He has a Side Chick……

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Side Chick, Mistress, The other woman; She is that girl who shares your man or worse enjoys your man more than you do. . She is the one your man pings early in the morning just to tell her “Good Morning Beautiful”. When he is with her, he is this cool guy who knows all the cool joints in town, they both sing along to Dorobucci on the radio. She is the one he takes along when he goes on business trips. It is just more convenient, she doesn’t have to think of who to leave her children with, besides she is more fun, she is the one he does acrobatic sex with, the girl who has enough time and energy to match his libido. You on the other hand are the wife, the one he has “married sex” with – the ” flam-bam-bam-yawn-are we done yet” type.

Yes he comes home to you every night but how is that going? Does he still hold you close to him every night, do you guys still play and fight under covers or does he turn his back to you and acts like he is too deep asleep to notice you have been tapping him. Yes he still buys you stuff, bags, perfumes, dresses and stuff, that’s if you are lucky though but then he buys them to ease his conscience after he and the side chick has spent a whole day shopping or worse. If the side chick is the “nice” type, she makes him buy them for you. She goes “Baby, This perfume is nice, your wife will like it”, “She doesn’t need it.” he responds frowning because he is a bit uncomfortable his mistress is picking a gift for his wife but she prevails on him.

But then I have news for you, this side chick, she usually doesn’t want to take your place, She has a boyfriend or even a fiance and so has no desire to chase you away. No, it’s only learners that operate that way. The wise side chicks are comfortable being just that, they even add you as a friend on Facebook, and they follow you on Twitter (Trust me, you most of the time don’t know they are your rival). They like the pictures of your cherub faced children, when you post your hubby’s photo captioning it as world’s best husband and gushing about how you love him to bits. They comment on it, they go “Awww, I covet”. (Yes they really covet and errr, they are already getting the better deal).

Some will even buy presents for your kids on their birthdays. You may or may not know the gifts are from them, it all depends on how far gone your husband is in this game. He could act like he got the gift himself or tell you its from this friend or colleague of his; Mrs Lagbaja  she really likes the child as he is her son’s birthday mate. You even tell him to call so you can say thanks. Of course the Mrs Lagbaja or Mummy Tamedun is to make you not suspect. Saying Lara or Jennifer my friend wouldn’t have sounded so good.

It’s not like you are totally clueless, some days you ask yourself how come he no longer comments on your hairdo, other days you wonder why he seemed to be impatient or downright mean. It’s Saturday you need to cook three different soups so you could stock the freezer for the week, the floors need to be mopped, the bathrooms cleaned and yes you need to get to the market, not forgetting that you have to take Sisi to her ballet class and Bobo to his Violin lessons. Come evening, you are dog tired and depressed that you have just one more day in the weekend. You smell of Onion, Garlic, Breast milk and baby reflux. You need a hug, you go to dear husband in the Bedroom.

“I am so tired” you say. That’s an opening. You expect to hear “pele baby, why don’t you come lie down here for a while” Instead you hear “What’s that smell?” It’s so horrible, can’t you use a glove or something if you need to cut Garlic or Onions? jeez you can be so annoying.” You have an angry retort on your lips and if you are the no nonsense type, you let off, you give him a piece of your mind, “yada, yada yada”.

Finally your suspicions get the better of you. “I need to know”, you say, so you wait till he is fast asleep and pick his phone to check through (Meanwhile women who want to keep their sanity will not do this no matter the temptation). Your heart rate is 360 beats per minute, yet you can’t stop yourself. You go ahead and boom you get more than you bargained for. Not only is there a side chick, but they are so damn close, he discusses everything with her, he even tells her how much he hates seeing fishnet on your head, he tells her when your six month old had her first teeth, you wince when you read how he tells her he is preparing for work and she goes “Baby be careful o, don’t injure Big Joe with your zipper again, ayam not ready to starve for a week again o”.

You almost had a heart attack. Big Joe? That has to be his ….. “OMG, starve for a week, how often do they do it?” you thought fighting a sudden desire to go stab him to death. But wait oooo, when did he injure Big Joe that you his wife did not know? You check the date of the chat, it was about a week ago and that was when it dawned on you, “won ti gba oko mi” you murmur. “Yeh. I am a housekeeper and mother of his children. This lady is the wife.” Suddenly, it’s clear, you run your fingers through your hair trying to remember the last time you made love or the last time you even had a glimpse of his equipment – “Big Joe”. “O ti pe mehn!” You mumble. You had not made love in over 8 weeks and neither of you had missed it. As for Big Joe, it must be close to a year you saw it last. Lovemaking sorry “meeting your husband” became a middle of the night thing after your second child, no foreplay (ki lonjebe), he just runs his hand over your breasts and you get the message, you spread your legs , he climbs on you and it starts, you feel nothing abi small sha, you are just too fagged out.

It hurts but what can be done? You think of giving him a giving him a big slap on the back to rouse him and demand explanations, but you realize you don’t want that confrontation. Tell Mama? Oh no, you don’t want to do that. No third parties remember. Then you remember someone who wouldn’t tell anybody else; Google! You open the Google search and type “He is cheating, what to do”. There is so much information. Wow!” You say feeling some relief that it’s not just you. Millions of women are in your shoes, there is so much advice to choose from but in the end, it is you who decide on what to do.

First you reply the last message she sent to your husband. It came in after he slept so unread. She tells him to dream of her as she will of him. She says she would be expecting him by 11.am the next day. You reply her “He sure would dream of you darling. However please don’t expect him by 11 tomorrow, he might be late. He has an errand to run for his wife at that same time. Have a nice night dearie.” Your teeth is clenched as you type, yet you derive some satisfaction. This way he will know you know.

So what next? Its morning and you wait for him to say something, you wait to see if he will confront you, but he says nothing. You watch out of the corner of your eyes as he watches you when he thinks you are too preoccupied to notice. Its 10 a.m and he is yet to yake his bath.10.30 am and still he is on the bed. You don’t offer him food even though you made his own portion. You wait till 11 am and tells him you need to talk to him. He doesn’t respond so you start anyway. You talk about how things had to change, that you need to shed and or share some responsibilities. Henceforth, ballet practice and Violin practice will be his call. Yes, he thought house helps were unnecessary but you need one and intend to get right away, this person will resume at 7am everyday and close at 7pm.  Friday nights would be date nights, you two alone anywhere but the house. You intend to go on summer vacation, Seychelles to be precise and he would be coming along. He listens to everything you say and at the end he says. “I am ready to do all you want”. I am sorry Babe”. But you say nothing.

