Tuesday, 19 June 2012

Broken promises- A survivor's tale

"It wasn't meant to end this way", she told herself as she made an attempt to grasp his arm but he shrugged off her hands. "Sweetheart", she cried! "Dont do this to me", "to us" she wailed but he looked at her with such disdain that made her cringe and hold her slightly bulging tummy for comfort. He slammed the door with such force that the picture frame hanging by the door fell to the ground and shattered to a thousand pieces. She picked up the picture and brushed off the shreds of tiny glasses from the faces of the happy couple starring back at her. Faces that held such promises, such love, but like the broken picture frame, now lay in a broken fragment, spewed all over the floor. Gently the stream of tears began to flow. the gentle gasps became heart wrenching sobs that tore at her soul. She felf bereft, cold, with a massive hole in heart. How long she sat huddled in the corner of the room holding the picture frame close to her heart, she didn't know not even the tiny hunger pangs could get her to rise from her new found haven. "It wasn't meant to end this way" she kept repeating to herself as if those words could change this nightmarish past hours and she would wake up beside her love. Life had beeen tough and growing up harsh. But you would never know simply by looking at the gentle, bubbly exterior. She'd always been the life and soul of every party. Not a dull moment in her company. Despite the seemingly glowing personalty layed a fearful little girl. She'd never known real love neither allowed herself to be loved. Love left one vulnerable, open to hurt. She'd seen too many women torn and scared by love and vowed "never to be one of them". Her mother was a victim of a loveless sham of a marriage that eventually killed her. Countless times she'd heard the fights, slamming doors and sometimes the turturous sounds of her mother being pummelled and tossed about like a rag doll.Whatabout the nights she'd hear her mother cry herself to bed and wake up in the morning with a shaky smile and pretend nothing happened the previous night or worse still lie that her red swollen eyes were caused by lack of sleep. "What about the swollen lips, mama", she'd ask but her mother would shrug off the question by giving her a hug and saying it was nothing and now she is dead! She'd vowed never to be anyman's doormat nor a victim like her mum. But the woman cuddled in the corner in a muddled mess gasping through thee gut-wrenching tears stated otherwise. She'd met Pius at an office event and she'd been drawn to him from the moment their eyes met across the room. She'd tried to avoid him all evening and still her trembling hands but she couldn't resist him when he asked her for a dance. That was the beginning of a romance that broke her reserve and seared through the defences she'd built around her heart. He'd promise they'll be together forever and she'd reckoned this must be heaven. Pius was her ideal man. Hardworking, successful gentle, respectful and always treated her as his queen. Money was never an issue. he was generous to a fault. He'd pampered her and she basked in his love. He treated her like a fragile egg. Then he dropped the egg!The news of her pregnancy was meant to be the icing on the cake, a seal of their love. Rather, it turned her prince into a monster. words cant describe the look on his face when she told him of her pregnancy. He pushed her away and demanded she abort the product of their love. He never gave her a reason just demanded she killed their unborn child. Her fairytale romance had become a nightmare! He'd broken her heart. Murdered her one effort at true love. Without any explanation, he messed up her life,slammed the door and walked out, JUST LIKE THAT! As she laid sprawled on the floor, she felt the baby move. It was a barely there movement but she felt it. "What will happen to us little one" she wondered. She struggled to her feet as she felt the first few pangs of hunger. She'd been crying for so long and had lost track of time. But she needed to eat. As she made her way to the kitchen, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Muddled hair and mascara steaming down her face. Her felection reminded her of her mother-battered, broken and with eyes that had experienced too much pain and she resoved never to be the woman in te mirror. She will survive! She dragged herself to the bathroom washed her face, applied fresh make-up and made her way back to the kitchen. Over dinner,she assessed her life and felt a sob caught at the back of her throat but she refused to cry. A bible scripture came to mind "He heals the brokenhearted and bind up their wounds"psalm 147:3. She'd not read her bible in a long time and the tears welled up again. this time she allowed them to flow. She was broken and needed the comfort of God's loving embrace. She admitted that the journey will be tumulteous and she needed the gentle reminder that God gave that "He would never leave us nor forsake us no matter how steeped in sin we are as long as we call to Him. Awashed with a new found peace, she picked up her phone and dialled her closest friend. She needed someone who would walk this new path with her without judging her. A friend who would be there when she will need a shoulder to cry on and she knew just who that person was.

