Kevin


Kevin drained his 5th or 6th glass of scotch, he couldn’t remember which as he poured himself a 6th or 7th glass. He rolled the .38 callibre around on the table in front of him. He felt nothing but grief, loss, pain and anguish. He looked around the bare room. Besides the chair and table he was using the only other piece of furniture was a mattress. There was a tiny bathroom behind the door in the corner but that was it. This was all he could afford. The walls were dark gray and peeling. He had taped some of his sketches to the wall but besides those it was bare. He had nothing left. He had lost everything. He lifted the gun with his right hand and held it’s mouth against his temple. He didn’t feel like living anymore.

******************************************

November 12, 2011

He sighed as he pulled into the driveway. He was finally home. He had started to hate working at the firm but with a mortgage and a family of three kids and a wife, he couldn’t exactly quit. Jobs didn’t come knocking at the door. He got out of his car and entered the house. He had barely shut the door behind him when Luke, his youngest son ran up to him and hugged him.

“Hey little man!” He said laughing as he steadied himself to prevent them both from falling.

“Welcome home Dad”

“What’s up champ?” He said as he playfully scuffled the 8yr old’s hair.

“I painted a picture of you at school today Dad. Ms. Walker said to paint a picture of our hero. Optimus Prime is harder to draw but you’re cooler. Come see. Mom pasted it on the fridge.” Luke said as he held his hand and led him to the kitchen. Kevin laughed as he followed Luke’s lead.

Grace was in the kitchen chopping carrots. She lifted her head when Kevin and Luke walked in. “Welcome honey!” She said.

“Thanks babe.” He said as he followed Luke to the fridge. “Wow!” He said when he looked at the painting. “Nice one buddy! It looks great. I’m glad you think I’m cooler than Optimus Prime.”

Luke laughed and asked if he could go watch tv. Both Kevin and Grace nodded and so he skipped out of the kitchen.

“Where are Josh and Amy?” Kevin asked Grace.

“Amy’s in her room studying for a test she has tomorrow and Josh is grounded. He and a couple of friends beat up some kid for no apparent reason or at least none that he’s telling me. He has been suspended for a week. The principal told me that if Josh gets into any more trouble, he’ll be asked to withdraw.”

Kevin sighed. “Ok, I’ll go talk to him.”

He made his way upstairs but headed to Amy’s room first. Her door was slightly opened. He let himself in but she didn’t notice. She had earphones in her ears and was poring over a number of books. This was the family genius. She never got into trouble. He let himself out and shut the door. He didn’t want to break her concentration. He’d talk to her when she came down for dinner.

He headed to Josh’s room, stopped for a few seconds at the door and let himself in. Josh was lying on the bed with earphones in his ears but he took them out and sat up when he noticed Kevin walk in.

“Hey Dad”. He murmured avoiding Kevin’s eyes.

“Josh. So you beat up some kid today. Wanna tell me why?” Kevin asked with a straight face.

“I didn’t beat him up.”

“So how come you’re suspended from school. Is the principal lying?”

“I didn’t beat the kid up.”

“So who did? A ghost? Your ghost?” Kevin asked with sarcasm.

“Gavin and Tyson. I was only there when they were beating him up. I didn’t touch him.”

“So you just stood there and did nothing. You cudda walked away Josh. Now you’re an accessory to assault. You’re lucky no charges have been filed because you’d be just as guilty as Gavin and Tyson.”

“This isn’t a court Dad. I’m not one of your clients.”

“No you’re not. You’re my eldest son and you’re falling short. Amy never gets into any trouble and you live in the same house. Can’t you learn anything from her? Luke looks up to you. Don’t mess it up for him. You’re gonna go over to that kid’s house tomorrow to apologize and I don’t want you ever speaking to Gavin or Tyson again.”

Josh stared at the floor and didn’t say anything. Kevin sighed and left. He went to the bedroom he shared with his wife, changed his clothes and made his way to the kitchen to join Grace.

“I’ve spoken to him.” He said as he walked into the kitchen. She was stirring something in a pot on the cooker.

“Thanks. He worries me.” She said with a frown.

“He’s 17. He’ll be okay.”

“Kev, that man called again.” Grace said with fear in her eyes.

He knew who she was talking about. He knew the man. Kellan Smith. The man he had defended 3yrs ago for the murder of his wife and 4yr old daughter. Kellan had insisted that he didn’t do it. Kevin hadn’t believed him. He had been arrested in a bloody shirt that had his wife’s and daughter’s blood on it and his prints were found all over the murder weapon, a hammer. The crime scene pictures were gory and there was evidence that Kellan’s wife had been planning to run off with their daughter. There was also evidence that he had been treated for psychotic episodes in the past. It was an open and shut case but he tried his best to help Kellan but he was sentenced to life and Kevin had declined to represent him in an appeal. The calls had started two months ago and were getting frequent. There were emails too but he couldn’t tell Grace.

“He’s in prison G. He can’t do any of the the things he says.”

Her eyes were moist. “He asked if Luke was eating his vegetables and that if he wasn’t, he could make him.”

“Look G, forget about it. He’s locked up for life.”

“Can’t we report to the police?”

“I have. Countless times. They don’t consider it a real threat. He hasn’t done anything.”

“Yet. He hasn’t done anything yet. This is all your fault Kev.”

“What?”

“I told you not to represent him. I told you it wasn’t gonna be worth it. Now each time the phone rings, I’m half wondering if it’s him. What if any of the kids pick up?”

“You’re blaming me?! I was doing my job. The case got assigned to me! Would I have us go through this intentionally?”

They argued and argued. Grace was scared and Kevin was upset. Kellan Smith was becoming a problem but there was nothing he could do. She blamed him for the phone calls and then for their move to Chicago. She hated it and wished they had stayed in Texas. He blamed her for not getting a job to support him when they were in Texas as if she did, they wouldn’t have had to move. They stopped arguing when Luke walked in.

