Please, no more pasta!!!

 

credits; Musa Haruna!

My wife and I

I love my wife, I loved my wife, it’s quite confusing. Ara used to be a sweet and gentle babe. I couldn’t wait to marry her. Ours was a dream wedding, I was so happy I thought I was going to run mad. She was all that and then some.

I started noticing some of her annoying behaviours after we had our first baby. She would not let anything, not even the baby get in the way of her comfort. I got scared for the baby’s safety and got a nanny. She didn’t seem to bother.

After the second and third children, I realized that the concept of Ara and I was an unbalanced one. I was fulfilling the roles of both parents. She would sit at home and complain about everything, the country, the economy, the kids, me, even her family.

I was relieved when she got a job. She was on the morning shift which meant she had to leave early to resume by 7 am and close by 3 pm. She was the perfect employee. She would wake up even before the roosters began to rustle and prepare for her work day.  At 6 am, she would leave the house. There was never a thought given to the kids well being or care. After work, she would eat whatever she found in the house and sleep or watch movies.

So I became the head nanny. I would bathe the little cuties and prepare their meals. The nanny tried to take charge but I let her take the backseat. Every child deserves at least a parent. Naturally, the children and I bonded and they preferred me to their mother. That got her really pissed. She basically ignored and avoided us.

That’s when I met Hauwa. She was quite the opposite of Ara attitudinally. Where Ara will hold in selfish emotions and be passive aggressive in the most annoying manner, Hauwa was selfless and expressive. She could even give a scold as harsh as my mother’s. she would call to find out where I was and send me home to my boring wife.

Hauwa was a chef. I took to ordering meals from her. She made the best Ogbonno, Egusi and Vegetable soups. Her stew was to die for. She even made snacks and chops for munchies. I would order 2 litre bowls of each and refrigerate in smaller bowls for the kids and I. If Ara noticed that there was food from elsewhere, she never said anything.

Hauwa is very well behaved. She always says that she will never marry any woman’s left overs and I know that whoever succeeds in snagging this one is one lucky dude. I envy him.

I heard my wife complain the other day about the smell of perfume on my clothes, it’s actually the incense that Hauwa burns in her place, the place that I have to go because I don’t want my children to starve and I cannot add the duties of a family cook to my almost single parent role. I did not bother correcting her. As a matter of fact, I even have female perfume in my car that I spritz on the way home from work. I am past caring.

I hear her on the phone complaining to whoever it is she talks to about my behaviour. She doesn’t even care that the kids can hear her, kids that even now treat her as a step mother. It hurts me.

My friends are really pissed off with Ara, none of them comes to visit anymore. One of them, a lawyer has even drafted divorce papers. I stare at them every night. I wonder what I would lose, I really have no wife, my kids have an absentee mother, and I am so unhappy and unfulfilled. This is the one thing that drags me down the most.

Tomorrow I will hand her the papers to see her reaction, just before she rushes out to her beloved morning shift. 

credits

story; ojonugwa sapphire abu

photo; pixgood.com

Crazy Office Experiences 1

I am privileged to have worked in some very cool organizations, and then in some not so cool organizations. The whole idea of 'work experience' is some deep stuff...

Anyways, in one of the last places I worked, it was such a beautiful place, beautiful from the outside. All my friends wanted to have a bite of the 'glamour and beauty'. We were all about appearances, perfect everything, talk about major packaging.

I learnt the most about work ethic and business sense from these guys, top notch public image and branding. It was a most educating experience for my budding-rising-inner- entrepreneur. I cannot express how much I learnt or had to unlearn from my two year work experience in this Organization.

The picture that greeted clients was perfection. Perfect happy staff, lovely picturesque girls, chipper friendly colleagues, and all that. What the client did not see and really had no business seeing was what went down outside the perfect reception.

They did not see the death-traps that were the offices that the staff had to work in. On more than two occasions, we experienced fire outbreaks that made us flee for our lives but had to return to our seats after the physical fires were put out (not bothering about the source of the problem) because we had deadlines to beat.

I remember that we created fun and laughter for ourselves. At least we did in my department. We found a reason to laugh about the numerous challenges that was our work life.

We always looked forward to the end of year (yeah). Traditionally, we would get bonuses which amounted to 150 -200% of our normal monthly salaries (that is what the employee hand book promised). Older staff looked forward to this with joy and anticipation as they had enjoyed it over the years.

I think Management decided that it was not public enough and decided to give bags of rice instead (one for each staff). Older staff lamented the development, for us newbies it was fun. So the bags of rice were stacked outside the office from the first light of day and towards the close of business the staff would pick theirs and take home. All our neighbours would be rainbow coloured with envy.

My second end of year however, there was no bonus whatsoever. We had worked so hard and the sales and profits were up in the sky. The bag of rice was all we had to show. On the said day, the rice arrived earlier than usual and stayed for longer than usual, right in front of the entrance. The process of collection was elaborate. We practically had to sign an undertaking to collect the bag of rice.

I took my bag of rice on the said day and even bought someone else’s. It was a good deal. I happily dropped two bags of rice at home that day and everyone was impressed. Salaries came much later, with dire deductions…

In January when we returned to the office, work resumed, the disappointment of the holiday season behind us, we faced our chores with the renewed strength and vigour of the New Year. I went to the head office to receive funds for an important Project and what did I see or hear? A woman who had been quietly coming for booked appointments with the Boss which never saw the light of day barged into the office and was yelling atop her voice that she gave unbelievable discounts for the bulk purchase of bags of rice and the Company had given her dud cheques. Twice.