It’s Not Important….

This was originally posted on my former blog: toyinfab.blog.com

In case you missed it: enjoy.

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I looked at him and wished I could rest my head on his shoulders, the urge was so strong and I was having a hard time controlling it, I thought of what he would think if I did it, I wondered if he would be appalled or just enjoy an opportunity to give comfort to a beautiful girl in need. Looking around, I imagined what the other occupants of the bus would think too. His face was handsome and clean shaved with no stubble in sight, a smooth face; just what I needed to run my palms over, I thought sighing. I thought of saying hello but decided against it.

I needed comfort badly, a massive headache was just reaching its peak, my heart too was aching from hurt and my eyes from the sleepless night. The last time I closed my eyes was 2.00 am when I saw the message, I silently rebuked myself for giving in to the temptation to read Juwon’s messages, I should have gone back to sleep after using the bathroom which was what woke me in the first place, but I had seen my Blackberry beaming its red light, checked it and saw I had a message on my Blackberry Messenger, I should have known that whatever Juwon wrote will only make me depressed.

***

It was the usual topic that causes all our flights, the question of when I would join him in the states,I sent him a message on BBM telling him how I thought the ring he placed on my finger for three years now was a sort of a bondage and not really signifying any intention for marriage. I told him I was going to ship his ring back to him unless he comes around to see my people and choose a day for our wedding, I was annoyed and I conveyed it in my chats, I was sick of telling every man that comes my way off just because I have a ring on my finger,I told him of the days when I feel the need for a man to hold me, I told him of the lonely nights I spend in my flat, shivering from the cold and on hot nights wishing I had a man to stand up from the bed and put on my big generator, I told him how at my 30th birthday the previous month my mum had almost broken my finger trying to wrench off the useless (her words) ring on my fourth finger. I told him I didn’t understand how his wanting to concentrate on his PhD program affected our getting married, I reminded him that we still had a long way to go in preparing for marriage, I reminded him about how our bid to get a residency visa for me would only be possible after marriage and how that might also take a considerable amount of time, I ended my talk by telling him how much I love him and how much I hated to bug him.

Juwon was online throughout my ranting, I kept seeing the telltale ‘r” on BBM that signified he was reading, I waited for a response but I never got any, I was upset that he didn’t respond, I dialed his number but he didn’t pick, after like an hour of tossing,turning and hissing I went back to sleep only to wake up at 2.00am and see his response, the one that kept me awake for the rest of the night.

*****

The bus was stuck in the usual traffic, I checked the time and I saw I still had at least an hour to get to work before I could be considered as late, that meant I could relax and take my mind off the traffic, I checked out his shoulders again, strong I thought once again pushing away the desire to rest my head on it. I imagined how it will feel if he wrapped me in his arms and pushed the thoughts away. I looked at the messages, went back to the response and my heart ached yet again as I read it;

“I can’t sleep……”

“I keep thinking of why you disturb me about these things every time”

“I am wondering what it is that is chasing you and putting you in such a rush”

“please I need peace of mind to face my studies here…..stop pestering me with things that are not important.”

“However, if you are so much in a hurry then……..”

If there was a suggestion I could give RIM it will be that they should make the BBM application such that you could underline some words in messages for posterity sake. In my mind I underlined the “pestering”, ‘‘unimportant things” and the “if you are so in a hurry….” part. To Juwon, my desire to be his wife was not important, my burning desire to get married at thirty was also not important and of course if I was in a hurry I could go to hell or whatever it was he meant by the uncompleted sentence.

******

I sighed and decided it really shouldn’t be important if I placed my head on the stranger’s shoulder so I placed it gently, he froze and then adjusted so I can place it well, I could feel the eyes of the other occupants of the bus boring holes into my back, but also shrugged it off as unimportant, they couldn’t be sure we were not lovers anyway and I quickly hid my ring finger. I saw it as unimportant when he asked for my name, phone number, Blackberry pin and office address. It didn’t really seem like a big deal when we met for dinner that very evening, neither was it a big issue when I spent a night in his house a week later.

****

“Hi baby, I am at the airport”

“You are traveling?” “To where? “

“I’m not traveling, I just arrived”

“You just did?” “Arrived where?”

“MMIA of course, I need you to come pick me”

“You didn’t say you were coming”

“Yeah, I didn’t…..it was meant to be a surprise but you don’t seem excited, I thought you would be.”

“I don’t?” “Oh, I am glad, just shocked. I will leave the house now” I said dropping the call before he could say another word.

My forehead broke out in perspiration immediately, I thought of the things I had done in the past one month and was filled with sudden shame.

I picked my phone hurriedly and began the necessary weeding of text messages and call history.

I stepped into the sunshine and flagged a cab, I told the driver to head for the airport and sat quietly at the back, my heart thumping with dread, I felt like my guilt was written all over me and tried to force excitement into my heart. It didn’t work so I started psyching myself up chanting ”the things I have done, Juwon must not know” all the way to the airport….

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Author: Toyinfab

Young, beautiful…..allergic to nonsense

Toyinfab has written 16 articles for us.

11 Responses

ololade 04/12/2012 9:01 pm

Nice one,keep it up

onceuponafatum 04/12/2012 9:43 pm

OMG! she better not tell him cos he will definitely use it against her to break-up with her. Great story …. I totally relate

Olasheni 04/12/2012 11:05 pm

Pls I need the tail end pls

9jaBloke 04/12/2012 11:55 pm

We uncannily provide the leverage for fate to throw the kitchen sink at us…………..sometimes! Quite an intriguing short story, one that holds so much lessons in that oft mouthed cliche: Had l known! Nice one Tosin.

ololade 05/12/2012 1:18 am

I totally agree wit u on dis one.

Mag Fawibe 05/12/2012 7:32 am

Nice piece Toyenyen!! Keep it up darling sister, I see you winning an award so day!

