Fiction

Lipstick Stain 4

Lipstick Stain – Part 1

Lipstick Stain – Part 2

Lipstick Stain – Part 3


Part 4


6lack – Stan

Ringing.
Loudly. All I could hear was a ringing sound.
It was like someone slapped me blind and I was dazed.
I didn’t hear the last few words that came out of Lolade’s mouth as I turned to Lade who was struggling to sit up.
I stared for a few moments.
There were definitely words to be said and I wanted to blurt them out but somehow I couldn’t.
My eyes began to well and I think I was finally at my breaking point. I finally choked it out

“Lade *voice trembles*…please tell me she is lying”

She didn’t answer.
She looked down and away from me.
The anger inside me swole and I yelled out

“Lade! tell me she is fucking lying”

Her mom jumped in and said

“No! She is not lying.”

I turned to her and said

“Mummy, with all due respect, stay out of this!!!”

She stepped forward and said

“No! I will not allow you to speak to my daughter that way.
She made some mistakes but yelling at her is not the answer”

“Yelling???
Between her getting shot and not even knowing what was going on, I find out that I could have been a father and I am supposed to speak calmly.
Are you kidding me?”

Before her mother could respond, Lade jumped in and said

“Akin, you have every right to be angry but just let me explain, it is not what it seems”

I scoffed and said

“I’m listening”

She said,

“Two months ago, I got set of pictures and videos from the night of your bachelor party.
It basically showed you having what appeared to be a good time and then in one of the videos, it showed one of the strippers leading you into a private room.
And when you emerged, then were lipstick stains on your shirt.
A shirt that never made it home… the message also said that you had sex with one of the women”

She continued

“I was so hurt and I made the mistake of seeking revenge instead of asking you.
So I hit up an ex boyfriend of mine who I knew was having a party one weekend and I went. I honestly don’t remember what happened but the next day I woke up in his bed with him next to me, completely naked.
I swear Akin, I didn’t sleep with him.
I checked everything and I even asked him later. He said he did not know but I was sure nothing went inside me that night.

So when I found out that I was pregnant, you can imagine my confusion. Everything within me felt like it was yours..ours…but I had to be sure.
I told my mom and I was going to tell you but I wanted to be sure it was ours.
But before I could even do that, I was getting blackmailed.
They were asking for N3 million. I didn’t know what to do and I did not want to freak my mom or anyone else out, so I went to this snake Lolade.
She promised to help me find the person but quickly turned and started telling me to go and give them the money”

I turned to Lolade who was almost walking through the closed door.
if she could run, she would have.
Lade, slightly emboldened, continued to speak

“Lade must have seen it as an opportunity to cash in. Because suddenly, she was talking about being the liaison between me and the blackmailer.
At first, I thought nothing about it but then…”

There was a knock on the door.
All our heads turned to the door.

…..

The two policemen that interrogated me a few days before walked in.
The sergeant spoke first, I had learned his name was Mr. Adedigba

“Hopefully we are not interrupting anything. We just have a few questions for you ma”

You could pick up the strong old Oyo accent as he directed his gaze towards Lade.

I jumped in and said

“Right now?
She is still recovering”

He smiled and snakily replied

“And you think the person that shot her is still recovering?”

He had a point, if it was Lolade or someone else, the longer it took to catch them, the more time they had to get away with it.
He looked at Lade and asked

“Madam, do you remember anything from the day you got shot? What do you remember about that day, did you get a look at the person?”

Before he finished his question, I interrupted and said

“Officers, my wife said that this woman here is the reason she got shot. This is your suspect here”

I pointed at a now flustered Lolade.

He looked at Lolade and then at Lade before saying

“Madam is this true?”

Lade shook her head to my surprise and said

“Yes and no.
I believe that she may have something to do with it but she was not the one that shot me”

Lolade appeared to heave a sigh of relief.
The sergeant turned to Lolade and said

“Is this true?
Did you have something to do with the shooting?”

She stood straight and said with confidence

“Officer, I had nothing to do with it.
I don’t own a gun or talk less know how to use one. I didn’t do anything. She even told you that I wasn’t there.
It’s not me sir”

The sergeant sensing that he wasn’t going to get a straight answer in that moment said

“Well, my aim is to get to the bottom of this situation as soon as possible.
Madam, I am going to need you to come down to the station with us”

Lolade was terrified.
She wanted to run but knew that would be unwise.
And almost as if the universe was singing her name, there was a quick knock on the door and it opened.

It was the doctor.
He looked surprised that the room was packed, but his immediate concern was Lade.
he quickly said

“Lade, you should be resting. Please lay down.”

He stood next to her and said

“Can everyone please exit the room and give us some privacy please?”

We all began to shuffle out and he said to me

“Not you Akin”

Everyone else waited outside the room.
I stopped as the door closed and the doctor said

“There is something important that I need to talk to both of you about”

I walked to Lade’s side and held her left hand.
She squeezed my hand as he began to speak.

“One thing I didn’t get to tell you the last time Akin because you were around people is that we are super pleased Lade survived that horrible experience.
But I think the two of you are going to need each other more than ever.
Two of the bullets punctured Lade’s womb and it may make it almost impossible for her to have children on her own.”

My soul was crushed.
Lade squeezed my hand really tightly as she burst out into tears.
She kept saying

“Akin, I’m sorry. I am so sorry”

My heart was broken but watching her in tears was breaking me further.
I leaned in and said through my tears

“It’s okay baby. We will get through it together”

The doctor said

“You both know that we will be with you through everything. Anything you need”

He got up and walked out.

I was instantly filled with rage. My heart had taken enough.
I got up and stormed out of the room into the hallway. Lade tried to hold me but I broke free. I swung the door open and I said to the sergeant

“Don’t believe anything she says. Search her and her place.
She is involved!”

My face was soaked in tears and holding pain as the sergeant asked Lolade to open her purse.
She quickly opened it without any fear.

“There you go”

she said

He put his hand into the bag and moved it around.
Suddenly he stopped, he looked up and around to all of us before pulling out my gun.

I have never seen Lolade appear so small before.
She immediately said

‘That is not mine”

The second officer said

“Madam, you can explain how an attempted murder weapon ended up in your bag at the station.”

He grabbed her by the arm and walked her out.
Lade’s mom was speechless and I re-entered the room.
The rest of the evening, I climbed into the bed and laid next to Lade holding her.
We were going to get through it.
No doubt.

She finally fell asleep. I turned and kissed her on the forehead as I held back my own tears.

…..

~New series next Saturday? 20 comments and we have a deal~

…..

I turned around the corner and walked into the bedroom.
I handed Lade a cup of tea and leaned in to kiss her.
She giggled and said

“Stop itttttt”

with that beautiful smile across her face.

Her phone buzzed and she reached for it.
She used her right thumb to unlock the phone before saying

“Awww, they said Lolade got stabbed twice”

I was actually taken aback. We hadn’t heard anything about Lolade and anyone from that phase in a long time.
I asked

“Did she survive?”

Lade said

“Obviously”

I shook my head and said

“That’s sad”

Lade smiled and said

“Akin, you still never told me how that gun made it into Lolade’s purse”

I smiled and said

“I had nothing to do with it. Just like I know you know nothing about this stabbing”

Lade smiled and shook her head. She placed her phone down and said

“One day you are going to tell me what really happened.”

I chimed back

“One day”

She motioned to me and I came to sit next to her.
She turned, looked into my eyes and said

“I love you Akin, my King”

I smiled and said

“I love you too my Queen”

as I leaned in to kiss her.

We both looked up as she said

“Hi guys! Welcome to OUR channel”

she glanced at me as she said it.
Then she made me turn my head as she wiped off a Lipstick Stain from my lip.

