Life With Tutu

Two can play, is a saying that kept playing on in my mind. No guy will cheat me and get away with it. I did some investigative journalism and a few weeks later , I was kneeling very coyly in front of Ibrahim’s father. I was dressed in a shapeless, full length gown( specially bought for the occasion) plus a hijab, both in dark brown colours. With the Muslim praying beads, clasped firmly in my hands,  I had to admit to myself that I looked nothing like myself! The transformation was total. No make up, no perfume. I was auditioning for the role of a wife, and I was determined to look the part. I explained to the old man that I was Ibrahim's fiancée, that he had promised me marriage on the conditionality of pregnancy. I was pregnant and he had refused both me and the baby. I lied smoothly that I had even agreed to change from my religion to Islam and I had started attending Jumat! Hehehe. I was amazed at my performance that sunny afternoon. Honestly ,I would have won an Oscar! Anyway

Ibrahim would flirt with anything in skirts. No one was sacred to him. At a stage, friends started warning me about his exploits, but I wouldn’t listen. I was too much in love and too determined to get married to him, to listen. Yes, my dream man had issues, who doesn’t? It was when I caught him in bed with my friend, my supposed bestie that I really, really felt let down. And I started asking myself, if it and he, was worth it. Whilst I was still contemplating pulling out, I discovered  that I was already pregnant. There could be no going back for me. I told him, I was pregnant and he laughed. ‘ So, why are you telling me?’ For the first time in my very adult life, I was speechlessly speechless ‘ It’s our baby, your child, our love child, I’m carrying' I managed to stutter He laughed even harder, if I were light skinned, one would have seen me blushing furiously in embarrassment and anger. ‘ Iquo, we never talked marriage. I’m not ready to settle, not now when there are sti

I was at a friend’s mother's birthday party. Around nine pm, we the youths moved away for our own after party, at a hall a little away from the venue of the birthday party. I felt stuffed and I wasn’t inclined to dance, after having consumed two packs of small chops,a generously ladled plate of fried rice, moi moi and a bottle of wine( I’ve always been a hearty eater, especially when the food is free!). Quite a number of us were dancing, this I observed whilst lazily sprawling on the sofa. And then , I saw him. A tall, very good looking guy dancing energetically and very skillfully. I stared and stared and stared. I told myself  ‘Iquo, you must get this guy!’ I managed to get across to our friend the daughter of the celebrant to ask for his name ‘ Oh, that’s Ibrahim' she replied carelessly as she took a swig of the bottle of Hennessey( which was more than half way gone) that appeared to be glued to her hand. She looked tipsy and as I didn’t want vomitus on my expensive and

We are at the altar. Ibrahim, the groom keeps sniveling. I look at him with thinly veiled contempt. I do not know why some guys are absent a back bone! The deed is done, why wallow in self pity? ‘ Your tears cannot save you now' I whisper, while I’m beaming from ear to ear. The priest looks at the downcast eyes of my groom and the way he reluctantly, very reluctantly repeats the vows. I smile reassuringly at the Priest. He nods uncertainly as we finish with the oath taking. ‘ May I announce to you, the latest couple in town, Mr. and Mrs. Ogunkoya!’ Our families and friends scream ‘ Praise the Lord' and ‘ Alhamdulillah' almost simultaneously. My husband’s family is Muslim while I am from a Christian home. The reception is over and done with and we, the latest couple retire to our hotel. My hubby sits on the bed dejectedly, silent sobs wracking his frame. I hiss, and quickly undress. I study my baby bump. The wedding gown had belts at the back to make it firm around my f