Kevin stormed out of the kitchen and took his keys from the key rack. He was going for a drive. He needed to cool off. He drove around for 30 minutes, blaming himself for everything Grace blamed him for and hating himself for letting their argument escalate to the level it did. He knew she was worried and scared and that she didn’t mean any of the things she said. He also didn’t like the fact that Luke had walked in on them. He didn’t want to set a bad example. He drove back to the house deciding to apologize to Grace for everything and to have a sit down with Luke to apologize for losing his cool and yelling at his Mom.

Fear clutched his heart as he turned into their street and saw the police car, fire truck and ambulance parked in front of their house. It was on fire! Grace, Luke, Amy and Josh! He rushed out of the car and tried to make his way to the house but the firemen stopped him. Their neighbour, Mrs Carson was trying to talk to him but he couldn’t hear a word. Apparently, it was she who had dialled 911. It took 40 minutes for the firemen to put the fire out. Their house looked like a shadow of itself. Grace, Amy and Josh had died in it. Their bodies were badly burnt. Luke died as he was being carried out of the house. All attempts at resuscitation failed. Kevin was numb. The entire thing played out like a movie. He didn’t get a chance to say a word to Amy and he didn’t like his last words to Josh or Grace. The way Luke looked at him before he had stormed out of the kitchen…his knees felt wobbly. A police officer was asking him some questions but he couldn’t hear a word. Then he couldn’t breathe.

He woke up a day later in a hospital and as he remembered the events of the night before, he curled himself up into a ball and wept like a baby. He wept for Grace, the love of his life; for Josh, his stubborn son who was every bit like he was at that age; for Amy, his genius, the star of the family and for Luke, his bubbly, adorable son who could do no wrong. He wept until he fell asleep and he woke up and wept again.

The report of the fire came back a week later. The fire had started from the fuse box. The fuse box he had insisted on fixing when Grace had insisted that he should call Carl, their electrician. He had joked about being good with his hands and said a fuse box was a piece of cake. She had laughed but told him to still call Carl. He ignored her and did it anyway. He had also forgotten to do anything about the smoke alarms. Grace had noticed that they didn’t go off when she had an episode of smoke during one of her culinary experiments the week before. He had caused the fire and robbing his family of a chance to quickly detect that something was wrong so they could evacuate the house. He felt like someone had twisted a knife in his heart. He had practically set his family up for death and left them to die.

*****************************************

He wished he hadn’t survived. He wished he had died with them. It had been six months to this day that he had lost his family in the fire. Six months to this day that everything that mattered to him died for his mistakes and negligence. It was only right that he joined them.

He shut his eyes and squeezed the trigger as he held his breath. The gun clicked. He opened his eyes. He was still alive.

With 1 bullet, he had at most 5 more tries before he died and 5 more reasons to wish he was dead.

The Chaotic Start.


I personally think that dating is the most advanced form of natural selection on the planet. The main goal of every species is to ensure its survival and man is definitely not left out. I’m torn between stating opinions and sharing reality from my perspective and while I hate imposing opinions or seeming to do so, I fear that may inevitably happen. Here goes.

=====================

I asked Jolade if she wasn’t used to folks hitting on her by now. She had just exclaimed that someone, the fifth person that day, had told her at work that she was sexy. She also said this was new for her. No one had ever crushed on her in secondary school or university. She said she wasn’t attractive then to anyone. Looking at her now, it was difficult to believe. Her figure-hugging clothes revealed curves almost bursting buttons and zips as she threw her weight from leg to leg in a fabulous sashay down the corridor, loudly announced by her clicking heels on the marble floor. Was this what money did to people? The hairdo, the clothes, the confidence, the smile of contentment and so many other things money could buy had brought out the attractiveness of this brilliant female. Now everyone wanted to have her.

I went with my brother to a fast food joint where we tried to order some sweet things to satisfy my sugar cravings. While we waited, he climbed the first rungs of the railing to get a better view of the food on offer. Slightly embarrassed on his behalf, I told him he was acting like a child in public. To which he replied, “I am rich, I can do whatever I want.” I laughed and could find no words to the contrary. He was handsome, intelligent and rich. God-fearing too. Every woman’s dream.

Ikenna was confused again. Yejide was acting as if she was his girlfriend all over again. Making last minute calls to disrupt his schedule, throwing tantrums when he turned down her wishes, demanding he call back when her credit ran out, monitoring his every move. This was the girl that had agreed that they would be just friends a week before. Now she couldn’t get enough of him. He had taken extra care not to let her know where he was working because he feared it would affect her answer to his love proposal. She had politely said no to him and asked that they be as brother and sister. Ikenna had sadly agreed. Things changed however when he took her to the staff club and showed his ID card to gain exclusive entrance. Her calls became more frequent, her demands more insistent, leaving Ikenna wondering how close she had become as a “sister.” Now his worst fears of landing a gold digger were staring him in the face.

Her boobs were not as firm as they looked when she was fully dressed. The wild thoughts running through his mind earlier on what to do to her once they were alone were slowly dissolving like a cube of sugar in a cup of black coffee. Was this lady going to be able to keep him on cloud nine in the bedroom? It would be different if he had never known such heights of sexual ecstasy. Now he had higher tastes, and death was looking too far to wait for their parting to be made legal. A strange calm settled over his heart where the storms of passion had raged oh some precious few seconds before.

People change. Times change. Circumstances change. What if you discovered that the person of your dreams today did not fit into your dreams in five years time? What if you met someone you connected with on a higher level than this person you were with? How would it feel to be unable to give your ruthless passion to your partner just because your sights were now set on the new curvy intern at the office? What did it mean to let only death do you part? Sighs.

With these troubling thoughts, I set my list of eligible females aside and fell to my knees to pray to God to choose a life partner for me as He had for Adam.

@HL_Blue

********

How much of God do you allow in your relationships?

What limits have you put on Him and should there even be any?

Take a step back and ask yourself, ‘What exactly do I look for before going into relationships?’

Have an answer? why not share with us today using the comment box below.