She turned back to the camera and said

“Hey all, if you didn’t watch my last video about our gender reveal, click on the icon on your screen right now…
but to our repeat viewers and subscribers, thanks for coming with us on this journey.
As some of you may know, I was told I may never be able to carry my own children and in two months, we are expecting triplets!
Who would have thought it right?
We guess God has a sense of humor but we are so glad we get to share this experience with you.
But I could never have done this without my superman husband. So thank you babe”

She smiled and looked at me
I smiled back while resisting the urge to kiss her.
Lade continued and said

“So guys, we are doing an incoming baby tag, things we want our children to take or not take from either of us.
Babe wanna go first?”

She turned to me and I said

“The main thing I don’t want my children to take from my wife is her snoring. She snores for Africa.
It’s like grunting pigs”

She punched me in my arm and said

“Akin what the heck man!”

I smiled back and rubbed her swollen belly.
We were about to become a family and in that moment, everything else felt like a blur.

The End.


HOW WAS THE LIPSTICK STAIN SERIES FOR YOU? WHAT DID YOU FEEL? DO YOU HATE ME YET?
It was an honor writing it for you all. I am glad you enjoyed it!

~New series next Saturday? 20 comments and we have a deal~

Follow @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#SanmiSaturdays

© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · African · African Fiction · Art · Bloggers · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Poetry · Sex · Stories · TheRants · TheRantsShow

Lipstick Stain 3


Lipstick Stain – Part 1

Lipstick Stain – Part 2


Part 3

Picking up myself from the hospital floor was so hard. I was in so much pain that I didn’t even go back into the room to check on her before I left.
My heart was hurting and my mind was racing.
How could she do this to me?
Why didn’t she tell me?
I could not fathom how she could be carrying our joy and not tell me.
How could other people have known about it without me knowing?

There was so much running through my mind. Everything I thought about her, I would feel a pain in my heart.
I never got to meet the little one. Always dreamt of having my own son.
Being Arsenal fanatics. Teaching him perseverance by supporting one of the most disappointing teams in sports history or just watching him become his own man.
I also dreamt of having a daughter, helping her find her voice in this misogynistic world, owning her black girl magic and me trying to style her hair because I got the juice like that.
But I was never going to know what that felt like. At least, I felt like I missed out.
Almost like you waited in your home all day for a delivery only to come out and see a missed delivery notice.
It sucks.

I cried the whole way home. I didn’t even let “D” come with me.
I felt truly alone and I just wanted to be alone.
As I pulled into the estate, I didn’t even greet the guards at the main gate. I tried to avoid eye contact.
A part of me was very annoyed with them as well.
How did someone bypass them, shoot my wife and none of them knew?
Idiots.

As I parked the car, I felt like something was off.
How much of it was paranoia of the last few days? I couldn’t tell.
But as I approached the main door, it appeared to have been tampered with.
There were scratches around the keyhole and it appeared someone may have tried to kick the door.
My rage boiled over, I hopped into the car and drove straight to the main gate.
As I pulled up I parked to the right side of the gate, the one not used on a daily basis and I stormed out.
The first words that left my mouth were

“Sunday, where your oga day?”

He looked taken aback.
It could have been the tone in my voice or how I was marching towards him.

“Oga wetin happen?”

Was his nervous reply.
I looked him in the face and said in an irate manner

“Person come my house, shoot my wife. Una idiots no hear anything.
Now person come try break into my house again and no security. Wetin be una job again?
Why we dey pay you?
I swear to God wey create all of us. If anything like this happen again, na me go wound una.
Walahi!”

I didn’t even give them a chance to respond as I stormed back to my car.
I got in and drove out of the estate.
My heart was racing and it felt like misplaced anger but it also felt extremely necessary.
Like damn it! Why was everything in my life so misplaced?

I couldn’t think and I just kept driving.
I did not realize how far I had gone until I pulled into the coffee shop – Cafe Neo.
Before I could tell, I was waiting in line to order.
I took a seat while they made my drink. I wanted to cry some more but a part of me just wanted to be held.
The last few days had felt like a bad dream and I wanted someone to hold me by my shoulders, shake me and tell me that I’ve been dreaming all along.
But it didn’t seem likely at all.

I got my drink and I walked out of the coffee shop.
As I was stepping out, my phone buzzed.
Reaching for it, I moved my cup into my left hand and picked up my phone.
As I answered, the person on the phone said

“Akin, long time. How’s that coffee?
Before you start trying to figure out who I am, I just want you to know something.
Do as I say and everything will be fine…”

I was frozen but my eyes were scanning the parking lot and the side of the road. I was sure the person was looking at me but I couldn’t tell where.
I turned around to look and the voice on the phone continued

“5 million in cash or the next time, your wife won’t survive”

I asked in fear

“Who are you?”

The person chuckled and said

“I know you and right now, that is all that matters…”

……

I hadn’t driven that fast in a long time and trust Lekki traffic, I was stuck.
I immediately called the doctor and said

“Doctor, please make sure someone is there to look after my wife”

Startled he replied

“Akin, I just checked on her less than an hour ago”

I wasn’t having it

“Please put someone with her, I will be there as soon as possible”

Now more concerned he said

“Is everything okay?
I mean her mother is here, I can have her sit with your wife if you like”

I said

“I don’t care, just make sure someone is with her.”

He said okay and I continued to sit there in traffic super annoyed.
At one point, I considered abandoning my car and taking an Okada.
So many questions filled my head

“Who could it be?
Were they following me?
How did they know about Lade?”

Those thoughts sailed through my head and I changed my course as soon as I got the chance to.
I couldn’t be sure if the person was following me.
About 30 minutes later, I made it to the hospital.

Rushing into the room, all I wanted to see was if Lade was doing okay.
She seemed to be asleep.
I greeted her mother reluctantly as I was still very angry about the baby.
I turned around and left the room, Lade’s mother followed me closely.

“Akin duro, je kin ba e soro”
(Akin, wait up, let me talk to you)

I turned around as she held my hand and pulled me to the side.
She fixed her glasses and said

“You are my son and a child cannot remain angry with their parent forever.
I know you are upset and to ba je emi ni (if it was me), I would be upset too.
But I want you to know that we did not keep any of this from you as a secret.
By my understanding, your birthday is on Thursday and Lade was planning to surprise you.
She found out two months ago and felt it would be a great birthday surprise gift for you.
Ma binu oko mi (don’t be angry my son)”

I tell you this now, the way she spoke to me was very reminiscent of some deep talks I had with my mother growing up.
Something about it really spoke to me.
It was like she could see that I was trying to hold the anger and she continued

“Ma binu.
Lade needs you more than ever right now. All of this does not make sense but God is in control.
You are the head of this family and God will do another for you two but right now, you need to be a rock”

I nodded as she reached up to hug me.
I wiped off the tears streaming down my face as she rubbed my back.

She said,

“It has been a rough couple of days, you need to eat and go home to get some rest.”

I shook my head and said

“I can’t leave her. I have to be there when she wakes up”

She smiled and said

“Well before you came, the doctor said they will keep her induced for another 2 days to make sure everything is okay.
I am sure you can get some rest.
I will stay and her father will come and join me later tonight. “

Reluctantly, I agreed.
She then said

“I have asked my cook to make you some food.
She will be here any moment, go home and get some rest”

I wanted to tell her about the call I got but I also can confidently tell you that an African mother is the last person you want to tell that a hit has been put out on her daughter.
So I said

“The only way I can leave is if you can guarantee that someone will be with her at all times”

She nodded and said

“I will not leave her side.
The driver and the cook are outside, come let us go and put the food in your car quickly”

We walked out into the lobby and outside to the car.
The driver immediately stepped out and the cook was in the passenger’s seat.
Someone else was in the back but I couldn’t see till I got closer. The back door opened on the owner’s corner and it was Lade’s cousin, Lolade.
She stepped out and walked around the car.
Lade’s mom’s face lit up and she said

“Ah Lola, Iwo ni. (Oh Lola, it is you)
How are you my dear?”