It’s my wedding day. I am being worked on by a Cosmetologist. My face aches slightly from the rubbing and massaging. But I’m calm, very calm. I’ve waited all my life for this day. My dream come true. My friends are busy fetching and carrying. There are about four of them in my room. My room is thoroughly but happily disorganized. The important thing is, I got what I wanted, how I wanted it. The Cosmetologist is  finally through. I look at least a decade younger. I keep smiling at my reflection, my friends are all over me, ‘ oohing' and ‘ ahing'. Suddenly another friend bursts in ‘ Iquo, Ibrahim is crying ooo. His groom’s men have placated him to no avail.’ I look at her, disinterestedly. I could not be bothered. I know why my would be groom is crying. Cannot be helped. You cannot have all you want. Life is like a game. You play to win, but sometimes you lose. All ten eyes are fixed on me, expecting a reaction. Concern, anguish, worry? I stare right back at them, insoucia

My secretary led me to the bed and we both sat down. She held my hands in her hands and started speaking to me in her soft, gentle tone ‘ The grass always looks greener on the other side, but it rarely is. You must never entertain regret that you married your wife. She was the best for you, five years ago and she is still the best for you. Some years down the line, you’ll be grateful I had this discussion with you. I will come see your wife and we’ll have a little chat. I promise , I will personally come assist with cleaning your house, this Saturday. I promise you, you’ll see a major change' I could only nod my head silently, as my eyes were full of tears. True to her promise, my secretary came to my house. What she discussed with my wife, I will never know, but I started seeing marked improvements. My secretary swept , scrubbed the house. She brought out the urine soaked chairs and mattresses to air outside. She told me I would need to change the furniture later, as soon a

I wasn’t looking forward to going home anymore. We had three year old twins plus a one year old baby at this time. The disorganized setting of the house made me unhappy and most un-eager to go home. I took to hanging out with friends, and after a while just staying back in the office with my secretary. I guess you’re thinking, so that’s it, he hooks up with his secretary! Naaa, you’re wrong. I cannot cheat. She was just my confidant, she and I would talk for hours, after closing. We enjoyed each other’s company. She was easy to talk to . One night ,she couldn’t get a cab, I was half way home when she called that she was stranded. This was around nine pm. I had to take a detour to pick her up. She insisted I enter her apartment, and, I did. It was as if, I had entered the seventh Heaven of Delightsomeness! The house was so spick and span. On point! I was awed This is my kind of person! She told me to look around while she made a hot cup of cocoa. I didn’t need a second invita

Between the Sheets 1 I am predominantly phlegmatic. I love to keep to myself, a lot. I finished from the university and got employed by a conglomerate. To a reasonable extent I could fend for myself. I didn’t want to be a player, still waters run deep and I am still. I fear God and didn’t want to sleep around. So I sought a wife that would be a companion, a helpmeet, a confidant and of course someone I was attracted to. I met her during one of the church services. Sweet, pretty and she looked very neat and dressed carefully I consider myself a good judge of character, a gentleman to the core and a very sensitive, understanding guy. I do hope I am not blowing my own trumpet. But when I say I’m a decent guy, I mean by all reasonable standards, that I am a decent guy. I open car doors and other doors politely for women, I’m a good listener and I am teachable To crown it all up, I am a natty dresser. Clothes sit so well on my six foot frame. Every lady’s dream,even if, I do say so

Help! Concluding part I wish I had the ability to have done a forecast of my marriage. I wouldn’t be the destabilized man I am now. Yes, my wife got pregnant and she started having mood swings, mood swings so terrible in intensity, I became worried and afraid. And then it started…. And then it got worse….. We were sleeping together on the bed when she complained that I was taking up too much space. In my mind I was like ‘ untop a 12 by 12 bed?’. A bed that can conveniently take six people without physical contact? I thought she was joking until she started pushing me and eventually succeeded in pushing me off the bed, into the floor. I bruised my head and I got so upset, and  understandably, I demanded in a furious tone as to how she could be so cruel… Instead of apologizing, she gave me a slap. I saw , stars, literally. Another  slap landed, and another and yet, another. I was shocked, I have never hit a woman. I eschew violence in any form and so I couldn’t bring myself to