Cheers.

Date Days II: The Preview


Hello there.

I have no cool story to tell you about why this blog hasn’t been updated for ages. It just happened that way for reasons best known to bola and I but we like to think a friend called BLOCK has been messing around with us. We apologize and hope our little announcement today makes up for the last 2months.

Its a new year and i do hope we all have fabulous days ahead and build memories to last us a lifetime.

Moving on, i am very certain that we all remember Date Days I, where we spoke about the happenings that surrounds a first date. If  by any chance, you never did read it, catch up and get a jotter as well, we received testimonies of countless lives that were changed.

We at ‘The Ugly Truth’ did promise to do it again when the time felt right and i am glad to say, that time, is NOW.

We present to you, Date Days II:

The Sequel

Money, Power, Sex, Ego & Respect.

Relationships are special, like them or hate them, we all in one way or the other, need them. A lot of discussions with friends on twitter and other platforms over the last couple of months had made me often wonder if our generation really knew the place of certain basic principles in relationships, this led to a decision to do a sequel on the DateDays series with the title, ‘Money, Power, Sex, Ego & Respect In Relationships’.

Again, just like I DateDays1, there will be no experts coming to share their preconceived and well researched politically & morally correct notions about this theme but instead, we have got regular young people like you & i to do so and in so doing, we hope to get a basic realistic idea of where we stand now in relationships as youth and where we ought to be.

We need to ask ourselves the following questions when we think about relationships;

Are we getting things right?
Am I going into it with the right motives?
Am I willing to sacrifice and compromise? Where are we going astray?
what should we tolerate and what should we kick against?

We hope that during the course of this series, a lot of headway will be made and we’ll be able to better understand the workings of this thing called relationships.

The plan is to create an avenue through which i hope we can all share ideas about relationships in a very relaxed and semi-informal way yet taking away what we believe should be valuable life lessons which would come in handy at some point if & when we all decide to get into relationships *Dons #TeamForeverAlone Shades*.

Join @mizztosin, @HL_Blue, @LaComtessNoire, @_Ayaba, @MrOmidiran, @0Toxic, @D3ola, @xoAfro, @TheFakeEsse and myself as we share what are our own ideas of relationships today.

It runs from the 27th of February – 6th March with all post going up at 9am.

We hope that you’ll subscribe to the blog to get all posts in your mailbox or just visit the site at 9am and the posts will be up.

Do share the word about this and we hope that we do have a wonderful time while sharing opinions and expressing our views about an institution which frankly no one has ever gotten a total grasp of. This should be fun

Till then, i remain ‘Baba Blue’.

Cheers

Torn


He missed his family. His wife, his two sons and his baby girl. Not being able to see them in the last five years had felt like hell. It still felt like hell. He missed his wife so much. Marrying her was the best decision of his life. She was everything he needed her to be. Everything he needed and then some. He missed her cooking. Damn, she could cook. If the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach then his heart was in Grace’s right hand.

He missed his sons, David and Daniel. The last time he saw them, David was 11 and Daniel was 9. Now they were almost men. He missed his baby girl, Rachael. The last time he saw her she was 7 months old. Now she would be walking and talking. He had missed so much of her life. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he clutched the picture from five years ago when Rachael was born.

His only mistake, was being a good Samaritan in the wrong place and at the wrong time. He still remembered her face. How could he forget. He dreamt about her every other night. He had tried to save her life. That was his mistake.
*************************

The gate of his cell opened. It was time. Two guards came for him. One of them cuffed him and they led him down the hall. The other inmates yelled. Hurling insults at the guards and cheering him on. He smiled sadly. As sickening as it was, he was going to miss this place. He had made friends and it had even broken his heart when his cellmate died.

This felt like the longest walk of his life.

They finally got to a room. As he entered he saw some familiar faces. The Director of Public Prosecutions, the man that had put him there; The Public Defender, the man that had done a shabby job at defending him. He couldn’t blame him. His salary didn’t require more than a shabby job. Thinking about it, it required less; The Sergeant who had testified against him; the Prison Warden and a Priest. How awesome. He was surrounded by his “loved ones”. The Priest asked him to close his eyes for the last prayer.

He closed his eyes as the memory of that night played itself again:

His car had refused to start that morning. He was already running late. Grace had to use her’s to drop the boys off at school. He opted to take a bus. He hurriedly kissed everyone goodbye and dashed out of the house. He made it to work in time and had a pretty long day. Work closed far later than usual.

He went to the staff car park thinking he had parked his car there in the morning. He remembered he hadn’t. He had to take a bus back but the thing was getting a bus to work from home was easier than getting one back. He had to walk.

It was dark. Sometime around 11pm. He knew some shortcuts and decided to take them. As he turned into a small street, he saw a man walk hurriedly in the opposite direction. He saw his face. He could see the fat scar across his right cheek as the dim street light shone on his face. His eyes were ice cold. On any other day, the look the man gave him would have scared him but it didn’t, he just wanted to get home. As he walked on, he saw something covered on the ground.

It looked like a person.

It was breathing. They were slow, ragged breaths but it was breathing. He moved closer. He removed the covering. It was a girl. She had been stabbed all over and badly beaten. There was blood everywhere. It crossed his mind to walk away, very fast. Then he thought, this was a human being. What if it was Grace that was lying on the ground and a stranger decided to walk away instead of helping her? He had to help her. He couldn’t just walk away. He lightly tapped her shoulder but she didn’t move. He put his fingers on the side of her neck to feel her pulse. It had stopped. He could’ve sworn that she was breathing seconds ago.

He had to do something.

He placed his left palm on her chest and place his right palm over it and counted to three then he pressed hard. He repeated this three times and gave her CPR but nothing happened. He tried three more times and gave her CPR again and then felt her pulse. It was beating again but it was slow. He heaved a sigh of relief. She was alive. He remembered that there was a hospital three streets away. The least he could do was drop her off there. He wanted to call Grace to let her know what was going on & where he was so that she wouldn’t be worried. His hands were covered in blood so he reached for his handkerchief in his pocket and used it to remove his phone from his bag.

