Unprecedented.


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.

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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.

One Way Street


She held his hands as he was wheeled away into the theatre. Tears flowed down her eyes as the man whom she loved more than anything else in the world had his life in the hands of another man who was about to perform a Transoral Incisionless Fundoplication. She was advised to go home as it was going to be a long surgery due to his age and other medical complications. “I’ll  rather wait”, she insisted as she proceeded to the waiting area.
They had met 39yrs ago while they were in the university and she fell head over heels in love with him. He was quiet, calm, easygoing and humble. Nothing like the other guys she knew. When he asked her to be his, she kept him waiting for some weeks just to tease him and then she finally gave in.

In less than 18 months they were married and had a roller coaster of a honeymoon. They were an inseparable pair and due to the fact that he was a young and budding business tycoon, they were always in the spotlight but this did not affect their relationships. They weren’t just husband and wife as they treated each other like best friends, brother and sister, father and daughter, mother and son and most importantly, lovers. Many said that their kind of love didn’t happen to everyone. They were so close, it was almost annoying.

Ten years passed and though she was yet to conceive, he remained sweet and loving and he never complained. Even when his family started putting pressure on him over their childlessness, he still remained kind and loving. He never treated her with anger or disgust nor did he stand for such by his relatives towards her. Many nights she had gone to bed crying not because of their childless state but because she was overwhelmed at how unreal his loving attitude was to her in the face of their unfortunate situation. She knew he deeply wanted a child, as there was an obvious void in his heart that only a child of his own could fill. They went to all the best doctors they could find and all the tests results came back the same. “You’re both fine. Keep trying.”

And try they did.

Ten more years passed and nothing changed. She was not pregnant and he was not less loving and supportive. She brought up the idea of adopting kids one night but he didn’t want to hear of it. “If they’re not from you then they’re not meant for me” he had said.
Since they were no kids to look after, they had thrown themselves into work. He was the CEO of a group of companies and so had to attend endless board meetings which caused him to work till very late at night. He never let her work so one boring afternoon she had discovered her love for designing & sewing clothes and started a fashion house. Although she mostly worked from home, it was demanding which was why he agreed to let her do it as it would take her mind off their lack of kids.

One night at about 2.00a.m, she was up looking through sketches that some interns had submitted for the upcoming collection and suddenly her phone rang. She remembered looking at the screen with annoyance. She had employed way too many people to handle calls for the fashion house for it to be a dissatisfied customer.

“Can I please speak to Agatha Ohalete” the voice on the other end asked.

“Yes this is she.”

“We need you to please come to St Luke Hospital, urgently.”

“Who is on the line please?” she asked slightly alarmed.

“I’m Nurse Efe. Mr. Ohalete collapsed at his office and was rushed in. As soon as he was conscious, he asked us to call you.”

She immediately jumped up, knocking over the glass of wine she had been sipping from, causing its contents to spill over the papers she had been looking at. Without thinking, she ran out of the house, into her car and sped off to the hospital.

On getting to the hospital, she asked the nurse about her husband, Mr. Ohalete. She was asked to wait while she got a doctor. She was pensive. After what must have been about 15mins, Dr. Smith came and took her to private room 107, asked her to sit down and offered her a glass of water. “Doctor, can you just tell me what exactly is wrong with Nnamdi?” She asked anxiously, almost ignoring the drink  offered her.

“He came in two weeks ago, complaining of chest pains, heartburns, nausea and trouble swallowing. I prescribed some drugs for him and told him to let me know how he felt in a couple of days. He came back complaining that the pains had gotten worse and the drugs had done nothing. To get a proper idea of what might be wrong, we took X-rays of his chest and throat and upon our findings we performed an Endoscopy and discovered that your husband is suffering from Gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD). It normally shouldn’t be serious but he has a few complications and underlying conditions that we are currently  looking into to ascertain what we are dealing with.”

She almost fainted. Nnamdi had never mentioned that he was in any sort of pain. She had noticed that he had stopped eating as much and as often as he used to and that a few times he would clutch his chest but whenever she asked, he would smile and say that he was giving old age a run for her money.

As soon as the disease was confirmed, he was started on Pantoprazole and Gaviscon. Thankfully he was discharged the day after and told to come again after ten days. She put the drama of the fashion house aside and became his nurse. On the ninth day, he was taking a nap and he suddenly woke up moving wildly, clutching his chest with his mouth wide open like he was struggling to breathe. She rushed him back to the hospital.

After attending to him, the doctor asked her to come with him to a private room and the look on his face told her that it wasn’t going to be pretty. “He is asthmatic. It has stayed hidden all along and has only come about by the weakening of his respiratory tracts. We will have to perform a Nissen Fundoplication as soon as possible because medication would not be sufficient. We need your approval for this.”