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

My Oyinbo love.

I've wanted to date even marry a white man moreso in the last three years. My desire probably stems from the obvious arguably non existent responsible Nigerian men in my "horizon" or nothing-to-write-home-about number of Nigerian marriages that live a sour taste in my mouth. Marriages that are absolutely not worth desiring. Back home in Nigeria atleast within my limited experience, there were loads of relationships that would make any young lady aspire to be married but what I've seen in Europe baffles my imagination. Maybe its the cold weather like I sometimes tell myself that has frozen the better part of the brains of the men and the women are not exempt from this travesty of what in its original purpose is heaven ordained and approved. A good percentage of couples no longer honor their marital vows(nothing new there) nor show respect for each other either in public or private. No respect whatsoever. Some say it is man's innate nature to be promiscous but i say that's absolute bull$%*#t. A man or woman that fears God will honour his/her marriage vows but there we have it THERE IS NO MORE FEAR OF GOD! Don't get me wrong, the white man is not any better but there are somethings that I've noticed in my oyinbo love that has further heightened my desires to marry a white guy(not necessarily him....I no fit shout biko). he is romantic and has not hidden his intentions from the very first day we met. That's oyinbo for you....most of them say it as they see it..no pretense or guile.(however mushy feelings and ideals are not enough to sustain any relationship.The bible CLEARLY states that can two walk together, except they be AGREED" Amos 3:3. Believe me WE ARE POLES APART ON THE ISSUE OF GODLY RELATIONSHIP). I remember on the way back from our first date, he asked me to drive to the top of a hill so he could point out some interesting landmarks to me. Ofcourse I refused. You may wonder why as he did. My darling, for the simple fact that I dont know him well enough to drive to the top of a hill with and dont want to get tossed to the buttom incase he suddenly gets ungentlemanly(I'm too beautiful to be mangled..lool. guess I've watched too many horror flicks). Trust me, I told him my mind and I'm sure he has never met anyone crazier than moi(i take that as a compliment sha). My only fear with regards to my love interest is that it is not easy to know who is loko amongst them. In Africa,a madman is identified by his lack of clothes but not here, NO SIR! He wants the romantic breaks and weekend away but I would never deliberately put myself in a position where my Christian ideals and beliefs would be jeopardised no matter how much I crave such opportunities. "dont do the crime if you dont want the time".Moreover,I respect my body too much to display before every and any man. I sincerely think it is impossible for him not to make an attempt at my "delectable self" even if i'm confident in my will power not to indulge in any sexual activity. My oyinbo is not rude or disrespectful and he is quick to apologise and admit when he is wrong.Already, he has told me how much he earns and his potential earning ability but this particular oyinbo is not for me though a lady I told about him thinks i'm obviously stupid for not milking him even if it wont work out between us. However, I fear God too much to take advantage of a fellow human being even if the extra cash would be appreciated very much so. I trust God for my life supply and he has never failed. I may not have flowing over but MY JAR OF OIL HAS NEVER RUN DRY....NEVER! NOT FOR A MOMENT! Aside from the obvious cultural differences, I'm still determined to have me an oyinbo love afterall i'm learning to eat their food. It doesn't compare with pounded yam and egusi but e no dey kill person.

Monday, 11 June 2012

What not to wear on a first date.