Just as he was about dialing her number lights shone on his face and someone yelled “Hey!” He squinted as the light affected his vision but he made out two figures, most likely men.

Good evening.” He said. “This girl needs help. We need to get her to a hospital.”

They were two men holding torch lights. The directed the lights the floor where he was kneeling and saw the girl.

“Drop the phone!” The first man yelled.

“Wetin be dis?”

“Aaah!” The second man yelled. “O ti payan!”

Jonathan was ibo but he understood a little yoruba and he could understand what the second man had just said. “No! I didn’t kill anybody. She’s not even dead. She needs help. We need to get her to the hospital on Banijo Crescent now!”

“Gbe nu e soun!” The first man retorted.

“You think say we no sabi see! See as blood full your hand and your body, you come dey talk hospital.”

Jonathan was stunned. This couldn’t be happening. If this continued, this girl would die. “Look, she needs help! We have to get her to a hospital!”

Something caught the second man’s eye. He shone his torch on the ground beside where Jonathan was kneeling. It was a knife. There was blood on it. “Aha! Afeez see wetin him use!” He said, drawing the other man’s attention to the knife.

“Aaaah!” Afeez yelled. “Wo Mr man, you are finished today.” He turned to his friend, “Sule call Rafiu and Yusuf make them dey come now now.” Sule brought out his phone and did as he was instructed.

Jonathan was shocked. “Who the hell are you people? Who are Rafiu and Yusuf? There’s a girl here who’s life is hanging in the balance and you’re calling your friends?! Does this look like a show?”

“Shut up your mouth!” Afeez said. “Na who talk say you fit talk? Na we be the vigilante for this area. We dey patrol for here every night. E don tey wey we catch person. Your own don baje today.”

Jonathan couldn’t believe his ears. In minutes he had been pinned to the ground by Afeez and Sule. Rafiu and Yusuf arrived in a pick-up truck. When they came out, he noticed a scar on Yusuf’s face. He remembered the face of the man that had passed by him when he had turned into this street. It was Yusuf! He struggled to free himself for Afeez and Sule but he couldn’t. They dragged him up and he watched Rafiu wrap the girl’s body in a cloth. He then carried her and dropped her at the back of the truck. Then Yusuf walked up to him and all he could remember was his fist meeting his head before everything went black.

Things happened so fast. The vigilantes handed him over to the police the next day. He was tortured and interrogated. He was told that the girl had died and all evidence pointed to him. He denied ever knowing the girl or stabbing her and insisted that all he did was find a badly injured girl on the road and try to help her. The officers who interrogated him refused to accept this. In months, his trial began and he was charged with the murder of Bisola Abdul.

He found out her name on the day of his trial.

All this time, Grace had been coming to see him during his detention as he was denied bail. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She was running out of excuses to give to the boys when they asked why Daddy wasn’t home yet. Rachael couldn’t speak as she was only a baby but she could tell that she missed her father. Grace was confused and heart-broken. Her visits were usually cut short by the prison wardens but he could tell that a part of her was angry with him for stopping to help that girl. She might not say it but he knew. If only he had walked past the body he wouldn’t be were he was today. He was angry at himself. It all turned out to be worthless as the girl had eventually died. He was here and Yusuf was out there enjoying his life. He didn’t deserve this.
***********************

His trial was horrible. Grace had stopped coming to see him. She said she couldn’t do it to herself and to their family. He couldn’t appoint a lawyer because he couldn’t reach Grace and there was no one he could call. He had been completely cut off by everybody when the news came out that he had been arrested in connection to a murder. He wasn’t surprised as he usually kept to himself. Besides his family, the only friend he had was his elder brother but he had died a year ago having lost a long battle with lung cancer.

He was given a public defender who did wonderfully well at doing a horrible job. The man all but properly defended him. During the trial he was told that the girl had been pregnant at the time of her death. Then the prosecution fabricated their story. Five witnesses he had never seen in his life, testified to the existence of an affair between him and the deceased. The story was therefore that he had killed her on finding out that she was pregnant as she had threatened to go to his wife. Everything played out like a movie to him. He couldn’t believe it. It happpened so fast. Before he knew it, he was sentenced to death by hanging.

Grace had sent him the picture with a letter. She said she told the boys that he had died. She couldn’t have them know about what was happening. She told him that she had read about the affair and pregnancy in the papers that witnesses had testified to. She didn’t know what to believe but she didn’t have the emotional resolve to continue with the drama.

She was done.

She told him that she loved him and she would keep praying for him. The boys were dealing with the loss of their father but she told him that they loved him dearly. That letter broke his heart. That’s when he decided not to appeal. He was done. The last five years of his life had been horrible. Being on death row had been sickening but it was all coming to an end today.

He heard the Priest bring the prayer to a close as he came back to reality, “…in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.” He was led to the top of the table and he climbed it. Then the rope hanging from the ceiling was put around his neck. He thought of Grace and his kids. He thought about the night before that fateful day. He had offered to bathe Rachael. He remembered her toothless smile and meaningless babble. He didn’t know what she was saying but she just went on and on and it sounded like music in his ears. He dressed her and she quickly fell asleep.

He then settled a quarrel between David and Daniel. Someone had hit the other and it was over the remote. He spoke to them about love and being brothers and how fights never solved anything then he made them apologize to each other and sent them to bed. He felt them slowly drag the table from underneath his feet. Then he thought of Grace. Her eyes, her face and their wedding night. He felt her lips touch his as he started to choke and then……

It all went black.

***************************************

David


David.

Not the one in the bible that stoned and killed the arrogant philistine.

Her David. He was coming home. She smiled.

It had been twelve months. Twelve long, cold, hard, lonely, sad months. She had missed him so much. So damn much. Thinking about how much she had missed him made her feel a kind of pain that was indescribable. Thankfully it was over now. Her David was coming home. She could smile again.

