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Black.Gay.Waiting 4- The Finale.

Black, Gay, Waiting 4

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.

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© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

Fiction

Safe

#WordsOfWednesday

Safe.

I never believed in miracles
But I believed in you
My eyes glued to the door
It was like I was expectant
But then not
The hours ticked on
But the door stood firm
Shut
My phone wouldn’t buzz
And when it did
It wasn’t your call
So slowly
Optimism was replaced with hurt
A dawning realization that to you
I am not worth much
And it hurt
The tears couldn’t paint the right picture
I closed my eyes and tried to forget
And then I heard footsteps
Flinging it wide open
I scanned the hallway in both directions
Juliet was walking closely with Roscoe her dog
She turned and said hello
But it’s back in
Into a home that is now empty & extremely cold

 

Where is it?
Where is that place that you drift to?
The place you run to.
The place where you feel your feet on the ground or in the water
Where you can hear and feel your heartbeat
Where is the place where you feel safe?


For some people “Home” is where safety lies. Home can be a place or a person.
For others, its in religion, faith, work, relationships or just within themselves.

Do you know your safe place?
A little while ago, I had a conversation with someone who was very impressed by the fact that I knew where my safe place was.
I like waterfronts.
There is a serenity that they bring to me.
I love overlooking the water and seeing my thoughts fly. I love dreaming about how far in life I will go.

I have been one to find safety in my talent and my output.
The issue with that is this, as a creative, you pour so much of yourself out into your art and craft, so if people do not appreciate it, you are left reeling and sometimes spiraling.
So I learned to find safety in stable things.
The unshakable things like the purity of my soul.

So what is your safe place?
When you drift and the war of the world wages, where do you go and feel covered?

Another place I always feel safe in is the place of worship.
When I am really down and I cannot pray, I tend to just start singing worship songs.
Once I get into it, the tears typically flow and before you know it, I can pray and ask to be covered.
But sometimes, why is it so hard to go to the place of safety?
It is a familiar space, so why is it so hard to go there?


What happens when the person that is your safety becomes the stressor?

This place is hard.
It can feel deflating. You have loyalty to them, so you honestly can’t and shouldn’t let outside eyes and ears in.
But how do you deal?
When you just want to call them and let it all out but they are picking fights and making loving them so hard.
That really is when you decide to be intentional about love – for them and for yourself.
Have you ever been locked outside your own home, and there is someone inside refusing to open the door for you?
That is what it feels like to be held back from entering your safe place.
When the person you lean on is trampling on you, it can feel – helpless.

It is so important to find that safe place.
No, that bottle of wine you picked up on your way from work is not it.
Being in his arms one night out of the month is not it either. Obsessively shopping ain’t it either.
It has to be stable, it has to be able to fill you up and recharge you without leaving you wanting more.

So what is your safe place?

Leave a comment below and let me know.

Black.Gay.Waiting Part 4 out on Saturday!
Watch this space!

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

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

Black.Gay.Waiting 3

Part 3

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

© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

 

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · African · Art · Bloggers · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Nigerian Writers · Poetry · TheRantsShow

Sink OR Swim

#WordsOfWednesday
Sink or Swim

Head first in the deep,
I may sink or swim
Learning how to breathe
I end as I begin
Oh, I don’t know if I can do it, do it
I’m not sure I can do it, do it
I know I wanna do it, do it
Fuck it, I’m gonna do it, do it

Cos I gotta feeling…
(Deep inside of me)
Telling me to do it…
(Deep inside of me)

Sink or Swim by Jacob Banks

The very first time I heard the song, it was at the Jacob Banks concert. I had been slacking as a fan because I had never properly listened to the song even though I had the EP on my computer.
So the night before the show, I was watching videos to a lot of the songs I had listened to and I played it.
Very easily liked it but it still did not register.

When I got to the concert and he played the song, he had changed it.
He changed the pitch, the melody was tweaked a bit and everyone was singing along except me.
And it was in that moment I realized how much I liked the song.

So I went back home and just binged on it and that was how I fell in love.
I knew standing in that crowd and mouthing off that this song was going to define my 2018; Sink or Swim.

Many of you reading this, started this writing/blogging journey with me.
In many cases, you have watched my evolution as a writer, creative, host, and most importantly, as a man.
I think with that evolution, comes a sense of ownership.
People think I should believe in myself more and it should be reflective. They are right.

I think I am a pretty decent everything listed about. But most times, people around me see more.
More than I can and more than I am sometimes willing to admit.
I think I am a pretty good writer but not great. Same goes for hosting my show or being a big brother or anything.
I mostly operate in the above average range.
That is about to change.

2018 is my sink or swim year in many senses.
One, it is the year I venture out of my comfort zones and tell the stories that I keep locked away.
It is the year where I approach discussions and creative platforms that scare, challenge and motivate me.
It is the year I tell myself “do it” and damn the consequences.
It is the year I take the love I deserve and settle for nothing less. I have written many times about the fear of being alone. Like even in the times I was single, I was never alone.
And out of the fear of not having to walk alone, I have settled for less than I deserve. No more.
It is the year of creative exploration on a more spiritual level (Check out my current series Black.Gay.Waiting here). When I wrote Black Gay Waiting, people freaked out. Some thought I was gay, some called me gay.
But it was mostly because the story was so believable but also because I wrote it, expect more.

2018 is also the year that I allow myself to be more vulnerable spiritually. I have always hidden behind the bare minimum. “Oh just enough that God knows I love Him and I do His work” but never truly pushing the envelope like I should. Change.

WhatTheHeckMan, TheRantsShow and I have all grown over the years but in a way, I feel like we stagnated last year.
The numbers say we didn’t but maybe because I am the force behind all of those things, and I’m never content with what I have, I want to push for more and more is what we are getting.
In 2018, everything should feel like a jump off a cliff.
You obviously have a parachute in your bag but no plans to use it. You’ll jump and soar.
Glide into your victories and be miles above your enemies.

Too often, we are okay with okay.
“Okay, I think if I hit this level, I’ll be okay”
“What I have done so far, is okay jare
All very fair but there is more. There will be more. And it is okay to chase it.
2018, do not be okay with being above average because if the entire world is above average, then technically, you’re average.

I remember when I moved out of my parent’s house, what is now 9 years ago.
The plan was to split my rent.
I had gotten a part-time job and for the first 6 months, my parents were going to support me.
8 days after moving out, I lost the job.
My girlfriend at the time, bless her heart was the rock that held me through as I waited four months for another job.
It would be as a lifeguard.
I didn’t even know I could swim, until one day there was an emergency in the pool and I had to dive in and save a kid.
That is how I am approaching this year.
I don’t know if I can do it,
I am not sure if I can do it,
But I know I want to do it,
So fuck it, I AM GOING TO DO IT!

My name is Sanmi Adewunmi. You may know me as Adewus4real or The Wordsmith.
I create and I do a damn good job of it.
In 2018, I am pushing myself to the limits and challenging every person that is reading this to do the same.
Here is what will happen.
Not trying to be negative but we will fail at some things – but we will gather learnings to improve new approaches and we will succeed at many things and thrive in our best lives.
None of which won’t happen if you don’t jump in the water.

Write those goals out.
If you are religious, pray about them.
Religious or not, work hard at them.
Success will come.
It has to.

Say it with me, “In 2018 and beyond, I will thrive in everything I set my heart, my mind, my body and my soul to”
In 2018, we swim!
So get in the water.
And if you think you are going to drown, don’t worry, I gotchu.
After all, I was a lifeguard for all of 5 months!

Let’s go out there and take 2018; spiritually, financially, romantically, creatively, professionally, physically and any other kind of “cally”
This is the first WordsOfWednesday for 2018 and I promise to be more consistent with these this year.
Please retweet, comment, share and let me know if you plan to Sink or Swim this year.
Come back next Wednesday for another piece and make sure you catch the next episode of @TheRantShow before that. Also find the track that inspired my approach to 2018 below~
I appreciate you all.
2018 is ours. Part 3 of Black.Gay.Waiting will be out this Saturday! I promise! ❤️

LEAVE ME A COMMENT BELOW! START THE NEW YEAR RIGHTTTTTTT! lol

Bless & Happy New Year!

