For the sake of ‘Peace’- Parts 2 and 3

Hi guys,

Howdy? Hope you’re all well. Job hunting is going good and I’m really excited that something great is around the corner in Jesus’ name! Thank you for all your kind words. God bless you all.x

Here are Parts 2  and 3 of For the sake of Peace. I have had people call my phone asking me to publish the second part. It took a while because I thought it best to publish two parts at once to compensate for the delay. I honestly hope we learn a thing or two from this. It is lengthier than the first one as much of the story unfolds here.

My good friend put this on her status a few days ago, ‘Better to be single and happy than married and miserable’. Ladies (and gentlemen), please keep that in mind whenever you feel a tinge of envy or pain that all your friends are getting married or engaged and you are all alone. Marriage is too important to be messed with or entered into without caution. Get excited, not for that one day, but for the future ahead, the real deal, the Marriage.

Another good friend, Ufoma (CEO, Rubies n Emerald, an event planning company) told me a great wedding can take up to a year planning. That is a 6-10 hour event. How much more should we take in planning a marriage, which we pray will last forever. Go figure!

Please read and learn.

Love lots,

Temiville.xoxo

Marrying you, Dipo was a mistake I knowingly made. It’s like a young girl letting that boy run his hands down her blouse. As his fingers descend, she knows it’s wrong, she knows she should stop him but she lets him go on anyway; not because of any pleasure she feels but because she just wants to go ahead. Now I know it to be self destruct. Oladipo Richard Adeyele, marrying you was an exercise in self destruction.

Surprisingly, the first 6 months as Mrs. Oladipo R. Adeyele were blissful. I changed my display name to that and our perfect wedding photo was constantly my DP. I felt bliss. Thinking back now, I felt that way because I had no expectations whatsoever. Wrong! I had expectations alright. I expected you to start cheating within the first month. Darn, I even knew one of your exes who had the nerve to show up at our wedding in the tightest, boob baring bandage dress I have ever seen, grinding with one of the groomsmen whilst you, my husband looked on, mesmerized then jealous by her show of shame.

Dipo, you surprised me. You see, dear readers, Dipo was not a great or loving man but he let me be. He would eat whatever I served and say a polite thanks. He would text me ‘I’m running late’ if he would be home after 9pm. He would compliment my homemaking efforts before his friends and family. He would gobble down my ogbono experiment which recipe I got from the Facebook page- So you think you can cook. The sex with him was mechanical, efficient, machine like, ritualistic- kiss, fondle, sex – in that order- nothing like I’d hoped but it was okay and at least, got me pregnant in the 10th month of our marriage.

My dream had come true! Finally, he would pet me, cuddle me or at least cuddle my bump. I had finally gotten the glue to bind us in love. I was already 3 months pregnant before noticing. I was one of those medical mysteries because I still saw my period during the first 2 months of my pregnancy so though I had gained a bit of weight, I had attributed it to my many trips to Ice-cream Factory. I was slower and easily tired,  but I zeroed my mind that it could never be down to pregnancy. It was my mother in law who practically forced me to get tested. I called Dipo so excitedly as I left the clinic. Oladipo, you were so excited! You screamed. I’d never been the source of so much joy from you and I was so proud of myself. I grinned from ear to ear like a Chesire cat as I drove back to work.

One day, at 4 months gone, you snapped at me as I got ready to go to your office dinner, ‘can you not find something else to wear?! Your folds are all over the place, Sade in my office is 7 months pregnant and rolls are not hanging everywhere, do something about it woman, I don’t do obesity!’  I didn’t know that tears had started rolling down until I tasted the saltiness. Everyone else had said I was looking fit and great in pregnancy. They said I glowed. But I only believed your words. As I grew bigger, I’d get changed in the bathroom before coming out. I’d wear Body Magic. I didn’t want you to see the ‘rolls and folds’.

Nkechi, my friend was also pregnant and spoke of still having sex with her husband and still being just as desirable to him. She made me blush at her tales of their escapades in and out of bed. Dipo, you and I had stopped engaging in anything remotely related to lovemaking at 4 and a half months into my pregnancy. I felt ugly, disgusting, fat. And so I started using slimming products. I looked for the most drastic in result I could find. I read the instructions carefully and there it was- a healthy, herbal, natural slimming aid. It must be safe, I thought to myself. Within the first 2 weeks, I lost weight enough for you, Dipo, to notice and comment on. I was giddy with joy. Yay! I’d be just like Victoria Beckham and look so slim immediately after child birth. I decided to increase the dosage and it worked. The folds reduced, my thighs had that gap between them, my neck had a hollow. I only had vegetables, fruit and the shake that came with the slimming package. After a month of using, in my 6th month, we had sex, at your instance. I was looking great. That night, I gained your attention. That night, I lost our son.

You wept on the hospital floor. I was numb. The doctor, an elderly family friend, was merciless. I thought it was unprofessional to outrightly blame a woman for her own miscarriage. The doctor threw professionalism to the wind and blamed me for not eating right. My weight was not commensurate with how far along I was given my last statistics when I saw her. I weighed less than I did 3 months before and only had a bump and not as much body to show for my pregnancy. I dared not confess that I was also on drugs to stay slim. She probably would have slapped me there and then. Rightly too. I wanted to kick myself.

On our drive home, you were quiet. I tried to play the victim and would periodically hold on to my belly as though in pain just to get you to touch me and comfort me. Darn! I was the one who had lost her child. But you were having none of it and all you said was, ‘if you need to see the doctor, lemme turn back’. I knew I had lost the battle.

3 months after the miscarriage, on the exact day our son would have turned one week old, I saw the first sign of your infidelity. You received a call, smiled when you saw who was calling and walked out to receive it. You were on the phone for 45 minutes, laughing intermittently.  I knew I was in trouble.