She knelt and greeted her aunty before I gave her a hug.
She said

“Yes ma.
I had stopped by to drop something my mom wanted to give you and I heard about what happened to Lade, so I wanted to come and check on her.
Akin, how are you holding up?

Has she woken up?”

I forced a smile and said

“Trying love. Just staying positive. No, she is still under. ”

She nodded and said

“It is well.”

I told her the room number while I collected the food from the cook.
I walked over to my car parked on the other side of the lot and opened up the trunk with the remote.
As I lowered the cooler into the trunk, I noticed something out the corner of my eye.
Tucked away in the left side of the trunk, it was staring at me.
My gun.

I was shocked.
How did it get there? I thought to myself.
I quickly turned around to make sure that nobody saw it.
I noticed Lade’s mom walking towards me as she gave instructions to the cook.

“Akin, there should be efo, obe ata ati rice.
Ila alasepo naa wa n be”
(There should be spinach stew, pepper stew with rice and okra)

She said as she walked towards me.
I said

“Thank you mummy”

And quickly closed the trunk.
My heart was racing and I was feeling exposed.
Someone was clearly trying to set me up.

….

We walked back into the hospital and Lade’s mom took her seat next to her.
I was going to leave but I wanted to also make sure that Lolade knew the importance of keeping an eye on her.
Lolade and Lade were born in the same month and their mothers are sisters, so they gave them similar names and raised them together.
You couldn’t separate them growing up until they went to college in different countries and even then, they still remained very close.

As we stepped into the hallway I said

“Lolade someone called me today and asked for 5 million or they would try to hurt Lade again
I need you to please keep a close eye on her and anyone that comes into the room.
I am going to try and get the money today”

She replied with shock

“Wait, seriously?
You are going to get the money today? From where?”

I replied

“I don’t know but I have to. Nothing can happen to Lade”

She responded

“Well nothing will happen to her here.
But don’t worry, I will watch her”

I added

“Also, her parents cannot know. Only you know right now”

She nodded.
We walked back into the room and we were met with elation.
Lade’s mom was standing and quietly motioning us forward.
She was waking up!

As we approached, I stood by her side and held her right hand.
There was a huge smile on my face.
As she smacked her lips and blinked her eyes, she looked at me and smiled.
She looked to the side and saw her mom.
There was a quick frown, almost one of confusion. I think it was then she realized she was in a hospital bed.
She opened her eyes and looked at me closely. I was still smiling and I am sure I was almost crying.
She lifted her hand as if she wanted us to remove the air mask.
I lifted it off her mouth and she swallowed hard before asking

“Where am I?”

I replied and said

“Baby don’t worry about that. We are just glad you are okay”

Before I could continue, I noticed Lolade was walking out of the room.
Lade’s mom said

“Lolade, please help us get the doctor”

Those words were like missiles because instantly, I felt Lade squeeze my hand tightly and say

“What is she doing here?”

Not reading anything into it, I rubbed her hand and said

“Babe, that’s your cousin Lolade”

She tilted her head forward and said

“I know. But what is she doing here?”

The mood in the room quickly changed.
Lolade’s mom and I looked at each other, very confused.
We looked over to Lolade and then to Lade, she looked angry.
I said

“Lade, what is going on?
That’s your cousin. Are you okay?”

Her voice was still weak but her angst was strong.
She said

“Why is she here?
She is the reason I am here”

Lade’s mom gasped and I turned my gaze to Lolade standing by the door.
Her look had changed and she had a scowl on her face.
Her next words were

“You better fucking relax Akin.
Out here trying to play Superman for this one. When the baby wasn’t even yours”


Also, please check out my midweek post “Take Me To Church“.
Huge thank you to everyone leaving comments and sharing the series with their friends! I appreciate it all.


LEAVE ME A COMMENT ABOUT HOW YOU FEELING OR WHAT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT THIS PART. 

~The explosive Part 4 drops next Saturday! Do not miss it~

Follow @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#SanmiSaturdays

© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WordsofWednesday · Poetry

Take Me To Church

#WordsOfWednesday

Take Me To Church

“Offering Time!”

“Blessing Investment time”

“Offering Time”

“Blessing Investment time”

Deacon Ade reads the world famous Malachi 3:10. So predictable.
I reach for my offering inside the left breast pocket of my Asos jacket without looking. Muscle memory.
That’s how my existence with the church is now.
Not what I am getting or gaining from it now but what I learned as a child and my days at Redeemer’s High School. Think Philippians 4:13.

My relationship with the church is not symbiotic (denoting a mutually beneficial relationship between different people or groups).
It feels very one-sided. But to which side does the current flow?
There is a disconnect.

Growing up a Pastor’s kid exposed me to much of the insights and inner workings of the church.
I saw the politics, the hypocrisy and the far removed behaviors of the people of God.
Sometimes knowing too much is a curse.
I soon became jaded. Unable to tolerate the glaring flaws of the church and its people.
I saw them for who they really were, who we really are. A bunch of liars and hypocrites all trying to figure it out.
Convenient Christians.

I hear more about tithes than I hear about love and spiritual growth.
Everything is tied to the money.
Don’t get me wrong, pay your tithes. If you are lucky to attend a transparent church, you’ll most likely see the tangible benefits of your tithing.
But why do churches make themselves seem so thirsty for the money?
I watch my Pastor every week and sometimes I don’t think he realizes it. How slowly, he gets sucked into speaking about tithes during every sermon.
He wants to rally the troops to do the right thing, but inadvertently, he turns away folks who want more than “make your check out to RCCG Solomon’s Porch”

It almost feels like the eyes of the world are open but the sacred lair of the church remains impenetrable.
The misogyny is toxic and choking. Almost every conversation or teaching reeks of it and saddens me a great deal.
From teachings like “there is no such thing as marital rape” to the debilitating pressure placed on women to seek marriage. It is too much.
I find myself in a state of rage in a place that should foster peace and safety.
Women are told what to wear while men are free to do as they please.
We have a lady in the choir. Beautiful and extremely talented. Making her an easy target for the “older women of God”
Let me not forget to mention that she is well endowed all over her body. Curves to match her talent.
If it’s not forcing her to wear a robe, it’s pulling her off the altar in the middle of ministering because they feel like her body will tempt the men.
Or the absurdity of a recent incident when they made her go into the bathroom to prove to them that she was wearing panties.
Are we serious?
In 2018? People of God!
That would be fine if the rules were fair but in that same congregation, there are men that are committing adultery and stepping outside their marital homes, but who pulls them off the altar?
Who checks their withered penises to make sure they are not having sex?
Nobody.
Because the church doesn’t want to move forward and see women as free and equal.

Let’s not get into how the church is always screaming for young adults to get married but doing a poor job in preparing them.
Nothing on money management, counseling, patience, and family planning – but every Sunday it’s “we are waiting to come and eat rice”
Rada Rada!’’

The church is not all lost.
It is still a place of true fellowship and in some places, it is a safe haven but the church right now is losing its people.
People are disconnected.
We need a recharge.

This is my 200th post on my blog. Thank you to every single person that has supported me. I appreciate you.
God will never forget you and anything you do will prosper.

Thank you!

~ The Wordsmith

 

Thanks for reading as always! And don’t forget Part 3 of Lipstick Stain is coming on Saturday!

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

 

#WhatTheHeckMan · 6lack · African · African Fiction · African Stories · Art · Bloggers · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Sex · Stories · TheRantsShow

Lipstick Stain 2


Hey there! If this is your first exposure to my series Lipstick Stain, you definitely need Part 1. Read it by clicking here. Enjoy and we’ll see you back! 🤗


Part 2

My hands were shaking.
My throat became very dry. I could not believe my eyes.
She was just laying there.
Lifeless.