She had been planning his return ever since he called her two weeks ago to confirm that he was finally coming home. He was a Captain in the Nigerian Army and had been serving in a year long peace-keeping mission for the UN in Libya. He was her “Hero”.

Thoughts of him in his military uniform with shiny brass buttons made her so proud. Tonight her Captain was coming home. She loved the sound of that. Her Captain.

She giggled to herself as she stirred the stew she was cooking. She was cooking white rice with stew and plantain. His best meal. Most men loved starchy foods with complicated soups but her David loved rice and never got bored of eating it. He had complained about never getting to eat rice the way he liked it while he was in Libya. Tonight he was going to taste rice again. Better than the way he liked it.

Fourteen months and twelve days ago she had walked down the aisle and said “I do” to the one man she loved more than life. Her David. He was everything she could ever dream of. Everything she had ever hoped for. He was funny. Scratch that, hilarious. He could make the sickest joke out of the most mundane of things. He was nice. Genuinely nice. If David had 1000 naira, he could give out 999 of it and not mind having just 1 naira left. She hated that about him cause it made some of his friends and family take advantage of him but that was David. Take it or leave it. He was such a happy person. There was hardly anything anyone could do or say to dampen his mood. Not that he didn’t have his off days or never frowned but his moods changed because he let them. Never because someone said or did something. He was responsible. So responsible it irked her. He hardly ever left anything undone and when he did, he always had a good reason. He was understanding. So understanding he made excuses for everyone. No matter how obvious the person’s foolishness or stupidity was, David had an explanation that could make you think differently. He made excuses for everyone and everything including their golden retriever, Willy. As if he heard his name in her head, he barked in agreement. She smiled as she turned off the gas as the rice was ready and poured cooking oil in a frying pan to fry the plantain.When she met David two years ago she knew that there was something different about him. Something she wanted to become a permanent part of her life. Something she couldn’t let go of and so she held onto him. Tight. A good number of girls were interested in him and they had good reason. He was 6’5, light-skinned and had a strong-build. He was good-looking too. He had the most amazing smile and funny-looking ears. He said he had been teased about his ears in nursery and primary school but as he grew taller in secondary school, his mates got bored of laughing at his ears. She didn’t care. She loved his ears. His funny-looking ears. She loved every inch of him.

She was done frying the plantain. In fact she was done cooking. She looked at the kitchen clock. It was 7pm. His plane was due to land in thirty minutes and because they didn’t have to go through any hassles whatsoever at the airport being Nigerian soldiers, it would take the Army Bus an hour to drop him off at their home. Good. She had one hour and thirty minutes to get ready to welcome the love of her life. Butterflies fluttered in her tummy. It felt like they were dating again. She hurriedly set the table and proceeded to the bathroom to take a shower. During the past twelve months, she had looked forward to his letters, phone calls, texts, emails and video calls. They were all she had to hold on to. He was allowed to call home once in every two months and send a letter every four weeks but he never used all of his allocated slots as he instead focused on his work and explained how being able to discipline himself and not call home too often stood him a better chance of top ratings and promotions.

He didn’t come home. Not that the Army wouldn’t let him but the only time he was scheduled to have a leave for three weeks, he had an accident in the army truck he was given to drive. It took him four weeks to be restored back to good health. She had never been more scared in her entire life. It had taken him four weeks to fully recuperate. That was one week longer than his scheduled leave. They refused to let him come home for another leave. Stupid army policies. Not that it mattered now. He was coming home today.

She got out of the bathroom and started dressing up. She had gone shopping the week before with her friend Tomisin. Tomi’s husband had been deployed to Liberia two years ago and so she understood what it was like to be an “Army Wife”. Her husband was back home now but Tomi offered to help her “prep” in every possible way for David’s return. They shopped for everything. Foodstuff, home decor to jazz up the house, clothes that hugged her in the right places, shoes that were perfect for any and every occasion, lingerie, scented body oils, body lotions, perfumes and so on. Tomi even helped her pick what she called “the perfect outfit” from the underwear to the dress itself. She wasn’t going to wear it though. Tomi could go a bit overboard sometimes. A leopard print dress and red stilletos weren’t exactly David’s taste. She decided instead to wear a short black dress. It was simple but hugged her contours perfectly and she knew David would appreciate it. She wasn’t going to wear shoes. It was afterall their home and David loved her feet. She wore red lipstick and brushed her long weave then she sprayed some perfume on her neck and wrists and made her way downstairs to touch up the living room and dinner table.

As she adjusted one of the couch pillows, she heard a bus pull up in front of their house. She jumped in excitement then she quickly composed herself and adjusted her dress. She felt like a teenager all over again. Only David had this effect on her. Someone pressed the doorbell. She hesitated. She didn’t know if she should jump on him or gently hug him or scream or kiss him. She was glad she had locked Willy in his cage at the backyard. With Willy and David two things could happen. Willy might not recognise him and in attempting to defend her, might hurt David or Willy might remember David and steal all the attention from her by barking and jumping in excitement. A rush of emotions welled up inside her. Her David was finally home.

She finally made her way to the front door and opened it. There he was, her David. Her eyes moistened. He looked exhausted but strong, his eyes told a tale of the dark evil he had seen and he clutched his bag in his right hand like it was all he had left in the world.“Oh baby…” she whispered. “Welcome home.” She said as she hugged him. He barely hugged her and went straight for the couch, but she put it down to fatigue and took his bag from him and went in. She dropped off his luggage upstairs and wondered why he was cold, “Maybe his favourite meal and some rest will bring him around” she thought to herself. She was barely down the stairs when she heard him yelling, “What’s all this nonsense? Why did you rearrange the whole house? Who told you to do that?” as he forcefully rearranged the settee and media arrangement by himself. She was dumbfounded as to where all this animosity had swelled up from.

