Tag Archives: life

Cheers to the new me!

ninja

I’m staring at King Aize’s picture of when he was 2 days old and I cannot believe how big he has grown. I can’t believe it. He looks so different. Now he’s hugging me, kissing me, babbling back at me, mimicking me, laughing with me and giving me flying kicks. He’s testing my patience, testing his limits, biting me, throwing things back at me and I’m learning to read his moods and daily learning what I can do to change how he feels when he feels moody or is throwing a tantrum. He just started that and it’s interesting to watch. Sometimes I let him have his way and other times I stand my ground. I’ve learned that he only bites me when he’s happy or wants my attention or wants me to play with him. He also bites me when he wants to make me laugh; I guess my reaction is hilarious to him. I love him. Too much!

I thought of re-starting this blog when I move into our new house. But its taking much more time than I expected and my head is bursting with ideas and stuff that I just cannot wait anymore. I am afraid that people will judge me but in my usual style, I cannot let people’s opinions stop me from doing what I want. I will do what’s best for me. I know the opinions that society holds concerning women living alone, divorcees, single moms and older single ladies but who society epp? Abeg!

Since I became a single mom, life has changed! It’s almost as if I am living a brand new life. The new me looks at the old Eseosa and marvels at her shenanigans and antics, her zest and her can do spirit. I still have vestiges of that, I think. When you have gone through a bad marriage like I have, lost yourself in order to please someone else and then have it all thrown down the cluttered, dirty drain, it can and does take its toll. Add that to being the parent of an active cruiser/toddler and you can see why the old Eseosa is to be feared and revered.

But I love my life. I love the fact that I know who I am. I know what I have. I have full confidence in my abilities as a woman and mother. Marriage will stretch your limits and I can safely say, it has helped me rediscover myself. I no longer see life through rose-tinted lenses. Black is black and white is white. Wrong is wrong and right is right. We all have the right to be happy. We all have the right to choose the kind of life we want. We all have the right to choose the kind of people we want in our lives. We should not live for someone else. We should make the decisions that govern our life. We choose our life’s path.

Adulting is freaking difficult o, moreso when you’re a woman. But since I simplified my life, I find that most things have become easy. I can genuinely say that I love my life. It’s almost as if I was born for this. Maybe that is one of the reasons Imoh is so mad. Oh well! In one of my articles, I remember writing that I was born to be a mother but I couldn’t say the same about being a wife. Single parenthood has come with its ups and downs but I have much preferred it to marriage. If Sister Queen hears that I said I was born to be a single mom, she will kill me. She is all about moving on and getting myself a good man. I am all about saving money to pay for Aize Lee’s fees come September. I know when push comes to shove, my support system will kick in but I have never had the talent of begging. In all my madness and skoin skoin behavior, I have never learned how to beg. Besides I can afford it. For that, God showed up. Thank you, Jesus. If not, it for red o.

The first step I think, to excelling at being a single mother is to have a source of income and live according to it. My precious son doesn’t know the difference, except that he enters buses a bit more (in my defence, I usually pay for 2 or 3 seats so he will be comfortable), he eats the same cereals, same foods and pureed fruits and generally the same standard of life he was born in. Not that he would notice o, he’s just one year old. All na serenren; to reassure myself that I have got this and God has got us. My dad died when I was 5. Am I not here, happy and healthy today? Na today? If my mum who was a trader could raise 7 successful children, what could possibly be my excuse? After all the better schools wey I go? God no go gree!

For some reason, it seems as if there are divorcees and single parents everywhere I go. I like to think God led them to me to show me that I am not alone and that it is not peculiar to me. A lot of them are doing very well and live super successful Iives and I go home motivated to do more and conquer more. Some are not doing so well and I go home, cracking my brain on what to do to improve the life and lot of women in Nigeria more. Imoh once said, his problem was that I was too strong and he was trying to tame me. These days, I am more likely to fight back if provoked, especially when it comes to women and children. I am more defensive. I am more ready.