I couldn’t think of what to do next. It’s like I was shaking in place and frozen at the same time.
I wanted to move but I couldn’t.
Trust me, it is nothing like in the movies. There was no dramatic music or some crazy rush of blood within me.
I just stood there.
Slowly, I began to come to myself. All of this must have been four to five minutes but it literally felt like a decade.
I suddenly got the urge to sit down on the bathroom floor. My eyes continuing to scan the room.
I began to think,

“What happened last night?
Did we get into that big of a fight?
….why would I shoot my wife?”

I was playing her last words in my head. I started to cry.
The tears slowly rolling down my cheeks.
It was really starting to hit me now.
Lade was gone.
And so was my gun.
Oh shit, my gun!

I wanted to call the police. But I felt like I needed to make sense of everything.
So I ran back to the living room and grabbed my phone.
And dialed my best friend Desmond’s number. He picked up on the second ring.
I lifted the phone to my left ear and said

“D – something crazy just happened.
Come to my house right now”

Concerned, he replied

“Guy you good?
Wetin happen?”

I smelled hard and said

“D – abeg get here asap. I need you”

Even more concerned, he replied

“Aight bet. I’m on my way”

I lowered my phone and immediately lifted it up to call the police.
As I began dialing, the unexpected happened.
Lade muttered something

“Akin, help me”

I was so shocked, I didn’t realize the call had gone through.
I quickly canceled it and ran to her.
I knelt down by her side and said

“Babe, are you okay?”
Can you hear me?????

….Baby, I’m here. Stay with me… Help is coming”

She was trying to tell me something.

“Lade, don’t say anything.. I am getting help”

I quickly grabbed my phone and called our hospital.

“Hello, this is Mr. Olaoluwa, I need an ambulance to 56 Hopeville Crescent, Nikon Estate.
Please hurry, my wife has been badly wounded”

Yes, I didn’t mention how she was wounded because let’s not forget that we were dealing with the Nigerian Police force.
I had to control the narrative.
I sat there with my wife until the ambulance came. I was holding her hand until they rushed in and grabbed her.
As they placed her on the gurney and moved her to the back of the ambulance, I wanted to climb in. They told me not to.
Instead, I was asked to meet them at the hospital.

Distraught, I rushed into the house to change my clothes and grab my car keys.
As I made it into my room, I heard Desmond’s voice call out.

“Akins (my nickname) where you dey?”

“I dey room, my brother”

He rushed over and opened the door.
He started saying

“Guy, you good? You got me hella worried…”

His sentence trailed off when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the blood in the bathroom and the blood-soaked carpet with my footprints.
His face was washed with a mixture of concern and fear as he said

“Akin, what happened?”

I kicked off my shoes and without looking up, I replied

“I’ll explain in the car”

…..

“Guy, that’s what happened…
..I still can’t even explain it”

I concluded the story as Desmond drove us to the hospital.
I continued

“Like, all I remember is that I went to the Nkwobi joint and I got a few drinks and I headed home. I don’t even remember doing anything else.
I at least remember laying on the couch but that is about it honestly.
Like everything feels like a dream bro, a very bad dream.”

I paused, then I said

“…bro, I legit thought she was dead yo. Like I don’t even know man”

Without taking his gaze away from the road, Desmond said

“This is crazy bro. I don’t even know what to say.
Like why would anyone want to hurt Lade? Or you guys?
This shit doesn’t make any fucking sense”

I just shook my head in response, I was still looking for words.
We pulled into the hospital and made our way into the lobby.

The receptionist asked

“How may I help you?”

I replied

“My name is Mr OlaOluwa, my wife was just rushed in a little while ago”

She looked down at her computer and said

“May I see some identification, please?”

I tapped my pocket instantly to pull my wallet and I remembered I had left it in the car.

“Oh it’s in the…”

Before I could finish my sentence, the door opened and our private doctor, Dr. Mensah walked in.
He said

“Stella, let him through.”

She smiled sheepishly as I approached the doctor.
He shook my hand and continued

“She is in surgery already.
The surgeons are hopeful but it’s tricky. She had lost a lot of blood before she made it here.
What really happened?… Come over this way, let’s talk in my office”

He motioned to Desmond and I.
As we walked to his office, I spoke

“I met her like that this morning doc. I myself don’t even know what happened.
I slept on the sofa.
But I don’t know, I would have heard if someone had come in while I was sleeping and I remember locking the door. I don’t even know”

We sat down as the doctor was exploring the options with us when we heard a knock on the door.
He replied and said

“Come in, please”

The door opened and three policemen let themselves in.
One that appeared to be senior spoke first and said

“We are here to see Mr. Olaoluwa.”

I turned and said

“Yes, that’s me”

He continued and said

“My name is Sergeant Dosunmu from Area 14 Jakande police station. We have some questions regarding the shooting of your wife.
We will like you to come down to our station for some questions and to give a statement”

I didn’t even argue, although Desmond was about to.
I thanked the doctor and said

“Doc, thank you for your help. Please keep me posted.
D- abeg call my lawyer. Tell him to meet me there”

….

The ride to the police station was weird.
I wasn’t nervous because I hadn’t done anything, I think I was concerned because, like I mentioned before, this was the Nigerian police.
The whole thing could have gone in many different directions.
I just kept thinking about Lade.

As we sat down in the interrogation room, the sergeant first started speaking to me.
He said

“Sir, tell us what really happened”

I sat up and I said

“I woke up this morning and I noticed my wife in a pool of her own blood.
That is all I remember”

The sergeant and the other policeman in the room looked at each other and said

“That is all you remember?
Don’t you live in the same house with your wife?
Did somebody come into your house and shoot her without your knowledge?

Sir, tell us the truth. What really happened?”

Slightly annoyed and confused, I responded

“What do you mean?
I just told you everything”

The second officer came closer to the table and said

“If you tell us the truth, we can help you. That is why we are here.
The police is your friend”

I scoffed and said

“I told you everything. Why would I want to kill my wife?”

The sergeant replied

“Maybe you were cheating on her?
You know how you young men in Lagos are. You cannot stay in one place and keep it in your pants.
Or maybe you fought each other? Or maybe she was the one sleeping around?”

I growled at that statement and postured forward.
Instantly he said

“Calm down jare, we are just doing our job”

I took a deep breath and said

“Look, gentlemen, I love my wife. I was not cheating on my wife. We just got married six months ago for crying out loud.
We love each other and we go through things like any couple but why would I want her dead?
Besides if I shot her, wouldn’t I have left her to die instead of calling for help?

We had a small fight yesterday but it was over nothing serious. At least not serious enough to shoot somebody”

The second officer, I never quite got his name, pounced on my last statement but laughed first and said

“So you and your wife fought?!
Why did you fight? Money?
You cheated? IDP go tell you, people for this Lagos dey marry and cheat o. ”

I was about to answer when the door opened.
My lawyer, Mr. Ezebuike walked in.
He didn’t make eye contact with me but he said

“Unless my client is under arrest for something, we are leaving”

The sergeant said

“No he is not. He was just telling us how he shot his wife over money.
How much was the money? Let us see your account.”

My lawyer chuckled and said

“By himself, he is worth over 100 million naira. Not even including what his family owns and what he stands to inherit when his father passes.
Gentlemen, I trust you are doing your job but my client is not a suspect, so we are leaving now.
If you need access to the residence or anything else, please feel free to call me anytime.”

He motioned to me and I stood up.
We walked out of the station.

As we walked towards his car, he did not say anything.
Once we got to the car. He placed his hands on the hood and looked at me.
He said

“I am going to ask you two questions. I trust you will be completely honest with me”

I nodded and he said

“How are you and did you shoot your wife?”