She went to the kitchen and served up his meal and took them to the dining table which she had set up for a romantic dinner but this was turning into nothing like it. “Dinner is served, honey”, as she walked up to him as he didn’t hear the first time. She tapped him on the shoulder and he greeted her with a slap, “I heard you the first time and i’m not interested”. It felt like she had been hit by a forceful rush of wind. She blinked as she placed her palm on her now warm right cheek. She wanted to speak but she couldn’t find her voice. She stormed upstairs and slammed the door behind her. He watched her leave without saying a word and went to the bar and poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels. Then he sat down in the living room and sipped from the glass as he reminisced the events of that night:

He was on foot patrol and as soon as he was done he was supposed to be at an army karaoke night/dinner but he had to call his wife who had sent him a letter complaining that he hadn’t called in four months and hadn’t sent a letter in three months. He would rather not do so but he went ahead and told the crew he’ll catch up with them at the hall. About 7km from base he heard a series of gunshots and he ducked behind a car not entirely sure where it was coming from. Suddenly he felt a prick in his back of something cold and then he was told to surrender quietly or risk being shot. He had no choice but to comply. He spent seven excruciating weeks in the enemies lair and he kept wondering why his wife had insisted on him calling her. Couldn’t she have waited a little bit longer? He had only five months to go. Luckily he was rescued after the army chiefs had authorised an exchange seeing as David was a promising agent and had a bright future ahead of him. They never did prisoner exchanges but he was an exception. This is what hurt him, his career would have been cut short because of a five minute phone call.

He blamed her. He loved her but he blamed her.

He drifted into sleep on the couch as he didn’t want to go to the room they shared.

The next morning came and she had barely had any sleep. She had cried to herself and wondered what had happened to her David. She heard him outside and saw him playing with Willy and was glad he had recognised David and she thought to herself that He must be a lot better this morning and went ahead to meet up with him. As soon as she opened the door and stepped on the lawn, He gave willy a nice rub on the head and headed back inside, walking right beside her and not acknowledging her. She wished the ground will open up and swallow her.

She wanted her David back.

He had come back, but he was not the David she knew.

He had changed.
****************
This piece was written by myself and @Ms_BeeA.

Do share with us what you think about the experiences of David and how it changed him.
Is it really his wife’s fault or is he just overreacting?
Can anything be done to restore the relationship to what it used to be?

Use the comment box to speak your mind.
Cheers.

Screams


Loud, piercing screams into the night.

There were sounds of crashing plates and items hitting the walls. The neighbors’ lights remained off. No one called the cops.

Why should they?

No one wanted his trouble. No one wanted to be beaten up by a bunch of thugs from nowhere even though they knew who had sent them.

No one wanted to be involved in that drama as they had tried previously to intervene only to be hurt in the end.

‘Let go of me!’, she yelled to his face, beating his sturdy chest as hard as her weak limbs could.

Blood ran down her nose to her lips into her mouth mixing with the tears that flowed from her eyes. His grip around her slim waist was tight. She felt if he held it any tighter she would break in two. She scratched his rugged face and cried out for him to leave her alone but he replied with another blow to her already bruised face. He pushed her to the floor as she tried desperately to find something, anything to hit him with but the lamp, the stool, or the shoes were just too far from her reach.

He rammed her head to the wooden floorboard and ripped off her gown followed by her underwear which had stitches in various parts.

There were cuts and bruises around her groin; evidence of the previous incessant assaults she had been receiving. He grinned and licked his lips at the sight of her private part. A part which wasn’t private anymore for it had been violated, consistently by a man that was supposed to be her all.

He was to be everything positive in her life. Her shining light; the one to wipe away her tears when she cried at night, to tell her everything was going to be okay; the one to smile at her when she felt weak; the one to give her a reason to live but instead he had become her worst nightmare.

A monster under her bed, in her closet; a demon that haunted her every footstep… a thorn in her heart.

She bit her bruised lower lip as he forcefully entered her causing so much pain inside. She felt her thighs go wet. It wasn’t him. She knew it because she had felt it before. Blood ran down her thighs as he thrust inside her deeply. There was no point trying to reach for anything. It was already too late. The tears couldn’t flow anymore.

What tears did she have to cry?

He had beaten it out of her. She laid there on the floor, her face away from his trying to avoid his grunts and breath which reeked of alcohol and weed.

SURPRISED? She wasn’t.

It was his signature scent. The one he carried in and out of the door. The one he leaves on her after he is done breaking what remained of her fragile bones.

She stared at the base of the door, through the opening between the door and the floor. She could see the street lamp and the light that it shone.

The light she had been deprived of, that she hungered for so much.

Tears began to flow but it wasn’t caused by the pain in her belly or that from her badly bruised lady parts but from the one in her heart.

He thrust even harder now.

The pain increased but she didn’t flinch. She had found a bit of solace in that light. The one she lacked in her life; a life that she felt seeping out of her slowly.

She cracked a weak smile. It had been a long time since she smiled or felt harmony in any part of her shattered life.

He moaned out loud as he released inside of her and let out a devilish laugh when he was done. He collapsed on her, breathing heavily and letting out sighs of satisfaction. He got up and buckled his pants. He spat and kicked her open legs close together.

‘Clean this mess up you lazy worthless whore. You’re just like your mother. Only ever useful for one thing’

He grabbed the left over bottle of beer which had been on the table behind him and walked away.

She lay there as still as a corpse. Her face bruised, her lips swollen, her clothes torn and her lady parts bruised with blood seeping out slowly but in her heart she felt peace; she felt hope and calm.

She was hurt but amazingly had nothing against this man.

She felt joy as she stood at the lamp post, staring at her battered body lying on the floorboard through the space between the floor and the door from that house across the street where no one tried to help for fear of their lives.

******************

Classic case of another father – daughter relationship that just went beyond what it is supposed to be.

Most times, since it doesn’t affect anyone around us or close to home we don’t know the effect it has on people, the trauma it causes.

These things happen so much around us but victims are scared to confide in people, seek help and report the offender.

And frankly do we blame them?

If you were in their shoes, what will you do?

How can we help such people?

