Life With Tutu

I think it is intrinsic in human nature to be discontent, at least at some point. We crave for something or a particular height, we get it or get there and briefly feel fulfilled, but then the demon of discontentment comes knocking at the door of our heart, a new yearning comes up. The yearnings are never, ever ending. It is in a continuum. Maybe I should have tried to take my heart away from being discontent. Maybe I should have tried to make myself happier. It is too late for the maybe(s), now.  Life as a mother and wife became somewhat harrowing. I craved excitement. I started going to nightclubs, at least once in a week. I had a capable nanny and my sons were safe in her care. I wasn’t stupid, I knew getting Chief as a husband was no mean feat. I knew I had to guard my marriage and all the perks that went with the office. I just wanted to drink, relax, dance, watch others dance and come home. But, I would be lying if I said I didn’t crave for the blood of a young , virile man. Yes,

  I learnt early that you could use what you  have to get what you want. I think it was my first lesson learnt. I gained admission to the higher institution and got friendly with ladies who further expounded on the theory to me. I didn’t need to study too hard as my assets were put to good use. I was through with school and I had made up my mind, I wouldn’t settle down with a ‘ Surulere' man. I wanted someone who was rich, very rich. Why marry a poor man with whom you’d have to struggle with, huffing and panting by a kerosene stove, staying up till late at night wondering how to stretch limited resources to cover living expenses in a month? God forbid. Me, baby girl for life! I wanted the easy life and I was determined as determined can be to get it, at all costs. So I spread my nets and caught a big fish. I caught Chief. A man already married.  Chief’s wife was old and couldn’t proffer the pleasures, my slim and nubile body could. I had also along the years armed myself with an in