Some friendships are only for a season, Sometimes they come in during your harvest Others during your drought Some are the shoulder to lean on Some need your shoulder A few are like mortgage contracts Thirty-year fixed Others are shorter than a Netflix show When some end It’s like an Iroko falls in the forest While others end with a soft block and unblock Then you change your Netflix password And forget they ever existed
The fear of loneliness is what makes it hard for some of us to audit our friendships because the truth is after some of those reviews, you’ll realize you were already alone. That you had grown apart while standing next to each other. Amazing to see that the pandemic of the last two years has brought many closer and some others completely dropped out of the picture. When was the last time you audited your friendships? Auditing also means reviewing your own performance and input in that space – are you worthy to still be called their friend?
Over the last few days, I have been thinking about the concept of “shelf life” and the spaces we occupy. Think of it like this – remember that vase your mom or dad had on the shelf. All your childhood, it was just there, in some African or Latino homes, it may even have been the place they hid emergency monies or keys. Notice how it was there for years and despite not moving much, it always served a purpose? Those are your riders, they may change color, grow old but they are there and impactful. Others are like the flowers in the vase – pretty for a while but ultimately, they “die and fade” and you hardly remember them beyond the short excitement they provided in the time they were there.
Auditing my friendships over the last few weeks, the following random thoughts jumped out to me
Don’t Stagnate,
Stagnation is scary. Not really the stagnation of you life but truly looking at the core of a man or woman. Money doesn’t buy swag. Houses and cars don’t hide insecurities. And truth be told, sometimes the wealth you acquire to cover the manhole of inadequacies, only makes those flaws more glaring and sad when they rear their heads. I realized quickly that I am very afraid of seeing my friends stagnant, emotionally to be precise. How are you still having the same types of fights or outbursts as you did when you were 21? Where is your evolution? Do not be stagnant. You may have more money in the bank, and more rings on your hands but has the child in you grown? Found peace? Start within.
Am I the drama?
If you are the one constant when drama arises in a group, maybe, just maybe you should stay closer to your therapist and be more diligent in your self-improvement work. The tweet above sums it up. At some point for your friendships and relationships to blossom, you need to find a way to self-reflect and introspect. Are you the drama? Are you the one people need to tiptoe around? Have you gotten those mood swings in check? Do you drift in and out of being present? Are you still unable to see the group but only yourself? Hmmm.
When did we become our parents?
I noticed a few months ago that I was the person that would be wronged by someone and not really feel the need to defend myself. Happened a lot. People would say or do things that were false and I would always rely on “God knows best and my truth is mine” I recently realized where that came from. A few years ago, there was someone in my church that was going around telling lies about my dad – the Pastor. It was causing so much pain to me because all I wanted to do was defend him but he always told me to let it go. For months, it raged on till the person left the church and went to another church. Still smearing his name.
A few months later, I came back home late in the evening, it must have been around 11pm. When I pulled up, there were cars I recognized around the house. Walking in, I noticed a group of people in the second living room. They did not see me, nor did I want them to but I did peek in. Guess what I saw? That same woman and her husband were on their knees begging my dad. She apologized for lying against him and such. And my dad in typical fashion, he forgave. My mother was furious! But my dad has always been big on forgiveness. And so am I, the only difference is that I am not one to forget, you will not do it to me twice. IT just got me thinking, when did I become my dad? I am super particular like him, I dress serious like him, and I emotionally approach things and conflict like him. Damn, I truly am that man’s son. Sorry, Maury.
Are you like your parents or guardians in any way? And when did you realize that you had become like them? Let me know in the comments below!
“I am so tired.
I am tired. I don’t need any encouraging words or “it will get better”
I am tired.
For the last 10 days, I have been dealing with family stuff as someone has been unexpectedly and worryingly sick in my immediate family.
Putting on a strong face and trying to keep it all together but dying inside.
I am so stressed. I want to cry every day but I feel like I am too strong. I need to be strong to hold it all together.
Parking was a fucking shit show this morning because of stupid construction happening in the fucking high of the day!
Took me over an hour to park. I hate everyone and everything.
My parents lied!
They promised me, forced me to get stupid degrees and promised to pay my student loans.
I make enough but the costs never stop.
Like that was money I was still thinking I would use to buy the rest of the shit I need for Nigeria or even pay for lodging!
I just want to close my eyes and everything ends.
I am tired.
I don’t want to feel all this pain.
I don’t want to be strong.
Don’t fucking know why I am typing this to you but idk.
FUCK THIS SHIT!”
I hit send on the text message, placed my phone to the side of my bed and I closed my eyes.
Seconds later, my mind was racing. I was filled with remorse and regretting even opening up.
I wanted to pick up my phone but this was not WhatsApp, this message was not getting deleted or erased.
The sunlight beamed through the blinds as I woke up. I picked up my phone and looked at the notification panel.
1:38pm.
Fuck! How did I sleep for so long?
I sluggishly got up, weaving through my notifications and apps, I ignored my bible app reminder and went straight for my iMessage.
As I pulled it up, I noticed that my message from the night before had been read four hours prior but no reply.
Fucking Kamal.
……
“Tobi, where are you?”
I heard him chuckle over the phone and he replied
“Chill, I’m coming”
I growled and snapped back
“Tobi, you said you have been coming since morning. If you couldn’t come, you should have just told me and I would have found a way to come and get it.
Where are you now, so I can come and get it?”
I could tell my anger took him by surprise as he said
“I’m already on my way to you. I’m bringing it”
I replied
“How long?!”
“15minutes”
He snarled back.
Click. The call was over.
The next roughly 15minutes were sooo annoying!
One thing I hate more than anything else is being made to wait.
I needed that bag and what is more annoying is that I gladly would have gone to get it myself.
But here I was waiting on someone who didn’t see the urgency in what I needed.
When he pulled up, I opened the door and let him in.
His first words didn’t help because I was doing everything within my power to not snatch my purse from him.
He smiled and said
“Why are you so angry?”
I took a deep breath and said
“Tobi, give me my purse”
He started trying to play hookie with me by running around the coffee table in the center of my living room.
I was so angry and I charged at him.