#WordsOfWednesday
#WTHM
#TheRantsShow

Black.Gay.Waiting Part 3 out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

Follow @adewus4real

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

 

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · African · African Fiction · African Stories · Art · Bloggers · Drama · Fiction · Life · Nigerian Writers · Oakland · Poetry · Stories · TheRants · TheRantsShow

Black.Gay.Waiting 2

Black.Gay.Waiting 2

PART 2

It was 6am in the morning, I was just standing out in the middle of the quadrangle and looking embarrassed.
Wet.
I was trying to understand how I missed it.
My clothes were on the window pane to my left. I had placed them there before I began to bathe myself as I prepared for school.
Why would someone do this to me?
This was only my first morning in boarding school.

I wanted the safety of my home.
My temperature controlled shower, consistent electricity, hot breakfast and just emotional safety!
Here I was thrust into the “wild”.
Anyone that experienced it will tell you straight up that it builds character and forces you to face a lot of the fears you will meet in life.
One thing it also does though, it awakens fears you never thought you had.

That cold morning, I stood there and wished I could teleport.
I swear I had seen my clothes there. Just a minute before.
Someone obviously moved it because they wanted to teach me a lesson.
I eventually made my way into my dorm and tried to forget that had happened, but it hurt.
That day, I prayed that I would never be in that kind of situation again.

Well, I have been in that situation 3 times since then but this had to be the most embarrassing.
My father, a renowned minister, was standing less than 10 feet away from me while I clutched my undergarments to protect my exposed genitalia.
Fuck!
How did this happen?
How did he know I was here?

“Pastor, I am sorry”

Micah said in whimpering tone.

“Shut up!”

My father barked back at him.

He looked up to me and said

“You are still at this?! After everything your mother and I have done for you?”

My head dropped.
He continued on

“You are a disgrace. A complete disgrace.”

It was at that point I dropped my clothes on the bed and I started putting my boxers on.
I was so tired of being called all sorts for being who I was.
My father turned to Micah and said

“…and you, I cannot believe you would do this. I never want to see you again.
Or anywhere near the church.”

He stormed out without saying another word.
I quickly put the rest of my clothes on and followed. Micah tried to grab me, I stopped and he said

“I’m sorry. This is my fault”

I smiled and gave him a kiss on his lips and then said

“Don’t be. You did nothing wrong”

as I wiped his lip.
He dropped his head and I patted his cheek as I walked out.

Walking into the parking space, my father said to me

“Give him the keys”

referring to his driver who was now standing outside to my left, right next to my car.
I wanted to ask why but I knew why.
He wanted us to ride together so he could berate me further.
I didn’t question it, I tossed my keys to Dimeji, our longtime family driver and the man that taught me how to drive.
He nodded, almost in apology and then entered my car.
I walked over to my father’s car and entered.
To my surprise, he did not say a single word during the entire ride home.

When we got home, I went straight to my room and stayed there most of the day.
I shuffled between scrolling through Twitter and watching season 4 of the Blacklist. I was basically trying everything to get my mind off what had just happened.
My mom was out of the country and returning later that night. One thing was for sure, my father was always going to tell my mother what happened.
They tell each other everything.
So I knew it was only a matter of time before she was brought up to speed.
And she was going to be home in a few hours.

…..

I was awakened by the buzzing of my phone.
I actually didn’t realize I had fallen asleep. As I answered, I tried to keep my eyes closed.
The voice on the other end was familiar. It said

“Are you ready?”

I wasn’t understanding. So I asked

“Ready for what?”

She said

“Drinks. I texted you and told you I was coming”

I hadn’t seen the text. Probably because I was sleeping. So I asked

“Where are you?”

“10mins away”

she replied

I sighed and said

“Aight, I’ll be out in a bit”

I quickly got up, brushed my teeth and then washed my face before heading out the room.
As I approached the living room, I could hear the sounds of the television – MSNBC.
That was one of my dad’s favourite channels, so I quickly put it together that he was in there.
I knew I had to walk past him and I was going to do it as quickly as possible.
As I entered the living room and was almost out of the main door, he said

“Ni bo lo da?” – translating to “where to?”

I stopped in my tracks, turned to my right where he sat and said

“I am grabbing dinner with a friend”

He squeezed his face and dismissed me with his mouth closed.
And out I was.

In the car waiting for me was Sandra.
One of my true best friends and one of the only few that knew my situation.
As I sat in the car, she turned and gave me a hug.
She followed it up by saying

“How are you?”

In that moment, I wanted to break down and cry but I mustered the strength and said

“I think I’m okay hun.
Like… I don’t know but I’d like to think that I’m good”

We chatted about her week and her boyfriend whom she felt was dragging his feet and not proposing.
I told her to be calm, after all, only 20 months of dating was never going to be enough time to know someone.
Sandra was extra like that.

As they cleared our table, Sandra asked for the check and brought out her wallet.
I looked at her with confusion and said

“What are you doing?”

She scoffed, smiled and said

“Paying. Or what does it look like?”

I was about to reply when she said

“Abeg hold that your machismo nonsense. I got this one.”

I just swallowed my words. She then asked

“So what are you going to do?”

I looked up to her and locked my fingers into each other as I said

“I honestly don’t know but I sure as hell know that I am tired.
I mean for crying out loud, I am almost 30!
I have never had sex and I have done everything my family has asked of me…but I cannot change who I am!
This is who I fucking am. Sandra it is soo tiring.
Is it my fault that my parents are pastors? Or that I like men and not women?
Like let’s get this straight, I am almost fucking thirty! Like is it because I moved back home or something?
Like I am just tired”

She nodded as I could see the sadness all over her face.
She said

“I am sorry hun. I really am.
Let me just say this though. Just continue to be yourself. We appreciate you for who you are.
I know for sure that I do, and I love you for being you”

“Thanks love.”

I replied.
Dinner and those drinks certainly helped me feel a bit better. As I rode home in the back of the Uber, I couldn’t help but think about how much I had wanted to break free.
For many years, nobody knew of my status and I truly didn’t need people to know.
I was always sure that I never wanted people to treat me any kind of way because of my sexuality. I was going to be great at anything I did without being treated differently.
But how come my home never felt like I was welcome?
My father would preach love and togetherness, being non-judgmental, forgiveness and unconditional love.
Yet, since I became an adult, those things have been far away from me.

The Uber pulled up to the gate and said

“Okay sir, we are here”

I looked up and noticed we were in front of my house.
I grew up in that house and I had come to hate that house. Every time I brought up the idea of me moving out, my mother scoffed at it and tried to make me feel bad for not wanting to live with them.
I heaved a deep sigh as I knocked on the gate for the gateman to open.

The house was quiet when I got in but the television was on.
I turned it off and went to my room. As I began taking my clothes off, I heard the gate open.
My parents were back.
I turned the lights off and got into my bed.
I heard them make their way into the house. I could hear my mom’s voice and even though I hadn’t see her in a few weeks, I decided against coming out of my room.

I heard them talking in their bedroom which was a floor beneath mine but when the house was quiet enough, it felt like they were next door.
I heard the water running. I figured my mother was taking a shower.
Sleep came calling and soon enough I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

I hadn’t been asleep for too long when I heard my door open quickly.
By the fruity scent left behind, I figured it was mom that came to check if I was awake.
I was, but I was not ready for the things that followed.

…..

Sunday mornings were always sluggish for me.
I think as I got older, I hated the pressure that came from being a PK (Pastor’s kid). So I became more distant from the church in many ways.
I would still go but I was always late or very detached. Only at the church, my parents pastored.
This morning, I woke up and I just lay there for a while.
I kept playing that day and my dad walking in.
As I replayed the day, I kept blaming myself.
Maybe I shouldn’t have slept over or maybe I should have rushed and put my clothes on as I heard my dad barge in.
I kept going through a bunch of maybes but I eventually settled on the fact that, it already happened and there was nothing I could do to change it.