Seriously, what was I thinking? The brown fitted satin shirt that looked glam on the hanger and always looked good with my dark skinny jeans has finally betrayed me!!!. Mama Mia! If i was a white girl I'm sure everyone in the restaurant would have noticed the crimson colour that was gradually creeping up my neck. Infact, the heat emmiting from my face should have set the whole place on fire. But being ME that I know very well, I held on tightly to my brave facade as the first three buttons on my shirt popped open while I sipped a cup of tea in the middle of an idle conversation with my date. The poor guy immediately lost his chain of thought, babbled for a minute, regained his composure and turned his eyes to the horse race on television but his gaze kept drifting back to my chest as I struggled with difficulty to sort my blouse while trying not to show how embarrassed I was. PHEWWW! PRESS REWIND to earlier that day. It was my first date in ages and ofcourse I was excited. Like a school girl i russled through my wardrobe searching for the perfect outfit that will say "SNAZZY"..LOL. I didnt want to come out as sexy neither did I want to be matronly on this historic, momentous occassion. After,making a muddle on the floor my desperately searching fingers pulled out the next available thing it could find. In my befuddled mind, it was the right choice. Brown is my favourite colour and all I had to do was struggle into a pair of skinny jeans and bring on ROMANCE....lol. Alas! I had forgotten that this snazzy looking number had failed me before and that is why it was relegated to the back of the wardrobe. There was no denying that its in my favourite colour and I loved the satin feel on my body but the truth is that I had grown too big for it. My reluctance to give it up has now cost me ummmm "my dignity". While writing this post I realised that this simple mistake underlies some relationship decisions that eventually end up hurting people. A person that has hurt you before and got the boot out of your life got the boot for a reason but for most people letting go is difficult. so we kind of push "these people" to the back of the wardrobe and they become our go-to people in times of stress, emptiness or simply when one is emotionally depleted. Why else would a girl call an old boyfriend for comfort knowing fully well he is married and out of reach. Ofcourse, the result is a disaster waiting to happen. If it doesnt fit then send it to where it will be gladly appreciated and welcomed. Despite my mini fashion disaster, my date was a success. My date would definitely have someting to remember me by. GOOD FOR HIM, LUCKY MAN! Lesson learnt! On my next date it has to be comfortable, beautiful, decent and sensible. SNAZZY is good also but no more peek-a-boo.LOL

Thursday, 7 June 2012

Seriously need therapy!

He has a lovely smile! Infact, I love the way his eyes twinkle when he smiles! My heart is supposed to skip a beat in anticipation or with longings for more moments like this (atleast according to M&B...thank God wise women have discovered that fictional romantic books aint the best for relationship advice). Rather, my palm was sweaty and my heart skipped a beat in trepidation. What is wrong with me I wondered as I gently ate my Thai curry rice and watched him wolf down his stake and chips(hey! he said he was hungry didnt he?). Aside from the obvious reasons staring me right in the face, why am I scared of him or better still what am I scared of? Its been ages since I was in a relationship aside from that nitwit that i thought would be but never was(shit happens). Today I realised that I am truly scared of any emotional attachment to the opposite sex. For six years I have hidden under the guise of waiting for the right person and saving sex for the marital bed but the truth is how can I give myself when I'm scared shitless about being hurt or making mistakes. I cant even bring myself to give having a relationship a go.Ofcourse, sex outside marriage is a no-no as the bible rightly outlines in Heb 13:4 "Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immorale". But this gal is covering up deeper issues. hmmmm! Sometimes, I tell myself that I'd rather be alone,build my career and have another baby through adoption as I want Josh to have a brother or a sister. Other times I crave the companionship of a partner, someone to call and ask how my day was. I watch some of my married friends and truly desire what they have but other times I love the single life I've built for myself over the years.My date is not as educated as I am neither is he tall dark and handsome but he seemed genuinely nice and wants a real relationship with me. Why am I allowing the errors and hurts of the past hold me back from what might be a beautiful union. I told him we should not rush things and I'll give him feedback after giving the idea of us together another thought but what i trully want to do is crawl under a huge rock and disappear(talk of being complicated). I believe its high time I dealt with the heart of the issue and stop hiding behind excuses, fear, hurt and the past. this sister seriously needs therapy.