You came back to the house, went straight to our room, had a second bath and got dressed in your best casual native attire, your newest sandals and perfume, took the keys to the new car and mumbled, ‘I’m going out and don’t keep the keys in the lock ’cause I’ll let myself in’. I knew it was over.

I waited for you. My favorite show was on but all I saw were the blurry figures on the screen through my tears. I had finished a whole bottle of white wine. I turn to alcohol when sad. That night, I was worse than sad, I was depressed. It was as though I was waiting for the inevitable sentence of death on my marriage. At 1:15am, you walked in. You were sober and looked happy until you saw me. I brought your straight face out. As much as I wanted and was almost physically itching to, I dared not ask where you had been for two reasons: 1. Early on in our relationship, you had warned me never to inquire as to your whereabouts unless you willingly offered an explanation. 2. I was scared you would be honest and tell me where exactly you had been and the answer would break me. I’d rather not know for sure. So through my post drunken state, I said, ‘welcome, should I bring your food?’.

There was no food but I just wanted to act normal and I was certain you would say no. To my shock, you said yes and proceeded to change the station to watch the replay of your favorite teams’ match screaming at each goal, missed or scored. That confirmed one thing- you had spent the evening and night with someone who didn’t care for football and you sacrificed such a big match for them. You were certainly not with one of the boys, certainly not. I was able to whip up something for you, quickly enough for you not to suspect I’d just started cooking it. You ate it, totally fixated on the tv screen, totally ignoring me. Quietly, I walked to the room and slept off. The time was 2:46 am.

Living a lie is hard. You know your man is cheating, you might even have finally put a face on the bitch’s name. But there you are, playing the dutiful wife. In your mind, it’s better to be an innocent victim, a cheated-on Mrs than have an openly failed marriage. You forget that in both situations, the marriage has failed openly.

Dipo got bolder and bolder. He would stay away for weekends claiming he was away on business trips to Abuja, Ibadan, Akure, Kaduna. He forgot who I am. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. I am a master sleuth, always have been, always will be. I know everything or can at least find out. In Uni, I’d help my girlfriends find out if their men were cheating by just listening to the stories they tell. I knew which boyfriend was outrightly cheating and which was just bored.

Dipo forgot that we put a tracking device on all our 3 cars and with a click, I’d know exactly where the car was located. Through the tracker, I discovered that his mistress was living in Akute, in the outskirts of Lagos. I found out that he would leave his work at 5pm everyday, pick her up and head to hers together. I’m not sure if he would drive behind her or actually pick her up but he was a man of routine and he stuck to this pattern during the week. On Fridays, the car was usually around the Island till 11/12pm before making the journey to Akute where he would sleep. These days, it was on the Island till Saturday which means they thought better of driving in the dangers of the night and just decided to stay in a hotel. Unfailingly, by 12 noon on Saturday, the car would make the journey to Akute. The check out time for most hotels is 12 noon.

My first reaction to Dipo’s cheating was pain, then sadness, then anger. I wished he had a string of girlfriends. That way, I was assured he gave his heart to no one else. But with just one person in his life, it was clear he was in love with her. That was the main problem. It is easier to salvage a marriage where a party gives just their body away. It is very hard where the heart has also been taken away.

My second main reaction was to seek revenge. I called up an ex boyfriend of mine, ‘just to check up’. I even agreed to meet up with him, ready to give in if he made the move. I thought to myself that if I slept with someone too, we would be even and I wouldn’t feel this much hurt and pain. Thank God it was Seun I chose. I had dated Seun in Year 1 in LASU. We broke up and then had a moment during our Masters year. He was eager to rekindle our love and wasn’t detracted by the fact that I had met someone else. His reasoning was that since I wasn’t married, then I could move on. He’d travel from Dundee to Leicester on the Megabus just to see me and hand-deliver now wilting flowers to me. It was exhilarating but I was strong and in order not to succumb, I stopped picking his calls or responding to his messages.

It was hard at first. Those who had met him the two times he came visiting loved his pleasant and fun nature. He once lifted me up in the city centre much to the delight of my friends and the disapproving looks of some stuck up British people. You see, it was so easy to like Seun. For my friends, they preferred him to the so called boyfriend they had never seen and hardly saw me speak to on the phone simply because he made an effort. Whenever Dipo came to the UK, I’d have to leave school and go to wherever he was. He never ever stepped into Leicester. I always defended him by saying since he had come all the way from Nigeria, the least I could do was to get my butt off to London.

I was Suzy the Seductress the day Seun and I met up but Seun had become born again and was now a Pastor, well not really a Pastor but a counsellor in his church. I guess the Holy Spirit does reveal stuff because he saw through it all. ‘Gbekeleoluwa, why are you doing this?’, he asked as I flirtatiously flicked my Peruvian hair away from my eyes.

Earlier that day, I had tracked Dipo’s car. It was on its way to Akute and had just gone past Ojodu-Berger. I reminisced on how Dipo would complain and complain about the distance whenever I suggested that we visit my parents in Okota. The very same man was now making daily trips to Akute which is pretty much in Ogun state! That was what sealed my resolve to commit attempted cheating. I wore my hottest skinny jeans, a sheer top and my only Louboutins (yeah, I once caught Dipo admiring a girl in Loubs and thought to invest in the N100,000 red soles and nope, he never for once noticed them!). I applied my make up like I was going for a modeling competition, each lid was well mascara-ed, brows shapened and well highlighted, lips as red as scarlet, cheeks tinted with blush. I was well made up yet it was subtle and classy. I admired myself as I got into my car. I took a few selfies and uploaded one on my DP with a message that read, ” Off to have fun *wide grin* *dancing smiley* ” hoping to God Dipo would notice and ask where I was off to. Lord knows any form of love from him right then would have stopped me. Within 10 minutes of the drive from our Nicon Towers home to the restaurant off Bourdillon, I had received 11 BBMs, some admiring me, others asking where was off to. None was from Dipo.

