Nuptial Bliss, Some Heart Pour and Wishes....

Though some of us argue there is no true love any longer because of tears stronger than salt that has burned out our sanity and the virtue of our eyes, I have discovered that almost everything ever written about love to be true. Quite despicably though, love could be a trick; for some, they start out as friends and the next thing, they are saying yes I do. For another set, it is love at first sight and from a precarious meeting big thing begins. For another, once hate has its foot in the way of the affair, the love lost could never be regained. For another set, they are lonely and in love with men and women that would never love them; back no matter how pleasing they seem. This other group has searched the corners of this earth for true love, their hearts are captured then they are in love. But their final encounters are consumed by deception.  They are the kind of men and women obsessed with the opportunities marriage could give them access to.  And for others it is love at the beginning , conflicts, love,  dramas, love and they are walking down the aisle to be together till death do them apart. Personally, the disciplined, morally upright “ME,” have not experienced anything remotely close to reaping the fruit of the labor in love. I suppose I have suffered in love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by how events changes our lives; by how two people would start a love affair, come to an agreement to get married . And then seriously, they are standing at the front of the priest or at the registry exchanging vows.

Back in time Shakespeare said love was blind and it is something people have come to believe to be true. But I say that we just choose not to see when it is right before our eyes. And my girlfriend Lily Johnson answered that, I Dara, is the Queen of the Blindside.

True, right? Hmm…. The transient nature of time has done nothing to heal the wounds in my life that has shown no sign of healing. Each man I’ve met, in one way or another has contributed to my fall more than my rise. I suppose whom we start out this love affair with from the world go of our lives seriously counts because aura is a big deal. How could I? How could I have ever needed a man who never wanted me for so long for myself? But how could anyone want someone they know nothing about or get to know someone who is not of interest to them? And what you don’t know doesn’t bug you, right? What you don’t have, you never miss because it was never there in the first place. Yinka… my yester years sheltered dream that I never woke up from… and my broken heart. And the relationship that was meant to be fell apart before I could even rescue it. I wish I have the ability to control time, and that I have the opportunity to redeem my past and re-choose my destiny. Curious what I would first do if I were given such chance? I would cut off the root (Yinka) that withers the evergreens and replant my crops. Unfortunately!

Despite the brutal encounters in my life, I do tell myself something that when, God Almighty wills it our heart desires are granted.

With the irreversible powers of the Alpha and Omega, Bosun’s wishes came to pass on 28^th and 30^th Oct, 2010. The tag of singleness was removed from her as Dapo repented of men’s animal and greedy desire to keep chains of women and gave his love to her without reservation. Bosun, may your marriage be fruitful, you have found the kind of companionship that money could not provide. You preferred his empty pockets, to the affluence of other men. I pray your joy will not be crippled.

Lately, we spend little time together. I don’t see much of you anymore these days because you have been busy building your joy of love and performing your role of wife, sister-in-law and motherhood. You are one of the virtuous females I have seen in my time. You would never die building. Your joys would grow stronger.

I was the instrument that destiny used to lead Bosun to Dapo, but she made her own life complete.

And for this longing heart, I do hope, pray that someday real soon, I reap the joy that comes after the tears of oppression that I’ve sown in the old times up till this present age which took a toll on my maidenhood and perished the peace in the free passage way of love.

                                                           Our way to the registry

                                                                      At the registry

                             The moment we arrived the registry, i just got in the mood of taking pictures

                      I was so excited for my dear friend that i couldn't stop posing for the cameras

                          How could i have forgotten this part? This was when  i finished making up for her.
                          Didn't she look so beautiful?Yes she pass thousands of maidens in beauty as dove passed
                          raven in beauty.

                                                          May your marriage be fruitful!

                                               Vera and I here in the traditional marriage attire.

                          Here my boyfriend says that my arms are muscular, what do you say?

                                     Dapo looked a million dollar here. I'm glad i got the shot right.