He ducked and turned around the couch, he was now standing between the couch and my dining table.
I stopped to catch my breath and I said
“Tobi, please give me my purse. I am tired abeg”
He smiled and started walking towards me with his hands behind his back, both on my purse.
I walked towards him and we were soon standing within inches of each other.
He leaned in and tried to kiss me.
I weaved and moved my head as I said
“Tobi stop. Just please give me my purse. I’m really tired”
He smirked and said
“Not giving it to you until you give me a kiss”
I turned around to walk away. I was boiling inside.
He tried to grab my forearm as I turned away. In one swoop, I swung around and smacked his hand.
There was a look of pure shock on his face, he clearly didn’t think I was going to hit him that hard.
He pulled his hand out and stretched my purse towards me.
I collected it and sluggishly walked into the room.
I opened the bag and began shuffling in the purse for what I was looking for.
I couldn’t find it.
I couldn’t fucking find it!
My eyes were getting cloudy and my heart was racing. I turned the contents of the purse on to the bed.
A parking ticket I had been putting off was amongst the contents. I hissed as I rummaged through the bag still looking for the item.
No luck.
I could feel my breath leaving me.
I got up and went towards my bedside desk. Opening the drawer, I started looking for it there.
Nothing.
I walked back to the bed and sat down.
At this point, the tears were coming down my face.
I was afraid.
My mind went blank. The last time I saw it, I was putting it into my purse.
So where could it have gone?
I stood up to head into the living room. As I stood up, I felt my legs give way and I slumped with the back of my head catching the corner of my bed.
The last thing I heard was Tobi bursting into my room.
I saw his legs as he bent next to me and lifted my head into his arms.
He kept calling my name.
I was slowly forgetting mine.
My eyes shut.
…..
“Do you know when the last time she took her medication was?”
Those were the first words I heard as I was getting wheeled into the emergency room. There was no way Tobi could have known.
As they parked the bed, the doctors tried to ask me some questions. I roughly remember what I said.
Soon there was a drip going into my forearm and I felt myself drifting off again. The last thing I remember was motioning weakly to Tobi who was sitting next to me, he rode up and stood over me.
I sheepishly whispered
“Kamal.”
He looked confused. I whispered again
“Call Kamal”
When I woke up about 5hours later, Tobi and Kamal were sitting on opposite sides of the bed, flanking me.
I could feel the tension between them. It was like a cloud over the open bed space.
Tobi must have used my Face ID to get into my phone which was what I expected anyways and Kamal, while worried about me, must have not understood why Tobi was there.
I slowly sat up and said
“Have you two met?”
Tobi shook his head and said
“I just called him like you asked”
My lips were chapped and my throat was dry. I swallowed hard and said
“Thank you”
I looked over at Kamal and smiled before continuing
“I told you to call Kamal because he knew my medication and would have been able to tell the doctors”
Kamal jumped in and said
“Yes, I told them already and they gave you a drip and a refill, you should be good to leave here later tonight or tomorrow if you want”
I slid back into the bed.
I could tell that Tobi was dying inside, I could see it on his face. He didn’t know why I fainted and here I was asking another man to come and meet us at the hospital. But, I was not about to explain at that time. I was too weak.
He tried to hold it together for a bit and then he said
“Hey- So I have to go and take care of some work stuff.
Will you let me know when you get discharged?”
I nodded.
He leaned in gave me a hug and then that “man” nod to Kamal before walking out.
As he walked out, I turned to look at Kamal.
He smiled without saying anything. I asked
“What?”
He smiled and said
“Nothing o. You just know how to pick them”
Slightly embarrassed, I replied
“I didn’t even do anything”
He smiled even more and said
“Yeah right, you never do”
He continued and said
“How are you feeling? I was worried when I got the call”
I looked down on the bed and said
“I’m fine to be honest, I just didn’t take my meds because I couldn’t find them.
But I’m good honestly”
He said
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and said
“You know me, I’m good”
He said okay and then he asked
“Are we still on for this weekend, now that you have decided to put me in a death scare”
I replied
“Ori e” – translates to “Your head” before continuing to say
“Honestly, I should be good with a day of rest and icing my head. I think I hit it on the bed when I fell.
Hurts like a MF”
He replied and said
“Lmaooooo its because your head is so big”
If I could have punched him, I totally would have.
…..
As we pulled up to the venue, I noticed that he still had his drink in the door of the car.
“You’re supposed to have finished drinking that already?”
I whined.
He smiled, picked up the bottle and downed what was left of it. I knew it was going to be a good night.
We walked to the venue and I suggested that we grab drinks before the show started.
We snuck into the connected bar and sat by the bar.
His eyes kept wandering as he was amazed by the setup. There were video games everywhere.
We ordered our drinks and I saw him googling “Mario Kart games on PlayStation 4”. Such a big kid.
I asked the bartender to surprise me with my drink and I think he ordered a Red Bull.
We took our drinks and headed into the venue, the show was about to start.
As we approached the door, we got stopped and were told to get our tickets at the box office. So we walked all the way back to the front, got the tickets and then headed in.
I could tell how handsome he looked by the stank eyes most of the ladies flashed at me. He kept beaming that smile behind me and I was all here for it.
We sat right next to each other but he turned my seat, so my back was to him and we faced the stage.
The entire show, bar when he was on his phone, his hands were on my bum.
I couldn’t wait for us to get out of there.
The show was fun. Lots of laugh, improv nights are 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 his bones since I picked him up at the airport.
As we walked out, I noticed this white girl who had come up to me in the club.
She was sitting down on the floor with a cup of ice.
I asked
“What happened? You left me in there”
She was so drunk and even attempting to respond to me, she knocked over her cup of ice and she looked so distraught. I felt bad but I rushed out of there so quick!
We made it to the car and I couldn’t wait to get us home. He was playing music and we were having a great time in the car and then he asked
“How far away from the house are we?”
I nonchalantly replied
“About 5 minutes”
He smiled and once we hit a red light, he leaned over and kissed me.
Then he slid his left hand up my skirt. I couldn’t concentrate.
