Life With Tutu

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride... that was me. A girl full of hope, clutching to promises like lifelines, believing that a better life was just beyond the dusty path that led from my village. My uncle had said he would take care of me, send me to school, make me somebody. But reality was nothing like the dreams I had allowed myself to indulge in, in my young mind.   My days blurred into an endless grind. Sometimes my uncle’s wife would place hot bowls on a wide tray balanced on my head, beans pudding, corn pudding, things I had never dreamed I’d be selling on streets. The weight pressed down on my neck and my skull like punishment. I was still a child, scrawny, underfed, invisible, but I had no choice, no voice, no say. My pain meant nothing to anyone.   At night, when the house was quiet, I would cry into my thin pillow, careful not to let the sobs escape my throat. This was not the life I was promised. This was not the story I was told when he came smili...

 Bittersweet 4 Yes, I was finally at my uncle’s  place. The place I thought would be my salvation. Fate dealt me the cruellest card. My uncle and family lived in a face-me-I-face-you house, built by him. I stayed in a room with some other cousins I met there. I was 12 but due to the ill treatment and malnourishment, I had suffered at the hands of my mother,  I looked like an 8 year old. I was only ever given leftovers to eat, after they had had their fill, my mother and sister. Truly I was treated no better than a stray dog. I was dropped off by my mom with disdain, in the evening. We had taken the first bolekaja(a bus made of wood) leaving the village to the town where my uncle resided.  My uncle was a headmaster in a local school but he had a large farm and was into animal husbandry. I remember my mother telling my uncle’s wife that I was evil and nothing good would come out of me. I can never forget those cruel words, ever. Food did not appear to be a problem at m...

The session was great to say the least. His warm brown eyes took me in, empathetic, quietly absorbing and I found myself wanting to drown in them forever My whole life story poured out. I was the first girl child that had survived, three had been lost as still births. One would have thought that since I had survived, the very first child to have lived, I would have been much loved, but, the reverse was the case. My mother took one look at my brown wrinkled face and decided I wasn’t to be the recipient of her affections, simply because I looked like her wicked mother in law, who was then deceased. I suffered many things because of my resemblance to my father’s mother. I could recall when I had issues with bedwetting. Mother would beat me severely but I noticed she went easy on my younger sister. Once, she put my school uniform under my mat and I urinated on it. She forced me to wear it to school. Oh how ashamed and embarrassed I was. The other kids ran after me mocking me calling me a b...

I knew I was going crazy. I could not afford to go crazy. I would lose clients and money, lots of it. As an interior decorator, a lot depends on being sane, clear and logical. I had to pull myself together as I made a decision. I had to see a shrink. I had no choice now. I went on line and made enquiries and I was able to get  one, an elderly male. I wanted someone who had seen life in all its ramifications. Our first appointment was on a Saturday morning. I woke up early, expectant and a little gay. I felt the weight of my grief would find relief that day. I showered quickly and threw on a gown, used a little lipstick and eyed myself critically in the mirror. I had lost a ton of weigh these past few weeks, but a little more make up would hide the hollows. I set to work and an hour later, I looked just fine I got a taxi which took me to the expansive office of the shrink on the island.  The office was a serene haven, designed to ease the mind and invite reflection. The room wa...

 It’s raining. It never stops raining here. Day and night it pours. Maybe it’s the seven day rain, it’s been on for only God knows how long.  In my mood, the cozy atmosphere of my sitting room which usually made me feel cheery, did nothing for me now Right from the feature soft, pastel colors like blush pink or lavender, with touches of gold or silver accents for elegance. Comfortable yet stylish furniture such as a plush sofa or chaise lounge adorned with decorative throw pillows complemented by a cozy rug and tasteful artwork on the walls. The  small bookshelf holding a collection of romantic novels, the scented diffuser with its hint of fragrance to the room. The indoor plants with its creation of a serene and inviting atmosphere, all did nothing for me. Rather, it all weighed down on me. The cold weather matches my mood. Cold, slushy and muddy. My heart is cold. Feels like ice is lodged right in the centre of it and me. I had cried myself to sleep, the night afore. I ...

Femi was at Wale's bedside the following day. She watched the rise and fall of his chest in bemusement. Funny how some cling to life with tenacity. Refusing to let go of what can not be held to. Whilst others pray for death, others struggle to be parted from it in an exercise in futility. Femi played the dotting wife even as she looked at her husband broodingly. She was tired of the hospital visits and wished him gone now more than ever before. Their business was finished. She could not continue wasting her time and energy on a betrayer, a back stabber and an ingrate. Another week passed and one sunny afternoon, for the first time after the accident, he opened his eyes. They were all alone in the room and she was about dozing off when intuition made her look his way. He looked bewildered and then fearful as he set his eyes on her, she looked at him unfazed, somehow she knew he wanted to tell her something. Somehow, she knew he would pass away in a few minutes. He struggled to s...