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Lipstick Stain 3


Lipstick Stain – Part 1

Lipstick Stain – Part 2


Part 3

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

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

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

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

“Sunday, where your oga day?”

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

“Oga wetin happen?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I asked in fear

“Who are you?”

The person chuckled and said

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

……

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

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

Startled he replied

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

I wasn’t having it

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

Now more concerned he said

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

I said

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She said,

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

I shook my head and said

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

She smiled and said

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

Reluctantly, I agreed.
She then said

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

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

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

She nodded and said

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

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

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

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

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

Has she woken up?”

I forced a smile and said

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

She nodded and said

“It is well.”

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

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

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

She said as she walked towards me.
I said

“Thank you mummy”

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

….

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

As we stepped into the hallway I said

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

She replied with shock

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

I replied

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

She responded

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

I added

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

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

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

“Where am I?”

I replied and said

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

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

“Lolade, please help us get the doctor”

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

“What is she doing here?”

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

“Babe, that’s your cousin Lolade”

She tilted her head forward and said

“I know. But what is she doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


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

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

Follow @adewus4real

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

#SanmiSaturdays

© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WordsofWednesday · Poetry

Take Me To Church

#WordsOfWednesday

Take Me To Church

“Offering Time!”

“Blessing Investment time”

“Offering Time”

“Blessing Investment time”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you!

~ The Wordsmith

 

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

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

 

#WordsofWednesday · Poetry · TheRantsShow

Past Present Woes

#WordsOfWednesday
Past Present Woes

What gets people so intrigued about the past?
I find that people as a whole obsess about what was and not what can be.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think history should be discredited in totality.
I respect that it informs patterns, gives insight into future predictions and most importantly, it can be a cautionary tale for things to come.


But I never get the fascination and obsession with it. Let’s use me as an example, I don’t like regrets. Because of that, I sometimes live my life with the handbrake on and other times, I can seem reckless with no bounds.
Either way, I try not to look backwards too often.
Read about my logic in The One that Got Away

I come to terms with my realities faster that most. “Oh I lost that opportunity because I didn’t work hard enough?”
Or I didn’t get that girls number because I delayed too long?”
Or “That friend hurt me or I hurt them?”

I make peace with it early on and move on.
More importantly, the things that are reminders of regrets are precisely the things I want to not have to think about.
Most times, people come into your life and they want a walk down your memory lane to inform how they want to live or love with you.
But have you ever thought that it is retraumatizing for the person to relive that experience?
Imagine a woman who was with an abusive man, you now come into her life and you want to talk about it and him.
But when she is not forthcoming, you think she doesn’t want to open up. No!
Sometimes opening up is letting you see into them but it means they have to reopen to the wounds.
Flies live around open wounds and more importantly, they bleed.


Another reason people don’t like talking about their pasts is that it can be extremely embarrassing.
Maybe you dated a proper asshole or you were one. Or maybe you haven’t even healed from your stupidity.
It happens.
So sometimes, people want to leave things the way they are – in the past.

If you have a good person, someone that you love and loves you, focus on the future.
What kind of friendship or relationship can we have?
As opposed to worrying about the kind they had with people they may not even be talking to anymore.
The past got them to you, whole or damaged. However you dice going back, you are losing some value in the now.

One thing people also don’t realize is that if you hang around long enough, sometimes you get a pure and honest peek into the past.
The past is what made us, but we are only as good as what we do next.
It’s like people that love to tell you their past relationships were this and that.
Brother and sister, in your past relationships you may have won gold but it counts for nothing if your current situation fails and in some cases, you are single. So who past relationship epp?

No one.
I like the past, with two rules.
1. I’ll take you into it as I please at my pace and time.
2. It should only be a marker for improvement and that itself can and should be very personal.

No one wants to be only defined by their past, so why do you obsess over that of others?

Thanks for reading as always!

New series out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · Poetry

Fuck The High Road

#WordsOfWednesday

Fuck The High Road

It’s cold, lonely and seldom traveled.
Not because people don’t know the way but many choose to not use it at all. Ignoring class, self respect and peace, some would rather muddy themselves in the lowliness of pettiness.
But it is cold, high and out of grasp – but for a select few, it is the high road.

For the longest time, I spent time living by a concept my mentor once shared with me.
“If you and a friend had a falling out and they publicly embarrassed you, you have lost twice.
Once because you have lost a friend and secondly because you had initially made a poor choice in a friend”
I always used the “na me fuck up” mentality. If someone wronged me, I’d go silent and just let it be.
I rarely speak on what people did or didn’t do to me.

One of my best friends told me that one of my biggest mistakes was considering most people as friends anyways.
It used to sting because I would make so many excuses for people.
“She is young
He is going through a lot
Maybe I caused her to be like that
They are really a good person, you just don’t understand them”
Eventually you learn, that not everyone is your friend and all.

I am also incredibly private about my life, choices and intentions. I picked that up from my mom who was an expert at protecting us from unnecessary eyes and distractions.
But here is to growth (I laughed out loud using this watered down word). My blog has seen my evolution but more importantly it has become a haven for folks to learn from me and apply things to their lives.
Let my experiences, however few or otherwise, be a guide for you and yours.

After my relationship ended in late 2014, I was so broken and hurt.
I swore that through 2015, I wouldn’t be in another relationship. I was going to be single, date and travel.
Two of those things were perfectly fine.
One of my biggest mistakes was dating while healing (DON’T DO IT PEOPLE)
I was so broken and to an extent, I was searching for peace in the women I met.
And don’t forget dating multiple women at once. Smh Sanmi. (I Lied and Cheated)
So yes, I ultimately scarred some of the people I interacted with.
I was still angry, at my ex and myself.
It was like all the accommodations I gave for her, I wasn’t willing to give anyone else.
My temper was short, I was dismissive, reductive and just sometimes a flat out dick.
Yes, that was all me.

In 2015, I met someone that made me laugh like I hadn’t in a while.
Quickly, she filled a void that I had been hiding for a while. It was her smile and just her crazy fun energy.
Yup, soon we were fucking and trying to navigate everything else, and then life hit.
To be honest, I wanted to run at that time. I felt like it was such a big responsibility and place to walk through with her.
She even asked me to leave and tried to push me away but I ain’t no punk and I really cared about her, so I decided to stay.
My first mistake was not restructuring our situation to a pure friendship.
Feelings were still there and having sex didn’t help either.
But as life settled, it was clear to me that we weren’t compatible long term.
We were in different spaces chasing different things.

I would come home from a long day of work and school and have to fight about why I tweeted first before calling her.
Or that I did this or the next thing.
Mistake number 2!
I should have been firm and walked.
But if you are dealing with someone and you have a huge fall out, you should probably completely leave them out and not respond to nudes when they send them to you.
Or a two page letter documenting how flawed they were as well and how much they contributed to the failures of your interactions.

This is by no means a tell-all but a reflective walk back down the high road.
Look people, Sanmi ain’t no saint. Far from it.
I’ve said things my Pastor would not be proud of, berated people and even just didn’t give a fuck sometimes but two things are true of me.
I apologize when needed and I never set out to hurt intentionally.
Have I hurt people? Yes.
Apologized and made amends where possible? Hell yes!
But people take a piss because you don’t speak up.

One phrase always touted is “Emotional Abuse(r)”
What do you call someone who berates you when they get mad and then apologize later and because of love, you take them back?
Or someone who gets so mad they start to throw your things into the hallway of a hotel room?
Or threaten to scream because you don’t want to have sex with them after they just called you every evil name possible?
What do you call someone who tarnishes your name in public but still claims to love you and reaches out when they need favors?

If you said an abuser, manipulator or just asshole, you would be right.
If you assumed all of the above was done by a guy, you would be very wrong.
But you see, the same person who did those things has the nerve to go on social media and circles to say negative things about me.
Now I am again not saying I am perfect but I believe in being honest with oneself.
I was good to said person and I know deep down they know that. Even with all of my shortcomings, but you would never see me on social media, trying to drag them.

I don’t think there are “good” or “bad” people. I think we all make mistakes and thrive in different ways.
Your knight today might be a villain in someone else’s tale.
That’s life.

But you see the thing with being silent for too long is that you let people walk all over you and your truth.
You start to even believe the lies they spew about you.
Fuck the high road!
Let sleeping dogs lie but if they want to be poked, let them be poked.
Defend your name when you need to.
I did some fucked up shit but I legit went back to read some transcripts I had saved or even the letter she wrote and I was amazed.
You will see how she speaks of me now and you will think I was Tristan Thompson who dipped on her while she was carrying my baby or something.
For the longest time, I thought to myself, I had something to lose and she didn’t.
I have a show I work hard on, this blog, my brand, my job!
Leave it Sanmi, leave it. But enough!

A few things: ladies and gentlemen, the moment you realize you are not going to be with someone long term, cut it off and leave it cut off.
Don’t let people walk over you because you want to be private. They will use that silence as a green light to rubbish your name if they could and since they won’t be honest with themselves about their own flaws and shortcomings.
Forgive yourself for your own mistakes and just make attempts to be better in your new dealings.
I love me so much now.
Quicker to forgive, listening more and just being more aware of my imprint in the lives of those around me.

The high road is great in theory.
But it has bad signal and sometimes sends the wrong message, that because you are not talking, you are guilty as charged.
Fuck them and their stupid road. Stand up for yourself and your name.
And pray you never come in contact with people that make you regret ever meeting them.

 

Thanks for reading as always!

New series out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · Poetry

The One That Got Away

#WordsOfWednesday


The One That Got Away

About 5 years ago, I was in a relationship.
By all accounts, it was going well. We were relatively happy, growing and people were calling us “Goals”.
Then one day, I was having a serious conversation with myself and I concluded. I wasn’t going to marry this woman.
I prayed about it for a few weeks and battled within my spirit before I finally put an end to a 4-year relationship.

It hurt.
But nowhere near knowing I couldn’t give her what she wanted – marriage.
She told me that in the first few months, she was broken and she hated me.
We were not talking for the first 6 months after the breakup.
And in that time, I was hurting too.

Here was this woman that I loved so dearly. Started dating at 17.
I became a man within her love. We found each other and even though she was older, I never felt like we were never on the same page.
For a while, I never thought I could love any like her. Well, that was until, you guessed it right, I fell in love again.

The person I was dating for 4 years at the time of the breakup, she felt like the one that was getting away.
Like how do you invest 4 years into someone and then they just walk?
“They will find someone else and be happy and you’ll have lost out”


Funny enough though, I never believed that anyone got away.
It’s important to love like it’s your last chance at love. But I have never felt like one was the one that got away and it was the last chance saloon for me.
You will date and meet great people, some will define a period in your life or even change your trajectory in life but not all are for the forever ride. And that’s okay.

Everything works out for good. That ex-girlfriend is a happily married wife and a mother now.
It’s not enough to say it but you have to believe it. Everything works together for good.
I have never felt sad like I lost out on her since that initial period. You know why?
I  believe God’s will was done and I was part of her story.
But that’s just it – a part.


I don’t believe in soulmates but I believe that God ordains your steps.
And it’s possible that the path takes you in a different route than what you expect.
The picture up there is an interesting one.
That exact stop that white car is parked, is the exact spot I parked when I spilled my heart out to someone I once loved.
I sat there for over an hour telling her all she meant to me – we never amounted to much beyond drama and stories.

I referenced that to say, I saw her this week with another man – one of many she has dated since we had our thing.
I mentioned men, not to shame her but to highlight that we moved on. But to some people, we should be together.
It’s always amusing to hear but when I saw her this week, I laughed at the idea that there was nothing left.
The feelings of old were gone.
And then I thought. Has anyone ever seen me as the one that got away?
That would be interesting to find out.

Seeing her out, she looked happy but more importantly, I was happy too.
And like my ex-girlfriend, I thought to myself, I hope she is happy there.
More than the one that got away, is the feeling that everything works out for good.
I love where my life is. How things have turned out.
Would they be different if I was with someone?
Or one of the ones that “got away”

I don’t keep an eye on what was. My happiness is current and whole. I like that.
Don’t spend time dwelling on who you think got away. Be good enough for the now and for your future self that no one ever wants to run the risk of letting you go.

There is none that got away. They just went – a different way.
But you might very well still be on track.
Stay up!

From the Macbook of The Wordsmith…

Thanks for reading as always!

New series out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · Poetry

Be Intentional

 

#WordsOfWednesday

Be Intentional.

The eagle rules the skies
Choosing to roam in the blues
Floating into the realm of those beneath
To feast
Only when it chooses
Therein lies the value
It chooses
Never allowing the winds or the skies to dictate
It chooses
When to soar
And when it’s wings, to rest
It drifts low
And sends shivers further down shaky spines
An eagle makes its intentions known
Wings open or wings closed.

It was Sunday evening and I was leaving Safeway (Yoruba Demons, Weed, and a Safeway). Actually, I was sitting in my car in front of Safeway when a couple parked behind me and exited the car.
Hand in hand, they giggled and laughed into Safeway.
They were an African American couple in their late fifties or early sixties.
I watched them from my rear view mirror as they walked in and basically ignored it.

I thought I would have left the parking lot before they returned but I get lazy in my car sometimes after a workout.
I think I was scrolling through my Twitter timeline when they emerged from Safeway.
I looked up at the dashboard clock and realized that I had been sitting there for more than 20 minutes.
It didn’t matter very much when I looked up again and saw them still laughing and giggling.
They entered their car and I watched from my rearview mirror as they laughed and the man placed his left hand on her cheek, he said something to her and then leaned in to kiss her.
When they broke the kiss, she picked up his left hand and kissed the back of it.
I felt something but I tried to ignore again.

They lingered as he put the car in reverse.
And I felt it again, this time, I didn’t ignore. I stepped out of my car and said

“Excuse me, can I please ask you something?”

Surprised, the man said

“Sure”

I bent forward to get a better view of them inside their Toyota Rav4.
I asked

“How do you stay so happy?”

He smiled and looked over to her and then back to me before replying. He said

“If you know what I know about this woman, it is easy.
She gets me but more than that, she is good people”

I nodded in agreement and then she spoke and said

“We love each other everyday.”

I thanked them for their insight and turned to head back to my car. The man said with a slightly embarrassed look

“You saw all that?”

I nodded and said

“Yup and I’m glad I did. You guys have a good one”

“You too”

They both said and they drove off.
That interaction got me thinking about intentionality. I speak about it a lot.
Particularly with my friends and with my show.
I learned a few years ago about intentionality. You can be good in general but you can be intentional in how you choose to display your goodness or how you decide to be impactful with it.

Are you intentional in love? Forgiveness? Friendship? Trusting? Growing? Evolving?
I know it is easy to coast through life but the thing that separates the regular is intentionality.
Loving takes so much humility but more importantly, intentionality. As we are innately selfish, you have to choose love everyday like the couple I met.
Forgiving takes intention, you have to choose to shelve the hurt and the pain to let go.
Growing and evolving requires you putting active effort into the process.
Success requires intention towards perfection.

I find myself sometimes questioning my ability to be intentional.
Taking steps to live beyond the regular. Do I go the extra step to show my friends and family that I care?
Or do they just get the regular because they know I am a good person?
Think it through.
Think about what is the bare minimum in everything you do and then decide to be intentional about doing more.
It will set you apart.
You will be better for it, the world will be better for it.
And like the couple I met, you will have reasons to laugh into your old.

Thank you for reading and sharing my thoughts.
What are some things you will like to be more intentional about? Time with God? Working out? Trying new things?
Leave me a comment below and let me know.
I have a new challenge on my hands and I intend to dominate. It will take patience and effort but I am determined to be successful. But till then, stay up!

 

From the desk of,

The Wordsmith.

Thanks for reading as always!

New series out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WordsofWednesday · Art · Bloggers · Nigerian Writers · Poetry

I Deserve Forgiveness

#WordsOfWednesday

I Deserve “Some” Forgiveness

There are few moments in life where things make you take a beat.
Sometimes after a beating. Other times, after realizing that you need to truly stop and breathe.
For years, the phrase “na me fuck up” was all too familiar.

Stupid decisions, trusting wrongly, not speaking plainly and sometimes falling blindly.
I would sit down and cry while beating up myself.
“Sanmi, you should know better”
“How could you?”

I was mostly burned and forced to write pieces like Fuck Your Friendship.
Burned by “friends” or “love interests”. I was always a feeler – I allowed myself to see the best in people.
I get it from my dad.
There was once someone that dragged my father’s name in public. I knew he was in the right but he kept his cool and kept encouraging us to be calm.
One evening, I came back from school and I noticed a few extra cars outside.
As I made my way in, I heard voices.
The person had come with their family and friends to beg my father – they were on their knees asking for forgiveness.
I wanted him to publicize it but he said no.
The words he left me with have stuck.

“In certain situations, you will learn lessons that you truly wish you could have avoided but they will shape you. Peace within you is a higher grade than public validation”

It never really clicked for me until I became a man.
I would sit down and beat myself for poor decisions. Why didn’t I listen to my friends about this person or why did I stay in that situation?
Why did I let them back in?

All that and more.
But here is the truth, you will make mistakes and with all the lessons I have learned, I still make them.
The best you can do is continue to improve as you go along.
Have a short memory for the fuckups but cherish the growth points and the future you will have with those lessons.

So 2018 has been filled with less “Na me fuck up” moments.
People will always try to drag you back and remind you of your fuckups but stay focused.
Seriously.
It will be hard and you may be down on yourself. But don’t let it linger.

I used to say there was no one I regretted being friends with or dating but there is one person.
While we shared some great times, they make me regret ever knowing them.
And it is easy to wallow.
You want to continue to kick yourself! But to what end?

Oh, he was playing you?
She never really loved you and she used you?
Okay, it has happened and you have learned.
Now stand up and forgive yourself.
Yes, not them. Forgive yourself for the guilt, pain, shame, and rage you feel.
You are amazing and you will continue to live and learn.
You will still make more of those mistakes and you will scale challenges with ease – you are evolving.e
Every single day.

And yes, you deserve some accolades!

What are some things that have had you saying “na me fuck up” lately? Comment below and let’s talk.
Thanks for reading as always!

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

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · African · African Fiction · African Stories · Art · Bloggers · Oakland · Poetry · Stories · TheRants · TheRantsShow

Unpacked & Abandoned

I called you, twice
It kept ringing
No answer
The next time we talk
It will be over
The story
The movie
Battery, dead
Love?
Left.


Unpacked & Abandoned.

You ever moved to a new place and as you are planning to leave the current place, you decide that certain things won’t go with you?
The old bed frame, that broken toaster, the deadbeat partner? 👀

Unpacking is a cornerstone of growth and change.
Sometimes we don’t actively recognize that but it is so important.
The mind is like a train, things come in and get off, some come on and never get off. There is so much that will influence you in life but not all of it needs to enter your next phase with you.

Recently, I started thinking about the things that I have experienced in my past that I still carry around with me and how they could be affecting my future.
Yes, he cheated on you or you let her walk all over you.
Unpack that and set it down, so you can thrive.

Many of us allow those interactions/experiences/moments define us going forward. It is important to cherish some things in the now but let them go.
Why are you always worried about what he might do to hurt you?
Why do you always get defensive when women get close?
Have you seriously unpacked the things that you carry?

For the first few years after my relationship, I couldn’t imagine feeling the amount of love that put me at risk of getting as hurt as I did.
I actively avoided anything that will allow me to fall that hard for someone. In some cases, I would blatantly self-sabotage myself to prevent chances of being hurt.
I had to stop once and ask myself, why do you keep carrying that around?

The annoying thing with unpleasant things you haul around is that it is sometimes the first thing new people see when they meet you.
In the second conversation, your hurt, doubts, and insecurities start showing and he/she wants to run as far away from you as possible.
And the part that sucks the most is that it is so far away from who you really are.
Set some time aside, the things you have seen or been through are all very valid but they should not govern your life and your path forward.
What are the good things? Note them and cherish them.
Everything else? Let them go.

It is not enough to unpack.
When you take your stuff to Goodwill or Salvation Army to donate, you don’t later go back to buy it.
It takes intentionality to thrive and move forward.
You need to make it a daily choice to bask in your greatness. You have let go of the “waste”, now focus on the great.

Most people will reckon that packing can be difficult because you don’t know what you will need where you are going.
It is much easier after a trip to know what you don’t need for the next one. So toss it.
Abandon it, you will be better for it.

 

#WordsOfWednesday
#WTHM
#TheRantsShow

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

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday · African · African Fiction · Art · Bloggers · Drama · Life · Oakland · Poetry · TheRantsShow

The Big 30 (Minus 3)

The Big 30 (Minus 3)

It’s 5:02am and I up!
Super thankful to God for another year and just stoked to try and achieve more of my dreams in 2018.

I always pray a prayer; I thank God for being faithful even when I am faithless and unfaithful.
That prayer means so much to me because it is thanking God for being God but also reminding myself to be better.

I’m up. It’s my 27th birthday today and I feel blessed.
Most of my friends usually have what I like to call the “birthday blues” around their birthdays and for the first time in my life, I experienced what that felt like yesterday.
Randomly, I went into a funk. I started to question and dissect my life, my happiness.

A part of me was missing my parents, my siblings and some of the friends I hold dearest to me.
There was also this sense of emptiness that tried to fill me up. Weird right?
But thankfully, I was able to circle back into the things I appreciate about life and the life God has given me.

I am a heavily flawed man.
Some think I am short tempered, I am not always patient, I can be dismissive and I really can’t f-cking stand puff puff. And I’m going to bald soon! Ughhhhhh!
So yeah, I am a flawed man.

But I also love really hard, forgive easily, fight for those I love and I will go to bat for any of you!
My story is not perfect but the best part is that it is not complete.
God is still working on me and I am thankful he has you on my ride.

Today, I celebrate God in me.
Humbled by his grace, love and mercy. I truly thank God for not giving up on me.
Yup! I said I wasn’t going t cry but I typed that and the floodgates opened! Where is Sonny Badu when you need him.
But my God has been so faithful.
26 was good. Challenging but good.
27 can only be better.

To mark today, I am going to give you guys 3 sides of me.
Please never let the chronological expectations of life rob you of your birthday glow! And please do something you will be proud of in 2019. Read my 2018 mantra – Sink OR Swim here and then take the leap!

From the desk of The Wordsmith, it’s a very special edition of WordsOfWednesday! Happy Birthday to Me!


1.

THE FLAWED ME

It’s clear
My mistakes are like a parking ticket.
After driving fast and evading reality
It caught up to me when I was parked trying to walk and not run.

I am like Adam.
Stealing from God, betraying his trust and rejecting his favor
Ungrateful son
Putting myself to the sword
It feels good
To return home like a prodigal son

I tried to sneak back in
The alarms went off
He saw me from a mile and around the corner
Like my pops
He didn’t say much
I knew I had done wrong
So I snuck into my room and cried
When I emerged, he had dinner ready
The keys to his ride
To a higher place

He didn’t speak about my mistakes
He didn’t have to, I knew
We knew
I just had to not make them again


2.

“You Are God” – Nathaniel Bassey
(feat. Chigozie Achugo)

You are God from beginning to the end
There’s no place for argument
You are God all by yourself
You are God from beginning to the end
There’s no place for argument
You are God all by yourself

You’ve got times and seasons in your hands
You called for light out of darkness
You don’t need a man to be the God you are
But you have chosen to call me your own

There is something about this song. It makes me so humbled by where I am today.
Sometimes I think back to all of the lows in my life and how I thought I would never pull through. From heartbreak to betrayal to backsliding, God has always got me.
It is so humbling and scary that someone can love you through all of the “everything”. So I wanted to share this song with you all.
The lines in song that really get me are

You don’t need a man to be the God you are
But you have chosen to call me your own

Like this God really took me through it all and doesn’t need any man or what any man says to be amazing to me. I am so grateful.
I am far from perfect and evolving but it is so comforting to have a God that will never forsake me.


3.