Somi 05/12/2012 9:42 am

Ha han… She should have told the Juwon guy that it was over na. Before moving on to the next one. After underlining all those key phrases in his chat, I thought she would give him marching orders, if she had then anything she does with the new one would be perfectly acceptable. Anyway sha…. Good work. Would love to read the next chapter.

Anonymous 05/12/2012 10:01 am

Nice one………

egbeyemi omorilewa 05/12/2012 11:20 am

ahh! aunty toyin dis one superb gani o!

zebbook 05/12/2012 7:32 pm

Wowza!!! Tuale mama, this is BEAUTIFUL!!! Kai, I love it mehn.

Bukola oyat 06/12/2012 5:47 pm

Wooh that’s great story can’t wait for d conclusion.

 

 

 

 

Not So Happily Married ……. Episode Twelve

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click here to read previous episodes of NSHM

I could almost hear my heart beat in my chest. How long had he been standing there? He couldn’t have seen anything, could he? If he had seen us, he wouldn’t stand here with that needy look on his face.

Oh God, what is wrong with me? Why am I not rushing into his arms, kissing him and telling him how much I wanted us to settle our issues?

“Boye, please be rational.” I heard him say.  My vision blurred at his words, my eyes clouded with unshed tears.

What have I become? I thought, leaning against a door. Why am I so confused, so disoriented?

“Boye”. I heard him call. He was close to me now,  the scent of his body spray teasing my nostrils.

“Things are not the way you think they are, that’s why I am here, to end this anguish for us both.”

“Did you have to come? You didn’t have to.”

“Errrm”  Someone cleared his throat. It was Femi. I had forgotten he was there. Jite and I glanced at him.

“Boye, I will be going downstairs to join the others. I think you should talk to your husband but if you are bent on throwing him out, I will be here. That’s a joke.” he added at Jite’s startled look.

I watched him leave, his words echoing in my head. “If you are bent on throwing him out, I will be here”

Is that what I have been doing? Throwing him out? Does Femi now say such things to me?

“Let’s find somewhere to sit Boye.”

I led the way to my room and he followed.

*****

I am not a saint. Omoboye’s behavior was infuriating me and I wanted to do what my head was telling me. Turn back and look for an ATM machine to withdraw money from.

But I felt I had to do the best that I can to salvage our marriage. Heck! We hadn’t even done six months and we already looked and sounded like a marriage counselor’s nightmare.

I followed her to her room thinking of Femi’s remark. What did he mean by he was there for her? Was he planning to take advantage of Boye? I felt my fists clench at the thought. Would he dare? They were friends, they work together. That was all I knew, so what was that comment about? I didn’t want to dwell on such unpleasant things and decided to focus on Boye and the things we need to discuss.

I took in the room, “great place.” I said just to break the silence.

“Yeah.”

“The whole place is so peaceful and quiet.”

“Yeah.”

Okay, this is going nowhere. I thought.

“Omoboye, let’s talk.”

“Okay”.

“First thing, I am sorry for not telling you about Skipper. I will like to do that now.”

“Not yet Jite.” She said.

“I am going to faint if I don’t say what’s on my mind now. I feel so guilty and dirty. I just have to say it.”

My heart constricted at her words. I swallowed the saliva that instantly pooled in my mouth, my hands shook in dread. She feels guilty and dirty, she feels guilty and dirty…….why would she feel guilty and dirty? I felt a faint headache starting as I said the words over and over in my head

****

If we were going to talk, we might as well bare it all. I had made up my mind I was going to open up to him only that the decision was easier to make when he wasn’t there, seeing him face to face , it was hard to talk.

But still, things had to change and there was never going to be a good time. He needed to hear everything and then he could decide if he still wanted me.

“Jite” I began pausing as I saw the fear on his face.

Oh my God, he knows already and it scares him. But I felt compelled to say it.

“Jite, Femi touched me.”

“Oh Lord”. He whimpered burying his head in his palms.

“It wasn’t a touch touch like that. It’s not what you think.”

****

“So what kind of touch was it?” I asked raising my head up.

“I was upset, I was crying and then he was trying to comfort me.”

“In the room?”

“No, Jite, we were outside, just by the door. I didn’t even plan to cry, the tears just started flowing when he asked why I was without make up and if I was having problems with my husband.”

“He was hugging me, consoling me and then he placed his hands on my bum.”

She paused.

“And….”?

“And nothing Jite, nothing. I stood there, I didn’t flinch, I didn’t remove his hands, I didn’t say he should remove it, I did nothing, not for several minutes and that’s why I hate myself so much right now. How could I stand there and do nothing? I have always imagined myself as the kind of girl that took no nonsense, as the type nobody except my husband could touch. But Jite, I let Femi touch me. I don’t know who I am again. I find it hard to recognize me.”

I said nothing. I just stared into space for several seconds.

“So where were you going ?” I asked

“He said there was this sightseeing organized by some of the guests. He wanted us to go too.”

“I see.”

“What else were you going to just stand there and let him do?”

“Nothing. I swear. He offered to take me back inside the room so we can talk but I said no.”

“The bastard.” I said through clenched teeth.

So Femi is one of those people I have heard about all my life. The Lizards who stand around waiting for cracks in a marriage’s walls so they can sneak in, and to think my wife just stood there and allowed another man touch her backside. My own property, the one I was supposed to be the only one that ever touched.

Easy Jite, don’t be too hard on her, remember why you are really here and be grateful that it didn’t get worse than that and above all be thankful that she told you.

“Anyway, I am grateful that you told me this Boye”. I said placing a hand on her exposed knee.

“I know you very well or at least I think I do. I know you are not the wayward type and I will like to believe that you won’t cheat on me. So I am not going to dwell on what happened between you and Femi. All I will say is you won’t be working with him ever again. I think as your husband. I can still say that right? I am still your husband or aren’t I?”

****

“Yes Jite. You are my husband.” I said warmth filling me and removing some of the guilt that I felt.

I don’t know if it was the hand that he placed on my knee or hearing myself call him husband but I was suddenly so aware of him. I smiled at him, my heart open and ready to make peace as my mind visualized a night of passion.