I looked at him square in the face and said

“I am still in shock and no, I did not shoot my wife”

He didn’t say anything else as he lowered himself into his car, then he spoke and said

“We need to figure out who did”

…..

Pulling into the hospital, the sun was beginning to set.
I was still able to spot some familiar cars as I made it in.

As my lawyer and I walked into the lobby, Desmond and some notable faces were there.
Lade’s parents were there along with her younger sister and half-sister.
I approached them and greeted them.
I did not get the slightest sense they thought I would harm their daughter whom they knew I loved so much.

“Akin, how are you holding up?”

Lade’s father asked me

“Chief, I honestly don’t know. This is all still a shock to me.
It feels like a dream”

He placed his hand on my shoulder and said

“All will be well.”

That was him in a nutshell. He was never too flustered.
I liked that about him and hoped to be like that one day.

I can’t remember what was being said when the doctor and someone who appeared to be a surgeon walked out.
We had been sitting there for about 3 hours.

He approached me and said

“Sir, can we speak to you in private please?”

I stood up and said

“It’s okay, these are her parents and siblings. You can tell us what is going on”

The surgeon spoke and said

“Thankfully, we were able to retrieve the bullet fragments lodged inside her.
She is stable although in an induced coma. We expect her to recover. She is very lucky to be alive at all. Especially with the amount of blood she lost and how long she was there.
We also have to check for brain damage due to the lack of oxygen to the brain that may have occurred while she was laying there.
Like I said, she is medically stable and we hope for the best.
But sir, she lost the baby.”

White noise.
All I could hear was air. Like air pressure in a plane.
I sunk to my knees. My eyes welled with tears and I coughed up the words. I asked

“She was pregnant?”

Her mom, hysterical and in tears jumped in and grabbed me to hold me up, while she said to the doctors

“He didn’t know yet”

I looked up to her. My eyes filled with tears as I wailed and said

“You knew?”

She nodded sheepishly.
My heart completely shattered.

LEAVE ME A COMMENT ABOUT HOW YOU FEELING OR WHAT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT THIS PART. 

~Part 3 drops next Saturday! Do not miss it~

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Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#SanmiSaturdays

© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · 6lack · African · African Fiction · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Nigerian Writers · Sex · Stories

Lipstick Stain

Part 1

6lack – Unfair

Somehow I could feel myself on the brink of consciousness.
I was a teenager trying to sneak back into the house after a promiscuous night.
I wanted more – sleep.
It felt like if I continued to hear my surroundings, I would lose out on that beauty sleep.
It had been a while since I properly slept. Weeks almost, actually, maybe even months.
And here I was enjoying this day in my 1000 thread count sheets and I was waking up.
I laid there with my eyes trying to adjust to the brightness that enveloped the room through the high windows.

Turning to the left on my side of the bed which was closer to the wall, I stretched out.
As I finished yawning, I looked to the foot of the table and I was met with a glare.

“Shush”

She said.
I smirked back and blew her an apologetic kiss before falling back into the bed.
My eyes were glued to the ceiling and for a quick moment, it felt like what I had always dreamt off.
The woman of my dreams in our home that we built together and filled with love.
I smiled and closed my eyes.
I was about to fall asleep again.

The last words I heard were

“Hi guys! Welcome to my channel…”

I smiled and my eyes closed.

…..

When I reopened my eyes, it was almost evening time.
The room smelled like fresh stew, so I assumed Lade had cooked.
A part of me was excited to eat but as I got up. She looked at me and said

“Oh thank God, you finally decided to wake up… we are going to be late, you need to start getting ready”

I reached over with my left hand and grabbed my phone. It was 4:37pm.
I had been sleeping for 6 hours.

“Babe, why didn’t you wake me?”

I whined.
She smiled and replied as she applied her concealer over her dark spots

“Akin, you needed to sleep. So I let you sleep.
Now you need to get up and get ready, so we can leave because I do not want us to be late”

I heard the reasoning in her voice but I wanted to fight it.

So I said

“But do I really have to go?”

My eyes caught hers as those final words left my mouth.
She launched that famous glare at me again and said

“Don’t even start with me tonight. You know this is important to me.
So please get up and get dressed.
Your suit is hanging in the closet and there is some rice in the microwave. Oya stand up”

Grumpily, I forced myself up and walked to the kitchen. Somehow I allowed the entire Saturday to pass me by.
I am not sure if I was really upset about going out with her as much as I was upset by the fact that I was missing Premier League games.
I was going to need to let it go though.
After all, this was a big night for my wife of 6 months.
She was nominated for the Future Awards Africa under the New Media category and I was so proud of her.
So as much as I couldn’t stand the paparazzi and just being outdoors, I decided to go with her.

The rice was so spicy but so delicious.
I kept drinking water to quell my burning taste buds, these Yoruba women.
Less than an hour later, we were out the door.

The night was typical. Red carpet, some small talk with some industry folks and then quickly the spotlight was firmly set on her as it should.
I found my way to the bar and got a drink before making it to our seat.
It actually was a decent night, now that I think about it.
But it got drastically different when my wife won.
When her name was called, I couldn’t believe it.
You never really do. As a supporter of a loved one, I think you always temper your expectations in the event that the other shoe drops.
Both of you can’t be blindsided.
I remember her “thank you” speech like it was five minutes ago.
She thanked God, her family, team, friends but not me.
I honestly didn’t think too much about it because I assumed that me being directly in front of her, made it easy to forget me.

…..

As we pulled up to the celebration dinner after the show, I noticed that she still had her drink in the door of the car.

“You’re supposed to have finished drinking that already?”

I whined.
She smiled, picked up the bottle and downed what was left of it. I knew it was going to be a good night.
We walked into the venue and I suggested that we grab drinks before the show started.
We snuck into the connected bar and sat by the bar.

I asked the bartender to surprise me with my drink and I think she ordered a Red Bull.
We took our drinks and headed into the main auditorium, the show was about to start.
As we approached the door, we got stopped and took some pictures.

I could tell how beautiful she looked by the stank eyes most of the men flashed at me. She kept beaming that smile behind me and I was all here for it.
We sat right next to each other but I turned her seat, so her back was to me? and we faced the stage.
The entire show, bar when she was on her phone, my hands were on her bum.
I couldn’t wait for us to get out of there.

The show was fun. Lots of laughs, improv nights were always my favorite.
We walked out talking about threesomes – we had seen a lady with a beautiful butt. So beautiful.
I can’t remember who suggested it but we ended up at a club, a few drinks and fist pumping, I was ready to go. I had wanted to jump her bones since she was putting her makeup on at home.

We made it to the car and I couldn’t wait to get us home. She was playing music and we were having a great time in the car and then she asked

“How far away from the house are we?”

I nonchalantly replied

“About 5 minutes”

I smiled and once we hit a red light, I leaned over and kissed her.
Then I slid my right hand up her skirt. She couldn’t concentrate.
Her legs started shaking and her breathing short. I slid her panties to the side and began rubbing her clit.
She was squirming while I was trying to keep the car steady.
What the fuck?
I could feel the chills rising up her back. I wanted to devour but we were almost home.
I remember veering out of my lane and the car beeping to alert me.
I was alert alright, her pink was ready for a beating.
To cap it off, I removed my hand, looked at her and licked her juices off my fingers.

As we pulled in the parking lot, I quickly parked.
I could hear Lil Wayne’s verse on The Motto playing in the background as I reclined her seat.
I leaned in as if I was about to kiss her. She was wrong.
I reached up her skirt and pulled her panties down.
Kissed her on the forehead and hopped out of the car.
She was soooooooo angry!
Like wtf?!

As she got closer, she realized I was holding her panties to my nose.
We entered the house and she sat down on the couch, I made her a drink and pulled down her pants.
I was ready to go.

