Fall On My Sword 4

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Chapter 3

Chichi was dressing up in her boss’ office. He was answering a call on the sofa. She had rewarded him for blocking her transfer to their Port Harcourt branch in the only way she knew how. Besides that, he had promised to fly 10 of her friends to Ibiza for her bridal shower once Moses proposed. She had already contacted a planner and a travel agent. Her birthday was in a few days and she knew Moses would be planning a surprise. Of course she would pretend to be shocked but there was no way she would be caught without well-manicured nails, a spanking new hairdo and a designer outfit. Whoever expected less did not know her.

She was turning 37 but only her mother knew her real age. Moses thought she was 34, while Didi thought she was 35. Her boss believed her to be 32. She felt as young as 30 and as far as she was concerned one was only as young as she felt.

Didi already knew what kind of ring to advise Moses to buy should he call her and he knew her favourite restaurant. Chichi felt confident she had a well-trained boyfriend who would not embarrass her in front of her friends or social media followers. She blew her boss a kiss as she tucked in her shirt and exited his office. It was 1pm and she had to send some emails to clients.

 

 

I called Tolu to cancel our date. He was shocked because I had been hounding him for a night out for a while. The anxiety in his voice made me laugh. Perhaps I had been too easy. He felt he could cheat on me, ignore me, forget my birthdays and our anniversaries and I would never get angry. In truth, the reason I didn’t mind was that I was busy getting taken care of by other men. Unfortunately, none of them was boyfriend-material; I couldn’t even be seen in public with them but they were generous and made no demands on my commitment. Tolu had them to thank for my legendary, Job-like patience.

Stan deserves a chance. If he turns out to be a waste of time, I will head over to Tolu’s no matter how late it is. He seems to be a great guy though. I have searched him out on social media and he doesn’t appear to have any negative vibe. He puts up way more pictures on Instagram than the average guy but I am willing to overlook a little vanity. Maybe he has reason to be haughty. His Linkedin profile describes him as a realtor and the CEO of Ambience Homes. It appears he deals in high-end apartment complexes and property that are the exclusive preserve of the filthy rich.

I don’t mind at all. Money has never been a turn-off in any relationship. I could probably date a man who I would have to support financially but to have a boyfriend whose income put mine to shame was the goal. No one is going to hear me complaining.

My phone rings; it is Stan. I rush into the bathroom to make sure I look okay. Luckily, I had worn a black dress to work because of the date with Tolu. I simply exchange my work pumps for a pair of silver sandals I had in my bag and spray some perfume. Popping a breath mint into my mouth, I pick up my bag and head for the elevator.

His Range rover is a unique sky blue so it is easy to find. I spot him standing by his car looking into his phone. He is wearing blue jeans that are so tight; I mentally make the sign of the cross. His white shirt is crisp and his shoes are blue suede. I am not warning myself not to drool.

“Hi!” I call to make him look up.

He smiles and I forget my resolve not to drool.

 

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To Be Continued

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Cheers, Dr.N

 

 

 

Fall On My Sword 3

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Hello Muses, forgive me for my absence. It was due to unforeseen circumstances. I’ll try to make up for it.

Enjoy.

 

 

Two days later, I get a call from the Range rover guy. He introduces himself as Stanley and I immediately christen him Stan. Chichi says this is the best way to get intimate with a guy within minutes. He addresses me by name before I tell him my name and I laugh because I know he used a phone app to discover it. His voice is so incredibly husky, it gives me the shivers.

“I am sorry I didn’t call earlier,” he apologizes.

“That’s fine,” I lie.

It is not fine. I had spent those 2 days regretting making the 1st move. I had only tried it twice before. The first time, he turned out to be married and I have a principle of avoiding married men. The 2nd time, the guy was such a cheapskate; he tried to make me pay for our first date by pretending he forgot his wallet in the car. I offered to go and get it for him but he smiled and said “Or you could just help me out.” I asked for the ladies room and made my way home from there. I had already blocked his number in the taxi.

Chichi laughed at me and insisted that I not give up. As far as she was concerned, the more times I tried, the better I would get at it. I was not so sure.

“How does lunch today sound?” he asks.

I glance at my watch. The time is 3pm. “Lunch? It’s 3!”

“Really, I didn’t know. I have been so busy. How about a late lunch then? I really want to see you.”

Suddenly someone is in a hurry after I nearly developed stomach ulcers from worrying.”

“Tomorrow is fine. How does 12 noon sound?”

“Ouch!”

“What is the matter?”