                                               Dapo and i in the mode of talking here.

                                                                    The group pics.

                    I like this shot. I took it. I think i should go study photography after my program. Lol!

 

                                                           Happy married life girlfriend!

Camera Front ...

I wiped at my tears, turning away from the early morning sun, away from the window. These days I walk carefully with my shoulders erect to disguise my increasing demons and fear. My tall strong frame still gives me the look of a model with an athletic body, and the pugnacious gleam in my eyes gives me the look of a fighter. I picked up a clean sheet and a pen, returning across my bedroom and dropping lifelessly into the bed. My thoughts on how far I have come in my career, still with no positive happenings yet. I began scrawling on the paper.

Camera front and behind the scenes is where I have been destined to be. Even though I had tried severally to ward off this vision and mission, and take up another vocation. Nevertheless, the knife keeps landing on the same face. Every other vocation that has delighted me so far and that I could do well at had one thing or another to do with the still and moving pictures.

No record label would sign you on just by spending your last and doing your best to put the songs that took you years to hone on a CD. And the marketer or promoter would never stop demanding of you the money you don’t have to get you into the market. The money that if you had had, you wouldn’t be approaching them, you would just do your thing! Would you believe it if I tell you that, personally I had experienced the bizarre aspect of their so called musical and acting talent hunts? More than three times I have qualified for TV reality musical shows and that’s all that ever happened.  All my money and efforts, all gone down the drain because of some sons of gutters, that could think of nowhere else to siphon money but from an upcoming artistes like me.

No writer sells scripts or ideas just by picking up the telephone and putting a call though to an Editor, pitching the Studio Execs, Producers, or putting in a large chunk of dollars to market his/her material. Extreme efforts are required. That’s my opinion summed up after all my falls without a single rise. I always thought one step in between would take me further to where my glorious destiny would manifest but I am rather moving backward than I could ever imagined. It happened I am destined to become part of a very tough industry and has quite challenging callings. Matter of fact, I am carrying a load that is too heavy for me.

I have changed my mind about a lot of things since that day in Mr. Sanmi’s presence at the advertising firm when he grabbed one of my boobs in the changing room after leaving the casting set without warning, and I erupted in rage slapping the hell out of his chiming, shrunken and obnoxious face. The ‘me’ inside of me, had been right. Like battles to be conquered, success for the descent won’t be won in a long time by incessantly being disciplined and being outraged at immorality.

Right now I have lost count of the many television shows I have appeared in, and none of it has brought my star any closer to manifestation. The rave only lasted for a longer while before it subsided. This is yet another TV show and no calls except for the stare, cat calls, and the  greetings from total strangers that I got on the streets.

“I am searching for an open door…I need an angel…I’m calling an angel…send me an angel… Jesus is the answer for the world today above Him there is no other…because your cloud is dark now, you think there won’t  be sun shine…well the word of God is true and everything he says He would do it for you...” all of these are Christian faith words.

What am I even saying? I’m sure I am losing my mind!

Didn’t a singer say that, sometimes it’s hard to face the truth so we run? Well in my own case he is absolutely wrong! In my little 28 years journey, I have prayed all the prayers anyone of my age wouldn’t even know existed. And though without answers, I have never for once let the traces of discouragement overcome me.

Although I have run out of requests, and I am constantly down on my knees crying, I would never lose my faith. And maybe, just maybe there might be a turning point when I least expected.      

                                                   Interview with Sola Kosoko on, LTV.                      

My Fault???

The worst part of this story was not the beating but the fact that none of this was my fault. There was a rivulet of blood from my nostril. I was dying, and he knew he should stop, but he couldn’t. My body sagged, and sounds from me were those of a woman soon to leave her life behind.  I tried to tell myself that I was still at the wedding reception, but the hard punching landing on every part of my fragile body kept bringing back my senses and consciousness back to reality; my trip to the car to park to pack in the gifts for the bride. I saw him coming. My head turned and smiled back at him as he approached in his usual graceful way. We’ve been good friends all these years despite what happened. Even when we argued and I run my quick tongue, he never for once, raise his hand up against me.  I couldn’t have thought that a day would come when he would want me dead.