Her moans were my favorite part. Her hands rubbing through my hair as she cursed and told me

“This is the best head ever”

My inner freak smiled.
I stroked and slurped down her pink, soaking my beard and her dripping on to my leather couch.
I wanted to be deep in her pink and in her guts.
She tried to fight it but wasn’t very successful.
She pushed me off and I walked her back to the room.

I climbed on the bed and she planted her dripping pussy on my face before leaning forward and taking in my throbbing member – 69.
It was wet on both ends of the coast as we feasted on each other.
I pushed her off as I was about to cum, there was a full length mirror at the foot of our bed, I caught a glimpse of myself.
As I laid down, I spread her legs wide, lowered my member into her and started slow.
Cupping her head in my hands and protecting it from the head board, I thrust in and out.
The pace picked up and my profanity did as well.
I gripped on her thighs as the depths my member plunged into got deeper and deeper.
I could see the love and lust in her eyes.
I was pounding it like candied yams and loving it.

I flipped her over – her pink was pulsing. It was ready.
She arched her back and tooted her cake towards me. I licked my lips as I slid in.
I could still feel how wet my balls were as they slammed into her clit.
I grabbed the shit out of her waist and I went to work. It was as if we hadn’t seen each other in 3 months.
I kept at it and so did she, throwing it back like a third draft of a senior thesis.

I could feel myself welling up and getting ready to explode.
So she wrapped her legs around my butt.
I was leaning all the way into her, she was almost falling off the bed as I pounded her pleading pussy.
I wanted it. More of it.
All of it.
I didn’t stop.
She wouldn’t let me stop.
Just as she thought was about to let go, she looked back, damn near from the floor and yelled

“Fill me up”

Boom.
I let go and pumped her full of my heated relatives.
We lay there for a few minutes as I curled up next to her panting for air.
She turned over and said

“Where are my panties?”

I smiled and said

“You’re never getting them back”

…..

“Hey Akin, did you move the money from the First bank account?”

I didn’t turn my head but I answered

“yeah. I moved it to the UBA.
Why?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed as she said

“Why?
I was going to use it”

Her words weren’t aligning with me. I turned my head to her and with a concerned look, I said

“Use it?

What do you mean ‘use it’?
What were you going to use 3 million for?”

She snapped back

“Why are you questioning me?”

Now I was even more concerned because I wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from.
I looked at her closely and said

“Why am I questioning you about OUR money?
I’m so confused right now”

She didn’t reply and she stormed out of the room.
We had enough, money that is. In different accounts in Nigeria and even in the US and UK, so I wasn’t sure why she was upset and why she thought it was okay to spend that much money without me knowing or signing off on it.
I went back to watching the Sunday night preview of the upcoming soccer games.
A few minutes later, she stormed back in and said

“If this was for you and your boys to go and buy bottles at Quilox, you won’t be asking me who’s money it is o.
Now you are asking me stupid questions. Or if it was to go and flash it for small Lagos girls or Unilag girls, you won’t remember it’s OUR money then”

Something struck a nerve. And I was about to go off.

“Lade, what are you fucking talking about right now?
What is wrong with you? Can I just watch my games in peace?
Don’t you have something else to do.”

She looked dressed to go out but it appeared the situation had her reconsidering.
She walked up to my face as I sat on the couch and snapped the remote control. In one motion, the television was off.
I took a deep breath and I asked again,

“Lade what is all this?”

She replied

“You are a useless man with no backbone and you think you can walk all over me because you are a man”

None of this was making sense to me. So I said

“Please stop.”

It was like “stop” replaced the effect of “calm down” . She went off and began yelling at the top of her lungs.

“Stop what, stop what! You must let me say what I need to say”

I knew my wife and this conversation was only going down hill.
So I walked to the dining table, snatched my keys and I left my house. I first picked up my friend Dare in Ikoyi before we headed to Surulere.
The evening got better.
We talked and compared marriages notes while watching the games.

By the time the games were over, it was already 2am.
I don’t even remember how I got home but I did. I knew she was in the bedroom, so I went straight to the couch and I just slumped into it. She was probably still mad at me anyways, best option was to just avoid her.
The five or six bottles of Orijin I had plus what we smoked had me feeling pretty good.
I kicked off my shoes and that was the last I remembered.

The next morning, I woke up at about 7am.
Sluggishly, I walked into our bedroom. It was really quiet, I figured that she had left before I got up.
I took my clothes off and pulled my towel off the rack as I walked into the bathroom.
Stark naked, what my eyes saw felt like something out of a Game of Thrones scene.
There was blood everywhere and my wife’s lifeless body in the tub.
I was standing in it with my bare toes. I was in such shock, I couldn’t think but I noticed shell casing right outside the tub.
My mind began to race, I immediately connected one dot.
I turned and headed back into the room, bloodied feet and all. I bent down next to my side of the bed and pulled out a lock box.
My hands were shaking as I opened it up.
My gun was missing.

I knew I was completely fucked.

Glad to be back and writing again!
This series is going to be a lot of fun. I promise you. Please leave me a comment and share how you felt this part. Means a lot. Thanks!

 

PLEASE COMMENT. 

~Part 2 drops next Saturday! Do not miss it~

Follow @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#SanmiSaturdays

© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday

Are You Giving?

WordsOfWednesday

Are You Giving?

There was never a time when I dated just for fun.
Maybe when I had a FWB – friends with benefits situation but even then, I wasn’t dating the person.
Since my second relationship, I have had less than 5 o! 😂
I feel like I have always dated with a purpose – long-term commitment/marriage.

As I have gotten older, that has become the case even more than ever.
Whenever I meet someone or get approached or however it happens sha, I immediately start thinking.
Do we align?
Will we be good together?
What does she have going for her?
How much has she invested into her human capital?

This year, I started with a refocus.
I am not entirely sure how it happened but it needed to happen.
I started thinking, what do I bring to others?

Have you ever decided not to let someone in or invest in someone because they didn’t have or bring enough?
That was me but then I started thinking, since you are further on your journey, why not invest?
Be a giver, a builder.
Givers never lack they say but givers are also never “sad or needing”.

I started to think back to my relationships and friendships.
In the situations where I was giving more of myself, I was happier and I felt more fulfilled.
But if you are holding your cards waiting for the other person to swipe first, you never get to invest.

I’m writing this at the barbershop right now and a barber is talking to two guys about a new girl he is dating.
He talks about how much he likes her and how she has expanded his outlook on the world- encouraged him to travel, start reading again and putting money into his 401k.
Unintentionally, she has invested in him.

One of the guys he is talking to says
“oh she works at Chevron? She a career woman,
That’s a winner-winner chicken dinner”
Suggesting that he had hit it big with getting a great woman.
That brings me back to what we are talking about – giving.

At no point in their conversation did he allude to what he was bringing to her life.
Not to say that he isn’t bringing anything but the question is, why do we always start from a place of receiving and not giving?
We always start with what we are getting and not what we are giving.
This is not limited to relationships. This goes for friendships as well.
What are you giving?

I challenge you today, in every friendship or relationship; start from a place of giving.
Think more about the love you have to give, the support, the time, prayers and everything else.
Give more of you.
And especially to God. Give your praise, your loyalty, dedication, faith and holiness.
Don’t always think about receiving first.

You are filled with amazing gifts, start with giving. Sometimes you spend all your time waiting for others to love you how you want to be loved, that you don’t even get to show how you can love as well.
Give the best of you – not foolishly.
But I have decided, I will give more than I receive.
I will love harder, be patient, spontaneous, forgiving and just feel good about giving. If I receive back directly, fine.
If not, I’ll understand it’s not a reflection of me.
Thanks for reading another #WordsOfWenesday. Till next time, stay up!

 

Thanks for reading as always!

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

 

#WordsofWednesday

Midterms – The Year So Far…

#WordsOfWednesday

Midterms


I hated midterms in high school but I also loved them.