What role can we play in reducing the amount of such cases and getting people to step forward if and when abused.

Please use the comment box to speak your mind and share a view with us.

Cheers.

P.S this was written by a friend who has chosen to remain anonymous and myself.

2days To Go

2days To Go

Say No To Cheating


#teamfaithful

    The Concept Behind Cheating.

Welcome once again to the Ugly Truth, sorry I haven’t really been writing here lately. I have been preparing to appear on some blogs ( yes the love doctor is now in popular demand) hence my absence.

Also I have been working hard on the ‘Date Days’ series, look at the picture below. :D

I have squeezed a little time out to write on a topic that has been appearing in so many conversations, tweets, blogs e.t.c. Yes it’s the almighty ‘CHEATING’.

I am not talking about dubbing in exams and other stuff like that(go to jamb/waec website for that one), but that thing that happens when a guy/girl decides to go and eat out of another cherry that doesn’t belong to them.

I have had conversations with different people over the last two weeks about this and they made it sound like it was cool and that there was nothing wrong with it.

Before y’all attack me, I know it’s the 21st century and I should get on with it right? I say hold up and hear me out.

We are all Christians or Muslims right? I know the Bible very well and I know it frowns strongly against fornication and Adultery. I am not a 100% sure about it but I’m supremely confident the Quran does say so too right? Someone tell me I am right.

Except I missed the memo, these rules haven’t changed one bit so why are we all saying/acting otherwise.

Don’t get me wrong, I am no saint and have made a few mistakes in this short life I have had.

But i will NEVER go out to brag to people that I was having “extra-marital” affairs or anything like that because believe me i will feel ashamed. You might think you are cool when doing this but in hindsight you will realise you are the fool.

What’s there to brag about not being able to remain truthful to someone you are in a relationship with and openly profess your love for?

But people(especially we guys) go about doing this and expect our spouses to be faithful to us as well? Oh no no!!! Life doesn’t work that way.

They say Karma is a female dog abi? Oh well…..

Let this not be you.

Mind you cheating for me doesn’t start when there is physical contact between the two said people. I believe there is something called emotional cheating.

In simple terms, your body is in a relationship but your mind is no longer there but for reasons unknown you refuse to just bone the relationship or get serious. Sounds Familiar? Guessed so

The minute you start to get irritated with your better half and you don’t see a reason to bridge the gap quickly and just go and sulk about the place, you are bound to find someone else’s arm to fall into.

This can lead anywhere and I mean anywhere.

If you really like a person and decide to go into an “exclusive” relationship with them I feel you owe it to them to be faithful and be of your best behaviour.

Why start looking for something on the side or put yourself in a situation where you know you will be tempted to get something from someone outside?

Surely the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. Or is it?

I also think it is rather hurtful to both yourself and your other half to be cheating on them. Its rather MEAN if you ask me.

Don’t do it because all your friends are doing it and encouraging you to do as well.

Don’t be fooled because it’s a societal Norm. IT IS WRONG.

The minute I decided that I was going to remain a faithful husband/boyfriend sometime in 2007, I became a better person for it.
It gives me a very satisfying feeling to remain true and faithful to anyone I am with at any point in time.

Yes I have been called names and dissed but frankly “I DON’T CARE”.

I know many will say “I have tried” or “it is hard” but don’t give up.

It’s the end times and trust me to Err is human so do not despair and beat yourself down, and also don’t just accept it and do nothing about it, you can still change your ways whether you are Married or Unmarried.

I think our generation owes it to our unborn kids to give them a better legacy than this rubbish one we have inherited from our own parents and fine-tuned to please our needs and nature.

If i can change i am very sure you can too. Yes you.

No matter how tempted you are, JUST SAY NO.

If you don’t like my own views feel free to share your own views and why?

If you like my views, well thank you and continue that way.

Cheers

Its Date Days Baby

Who Is The Victim?


Frustration

No need for any introductions, @Terdoh has my entire blog to himself today, Enjoy people.

Four score and two decibels ago, my parents used to beat me. It was love at first crack (of the whip). They could beat me for not farting, beat me for farting, beat me for waking up too early, beat me for sleeping late, beat me for eating too much, beat me for wasting food, beat me because they hadn’t beaten me that day, and beat me because they just did.

And I took it. Like a tiv man should.

But in this age, we are encouraged not to ‘beat your kids’, encouraged not to use violent methods or techniques, encouraged to talk to them, encouraged to spare the horse whip and use the tongue tip. We are encouraged to spoil our kids and that is what we do. That is what I DID.

It is my undoing. If I didn’t heed the ‘encouragement’, I wouldn’t be sitting in this cell. Here’s how it started:

In the beginning, God made the heavens and the earth. But you guys already know that, so let’s skip to a more recent time.

I got married 20 years ago. Long time isn’t it?! It was lovely. It was love at first sight when I saw her afro swaying in the haze of the club light and I knew that I wanted her. And after spitting all the game I had accumulated from FIFA Sports over the years, I finally got her to do the windeck and plank with me. Best night of my life. Jamie Foxx wouldn’t understand!

Then she got pregnant. I didn’t mind. I got to keep this goddess of beauty and frankly, I considered myself lucky! We got married a couple of months after, and then she had my baby.
And died during childbirth.

Too bad the little ‘angel’ didn’t go with her. I was devastated, but I decided that my crown jewel would find both a father and a mother in me. So I brought her up myself, and I pampered her silly! I would never let anyone or anything hurt her. I recall fighting with numerous teachers on her behalf and she could always run to me for support. I was her refuge, her knight, her best friend, her dad.

I should never have forgotten that. I was her dad. I should never have let it get to that point. “What point” you ask? Lemme explain. She grew up to look just like her mother. (Don’t they all?) And one day, this happened;

She wanted to go on tour with her ‘celebrity’ boyfriend. And for someone who particularly loves that annoying song with the words “dull” and “don’t”, I wasn’t going to allow her run loose without my watchful eyes on her. I wasn’t being overprotective, I was being a father. So, of course, I said no.
Then she slapped me.

