag me to this blasted party… I didn’t realise I was frowning until Aunty Sade asked what the matter was, of course I quickly arranged my face and told her nothing was wrong, made her believe that the sole purpose of my existence was to listen to her harass me. She continued whining of course…
When I finally got home I went straight to my room, I didn’t realize how much I had missed my bed… but alas sleep refuse to come! My conversation with that relative(yes madam Sade) of mine replayed in my head. She has refused to understand that it’s the 21st century and under no condition will I give up my career or my education for a man. She thinks the oyinbo people are spoiling girls of nowadays and doesn’t understand why a young lady should want to get an MBA or an MSC after university instead of getting married first. I’ve tried to explain to her but honestly the headache I get from plastering a smile on my face is less painful than the one I get from trying to make her see reason so I have worked hard to avoid her. Only for my dad to spoil all my efforts…
Another thing she doesn’t understand is why an unmarried woman should have a car of her own. She believes that this is a taboo ( I kid not) she thinks that I should have a vehicle only if I’m engaged or married to a man… the last time I made any effort to make her see reason I told her in the most polite way possible, that I’d rather have a car than stand under the rain, sun and whatever rubbish the weather comes up with or be at the mercy of the blasted conductors, okada men or taxi drivers- no one is normal nowadays. I mean why should I subject myself to inconvenience because of one man somewhere… and why in the world will I be meeting men at the bus stop…. Of course madam Sade had a fit. She made it a point to tell my father that he should be very careful because I’m being influenced by the oyinbo people…..mcsheeew
As I finally drifted to sleep I made a mental note to tell my father not to drag me to unnecessary gatherings (or any gathering that had aunty Sade in it for that matter). I don’t need a man to feel complete, I also don’t want someone giving me rubbish advice about men. If men finish in the factory so be it, but I will not make it a do or die affair and I’ll rather be a lone in peace than be stuck with a lunatic for the rest of my life. I think she has it embedded in her head that there’s a countdown going on and men her disappearing in arithmetic progression and to be a good aunt she must ensure her niece(unfortunately me) grabs a copy before the limited offer ends or something…honestly I fail to understand the workings of her mind. Sigh!! Of course like every female I want kids and a hot husband (tall, dark, slightly potbellied and presentable looking)but still with the rate of divorce and the recent story about the man that killed his wife (may her soul rest in peace, I must agree with aunt Sade on this one Nigerians are being influenced by oyinbo people, I mean which normal Nigerian will kill for no reason at all, too much SAW is bad, smh…) I’ll rather approach this marriage business with caution and plenty prayers…. My biological clock is ticking indeed, mscheeew!!!

do y’all think aunty sade is being an amebo or is genuinely concerned about me? I’m I being too non chalant about this issue. Lemme know what your opinions. Me or aunty sade…choose wisely (of course its a threat,hehe)_