I felt the goose bumps on my arm rise to my face. The Boss calmed her down and gave her assurances that she would be paid. She was at that point already being dragged to the authorities for financial crimes.

I sat back and considered what I just witnessed, (which I shouldn’t have) if we were to bring back the rice (laugh out very loud) I had two bags to return. Those bags were ancient history.

I didn’t even have to dig deep to discover that the Company had a reputation of issuance of dud cheques and terrible financial relationships. It took the rice incident to open my eyes to this open secret.

This is funny to me now because I am no longer a staff of the Company and I do not have to imagine the pay cuts that may await me this coming end of year given the crash of the Naira.

Change begins with you, be the change you want to see. We complain about corruption in leadership when in our own dealings with people we only seek to cheat and swindle. Let’s think about this.

 Credits

Story: Ojonugwa Sapphire Abu

Photo: theworkinggirl.com

Am I to be blamed for my husband’s philandering ways?

Jeff came home late last night. He has been coming home late, that is no news. He reeked of cheap slutty perfume and had lipstick stains on his face and shirt.

I laid awake on the couch all night, thinking about what my marital life has turned to. He had not always been like this, we used to be quite the model couple. Jeff was the epitome of fidelity. He was loving and caring and self-sacrificing.

I missed the warning signs. The endless office projects that dragged till late in the night, the business meetings that had to hold in one hotel or the other, the numerous female colleagues that called him at odd hours of the day and night.

At first, I sincerely did not see the red flags and when I did, I pretended not to notice. I was too ashamed and distraught to react. Till people started calling to tell me of his wild and shameless deeds.

When at first I confronted him he profusely denied any unscrupulous behavior. When I showed him evidence, he broke down and wept and promised to stop. He lied. A month later I noticed that the pattern has resumed. Odd calls from ‘colleagues’, projects and business trips, business meetings and training sessions that lasted for days and days.

My friends advised me to up my sexy game. I went to make up school and got expensive creams. I bought sexy dresses and made sure my hair was always magazine perfect. He seemed thrilled for a while and stayed at home with the kids and me. Alas, this was not to last.

The kids, it has always been about them. I do not want them to grow up with a single parent like Jeff did so that they do not end up like him, conflicted and confused. Weak and afraid, running away from the only place where there is love and acceptance. It has always been about them.

For the sake of my sanity I considered leaving Jeff. I was constantly treating STD’s even though I was so clean I did not as much as look at any man. I was depressed and unhappy, my reserve of self-confidence and dignity had eroded to a steep deficit.

I spoke to my mother about this and she rebuked me. She reminded me of the stigma attached to divorce and nasty marriage issues. She even went ahead to tell me some tales of marital woes a number of my peers were enduring. She told me that infidelity was an issue women faced in their marriages but the wise ones made the best out of it and came out with better marriages. She forbade me to speak further on the subject.

It got really bad, Jeff scolded me one day and warned me never to ask him where he had been again. One day, he even slapped me, right in front of these same children I was trying to shield.

I have been to the Pastor and the church has organized counseling classes. They prayed for us and told us to work on our issues. Jeff was so well behaved during the classes but now it seems like I have unleashed a demon.

The perfumes used to smell expensive and luxurious, now they are cheap and slutty if at all. He has taken to alcohol and other vices.

My family and friends look at me with concern and pity, I even imagine that they feel that I am not wise enough or sexy enough or woman enough to keep my man. Everyone has a word of advice for me on what I am not doing right. They make it sound like it is my fault my husband is misbehaving.

Am I to be blamed for my husband’s philandering ways?

Second Chances

Victoria was the first in her family to contract the dreaded Ebola virus. She was pregnant, in her first trimester when the ills started. She lost the pregnancy. Then her father took ill, her brothers followed, her mother and even her grandmother.

She was placed in a death hole called a hospital where she saw death and the grave in all its stages. The health officials never came close without masks and full protective covering. That was in 2014.

A few meters from that same room where she wrestled death and won just a year ago, Victoria just delivered a baby boy. Her husband stands there beaming and rejoicing, holding his beloved son. Victoria cannot control the tears that stream freely down her face.

"My whole family is dead. My mother, my grandmother, my father, my brothers, I am alone with no one to help me, but I am grateful for this opportunity to start a family again."

Yes, the pains they come. Sometimes they linger for so long, other times everything goes wrong. The economy so bad that your resources seem to evaporate? Academic session coming with no hope for funds to pay fees? The biological clock ticking? Friends let you down? Lost a loved one? Failed one of life's examinations? Suffering from a sickness or disease? Living with the aftermath of wrong and unguided choices?

The fact that you can breathe in and breathe out, the fact that you have the presence of mind to ponder on these is a reason to be grateful. Life is an opportunity for change. Every second we live is a gift that is valueless, quite like a blank cheque.

My mother would say, 'if you don't like where you are, get up and change location. You are not a tree, you are not stuck to the ground.' You might ask, what if I cannot get up for change right now? I would say, 'remember Victoria!' She lived in the valley of the shadow of death, lost everything and everyone she loved but she survived. Today even though the shadows hang overhead, she has a reason to be grateful, to celebrate, to re-chart purpose.

You only live once, love the body you live in, dance in the rain, sing with the wind, smell the roses. Today and everyday we wake up and feel the breath in our nostrils and feel our fingers move is what it is, a second chance.

Ojonugwa Sapphire Abu 

Photo credits: Dailymail.com
tags, Ebola survivor gives birth to healthy baby boy