“Alright then Boye, so we are done with that. Now to the Skipper issue, I am sorry I didn’t tell you about her.”

“Did you read the note I gave you in your Mum’s house?”

“I don’t think I did. I didn’t. I hope I have not misplaced it though because I can’t even remember where I placed it.”

“Don’t sweat it. What I wrote there was that Bisade is not pregnant for me and that I am sorry once again about what happened with her. Right now, I am hoping you would forgive me totally. I know you still harbor hurt in your heart and that’s why you can’t trust me. I can’t blame you too much. It’s only human but Boye, we need trust if this is going to work. We can’t keep doing this or we would have to dissolve this marriage.”

“God forbid. Anyway, God will only forbid if Skipper’s pregnancy is not yours.” I added searching his face.

“No baby. I dated Skipper years ago. I am sorry I didn’t tell you about her, she was someone I wanted to forget. It was a turbulent relationship, she was not only a sex addict, she also had Borderline personality disorder, she was clingy, controlling too. It was more than I could handle. I just wanted to forget that one year of my life.

“Yet, you kept her pictures…”.

“I know it’s crazy to keep them, but I am the kind of person who finds it hard to trash pictures, messages or any other thing that connects me to someone. Even if I have forgotten that they exist.”

“So where did you meet her? School?”

“During NYSC.”

“Oh!….so she is the weirdo you once mentioned that you dated during service. The one you said got a nick name that had to do with a skipping rope just because she had an uncanny ability to skip classes and still pass.”

“The very one.”

“Oh! Oh my God!” I covered my mouth as the pieces fell into place.

“So that was why I thought the name was familiar.”

“You know she called the morning after we made love all night. That was back in Zanzibar. You were sleeping and you asked me to check who was calling you. I did and I saw Skipper and felt the name sounded familiar. Somehow I saw a text she sent to you where she said she loved you and had something to discuss with you, something that was very urgent. I decided to assume that it was Bisade’s name that you stored as Skipper.”

“Are you serious? So that’s why your behavior changed; I kept worrying about what it could be. Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t. I also deleted the message and the call record and I felt ashamed afterwards and couldn’t tell you because of that.”

“You see why we need to talk to each other. To think you were obsessing over someone that means nothing to me.”

“Jite, you know this is so funny.” I said putting a hand to my mouth to suppress laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“As in I am a joke. I kept looking for flaws in her; a pimple, darkened knees or something and yet she had all of these issues and looking at her you wouldn’t know.”

“Yes, you wouldn’t. At least not until she opens her mouth.”

****

She was smiling. I felt all the tension in me ebb away. I stood up from the couch, pulled her up and embraced her.

“Jite, hold on.” She said sighing.

“We are not done”.

“Okay. What else is on your mind?”

“I think I may never be able to conceive.”

“And why would you think that?”

“It’s just a gut feeling that I have. Besides I have had enough time to take in since we got married.”

“Relax Omoboye. No need to worry. I want children, I am not going to pretend that I don’t but the fact remains that I want you more than I want children so not having them won’t change what I feel for you. It was part of the things I wrote in that note. Children or not, I will still love you. Worst case scenario, we will adopt children. I keep thinking that there are several children out there praying to God for a mummy and daddy, we could be the answer to their prayers especially if we can’t have ours.”

“Jite….hmmmm….are you sure? Because all these things are easier said than done ooo especially since we both know this is my fault. ”

“Shhh, Boye. Don’t go into that”

“You see. It still hurts you to think about it, so you are pushing the thoughts away.”

“No Boye. You are not entirely right. True, it hurts that we might have been parents by now but I am willing to let go of all of that and see what the future holds.”

“Jite, I just hope that future holds something positive because Mum promised to make my life a living hell if I don’t have a protruding stomach or a baby by our anniversary.”

I laughed out at her words.

“Are you for real?”.                                                                                                                             

“Yes , she said plenty things o about how she will make sure the whole world knows what I did and how my life will be miserable. Really scary things o”

“There is no problem baby. Your mum can’t cry more than the bereaved. Besides who says anything is wrong with you. It’s still early days Boye. We haven’t even been married six months yet. I need you to get over the paranoia and just relax or we could go for a test just to know if everything is okay.”

“Why does that sound so scary Jite?”

“Don’t be scared. Like I said earlier, I will still love you, Children or no Children”.

“Oh Jite, I don’t deserve you.” She said sitting on my laps and wrapping her arms around my neck.

“No, baby. I think we deserve each other. We are both crazy”.

*****

“I think I am the crazier one here Jite.” I said pressing against him.

“Well, since you insist, I  have to agree that you are the crazier one.”

“Something about us is odd, Jite. I feel like we always do this and then we go back to our quarrels.”

“You mean we always make up somewhere out of our own house and then not long after something else happens that takes us back to where we started.”

“Exactly!”

“So what do you suggest? That we stop making up?”

“I don’t know Jite. I am just tired of our wahala.” She said frowning.

I laughed at her words and tickled her ribs till she joined in the laughter.

“I have a suggestion.” I said when we stopped laughing.

“I think we should do a vow renewal.”

“No. Jite. That’s a no no. Vow renewal when our marriage is not even up to a year?”

“It doesn’t matter; even if it’s two days into marriage. What matters is we know why we want to do it. You and I know our wedding day vows weren’t exactly heartfelt. We know our wedding was just a show for our guests.”

“You are right though. So the vow renewal will be like the one where we say our heartfelt vows right? I think I like the idea.”

“I knew you would. We will organize something small, invite some of our friends and do it. No priests, no dressing up, just two souls baring their hearts to one another.”

“Won’t our friends suspect that something is wrong with our marriage?”

“Do you care if they do? Boye, we need to start paying less attention to what people think. Let them think what they will so long as we are happy.”

“Okay then. But I don’t agree with the no dressing up thing oo. Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well and so we are going to make it a grand party”.

“Seriously, Omoboye, I want  a small party.”

“Leave story jare husband and kiss me. Kiss me like your very life depends on it, then I want you to make love to me, do it like I am this bad girl that you want to set straight, like you want to punish me for all the stress I have been putting you through.”

“You have been watching porn?” I asked before shutting her up with my mouth.