“I brought you into my circle of friends!” Henry lashed out defensive of his anger.

“If it weren’t for you there wouldn’t be Moore in this circle and Patrick falling in love with her.”

His glittering blood shot eyes continued to bore into me. If he wasn’t pining, me down with his strong arm, I would run. I could scream also but nobody would hear me. Everybody right now all seemed to be carried away gleeful of joy for the newly wed. Besides, the house was a mile long.

“Look at the way she’s made them worked. Why didn’t you do that for us? Why did you not make us happen?”

“But that is not the real reason you are doing this, is it?”

Henry, in mid-rant, was thrown by the question. “Of course it is! He insisted.

‘You are a liar.’

‘I’m not!’

‘You are just jealous I moved on a long time and my life would never be bad as yours. Your life is distorted Henry – you are shackled. ‘

I couldn’t but run my tongue with the strength remaining to me.

“Marriage has mocked you. You are bounded for life to a woman you despised, you catholic fool! Darkness isn’t ever going to depart from you!”

A stinging slap across my face flew blood out of my mouth. I told myself that If I survive this awful situation, my lingering memory would be of a monstrous ex. Pounding into me.

At twenty-nine Henry Zacharias began to do well at the oil company where he worked. It was years since he had been praying for promotion.  Eventually he was promoted from junior accountant to chief accountant. And with the promotion came chains of women.

At 36 with her delicate features and baby face maintained by plastic surgery Loren could still pass as the same age with a twenty year old woman. And she ruthlessly maintained the lie when she met Henry on an online dating forum. Meeting Loren was like sunshine after a dark cloud. A sophisticated, rich lady, what a dream come true! He invited her over and Loren plans worked out as she had set out to ensnare him. He was so charmed that he fell for every lie which swept him along though a whirlwind courtship to the altar and in the passage of months, good changed to evil. He discovered all her lies, but too late.

“How is that my fault? You were saying yes I do to me before you even got to know me.” Loren yelled sarcastically in Henry’s face.

“Our faith or your father’s money would not stop me from divorcing you.”

“And I would certainly stop at nothing, until my father disinherit; you of all that his money has enabled you to established. Or have you forgotten that you lost your job the week we got married? It is not your money that has been doing the magic, you dumb ass!” She sneered. “You are mine Henry, for life!” She pushed him out of the way marching out of their master bedroom.

As everything has its own beginning, my meeting with Henry did. And this was how it all began.

Lachach was one of the hottest clubs in Lagos. Situated inside Maryland, it was co-owned by two friends.

Kemi Dollar, my friend of seven years was the chief of hooker organizer. She enjoyed it, but pretended indifference. Life was fun for her. Every Fridays was party for her and her peers. Lachach was perfect business place for the morally decadents hiding under the cover of clothes.  On Friday and Saturday nights, the semi call girls, the proper call girls, the prostitutes, the semi good girls took their lives in their hands and drove or chattered a cab down to Lachach to get laid and be paid.

In Kemi’s car, we cruised into the club one late Friday. The only reason I came along was because it was my Friend’s birthday and this was where she had decided to celebrate it.

To my annoyance when we got to the dancing floor all the men there was trying to hit on me. None of them could have a dance without their hands slightly going down on the butt in spite of the fact that I made it very clear I was not one of them. And plus the air sticky with their cigarettes smoke, staying out of their faces seemed to be the only way to avoid their irritating come-ons.

‘Hi,’ I replied a guy who greeted me as I moved quickly to sit down and be alone.