At that moment, when I looked at her face, I saw my wife. I just stared, dumbstruck at her, and I couldn’t lift a finger to do anything. She went on the tour without my permission, but that was only the beginning of my problems. After that incident, it became a daily routine. Wake up in the morning, bath, brush, dress up, eat food that I cooked, ask me for something expensive, and if I decline or deny her, slap me.

It got to a start one day when she said she wanted to change her Peruvian hair to Brazilian in the space of two weeks.

Her: Femi, I want to change my hair. (Yes, we were on a first name basis. BFFs and tins.)
Me: But you changed it last week, and it cost me two fortunes and one antique painting. I don’t even see what the difference is.
Her: This is Peruvian and I don’t like it. I want a new one. And I don’t expect you to fuck me up like you’re used to doing.
Me: The answer, honey, is no! I could buy you a hair pin that says “Brazilian Hair” if that will make any difference. But as far as getting Brazilian hair for you is concerned, you are On Your Own like a house in Ibadan.

And this is when she slapped me…for the last time.

I have never been so angry before. I pushed over the kitchen table, and started beating her to a pulp! How could she dare?! Lay one more finger on me again? I think not! I grabbed a kitchen knife and cut them all off! But why stop there? I cut off her limbs and gave her a nice H&M short sleeve look to sport. Then that head…that head that just had to have Brazilian hair. That head had to go!
By the time I was done, she looked like she was fresh out a thriller video. Then the gravity of what just happened hit me

Now I’m in this cell wondering if I could have continued to bear what was actually my fault and avoided this.

But pause to ask yourself, who is the real victim here?

This story is purely fictional, Maybe? At least in this part of the world it’s really not that prominent, but i have seen children disrespect and show total disregard for their folks by the use of words which i have to say can at times be worse than any physical abuse or at least a decent substitute.

What Could have been done differently?

If you were FEMI, what steps would you have taken to avoid this or what do you do now?

what role does our Up-bringing play on who we become later on?

Have you witnessed an abusive relationship before? How did it affect you?

What did you do to overcome the trauma?

Do share an opinion.(‘Firsts’ and ‘Nice Posts’ are only acceptable as long as you come back to say something.)

Cheers People.

Its Date Days Baby

The Way You Are


I have had a very very short time on earth and in that little period I have seen so many people underrate themselves, under-value themselves and some just plainly look at themselves and see absolutely nothing worthy. To me, this is simply a recipe for disaster.

Human beings will seek to get as much as they can from such people, be it physical or material as long as they are sure that you don’t know your worth and are simply looking for people to approve of you.

Well today, true to my style and theme I write this to all insecure girls out there and hope this helps you.

I can’t speak for everyone out there but for myself I would say, I’m a decent guy(at least many babes have told me so) :p and I will like to believe that there are a number of decent guys out there.

I tend to always want to look out for the best in people. Half the time I ignore their faults and although it comes back to haunt me a lot I always feel I have done my teeny weeny bit in helping the person.

And if I tell a girl I like her, tharizzit for me. But I’ve come to learn that many girls will rather block someone out because of insecurity issues and other related woman palaver but how I wish that for that moment in time they will just trust that we are not all out to ‘use and dump’ you.

This is my Motto:
If I meet a girl and she thinks she is ugly, not my fault, I like you just the way you are.

If I tell you I like your feet and you tell me you think you have ‘yams’, I like you just the way you are.

You hide a part of you when we are in deep conversations, well I would like you to give me more but still I like you just that way.

I tell you that you have a wonderful shape and all you see is a fat blurb, well I like you just the way you are.

I tell you that you have nice eyes, you say you need contact lenses, I like you just that way.

I tell you that you have a great sense of humor but you keep hiding that part of you because your ‘ex’ didn’t like you, I still like you that way.

I tell you that you dress well but you like going out mostly at night so that people won’t scrutinize you that much, well I like you that way.

Believe me just this once and let us together come out of this dark alley you find yourself in.

All I’m saying is, not all guys want a perfect girl and a girl that is ‘all that’. All we want is someone who is comfortable in their own skin and who is ready to learn and improve herself. #shikena

But you see, even as a decent guy there is a limit to which I can ignore your insecurities and not allow it affect me.

Another ‘decent’ guy might not be so patient and quickly move on to the next P and leave you in a worse condition.

Other guys will happily do ‘chop & clean mouth’. (God dey)

You need to start to see a better you before anyone else will see a better you.

You need to build your confidence and not depend on your mood or state of mind to know whether to smile or not.

There is someone out there that will fall absolutely and madly in love with you ‘THE WAY YOU ARE’ but you have to be ready and allow them love you. If not, they will get away.

Now you might ask how does someone go from being insecure to being a confident person.

*inserts beyonce’s Who Run The World*
I might not like her but in ‘your own world’ you have to first believe that you run it. You are in charge of your life and only you can determine what goes on in there.

You have to have a great structure support i.e. Family and friends. Refer to my post on this topic so that you understand who and what friends and family really are and the role they are to play.

For me, you have to have a personal and wonderful relationship with GOD. There are things that only He can understand and will definitely just calm your nerves and give you an unexplainable warmth in your heart. Don’t believe me, Try it today?

Ask yourself this question: when you wake up in the morning and look at the mirror what do you see?

So, again I have come with all my crazy and funny stuff I know, I wrote this 1month ago but it didn’t feel right to post it then.

Insecurity has robbed people of discovering themselves. Now all we see is people bending themselves to fit the ‘spec’ of the person they are with at any particular time. This is so not right! Or is it?

What’s your take on the whole issue?

How can you and I be of help to people that are insecure?

How can we make relationshiposphere a better place?

As usual share your opinions in the comment box.
Cheers.

P.S. For the first time I wrote on someone else’s blog and tried my hands on humour. Check it out at http://kevinwithanl.wordpress.com , its titled Must Read. Lemme know what you think. Thanks.