When I made it to church, praise and worship was just about to start.
For the next twenty-five minutes, we sang and danced to the glory of God.
Then came the Liberty prayer and then the announcements.
The sermon was about to start when I noticed my father hand the microphone to my mother.
He wasn’t taking the sermon today.

I figured that it was because of everything that had happened over the weekend, he wanted to absolve himself of any ill feelings while ministering.
My mother got up there like she had many times before and began preaching.
She was firm, she was direct and told it as it was.

The title of her sermon was “Finding Your Way Home”
A lot of what she said convicted me, I felt like I had drifted from God.
I used to be active in the church and closer in my journey against sexual immorality.
I had promised that I would never have sex until I was married.
And even though I had dated women and almost got married to one, I was determined to wait until after I was married to have sex.
Now some of you may say, but what is the point in going on God, when you are already gay.
I wish I knew but it felt like the right thing to do within me.
And that was what I was going to do.

Midway through her sermon, I remember my mother saying

“Some of us have been so blessed by God that we stray. We let the blessings get to us and then we forget all that he has done.
We start to simplify his goodness and take it for granted.
Brethren, I encourage you to never let the elevation you have in life, make you think you no longer need God…”

I remember thinking

“hmmm, maybe I had turned on God and forgotten how much he had blessed me…”

I was in that thought when I heard my name over the loudspeakers.
I looked up and my mother was motioning me towards the altar.
I looked around to be sure.
Slowly, I got up and walked to the front of the church.

She stepped down from the altar and came up to me.
Placing her hand on my shoulder she said into the microphone

“An example of forgetting home and God’s blessings is my son here.
God has given him so much that he has forgotten God to the point that he is now engaging in sinful acts that made God burn down Sodom and Gomorrah.
My son has been participating in a homosexual relationship”

The entire church gasped.
I swear I thought I had died for a second.
It was like I was hearing a cassette tape played backwards. Everything in my head was scrambled. I was stunned.
My eyes quickly welled up and I couldn’t understand.

“How could she do this to me?”

I thought to myself.
I turned and people in the congregation had their hands covering their mouths in shock.
Something in me wanted to run but I couldn’t.
My mom continued and said

“It is important that when people are trying to lead you back to Christ, you take note because you can be lost in the world”

As she finished, someone got up in the second row and said

“Abeg what is all this nonsense?
Is this what we came to church for?”

My mother, microphone to her lips, said

“Excuse you?”

And the man continued and said

“Yes, is this why we came to church. So you can air your personal drama?
We come for the word, not this theatrics.
Besides, this is not news at least not to your family. Your husband always knew and he has known for a while now, so why are you here lying to us.
Please let us hear word”

My mother, surprised, turned around and looked at my father.
He rose up with his head hung low.
He took two steps forward and then he slumped. My father died that morning.

What happens next?
Come back for Part 3 next Saturday!
Please leave a comment below. Thanks for reading!

Please leave me a comment or tweet at me here@adewus4real! Feedback is EVERYTHING~Thanks!

The End.

Part Three next Saturday and ready to drop! @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated.
Thanks for the love and

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

Black.Gay.Waiting

#BGW

Music: Unknown (To You) by Jacob Banks

“I don’t know if I am allowed to say this but I love your smile.
Ethnic people are just so beautiful”

I tried to force a smile back as I looked down to this old white lady that thought she had just paid me a compliment.

“Thanks”

I muttered back with my “professional” smile plaster across my coconut oiled face.

“You know, I have friends from Africa.
What part of Africa are you from?”

I was shocked that she had even continued to talk to me.
They called out my name from behind the register.

“Tall chai latte for Dee”

I excused myself from the conversation with the lady and I walked to the counter, grabbed my drink and without saying a word to her, I walked out of the Starbucks.

That night as I took a shower, my mind flashed back that interaction that morning.
I suddenly became annoyed.
That was normal, people saying inappropriate and culturally insensitive things.
That was my entire time living in Boston.

There were two schools of people – the ignorant but sometimes well meaning group and the downright racist/white supremist quarter.
Overall, I hated Boston but I understood why my Nigerian parents sent me there for school.
My father went to Law School. His brother and family that I would spend most holidays with, currently live in Boston.
My mother taught for years in central Baltimore. The only things she loved more than those white kids she taught were my siblings and I, my dad and her commute to work.
You never messed with my mothers radio or her Ebenezer Obey cds in the car.

After graduation, I moved to New York for a few years, working out of a mid level law firm.
Yes, I took after my dad.
And as some of you may be able to relate, I had no choice.

I didn’t like practicing law but I didn’t hate it either. I passed the bar on my second go and I was making good money.
The people I worked with were decent and they made the days go by.
But I knew I was only buying time.

….

“It’s 300k.”

My friend Duke tried to tell me.

“Huh?”

I replied as I didn’t hear him clearly.

“The total is 300k”

He repeated.

“Did you factor in a tip?”

I asked.

He nodded.
I pulled out my card and handed it to him.

“Put it on here”

I said to him as he took it from me and turned.
It was my birthday dinner and everyone was eating and having a good time.
I hate birthday dinners.
On one end, you can plan and people will flake or you can’t accurately split the bill.
Everyone knows that people always forget their drinks and tip.
So I had deduced that whenever I had one, I would either be blessed to have a sugar daddy that would handle the bill or I was going to do it myself.

It was the latter.
We did pictures shortly after.
I had picked up my friends Sandra and Bisoye from Ikoyi on my way to the dinner, so I had to drop them off before heading to my parents in Surulere.

My mother was the type that wanted to make sure that I attended services whenever I was in town.
She used to say “you need know God before you need God” or the line I loved so much, “how do you expect to hold your home together if you don’t have a vibrant prayer life?”
Yes, my mother was the typical Pentecostal bible believing mother.
My father wasn’t always there for direct interaction. Leading growing church and law firm can be challenging sometimes.
But fear not, he was just as influential as my mother.
Overbearing, loving, kind, annoying and everything in between.
Those were my parents and I loved them so much.

And that was how much I loved and appreciated everyone that came out to celebrate with me.
After the last set of pictures, I said out loud

“Thank you all for coming. I truly appreciate it. You guys are awesome.”

Hugs and pecks as I headed towards the car.
Sandra is obsessed with 2Face Idibia’s latest track, Gaga Shuffle and it didn’t help that she worked at one of the top radio stations.
She would never stop going on about it!
So we knew as we entered the car that she was going to start playing the song.

Together we belted out the first line “As I want craze, I want involve you for my f-ing craze”
Such a tune!
Sandra’s calling was to be in music. No doubt.
I love sharing songs with her, she knows almost every song!
If it’s on the radio or has the potential to get there, Sandra knows it.

I looked into the rear view mirror and Bisoye has fallen asleep.
It was like a curse. Once Bisoye enters a car and she is not the one driving, sleep is what happens next – always!
Sandra and I teased as Bisoye mumbled some words out of her sleep.
It is exactly as you imagine it, the cutest thing ever but also the most consistent thing whenever we all got into the car together.
About twenty minutes later, I was peeling out of their apartment complex. Sleep was creeping up on me as I got back on the Third Mainland Bridge.
I had probably gone about 5 miles when I heard a loud thud. I went another mile as I tried to guess what had happened.
At first thought, I figured I must have run over something or hit something but as I drove on, I felt my car begin to wobble.

Everyone knows that late at night in Lagos is not the time for your car to be having issues. So as I pulled over, I was very frustrated.
On one hand, this was probably money I didn’t need to spending that would be going to that repair and on the other hand, I just wanted to sleep!
Upon closer inspection as I stepped out of the car, I noticed that one of my tires had blown out.
This was going to be a short while but I knew how to change a tire from watching my father do it.
I locked the car and walked to the trunk as I opened it, I noticed that the jack that was needed to change the tire was missing.
I could scream!
I knew someone in my house must have gone in there and failed to return it, now here I was stuck on this dangerous bridge in the crack of the night.