Without thinking, she signed the papers and gave them the go ahead. A few more days of tests and he was wheeled in for surgery. A few more trips like this to the operating room came over the years. Rehabilitations in India every few months and a lot of expensive drugs also followed. They were spending more money than both his companies and her fashion house were making and she had to apply for loans.

As all this went on, his health continued to deteriorate and the intensity of the pains he complained of increased. Nothing they did seemed worth it. His relatives had deserted them. She vividly remembered one of them referring to him as a lost cause but no, he was her Nnamdi. She couldn’t stop trying, believing and hoping that he would be better. She loved him too much.
******************************************

“Ma’am…..Ma’am…..he is out of surgery and is presently in recovery.”

His Transoral Incisionless Fundoplication was done. This was a more technical surgery and it was usually done for a minor number of cases of GERD but Nnamdi had asked the doctor to do it after his  Nissen Fundoplication had been unsuccessful. The doctor agreed at his insistence.

“Madam, I am afraid this is going to be the last procedure we can do for him. After this he will have to be on medications alone and just go home and take it easy. I suggest you see another doctor for a second opinion if you feel I am not giving you the best but I can assure you that they will say the same thing. It is the last resort”  Dr Smith said.

This lowered her expectations and after a gruelling 10hrs, Nnamdi awoke and asked for water. He was tired, heck, he looked tired. That was what 5 years of hopelessness and countless procedures could do to you. As soon as he was discharged, they went back home and she continued to nurse him. Her entire life revolved around him. They spent as much time as they could together whenever he felt up for it. He was still in a lot of pain but the meds helped keep it under control.

One morning he started to complain about pain again in his teeth and chest but this time he said it was worse than it normally was. She had him lie down and proceeded to contact the doctor. “You can give him a double dosage of Ibuprofen and we’ll send someone to see him as soon as possible.”

She did as she was instructed but the pain did not stop. A doctor came over and gave him more pain killers but to no avail. He cried until he fell asleep. She cried too, her heart was in pain for him.

The doctor had given him 3months to live after it had been found that he had a stricture that had narrowed his oesophagus and his breathing was declining by the day. There was no medical help for this and he just had to wait till he breathed his last.

This was when he called her and told her what he had in mind to do. She immediately got upset and asked him to never speak of such again. He begged her for days and tried to make her understand. “Agatha, please. It hurts so much. Many nights, the pain makes it impossible for me to sleep. I look at you and it breaks my heart to see that all you do is nurse me. All my teeth feel like they’re not mine. My chest hurts so bad, it feels like I might drop dead the next second. My heart feels…it’s really difficult to breathe. I can’t eat because swallowing hurts and so all I do is regurgitate. Sometimes I’m so nauseous, I feel like I’ve already fainted. I feel like my body is being punished for a heinous crime and my mind is trapped to suffer. Please…” he coughed with pain in his eyes and whispered with the little strength he could muster, “…Please.”

She went to church and prayed, weeping profusely. Life had been very unfair to both of them. They didn’t deserve any of the things that they had gone through. Nnamdi was too kind-hearted for this misfortune. She prayed and prayed until she was spent and then she left and went back home to meet him.

The next morning, she went out to get everything they needed and rushed back home. Nnamdi was still asleep and then she woke him up ever so gently. He weakly smiled at her as he woke up and hugged her. He asked for his Whisky which she had duly brought for him. He opened the bottle, put it to his lips and took three gulps.

He then handed her the bottle and noticed that she was shaking.

“Dont be afraid. You’ll be fine.” he said with a smile.

“I need you to do this. You know that right?” She nodded slowly.

Then he closed his eyes, smiled and whispered “I love you.”

She took his wrist, injected him with a syringe labelled “Sodium Thiopental” and watched him drift into unconsciousness as she whispered “I love you too.”

Tears drifted down her cheeks but she was comforted by the fact that he looked happy.

Three minutes later, she drew a deep breath and then pumped him with Pancuronium Bromide which she was told will cause muscle paralysis and respiratory arrest. His body jerked a little and then he lay still.

Watching that felt like someone had twisted a knife in her heart.

She lifted his body up to her and hugged him ever so closely feeling the heavy, slow beats of his heart. She whimpered as tears ran down her face.

She laid him back down and finally sent Potassium Chloride coursing through his veins to stop his heart.

She had granted his wish.
*****************************************

Have you ever had a friend or family member in so much pain that you just wished you’ll wake up one day and they’ll have gone away to rest?

Sadly it is a crime to perform euthanasia on anyone in Nigeria but at times it might just be the only way out.

Do share a comment with us both on the story written or any personal similar experiences using the comment box.

Cheers.

This story was written as usual by @Ms_BeeA and @bule_jr.

 

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

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.