*****

Sometimes you think you know what your husband can or can’t do and then he shocks you by doing the unexpected.

The time for Dinner came and we went down. We were all over each other, basking in the afterglow of great sex. I made sure we sat at a table far apart from everyone else. I wanted to avoid Femi as much as I could and hoped that he would do the same.

For a long time, we ate our dinner in relative seclusion. We were undisturbed save for the occasional one or two people who came around to chat with us. Femi was the last person I wanted to see, I still felt some shame for allowing him to touch me the way he did  and so I was very uncomfortable when he walked up to our table.

“Hello Mr&Mrs, you guys seem cozy; everything cool in conjugal land now?”

And then Jite spoke through clenched teeth.

“Femi, excuse us please.”

“Sorry to bother you. I was only being nice.”

Femi looked sincere as he spoke and I could have been fooled if I hadn’t recognized the mischievous glint in his eyes. Jite wasn’t impressed either.

“Thank you Femi, we appreciate your niceness. Now excuse us.”

“What’s with the attitude? Is it my fault that you guys are having problems?”

He said that aloud and my eyes darted around the room desperate to see if anyone was taking notice. They were; several pairs of eyes were trained on our table.

“No, it’s not your fault.” Jite replied. “But let me warn you, the next time you as much as lay a finger on my wife, you would wish you were never born.”

I fixed my eyes on Jite, my heart doing flip flops. I had never seen him that angry. His fists were clenched, there was saliva hanging at the far end corners of his mouth.

“Jite, please ignore him.” I pleaded. “Let’s not cause a scene.”

“Baby, stay out of this.”

“Wow, wow! Such honesty amongst couples. This is so cute.” Femi said.

“But Omoboye seriously? I can’t believe you told him about our small adventure this afternoon. Makes me wonder if you also told him about how I use to ram you so hard, you farted for …….”

He didn’t finish the sentence before Jite’s fist shut him up.

I was mortified. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me up. I still don’t know the one that affected me most; the shocked look on the faces of the other diners, the damage that Jite’s fist did to Femi’s mouth, the clicks of cameras as  pictures were taken or the look of excruciating pain on Jite’s face as he turned towards me.

P S: Ladies, do you think Boye should have told Jite about the bom bom incident? Do you think she would have been better off not talking?

 I find it hard to make up my mind on whether it’s better to hold back some things or spill all .

Not So Happily Married …. Episode Six

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For Previous episodes, please click here

How stupid you are Omoboye, how stupid. How did you let this girl do this to you? But you have a brain right? Don’t you? You can think for yourself Omoboye, can’t you? I asked myself those questions in quick succession as I read Boladale’s messages.

She had put a crying symbol after I said she wouldn’t dare get pregnant.

“Boye, please I am sooooooooory. In fact I am dying here bits by bits.”

“Die quick bitch” I thought surprising myself. I wasn’t going to say a word to her again, I was sure of that. The rage I felt was like nothing I ever thought I could feel.

“Omoboye, my life is messed up. The guy I’m pregnant for is a colleague and he is married. We just had a one night stand and we used protection, I don’t just understand what happened.”

“Yes, bitches never understand.” I wanted to say; instead I switched off the phone.

“She must pay.” I muttered under my breath remembering how she had been the one to start it all when Mope – our other friend got pregnant. It shouldn’t have been our concern or even mine and at that moment I cursed Blackberry and the opportunity it provides for meaningless discussions to happen. She had been the one to send me a message that Mope was pregnant. I hadn’t seen anything wrong in it as long as the father was ready to marry her but she had insisted that it was wrong and selfish of Mope, that she had been too desperate and must have intentionally gotten pregnant just so the man could marry her.

I had been reluctant to judge and had simply said; it’s not a big deal as long as the guy marries her.

“No, he is not marrying her.” Bola had announced. She had added that she didn’t feel any pity for Mope and I shouldn’t also. Fool that I am, I had gone with her to Mope’s place a week later and instead of providing her with succor, I had joined in lecturing her on how it was bad to be pregnant out of wedlock. You would think I was a virgin with the way I had acted all sanctimonious delivering my lecture. I had told her how I believe a woman can decide when or when not to get pregnant and that it was such an insecure thing to trap a man with pregnancy.

As expected, it had been a big problem when I got pregnant myself, how do I face the same people and announce that I was pregnant. Wouldn’t I look like a hypocrite? And so I had decided to terminate the pregnancy. It sounded like the easy way.

Sitting there and looking at the phone in my hand, I told myself it would have been easier to apologize to my friends for being a hypocrite and let them know I was pregnant. Isn’t that what Bola is doing now? I asked myself.

“I am a joke.” I muttered ignoring the circles Jite was drawing on my shoulders. Bola’s situation was even worse, yet she is having her baby while I had aborted a baby whose father was ready to marry me.

“Baby what’s wrong; you are not looking too happy?” Jite said turning my face towards him.

“Jite, Bola is pregnant.”

“She is?” “That should be good news.” “Aren’t you happy for her?”

“I am it’s just that the father is married.”

“Oops! That’s a tricky one and wrong too but don’t forget she is a grown woman and is responsible for her decisions so that shouldn’t make you feel down.”

“Yes.” I replied absentmindedly.

I had a sudden urge to tell Jite everything but I was sure it would be a bad idea. So I decided it had to be the secret I will carry to my grave.

I resolved to concentrate on getting pregnant and at the same time look for a way to make Boladale pay.

____

We left few minutes later. I had lost interest in everything and just wanted to leave the beach and set the plan forming in my mind in motion. It was simple, give an overdue apology.

We entered the room; there was a note on the freshly made bed. “Dinner at 7” it read. I checked the time; 6.05pm. Time enough to do this I thought slipping out of my beach wear.

Jite’s back was turned to mine; he was trying to remove his wristwatch.

I went down on both knees and held this leg.

“Baby, what’s this? Why are you kneeling?” He asked turning to face me.

“Please Jite, let me remain this way. I need to be on my knees, I want to ask for your forgiveness.”

“Fine, but please stand up and put on your clothes.”

“No, Jite let me be like this. Please indulge me, please my husband.”