‘Tough trip, isn’t it?’ Henry was standing before me. He introduced himself as he took a seat. This was how we met. This was how our love affair began. He wouldn’t let go as though I was going to be his last. Despite my uptight scruples that always surfaced where ever I went and my one way nature to keep to just one man when I am in a relationship, Henry didn’t treat me less than all those decoded call girls. And overtime we went our separate ways, especially when the promotion set in.

Heavy eye lids though, but this wasn’t about nudging into sleep. I looked around, everything looked blurred. Fingers relaxing. My head tilting slowly. Then I was motionless.

 “Dead?” A voice in my head questioned.

 I was slipping away into void, am I going to die, oh, God, don’t let me die. A little beyond I could hear the banging of iron. It was bell, it began to toll. The melancholy resonance seeped through my slaked body leaving me floating above the car in the air, watching my pathetic ex wept helplessly. I was dead. That’s what it means when you leave your body. He was shouting my name right now.

“Wake up Rachel, please don’t do this to me.” He was shedding tears profusely .” I love you.” He sank down on the ground crying the more and violently shaking.

Some angels dressed in snow white garments, pulled me up. I was in their midst in a court yard of some sort that was as white as them. It was not a court yard I discovered, but a white painted room. There was a bright fluorescent. Blinking, I adjusted my eyes to the light. I was in a hospital in mainland surrounded by friends and my boyfriend Greg. I had been in a coma. I was badly bruised and cut, but no internal injuries sustained, said the Doctor.  

Greg moved softly to my bedside and leaned over for a whispers, “Kim, are you seriously alive?”

Still very weak, unable to make out words yet, I grabbed his hand.

“My God!” he swung around “She is alive!”

Everyone went on rambling about what they would do to Henry. How they would make sure he rotten in jail.

The rest of you may God save you from deranged, weak minded ex that might want to take out their mistakes on you!      

   

Slut!

Their clothes went flying across the room. Flashing him a seductive old smile, she unsnapped her bra hooks slowly. Her pink nipples stood erected at the sight of his muscular bulging pennies as he unzipped his trousers. She got into bed lying naked. Gently, he crawled on her kissing her naked breasts in a determined manner that made erupt with moaning like a contended puppy.  Gently, his head moved downward and nosed his tongue between her, clitoris. Sharply, he packed it all into his mouth sulking it noisily as if it were the fruit in the garden of Aden rendering her so helpless. She wanted him so much but she also wanted him to stop. They made love anyway.

 “We cannot happen. Whatever, I felt for you was long dead.”

First and the last, in this sort of situation, in this sort of state; when you couldn’t decide if you should be angry, or calm, first and last, you would just ask questions.

“Didn’t what we just did mean anything to you?”

“It was a favor, for the old time sake. I am sorry, I cannot marry you.”

It is funny how people and things change. See how the table has turned around. She took a step towards the man standing on the far side of his own living room. He moved backward from her.

“You should try and move on with your life.”

“What is this about Christian? Did you just use me and made excuses as doing me a favor? You don’t think sex is what I couldn’t get in all these years? If you had once truly loved me as you claimed, I would still have a place in your heart. What did you think kept my faith in all those years that Donald would return? It was love, Christian. What is this about?”

“My parents…  My younger ones, older ones, my entire family!”

She chuckled throatily. “You mean to say they all hate me and don’t think me the ideal woman for you? How could they when they did not even hear my own side of story. What sort of family, treat other people’s children that bad to shield theirs?”

The wall clock that could be heard ticking loudly reminded her that she would be late for her appointment. Furry was replacing her bitterness. She shuts her eyes and waited for a moment to pass in order to put herself; together.

“This is really has nothing to do with my family. I have resolved never to get married to any woman in my life.”

“Christ Almighty. You kissed me so passionate last night. Invited me over today and tell me this after making love to me. Casually, like it was just something that you forgot to mention.”

“ I’m sorry.”

“You are what?” But she heard him well enough. She smiled then, got into her dress. “For all those years I was not in love with you, but bounded by loyalty and never had any other man but you even though I had a stream of men asking my hands in marriage, God would punish you for it.”

