Life With Tutu

  With the relief I felt at my first session, wild horses wouldn’t keep me away from subsequent sessions We had sessions once in two weeks and I started getting to like Dele, a while lot more. She was kind, patient, open to ideas and very understanding. We became good friends and something more over the course of three months. The something more, resulted in her getting pregnant. My first reaction was fear and despair. I couldn’t divorce my wife, I had been brought up with a strict moral code: once married, forever married and I didn’t want any child of mine, born out of wedlock. I knew it would be futile to suggest termination. She was well over forty, this was her first pregnancy and she was delighted. How to tell Fiona, or not to tell? I knew she would raise the roof. If you have an abhorrence for any outburst of whatever kind like me, you would dread any of my wife’s outbursts. They came like a tornado and left me drained with a big headache. I wanted to avoid it at all costs. I we

 I left the resort, lighter at heart, refreshed and with a change in my mindset. I had made up my mind, I would not allow my circumstances, no matter how bad to control me. My children may have decided to ruin their lives, but it would not make me ruin mine via depression. I immersed myself into work. I would get back home very late at night. Have a shower and get into bed. Thankfully I and Wifey had agreed earlier on in our marriage on the need to have some space, so I had my own room, free of any bedroom chatter as it were. Dumebi got rusticated yet again and my little bubble of happiness, turned bitter. I had to escape from the house for my own sanity. I knew I was beginning to lose it. I checked into the resort again. But even there, the release I needed wouldn’t come. I was becoming an emotional wreck. I knew I needed help, fast. The owner of the resort was my saviour during this dark era. She was intuitive and noticed I had become a recluse, so unlike me. Slowly with some relucta

Since Dumebi had proven to be a disappointment, I pinned all my hopes on my daughter Ifeanyi. I told myself she would bring honour and pride to the family name. I was so protective of her and her grades were good. She was the picture of excellence until I started seeing some funny traits in her when she was in boarding house. I knew I hadn’t raised the angel I had hoped for when she was suspended in secondary school for prostituting in a nearby brothel. I felt my world collapsing. My hope, my joy lost! I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her. Her mother said she merely experimenting! I was aghast! I just had to leave the house. I knew if I stayed I would commit murder. I travelled to a resort in the East and tried to mend my broken heart. ‘Where did I go wrong?’ was the question I kept asking myself. Two kids apparently intent on the path of destruction. I had been a model son, straight A's and all. Courteous, the epitome of goodness and refinement mixed with good breeding.  I looke

My first son arrived a year afterwards. I was ecstatic! He was my look a like. I had prayed that none of the kids would take after Freda. I didn’t want short children, that was why. The naming ceremony was lavish. People came from far and near to serenade baby Dumebi. My parents were so proud and happy they invited all their friends and acquaintances. I never got tired of kissing his pink toes and hands. I loved watching him squeal in laughter especially when I tickled him. He was my dream come through. My continuity,my hope and joy. Two years later we had a daughter. I was overjoyed. All was well with my world. Things were going on smoothly in business and I had never been happier. Fifteen years later, Dumebi got admitted to read Mechanical engineering  in one of the universities in Nigeria. I had wanted him to study in my alma mata but his mother was insistent he study in Nigeria. She hated flying and did not want to have to go by air to check up on him in Aberdeen. Mother and son bo