Like I said, Seun saw through it all and refused to encourage or participate in my decision to commit adultery. He paid for the food and told me that for the sake of God and his love for Him, he had to leave. In his words, ‘Gbeke, I’m literally pulling a Joseph here. It’s either I flee now or I fall. I will be praying for you. Your home will be healed and you will laugh again. Don’t call on any man, call on Jesus. All things are possible’. He got up and walked away. There I was with more food than I could consume. I had no a appetite either. I watched as the waiter counted the 18 notes of N1000 asking if all is well. ‘Yes, I’m fine’ I replied. Another date gone bad, he must have thought. Little did he know. I took my bag and walked into my car, turned on the ignition and the AC. Using the Johnson baby wipes that is always in my car, I wiped off every trace of make up from off my face and drove home.

Today, as I write, I place a curse on everyone, who, knowing full well that a person is married, assists in any way, shape, form, manner, however grand or minute, in defiling the marriage bed and causing them to break their vows. May it never be well with them. May they suffer irreparable loss. May they ask and never receive. May they seek and not find. May they knock and may the door remain firmly shut against them. May their children suffer heartbreak. May the disease of the Egyptians fall on them. May the curses of Deuteronomy 28 from verse 15 to 68 be theirs. I also extend this prayer to everyone aiding and abetting them, to their friends who encourage or even condone such acts, who call you and another woman too ‘our wife’, like Dipo’s friend, Sanmi who hooked him up with his mistress. Sanmi, may you look for peace in your home and not find it. Sanmi, I pray that one day, you will find out that your 2 lovely boys belong to your driver and gateman respectively. Sanmi, as you have put asunder, may God close His ears to your cries and cover His eyes to your pains. Amen.

 *

Nkechi came visiting yesterday. I told her everything. Things I have not been able to voice out, even to myself. I spoke it all. She cried and then prayed with me and invited me to her church. Oh, did I mention that going to church has become a drag? Seeing couples holding hands in prayer of agreement and dancing together, laughing etc just makes me remember the void in my life then sickens me to my stomach. So gradually, I stopped going.

I have now decided to go along with her to her Church to pray for a change. I’m not going to hold my breath but I will try and believe that change will come. I will try to resurrect my dead marriage. I will try to bring back the love. I will return to God and ask that He saves me. I’m only 29 and already going through marital turmoil. It really is not a walk in the park.

I have taken time to report the situation because I was scared of baring it all. But I now know I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. I tried my best for my home. I did all in the books. I tried to be sexy for my man. By the way, I’m now a size 8 up and 10 down. I would cook and cook and do all I could. Today, it was lasagne, tomorrow it would be ofada rice and stew? Dinner was going to stay fun and unpredictable, I had vowed. On Sundays and Saturdays, it would be the full English breakfast or ‘akara’ made to perfection or the pancakes in the Roman fashion that Fadeke taught me. I was a perfect Hannah the Homemaker and Catherine the Cook. I was also Sasha the sexy fierce vixen in bed, contorting myself till my neck almost snapped. I did absolutely everything, I did all. All but one. I married the wrong man. I was using the right techniques on the wrong product. I went against all I knew was right. I married someone who valued neither my presence nor my absence. I didn’t marry my friend. I didn’t let God choose, I chose and forced Him to approve. I saw the signs before marriage and went ahead. Even after the marriage, I ‘worked’ at it, I never prayed about it. I thought I could make Dipo love me by the things I did. It never works. It’s never in you to make a person love you, never. I’m sure we ladies all have instances of that ‘pest’ who liked us no matter how much we insulted and ignored him. That just goes to show that love is not earned.

I have been listening to sermons on restoration. If all these happened during the courtship, I’d have left the relationship, but I am married now. So from all the counsel I have received, I now know God will have to turn my mess around. Marrying Dipo might not have been His perfect will. It might have been His permissive will but I am married and because God hates divorce (see Malachi 2:16), I will do what I can to invite Him into my home to fix my mess.

*

Watch out for the Part 4 and how things end…

Help! Her past haunts me!

Hi people,

I am distraught.

Broken!

So I recently found out the worst thing ever. My girlfriend (Similolu) of a few months whom I genuinely care for once dated my older brother!

She’s a sweet, decent girl or so I thought till I found out that my bad-boy brother had once been with her in her first year of Uni at Igbinedion University. He was also a student there after having left Unilag due to cultism issues. He had promised to renounce the secret society and in return, my dad sent him to the University in Edo to start afresh. She was a Level 1 student of Medicine when they met. He was already in his 3rd year of Economics by then. The Medicine department of the University had some challenges and therefore, Similolu had to go to a University in Ukraine to start her degree afresh.

I’m hurt because I have always loved God and put him first. I looked forward to a relationship with a like-minded girl and I thought I had found that in Simi. To think she once was was with my philandering, cheating , weed smoking, unserious brother is just a bit too much for me to bear. I love my brother to bits but the way he handles girls like things is absolutely appalling. He is known to treat women with disrespect. He uses and dumps them. He sleeps with them and then discards them right after. Simi once told me she went the farthest with a particular guy when she first got to Uni and to think that that ‘guy’ is Tunbosun, my older brother is really hard a pill for me to swallow.

I found out when she came to visit me at mine. My brother greeted her fondly, giving her a full bodied hug, lustfully admiring her telling her, ‘you’ve changed o’. She was awkward around him making me wonder what exactly ‘farthest I’ve gone’ entailed.

I know I sound judgmental, I also know I might not being doing What Jesus Would Do but I right now, I think I should just free her and let her go her way. I’m not looking for Miss Perfect but I don’t need someone whose sordid past is so close to home. I think I will constantly have the thought of them together in my head and it will lead to distrust of her, disrespect for her and eventually, contempt for her which will lead to me being repulsed by her.