My legs started shaking and my breathing short. He slid my panties to the side and began rubbing my clit.
I was squirming while trying to keep the car steady.
What the fuck?
I could feel the chills rising up my back. I wanted to close my eyes and let go but we were almost home.
I remember veering out of my lane and my car beeping to alert me.
I was alert alright, my pussy was ready for a beating.
To cap it off, he removed his hand, looked at me and licked my juices off his 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 he reclined my seat.
He leaned in as if he was about to kiss me. I was wrong.
He reached up my skirt and pulled my panties down.
Kissed me on the forehead and hopped out of the car.
I was soooooooo angry!
Like wtf?!
I gathered myself, pulled my skirt down and hopped out of the car.
There he was standing in the middle of the parking lot, all 6’3 260lbs of him. His left hand was to his face.
As I got closer, I realized he was holding my panties to his nose.
We entered my apartment and he sat down on the couch, I made him a drink and pulled down his pants.
I was ready to go.
His moans were my favorite part. His hands running through my hair as he cursed and told me
“This is the best head ever”
My inner thot smiled.
I stroked and slurped down his shaft, soaking his balls and drinking on to my leather couch.
I wanted all of him deep in my throat and in my guts.
He tried to fight it but wasn’t very successful.
He went silent as I stroked his dick with my left hand and juggled his balls with my right hand.
He pushed me off and walked me back to the room.
He climbed on the bed and laid on his back.
I climbed on the bed and planted my pussy on his face before leaning forward and taking in his dick – 69.
It was wet on both ends of the coast as we feasted on each other.
He pushed me off as I came and was about to lean into me, there is a full length mirror at the foot of my bed, I caught a glimpse of myself.
As I laid down, I spread my legs wide. He lowered his member into me and started slow.
Cupping my head in his hand and protecting it from the head board, he thrust in and out.
The pace picked up and my profanity did as well.
He was hitting it right.
His grip on my thighs was as hot as the depths his dick was exploring.
I could see the hunger in his eyes.
He pounded me like candied yams. I was loving it.
When he flipped me over, I was ready.
I arched my back and tooted my ass towards him. He smiled and slide into me.
I could still feel how wet his balls were as they slammed into my clit.
He grabbed the shit out of my waist and he went to work. It was as if we hadn’t seen each other in 3 months.
He kept at it and so did I, throwing it back like a third draft of a senior thesis.
I could feel welling up and getting ready with his canon.
So I wrapped my legs around his butt.
He was leaning all the way into me, I was almost falling off the bed as he pounded my pleading pussy.
I wanted it. More of it.
All of it.
He didn’t stop.
I wouldn’t let him stop.
Just as he was about to let go, I looked back, damn near from the floor and yelled
“Fill me up”
Boom.
He grunted.
Moaned and pumped me full of his warm seed.
I lay there for a few minutes as he curled up next to me panting for air.
I turned over and said
“Where are my panties?”
He smiled and said
“You’re never getting them back”
It was going to be a long weekend and I was going to enjoy every minute of it.
I rolled over in the bed as he got up and headed to the bathroom.
The lights went on and then he said
“The condom broke”
Welcome to my first series of 2019! Expect a lot more this year. That’s all I’m saying.
Oh also, please leave me a comment and share your thoughts. Thanks!
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~
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.
I could feel the heat in my ears.
Also in my fingertips. It felt like someone was standing behind me and forcefully pushing down on my shoulders. It just felt like a weight was on my shoulders and I couldn’t breathe.
We were sitting at one of the restaurants in the airport, I can’t remember what it’s called but I wasn’t paying much attention to anything else.
My mind was racing and back to a familiar place. A place I had hoped getting on a plane would keep away from – for good.
“So Dee, I didn’t want us to meet like this but I am glad that I was able to reach you before you got on that plane.
I know you must have a million questions and I promise, I am here to answer them all.
I am tired of having to keep you in the dark”
I just sat there silently.
Sandra pushed the cold bottle of water that she had just bought towards me.
I didn’t even look up. My eyes were fixed on a chip in the tile.
It truly felt like if I opened my mouth, it would be a watershed of tears.
With my left hand, I reached for the bottle and twisted the cap open.
I took two full gulps before I looked up and said
“I don’t even know the questions I should start with…”
He straightened up and then said
“I completely understand… how about this?
I’ll start with the things that I think you need answers to and you can fill in?
How does that sound?”
I nodded without making eye contact.
He started and said
“I have known your mother since we were in university and before she met your father, we were very much in love.
But we had different life goals at the time. I wanted to move to Ethiopia to work for Shell and your mother wanted to teach. Everything happened very fast and before I knew it, she was off to the States with your father.
I never even got the chance to stop her. She was gone.
And I had to settle with that for 6 years, until they moved back to Nigeria with you.
We met up and at first, I was just glad that she was back and I was able to spend time with her.
I very quickly noticed that she was still in love with me and I never stopped loving her anyway.
One thing led to another and we were sleeping together and basically living our lives outside of our marriages… yes I briefly got married but it didn’t last because I was not in love with her.
I loved and I still love your mother very much. “
I looked up with a scowl on my face and said
“So why didn’t both of you just get divorces? And save us all the pain”
He looked down and sighed before saying
“We should have. I totally know we should have.
But there are certain things I am not able to speak about. She has to be the one to tell you much of what happened”
Sandra placed her hand on my lap and said
“Dee, are you okay?”
I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I just kept my head down and continued crying.
She moved in and hugged me tightly. It just set me off even more.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see people worriedly looking on, trying to decipher what was going on.
This went on for a couple of minutes and then I stopped.
I looked at him and said
“I need to talk to my mom”
……
HONEST MOMENT:For many of you reading this right now, I know the numbers, you won’t leave a comment. I think this blog is one of the purest forms of my expression. I am the most real here in what I write and what I create for you all. Your comments and interaction go along way. They encourage me to write more, post more, think outside the box and sometimes they simply make me feel better about life. Even as I write my novel, your words go a long way to fighting the imposter syndrome and doubt that sometimes aim to derail me.
So this is all to say, please leave me a comment when you read something. I am open to criticism as well. It’s the best reward a writer gets. Thank you all. Now back to this captivating story!
…..
After more than an hour in traffic, we pulled into our home.
I think all our workers were surprised to see me coming back so soon.
“Oga wetin happen?”
one asked.
I just ignored and walked into the house. There were people there.
Two of my mom’s childhood friends, and they immediately smiled when they saw me.
One of them, Aunty Dolapo brightly said
“Dee baby! Look at you all grown up.
You’re a big man now. I remember when I used to cradle you to sleep. See you now!”
As she rubbed my back.
I sheepishly smiled as my mom greeted Sandra
“Ehn, bawoni Sandra” (translates to how is it going?)
She knelt in courtesy to my mom and my aunts.
As she rose, the main door quietly closed. Everyone including my mom looked towards the direction of the hallway that connects the main entrance and the sitting room.
My mom curiously asked
“Did you guys close the door when you entered?”
I didn’t answer.
I knew what was about to happen. She wasn’t ready and somehow I was happy about that.
The hallway was dimly lit and connected a few rooms, so the image was going to come as a surprise.
A few moments passed and there he was.
My mother’s lover.
As he emerged, she gasped. They all gasped.
Not because they didn’t know who he was but because they were surprised he was there.
They all knew who he was from their time in college.
And I would later find out that they knew about them sleeping together for more than two decades!
My mom found the words and said
“Lamide, what are you doing here?”
He didn’t respond as he took a few more steps into the room.
A quick glance around the room and you could pick up the jaws of my mother’s friends off the ground.
They couldn’t believe what was happening.
“Olamide!
Ki lo wa se ni bi????”
She screamed at him.
He didn’t flinch and he moved closer. Then he said
“I didn’t think it was right for him to leave like that. You can’t push him away because your world is changing. He deserves all the love he can get.”
She snapped, and you could tell she was trying to hide something.
“Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do???
Who gave you the right?!”
He took a step back.
“Who gave you the right?!”
She continued.
I stepped in and said
“Here I was thinking I was the fucked up one. I have attempted suicide. Wanting for the whole thing to end. Yet here you were with secrets so big that they have killed people for less.
You are evil.
You tried to ruin my world when you were living a lie! And you go to church and mount the pulpit like some holy person. You are fucking evil!
I wish my father could look into your eyes and see how much you lied to him and cheated on him for years!
Gosh I hate you!”
As I wrapped up. She quietly laughed amidst her tears and said
“He knew”
I didn’t hear her properly so I asked
“Huh?”
She looked up teary eyed and sniffling as she said
“He knew!”
I was shocked but she continued and said
“He always knew.
This was always his idea. Your father was a dog when I met him.
He wanted to be with anything, man, woman or whatever. I had to keep his secret and the whole marriage was a cover!
For many years, I had to pretend to love him and be happy. I couldn’t anymore. So I decided to be with someone who actually makes me happy.
And your father knew about the whole thing… It was all his idea”
I couldn’t believe her so I asked
“So why didn’t you just get a divorce?”
She laughed and said
“Omode lo n se e
(Your naivety is evident)
We didn’t get divorced because your father never wanted a divorce. He wanted to keep his ministry and getting a divorce would break that. And yes, more than accusations of him sleeping with men.
After all, there are men of god who lay with other men or people’s wives”
I was fully enraged at this point.
I started yelling
“So you and your husband had a plan to live your lives but you crucify me for being myself.
For something I am not even able to control?????
You are both devils. OMG!
I can’t even believe this shit…. Arghhhhh I wish I could strangle you!
I pray you rot in hell. You are wicked.”
Olamide stepped in and said
“Dayo, I know you are upset but we don’t need to say all that”
I turned to him and said
“Fuck off!”
He put his hands out and moved them as if to try and calm me.
I continued and said
“Why do you even care?!
She had you in the shadows for 22 years! And you are okay with that?”
He smiled and said
“I had to keep her close. It was the only way I could stay close to my son”
My mom screamed
“Olamide!”
My jaw dropped. Both my aunts sitting gasped and Sandra just stood shocked.
I moved forward and said
“Excuse you?”
He straightened up and said
“You are my son”
I shot a look at my mom and she couldn’t hide her face fast enough. More tears flowed down her cheeks.
I looked at my mother and said
“What is he talking about?”
She dropped her head and said
“Your father couldn’t have children!
It was part of what made him live so recklessly. I wanted children. I thought I loved him and when I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t even try to debate it.
He always knew you might not be his but he was willing to go along with the lie because it protected us”
I couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.
He spoke next
“I knew something was off by how quickly your mother married him and how they ran to Boston.
I think she was pregnant and her family would have killed her. So she married the man that was ready and moved with him.
When I first set my eyes on you, I knew you were mine.
I was just glad God brought you back to me. I have always loved you from afar.”
“Yet you watched me suffer for years in the hands of this woman?
Some father you are”
I snarled back and stormed out.
Sandra followed me and soon we were gone.
…..
It had been three years since that day.
I hadn’t spoken to anyone in that room that day except Sandra.
And I was living in Virginia now.
One evening, I logged into Facebook after a long day of work.
I had so many friend requests, many of which I continue to ignore. As I was scrolling through, I clicked on the messages tab and noticed a few messages.
One of them was from Micah – remember him?
The deacon from way back.
Apparently, he had messaged me a few days before I opened the message.
He had won the visa lottery.
He was coming to America.
I don’t know why, but I smiled at the laptop and a soft voice said
“Babe, what is making us laugh?”
I moved my laptop to the couch with my left hand as she straddled me.
I said
“One of my childhood mentors is coming to America and wants to stay with us”
She smiled and said
“Oh thats dope. How long?
They can stay in the guest bedroom”
I nodded as she kissed me and said
“Look at us making adult decisions.”
I chuckled and she said
“Would this be before or after the wedding?”
while getting up and heading for the kitchen.
“After”
I said.
She stopped, turned and said
“Ooooh, so I’ll already be your wifey. “
I nodded and said
“Yes you will”
She did a shimmy dance with a huge smile on her face as she walked out.
I turned to my right and saw the stack of wedding invitations we were about to mail out and only one thing came to my head.
“WhatTheHeckMan!”
The End.
Please help pick my next series!
Pleaseeeeeeee leave me a comment and let me know how you felt about this part and the entire series. It means a lot!
Thank you for reading the #BGW series with me! I thoroughly enjoyed writing it for you all and I hope you enjoyed the ride with me. If you hate me for how the ending panned out, I AM HERE FOR IT~ 😊
Another series by The Wordsmith is already cooking! @adewus4real
Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. Thanks for the love and support.
There are few moments in life where things make you take a beat. Sometimes after a beating. Other times, after realizing that you need to truly stop and breathe. For years, the phrase “na me fuck up” was all too familiar. Stupid decisions, trusting wrongly, not speaking plainly and sometimes falling blindly. I would sit down and cry while beating up myself. “Sanmi, you should know better” “How could you?” I was mostly burned and forced to write pieces like Fuck Your Friendship. Burned by “friends” or “love interests”. I was always a feeler – I allowed myself to see the best in people. I get it from my dad. There was once someone that dragged my father’s name in public. I knew he was in the right but he kept his cool and kept encouraging us to be calm. One evening, I came back from school and I noticed a few extra cars outside. As I made my way in, I heard voices. The person had come with their family and friends to beg my father – they were on their knees asking for forgiveness. I wanted him to publicize it but he said no. The words he left me with have stuck. “In certain situations, you will learn lessons that you truly wish you could have avoided but they will shape you. Peace within you is a higher grade than public validation” It never really clicked for me until I became a man. I would sit down and beat myself for poor decisions. Why didn’t I listen to my friends about this person or why did I stay in that situation? Why did I let them back in? All that and more. But here is the truth, you will make mistakes and with all the lessons I have learned, I still make them. The best you can do is continue to improve as you go along. Have a short memory for the fuckups but cherish the growth points and the future you will have with those lessons. So 2018 has been filled with less “Na me fuck up” moments. People will always try to drag you back and remind you of your fuckups but stay focused. Seriously. It will be hard and you may be down on yourself. But don’t let it linger. I used to say there was no one I regretted being friends with or dating but there is one person. While we shared some great times, they make me regret ever knowing them. And it is easy to wallow. You want to continue to kick yourself! But to what end? Oh, he was playing you? She never really loved you and she used you? Okay, it has happened and you have learned. Now stand up and forgive yourself. Yes, not them. Forgive yourself for the guilt, pain, shame, and rage you feel. You are amazing and you will continue to live and learn. You will still make more of those mistakes and you will scale challenges with ease – you are evolving.e Every single day. And yes, you deserve some accolades!
What are some things that have had you saying “na me fuck up” lately? Comment below and let’s talk.
Thanks for reading as always!
Black.Gay.Waiting Part 4 out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!
Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated.
I called you, twice It kept ringing No answer The next time we talk It will be over The story The movie Battery, dead Love? Left.
Unpacked & Abandoned.
You ever moved to a new place and as you are planning to leave the current place, you decide that certain things won’t go with you?
The old bed frame, that broken toaster, the deadbeat partner? 👀
Unpacking is a cornerstone of growth and change.
Sometimes we don’t actively recognize that but it is so important.
The mind is like a train, things come in and get off, some come on and never get off. There is so much that will influence you in life but not all of it needs to enter your next phase with you.
Recently, I started thinking about the things that I have experienced in my past that I still carry around with me and how they could be affecting my future.
Yes, he cheated on you or you let her walk all over you.
Unpack that and set it down, so you can thrive.
Many of us allow those interactions/experiences/moments define us going forward. It is important to cherish some things in the now but let them go.
Why are you always worried about what he might do to hurt you?
Why do you always get defensive when women get close?
Have you seriously unpacked the things that you carry?
For the first few years after my relationship, I couldn’t imagine feeling the amount of love that put me at risk of getting as hurt as I did.
I actively avoided anything that will allow me to fall that hard for someone. In some cases, I would blatantly self-sabotage myself to prevent chances of being hurt.
I had to stop once and ask myself, why do you keep carrying that around?
The annoying thing with unpleasant things you haul around is that it is sometimes the first thing new people see when they meet you.
In the second conversation, your hurt, doubts, and insecurities start showing and he/she wants to run as far away from you as possible.
And the part that sucks the most is that it is so far away from who you really are.
Set some time aside, the things you have seen or been through are all very valid but they should not govern your life and your path forward.
What are the good things? Note them and cherish them.
Everything else? Let them go.
It is not enough to unpack.
When you take your stuff to Goodwill or Salvation Army to donate, you don’t later go back to buy it.
It takes intentionality to thrive and move forward.
You need to make it a daily choice to bask in your greatness. You have let go of the “waste”, now focus on the great.
Most people will reckon that packing can be difficult because you don’t know what you will need where you are going.
It is much easier after a trip to know what you don’t need for the next one. So toss it.
Abandon it, you will be better for it.
#WordsOfWednesday #WTHM #TheRantsShow
Black.Gay.Waiting Part 4 out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!
Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated.
It’s 5:02am and I up!
Super thankful to God for another year and just stoked to try and achieve more of my dreams in 2018.
I always pray a prayer; I thank God for being faithful even when I am faithless and unfaithful.
That prayer means so much to me because it is thanking God for being God but also reminding myself to be better.
I’m up. It’s my 27th birthday today and I feel blessed.
Most of my friends usually have what I like to call the “birthday blues” around their birthdays and for the first time in my life, I experienced what that felt like yesterday.
Randomly, I went into a funk. I started to question and dissect my life, my happiness.
A part of me was missing my parents, my siblings and some of the friends I hold dearest to me.
There was also this sense of emptiness that tried to fill me up. Weird right?
But thankfully, I was able to circle back into the things I appreciate about life and the life God has given me.
I am a heavily flawed man.
Some think I am short tempered, I am not always patient, I can be dismissive and I really can’t f-cking stand puff puff. And I’m going to bald soon! Ughhhhhh!
So yeah, I am a flawed man.
But I also love really hard, forgive easily, fight for those I love and I will go to bat for any of you!
My story is not perfect but the best part is that it is not complete.
God is still working on me and I am thankful he has you on my ride.
Today, I celebrate God in me.
Humbled by his grace, love and mercy. I truly thank God for not giving up on me.
Yup! I said I wasn’t going t cry but I typed that and the floodgates opened! Where is Sonny Badu when you need him.
But my God has been so faithful.
26 was good. Challenging but good.
27 can only be better.
To mark today, I am going to give you guys 3 sides of me.
Please never let the chronological expectations of life rob you of your birthday glow! And please do something you will be proud of in 2019. Read my 2018 mantra – Sink OR Swim here and then take the leap!
From the desk of The Wordsmith, it’s a very special edition of WordsOfWednesday! Happy Birthday to Me!
1.
THE FLAWED ME
It’s clear
My mistakes are like a parking ticket.
After driving fast and evading reality
It caught up to me when I was parked trying to walk and not run.
I am like Adam.
Stealing from God, betraying his trust and rejecting his favor
Ungrateful son
Putting myself to the sword
It feels good
To return home like a prodigal son
I tried to sneak back in
The alarms went off
He saw me from a mile and around the corner
Like my pops
He didn’t say much
I knew I had done wrong
So I snuck into my room and cried
When I emerged, he had dinner ready
The keys to his ride
To a higher place
He didn’t speak about my mistakes
He didn’t have to, I knew
We knew
I just had to not make them again
2.
“You Are God” – Nathaniel Bassey
(feat. Chigozie Achugo)
You are God from beginning to the end There’s no place for argument You are God all by yourself You are God from beginning to the end There’s no place for argument You are God all by yourself
You’ve got times and seasons in your hands You called for light out of darkness You don’t need a man to be the God you are But you have chosen to call me your own
There is something about this song. It makes me so humbled by where I am today.
Sometimes I think back to all of the lows in my life and how I thought I would never pull through. From heartbreak to betrayal to backsliding, God has always got me.
It is so humbling and scary that someone can love you through all of the “everything”. So I wanted to share this song with you all.
The lines in song that really get me are
You don’t need a man to be the God you are But you have chosen to call me your own
Like this God really took me through it all and doesn’t need any man or what any man says to be amazing to me. I am so grateful.
I am far from perfect and evolving but it is so comforting to have a God that will never forsake me.
3.
27 THINGS ABOUT THE WORDSMITH
When was the last time you cried?
This morning. Panic not, I was just overwhelmed by how good God is and how loved I am.
Do you have any special talents?
WHATHECKMAN! 😊
Do you have any siblings?
3 absolute rockstars!
How would you describe your fashion sense?
London living Bachelor with NY taste and Italian Influence who still wants you to know that omo naija ni mi
What’s the #1 most played song on your iPod?
Hola Hola by Sugarboy
What sound do you love?
The sound of my direct deposit hitting my account.
What is your favorite form of exercise?
Partner exercises. 👀
Which celebrity do you get mistaken for?
Pleasure P.
What was the first thing you bought with your own money?
My car.
What story does your family always tell about you?
My mom loves this story but when I was a little kid somewhere between 2-3, I had bow legs but I Was cute as shit! (yes, she includes this in the story) Anyways, we had a TV in their bedroom and in the living room, so I would turn on both of them and then run back and forth between rooms to try and see if the Tv’s were showing the same exact thing. Of course by the time I made it around the corner, the frames would have changed but yeah, young me.
For the sake of today, I’ll tell you lot another one but my mom always talks about growing up as a kid, I would always come to her with a smile. No matter what happened the say before. I would be singing and barge into any room in the house with a song in my mouth. And when I am around my parents, it still happens.
When was the last time you had an amazing meal?
Brethren, it depends on what kind of meal we are talking about. 👅😴👀
What do you want to be when you grow up?
As per sey 27 never grown abi? Okay o, I sha want to be impactful. No matter what I lay my hands on, I want to positively change lives.
If you had to work on only one project for the next year, what would it be?
A way to bring free education to all the kids in Africa.
What would you do if you won the lottery?
Short answer:- Change lives
Long answer:- Hennessy ti wo body!
What do you do when you’re not working?
Be alone, write, listen to music and talk to my friends. Also started watching sermons on Youtube again, so yeah that too.
When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with?
Someone to talk through their problems with and bounce ideas off. Wide range of things to be honest.
What is your favorite way to relax?
Laying on my carpet in my living room and not being spoken to.
What social customs do you wish would just disappear?
Basically, anything that marginalizes or oppresses women.
What is your favorite holiday?
Touring Europe with Itafe.
Tell us one of your bad habits!
I am very stubborn. And sometimes when I form opinions about something and I feel strongly about it, I rarely change my mind. I can be dismissive. I am a horrible texter (blame this on people that write me essays tho). I forgive people that have repeatedly burned me.
Favorite memory from childhood?
Christmas at my grandfather’s house with all my cousins from all over the world.
Favorite smells?
Cologne. A particular brand of perfume that a friend of mine wears. Just anything clean or from Bath and Body Works.
What’s the first thing you notice about people?
How they treat other people, how loud their voice is or isn’t. Teeth as well. Does it appear clean or not?
What terrifies you the most?
That I am a fraud or that I won’t maximize the potential I see and people see in me.
I was really bullied and taken advantage of as a kid. Boarding school was initially rough. It stuck with me.
Self-esteem issues and confidence issues. Maybe that’s why I am never able to enjoy my successes, I am always looking over my shoulder. Worried about the drop. I never understand why people like me or are fascinated by me. I think I am a decent host and writer or singer. People want me to write a book but I worry like it failing will break me and reinforce my fear of not being good enough, so I have stalled on it. But yeah, I don’t think I am handsome, I don’t get what people see. And I think all of that came from those childhood feelings. So there you have that.
How much control do you really have over yourself?
Too much. Sometimes I just need to let myself live.
How would you describe yourself in 5 words?
Flawed. Talented. Emotional. Loving & Shy.
What makes you smile?
Honestly, making you and all the people I love smile in every extension of myself.
Thank you for always supporting me and being here with me!
Here is to an AMAZING 2018 for all of us! From The Wordsmith and all of WhatTheHeckMan ~ I love you all!
Bless.
Come back next week for Part 4!
#BGW #SanmiSaturdays #WTHM
Our house was probably more silent than the morgue in the following weeks after my father’s passing.
My mother didn’t cry much. I was really surprised, that was always how she was.
Funny enough, my father was always the emotional leader of the home. He was very in tune with feelings around the home.
I remember once when my “friend” had a birthday party and invited the entire block but not me.
I sobbed all day in my party outfit.
My plan was to crash the party but my mother shut that down. I was not going to be out there embarrassing my family.
Notice any patterns?
That evening, my father came into my room. He was fully clothed in his all white agbada, I was only 13 and he sat with me and played video games all evening till I passed out in my outfit.
That was my father.
He always had my back, even when I was unsure and just out of it.
And I loved him dearly for it.
So you can imagine losing him under the circumstances that we did.
I was crushed.
I stayed up in my room as the funeral planning went on.
The church was handling much of it and my mother was just in the house with no one feeling confident enough to approach her.
It was about 4am in the morning when I heard a car honk.
A few minutes later, I heard the doors open and voices became more pronounced.
At first, I thought it was more people coming to pay their respects but it didn’t make sense for them to be there that early.
Shortly after, I heard a mild knock on my door.
“Come in”
I said
The door swung open and it was one of my mother’s cousins. I barely sat up when she said
“You have guests. Mummy wants you”
I felt my heart skip a beat. My mother had not spoken to me since that day at the church.
I wasn’t sure what was going on but I slowly got up.
Slipping into my clothes, I headed down the stairs.
When I arrived at the living room, I noticed it was filled with about 15 people. My mother was sitting in the big chair that my father used to sit in.
Her hands between her legs and clad in an all black gown, she barely lifted a brow as I took my seat.
As I scanned the room, I noticed my dad’s cousin to my left.
He lived in Saudi Arabia and the last I heard, he wasn’t in town.
I greeted him and sat with my head bent.
He opened the meeting with greetings before addressing the passing of my dad,
the upcoming funeral and how he wanted things to go moving forward.
“….I know you are still grieving but whether you like it or not, this is your son.
God did not make you a barren woman. He is your responsibility and I have never known you to be one to shelve your responsibilities.
Now the circumstances we find ourselves in are very unique and unexpected but this is still a family.
God gives and He takes how He feels best but He gave you this one and made you guys one. We can only ask for His mercy and guidance because we cannot do it alone or by our reasoning”
He stopped and looked in my direction as he said
“…you are a man.
Regardless of your orientation or preferences. You have to step up and be the man of this house. You have to be there for your mother and be her rock”
This was a man my mother and my entire family greatly respected. He rarely spoke but when he did, people listened.
So it was surprising when my mother blurted out
“No!
We had a man of this home. He is a disgrace to this family and to God!”
She was crying as the words left her lips.
I am still not sure how it happened but I stood up and snapped.
“Are you serious?!
Are you being serious right now?
I did everything you asked for a son. I am at the top of my career, I don’t steal or cheat.
I have never brought reproach to your name, but the moment I want the freedom to love who I want, you want to call me a disgrace.
You publicly humiliated me!
Your own fucking son!!!! I am your son first and foremost!
There are people that have sons as murderers that stand by them. But the moment I want to love someone, I am the disgrace?
You are the disgrace! You dragged me in front of the house of God to shame me!
What kind of God do you serve?
Where is that in the bible? Call me a disgrace, in fact exile me!
Once the funeral is over, I am going back to America. You can have your perfect home since you want the whole world to think everything is perfect in here!”
I was standing and the whole room was stunned into silence.
I took a deep breath and said
“Uncle, thank you for your wise words but there is nothing here.
This is not my mother. I am done”
I walked out of the room as he called my name
“Dayo! Dayo!!!”
I just kept walking to my room. I locked the door and curled into the bed.
That night, I missed my father more than ever.
…….
The funeral was as you would expect – big.
There were so many people from all over the world. His church folk, friends from his days at the Rotary Club, high school buddies and just random folks.
Everyone came out to pay their respects.
My mother and I didn’t stand next to each other like you would normally see in movies.
There were a few family members standing between us.
Dressed in all white, my mother said my father would not have liked us in all black, I stood and just counted down the minutes.
It was scorching hot and humid.
The sermon was long and unnecessary.
Tears rolled down my eyes as he was lowered into the ground.
Even more when I poured the dirt on the coffin.
I think it really hit me then that he was gone.
Sandra was right next to me as we turned away and headed to the car waiting for us.
There were traditional drummers singing my “praises” as we walked to the car.
They were expecting a token but all I wanted was my father back.
I got into the back of the car and just stared out of the window.
We went back to the house. Sandra and a few of my other friends were in my room with me while I laid on the bed staring at the ceiling.
What next from here?
I thought to myself.
…..
It was 3 days after the funeral.
And I was packed and ready to go. Sandra was taking me to the airport with her boyfriend Eugene.
All of my suitcases were loaded into the car.
Dimeji walked up to me and said
“Oga, you sure see you wan go like this?
At least wait make mummy come back from where she go with her friend”
I nodded and said
“Oga D, time don reach to day go.
E better like this. No wahala for anybody. Take, use this one by biscuit for Salewa and Timi”
I handed him some money in his right hand while supporting the firm handshake with my left hand.
He pulled me in and gave me a hug.
“We go miss you for here sha.”
He said with a saddened look on his face.
I forced a smile and said
“You know sen even when I day go school for that side, I day always call na.
I go day whatsapp una. “
he nodded and I lowered myself into the car.
Off we went, I remember buying Gala and Fan Yogurt on my way to the airport.
I couldn’t wait to leave all of this behind.
I was lost in thought when I heard Gaga Shuffle come on the radio, I turned and looked at Sandra who had a wry smile across her face.
We started singing as I pulled out my phone to record a snapchat video.
As I watched the playback I said,
“You know I’m going to miss you right?”
She rolled her eyes and said
“You’re going to see me in a few months. Literally less than 3 months!”
I smiled back and said
“But it feels like forever!
You better buy enough plantain chips when you are coming. Otherwise, I am turning you away at the airport!”
She chuckled and said
“Come on, you know I got you always”
We parked the car in the garage and used the trolleys to get my bags to the terminal.
Check-in was fairly smooth but for the waiting in line.
I had weighed all my bags at home and paid for the excess luggage online to save time at the airport.
The attendant asked me
“Where is your final destination?”
I replied
“Washington DC”
She smiled and handed me both of my boarding passes before tagging my bags.
I walked back to Sandra and gave her a long hug.
As I let her go, I said
“You know, I actually have time before we board, we can grab food and chill at that spot”
pointing towards a restaurant.
She smiled and said
“I wish I could but remember I have my fitting for my cousin’s wedding. Have to make it back to the Island”
I nodded and gave her another hug.
She whispered in my ear
“I love you”
I replied
“I love you too”
As I let her go and began to walk away, I heard someone call my name
“Dayo”
I stopped in my tracks and turned around. It wasn’t Sandra.
She was stopped too, trying to figure out where it came from. I looked to my left and noticed a tall and slim man in a suit approaching me.
I faced him and he smiled before saying
“Hi, sorry to interrupt”
Still puzzled, I shook his outstretched hand.
He smiled again and said
“I know you have questions…”
I then spoke and said
“Please who are you?”
He ignored my question and said
“…I had to stop you because I could not allow you to get on that flight.
You deserve to be here with the people you love. This is your home”
I was even more confused, this man knew my name and seemed to know a bit about what was going on at home.
So I asked
“Please sir, who are you?”
He moved closer and now with a straight face, he replied and said
“I am the man your mother has been in a relationship with for the past 22 years”
I froze.
Sandra yelled out
“What?!”
I couldn’t believe my ears. This ride was about to get a whole lot messier. PLEASE LEAVE ME A COMMENT BELOW!
What happens next?
Come back for Part 4 next Saturday!
Please retweet and leave a comment below. Thanks for reading!
Written by @adewus4real
Please head over to http://www.adewus4real.com for more of my original short stories and series.
Please answer the poll in the tweet below… Thank you!
Come back next week for Part 4!
#BGW #SanmiSaturdays #WTHM
I was sitting in a sexual harassment refresher about 5 years ago. My job at the time made it mandatory that everyone within the company took the training once a year.
It was the very first time I heard the phrase “it is not your intent, it’s your impact”.
Now, believe me, the first time I heard that I was like “that is selfish!”
If I’m not trying to hurt you and you get hurt, that’s your problem. Not mine!
But as he explained it further, I began to understand the responsibility placed on us as people and as people who have others we love.
Now the initial discussion was about sexual harassment right?
An example of how intent vs. impact works was imagine showing up to work tomorrow and you see Sally on your way in.
You tell Sally “I love your dress, it really brings out your figure”
In your mind, you have done something nice. Most of us would think like that. Start Sally’s day with a compliment right? Make her feel good a bit?
What happens when you find out that Sally took offense to that. Imagine for a second that Sally was having a crappy morning and her mother had criticized her weight earlier that day.
Your comment reawakening the crappy feeling she already had – impact.
Intent vs. Impact.
Since that day, I have always tried to apply the same logic to my friendships and romantic relationships.
I understand that it is human to offend but more importantly, how I approach something is the only thing I can account for.
How someone receives it, is their choice as well.
They are entitled to that.
And even when it annoys you and you feel like they are taking a piss, you have to still look at things from their end.
It is also important to be aware that while someone may offend you and that was their impact, it may not have been their intention.
The best way to look at this is how you want to be loved.
Anyone that knows me well enough knows that I hate talking about things I cannot change.
Things that aggravate me are words with no action and feeling powerless in a situation.
I used to date someone in a long distance situation that would say, “you never come to see me or even talk about it”
In their mind, my lack of dialogue around it has impacted them into thinking, I don’t care.
But that is not my intention. For one, like I explained earlier, I hate empty talk. I am a doer, if I want something, I wait till I can execute till I bring it up.
Until we had a conversation about it, she always thought I just didn’t care.
5years ago, I would have said she was being selfish for not understanding my intent but you have to communicate it.
It is also your responsibility when you love someone to afford them the benefit of the doubt.
One of my partners used to be horrible with the public display of affection and love.
I host a radio show and I expect that a woman that loves me, would listen and support weekly.
But she was one of those people in the background.
Listening but never using the hashtag or commenting. It bothered me for a while. But I had to understand that her intent was not to seem uninterested or absent.
Did it annoy me? Hell yes, but I had to see the big picture.
This also brings me to the concept of how you love people.
You have to understand your past successes in relationships count for nothing if the current one you are in is failing.
Nobody wants to be in a failed relationship or friendship but it takes work to make all of that tick.
I am pretty confident that nobody likes the idea of repeatedly saying, “that’s not what I meant”
That is part of where the work comes in. You have to be able to align your intentions and your impact.
That is one of the ways relationships/friendships are successful.
I have a friend that gets mad at me all the time for my response times to text messages. They assume that I must not care or that I am just absent.
Totally untrue but I understand where there are coming from.
I get busy, absent-minded, distracted or forgetful but at no point does any of that translate to not caring.
But it happens and people feel things.
If you love them, tell them.
Fight for them.
Support them.
Be available and
Try to be sensitive to their needs. Their concerns, frustrations.
Also, try to give them the benefit of the doubt. Do not start every thought with assuming that they are doing everything to hurt you.
If there is anything you need to remember today from this, make sure your intent and impact are as closely aligned as possible.
You won’t always get it right but you can try.
Now, if you don’t get me a gift for my birthday, the impact is that I will be very upset and NO, I don’t care about your bloody intent. 😂
Okay, just kidding.
Go out there this week and be great. Until next week, it has been WordsOfWednesday from the desk of The Wordsmith.
Bless.
Follow @adewus4real and please LEAVE ME A COMMENT BELOW! Thanks!
#WordsOfWednesday #WTHM #TheRantsShow
Black.Gay.Waiting Part 3 out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!
Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated.