There was no stopping the tears and the fury this time or the scream that came from deep inside; or the swell and the surge that took her fast across the room, and her hands clawed and flying at the man’s face.

Christian raised his arms to protect himself. He grabbed the fingers that stabbed at his eyes, and, once he had them, he dragged her out of his apartment and threw her out.   

She wouldn’t mourn now. All pain, all bad feeling, all thinking, she was going to put it away for now. The effort she put in to pretending to be okay only lasted for a longer while before hot tears began streaming down her cheeks profusely.

Slut! The word echoed again and again in her mind. Clearly Melisa was still thinking about what had happened a few hours earlier. This was the most miserable time she had ever endured with him of all that had happened so far.

“I am a slut!” she whispered so loud that the short, dark-haired woman sitting beside her in the bus could hear her. The woman looked at her momentarily and quickly removed her eyes.

On the final stretch of McNeal Road, approaching the roundabout, the traffic started to snarl up. Melisa grew increasingly frustrated. She couldn’t wait to get home and cry until she was no longer able to bring forth any more tears.

She just finished watching the second season of the series Sex and the City. What does she think she was doing? Does she think she was Carrie and the ex was Big? Wake up girlfriend, this is real life. Even Carrie’s hopes were dashed where Big was at the end in season two. He left her to marry a younger woman of 26 years old.

Hehehehehehe! I guess Melisa was having a makeup sex with Christian. Did I just laugh? Actually that wasn’t funny at all.

After four years of a beautiful story ending in an abrupt way, on flimsy grounds, Melisa met Christian and in no time she accepted him into her life as lover with the hope that, that would make her man (ARTHUR) jealous and bring him back. Christian was a rebound. But the kind she stayed faithful with for two years and the half.  Arthur strayed away the more, having sex with different shades of women without CONDOMS. And the consequence was a hopeless, frustrated, desperate caterer getting pregnant with his baby. He was trapped for the rest of his life. By the time the girl’s uncle in the army had some guys picked him up and beat the hell out of him, he was saying ‘YES I DO.’ Arthur’s family didn’t do anything to help Melisa. They just watched all what she had labored for in all these four years being ripped by another woman. Though from the world go, they never liked her. It was her polished her life that irritated them and her gull.

What with men’s family anyway??? I am so scared to the bone. Especially in this part of my country they are too selfish, tribalistic, and evil. God help us Nigerian women and the already in laws oooooooooo with potential in laws…..  less I forget to add; and the chauvinistic, sadistic men also!

The Dead

Where do the dead go when the spirits leaves our body that no amount of tears that we might shed profusely brings back our loved ones? The loved ones that we’ve spent almost all our lives with; the laughter, the pain, the makeup after a serious fight, and all of a sudden, it is all gone.

Death…. Whatever, he/or she must be, I hate it just because of the way he/or she had snatched my loved ones away from the backs of their mothers. I know that you must be wondering what is wrong with me right now for referring to death as he/or she. Believe me, death must be a man to be that stone heartless the way he is that he takes even the babies away from their mothers dripping milk breasts and from the birth canal.

The incident that shattered me most in my life beyond my grandmother’s death was that case of an adopted aunt who died at the age of thirty three at child birth, having her second child. In death’s own creation, he must had, been a man. Only a man does a resolute wickedness such as Death when their minds are made up!

Do you know what I found strange in all this my loved ones being taken from me unexpectedly?  Is how they appear to me in my dreams when they are about leaving, this world. In my grandmother’s case, she appeared to me wearing a long white garment that was touching her toes. In the dream, she asked me to blow off a balloon for her. The moment I did, she was filled with joy smiling from one corner of her mouth to another. Then, a door opened behind her and closed in on her. Whatever, that meant, I should start crying, but something distracted me. Colorful balloons were all over the place suddenly, and I found myself basking in them filled with joy just like grand mum. The next morning….my grandma was dead! In Aunt Marian’s case, she was backing the infant upside down leaving the baby’s head dragging on her butt. She was moving from one house block to the next and she was smiling also. She actually called my name.