Old things might be passed away but not when it was with my brother. I see the girls my brother has been with and I will not wish what they go through on my worst enemy’s sister. Imagining Similolu in those shoes just makes me mad…not at him but at her for having so low a self esteem to have dated Tunbosun, a self acclaimed and proud bad boy.

.

What are your thoughts on this guys? How would you feel if you found out that your boyfriend or girlfriend has once been with your promiscuous friend or your sibling? How would you as a person feel, realising you are in a relationship with your ex’s sibling or even relative? How does one deal with this?

Let’s muse!

Please guys don’t forget to vote for the Musings of a Caramel Latte Addict in the 2nd and last categories: http://nigerianblogawards.com/vote.php

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Temiville.xoxo

How could she?!

Segun had been on my case for at least 2 years.

I met him one hot Saturday as I was waiting for a taxi on Grogner Street in Iwaya, Onike. He pulled over and  asked where I was headed. I don’t ever talk to people on the road but this day, the look of the mist on the window of his air conditioned car made it difficult to ignore him given the extreme heat I was exposed to.

I stepped into his car, grateful for the ride, yet determined to let him know I was no cheap girl that jumps into available cars.

“Thank you so much, Sir, for the ride. I normally wouldn’t do this but I have been standing outside in the sun for at least 30 minutes. The cabs come in trickles and are either taken or too expensive. No one is interested in going my way”

“Where might that be?” He asked, totally ignoring every other thing I had said.

“I’m going to Ikota but I’ll drop off once we get to any major road where I can find a cab”.

“You’re in luck. I’m actually going to VGC but I need to get to Surulere first. So I can either drop you off at a taxi park or you accompany me to Surulere and then I drop you off at your doorstep.”

Inasmuch as I was so eager not to overuse help being rendered, I opted for the latter option. I was in no hurry whatsoever to go my empty home. Mom and dad were on their way to Ikene for a week long engagement and my younger siblings were all in school. My best friend, Mololu had kindly volunteered to spend the week with me but she would not be  getting to mine until Sunday night so that meant I’d be spending Saturday night by myself with only Larry, the dog and Mustafa, the gate man, for company.

I looked at my wristwatch, with its recently cracked screen and declared,

“Well, it’s just 1.00 and I’m not in a hurry so I’ll go with you”.

I got to meet him properly. His name is Segun, a businessman who was into the oil and gas sector. He had been working for himself in Libya before moving to Nigeria  earlier that year. The Nigerian side of his business was only just growing and was already facing major challenges but a meeting he had in Abuja two weeks from our meeting would determine if a major stumbling block would be removed and his license would be granted.  He saw an RCCG band on my wrist and asked me to pray along with him. I promised to.

As he dropped me off at about 4pm that Saturday evening, I felt like I knew him already. Segun was very chatty, divulging a lot so quickly. During those hours we spent together, I also found out that he has a 5 year old daughter by a white French girl he dated all through his university years in France. The lady had gone on to marry another Nigerian and they lived in Port Harcourt with his daughter, Amélie. His dad was long gone and his mom had raised him and his siblings by herself. I did what I do not ever do. I gave him my phone numbers and my pin and from there, we became friends.

The problem with Segun was with his way of showing concern and love. My primary love language is Quality Time and I’m not really the type to get all mushy too early. So it came as a bit of a rude shock to me when I received my first “love you baby”, 2 weeks from the day we met. I really didn’t know what to make of the message and it abruptly ended our chat as I did not respond. To be fair to him, I assumed he was simply overjoyed as he was granted all necessary permits we prayed for, that he spoke out of turn.

About four hours after, at 1 am, I got another message from him telling me how much he’s so into me and how he feels like he has finally found what he had been looking for and if I would be okay being a second mom to his daughter and how he wants me to meet his mom. I read it and responded with a “BRB”. Later in the day, we met up for a meal and then I explained how, though I appreciate his feelings, it was all too soon for me and I would appreciate if I am given a bit more time to be on that kind of level with him. In the meanwhile, I suggested that we remain friends. He looked a bit disappointed but accepted and declared that he was in no hurry and would wait for me however long it took me to realise my feelings for him or develop them.

Segun was extremely generous to me, almost worryingly so. Once he travelled and brought me an orange Hermès’ Birkin 40cm bag which retails for about $2000. I was shocked and despite loving nice stuff, I didn’t want to take it from him initially but I eventually did mentioning it to him that he really didn’t need to spend that much on me and he should focus more on growing his business.

Mololu usually saw one Harrods or Neiman Marcus shopping bag or the other and was always encouraging me to “stop fronting and say yes to Segun before a sharp girl does”. I guess because of the manner in which he approached me, it made me a bit overly cautious since this his asking out was more like a proposal and he seemed so sure of his feelings for me. I slowed things down a lot and outrightly refused to meet his mom for the first three months. I didn’t want to get carried away at all and kept praying and taking things slow. Despite our living so close to each other, I hardly went to his and since I come from a relatively strict home, his visits were sparing as well (of my doing).

About six months after we met, work commitments took him away from Nigeria for a long while. During that period, he would come to Nigeria at least once a month, bombarding me with all manners of gifts. Even when he was not around, he’d randomly have flowers delivered to my office.

He would send handwritten letters by DHL and whenever anyone was travelling to Nigeria, he would have them deliver something to me, however small. There was a time he sent me a bottle of Lucozade because I had lamented that the Nigerian one tasted different. When it came to giving, Segun was without fault. But in my opinion, there was more to consider than how generous a man is.

Sometime, five months ago, Mololu was sent to England for a training to last 3 weeks and she used the opportunity to shop and ended up having 2 extra boxes. She complained over the phone to me telling me the airline was overcharging her and then, partly because I felt it right to help and partly because I had ordered somethings which she was bringing for me, I decided to ask Segun if he could help out since I know he always travelled light and never uses the extra allowance granted to him. He accepted to help bring the extra boxes and I gave her his hotel address to drop them off a day before her flight. He was due in Nigeria a week and half after.