“Okay Omoboye, but I don’t like you kneeling like this before me; it makes me feel like I am maltreating you.”

“You are not Jite. I just want to say some things. I might sound stupid, in fact I think I would sound stupid, but allow me and please don’t laugh. Please.”

He nodded and so I began;

                                                              ” Before you, Jite,

                                                               before your blessed presence,

                                                               naked I kneel…

                                                               a prodigal…

                                                               lost in your love…”

                                                                         An aching prodigal,

                                                                        kneeling at your feet

                                                                        An aching prodigal,

                                                                 Who would make miracles

                                                               To understand the simple given

I was so afraid he would laugh, but he didn’t. He just pulled me up when I was done and hugged me hard.

“Christopher Okigbo; Heaven’s Gate.” He said simply, pulling back to look into my eyes.

I nodded. black_love_art_2~~element286

“Jite I am sorry, with all of my heart soul and body. I am sorry. I truly regret aborting that child.”

The tears were streaming down, it was easy to cry, I was feeling real pain. The anger and thirst for revenge forgotten for the moment.

****

She is so beautiful. It was the only thing I thought of as I looked into her eyes, she wasn’t looking at mine, she just kept murmuring about how sorry she was. I felt my heart ache.

“It’s okay baby. Please stop crying. I am also sorry for how I have been. Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have been that hard on you. I am sorry.”

“Jite its okay, I deserve everything that happened.”

“No, Boye you don’t. Love forgives all, I should have forgiven you and I had no excuse for cheating on you. I am so sorry about that, please forgive me. I promise to cut all ties with Bisade. I won’t even wave to her if you don’t want…”

“Sshhhhh”, she said looking into my eyes. “It’s okay Jite. I forgive you.” But I won’t forgive Bisade. I added under my breath.

I was relieved; it felt good to finally admit that I was wrong. She pressed her body to mine and I rubbed her bare back.

“Boye, we should still have some minutes before dinner right?”

She didn’t answer, she only nodded.

“How about putting that time to good use.”

“How about skipping dinner altogether.” She replied.

“Skip dinner ke, baby you would need that food oo because I intend to exercise my right as a husband this night and I must warn you it might be a bit exerting.”

“I can’t wait Jite.”

Much later, after we had made love for what seemed like the hundredth time, she asked a question;

“Jite, do you still have the condoms?”

“Baby, don’t tell me you are now addicted to those things, just when I was thinking we should get you pregnant.”

She smiled then running her fingers through my hair.

“Would you forgive me if I said I gave it out knowing this Island would hate such things?”

“No baby, I won’t forgive you I will have to punish you for that.” I added claiming her lips.

*****

He still snores, I thought with a smile as I removed his hand from where it lay possessively on my chest. I was so happy I could actually forget that I needed to deal with Boladale and Bisade, only I wasn’t going to. It didn’t matter that I did not know how to go about it or what exactly to do, I just knew I had to find a way. It’s the only way I will feel less like a fool. I ran a hand over my flat stomach wondering if I could be pregnant already. It amazed me how something that I had never bothered about was suddenly so important.

My mind went to the previous night and how the Jite I knew had re-appeared.

“Why did it take me so long to apologize?”

It was a question I found hard to answer. Perhaps I am a proud person after all I reasoned wondering why I had always seen myself as humble.

To think I kept telling God I was sorry, asking him to forgive me while neglecting the human I wronged.

My husband was here and it was major. My heart constricted with love as I remembered how during one of the bouts of sleep that we had during the night I had stood up to use the toilet. He must have woken up and realized I wasn’t there. It was his voice that brought me out of the toilet.

“Baby, Sweets where are you?”

I had been out in a flash, alarmed at his tone.

“Jite, I am here what is it?.” I asked as he wrapped me in a warm hug.

“I woke up, I didn’t see you, and I was worried.”

“Worried how? What could possibly happen to me here?” I had asked my heart glad at being so loved.

“Nothing. Baby. Nothing will happen to my wife, now let’s go back to the bed.”

I still wanted to use the toilet but I didn’t have the heart to say so. Not with the way he held me.

The shrill sound of Jite’s phone broke into my thoughts and also reminded me that my phone was still switched off.

“Baby, check who is calling”, Jite said in a very sleepy voice.

“Oga when will you stand up or we are not going out today?” I asked walking to the table where the phone was.

He mumbled something that was quite in coherent.

“The caller’s name is Skipper.” I said shrugging as I heard his snoring become renewed.

See, I am not the type of girlfriend or wife that checks her husband’s messages or go through his call history and so I would never have seen the message if Jite hadn’t installed an SMS flasher on his phone.

Just one word caught my attention before the message disappeared; “Sweetheart”. My first thought was who the heck was calling my husband sweetheart and then I went to the inbox to check the message. It was from the person that had called earlier; Skipper.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk as soon as you get back, there is a big problem on my hands here and you are the only one that can help with it. I Love you.”

“Sweetheart”, “problem”, “only one”, “Love you”; words that stuck out and brought a dull ache to my temple. “Who is Skipper?” I muttered under my breath; a memory dancing on the fringes of my mind. There was something about that word, “skipper” that was familiar only I couldn’t place it. I knew I would remember if I put my mind to it but first I deleted the message and the call record.

Not So Happily Married…. Episode Four

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MISSED PREVIOUS EPISODES? CLICK HERE

My eyes were bloodshot, a far cry from what you would expect from a new bride. I stood up from the bed, stretched and went to the wardrobe to get my make up bag.

 

Subtlety is the key and I know that. No one expects a “just waking look” to show traces of makeup. So I applied a little foundation to conceal the bags under the eyes and a hint of black eye shadow to give a smoky look. I returned the kit to the wardrobe, placed myself carefully beside Jite. I paused for a minute to adjust some settings on the camera. Shutter sound and flashlight off, I placed my head on Jite’s chest and took the picture.

 

He didn’t rouse from sleep at all. I understood that he needed to sleep after the stressful day we had. I used the picture as my BBM display and put the message;

“First day of forever! Bliss…hitched and ecstatic.”

 

Jite and Omoboye (2)

The Yoruba people will say two people cannot be deceived at the same time. If the person who is being lied to doesn’t know, the person who is lying knows he is lying. I had no guilt for the deception. I was miserable but the world didn’t have to know.