They came at the right time. When you needed a re-up or change in scenery or just a damn break!

But they also force you to look back and then look ahead.

Most importantly, they forced you to stop and think.

 

Sooo, what does The Wordsmith do when he can’t sleep?

He writes.

 

It is exactly 3:15am as my fingers strike the keyboard of my Macbook. I reference my MacBook, not to flex (trust me, some people would think that) but because the battery needs replacing. Can barely hold a charge.

It is important to get but not the most important thing in my life right now.

I’ll speak on this idea some more in a bit.

 

2018 is my Sink or Swim year. If you have not read my WordsOfWednesday about it, please do so HERE.

I decided in December last year while sitting in my cousin’s house in Lagos that I was going to change my approach to my life this year.

How you ask?

 

For starters, I was going to gamble on myself.

Since I graduated college in 2012, I have typically played it safe. Calculated moves and trying to stay on the side of not getting hurt – not just emotionally.

This year, I decided things would be different.

Thankfully, I was blessed with a great job in the last quarter of 2017. So I decided, 2018 would be the year I stop living from paycheck to paycheck.

 

I was going to take ownership of my finances, my relationships, my faith, fitness, and creativity.

So how have I done so far?

 

Finances

 

In 2017 alone, I traveled to the following places.

Atlanta, New York (2x), Los Angeles, Houston, Nigeria, Europe (6 countries) – at least those are the ones I remember off the top of my head.

 

Without a doubt, all of my travel last year cost me no less than $10,000 – $12,000. Between flights, hotels, car, rentals, money spent on location and such.

 

So you will understand why this year, as of July 3rd, 2018 I have only been to Los Angeles and Houston.

LA to see my brother and Houston for my cousin’s wedding.

Looking at my finances, I could quickly tell that travel was where things were hurting me the most.

Now don’t get me wrong, I would not trade any of my experiences from last year for anything. I loved getting out there and seeing the world but I am going to be 28 in January, this is the year to set up the rest of my life.

 

So I decided, less travel and less credit card debt.

 

This year alone I have now:

 

Paid off in credit card debt as of June 30th – $5700

Sent my parents on vacation – $2600+

Spent fixing and registering my car – $2200

 

Honestly, I cannot tell you how I have done it so far.

Actually I can. I have obsessed over every detail. Before I buy something, I ask myself is this a “NEED” or a “WANT”

Most times, I realize that whatever I am thinking about is something I can do without.

I was so broke last year that something had to change.

 

This year, I am on a budget. Here are some ways I have improved my financial health.

 

  • I cook lunches from home. Eating out at work will hurt you. That postdates delivery charge? Total it for two weeks. Pot of stew right there.
  • I find bargains in everything. I still shop o. Don’t get me wrong (matter of fact if I didn’t shop this year, I might have even been able to pay down one more credit card but lets not loud it).

But I look through the sale section and I buy things out of season. Snatched up a coat a few weeks ago for 80% off. Look out for it’s debut in October.

  • I have a weekly budget. A weekly budget is soooooo important.
  1. it just helps to keep you in check.
  2. It allows you to prioritize what is really important.

My weekly budget is $50. This is for everything that is NOT gas or food for the house.

So if you are asking me to come out or do this or that, make sure it is in the budget, otherwise?

I am staying my ass at home.

 

  • I DON’T GO OVER BUDGET. It can be tempting but train yourself to stay within budget.
  • I set short-term goals. It can be daunting to look at your whole financial situation and think “where do I start?”

Trust me, I thought the same thing too but you have to just start.

Start with the smaller cards or debts. Knock them out. If you can prioritize one every month. Inch away at it.

Before you know it, the outlook is looking a lot better.

  • Understand that it is a marathon, not a sprint. The financial mess I got myself in was 4 years in the making. 6 months wont undo it all but it surely is a start.

One that I am making strides on and you can too.

 

Relationships

TRASH.

Yup. I have been trash.

 

I feel like I need a reboot for the year when it comes to relationships but yeah. It’s all good.

I am not happy (in this department) and I don’t even want to try.

You ever had such bad experiences that you are just like, “why bother?”

 

Yeah, that’s me right now.

 

Faith

I was mad at the church and mad at God for much of last year.

I feel the Nigerian church has a unique way of alienating young people (more on this in a few weeks). So I stayed away for most of it and gave up one thing I really love doing – praising God.

 

Late last year, someone told me “your service is for God and not them, do not let being mad at them push you away from giving God what He deserves.”

I am a lot better this year.

Not where I want to be at all but much closer. Serving, being patient and looking for new ways to improve my relationship with Him.

Things are looking up.

 

Fitness

Short and sweet – down 17lbs since I started working out and eating “better” on April 1st.

I can still do better but I’ll keep working.

Hoping to hit the 30lbs mark by the end of the summer.

 

How am I doing it?

 

Monday – No gym. I have my show in the evenings, so yeah.

Tuesday – Back and Biceps

Wednesday – Shoulders and Triceps

Thursday – Rest day

Friday – Chest and light legs/cardio

Saturday – Rest plus I have choir practice, so yeah.

Sunday – Chest and abs

 

I work abs into everyday but on Sunday, I do a full ab circuit.

 

Btw, who wants to join me for a weight loss challenge? Let’s drop 10lbs in July.

You with me?

 

Creativity

 

I haven’t done as much as I would want.

I need to expand more on this. The book I am writing though.

I will blow your mind. Simple.

 

WATCH THIS SPACE!

 

As you can see from my goals I wrote late last year/early this year, I have accomplished some but a lot is left to be worked on.

I challenge you, outline your goals, even the ones that don’t have a hard deadline and start working on them.

Start now.

It will be tough. Really tough but you can do it.

And I am here to help along the way if you need me. We are family.

 

We will all eventually get there.

I trust we will.

 

So what midterm grade would I give myself this year so far?

Finances: A-

Relationships: F

Faith: B

Fitness: A

Creativity: C+

 

Overall score: N*GGA GET YOUR ASS BACK TO WORK! With your score giving ass!

 

Lol, I am doing well. Better will come because if you know me, you know I never settle for mediocre.

Thank you for being here and holding me accountable.

 

How are you doing in 2018 so far?

Leave me a comment below, let’s work together.

 

Thanks for reading as always!

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

 

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday

Convenient Christian 3

#WordsOfWednesday

Convenient Christian – 2014
https://wp.me/p3GjtC-l5

Convenient Christian 2 – 2015
https://wp.me/p3GjtC-nE

Convenient Christian 3

I know your word
I remember the stories
The ones I was taught as a toddler
I google verses before I tweet
My love for you is weak
Even though you love me with all my sin
I know your names
Many as they are
But sometimes I am not sure you remember who I am
It’s in the beauty of the love
That you love me regardless of what I have to give
You give me everything and I am nothing without you
So why do I treat you like an option
When you treat me like a priority

I nibble at your love
Like a child picking through their dinner plate
The vegetables are like the meat of your truth
I seem to ignore the commandments that make me feel uncomfortable
The ones that challenge me
But righteous I am on the Twitter pages
Yet finding the book is harder than finding the book of Ruth
Tithing is a pain
Vacationing is a must have
Sex is conditional
My member will rise
But my face will frown at the next church-wide fast
I know how to call on you when I truly need you
Right before that job interview
Or big board meeting

I love to love you in my bio
I display captions as testimonies of your blessings
But do I really worship you for what you give
That which doesn’t seem IG worthy
I’ll make it to the club before 11pm because it’s free
But late into your house because no one can talk to me
The things of the world that don’t love me
Get more love from me
Happiness is fleeting
Because it is not rooted in you
So I show the highlights to the world
But I crave your filling in private
I had your number
Even the password
But I tried to get in half-heartedly so many times
I’ve locked myself out
Open up, please
I may never admit it to the world
But I am in need
Of you

It is not all doom and gloom
Because believe it
Your blessings that I never truly deserve
Still make me a testimony
And that’s why I love you so much
Because you love me
Even when I am faithless and unfaithful
You stand for me
Protect me
You fight for me
Like I am your last asset
You found me
I’m so glad that you found me
Please pull me in closer
Help me focus truly on you
Fill me up
Because no matter how I try to pretend
Bo noo ni.