“Dammy, I just came to let you know I delivered a baby girl.”

I jumped up quite excited!

“I can’t wait to come perform.” But she didn’t wait to hear that. She was gone. I had been talking to the air.

She has always told me I would come perform with my band on the naming ceremony of her child and she would pay me. She just wanted people to know what I can do. How good I am.  What a dream?! I was so rattled badly I jerked from sleep with terrible perspiration. The following morning, the news came to me that over the night she delivered the exact sex I saw her backing in the dream but that she died at child birth. She was losing so much blood after the baby had been delivered and the so called Doctor couldn’t do anything to stop it. Aunt Marian’s riches just couldn’t help at that point in time. Money became useless. Before they could get her to the general hospital, she gave up!

In my eight years old cousin’s case, I saw her bosom friend locked up in a big dark house, hands and legs, shackled. The afternoon of the day which followed the vision, my cousin went missing from school. It’s been eleven years now and we never saw her again.

In Mummy Eleanor’s case, she was eating dinner just like everyone else in the house was this faithful evening. Then suddenly, she swallowed spoonful rice thus the rice went through her nostril and into her head. And that was it! The next morning she had to be taken to the hospital. It was beyond swallowing food wrongly.

At exactly 12:00 PM that afternoon, even though it is so unlikely for me to sleep during the day, I found myself drifted to sleep very easily and her spirit came onto me in my sleep. I dreamed! In my dream, she was wearing a light cream iro and bubaa that was between white. She said to me that she was now healed and there wouldn’t be anything to worry about any longer. She prepared a fish stew, but she did not even allow the fish to cook in the stew for two seconds before she took one out of the fish and served it with stew less rice to a woman who is very close to her in the neighborhood.

I woke up! Told the dream to one of her nephews and I inquired if she was now talking. The sun went home and the lesser flame replaced it, it was night now. We were all laughing, watching movies even one of the kids in the house fought with a man in the neighborhood. But Eleanor aged mother wouldn’t share in our glee. Matter of fact, she didn’t taste water since morning that her daughter was taken to the hospital. She has stroke, but the stroke would not kill her even though she prays for death day in day out. She had lost one daughter before now. The young woman was Mummy Eleanor’s immediate younger sister. She died at child birth after delivering twins. Now, the old woman dreaded losing another child.

One thing I found amiss was that people were arriving one after another that night. But there was no sign of poignant grief on their faces. So I went on catching my fun.

Mummy Eleanor actually passed on a few minutes past twelve that afternoon and nobody said anything. The excuse was that they didn’t want anything that would make her mother be suspicious. That was a good a good excuse I told myself when the news came to me the following morning.

Why me? Why couldn’t this people reveal their death to me long before it happened so that I could run around and pray to God to help keep; them alive. I cannot understand why people should work; so hard in this life and wouldn’t have the chance to eat the labors of their hand because death came and took them away?

Eleanor Ajose, was a good wife, lover, mother, daughter and a good friend above all. We’ve shared the laughter and the pain. I have been this family, family friend for as long as I started breathing. Eleanor could never let you go on, unhappy with her for days, before she would  call you and explain why she had acted the way she must had acted that made you feel terrible and wanna smash her head, then ask for your forgiveness.

I desire one thing that she had all through her days and this is LOVE! She and her husband were best of friends. He stood by her and told her how much he loved her till she closed her eyes in death. This day I am sure must had been marked out when they first met; just like the day they were saying ‘YES I DO’. When this couple had tiff, quarrel, they settle it in a way that made all of us laughed. They were such an adorable couple. I suppose he must be so lonely now.

Eleanor Ajose, I will miss you for the rest of my days. You were such a sweet mother. May your gentle soul, rest in the bosom of our Lord Jesus Christ.