 

Who would see the message and imagine that we had both gone to bed after a shouting match that people two rooms away could have heard.

I had surprised myself with the divorce word. It was unplanned but I was totally out of control.

He had burst out in laughter immediately I talked about divorce.

“Omoboye, please don’t make laugh. I am not in the mood for laughter. You? Divorce? You won’t do that Honey. You love public opinion too much for that. You would sooner die than face the stigma of divorce especially so soon.”

“Oh, you think I won’t abi? Keep this attitude up. See if I won’t. I don’t think you realize how much I wish I could be out of this room, out of this marriage, out of it all.”

“Who brings novels to their honeymoon? Why are we even doing the honeymoon anyway, we might as well not bother. You could tell your mum to keep her money, that we don’t need it. Tell her we are the worst couple that ever existed, that we don’t deserve favors. Tell her who your wife really is; tell her what you really think of me, make sure you include how you think I’m a vile, vain, baby killing monster.”

“I’m glad you know what you are.”

“You are glad I know what I am?”  I shrieked

I picked a pillow and threw it at him.

“How dare you even judge me? It’s not like you didn’t misbehave too. Have you even apologized to me for one minute for what you did with that Cripple?”

I waited for him to respond but he didn’t. Instead he turned his back to me.

I knew I had struck a nerve.

He didn’t talk to me after for the rest of the night.

 

 

 

 

****

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Omoboye in front of the wardrobe, a travelling box in front of her. She looked good and I allowed my eyes to feast on her. She takes good care of herself and it shows, Butter scotch skin, hairless legs which she waxed every other week, a well rounded bottom the result of numerous hip exercises. She is good looking and she knows it.

 The night dress formed a perfect silhouette for her curvy hips. I could tell she was wearing nothing underneath and I felt my body harden looking at her. Vintage me would have drawn her close and we would have had a mutually satisfying tango under the sheets but I couldn’t afford to do that as much as I wanted to at that moment. She would take it to mean we were cool. I wasn’t ready for that.

 It dawned on me that this was our first morning together as a married couple and I wanted to say something, good morning, hello or whatever it is that newlyweds say to each other the morning after. But somehow my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. I was still too bitter about her mentioning my slip to even greet her.

She shouldn’t have mentioned anything about Bisade. She crossed the line with that and she knows it.

 

It’s not like I planned for what happened to happen.

 

Bisade is a dear friend and a confidant. We had never had anything intimate beyond talking but that changed the day Omoboye killed my baby.

I had gone to Bisade’s place straight from Boye’s apartment. I told her about what Boye did. She had been aghast at the extent of Boye’s vanity and had offered her comfort.

 

See Bisade is not someone I was attracted to or someone I ever thought I could have anything beyond friendship with. Ours was that type of boy-girl friendship that put proponents of “a man and a woman can never be friends” to shame.

Our friendship started right from university. We studied the same course and shared a desk for the four years in school. I never had any romantic feelings for her and she didn’t seem to have either. We both understood that we were always going to be just friends. I was her champion, the one who fought anyone who looked down on her. She had a bad case of Polio Mellitus as a child and so couldn’t walk without crutches. My friends would tease me to no end; they even gave me the nickname “Oko aro”. Most of the girls I dated had issues with our friendship but usually come around once they realize she wasn’t a threat and even make friends with her.

 

Boye was different however. She hated Bisade from the first time they met and would always call her a cripple. The label annoyed me and she knew it. I stopped complaining when I realized that the more I showed my displeasure at the term, the more she used it.

Bisade was only supposed to comfort me that day but even now I can’t seem to remember how things got out of hand. I just know they did and somehow we ended up having sex.

I felt dirty and soiled afterwards. We had been in such a hurry that we didn’t even remember to get naked. I had ended up with shiny pieces of her sequined dress glued to several parts of my body. It took an agonizing and guilt filled hour to get it off my skin. The mistake I made however was not getting it off my shirt and trouser and that was where Omoboye discovered them two weeks later. Shiny little snitches! Her question had been so gentle and direct that I couldn’t even think up a story fast enough and so I had told her the truth and made sure to blame it on her. She took it stoically then and I had been relieved.

That morning however I blamed myself for having a big mouth. I didn’t have to confess. I could have kept my mouth shut and retain the exclusive right to be indignant. Now not only did she have something to hold over me, my friendship with Bisade was also destroyed. I wouldn’t dare to even wave at her if there was a chance Omoboye will know.

 

 

***

Jite was even more withdrawn than the previous day. I knew he was sulking about my reference to his cripple. I knew what I was doing when I mentioned it. It was meant to remind him he wasn’t that holy either.

I hadn’t allowed myself to dwell so much on the issue. I willed myself to focus on making things better between us. I convinced myself that I deserve what happened. But that didn’t stop me from being pained. I don’t know what hurts most, that he cheated on me or that he did it with a cripple.

 

However I was ready to sheath my sword. I wanted us to show some warmth to each other. Zanzibar is a beautiful place. Somewhere I have always dreamt of going to. I had no desire to have an unhappy time there. Besides what’s a Honeymoon without Honey?

I watched as he sat up on the bed and decided to hug him. I am the woman here right? I should be the one to swallow my pride and reach out. Yes I aborted, I told him and he cheated. I should still overlook the cheating right? Forgive him and make the marriage work. I am sure Mom would agree with that.

I could almost hear her voice in my head.

“Omoboye, it’s a man’s world. If a man cheats on you, you forgive. Besides you caused it. If you had not done what you did, he would not have had reason to go to the girl.”

I went to sit beside him and hugged him. It was a one sided hug, his hands remained with him. I said “good morning husband”, he replied with a “gruff good morning wife” and disentangled himself from my embrace.

Ish. I tried. I murmured swinging my hips as I walked to the bathroom.

 

 

***

I hate flying, maybe because I am always scared about how the plane could easily crash. I glanced sideways at Jite; his face was still sporting a dark frown. I felt sad wondering how men could be so different from women.