2016 and 2017, I did not write an edition of Convenient Christian. I started writing it as a reflection on my life, my walk and my journey.
A reminder that my flaws were glaring and my shortcomings were high.
I needed to plainly show how much I was cutting corners.

You probably read it and found yourself in there too.
Some of it stuck, some obviously not but you were in there with me. A convenient Christian.
Paul said “…that which I should do, are the hardest for me to do”
I yearn to be much better than I currently am and I find myself slipping, falling and sometimes just being too damn, yeah you guessed right – convenient.

Over the last few weeks, I have felt a heaviness in my soul.
Not just in my heart, my soul. It was so bad that it crippled my body. I would wake up heavy but empty.
Alive but feeling dead.
Broken and bleeding.

I tried everything. Writing, going out, drinking and other things that typically brought temporary happiness.
Nothing worked.
Until I turned to the surest location.
God.

I cried and felt the weight lifted.
I realized that for a few years, I had been searching for happiness in the wrong things.
My blog, my show, my friendships, follower counts, how many people like me, how much money I was making, how impactful I became.
You see, all of was fleeting. Don’t get me wrong, I would still love to prosper in all those things but after a while, they just never filled me up.

I was going into relationships/friendships/dating with the intention of becoming whole.
Trying to see what they would pour into me, but two people with half-full cups cannot conduct holy communion.
It was never going to work.
It then became a chess match, who was willing to give up their position.
Instead of tapping into an endless well of love and fulfillment.

It was weird yo.
Like I would be so high off something and then this dark cloud would set over me.
Wiping out everything. I have seen depression. We know each other but then I started to think about the last time I was actually truly happy.
Like really really happy. And that made me sad.

Because we don’t see God, it is easy to not take him as serious. Or chop and change what parts of his presence, we want to take seriously.
It is a mistake.
It is insanely important to devote all to him. ALL.
We cut corners, ignore certain parts of the bible or the truth. We fight his word because we know it robs us of the convenience that comes with being average in our walks.
Excuses for everything, I even blamed my church as annoying as they are, as the reason I want going to serve.
Pathetic.

As I write this, this year, it is a damning call to action for me.
I have fucked up.
This year was meant to be my “take back my happiness year”. It has been positive in many notes but flat on others.
This year, this piece is a call to action.
To stand up for what is right. To give up my seat and tough it out.
To be counted.
To step out of the shadows.
To stop being a fucking convenient Christian – sorry Jesus, I’m working on it. I promise.

Will you be stepping out of your convenient position? Any actionable first steps.
Share in the comment section below.

 

I’ll also leave you with this song that has been jolting my heart for a few weeks. The words are everything I love about God.
No one else but…


Bo Noo Ni (feat. Luigi Maclean) by Joe Mettle

Love always,

The Wordsmith.

Thanks for reading as always!

New series out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday

Guilty as Charged

#WordsOfWednesday

Guilty as Charged

Introspection, self reflection, growth – those are some of the popular buzz words that we have come to know.
It’s amazing how much interacting with people at varying levels of self work, can aid ones journey.

Most of those words and the actual processes that come with them, are typically explored by people during a few life altering events.
A change in the life trajectory
A “Na me fuck up” moment

None of us are perfect and you should only be down on yourself if you notice that you are not growing or better yet, evolving.

Growing up, I always watched how my parents handled their growth.
They would always spend time looking back at themselves.
I know mine was initially connected to my sense of self worth. I always wanted to make sure I was being a person that I would be proud of but as I continue to advance in life, I know sometimes you will lapse.

Today, we live in a world where we a lot of our lives are lived in the public eye of social spaces.
Things like dismantling patriarchy, feminism, and the #MeToo movement have challenged men and women to reflect on who they really are. And even more so, to be better.

So it is not alien to see the buzz words I led with. People are daily exploring their truth.
One of the things that I love about myself is that I don’t like to lie to myself but one thing I love more than that?
I come to terms with my realities quickly.
I make peace with my decisions and in places where there is room for retribution or amendments, I take them.

I find that people typically don’t want to be honest with themselves and worse, they continue to live in the wrongs they have done.
Maybe my view is somehow connected to faith as I grew up in the church but I forgive myself, seek forgiveness for my behavior and move on.

Some people want you to wallow in your wrongs until they are ready to forgive or forget those wrongs. No.
As long as you are able to hold yourself accountable (I just had to throw it in there 😂)
you do not have to dwell in the valleys of your past.

Then you have the people that have done wrong but will not forgive themselves and continue to parade their sins.
The thing about processes like growth, introspection, reflection and others is that they are solemn and lonely journeys. Their manifestation comes from improved behavior.
Some people admit their fuckups but want to use it as a reference point for the rest of their lives.
Not repeatedly tweeting “I used to be like this…”
Be new and let your behaviors be the announcement of your newness.

I know there is guilt carried for past behaviors and people you may have hurt. I also know that you cannot demand that people forgive or forget your wrongs based on your own timetable.
One thing I believe though is that you should forgive yourself before anyone does.
Forgive yourself and don’t confine yourself to a guilty verdict for life.

 

Thanks for reading as always!

New series out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

 

#WordsofWednesday

Fear.

#WordsOfWednesday

Fear.

I was circling the area and trying to find a parking spot. I noticed one down the way and drove up to it.
From the driver’s side of my car, I tried to gauge if my car would fit into the spot.
I decided against parking there and drove further down the street. I was so sure there was another spot open.
There wasn’t.
By the time, I came back, yup! You guessed it right?
The spot was gone.
Another car, that looked similar to mine, took the gamble and parallel parked into the spot.
There I was, with nothing.

Fear is not an alien concept to many of us.
It comes from learned behaviors. You touch fire it burns, so you learn to not touch a name flame again.
You fall for a Yoruba man, well I don’t think I need to explain any further.
Fear hinders but it also protects.
People often fail to recognize how much it allows us to safeguard ourselves from hurt.
But is it possible that you can be too guarded that you hurt yourself even more?

I have loved before and been hurt.
More than I would like to admit and more than anyone is willing to understand.
Those heartbreaks sent me into a spiral and it doesn’t help that people never want to travel down your hurt with you. They just want to know why you ungratefully never appreciate the love they have to give you.
I admire people that love freely.
Though they are gamblers. They gamble on their hearts and hope their checks balance.
Some of us, intentionally or otherwise, hold fear. That fear prevents us from gambling recklessly.
People try to act as if love is a sweet easy move.
It’s a choice. A deliberate choice.
But it is also a gamble.
A gamble that it will go right, more than it is likely to go wrong.

Fear drove me to God.
I saw the mistakes my father made and my uncles. All but one of them.
So I pray hard and I try to be careful but that fear has crippled me.
Almost like someone who is a lifeguard, now afraid to even enter the pool.
I think of every step, every angle, every possibility.
Because I am afraid.
Afraid of what love brings and what it doesn’t bring.

I recently called out some folks at a church event for singles and young adults where I said that they romanticize marriage too much.
Everyone has a “happy marriage”!
But we see them, plus the ones whose husband is trying to get in your pants or the aunty that would kill her man, if not that hell was real.
I am afraid of getting it wrong.
I am afraid of not fulfilling my potential or changing the world.
I am afraid of never jumping.
I am afraid that I will never stop being afraid.

What are you afraid of? Comment below, let’s talk.

Thanks for reading as always!

New series out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan