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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

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

Lipstick Stain 2


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


Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

Concerned, he replied

“Guy you good?
Wetin happen?”

I smelled hard and said

“D – abeg get here asap. I need you”

Even more concerned, he replied

“Aight bet. I’m on my way”

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

“Akin, help me”

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

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

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

She was trying to tell me something.

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

I quickly grabbed my phone and called our hospital.

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

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

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

“Akins (my nickname) where you dey?”

“I dey room, my brother”

He rushed over and opened the door.
He started saying

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

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

“Akin, what happened?”

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

“I’ll explain in the car”

…..

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

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

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

I paused, then I said

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

Without taking his gaze away from the road, Desmond said

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

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

The receptionist asked

“How may I help you?”

I replied

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

She looked down at her computer and said

“May I see some identification, please?”

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

“Oh it’s in the…”

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

“Stella, let him through.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in, please”

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

“We are here to see Mr. Olaoluwa.”

I turned and said

“Yes, that’s me”

He continued and said

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

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

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

….

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

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

“Sir, tell us what really happened”

I sat up and I said

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

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

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

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

Slightly annoyed and confused, I responded

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

The second officer came closer to the table and said

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

I scoffed and said

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

The sergeant replied

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

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

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

I took a deep breath and said

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sergeant said

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

My lawyer chuckled and said

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

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

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

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

I nodded and he said

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

I looked at him square in the face and said

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

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

“We need to figure out who did”

…..

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

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

“Akin, how are you holding up?”

Lade’s father asked me

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

He placed his hand on my shoulder and said

“All will be well.”

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

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

He approached me and said

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

I stood up and said

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

The surgeon spoke and said

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

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

“She was pregnant?”

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

“He didn’t know yet”

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

“You knew?”

She nodded sheepishly.
My heart completely shattered.

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

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

Follow @adewus4real

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

#SanmiSaturdays

© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

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

Lipstick Stain

Part 1

6lack – Unfair

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

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

“Shush”

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

The last words I heard were

“Hi guys! Welcome to my channel…”

I smiled and my eyes closed.

…..

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

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

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

“Babe, why didn’t you wake me?”

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

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

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

So I said

“But do I really have to go?”

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

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

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

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

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

…..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How far away from the house are we?”

I nonchalantly replied

“About 5 minutes”

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

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

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

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

“This is the best head ever”

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

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

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

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

“Fill me up”

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

“Where are my panties?”

I smiled and said

“You’re never getting them back”

…..

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

I didn’t turn my head but I answered

“yeah. I moved it to the UBA.
Why?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed as she said

“Why?
I was going to use it”

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

“Use it?

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

She snapped back

“Why are you questioning me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lade what is all this?”

She replied

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

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

“Please stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

I knew I was completely fucked.

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

 

PLEASE COMMENT. 

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

Follow @adewus4real

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

#SanmiSaturdays

© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday

Are You Giving?

WordsOfWednesday

Are You Giving?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Thanks for reading as always!

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

 

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday

Convenient Christian 3

#WordsOfWednesday

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

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

Convenient Christian 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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


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

Love always,

The Wordsmith.

Thanks for reading as always!

New series out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#WhatTheHeckMan · #WordsofWednesday

Guilty as Charged

#WordsOfWednesday

Guilty as Charged

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading as always!

New series out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!

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

#WordsOfWednesday
© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan

#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

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

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.

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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

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© 2018 #WhatTheHeckMan