My suspicion was first roused when, upon his arrival, he took the bags to Mololu’s in Ogudu, instead of as I expected, bringing it to me and having us sort ourselves out. I asked for the favour. I mentioned to him that my stuff was included in the box so it came as a surprise to me when he drove all the way to hers the next day to drop the boxes off. When I asked him why he did that, he said the boxes were quite heavy and that he was going that way and decided to drop them off. I had more questions but felt since I was not his girlfriend, there is a limit to the questions I can pose without looking funny. My pride got in the way and I decided not to mention it anymore.

The calls reduced. The texts were shorter. The usual “love you” closing went missing. ‘Mololu too reduced her communication with me. Then one day, she drove to mine and after lunch asked the most random question, ‘Are you and Segun in a relationship?”. She looked like she had struggled to ask that question but at the same time,  as though that was her aim for coming to mine.

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing at all o. Just wondering ’cause you have known him for a while and you said you were praying a while back for direction and was wondering if maybe God said no since you are not dating him”, she mumbled.

“Omololu, did I say we are not dating?”

“Oh sorry. But I kinda know you are not”

At this stage, I know she and Segun must have spoken about our relationship status and so I decided to cut to the chase.

“Did Segun mention it to you himself?”

She looked down and playing with her perfectly manicured nails, said yes. I had noticed she brought a brand new car to mine with a new plate number. She had the black of my Hermes bag too. Wow! I didn’t want to believe what I know just had to be the truth. It was written all over her face. I don’t know where I got the strength but I said not a word after that. Awkwardly, she picked up her bag and car keys. I noticed then it was a Hyundai. It must be the Sonata she always wanted ever since it was released last year. She would always point at every 2011 Sonata she saw on the road and say she’d one day, get it.

To cut the very long tale short, my best friend Omololu and my 2 year old toaster are now together. Segun drove to mine 2 weeks after Omololu did and said somethings to me. He first of all apologised. He said he was not sorry for moving on but sorry that it had to be someone I knew simply because of the sake of his consideration of my feelings and not because it was wrong. He said, as I never for once, declared any form of feelings for him during our almost 2 year friendship, he does not feel he had wronged me in any way. He said he would always be grateful for meeting me as, through me, a door of everlasting joy had been opened to him and he would like my blessing as he walks into it. I was weak.

To be honest, I’m not hundred percent certain which hurts more, the fact that I’m losing a really nice and eligible suitor, that I lost him to a ‘friend’, the sneaky way it happened or the fact that I almost executed the deed for them by creating an enabling environment.

I really wanted to know how it all happened and so I demanded the tale, not from Mololu, but from Segun himself. He told me that the week before he travelled, when he saw her at mine, they had got talking whilst I was in the bathroom and she had mentioned she would be off on training and that she would be doing crazy shopping for her new apartment. They had a few ‘moments’ that day but they did not exchange numbers. It was the day she brought the bags to his hotel that the sparks went flying. She had gotten to his hotel at about 12 noon and they went to out together and he dropped her off at her hotel at about 9pm. Early the next morning,  at about 5 am, he drove down to her hotel to take her to the airport himself and from their journey, they got even closer. According to him, he knew that morning that he was ‘home’. That conversation sounded painfully familiar and I couldn’t help my grimace. At that juncture, I held up my hands and told him I was satisfied with the information he furnished and that they both have my blessing. He hugged me and left.

That evening, Omololu updated her status with these words “Those that wait on the Lord will rejoice. I rejoice. Behold, my Boaz!”. His picture was her DP. I remember that picture. I took it with his iPhone whilst trying out an app. Each day, a new picture of him would be put on display. There was even one of herself, Segun and his daughter. She had firmly ingrained herself in his life.

Due to how serious I know Segun is, it came as no shock to me when she told me they were getting married and she really wanted me to be her chief bridesmaid though if I felt I could not do it, she would understand. According to her, she was doing that for the friendship we once shared which she hoped we could revive. I refused. But not before letting her know that I could be counted on if she needed any assistance.

At about 12 midnight, I got this email from her,

“Sweetheart, I love you. God knows I do. I apologise for how I might have hurt you but despite all, I would be a liar to say I would or could elect to do things differently if given a second chance.

Oluwasegun has brought me the type of joy I thought was only for the fairy tales. But through him, I have my very own fairy tale. I love him with all my being. I know I might come across as insensitive and selfish. I am sorry. But please, try and find a place in your kind heart to let go of any hurt you might be experiencing and enter into a place of happiness for me, Omololu, your sister and best friend since our Corona days. It should not be heard that we are fighting over a man and remember, my darling, you never were in a relationship with Segun.

You never took the plunge, you shielded your heart from hurt and refused to commit to anything. I know you babes. When you truly love a man, you have no time for such long due diligence exercises. If you want to be sincere with yourself, you would admit that Segun never did anything to your heart. Your heart did not skip beats with the sound of his voice. Your body never quivered with the touch of his hands. I understand you two never even kissed. You clearly never felt love for him.

However, I cannot discount the friendship you shared. Till date, he still goes on and on about how you are the only friend whose loss moved him to his core. I can testify too of your level of regard of your friendship and respect for him. But my dear, friendship and respect are not solid foundation enough upon which to construct a marriage. You knew this and this is why you stalled. What did not grow in 2 years would most likely never grow.

I hope you understand that the aim of this email is not to throw in your face the fact that Oluwasegun and yourself never had anything concrete but to let you take a proper, honest and dispassionate look at goings on. If you do, forgiving me would come, naturally.

I can’t stop loving you dear. I am sad that the vow we made to each other 16 years ago to be each others’ maids of honour even if one got married first would not be fulfilled. Please, re-examine your heart and find a place in it to forgive me.

Yours now and always,

‘Mololu.”

