Life tosses some obstacles along your way and one is expected to count on experiences and learn lessons.
Other times, it just doesn’t Add up and we just wadewade through waters hoping for the best.

He hadn’t returned her calls. Not a single one. All the 34 times she called, he didn’t pick up his phone. He was leaving for his Masters Degree in Scotland in a week. She knew what this meant. But no. This wasn’t the average situation. He couldn’t just leave her like this. He dare not. He had only two really close friends that he did everything with and those two had left a week earlier for the same Masters Degree in Scotland. She didn’t have their numbers or anything like that and so there was no help there. She could…
“…and that is one of the reasons why it’s important to keep our eyes on the prize, the eternal glory lest we fall and lose out completely.” The pastor’s voice brought her back to where she was. She sighed. Eternal glory was presently not her central concern. She ran her hands over her skirt, adjusting the pleats as the pastor continued.
“Parents have a duty to their children, to ensure that they grow up immersed in the word of God and the understanding that the eternal glory is the ultimate…”
Yes, they should. She agreed. At least he had fulfilled that duty. She looked up at him but his eyes didn’t meet hers. She had helped him knot his tie this morning and managed a proud smile as the red tie sat beautifully against his white shirt from the pulpit where he stood. Being a pastor’s daughter wasn’t all bad. She only hated the incessant prayers, meetings and fellowships at her house. He wasn’t overly strict or restrictive. All he constantly said was “use your discretion and may the Lord guide you.” Her mother was the difficult one. Constantly going on and on about properly carrying the image of the pastor’s daughter and being a role model to the girls in the church because they all looked up to her. She didn’t care then and she didn’t care now.
“…brethren it is very essential and it cannot be over-emphasized. I’m not saying that the road is an easy one…” Her father brought back her attention. Oh yeah. The road she was currently on wasn’t an easy one. She hadn’t heard from Dapo in days.
She desperately wanted to tell him that she was late, by a week but he had been so busy with his preparations for school that she hadn’t been able to get a hold of him.
Later that night, she could barely look at their faces as they had dinner. It was even worse when he asked her to share the grace. Never in her life had she felt so guilty and as she said those words, the thought of her predicament sent a warm chill down her spine. She couldn’t wait to get to her room and get it over with.
As soon as she was done with the dishes, she ran up to her room as quickly as she could, made a quick stop to Adeola’s room and tucked in her little sister in bed with a kiss on her forehead. This had become a nightly thing. Dee wouldn’t sleep if  she didn’t show up and they both loved it. It had made them become very close over the last year even if the age gap was fairly considerate.
She quietly shut the door, tiptoed to her room and locked herself in her bathroom with the bag she had gotten from her best friend, Cynthia. She brought out the pack and proceeded to read the instructions; all she had to do was pee on a stick and she will be certain whether she was going to die or be murdered. Just three minutes more and her life would either continue as before or be changed forever…
It had been a few hours since she had seen the results and she had cried all night long. She wanted to talk to Dapo but he still hadn’t responded to any of her calls or texts. She cried herself to sleep and prayed that indeed there would be a ray of light in the morning.
She woke up to a text and a few missed calls from him and had hardly rubbed the sleep off her eyes before she quickly called the number back, “Dapo, where the hell have you been?! I’ve called you countless times!”.
“I am sorry, I have no excuses. If I try explaining it’ll sound like I’m telling lies so can I just apologize? How have you been?”
“Not good. Not good at all. We need to talk, Can we meet up today? It’s very urgent”.

“Ok.. Noon.”
“What do we do about this now?” , he asked as they sat in an eatery two streets away from her house. I’m going to school in a couple of days and you are going to resume for a new term in a couple of weeks as well.” He swallowed. “There is no way we can keep this.”
“What?! Are you telling me to abort it?”