27 THINGS ABOUT THE WORDSMITH

  1. When was the last time you cried?
    This morning. Panic not, I was just overwhelmed by how good God is and how loved I am.
  2. Do you have any special talents?
    WHATHECKMAN! 😊
  3. Do you have any siblings?
    3 absolute rockstars!
  4. How would you describe your fashion sense?
    London living Bachelor with NY taste and Italian Influence who still wants you to know that omo naija ni mi
  5. What’s the #1 most played song on your iPod?
    Hola Hola by Sugarboy
  6. What sound do you love?
    The sound of my direct deposit hitting my account.
  7. What is your favorite form of exercise?
    Partner exercises. 👀
  8. Which celebrity do you get mistaken for?
    Pleasure P.
  9. What was the first thing you bought with your own money?
    My car.
  10. What story does your family always tell about you?
    My mom loves this story but when I was a little kid somewhere between 2-3, I had bow legs but I Was cute as shit! (yes, she includes this in the story) Anyways, we had a TV in their bedroom and in the living room, so I would turn on both of them and then run back and forth between rooms to try and see if the Tv’s were showing the same exact thing. Of course by the time I made it around the corner, the frames would have changed but yeah, young me.
    For the sake of today, I’ll tell you lot another one but my mom always talks about growing up as a kid, I would always come to her with a smile. No matter what happened the say before. I would be singing and barge into any room in the house with a song in my mouth. And when I am around my parents, it still happens.
  11. When was the last time you had an amazing meal?
    Brethren, it depends on what kind of meal we are talking about. 👅😴👀
  12. What do you want to be when you grow up?
    As per sey 27 never grown abi? Okay o, I sha want to be impactful. No matter what I lay my hands on, I want to positively change lives.
  13. If you had to work on only one project for the next year, what would it be?
    A way to bring free education to all the kids in Africa.
  14. What would you do if you won the lottery?
    Short answer:- Change lives
    Long answer:- Hennessy ti wo body!
  15. What do you do when you’re not working?
    Be alone, write, listen to music and talk to my friends. Also started watching sermons on Youtube again, so yeah that too.
  16. When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with?
    Someone to talk through their problems with and bounce ideas off. Wide range of things to be honest.
  17. What is your favorite way to relax?
    Laying on my carpet in my living room and not being spoken to.
  18. What social customs do you wish would just disappear?
    Basically, anything that marginalizes or oppresses women.
  19. What is your favorite holiday?
    Touring Europe with Itafe.
  20. Tell us one of your bad habits!
    I am very stubborn. And sometimes when I form opinions about something and I feel strongly about it, I rarely change my mind. I can be dismissive. I am a horrible texter (blame this on people that write me essays tho). I forgive people that have repeatedly burned me.
  21. Favorite memory from childhood?
    Christmas at my grandfather’s house with all my cousins from all over the world.
  22. Favorite smells?
    Cologne. A particular brand of perfume that a friend of mine wears. Just anything clean or from Bath and Body Works.
  23. What’s the first thing you notice about people?
    How they treat other people, how loud their voice is or isn’t. Teeth as well. Does it appear clean or not?
  24. What terrifies you the most?
    That I am a fraud or that I won’t maximize the potential I see and people see in me.
    I was really bullied and taken advantage of as a kid. Boarding school was initially rough. It stuck with me.
    Self-esteem issues and confidence issues. Maybe that’s why I am never able to enjoy my successes, I am always looking over my shoulder. Worried about the drop. I never understand why people like me or are fascinated by me. I think I am a decent host and writer or singer. People want me to write a book but I worry like it failing will break me and reinforce my fear of not being good enough, so I have stalled on it. But yeah, I don’t think I am handsome, I don’t get what people see. And I think all of that came from those childhood feelings. So there you have that.
  25. How much control do you really have over yourself?
    Too much. Sometimes I just need to let myself live.
  26. How would you describe yourself in 5 words?
    Flawed. Talented. Emotional. Loving & Shy.
  27. What makes you smile?
    Honestly, making you and all the people I love smile in every extension of myself.

Thank you for always supporting me and being here with me!
Here is to an AMAZING 2018 for all of us! From The Wordsmith and all of WhatTheHeckMan ~ I love you all!

Bless.

Come back next week for Part 4!
#BGW #SanmiSaturdays #WTHM

© 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!
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Written by @adewus4real
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