The tears came pouring down. I couldn’t say exactly why and they were not asking. I felt sorry for myself. I felt sad because I really wasn’t crazy about Segun but we could have made it work, I guess. Omololu now was benefitting from all the prayers I invested in Segun, all the fasting. That, more than anything hurt me. I would have married Segun. I just needed him to pass one more test and voila, I’d have said yes to him. I never thought he’d stop loving me. I never though I’d lose him and certainly not to my friend, my supposed best friend.

***

I eventually decided to be her Chief Bridesmaid and muster strength to be happy for her. There was no faking the look of intense joy on her face when I told her I changed my mind. She jumped on me in her usual boisterous fashion, laughing and crying at the same time.

God has been helping me. It has been hard. Especially when I see the look on Segun’s face as he looks at her. He never looked at me that way, I must confess.

His business has been doing greatly and he is sparing nothing for his wedding. His daughter, upon Omololu’s request, will be both the little bride and the flower girl. Omololu’s nephew will be the ringbearer. Her Eli Saab dress is absolutely beautiful. Segun flew us both to England to get it. She asked for a size bigger and I suspect she is pregnant.

With each day, the feeling of hurt and betrayal gets slowly taken over by happiness for her and hope for my own future. I still haven’t met anyone worth reporting on and despite this, I have joy. Not happiness, but joy; joy that all will turn out well. But for now, I still can’t help from asking myself each time I look at Omololu, ‘How could she?!‘

***

Ok, MCLA readers, what are your views on this situation?

-Would you accuse Omololu of being a conniving, scheming friend? Or would you blame the writer for being a slow person who forgot that time waits for no man and who possibly had started taking Segun for granted? Or should we lay the blame at Segun’s feet, the slimy bastard who had the nerve to move from one girl to her best friend? Or is there really anyone to blame? Could it not be argued, and successfully too, that when love takes over, restraint is hard, if not impossible, to practise and maybe, as Omololu stated in her letter, Segun was never destined to be with her friend?

-Do you support long periods of ‘fronting’ or as some term it, due diligence/waiting on God’s approval? How long is too long for a girl to keep a guy hanging?

-Also, the issue is raised on the appropriateness or not of a guy coming on strong and speaking of marriage early on thereby making a girl overly careful and scared to say yes.

-I also see the matter of getting your friend close to your man or potential man. How close is too close? Was the writer silly in giving them that opportunity to start something or would it have happened anyway?

-There is also the issue of being a good nice girl who would not accept anything (gifts etc.) from a guy as you want to build things together and do not want to appear to be using him and then along comes ‘Sisi Nene’ who takes whatever she is offered, sometimes even demsnding,  and dude keeps loving her deeper and deeper.

These are a few of the issues I identified. Do you see more? What are your thoughts?

Muse with me!

Temiville.xoxo

What to do with the ball?

Yesterday Ola got rude to me. Well, not quite rude but he gave me one of these his famous frank responses that hurt to the marrow. Truth be told, I can’t stand his straightforwardness. He comes off as rude a lot of the time but I’ll keep quiet. No use ruffling feathers and waking the sleeping Rottweiler and to be honest, that’s just one of many issues I have with him. Ola is my boyfriend.

Last week, Enitan got engaged. The man of her dreams finally proposed to her. To be honest, only Enitan was amazed at the news. We all saw it coming. Her boyfriend, Moses (wow Lara, you need to get used to calling him her fiancé) had been the serious type from Day 1. He’s the exact type that seems to elude me, the type who wants to settle down forsaking all others. Enitan is my sister.

Enitan is my only sister but in between us are two boys, Olumide and Olufemi. So you can understand the little tinge of pain I felt when baby Enitan called me screaming/crying/hyperventilating over the phone that her boyfriend of 16 months proposed. I was glad for her but sad for me. Moses was 28 when they met and she was 22. But he was your very mature type of 28 year old male; the type whose maturity extends to his dressing. I hardly saw him in jeans and when I did, they were smart looking jeans. His idea of casual dressing was Chinos and Polos.

Enitan had always been the luckier one with guys. Though there is a 4 year gap between us, I had to admit that she had a way with men, they just couldn’t get over her. Of the two of us, I’m the prettier and more academically inclined but she is more street wise and discerning. All through our growing years till date, it was never unusual to find me, the elder sister, calling up Enitan for advice. Even our dad found in her a buddy. She was the stronger one and whilst I was daddy’s pet, she was daddy’s paddy. She and dad would discuss issues on politics, football, F1 etc. for hours. They would argue, fight, and laugh into the night sipping on Brandy while mom and I retired to bed. We were the girly girls who were more concerned with watching the Kardashians on E! than CNN.

Enitan was very firm with Moses from Day 1, firm but loving and kind. I admired their relationship and it was very clear who the stronger person was in it. After their 16 months together, Moses could now hardly make a decision without dialing Enitan’s number to seek her opinion.

6 months into Enitan and Moses’ relationship, I met Ola. Ola was 29 and was self employed. He was running a catering business. I found this weird at first but that was before seeing the passion with which he handled the business. It was his mom’s business before she passed on 3 years ago and ever since he completed his MBA, he totally immersed himself in the company and has single handedly worked on its expansion. Now, they operate in three states-Lagos, Abuja and Calabar.

I saw Ola as the ideal husband for me and would do all in my powers to make him happy. I took it as my assignment to ensure I keep him happy. My mom has always been the perfect wife to dad and I dreamed of being able to do all that for my own husband someday. I cook, clean, wash and even learned how to make Calabar dishes for him (His dad is Yoruba but his mom, who he was closer to, was from Calabar). Despite my efforts to please him, he ended up cheating on me…

Beeba, my cousin and best friend, thinks what transpired is not cheating. She says guys are really bad out there and I should be grateful for the kind of man I have. Then I ran what happened by Enitan who told me in her ever straight shooter fashion that it didn’t get any worse than that.