I walked to the passengers side and unlocked the car.
Immediately, I called the person I knew would answer.

“Deacon, I need your help”

….

He showed up about 30 minutes later and very soon the tire was changed.
As I was about to get into the car, he said

“You can come to my place since I know your estate will be closed by now”

I paused and thought about it, he was right. The security team at my apartment was notorious for stressing my life out whenever I returned late.

“Okay, lets go”

He handed me an oversized shirt at his apartment while I connected to the wifi.

“you can take the bed, while I sleep on the couch”

I shook my head and replied,

“You don’t have to do that”

He quickly replied

“I just know what you said the last time and I was trying to honor that”

I nodded and said

“I remember what I said but as long as you respect yourself, we should be good”

He said

“Okay”

I headed into the bathroom to wash my face and then into the bed. He was still in the living room when I got in.
At this time, it was 3am and I was super tired.
I knocked out pretty quickly after.

I must have been asleep for about an hour when I felt a strong arm come around my midsection. He pulled me close.
His arm was strong, warm and I remember how safe I used to feel in his hold.
A part of me wanted to break away because I had warned him, but I also really liked his touch.
I stayed put and awake.
A few minutes later, I could feel his rising member between my cheeks.
I was getting turned on, even though I knew I wanted to fight it.
A few moments later, he turned me around and passionately kissed me.
I could taste the cheesecake I brought over with me on his lips.
His tongue was strong like his hands. It searched me and I got weak.

He was on his side with his right arm across my midriff.
He tasted so good and I just sunk into his arms. It was like his mattress was suddenly softer than a cloud and I was free falling.
It had been a while, a long while since someone took charge of my physical and made me lose myself.

He began to kiss my neck and I was losing it.
I was really excited now. His tongue licked behind my left ear.
It ticked and pushed me further off the ledge.
I wanted more, so I don’t know where the words “we have to stop” came from.
He pulled back and towering over me, he said

“You don’t want to?”

I closed my eyes and said

“I just don’t know… I’m just worried we will get into this space again… you know”

He pulled further back and said

“I understand. I’m sorry”

I quickly replied and said

“Don’t apologize. Its not just you. It has to be both of us”

He didn’t say anything else.
He laid on his back staring at the spinning ceiling fan with the light from the DVR partially illuminating the room.
I turned over on my left side and stared out of the window.
I won’t lie to you, I so badly wanted him to grab me again. I know what I said but I wanted the opposite at that moment.

I thought he had fallen asleep when I said

“Micah”

He didn’t even say anything, I heard a grunt.
And I turned and planted a wet one on his lips.
He ran his hand under his t-shirt I was wearing. That was it!
Our lips locked and it felt so good.
So good, I was annoyed when he turned me over and spooned me.
Until he spread my cheeks and slid into me.
He belly was cold but he breath was warm and his throbbing member was anything but.
With each thrust, he spread me wider and I grabbed a handful of the sheets in my right hand.
My moans were subdued. It was very late and his window was open.
But I wanted to scream.
It had been so long and naturally it hurt a little. And I loved it.
I could feel him pulse and I moved my hips to match his stride.
It was satisfying as he filled me up.
He pumped and grunted before panting for air.
I turned over and snuggled into his chest. I could hear his heart beating.
He wrapped his arm around me and it was only moments before he knocked out.
I placed my leg over his and that is the last I remember of the night.

…..

Thud…Thud…Thud.
I ignored it.
Thud…Thud… Thudddddd.
I thought I was dreaming but I slowly started to come into my consciousness.
Then I realized the noise was actually outside.
I sprung up, only to see Micah getting up as well. I said

“What is going on?”

He motioned with his left hand and said

“Hold on.
I’ll go check”

He grabbed his robe hanging off the inside of the open closet door and put it on.
Out the room he marched, leaving it slightly ajar.
I heard him put on his slippers and head towards the door.
I hated how he dragged his feet. It was always a pet peeve of mine.
Still surprised me how I developed feelings for a man that did something I hated so much.

I heard the front door open.
I actually thought it was someone that he owed money or maybe his car was blocking someone from leaving out the parking lot.
As the door opened I heard someone say very loudly

“Where is he?! Where is he?!
I know you have my son in here”

I recognized that voice – it was my father.
It took a second for what was happening to register, so there was a delay in my head.
Before I could jump up and put my clothes on, my father barged into the room
There was midway hunched over trying to grab my boxers. Butt ass naked.
I turned and looked straight and my father.
A lagging Micah was behind as he said

“Pastor, I can explain”

All I could say was

“Daddy”

Please leave me a comment or tweet at me here@adewus4real! Feedback is EVERYTHING~Thanks!

The End.

Part Two is already done and ready to drop! @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated.
Thanks for the love and support.

Stay up

#SanmiSaturdays
© 2017 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WordsofWednesday · Bloggers · Fiction · Life · Poetry

You Deserve It!

I am so blessed.
I think I just need to start out with that. I am so undeservingly blessed, it baffles me.
Before anything else, I would love to join my faith with yours and pray that whatever it is you are waiting on God for, he will come through for you.

Now to why you are really here.
Yes you, the ones who… nvm. I’ll come back to you.

On Friday March 4th last year, I got a promotion at my job.
I was so excited. I told all my friends, family and even testified at church two days later.
Less than 3 hours after I had testified that Thanksgiving Sunday at church, my apartment went up in flames.
And I was plunged into unexpected debt.
My “best friend” at the time was a Godsend who opened a GoFundMe and helped me halve the debt I would eventually pay.
Why did I put best friend in air quotes you ask?
More on that later.

Last week Friday, just like last year, I got a job.
Not a promotion, an elevation.
New level. New status. New tax bracket. New grace.
But this time around, I was hesitant to celebrate and testify. Last year, the devil tried to steal my job.
I was in so much pain from losing everything that I didn’t even enjoy the promotion high.
This year, he tried to strike again. This time coming for my emotional happiness.

This is the short of it.
I reached out to someone I cared about out of concern and they essentially tried to make me seem like I was trying to tear them down or whatever.
My friend is mad at me because she saw this coming from a mile away but I guess I gave this person way more credit.
My friend said “I don’t know how you can still talk to someone like that. Someone that has publicly bashed you, trashed your name and even done full shows about you.”
I was broken.
Annoyed.

It has always been a flaw of mine – my ability to forgive.
Like I know this person has hurt me many times and I still forgive and somehow I am the bad guy?
And do not get me wrong, I AM NOT A VICTIM OR A SAINT.
But there are levels brethren. That I would never stoop to.
So here I was sitting in church on Sunday morning, preparing to give God thanks for what he had done in my life and suddenly, I am distracted by irrelevancies.

That is the devil at work ladies and gentlemen.
Less than 48hours before, I had got a career/life-changing opportunity, now here I am typing about this nonsense!
Do you see him work?

So no!
No more.
I am too blessed, too favored, too lifted to stoop low.

……

On Saturday, I had the privilege of watching Nathaniel Bassey minister live.
I swear I was so moved.
I have never been more thankful to be in his presence.
Nathaniel is anointed but one of the songs he sang touched me. I had always known the chorus of the song but not the verse.
The name of the song is “This God is too Good ft. Micah Stampley” by Nathaniel Bassey.
It says

I know a God, who’s merciful and kind
Faithful and gracious
I’m the apple of his eyes
The thought that fills his heart
Every Morning, noon and night
He loved me when I didn’t care
And was patient till I came
Running back into his arms
Look how he turned my life around
Made me a shining star
His glory to reveal

I will worship Him forever
Love Him forever because
This God is too good oh

 

Look, the chorus is moving but lifting.
One thing I have prayed for since 2015 is that God’s will always be done in my life.
Finally, I could say that there is progress there. In me allowing him to do his thing.
This job I got, I applied on September 28th and I was offered the job on October 5th.
That literally is the fastest I have ever gotten anything!
It is not like I didn’t know that I was going to be blessed but the timing of it is impeccable.

I needed God to come through!
And he did in the most spectacular way.
So why would I let the devil steal my joy?

Sometimes God is trying to save you and you are trying to sabotage yourself.
Like God is taking certain people and things away from you and you are walking right back to it.
He only elevates. Like, believe that. He only elevates.
DO NOT DEMOTE YOURSELF.
Sometimes you are not on the same intellectual level, not in the same tax bracket, not on the same emotional level – so why interact?

Imagine loving a woman and you are talking to her about her business plans and how she wants to conquer a market, move to senior management at her job, buy a house and then you are trying to interact with someone that cannot hold employment for more than two months.
Anyone in their right mind knows where their focus should be.
DO NOT DEMOTE YOURSELF.

You deserve happiness.
You deserve peace.
You deserve community.
You deserve genuine love.
You deserve every good thing.

Now this is not to knock anyone’s hustle but when God is writing your story, do not be consumed by the footnotes or scribbles in the margins.
Focus on the big picture and his blessings for you.
Stick to his plan and uproot anything that will derail you. And if you are not strong enough to, ask him to take it away – even if that is forceful.

 

I look around me and I see God blessing me and mine.
In the space of one week, the following happened.

A hard-working nurse emerged.
An internship with potential for full-time employment at graduation was given to a sibling.
My mother celebrated another year on God’s green Earth.
My best friend got a fitting job.
I got a new job.
I was under the profound anointing and truly blessed.
Cousins and aunts celebrated birthdays.
Healing was afforded to a broken marriage.

Do you see?
That is what God did around me in the space of one week. People, when I say I am blessed, I am blessed!
So how can he be doing this around me and I want to let it be snatched from me.
I am soooooo happy for what he has done.
Even when I am faithless and unfaithful, he remains a favoring God.

Look, I am not deserving o but he chose to call me his own.
And I truly grateful.
One thing I have learned though is know your worth.
As God elevates you, it is not even arrogance but there are just certain people you should never interact with.

You are blessed beyond doubt. Move like so.
And the cool part is that even when you think you are not deserving.
You deserve his mercy.

…….

Delay is not denial
Your blessing is coming

Forever, his word is settled. In heaven it is settled and so shall it be on Earth.

Be patient but hungry in your spirit.
Know he will come through but don’t get lazy and not remind him to come through

Keep the promises you make to him.
I promised to pay my tithes more faithfully. And that is something I plan on doing.
So while you are begging him, you’re probably making promises about what you will do when he blesses you.
Well, do it once he blesses you and he surely will.

Join your faith with others around you believing God. No man is an island.
We need people and when we all go to God and lobby for a thing, he is more likely to answer.

Random Thought: The only thing worse than a curve, is someone that tries to make it seem like they curved you when they know you… nvm. Let me just be calm.
I have Yoruba demon tendencies. A horrible temper which has gotten better this year btw.
I can be dismissive, reductive and downright rude and disrespectful.
But none of that defines me. I am still a blessed kid.

I will say this though, my name is Sanmi, blessed and highly favored.
More importantly, too blessed to lose my happiness.
And that is one truth given. 😊
I remain the Wordsmith.
Check back for my new series starting this Saturday titled…
Come back on Saturday to find out and follow me on Twitter at @adewus4real to learn more about the new series.

Till next time ladies and gentlemen; its WordsOfWednesday.
Stay up!

My New Series will be out on Saturday!
Please watch this space! It will be fire!

Follow @adewus4real

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2017 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · African · African Fiction · African Stories · Art · Bloggers · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Nigerian Writers · Oakland · Poetry · Sex · Stories · TheRants

Against Counsel – Part 4

The Last Stop…

Against Counsel
Part IV

It felt like an eternity.
I was staring out the window and watching the cars on the busy street. My eyes would fix on a particular car or person and track them till they moved out of the show.
I didn’t want to turn around.
My eyes were swollen from all the crying I had done in mere minutes.

So here I was for years, fasting and praying that God would give me something from someone who was doing everything within his power to hinder me.
Life.
Tobias broke the silence

“Adeola, let me explain”

I didn’t turn around yet.
He continued

“There is just a lot that I should have told you sooner and I am deeply sorry”

I swallowed hard.
My saliva was thick and I could feel a slight headache coming on, still looking outside the window and without turning, I said

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

He paused and then began to say

“You will never know the amount of guilt and sadness that I have held over the years. I have always wanted to tell….”

I turned and yelled

“Are you kidding me?
9 years Toby! (I called him Toby)
Nine years, I slaved, prayed and bled to give you a child and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell me?!
Are you fucking serious?”

I was barely able to get the words out as I was losing my voice

“Adeola, I promise I never planned to hurt you.
Do you know how it feels to live in a prison of life?
Pretending to be somebody else and trying to convince yourself that you are not who you think you are.
Marrying you was a mistake because I should have known who I was.. Falling in love with you was not one.
You have to believe that I wished I could tell you but I was a coward.
Afraid of what coming out to you would mean. The woman I shared sacred vows with….”

I couldn’t contain my tears but I let his words sit for a few seconds and then I said

“Those vows mean nothing because they were based on a lie.
A vey important lie.
did you always know before we got married that you were not attracted to women?”

 

His face seemed to drop.
He took a deep breath and said

“I had an idea but I was never really sure.
Some people thought it was a phase and that I would grow past it once I got married.
It subsided for a while but ultimately I wasn’t happy.
Not by any fault of ours but because I needed a different kind of love.
I should have told you and the fact that I couldn’t is all on me. Not you”

Honestly I wanted to say more but I was so broken.
This was a rollercoaster ride that I wanted to stop but I couldn’t.
But I had to know

“How long were you with him? And why did you get a vasectomy? We could have still had a child.”

 

He shook his head and said

“No we couldn’t. My count was low.
I had checked a year into our marriage. I also did not want to bring a child into this world to a life of lies and only to be confused.
That would be selfish on another level… As for the partners, I have only had two.
I was with one for about 2years until Abike threatened to expose me to you, if I didn’t stop… and then I started back up about year ago with the boy that works with you.”

I turned sharply towards Abike and screamed

“What?!… You knew he was cheating?! And you didn’t tell me?!”

She looked shell shocked.
Eyes big and wide, she froze.

…..

“Abike! Abike!”

She snapped out of her trance and muffled

“Hmmm”

“What is he saying?!!!”

I snarled back at her.
She was still frozen like a deer in headlights.

“Abike, I swear to God, if you don’t open your mouth….I will slap the shit out of you!”

I yelled at her.
Then she spoke.

“Yes!
I knew. I fucking knew and everyone knew.
We just wondered how you never knew…
….there was one evening when I came to drop something off for you. You had given me the keys because both of you were supposed to be out of town.
I walked in on your husband giving a man a blowjob. I was furious.
I wanted to tell you but you were so happy…so in love…I wasn’t going to be the one to take that away from you.
….And like he said, he apologized and promised he wasn’t going to do it again. I figured we would all move past it and it was a mistake”

 

Now I was angry!

“A mistake? A fucking mistake?
Do you think I would call it a fucking mistake if I walked in on your husband blowing another man?!
A mistake?! Wow… I have never heard anything more stupid in my life!”

She raised her hands in a pacifying motion and said

“Adeola, I said this already.
Nobody wants to be a home wrecker. I didn’t know how to say anything.”

“You are my sister! my fucking sister, Abike!
I don’t care about a stupid home if my own sister cannot tell me when the walls are crashing down.
You betrayed my trust…. I can’t even believe all of this. I just can’t.
This is too much”

I started to move towards the door when Abike said

“Sis Adeola, I am really sorry. Please believe that I am and I Want to to do everything within my power to make this better. If you will just allow me to try.”

I turned around as I grabbed my purse and I said

“You see that is your problem. You all continue to take and give nothing.
I have been there for you in countless ways, I love your children like they are my own.
Yet you have taken all of my happiness from me.
I am at a junction in my life….*tears*…. where I should be leaning on you the most and here I am finding the most heart wrenching things about my life through the lenses of other people.
You are my sister for crying out loud.
….. I am pregnant with a child that I know nothing of his father. For all I know, it could be this one or the Lord visited me in the middle of the night because I know I haven’t been with anyone else.
And I have cancer Abike!
Cancer that I only just found the strength to fight. So no, I will not be giving you any chances to do anything here.”

 

As I tried to leave, Lizzy, who had been standing in the corner started to move towards the door with me.
Tobias reached and tried to hold me.

“Don’t touch me.”

I tearfully said and then I heard Abike’s voice

“Wait!”

I stopped in my tracks.
She continued and said

“Since you are going to be leaving, there is something you should know now.”

Her husband Kunle looked at her very surprised and said

“Really, you want to tell her now?”

She bowed her head and said

“I have to.”

I was intrigued.
I shut the door and turned, holding my purse in front of me with both hands.

“What is it?”

I asked
She was already crying heavily which always broke my heart. She sniffled a few times and then she said

“I know the father of your child”

……

Pause for a second.
Have you ever been in the middle of a bad dream, and something bad was about to happen but you let it play its course, because you knew it was a bad dream?
Okay.
Now, have you ever been wide awake and watching life move right in front of you, like a bad dream?
Like everything that is happening is mortifying and you cannot stop it?

“Who?”

I finally asked
She looked over to her husband and he dropped his head.

“Abike, who?!”

She dropped her head and said

“Kunle”

Tobias charged at him and almost got physical with him.
Abike jumped in between them.
I had to sit down and then she said

“Please don’t hate me.
But Kunle is the father”

I was stunned but confused

“Abike, what are you saying?”

She started to explain

“I have seen first hand your struggle to have a baby.
After I caught Tobias with the man, I confronted him and in there, he told me that he most likely would not be able to have children because his count was low.
I watched you cry and beg God for a child and I know how much you wanted one….

….So I asked Kunle. He was initially against it and he even got angry with me for suggesting it.
But I was able to convince him.
I knew you would never step out of your marriage and I figured Tobias was the problem. So Kunle eventually did it.”

I stood up and I was the one who charged at her.
Tobias and Lizzy grabbed me as I screamed

“What?!
You had your husband rape me?!”

“Noo… nooo…. I just thought that it would be better.
To keep it in the family. I was never going to say anything.
I just wanted you to be happy. I swear that I was never looking to hurt you. I thought I was helping.”

I looked over to Kunle and I asked

“Is this true?”

He nodded.
I really felt violated. Like someone tore open my insides and had it on display for the whole world to see.
Even though it was months later, I still felt like I had been robbed of a certain innocence.
Why?
Why was this happening to me?

What did I ever do to have my life so difficult?
I believe in God and I truly felt like I was doing the right things in life.
This was too much.
I spent my life helping people put their marriages together and here I was losing everything that I built.

I didn’t even know what to say anymore.
I stood up and walked out of the room. Lizzy followed closely.
As we entered the hallway, Abike, Tobias and Kunle followed me. I heard Abike say wait but I kept walking.
She said it again.

I stopped, and tearful I asked

“How?”

She didn’t answer. The hallway had nurses and people that had been listening to all that happened in the room.
I asked her again

“How?!”

She said

“A few times when you came over, I spiked your drink and you were out cold.
I promise, I wasn’t trying to hurt you!”

With heavy tears pouring out of my eyes, I said

“I pray you all rot in hell.”

…….

That afternoon was the last I saw of those three.
Lizzy and I soon came to Atlanta together as I continued treatment.

I remember on our flight from Lagos, I kept thinking of all the signs I missed again.
The waking up sore at Abike’s house or being told not to marry him but ignoring all warnings. I blamed myself.

I went against every counsel as a young woman because I thought I was in love.
Now I am not encouraging anyone to simply accept the advice of anyone that has something to say about your romantic life but certainly evaluate everything.

I felt a certain peace in my heart that Toby was now happy with whoever he wanted to be with and he didn’t have to continue looking over his shoulder.
Love should never feel like a prison.
I felt a new dawn coming for me.
I was very uncertain about how it would all play out but I knew that this time around, I would be directing my own movie- how I wanted to.

“Are you ready?”

Lizzy asked, I nodded and smiled yes.

They wheeled me into the OR shortly after.
The doctor looked at me and said

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?
With your situation, you may never be able to have children of your own”

I nodded and said

“I’m sure”

On July, 21st 2017, I aborted the 4 month pregnancy.

For about an hour that night, I sat down in the shower and I just cried.
I cried so hard.
My hair was falling out from all the chemotherapy and I was feeling weak.
No guilt from the decision I made because I felt it was the right one.
I was never going to bring a child into this world under those circumstances.
The last few months had been nothing short of a rollercoaster ride.

I stood up and dried myself off.
Walking into the living room, Lizzy was walking out of her room as well.
In her hand, she was holding a pregnancy test stick. She had pushed back her wedding after everything that happened to come to Atlanta with me.
She looked at me, I looked at the stick, we looked at each out and my heart warmed.
I walked over to her and hugged her tight.
I couldn’t sobbing as she did the same in my arms.
If this was full circle, I’m glad.
For as long as I lived, I would love that baby like it was mine.
To love, to cherish, to counsel, to adore; against every obstacle and every odd.

The End.

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 Against Counsel series with me! I throughly 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.

Stay up

#SanmiSaturdays
© 2017 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · African · African Fiction · African Stories · Art · Bloggers · Drama · Fiction · Life · Stories · TheRants

Against Counsel – Part 3

Against Counsel
Part III

A cloud hovered over the home. There was a dreary silence that consumed the place.
It was palpable.
You could almost touch the discomfort around the house.
She barely said anything, my sister.
The evening dragged along, I couldn’t wait for the night to come.
I know my sister.
She is the type to not speak when she is upset or angry. Mostly out of the fear of being hurtful but this was different, she was hurt into silence.

We put the girls to sleep together. As we walked out of their room, she started to move faster, I lunged to grab her.
She shook off my reach and ran into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.
She slid down behind the door and I could hear it.
Her tears.
My heart shattered.

“Abike, please open the door”

She didn’t respond.
I could hear her sobbing louder. Her husband approached the hallway but stood at a distance.

“Sis, I know you are upset. Please can we just talk?”

She sniffled and said

“go away! I don’t want to talk to you…”

I quickly quipped back

“I am not going anywhere until you open this door”

She went silent for a moment and then I heard her shuffle on the floor. The door opened.
I walked in and I turned to my left. There she sat on the floor, her back on the door.
She was crying.

I walked to the right of the room and sat on the bed.

“Abike, I am sorry.”

She looked up at me, almost like my words were a verified lie and said

“Sorry?
You kept all of this from me. Me????
Of all people! I come to you with everything!
Everything! I tell you all that is going on with me and my life and you keep this from me?!
And now you want to claim that you are sorry?!
How am I supposed to take that Adeola? How?!”

I was already crying when she stopped talking. I was trying to find the right words to explain everything but all I could come up with was

“I am sorry”

She stood up and said

“Stop saying that!”

I snapped and yelled as I got up

“What do you want me to say?!!!!
What do you fucking want me to say?!…. How was I supposed to pick up the phone and tell my little sister that my husband of almost a decade has been cheating on me with another man, or that I am dying?! Tell me how!

….I understand this is hard for you but come on!
I am the one who is dying here and it’s not even the cancer that has been killing me, it’s having to hide and put on a front that I am fine when I am clearly not. That’s the painful part. So cut me some slack….

 

…..I’ve lived this life and nothing to show for it. A wrecked home and I’m leaving the ones I love. Everything I worked hard for, I’m losing.”

I slumped back onto the bed and she walked up to me.
As she sat next to me on the bed, she placed her hands around me and said

“I’m sorry sis. I’m scared”

Tears down both our faces, as we leaned our heads into each other.
We just sobbed together.
Suddenly she stopped and she looked at me.
I turned my head to the right and looked at her. Both of us at eye level and then she said

“I don’t know how yet, but we are going to beat this thing”

All i could say in reply was

“Thank you”

……

I was babysitting the girls on a Saturday night while their parents attended a church event. I believe I was scrolling through Facebook – something I had done significantly less because it always reminded me of how much I didn’t have.

Wunola made a noise because her sister hit her arm. I quickly sprang up from my seat.
They quickly resolved the issue and as I sat back down, I realized that children were something I was not going to have.
There was already pain of not having children for so long. In a weird way, there was some relief.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to have children after all. Like it was all God’s plan.
Imagine a world where I had to leave a child behind?
I firmly believe that it would have hurt me even more than I was feeling in that moment.

I kept thinking about my life and my “legacy”.
For some, it is to leave a business behind that thrives and makes wealth for their children.
For some, it is to be impactful and be remembered for good things.
I think it was in that moment I really realized that there was more to do in life even without children and a husband.
I loved these little girls and I had done so much for myself already.
I looked down at them and I whispered to myself

“I’m going to beat this thing”

…..

The next morning, I was up very early.
Before everyone in the house. It was around 4am.
I was just staring at the ceiling and wondering how things could have been different.
Would it have been different if I had married someone else?
Stayed in the States?
Become a lawyer instead of a counselor?

Thoughts ran through my head.
I began to remember when Tobias and I were first picking baby names when I first thought I was pregnant.
This was two years into our marriage.
There was no way I could have seen all of this coming. Tobias was so excited. He was sure we would have girls and he would protect them.
You should have seen the way his face would light up as he painted a perfect future for our children.
I was in dreamland.
Now here I was trying to figure out if I had been played all along.

As preacher of “the signs are always there”, I felt like I had let myself down.
There was such guilt and disappointment in myself and my choices.
But then I remembered all the times I was being put down for not having children and how he held me up.
He was really there for me.
So how do you fake that?

 

I remember a night when we got into a heated fight.
It was about the fact that he went out with his boys and didn’t contact me for almost two days.
He explained that he just needed time. I started wondering why he would do that.
Was he already seeing that man then?
A part of me wanted answers, so I picked up my phone and I dialed out.
A sleepy Lizzy picked the phone on the other side.
I spoke as she muffled

“Hello”

My reply was short

“Let my clients know that I am back at work starting Monday”

She smiled and said

“Yes ma”

You are right, I changed my mind. The past didn’t deserve my energy.
The future needed all of what I had left, if I was going to beat this thing.

……

I returned to work the following week and I was crushing it.
My body was struggling to keep me up. I would randomly get weak but I couldn’t stop fighting.
Lizzy recommended treatment abroad and I was starting to consider going to stay with my cousin in Atlanta.

She drove me to my check up at the hospital.
As we were talking, I started to feel like myself in my mind but clearly not in my body.
The doctor came in and asked if I wanted Lizzy to be present as he shared the results, I told him I was fine with it.
He was about to read them to me, when we heard a knock on the door.

The door slowly opened and Abike and her husband peered into the room.
Smiles on their faces as they came in.

“What are you guys doing here?”

I asked as I kissed Abike on the cheek.
She smiled and said

“Uhh… we came to support you. Duh…”

I felt so warm inside.
The doctor, smiling, asked if I wanted him to come back to read the results, I told him no.
This was my family and my backbone.
As he again was about to start, he was interrupted. This time by Abike.
She said

“Sis, I know you are probably going to hate me for this but I think there is something you need to do before all this.
well someone you should speak to”

I rolled my eyes.
They ambushed me.
I was trying to be annoyed when the door opened and Tobias walked in with my favorite flowers.
I quickly said

“If you think a bouquet of flowers will do anything, then you are grossly mistaken”

He placed them on the bed and said

“Adeola, I am really sorry for all that has happened….

…I want to be here for you as much as I can. Please forgive me and give me the chance to fight this thing with you. Please…”

I looked up at him and said

“There is so much we need to talk about before any of that can happen and I can’t do that right now…

…Doc, please read the results. This is my ex-husband but this saves me the trip of explaining the updates to him”

Everyone in the room was quiet.
The doctor broke the awkward silence and said

“Well… from the last time you were here, we found some irregularities in the test.
That was why we had you come in again, so soon.
…Ummm from these tests that we just ran. We found out that you are 2 months pregnant.”

The entire room gasped.
My heart sunk. What was this going to mean?
What would happen to this unborn being?
I finally said

“Run the test again”

As I finished, he said

“I expected you to be shocked, which is why I had the test run three different times in our facility and one time in a neighboring facility.
Miss Adeola, you are pregnant. Congratulations”

The doctor excused himself and as the door shut behind him, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
What a nightmare!
As I was trying to get back on track, life throws this at me again.

I looked around and everyone was in shock. No one was able to say a word.
A few seconds went by and then I looked up to Tobias and said

“I guess you’re going to be a daddy after all”

His face got sullen and he said

“I don’t think that’s what is going to happen here unfortunately”

I asked

“What do you mean?

He replied and said

“I am just being transparent thats all. That baby is not mine”

I got up from my seat and slapped him.

“How dare you?!”

I muttered to him.

“What do you mean this baby is not yours?

He said

“Because this is not my child. I got a vasectomy 5 years ago.
No way in hell that baby is mine”

The whole room froze and I felt my soul exit my body. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Lizzy squealed and I asked

“Will you be here next week for the concluding part of this series?”

I hope to find you here. Don’t worry, catch your breath and I’ll meet you back here next week for the concluding part of this captivating series.
It’s WTHM and #SanmiSaturdays

Against Counsel – Part 3 by The Wordsmith @adewus4real

Thanks for the love and support.
Stay up

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

#SanmiSaturdays
© 2017 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · African · African Fiction · African Stories · Art · Bloggers · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Nigerian Writers · Oakland · Poetry · Sex · Stories · TheRants

Against Counsel – Part 2

I just stood there, staring at them.
Motionless.
I wanted to move, but I couldn’t.
My therapist would later say it was due to the shock I felt and I have to agree.
How could he?
How could he stoop so low?
How could he do that me after everything?

My face was blank as he covered up himself up with the bed sheets.
He stretched out his hands and said,

“Babe, let me explain!”

I didn’t let him finish, instead, I turned to the left towards the man standing there.

Right then it struck me, I knew who he was!

As I turned to him, he ducked and tried to hide his face.

I moved closer to him and said,

“Turn the fuck around!”

He failed to move.

I walked up behind him and placed my hand on the back of his right shoulder and made him turn around.

I was right. I knew him, I just wasn’t sure where from.

I squinted while I looked at him and said,

“Where do I know you from?”

His head down and turned away. As he turned, it struck me.

My eyes grew big as I gasped,

“Aren’t you Susan’s brother?!”

He turned and bolted for his clothes. Susan was one of my employees and her brother had interned for me a few years prior.

I started laughing sarcastically as my husband approached me.

“You are such a dog!
Worse than the filth of this Earth! Oh my God!
How did I ever think to marry you?”

I headed for the door as he reached for me. His left arm touched me. I turned and screamed,

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!!!”

I stormed out of the room.

On my way out of the house, I stopped by the living room and grabbed my iPhone charger.
It wasn’t until after I had been held up in traffic and driving for about 10 minutes, that I began to I broke down.
Tears were streaming down my face, I felt broken.
Shattered.

I kept asking myself  two questions, “Why?” and “What will people think of me?”

I felt like my world was crumbling around me.
I was so lost in thought that I didn’t realize when traffic started moving. The car behind me honked, and I stepped on the gas a little too hard and I bumped into the car in front of me.

…..

I called my driver who I had just dismissed earlier when I stormed out of the house.
The person I hit was yelling at me hysterically. It made sense, especially since the car he was driving belonged to his boss.

I tried to calm him down but he wouldn’t stop yelling. Cars were squeezing around us to get through.
I just wanted to get out of there.

“Madam! I no know how you go do am but you must pay me o. My oga (boss) go kill me!!”, he hysterically wailed at me.

Frustrated, I took a deep sigh and asked,

“How much will be enough to cover this?”

He stopped and looked at me,

“Madam, me I no know o but you go pay for am.”

I turned to my driver and said,

“Adamu, go with him to the mechanic. I will call my assistant to meet you there. She will handle the bill once the car is fixed.”

He nodded and said,

“Madam, you sure sey you go dey okay?”

I nodded while waving him off. I turned to the driver of the car I hit and asked,

“That one go dey okay?”

He shyly nodded as his face was washed with relief.

They both jumped into the other car and headed off.
I returned to my car and headed for a nearby hotel that my husband and I frequently used on date nights.
I just needed some quiet so I could think.

As my back touched the bed, I curled up into a ball and it felt like my mind began doing a full highlight reel of my life with my husband.
Every situation and circumstance we had experienced. I couldn’t begin to understand what was going on.
My heart began to go through different phases. There was betrayal, then anger, then I felt guilt and embarrassment.

“Maybe this was my fault for not giving him children.”, I thought to myself.
But that would not explain him being with a man.

Another wave of tears came about, I had been with a man that was a liar and a fraud.
How could I have been so stupid?
I pretty much cried myself to sleep that night.

When I opened my eyes, it was 9am.
I was typically up before 5am on most days. I was clearly exhausted.

I had my clothes from my trip to Ghana, so I freshened up and decided that I would go about my day.
The one thing I was sure of was that if I stayed balled in, I would only think about my problems.
So I decided to immerse myself into my work, with the hopes of getting better.

I showed up at the office with my sunglasses on as I walked through the building.
No one was going to see the pain in my eyes.
I met with my first clients of the day, shortly after 11am.

They were a couple going through a divorce. A huge part of providing therapy for anyone is always being able to check your countertransference.
As they discussed their issues with me, I found myself doubting every word that came out of the man’s mouth.
I could just hear the words my husband said at our last session, coming out of his mouth like it was a voice over….

“I would never leave you for another woman…”

Carefully put by a bastard who had mastered playing the lines.
Yes, he did not leave me for a man but he thought it was okay to be with another man?

My mind had wandered and I snapped back into the present.
I don’t even remember giving any advice to that couple that day, I just wanted them to be honest with themselves.

I said to both of them, “This will only work if the two of you are truly and completely honest with each other.
Not even seeing me will help if the other is still holding back.”

That was the crux of what I said before I sent them on their way.
I was responding to emails when I heard a knock on the door.

“Come in.” ,I said in an even tone.
The door drifted open and I looked up. It was my husband.

Filled with disgust, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

He shut the door behind him and he got down on his knees as he said, “Please let me explain.”

I could not believe this man.

I stood up and yelled, “Explain what…?!
How you cheated on me with another man?
How you lied to my face in months of therapy?
How long have you been taking it up your ass? Huh…?! How long have you been exposing me to diseases and disrespect…? Tell me!
Is that what you came to explain…?

…we were supposed to be in this together. To prove the world wrong and show that true love perseveres.
Everything I preach and teach my clients is a lie! All because of you and your selfish ass.
I pray you rot in hell. I have nothing more to say to you.
Get out of my office!”

He stayed on the floor and just looked up at me for mercy.
Mercy didn’t live here.
I knew no mercy and I say this to you now, if I could, I would have killed him.

He stretched out his hands like a beggar in Ojodu and said, “Please find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Those words set me off.

“Forgive you?!
Forgive you???
No, I need to find a way to forgive myself for the mistake of marrying you. Since you won’t leave, I’ll leave for you.”

I grabbed my purse, car keys and made my way for the door.
As I approached him, he stood up and grabbed me.
Those strong arms that once protected me, felt like a prison I could not break free from.

“Let me go! Tobias, let me gooooo!
Let me go.. let me goo… let meeeee gooooo!!”

I broke down in tears in his arms as he held the back of my head.
I cried in his arms and he held on to me. A part of it felt familiar and also unclean.
A few moments passed and I pushed him off.
Teary eyes, I looked up to him and said, “You fucked me over. I never did anything to deserve this!”

I stormed out of my office and caught the eye of Lizzy, my assistant as I headed out.
I paused and said, “You can reach me on my cell for any urgent matters but please reschedule all my appointments for the week and help me look into a ticket to London for next week. Thanks.”

She forced a smile as I walked out.

Lizzy was a true confidant and as I headed out, I felt like I trusted her more than I trusted myself.

As I drove away, I selected the late Fela Anikulapo Kuti’s album “Gentleman”.
Windows down, shades on, tears streaming down my cheeks – I blasted one of the truly legendary albums ever released out of Africa.
Straight to my sister’s house, I went. I needed a lifting.
I needed my nieces.

……

Nobody was home when I arrived.
I parked on the side of the street and just sat on the front steps.
Gazing into the settling evening, I must have been sitting there for about 4 hours.

I heard their footsteps as they turned the corner, my nieces ran up to me and hugged me.
Their parents followed closely behind.
As my sister approached me, she said, “How long have you been sitting there?”

I smiled and lied, “Not too long. How are you guys?!”

I redirected my attention to my nieces. Off they went!

Chattering about their day and everything colorful within it. Bliss.
As we entered the living room, they headed to their rooms to finish their homework and then come out to play.

My sister and I sat down in the living room. Her husband turned on the television and flipped through the sports channels.

She turned and asked me point blank, “What is wrong?”

A part of me wanted to lie but I couldn’t anymore.

I dropped my head for a moment, took in a deep breath. I looked up and said, “Tobias has been cheating on me”

She gasped.

Her husband turned around and looked towards us. He stepped back from the television and came to sit next to me.

She gathered herself and said, “Sis, I am so sorry to hear that…
…Are you okay?
How did you find out…?”

I smiled and fought back tears as I said, “Let’s just say I found out.”

My sister patted my back and simultaneously rubbed it as she said, “You know you are always welcome to come and stay here with us.”

I nodded and replied, “That won’t be necessary. I am already staying somewhere.”

She knew better than to argue with me.

I gave them some more updates on my trip to Ghana and the last 12 hours of my day with him coming to my office.

As I wrapped up, I asked, “Where are the girls?”

My sister replied and said, “They are finishing up their homework. They should be done soon.
…In the meantime, can I get you anything to drink? Water, juice, wine, whiskey…?”

She motioned and smiled as she walked towards the kitchen.
I smiled at her trying to cheer me up and said, “Whiskey. On the rocks.”

“Alrighty! Babe, what about you?”,she asked her husband.

“A beer is okay babe.”

She disappeared into the kitchen.

As the kitchen door closed, her husband moved closer to me and said, “I am sorry Adeola. I can’t even begin to understand how hard this must be for you”

He paused and said,“This doesn’t change much for me though, I still think you need to tell him.”

I looked at him in confusion and said, “Why would I need to tell him that? Why would I even tell anyone that right now?”

He sighed and said, “I understand that it is hard for you but you have to tell him. You need to tell the people you love. They deserve to know.”

As those words sailed off, my sister was halfway into the room.

She said, “Tell us what.”

I looked up and saw the uncertainty written all over her face.

I looked at her husband, her and then sighed before saying, “I have stage IV ovarian cancer.”

Before I could finish my sentence, the glass in her hand dropped and shattered all over the floor.

At that very same moment, from the corner of my eye, I saw my nieces burst into the living room.

It all happened like it was in slow motion but the farthest from it, my life was a rollercoaster ride at it was about to fly off the tracks.

Be back here on Saturday 7-29-17 for Part 3 of this gripping series; Against Counsel

 

Against Counsel – Part 2 by The Wordsmith @adewus4real

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