He looked down at his hands and then looked at her, “Yes. This is the last thing we both need right now.”
She shook her head. “It’s bad enough that we have put ourselves in this predicament, and are not really ready for the consequences but I am certain I do not want to take it out. I will never forgive myself.”
She got home with a determination to tell her dad as soon as she could but was sceptical about telling her mother and what she could say or do to her so she had to bid her time.
Three weeks passed and she hadn’t summoned enough courage to tell anyone. She had started puking in the morning and quickly rushed to school everyday to avoid a slip and her mum stumbling on her secret.

She fell asleep during classes and just couldn’t, for the life of her, pay attention to anyone or anything. The body odour from their mathematics teacher, Mr. Akudo, usually not so bad, and drawing only scrunched up noses from the students, was suddenly unbearable for her. It felt like her whole body was suddenly awake. The sudden heaviness of her mammaries, strangely welcome at this time and the only thing that gave her some hidden joy as her A-cups were finally a full C, and the slightly heightened need to EAT any and everything, were the little bits that finally gave her away.

 Mother walked in on me when I was getting ready for school. This woman! Why did she always have something against knocking?! Mscheeew. I had only a bra on and there were empty wraps of Galaxy chocolate and tubes of ice-cream all over the floor.

She looked at my untidy bed and the surrounding junk-pile and was about to give me a speech on how it was shameful for a girl my age to still be told to clean up her room, when her eyes fell on my naked body. It was obvious from the way the blood drained from her face and the way her eyes went from simple disapproval to full blown shock, that she knew.
She shut the door and locked it, walked over to my bed, sat down, and stared at me like I was some stranger who had just walked into her home and sat at her table.

She asked how long, I said I didn’t understand what she was saying. 

She asked again, “How long?” This time with eyes so piercing, they sent chills coursing through my body. 

There was no point in hiding anymore. Mothers, they always know how to spot differences and she had birthed 3 of us, she KNEW.

“A few weeks.” I managed to muster.

“Ah! Aderonke Oluwasemilore Esther Adebiyi o ti pa mi!” She exclaimed.

“Omo pastor! I am finished.” She looked at my belly as her eyes moistened. “We have to tell your father. Please tell me you know who is responsible for it?” 

I was able to muster a crooked smile.

“I don’t sleep around mum, It happened once and this happened.”

A tear dropped from her eyes as I could sense her disappointment.  She was fighting hard not to show it but it was written all over her tone and her face.
After grilling me about Dapo and being rest assured that he was aware and wasn’t harboring any sinister plans to put me or the baby in harms way, she hugged me and told me she’ll stand with me as we told dad and would do all in her power to ensure he didn’t overreact.
“She has to get out of my house. None of my children is going to put the name I have worked for decades to build to shame. NO NO NO! She is leaving my house. What do you want the church council to say? The head pastor preaches everyday about sexual purity and yet his first daughter is pregnant at 17 and barely out of secondary school.”

“Daddy, you know that this isn’t the best course of action. I know you are angry but don’t punish her, she is already distraught as is.” 

She winked at me and i immediately understood what it meant. Off to my room I went, hoping for my miracle.
“If you kick her out, just know that i will leave with her and Deola. None of my kids is going to be left abandoned.”

I couldn’t stay away and this was the first thing i heard while eavesdropping. 

It was going to be a long night. 

God I need you now more than ever before.

Kevin Pt. II

The phone rang.

He got up from the table, staggering slightly. His head swam and for a second, he thought he was going to fall. He laughed shakily, his hands gripping the table for support. He walked on water-legs to the bed where he had dropped his phone and as his hands touched it, it stopped ringing.

“Shtuupid shit!” he yelled at the phone them suddenly burst into fits of giggles.

He unlocked the phone and with unsteady hands opened the call tab. His bleary eyes tried to focus on the number when the phone began to ring again.

He clicked the answer button.

“Ye..yesh?” he slurred.

“My my. Aren’t we in our cups today” a dry voice said.

Kevin’s hands tightened on the phone, holding it in a death grip.


The voice chuckled softly. “Yes Kevin. Me”

“How did you…getch this number!” Kevin yelled, his red rimmed eyes bulging in fury.

“Oh I have my ways, don’t you worry. It’s been 6 months since they died yes?”


Kellan chuckled. “How does it feel? How does it feel to be without a family? To be alone? You feel the enjoyment I feel? The freedom?”

Kevin shook with fury.

“I heard it was an electric mishap. A freak accident. How convenient Kelvin. Did you set that up for them to die?”


“You were oh so righteous, condemning me as a murderer. I bet you did a jig when I got Life, Kelvin. Who knew you had it in you? Killing your beautiful wife, your sons, and daughter. Bravo!”

Tears of fury blurred Kevin’s eyes.

He knew he had to cut the phone but something stilled his hand. The need to punish himself.

He did kill them.

God damn Kellan but he had killed them.

He swallowed a thick sob.

“Are you crying?” Kellan’s voice softly asked. “Big man tears. Let me guess. You are planning on killing yourself aren’t you?”

Without waiting for a reply Kellan continued, his voice turning hard.

“You are a weak man. Fucking weak! At least I faced my wife when I did her in. I faced her! Bashed her head in repeatedly even after she had died. I fucking kept bashing. That was power you snivelly bastard! I made sure I touched my girl before I choke…”

Kevin decided he had heard enough. He ended the call, eyes streaming as he stared at the black object in disgust. Suddenly, with a scream of rage, he threw his phone at the wall, staring as it bounced and hit the floor, falling apart on collision.

He stood staring at the phone. As if daring it to come back on.

He slid down to the floor and curled himself in a foetal position.

“I killed them…”

A heart-wrenching sob, tore away from his throat, coming out of his mouth in waves.

He screamed curses as tears ran unchecked down his face.

He choked, sputtering as another scream vented itself out of him.

“Grace…my love…Josh, oh Josh…Amy…you would have become a beautiful woman…My Luke…my family…”

His heart twisted in agony and shame.

Grief tied his soul in knots.

His body shook, his chest heaved. “My love..”

He murmured wordlessly, rocking himself to sleep.

The cold, damp floor woke him and sobered him up.

He got up and cleaned the dried snot on this face with the edge of his shirt. Gingerly, he walked back to the table where the gun still lay.

He eyed it.

Beside it was a half glass of rum. He took the glass, hands trembling from the chill.

He needed a drink.

He lifted it to his mouth and suddenly, threw the glass to the floor, spilling its content.

“No..” he whispered. “No more drinking. Grace would not have approved. The children cannot see me this way.”

He sat down and picked up the gun. He opened the chamber and stared at the one bullet in with a mixture of surprise and fear.

He’d have blown his brains out, had he pulled the trigger the second time.

Slowly, he extracted the lone bullet and palmed it. Admiring its shape, he brought it to his lips and slowly kissed it, whispering the name of his wife and kids.

He whispered two other names.

The bullet felt cold against his lips.

He couldn’t kill himself.

He had a man to save.


It took him two weeks to get himself physically presentable.
His unkempt beard was the first to come off.

He clothes finally got the water and soap treatment. He could almost hear Grace scold him about his dirty clothes.

He bought new clothes with money he could ill afford to spend.

Yet, two weeks wasn’t enough time to remove the drowning look in his eyes.
The eyes his partner -former partner- James was staring at in incredulity.
“You wanna do what??”
Kevin sighed. “I know…odd. Since it’s still open, I will take it.”
James stared at him again, taking in his gaunt look.

Kevin tried to remain cool under scrutiny. He knew what James was seeing; a man trying to cling to life, a desperate man.

He cleared his throat. “Just this one favour. No one in the firm would take the case. I will do it pro-bono. I am not looking for money. Just…”

James nodded. He was right. No one wanted the case anyway.
‘My God he looks dead’ he thought morbidly as he brought out a file.
“I hope you know what you’re doing” James said solemnly as he handed the thin blue file to Kevin.

He watched him open it, eyes unreadable.
“Thanks James” he whispered, voice gravelly. James waved off the thanks.
Suddenly he stood up.

“Thanks man. Gotta go”

Without waiting for a reply, he got off the swiveling seat and exited the office, leaving James staring at the seat in thought.


“Your case has been reopened”
Kellan’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh? By whom?”
“Mr Kevin Ibinado”.

Kellan paused, surprised.

“Trouble, Mr Kellan?”

He shook his head.

Of course that was a lie.

He was a bit troubled.


They met in court and no word passed between them. As they sat opposite each other, waiting for the judge to begin the appeal proceeding, Kellan turned to his attorney.

“Look I’m glad you decided to come to your senses and represent me…”

Kevin looked at him with dead, expressionless eyes.

Kellan shuddered slightly, turning away, breaking eye contact.

He became worried.

‘Would he try to destroy my case?’ he thought to himself.

He stole glances at Kevin but couldn’t read his face.

‘A dead man’  he thought and rubbed his arms exposed by the short sleeved prison garb briskly.

The court was in session minutes later.

Suddenly, Kevin turned while the prosecution was speaking.

He beckoned for Kellan to lean in closer.Kellan leaned in.

“I might not have been able to save mine” Kevin whispered “But this is justice for your family”

Kellan turned, eyes confused before he realized what what going to happen in growing horror.

He tried to move but Kevin slammed the butt of the gun which he had brought out of his jacket, under his jaw and without hesitation, pulled the trigger.

The loud report of the gunshot startled everyone.

The court was in shock and a bailiff turned, throwing up breakfast on the floor at the sight of the blood.

“That was for your wife and daughter” he whispered to the bloodied head flopped beside him.

He had redeemed himself.

He was saved.

Suddenly, he chuckled.

“Finally got rid of him, Grace” he whispered as the police drew nearer to his blood splattered body to arrest him.


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.”


“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.

Good Ol’ Ego

I’ve had the privilege of studying a great number of couples out on dates and it is undeniable the powerful effects money can have, positive and negative, on relationships.

Without doubt, one of the ways best favoured by people to bond with others is over a good meal and this, on a daily, brings a lot of clientele through the doors of the rather distinguished establishment in which I offer my services. I receive far more couples on dates than individuals and groups of people, day or night, and this has given me the opportunity to observe, to a great extent, couples out participating in the dating game.

Don’t get me wrong now, I’m not claiming to be an expert on such matters. Far from it, I’m just an observer who’s trying to learn from the experiences and mistakes of others before taking the plunge myself. Is this not wisdom? *wink*

Doing what I do requires me to know a few of my costumers really well. A few of them have me really intrigued to the point that in relating with them during the course of business, we begin to relate on a bit more of a personal level. Let me introduce one family I have come to respect and love to you.

The Owolabis come in regularly. They are accustomed to living affluently and coming to a classy restaurant is pretty normal to them. Practically the whole family comes in, individually or collectively, at different intervals during any given week.

Chief and Dr Mrs come in to dinner as a couple at least once a month. Things weren’t always this way though. They started small and humble and worked hard to build the empire they presently control. Dr Mrs once regaled me with the tale, to chief’s embarrasment, of how in their youth, before they were married, he would take her on only cheap dates. She recounted how the park not far from the London apartment she shared with coursemates was his favourite spot for dates because, as a foreign student on scholarship, he couldn’t afford to take her anywhere remotely fancy; and how he would slave over home-made sandwiches and freshly squeezed orange juice or the likes for their refreshment as they picnicked; and how she would make them walk to and from the park because she knew he really couldn’t afford the cab-fare he kept trying to insist they took, all in the name of chivalry. She stuck with him through the early days and now (she would gesture to the grandness around her), just look at the grand way they live.

Now, this would ordinarily be quite an inspiration to me, to work hard, make something of my life and the good things would then come. But all I felt was a strange mixture of respect and pity for her.

Respect, because the come-uppance Chief and Dr Mrs had experienced would solidify the love the wife had for her husband, but pity, because it had only turned the man into the weaker vessel, eroding the initial connection felt towards wife by him.

Coming into wealth he had never been exposed to previously only opened Kashimawo Owolabi’s eyes to the finer things he could have now that he could never have had back then. Things he is determined to now enjoy despite being advanced in years. He rolls around in heavy socialite circles, not for business, but just for the fun of it. Rides in fast and exotic cars that his son should be ridding himself of now. And beds some of the hottest women I have ever… or will ever lay my eyes upon. I can picture that in his mind, his wealth has given him access to the women he would have even been too ashamed to say a simple “hello” to in the days of his youth. He would sometimes bring these women to Greene’s to wine and dine them before heading on to the Five Corner’s down the street, obviously to get his money’s worth in kind.

Further contribution to the pity I have for Dr Mrs are her offspring. They had been born into their parents’ rise into the upper echelon and the wealth would come to greatly affect their outlook on life in general and dating and relationships in particular.

Kudirat, the first child, much like her siblings, had always gotten everything she wanted growing up. Problem here is, she wants everything else! Having acquired a ravenous sexual appetite far exceeding her father’s, she has brought every class of men imaginable to the restaurant. I have seen Kudi, in the stoking of imminent passion, dine government officials, captains of industries and even royalty and at other times, seductively wine homeless men, her own driver and much to my pleasure then and shame now, even the young manager of Greene’s, my humble self. (*-_-)

Kashimawo Jr (Kash Jr to his friends), the only son, in getting everything he wanted, had discovered his own peculiar tastes and then stuck to them. Or better put, stuck to him. I do not believe I have ever seen Kash at dinner here alone with another individual besides Karimu Owolafe. Kash and Kari, to Dr Mrs Owolabi, are just the best of friends, despite Kari’s very humble backgrounds. However, thanks solely to Kash’s influences and access to wealth, they have gone everywhere and done everything together. Emphasis on ‘did‘, ‘every‘ and ‘thing‘ and may I add ‘each other‘? I shall now leave the rest to your perverted imagination. (-_-)

Monie, the baby of the house, seems to be the only one who aspires to live a responsible social life. Oh, I’m sorry, scratch the ‘social’ there. Moni, after all, lacks any semblance of a social life. Always the wise, introspective and perceptive one, seeing the paths her siblings had chosen to take in their dating lives and recognizing the attendant pitfalls, she made her mind up early that she would not fall prey to any gold-digger types, temporarily or permanently, and as such, set her standards high. This one has high tastes. Very exquisite tastes. So exquisite, that I doubt any living person can satisfy them. I have never seen her on a date, here in her favourite restaurant, with another actual person. I’ll admit though, I Have seen her on several dates here, I just haven’t ever been able to see her date. The waiters always remain weirded out when they have to serve two places at her table and she is talking to and laughing with someone in the opposite chair they can’t hear or see. I’ve actually heard them in the back room arguing over whose turn it was to suffer the ordeal of attending her table.

So sad. *smh*

Whenever, I remember the Owolabis in general, I feel a little sadness for the Dr Mrs. Especially after all the sacrifices she made for her family.

Oh, did I forget to mention those sacrifices earlier? Well, my apologies.

Ms Ego Oputachi, while on an advanced medical program at Oxford University sometime in the 70s, would meet and fall in love with an engineering student with a rugged demeanor and a bright outlook on life. Recognising this moslem yoruba boy’s prospects and his immense love for her, she would ignore her very tribalistic father’s threats of denouncing her as his daughter, thereby severing all ties with the wealthy background rife with highly placed connections from which she comes to marry him. Only through much toiling and fighting together against all the odds would Mr and Mrs Owolabi of back then become the influential figures they are now.

In other words, it would appear it is as possible for money not to positively affect the ego of a couple trying their hand at the dating game as it is to negatively affect either or both individuals.


Personally, I don’t need whoever I eventually end up with to be rich or highly connected. I just need her to truly believe in me and I’ll bring whatever she believes to life. I just want to find me my own Ego to boost my deflating ego.

How big is your ego?


Ego, Power & Respect

Hello People

I think I’ll start off by giving the definitions of the three things I want to talk about:

I see Power as an attribute that allows you to influence people and/or outcomes to favor your desires.

The Ego is a sense of self esteem, or self worth. However, since this is Date Days 2, I’d like you to assume that my use of “Ego” here is synonymous with pride.

Respect is the feeling of admiration you have for someone or something.

Power comes in many forms, mostly physical and materialistic. These forms of power are truly advantageous, but I’m more interested in the mental and emotional form of power. You see, you could move people towards your goals by brute strength, or by using money but that is pure coercion. I believe there is greater power in having the genuine love and respect of others. They will bend to your will out of their own free will. Let’s transfer this thought into a relationship between two people. The power you have over someone else is yours simply because that person trusts you with his/her emotions.

Manipulating someone’s emotions is a blatant sign of weakness. Your partner is neither your property, nor your slave. Respect your partner, and more importantly, respect yourself. How you treat yourself plays a huge role in the way others treat you. Love yourself, but do not be self-absorbed to the degree that you’re blind to the feelings of your partner. Selfishness is an extension of the negativity of having a swollen ego. All you will end up doing is taking your partner for granted. Humble yourself and listen to your partner. Be patient. Be thoughtful. Try and put yourself in that person’s shoes all in your attempt to understand him/her.

Respect also has a lot to do with self-restraint. Not everyone is an open book; respect people’s space and their right to privacy. Better still, respect people by leaving them alone especially when you know you know you aren’t what they need/want. Be honest with yourself at all times, and try to differentiate between offenses to your ego and those to your person.

It takes a lot of time and patience to get to know someone first, talk more of accepting them for who they are. It also takes humility to respect people’s habits. It’s also a sign of strength of character when you refrain from the guilt trips, the emotional blackmail et al.  Everyone has something to offer, and it’s pure arrogance to think you’re better than your partner. Nobody knows it all. I mean, nobody’s perfect.

Don’t misunderstand me though. I’m not saying you should turn yourself into a doormat, or an emotional dustbin. If you’re constantly being maltreated, respect yourself and leave.

Reflect on these little questions:

Do you know what you want from your partner?

Have you ever manipulated your partner’s emotions?

To what degree does your pride affect your relationship with others?

Are you willing/ready to receive the same treatment you dish to your partner, or do you have a double standard?

Are you quick to be defensive when an issue arises? Are you quick to play the blame game?


Money In Relationships

Relationships on a regular should be about the people involved and their feelings. These days it’s about how much you have at the moment, how much you plan to have in the next few years.

I’m not sure at what point we lost the main focus of relationships and turned it into an emotional business deal. It has become majorly a case of “what shall I gain from this?”.

Personally I do not put much emphasis on money when I’m thinking of relationships, and that is because I can afford most things myself but I have to admit that it is easier being with someone who’s financially stable or to a large extent, independent. I also believe in helping your partner especially when you’ve decided in your heart that this is who you want to be with for a while.

To survive in a relationship in today’s world we need money……. Be it  for communication, fun or just basic surviving.

If we are to look at communication, you need money to do this, and in this world where there is a blackberry craze everywhere, you would need to pay for your BIS. And in all honesty, you can’t keep all the communication to blackberry alone because there are some things/feelings which are gotten through speaking/hearing the voice of the other party. And considering the fact that an average person has over 50 contacts on his/her blackberry, as a partner in a relationship, you would need to go the extra mile lest you lost in the crowd.

Heaven help you if you are in a long distance relationship like across the ocean kinda thing. You’d spend more on communication, be it calls, text or good internet for all those your skype dates and others. I guess that is part of the reason why they say LDR isn’t for the faint hearted.

Let us look at the fun aspect of the relationship; because every now and then you need to put spice in your relationship else it starts to feel like a routine. If you want to catch a movie or go kart racing or something as simple as a hangout at the beach you need money especially if you live in Nigeria where all these things are apparently like gold (God knows why though). To continue to spice things up, you need elements of surprise and flowers don’t count for the average Nigerian girl just like boxers don’t count for the average guy. So you’d need to be grand in your surprises, creative too. And this takes time and money (you just might pay someone to do thinking for you).

Nobody wants to date a liability and just be the one giving; it’s not fun and makes the other person feels taken advantage of. I’m a girl and I pay for stuff too. I know there are a lot of girls that feel like they should be taken care of. And there are a lot of guys with ego problems that feel they should do the paying and when the girl gets used to it, they now say she is a gold-digger. First of all, you taught her how to dig the gold……..in short you created the monster so live with it. And there are a lot of girls who take advantage of  these “generous” guys and ask for the most ridiculous things on earth e.g freshest newest gadgets, fancy cars, designer this and designer that or the persistent craze with all the Brazillian, Peruvian hair.

There are some weird extreme cases like asking for the guy’s 6months bank statement (I find this a tad uncomfortable since they are not engaged or anything like that). While I know it is important to look at the financial status of the person you are with, I think it is wrong when it becomes the major criteria while considering a relationship. The joy is in growing together, building your life together. You get to appreciate each other more because you know that you went through thin together and are coming out thick. Unlike when you land with a partner who is already swimming in cash and would constantly see you as an accessory and not an equal partner.

The society too plays a major role in this line of thought as well because you bring a partner home to the family and the question of what they do comes up…….where they live…….where they schooled.  Some even go as far as asking how often the person travels out of the country.

A male friend once told me this “if you meet a guy who isn’t doing so well, ask him about his past, rate his present, consider his principles not his sweet-spoken nonsense and from there predict his future from all he says and all you can get from his body language”.

I guess in essence he was telling me to judge my partner with my head not my heart as the heart has been known to lead people astray.

No one is saying you should walk blindly into a relationship with someone that cannot meet his/her needs and has no intention of trying. Just make sure that the size of the wallet isn’t your major “attraction”.

There was a point in this life when all you needed for a relationship to work was the commitment of the people involved. Now the commitment can be “bought” because

‘Love isn’t all that matters any more’.


Tosin just shared her views on the role of money in relationships. Agree? Disagree?

What are your takes on the financial aspect to relationships?

when and where should it be be brought in as a criteria in Relationshiposphere?

Do share your view with us using the comment box.


The Order Of Things

Under the meager amber light, in the privacy of fogged windows, the slightly custardy smell of David’s ejaculation fills the car. In a few minutes, he would clean up most the evidence of his ‘pleasurement’ from his uncle’s vehicle but Laide would forget an earring.

The following morning, Laide’s forgotten earring would be the cause of another argument between Mr. and Mrs. David’s uncle, all the way from their big home in the old-money section of the Magodo residential area to the Third Mainland Bridge where the missus would demand to be let out as soon as she discovers a shiny piece of condom wrapper. The letters ‘G’, ‘O’, ‘L’ and half a ‘D’ are usually not so upsetting – they are however printed on a maroon background in the same colour as the height of David’s excitement.

David’s uncle wouldn’t have been excited about David using his new Mercedes S550 for intimate purposes but the smile on Laide’s face when a classy car had picked her up and parked at the dark end of a quiet street would have melted his old heart. With only a little seduction, as prescribed by David’s friends, Laide’s purple panties had obeyed gravity.

Laide had asked David to turn on the air conditioner but David had immediately claimed that he liked things hot and steamy. Actually, he had been as uncomfortable as Laide but he was conserving some fuel for the drive back home. He had spent the last Thousand Naira in his wallet buying canned percentages at a supermarket down the road from where he picked the girl and he would have had an extra Five Hundred Naira if she had not wanted Fox biscuits. There was just enough gas in the car to get him home without alerting the gas-level warning lights and his uncle’s car, as his uncle always boasted had never had reason to complain about insufficient petrol. It would have been unwise to leave evidence of his indiscretion in so obvious a manner.

It had been somewhat tricky too, the sex, partly because it was David’s first time and because sedan manufacturers apparently do not make allowances for such adventures in their schematics. Laide, as a result, had endured several head bumps to the rhythm of Ice Prince’s not so intelligent music that was coming from the disc player. She had also braved leather seat burns, and general postural discomfort but thankfully, it had been over in four minutes, thirty three seconds. She had confirmed this from the dashboard – David had started grunting on her at exactly sixteen minutes past six and the car had stopped heaving at exactly twenty minutes past six. He’d wiped the retarded look off his face and stopped his “aaaaaaaah” in thirty three seconds –  the clock had showed thirty-four in green immediately he’d stopped spraying the smell of cheap beer in her face.

The most important thing is that about two hours later, when Laide gets back to her cramped room in Unilag, she would have the singular pleasure of telling Vanessa, Seun, Fatima and some random girl that came into the room with Fatima that she has just been fucked in her boyfriend’s S-Class, somehow forgetting that David has never asked her to be his girlfriend and he has never expressly claimed ownership of the car.

On getting home, David would give a status report to Femi and Tolu, his friends, via SMS. Femi wouldn’t reply because he doesn’t think much of the occurrence but Tolu would send his congratulations and also contact Femi. They would discuss David’s recent luck and share a joke about Laide, the plain girl they had encouraged David to talk at some boring party the previous week. They would more so, find wickedly hilarious David’s choice of music. They would then make plans to attend a very lecherous event in the weekend to come, one David’s pocket or personality cannot afford. They don’t even think to invite David. They would shout Magikshun at the same time and burst into laughter again before hanging up. Magician is a peculiar song by Ice Prince, David’s ballad of choice.

Femi would  send a text message almost immediately after the conversation, bragging very casually that he would be attending the event with Vicky, and Tolu, not to be outdone, would let Femi know that he has made plans with Vicky’s less beautiful but still attractive friend, Ginika. Tolu would remember how at the party where he had found Laide for David, he had also found Vicky for himself, but Femi had usurped him. Tolu had, as a result switched over to Ginika and they’d gone back to his place that night. After all their years as friends, he still wasn’t ready to get used to the idea that whenever his taller, richer, better looking friend was around, he was destined to get the second best girl. Femi would control everything wherever they went, from the labels they drank to the time they went home even if he wasn’t financially responsible. If Femi was having a bad night, nobody could have a good one and if he was enjoying himself, he didn’t care about them. Tolu didn’t mind though because Femi, who loved being the center of attraction, was also always the entertainment and even though he charmed all the girls, he couldn’t take them all home. The second best girl would settle for the second best guy as well.

David’s uncle investigations would eventually lead to David.

Femi, without consulting Tolu, would invite David for the party the following week when he realizes that the Mercedes would be much better transport than his Chrysler car which is undergoing repairs and might not be ready in time. Unfortunately, David’s uncle is not as careless with his car keys as he once was but Femi cannot withdraw the invitation. The trio, with their dates would attend the party in Tolu’s uninspiring Toyota. Femi would drive and Tolu would be co-pilot. David would uncomfortably sit in the middle of three almost naked girls.

And they would all have a good time until Vicky leaves Femi when she  discovers two pretty friends in the entourage of a local celebrity. Femi would try to displace Tolu but Ginika and is very content with her just tall enough, just rich enough, just handsome enough man.

In thirty minutes, Femi would be dancing with Laide and David would be left to the awkward task of pretending to have fun all by himself.