I found out Ola was ‘talking to’ another girl. Well, she was actually the one doing the talking but he was not exactly fighting her off. She was one of those extra wealthy girls whose fathers have a hand in almost everything going on in Lagos State. She obviously felt she has something to offer and it was painful to see that he was falling into her trap. I told him I wasn’t comfortable about the frequency of their communication. She calls him almost every day and they would exchange BB messages endlessly. His response to my concern was that she was merely a business contact and he was looking into securing some contracts through her dad and that it was high time I started seeing her as a sales lead and nothing else.

I went through their chats in his presence. Yes, he told her point blank that he is in a relationship. Yes, he told her he was happy in it (the useless girl actually asked). But how happy can you possibly be in your relationship if you always respond to her messages? I saw some chats timed at 1:05 am and he responded by 1:07am! Even if you are awake, it’s only decent to reply in the morning. I think.

It didn’t stop at this. The real thing that got me mad was that she invited him to an event hosted by her father’s friend at his residence. It was painful enough that he went with her as her date but even worse that he lied to me about where he was that day. I just didn’t have peace all through that evening and the next day I drove to his house. I saw a BBM that read thus,

‘Thanks so much for being my ‘date’. You looked really dapper in that suit. I know I kept on telling you but I just have to say it again. Btw, everyone says we’ll make a cute couple. I think so too. Goodnight hun. ‘BBM kissing smiley’

His response made me go red (yes, I literally went red as I’m very light skinned).

‘Lol @ making a good match. You’re very pretty so that cuteness will majorly be contributed by you. I had a great time too. Thanks for inviting me. ‘BBM hug smiley’.

I immediately confronted him and told him that it’s either he deletes her and stopped further communication or it’s over. Ola looked into my eyes and told me that if I’m not mature enough to see the whole thing as mere networking then maybe I’m not mature enough to be in a relationship with him. He said to me that I’m very insecure and the very thing that made him like me was my confident gait,  carriage and demeanor and that I was beginning to lose that and he’s not sure what to say about that because a confident woman is very essential to him.

He told me that at my age I should know that if he was intending to cheat on me, he would do it easily and I would never find out. When I asked him why he felt it right to lie to me about his whereabouts the night before, he claimed that it was because he knew the kind of woman he was with-the type who would never understand and would be unreasonable and ask him not to honour the invitation. I asked him why he didn’t accept and then offer to bring along his girlfriend. He said it was ‘bad for business.’ Bad for business?!!!

***

Enitan has come to her conclusion-let him be. But I guess that’s what would work for her. I love him but would be happier if he were more loving and less mechanical and brash. He says he can’t let go of friendships because of me and now I am being forced to humble myself and accept it when he picks her calls and BBM her in my presence!

Is this not akin to him selling himself? Is this not like some degree of prostitution where you lead someone on with the hope that you gain something from them because they think you are a potential? Is this not wrong? I’m really unhappy about this but I don’t know if it is enough to let go of him for. He says he still loves me and that the ball is in my court.

What do I do with this ball?

Putting her foot down!

Hey guys! How are you doing? I have a question to pose today and I need your candid opinion, as usual. Here goes…

A friend of mine got married in November last year. She has this amazing job that enables her work from home. That’s every homemaker/wife/career woman’s dream job. She has been given all the tools she needs and she need not step out of her house except for the day long meeting that holds every other week. Her husband, on the other hand, works on the Island and has to leave the house as early as 5 am everyday to go to work.

Two weeks ago, her husband mentioned to her that he would now be picking a colleague to work and bringing her back everyday because she lives just before the estate gate and so it was very convenient for them both. She didn’t think anything of it and thought, ‘sure, why not?’

She calls me on Friday afternoon going on and on about how she is going to stop him from picking her henceforth. I asked why and she told me that that morning, she had to attend an impromptu meeting with a client on the Island and her car had problems, so she went with him to work and together, they went to this his colleague’s house to pick her up. Lo and behold, she saw a slim, pretty, tall girl rush out with one button undone in error. She still had her bendy rollers in her hair and was wearing bathroom slippers with her office shoes in hand. She says this girl is the finest girl she has seen in a while and she could help feeling threatened and uneasy.

innocent young girl

Immediately, she felt offended by her husband for having not made it clear to her that this his colleague wasn’t just ‘any’ colleague but a very very attractive and single girl. I thought that was ridiculous but she insisted that had she known that that was how the girl looked, she would never have agreed to the plan. She had thought it was a woman in her 40s or so who was a happily married woman and he could see as an aunty figure. I told her that was no assurance of faithfulness or harmlessness but she insisted that this particular girl might make it hard for a person not to stray. She was that attractive. I then asked how the girl reacted to her and she confirmed that she was very polite to her and courteous too but weirdly that was all the more reason why she was uncomfortable.

To make her more worried, as they drove, her husband goes to her, ‘babe, I’m changing the station, Ayodele doesn’t miss her favorite gospel programme at 6am each morning’. At that point, she knew she had to do something. In her words, she knows her husband is a sucker for good girls and that he has a liking for respectful ones too and this girl was very respectful. In addition, she was tall and slim, just like her. Those are his things too. He is a good Christian but she insists that she will not ‘lead him into temptation’ and that their spending hours together and talking about work and all made her very uneasy. She also mentioned many times that her husband hangs out ‘with friends’ waiting for the Island traffic to die down after work and she shuddered at the thought of both of them hanging out so often. She intends to tell him this weekend to let her know that the arrangement can no longer continue from Monday. She has also stated that she doesn’t care if it’s obvious to all (including the girl in question) that she is the one that has stopped the transport arrangement.

My suspicious friend

What do you guys think? Put yourself in the following situations:

* As a girl, who is innocently seeking a cost effective way to go to work, would you accept to go to work with your newly married colleague or would you seek alternatives? If you had no ulterior motives whatsoever, how would you feel if you are stopped from accompanying him and you now had to go by public transport?