I smile more. I laugh more. I am friendlier, much nicer. I notice more things, like the woman with a child on her back and a heavy load on her head while the husband walks by her side, pressing his ‘palasa’ phone. I am more eager to pay for a woman whose fare is incomplete in a commercial bus. I am generally a nicer person, I admit to women only o. Lol. But I expect that to change as time goes by.

Lift your hands and voice to celebrate and help the woman in your life some time! Please! She deserves it! Honestly.

Cheers to the new me!

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Faith that works

 

My friends say I don’t believe in destiny. It’s not like I don’t believe in it but the thing is, I have always believed that if you want something, you’d better go and get it as it will not jump into your lap. Who we are today is formed by our environment, our circumstances and the experiences that we go through and if you have lived my life or better still, gone through my experiences with me, you might understand why I can be cynical at times.

Don’t get it wrong. I believe in faith. You know, in 2008, I attended Bible School (I know, I know, it’s unbelievable. Even I don’t believe it myself sometimes, especially when certain lewd thoughts enter my head), Word of Faith Bible Institute.  I graduated with a distinction but there was a course that so worried my pastor that he had to call me into his office for a chat. As you can guess, that course was ‘Faith’. It was the only course I had a C. The rest were A’s, except Faith. I even passed Prayer.

Me? If a prayer is more than 15 minutes, my dear, you can be sure I am most likely thinking of something else. And I don’t pray in crowds. I just can’t shut out what the other people are saying. You know how Pentecostals like to shout as if the messenger angel is hard of hearing. So by the time, prayers are over, your ears are ringing like you stood near a cathedral communion bell. Suffice to say, the best place for me to pray still remains, a quiet place where I am all alone.

So my pastor called me and asked to talk to me. Didn’t I believe in faith? Was my faith level low? What was my relationship with my Lord and Savior? Did I doubt things because they were not being manifested in the physical (which is a nice way of asking if I am a doubting Thomas)? Did I need extra lessons? How could he help me? Plenty questions. Some I had answers to and some I preferred to remain mute because I simply didn’t have answers and there was no reason why I didn’t have answers.

I do believe in faith. A lot. But Faith has been so bastardized that its hard to understand it anymore. Now, I’ve learned to be practical. If the skies are grey, most likely, its gonna rain. So take an umbrella or a raincoat (Do people still wear that sef)? If you missed your period and you have been sexually active, you are most likely pregnant, so congrats. Safe delivery. If you haven’t read all year and its 30 minutes to the exam, you are most likely going to fail, so start saving for the next year’s school fees. Yes, there is nothing that prayer cannot solve but please let’s exercise a bit of restraint and take responsibility for our actions. I don’t understand what faith has got to do with certain issues, honestly. It is just so ridiculous sometimes.  

Back to the destiny thing, If what will be will be, then why struggle for success at all? Oya, let’s all get naked and go dancing in the rain and hope that at the end of the year, we would all be successful, famous and stinkingly rich. Let’s all fold our hands and not work but hope and fast and pray that manna will fall from heaven like it did in the old testament (meanwhile, God fit just vex and it go happen o. It go be like ‘feem’).

Be honest. ‘No food for lazy man’. We all see that at the back of lorries and trailers, especially the old, rickety ones that look like they are about to fall on the nearest vehicle (and sometimes, sadly, they actually do). Forget the old lorry, remember the message. Because that’s the koko these days. Even yahoo boys gats to hustle. Sometimes they don’t even bathe for weeks, or brush their teeth but camp out at hidden cyber cafes or in their homes ‘yahoo-ing’ away. Trust me, I would know. I’m a Bini girl, we practically invented yahoo-yahoo (but don’t quote me anywhere).

I believe in practical faith. Yeah, I think I can safely call it that. Faith that actually makes sense. Not the type that the big man upstairs listens to in stunned silence and then erupts into laughter at the level of silliness. Practical faith works. At least for me. It is a rocking combination of realism, practicality and faith. Make what you will out of it, but that is what works for me. That being said, one thing I’m beginning to believe more and more is that the lines just fall into the right places at the right time if you are taking the right steps. Confused? Bear with me for a while.