Did it not occur to him that all this drama could end in a split second, that the plane could crash and we’ll both be gone forever. Did he not know that life was too short to live it in acrimony? My mind went to the crash that happened only months before. Who knows if one of the numerous couples that died in the crash had been fighting, how would they have felt when the plane developed problems, would they have quickly apologized to themselves, suddenly remember how much they love themselves and hug till death came?

Oh Omoboye stop thinking of death. I chided myself.

Think of Zanzibar, of sand, of beaches, of six course dinners under the stars, of belly dancers, of hammocks and beautiful nights spent entwined.

Static. It was hard to picture myself and Jite entwined without pink packets of condoms clouding my vision.

A wicked smile curved my lips as I thought of the condoms.

He would have a fit when he realizes they are gone. Tucked under the mattress where a lucky cleaner would find them.

There was no way I was going to have a condom filled honeymoon. Not when Mom’s threat that I had to get pregnant before our first anniversary still haunted me.

The idea had come out of the blues, no condom means I get pregnant and when I get pregnant, husband calms down. Everything goes back to normal and we live happily ever after. Whew! I thought a smug smile brightening my face as I placed my head on Jite’s shoulders.

* Boarding Tales is now on Okadabooks app. Click the image below to download for FREE

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Some Men Make You Want to Hurt Them…..

Kosi

 

 

Some men make you want to hurt them; men like my husband….

To him, he is first Tomide’s dad before he is my husband.

 

His twitter profile reads……… Thinker, Lawyer, Tomide’s dad”

 

His Facebook profile name was Tomide’s dad. Going through his albums on Facebook, you would never guess he is married. The pictures were either of him or of Tomide. You wouldn’t find a single picture of me anywhere.

 

****

His life and our marriage revolves around Tomide. He is the one that he spends seventy percent of his income on. My husband only bought me a car because I gave him a son. During the pregnancy; he believed BRT and Danfo were good enough for me. It was because of Tomide that I got the first opportunity to travel out of the country,

“My son is too precious to be born in this stupid country, let’s arrange for you to have the child in America”. 

It was because of Tomide that I had to be a stay at home mom. “I don’t want my son in a day care.” “No one can take care of him like his mother”

 

I had insisted I couldn’t be a housewife and he had promised to give me money to start a business of my choice. Five million naira later and a promise of more I agreed to quit my job. I kept the money in a fixed deposit account and chose to sit at home taking care of Tomide. My husband never asked why I didn’t start a business, he was happy to see his son have a full time nanny.

 

*****

I have no illusions; Tomide was the reason he married me. I am a baby factory, nothing more.

I still remember how my journey into baby mamahood started.

I had been spending a weekend with him like I usually did; I hadn’t been myself that particular weekend and he had noticed.

 

Baby, what’s wrong with you?

You’ve been quite sluggish of late, abi I don score goal?

“Which goal?” I had asked raising an eyebrow

“Do you want to score a goal? Did you not say you are not interested in getting married for the next five years?”

“I know I said that but I didn’t really mean it oo, pregnancy changes a lot of things you know. If you get belle now, the story go change. In fact I will marry you before the end of this month.”

“Ehn ehn, really? congrats nigbayen ooo, because I’m pregnant.”

I kicked myself inwardly the moment the words left my lips. No one was supposed to know I was pregnant. It was a pregnancy destined for termination. I had no wish to have a child for the world’s greatest loafer. The action that led to the pregnancy itself had been a mistake, a madness induced by excess alcohol intake.

“Are you kidding me?”

 Say you are joking, I told myself but I found myself confirming it instead.

“I’m not kidding.”

“You mean you are pregnant for me?” He asked pointing a finger towards his chest.

“Yes”, I replied almost choking on the lie.

That confirmation changed our relationship, I got an engagement ring the next day and two months after we were married.

Perhaps, I would have summoned the courage to tell him he wasn’t my baby’s father if everything hadn’t happened so quickly. I never had a chance to take a breath.

 

****

Being a baby factory or feeling like one is no fun. Tomide is Kosi’s world. I have a tiny corner there just because Tomide existed. Some days I feel so tempted to tell him that Tomide isn’t his son especially on days when he makes me feel like Tomide’s nanny instead of his mother.

“Why is my son’s feeding bottle on the dining table?”

“Why hasn’t his cloth been changed all day?”

“Did you buy the toy I asked you to buy?”

“How many times have you changed his diapers today?”

He would go on and on irritating me to no end.

I would want to scream, “relax oga, he is not even your son”. But I never did perhaps out of pity for him or just out of plain fear of what he will do to me.

 

Sometimes I would laugh inwardly when he bragged about how much he and his son had in common.

He would tell a friend;

“Na my forehead, nose, mouth and eyes my boy carry. He resembles me in everything. I won this one oo totally. Maybe I would give this Iya the next one, she can decide to have a girl if she likes; this one is mine.”

 

Sometimes he would turn to me and say;

“Did you see how my boy kicked that ball? He will be a good football player like his dad.”

“Did you see how he turned up his lips just now?”

“Mum said I used to do that as a kid.” He would add grinning happily.

I would nod and summon a fake smile. I would later wonder why nature decided to play such a huge joke on men, a woman would always be sure that a child was hers but men on the other hand accept whatever we present to them as theirs.

 

Tomide shared absolutely no resemblance to Kosi, their nose and forehead might be of the same shape but I was sure there were millions of other people who had the same type of forehead and nose.  I knew for certain that Kosi’s blindness would be cured if he saw Tomide and his biological father together. My son is the split image of Setan. I don’t like it but there was no doubt about it. I could only hope that they would have different behavioral patterns.

 

*****

It is not my wish to tell Kosi he has been wasting his time and money for the last three years but Kosi tempts me so much. Each time he treats me like a machine that produces children and takes care of the house, I feel like screaming the truth just to hurt him. I have tried to keep myself from saying it for three long years but I feel one day I won’t be able to restrain myself.

I fear that a day would come when I would scream it out; he would go pale in shock and would ask me if I was saying it just to hurt him or if it was true, he would point at Tomide and say, “he is not my son?” I would nod, grab my son and run. Five million naira plus the more that will come should go a long way in taking care of a woman and her child or would it not? One can’t be too sure these days.

 

photo credit: google images

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