*As a newly married lady, would you feel comfortable if your husband picks up a hot girl to work each morning and takes her home each night and sometimes has to hang with her after work somewhere waiting for the traffic to die down? Even if the girl is ‘born again’, will you be able to handle it?

*And you, as a married man, would you suggest or accept to take a girl to work and back each day knowing she is your exact spec and you might be exposing yourself to temptation? Conversely, would you accept your wife’s words to stop taking this girl especially when you know there’s absolutely nothing going on and the girl is a nice and harmless girl? In fact, through her you get to listen to the Word every morning something you never used to do before and on Wednesdays, you go to Church for midweek service on the Island at her suggestion instead of hanging with colleagues doing nothing productive. How will you tell her you can’t take her anymore? Will you be able to go to work each day without her knowing she must be stranded or have to take BRT when taking her will really not hurt you in anyway?

Let’s discuss guys!

Temiville.xoxo

If you call it ‘settling’, then yes, I have settled

I’ll be getting married on the 3rd Saturday in May to a man I am not in love with.

***

An ideal romantic, I have always believed in love. I looked forward to being swept right off my feet by Prince Charming. I’m the type who would weep over a love tale well told and cheer as the couple in the movies kiss and live happily ever after.

Now, however, after a really bad relationship and 28 years in the bag, I have realised that that feeling of being in love is overrated and is the final and most negligible consideration in looking for a mate. Any guy I loved never loved me back to the degree I loved. They were bad guys, sharp guys that special kind of fine guys. It never lasted. Most relationships I have been in, I have been the 70% giver, while I’d make do with whatever measly 30% the other party offered now and then. I’d lap it up like a thirsty kitten, grateful for the occasional love thrown my way.

Bode was the worst of them all. Everyone warned me against him, even his sister who loved me as her own. I stayed with him for 26 months of my life and even when we split, it was he who did the breaking up. He had cheated and cheated, it got to the point that I was now grateful to be called or visited. I stopped checking his phones because I knew what exactly I would find there and I could not bear the pain anymore. I would complain and scream and he will get mad at me for snooping on him and eventually, I would be the one apologising for not ‘trusting him enough’.

I would purpose in my heart to break up with him but find myself staying on the minute I heard his voice and he talked that talk to me. He turned me into a shadow of myself. I became a crazed out girl keeping tabs on his every move. I’d go out weekends with him just to ensure he does not hook up with any other girl. I’d randomly show up at his because I heard a lady’s voice in the background when I called. Eventually, he did the breaking up himself telling me he doesn’t deserve me. I never thought I’d beg a guy to stay with me but I did. I begged Bode, told him I wasn’t complaining. I even told him that I understood that because we are age mates he might feel the need to spread his tentacles and that I would patiently wait for him to outgrow his ways. He passed on my offer.

***

I’ll be getting married to Tayo. Tayo is born again. He doesn’t have the ready sweet words to speak. He doesn’t dress so nicely. He doesn’t get me or keep me excited. But in him, I’ve found peace and joy. Tayo would leave whatever he is doing if I need his help. He would ALWAYS drive down to the airport to pick me up when I come visiting him in Abuja. It would have been more convenient for him to have me take a cab. The day he offered to do that, I was surprised. Bode would NEVER do that. At his kindest, he’ll ask his driver to come get me. He’ll probably simply ask me to get a cab and he’ll pay. Tayo would never sleep until he has spoken with me, prayed with me and wished me a good night. With Bode, I’d be the one calling and calling.

Tayo has showed me that it is possible to have a good guy, a guy who cherishes and respects you and most importantly, loves God and puts Him first. His level of consideration towards me still baffles me. I never knew such was possible and this is why I shied away from a relationship with him initially.  It all seemed too good to be true. But it has been 11 months of courtship and he has remained the same steadfast, loving, caring man I first met.

As I walk down the aisle, I am sure my belly will not have butterflies in them but I’d walk down confident of the fact that I am placing my life in the hands of a good man. A man who takes instructions from God and passes them on to the home with love. A man who values family and togetherness and would put me before anything and anyone else. A man with whom I am sure I play second fiddle to no one but God. A man who would be a good role model to our children. A man who would stand by me no matter what happens in the home.

My mom has assured me that the sweeping love will come once the sex begins. Apparently, once you start sleeping with a man, the love grows. I look forward to it. But right now, I’m in a happy, content place.

I might not be with the handsome charmer I longed for as a young teenager. He might not have the best physique in the world. He might not have funny things to say to me all the time. He might not be able to make my heart do somersaults. He might not have the latest clothes and shoes nor know the latest slangs young peoples say. He might not understand my love for E! news and Yoruba movies. But of this I am sure:

I am with the man God selected, handpicked for me. I’m with a man with whom I feel safe, secure, looked after, cared for, pampered. I’m always relaxed. I don’t have to check his phones or wonder who he is speaking with. My heart doesn’t have to skip beats when he is not with me. I don’t have to call him 10 times before I get one call back from him. I’m not pressured to do anything ungodly instead I am challenged to draw closer to God and know Him more that I might be a deserving wife to the man God designed for me and that I may bring him as much joy and bliss as he does me. If you call this settling then yes, this girl HAS settled.

Regards,

Folu…

***

I’m not saying this writer is right and has selected wisely but Tayo clearly seems like a better choice than Bode. Many times, we ladies prioritise the wrong things. We place the cart before the horse. We look first for butterfly feelings and put that feeling of security, warmth and peace aside. We put God second and put feelings first. We dismiss a good guy for a fun guy. We dismiss the voice of wisdom, that small still voice telling us not to go ahead, or even to slow down. We damn the consequences and end up getting burnt. I pray God leads us and that we follow His leading. Amen.

Love,

Temiville.xoxo