I am happy where I am right now. I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be. I might have taken my own sweet time getting here but I kinda feel this is a place I really should have been. Will I remain here? I honestly do not know. All I know is that it’s a journey. Last week, one of my ex-boyfriends proposed to me. As in, the serious stuff. And the truth is, If he hadn’t broken my heart (whatever was left of it anyway), looking at him now, I would never have been happy with him. Hindsight is so much more truthful. There are some journeys that teach us lessons and are meant to guide us. There are some that are just a waste of energy and time. Some experiences teach us, guide us, give us a map and help us re-assess our journey and some are just breathers – meant to distract us for a while. I believe people will end up where they are meant to be as long as they don’t stop moving in the right direction.

I don’t have all the answers. I may not even be making much sense (I knew I sucked at writing, but the wise ones said to never give up, right?). But one answer I do have is, with a bit of time and luck (I don’t believe in luck. The damn thing has never worked for me. Now, Grace loves me. That I believe in), everything will work out in the end. If its not okay, then its not the end. Now, that is Faith that works. How the heck did I ever get a C?

If wishes were horses…

Image

I’m so sorry, Ai.

They say, ‘To live in the hearts of those you love is not to die’. I have never really liked that saying. I still don’t. I don’t know why. I don’t want to lose anyone. I don’t want them to live in my heart. I want them to live in the physical world where I can touch them, love them, argue with them and hold them. But again they say, ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride’. I would not give up the memories of my loved ones for anything in the world.

I remember the first day I met Aisha Suleiman. She had breezed into Bundle of Joy Pre-School like she owned it. I say breezed because that was how she rolled. Her confidence was out of this world. For such a slim woman, it seemed like she could power the entire Southern part of Nigeria which is notorious for its epileptic/non-existent power supply. She wanted to enroll her son, Ayomide in my daycare facility. From the first moment I met her, I was fascinated by the strength and self assuredness that oozed from her. She spoke with the ‘britico’ accent of someone who had spent years abroad. I wanted her son in my facility but I wasn’t exactly sure of his seemingly ‘Stone-cold, Steve Austin’ mother. She looked like trouble.

The next time I saw Patricia, my gist partner, I told her about the ‘troublemaker londoner lady with her nonsense british or whatever accent she dey form’. How would I have known that she would become such a huge impact in my life?  She did enroll her son and also basically enrolled me into her life. I remember how she used to come spend hours with me in the office, taking care of the kids, complaining about our family, bitching about life and browsing boohoo.com. She would browse and select what she wanted, pay her brother and ask him to send it to Nigeria for her. I remember when her customers would not pay her, she would complain to me and I would think of some ‘egbe-wager’ way to get the money back, most of it theoretical. Most of it I concocted so outlandishly just to make her smile and laugh. She had the greatest laugh in the world. She laughed without holding anything back, with her whole heart. Unlike me, I have mastered the art of laughing while thinking a dozen worrying and unpleasant thoughts. I loved her laugh. I loved her. I love her.

I remember her teasing that I might as well employ her as she basically came to the office everyday and spent hours there. All the kids knew her and loved her. The Parents got used to her as well and basically regarded her as a member of staff and were always shocked when She was introduced as a parent. Parents loved to come to the office to unwind and relax and gist with other parents. She started that.

I remember the day I visited her at the Hospital when she had a crisis. She had yelled on me for not coming to visit her earlier but quickly quieted down when I told her I was spending the entire day with her. That was the day I wrote ‘Taking back my Spiritual Leadership’. Aisha was a handful. She was like a steam roller, whatever that is. But her heart was so big! She was the perfect definition of ‘tough as nails on the outside, soft as a jelly on the inside’. My number one supporter and fan! My personal cheerleader!

Ayo was everything to her. Her pride and joy. Together, we made choices for him. What school he would attend, how she would raise money for his fees, and the best form of discipline for a first child. That was Aisha. She shared her life and could so easily include herself in your pain and trouble.

When I had to change cities, all she asked was, ‘what’s the plan’? She did not offer unsolicited advice, all she did was give me a shoulder to lean on, to support me and to remind me of what I wanted whenever I forgot. She was the one person who did not judge me or my choices.

Lagos! Now this thought has got me smiling ruefully. ‘Eseosa! Na so you be? Na Lagos make you change like this? If na abroad you come go nko? Person no ever see or hear from you again. My friend, you better change!’ I would yell right back and burst into laughter, promising that I would change and would keep in touch more. It happened once, twice, thrice,……..and it went on like this for 2 years.

2014. I knew she hadn’t called me in a while. It hit me one day at work. Aisha hadn’t called me in a while to yell at me for not keeping in touch. I made a mental note to call her before she called me. That was it. I made a mental note. A mental note.

2 days ago, I checked my bbm messages after a week. My boyfriend and I were fighting again for the gazillionth time and going through a phase that I had promised myself that I would not go through again. I had just moved into a new house and I was still trying to adjust and get ready for the life of traffic that it seemed was now my portion. I was broke. Water had stopped running and I was thinking of how to put a banana peel on the ground for my miserly new landlord and his bighead. My colleagues would not stop calling me that I made them come to work on a public holiday. Water poured on my laptop. I was tired of it all. As if these truly mattered! So I checked my bbm messages which I remember to do maybe once a week. As usual, there was a lot of broadcast messages which is what you get when you have about 500 contacts. I don’t even know what I am doing with 500 contacts. I started ending chats when I saw Hassan’s broadcast message from a while ago ‘We are now live at the wedding reception of Kate and Hussein…’ and a personal message that stated the website of the couple. Hassan was her younger brother and Hussein’s twin.

Curious and elated, I opened his dp. Aisha’s picture was his dp with the inscription, ‘RIP Sis’. Immediately I was irritated at people who would put people’s pic up with funny messages that they had forgotten to change form the last pic they put up. Immediately I pinged her to discuss the wedding. It bounced back. I called and her numbers were switched off. I started feeling a little afraid. I checked on Facebook but there was nothing. I heaved a sigh of relief but the little shadow of fear would not go away. I managed to ignore it for about 20 minutes but I couldn’t anymore and so pinged Hassan. It took a little while to respond but when he did, it wasn’t with good news. Aisha had died on April 1.

After the tears and sobs have dried off, all I feel is guilt. What is the meaning of a mental note? Why didn’t I just pick up the phone to call? Why? Would it have taken anything away from me? What was I so busy doing? She constantly checked up on me; made sure I was okay. Why couldn’t I have been a better friend? Why couldn’t I just call? I remember other friends who have blessed my life in so many ways that I do not keep in touch with. I am friendly enough to meet new people but keeping in touch seems like such a big deal to me and I don’t get it.

Chigozie and Joseph Efienokwu and their entire family have known me all my life and been there for me through it all. Heck, I literally planned Bundle of Joy with them. Adesuwa Dinyo, I have known since primary School and I would not be the dubious ‘fashion-conscious’ girl I am now, if not for her. Osayi Edosomwan loves me though I really don’t know why and constantly defends me and is one of the most loyal friends I have and I missed her wedding and the birth of her first child. What is wrong with me? No man has ever shown me the kind of love that IK Elaiho has showed me since I was in Js 1. Joy Akpomeza who taught me how to love giving. They are so many. Sandra Ikuli, Eyitemi, Deborah, Jessie, Imade Owie, Omosigho Ogbebor, Blessing, Eseosa, Timi Febabor, Patricia and the list goes on. I cannot remember the last day that I talked to any of these wonderful people. I am just too busy. And I was too busy to call Aisha.

I haven’t felt this much pain in a long while. I prayed I wouldn’t feel it for a long time. I thought I had seen it all but somehow I feel so small and so humble. I don’t want memories or want her in my heart. I just want her back.

Ai, I’m so sorry.

Betrial

It’s hard to tell who has your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it…. – Nicole Richie

This morning, I asked this question via my BBM PM ” What to do when the one person who should have your back switches sides?” That was the question I woke up with. At the time of this writing, I have two answers already

You shrug and keep breathing. That’s a common thing in life” – Yomi Adegboye

Stand firm and believe in yourself the more.
If the person switched loyalty,the person was never a friend. Your friend stays especially at d worst moments
– Tope Aigba

Surviving a betrayal takes a lot of strength and discipline. Betrayal hits hard. You feel ashamed, humiliated, confused, discouraged, distanced, regretful, hurt, hateful–and you want the nightmare to end. A betrayal can shatter that trust and open the door to the possibility that things, in one’s small, intimate world may not be as they
appear.

We have to distrust each other. It is our only defense against betrayal – Tennessee Williams

But despite the pain, hurt and disappointment, you will need to pick yourself up and get over it. You are permitted to cry, be angry but don’t get sucked deep into such emotion. Get it out of you system.

Yes, it’s difficult to see that confidant turn his back on you. That your good friend is passing judgment before hearing your side of the story – a betrayal of disengagement; Of not caring; Of letting the connection go.

Is it possible to succeed without any act of betrayal? – Jean Renoir

You have to get over it and start developing confidence. You can not change what has happened but you do need to take responsibility for how you are handling the situation
now.

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her. – William Wordsworth

No matter how bitter and hurt you feel, do not humiliate the object of your betrayal. That is starting another ripple effect. I strongly suggest that you walk away, if you are unable to deal at all.

How your life unfolds from here on is dependent on how you choose to see yourself, how you choose to think.

You are responsible for how you are allowing yourself to be affected.

I am Olawale
I am a Reader.

Let go and let God!

let go

I didn’t plan to write my first article this late into the year. Hell, it’s the second week of February. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been procrastinating about writing, but then what else is new. Y’all know I’m a lazy ass. And we like it that way right?*shines my white teeth*

It’s the season of love! Love is the greatest gift God has given us so Happy Valentine ’s Day beautiful people. Cheers to love!!! For the first time in a long while, I’m really and truly in a happy place, at peace with myself and at peace with the world. Nah, ex-boyfriends don’t apply. I have to have someone to be bitter about na. Come on! I’m not become such a good girl overnight. A measure of badness is required to be me. If not, the tattoo would have been an effort in futility.

Talking about places, I didn’t magically drop into this place. It involved a process and different phases. Sad to say, the phases were more painful than I care to remember. But mostly, the most important thing was my willingness to let things go. It involved a process of standing up, putting my affairs in order and walking out. I was reluctant about it, delayed it for as long as I could but eventually had to.

The thing about walking out is that we are usually scared of the unknown. What if the future is worse than where I am now? What if this is where I’m meant to be? What if all it takes is to try a little harder? What if things become worse if I leave? Won’t I be a quitter if I leave? What if I’m not strong enough? What if I’m not good enough? What if I fail in the next one as well?  What if no one supports me? What if this and what if that? I’ve been there and I’ve done all that. It didn’t work for me. It might work for you but somehow, things are never really very easy for me.

Last year was pretty tough. Infact I learnt the biggest lesson about letting go. I had to walk away from a life I had created for myself, a world I had built with sweat, blood and tears and leave everything I had ever known. The worst part of it all was the feeling of loneliness and failure. I felt like a big failure. I felt like I could do nothing right. I felt like I had achieved absolutely nothing. I felt like the only person in the world.

I felt like this though I stood up straight and proud in public and around people so nobody knew how I felt. I automatically smiled when people smiled at me but at night, I laid down and asked God why with tears streaming down my face. People saw a beautiful, friendly girl and all I saw was a bloody failure. From mountain of fire prayer sessions (That’s a story for another day) to being too mad at God to bother with church, I went through the whole phase but in the end, I could not deny the fact that I couldn’t go on that way.

Changes had to be made, albeit painful ones. So I boxed up everything I had known and loved, offered it up for sale, packed my bags, moved to another city and refused to even think about it. To hell with closure! What the heck is that anyway? I didn’t want to remember. I didn’t want to miss it. All questions were smartly deflected and friendships grew stale because I wasn’t willing to talk about anything concerning myself. I wanted to be left alone. Thank God for people who understood and gave me space while letting me know I had their support and love, no matter what. Above all, thank God for his grace. Grace is amazing, I tell you.

Now, its February, barely 3 months after I packed my bags feeling like a cowardly failure with my tails (I had like 3) tucked firmly between my legs in my combat shorts and I am experiencing a whole new life. Has it been easy? A piece of cake? No! It had its really bad moments. But that has not been the case for a while now. Its been really good! I’ve fallen in love (as usual), fallen out of love (as usual again), forced myself to come to terms with my bitter past, currently learning new things, experiencing a very different world, have new toasters (*tongue out to my ex-es* It can pain!), gained intimacy with my Creator and I’m not breaking stride. It is a whole new place, new feelings of contentment and happiness and I am soaking it all up. And guess what? I’m so glad I made the decision; I’m the happiest I’ve been in years.

Now what did I learn? Letting go is a brave act! Its not cowardly and its definitely not for the fainthearted. It takes tons of courage, bravery and faith. A wise person once said, ‘courage is not the absence of fear but the ability to go on inspite of it’. The ability to go on inspite of the fear, insecurity and doubt is the greatest courage of all. Stop trying to mend fences that just can’t be, stop trying to delude yourself into thinking you can’t exist without it. ‘For God hasn’t given us a spirit of fear; but of power, and of love and of a sound mind’(2Tim 1:7). There’s nothing wrong with being afraid but remember He that is in you is far greater than whatever it is you are afraid of, even the unknown. I can’t apologise for sounding like those fiery preachers who take free rides inside commercial buses and pour spit all over you if you are unfortunate enough to sit close to them but all I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I haven’t seen. So be of good courage! Hold your head up high! Let go…and let God!

Forget the Bible, single girls are the enemy.

the enemy‘Shafe,I’m going on a weekend getaway. Eat your heart out’.

This was my personal message on my blackberry device. My cousins and I had planned a weekend girls-only getaway to the popular Peemos resort in Sapele. It was Wednesday and I couldn’t wait for the weekend. I needed the distraction as badly as a lunatic needed to relish “yama-yama” (refuse dump). My bags were packed and I was already daydreaming about it. My stressed and overworked best friend, Shafe would most probably be in his office (as usual) and I just had to rub it in. This I did with the above message and a picture of him as my display picture. Funny enough, after my long writing hiatus, for reasons I can’t explain(to be honest, 80% of the reasons are based on laziness, pure and simple), this simple personal message led to a lot of discussions, arguments and it has culminated in two articles. This is the first.

My friend pinged me almost immediately after I put up the picture and asked if Shafe was a married man. I answered in the affirmative and she told me that if she were his wife, she’d beat the crap outta me and that even if she saw her husband in her dreams as my display picture, she’d fight too (err…babe, in reality or in your dreams, I’d beat you black, blue and purple. Just give me the where and when. Ok, bye *flees through back door*).Though she said it in a humorous tone, the underlying seriousness could not be mistaken. I told her he was my best friend and she told me that space was reserved for his wife. I reminded her that I never said I was his best friend. This was what started the discussion(it has still not ended) which eventually led to the issue of single girls and their married friends.

As a girl in her late twenties, I happen to have quite a lot of friends who are married. While being married is a desire that used to be a priority for me, it has moved down the scale due to some unforeseen circumstances (won’t tell, don’t ask. And yes, I still want to get married o). But then I still dance my heart out whenever my friends get married. I’m thrilled and excited for them. It also breaks my heart, it really does, when some of these marriages end up in such disasters that the couple never want to see, much less speak to each other again. The very mention of the other’s name is anathema to them and I sometimes end up in the middle; a position as uncomfortable as a boil on one’s ass.

When these ladies get married, it seems they join a club. One that probably has as a motto ‘single girls are the enemy, forget what the bible says. The devil is a woman and she is single’. This motto becomes so ingrained that it becomes a personal mantra to them. They pout and make faces when they see single girls, including their friends and keep asking annoying questions like ‘when you wan marry now’. ‘find one man marry now’, ‘you never tire for single life’ and the clincher ‘you single girls sef’. Oh, you can trust me; my answers are almost always equally as rude.

Now I get it that they are trying to protect their husbands from the single ladies and all that. Okay, that’s a lie. I don’t get it at all. You want to do that, go to his office and pass the memo around. Go to the banking hall and forbid single ladies from attending to him. Go to the gas stations and forbid single females from selling fuel to him. Forbid nurses, sales girls, stewardesses, customer care agents, computer operators, police women, etc from coming around your husband. If you can, please do. But not the friends, who worked tirelessly for the success of your wedding.

When my close friends get married, I never appear in the photo album. Except you count the ones where I appear doing their bridal make up, serving food, giving out souvenirs, tying their mother’s gele, cleaning their dad’s shoes, berating the photographer for being late, shouting at the people in charge of food, decorating the car, and picking up the money from the ground when its spraying time because they can’t trust anyone else to do it, all with mismatched bathroom slippers, a banging headache and last night’s make up on my face. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. It doesn’t matter whether I was too busy to take my bath or not. All that matters is that the wedding is a smashing success.

Fast forward 3 months after the wedding, I have officially become ‘you single girl’ and she gently breaks it to me that she doesn’t like the fact that I still call her husband by his first name. An air of superiority settles on her and suddenly my friend has turned into a stranger. Oh well!Let’s not even talk about the married women who meet you at the supermarket or salon, take one look at your ring finger and looks up at you with malice, disgust and derision. A woman you’ve never met! If you’re wearing a short dress that day and her husband happens to be with her, may God help your soul, her eyes will continually shoot daggers at you punctuated with long hisses.

I know men cheat mostly with single girls, but don’t they also cheat with married women as well? I know that single girls sometimes go after their husbands, but then more often than not, it’s the men that go after them. If this is not marital insecurity largely based on trust and self esteem issues, then my grandmother won a medal in long jump at the last Olympics. But then my friend did say my perspective will change when I get married, we’ll see about that.

Celebrating Gloria

I was supposed to post this article on the 1st of October. I’d been mentally preparing myself for days to actually write something, even if it was just a few lines. But on that day I just couldn’t. I preferred to daydream. You are such a private part of me and I just didn’t want to share that part of me. Its crazy because I have so much memories of you. Good and bad. I am still afraid to think about the bad ones. While I always go through September 13th trying to forget the date, I am always happy on October 1st. We all are. There’s always a joyful spirit in the air. We celebrate you. We express gratitude to God that we had you even if it was for a short time. The tears are falling now from my eyes like I knew they would. This is the hardest article I’ve ever written. Oh, well!

Its so difficult to write about you and I really don’t know why. You were such a beauty. In and out. Oh, I know people say that about their loved ones but you really had such a beautiful spirit. Everyone gravitated towards you. I wanted to grow up to be like you. You were my favourite. Everyone loved you. I still haven’t met anyone who likes to laugh as much as you did. 9 years! Without you! I still remember that day with such clarity that I can’t believe its been 9 long years. We don’t cry anymore. When someone mentions your name, everyone smiles; each one lost in his/her own memories of you. My God, how time flies! We still talk about you in present tense. I know its weird, I like it. It confuses visitors. They ask, we smile.

‘Thank you Lord for my sister. Though we would have loved to see her alive and happy, but you know best. In everything, we give you thanks. Thank you for the blessing that she was. Thank you for illuminating our world with her light. Thank you because we know she is in a better place. It is well.’

Gloria Omodamwen Ogbeide
Oct 1 1972-Sept 13 2003
We had the world when we had you!