“That felt like ‘rejection’. Ouch!” he makes an exaggerated sound.

I can’t help laughing.

“Let me buy you dinner. I promise to be good,” he begs.

“I already made plans…”

“I’ll do a video call on my knees if that is what it takes.”

“You know what, I’ll see you at 5pm for drinks but I have to leave at 7pm. I have a work dinner.”

“Awesome. You made my day. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I make a face but refrain from replying. I don’t really like being pushed and I do have a date at 7 with Tolu (even if I plan to dump him once I verify that Stan is a worthy replacement). Tolu has been the one I use to escape my mom’s sharp tongue. Each time she calls to ask me when I am going to fix a date for my wedding, I wonder what I would have done if I had no boyfriend. No matter what anyone says, I am not letting him go till I get into another relationship.

I cannot remember a time when I didn’t have a man. God created too many fine men for me to be walking around morose, mourning any relationship. The minute I sense a man growing cold on me, I put myself out there so that someone awesome (in this case Stan) appears like a knight in shining armor and rescues the princess (my humble self). My mantra has been “Fly like a butterfly; sting like a bee”. And it has worked for me for years. I am not about to change strategy; not at 33 years.

Stan and I exchange a few more pleasantries and end the call. I begin to strategize on how to get out of my date with Tolu. Tolu and I met online. He helped me find my present job and also bought me my first car. Thereafter I have taken care of myself most of the time. It is only when I need something extravagant that I get someone to pay for me. That someone should have been Tolu but he is as slippery as an eel; here today, gone tomorrow. Not long ago, a girl called me to warn me off him. I laughed at her. She actually thinks she owns him. Chichi simply arranged for some rough-looking fellows to show up in her parents’ home and threaten her. I am sure her parents will keep her off Tolu; if for no other reason, for their own safety.

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“Moses, how long has your girlfriend been saved?” Nedu asked.

He frowned, joined his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “I am not sure. She said she has always gone to church and you can see she loves the Lord,” he replied.

“How am I supposed to see that?”

“She left her Anglican church to start attending ours and she is even willing to go through our bible class to register as a member. I think that shows commitment.”

“Is she filled with the Holy Spirit?”

“I am not sure…”

“Does she pray; scratch that, do you both pray together?”

“We have actually been spending a lot of time getting to know each other, trying to confirm if we are compatible.’

“That’s good. How do you confirm compatibility?”

“You know…” He squirmed. “As a couple, you need to be compatible…”

“Okay, I see you don’t want to talk about it. Has your prayer partner met her?”

“Chuks? That one wanted to snatch my girl. He was misbehaving around her. I don’t want to ever have two of them in the same room again.” Moses gesticulated angrily.

“Misbehaving? Did he come on to her?”

“He was smiling like a foolish puppy, moping at her with his tongue nearly hanging out…what’s the word? Drooling, yeah…drooling!” Moses made a hissing sound.

“That is serious. Did you confront him?”

“No, he will only deny it. I know she’s a great catch but she is my catch not his.” Moses took a gulp from the glass of juice in front of him.

They were in Nedu’s house having a chat after rehearsing a song Nedu was to sing in church the next Sunday. Nedu could not explain the disquiet he always felt when Chichi’s name came up. He had devoted a few days to praying for clarity but all he heard was “There is a way that seems right to a man.” He did not know what to do with it. As was the case whenever he was nervous, he began to tap his right foot on the floor.

“Is anything wrong?” Moses asked.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but I feel you should postpone the proposal and fast about this decision. Marriage is a big commitment and you need to hear from God.”

“Are you not the one who said that God will not come down and choose for us? Didn’t the bible say “he that finds”? You need to loosen up, man!”He threw a playful punch at his shoulder.

Nedu rubbed at his shoulder, absent-minded. “Hmm…”

Na wetin?”

“I have not heard anything that convinces me that this lady has any spiritual heritage worth mentioning. Besides, you both have been using your time together to explore yourselves sexually,” Nedu said.

“How did you know?” Moses was genuinely shocked.

“The Spirit of God told me; and He said that your sense of judgment is getting more clouded each time you compromise like that. Have you forgotten our purity pledge? You should have let Chuks know you were under pressure. Instead you accused him of having an interest in your girlfriend. That is the devil’s tool-isolation.”

Moses bowed his head and heaved a sigh. “Bro, I won’t lie; I have been trying to control myself around her but bodi no be firewood. She’s the kind of girl I always dreamed about but never thought I would marry. I can’t even keep it together when I’m with her. I have tried binding, loosing, communion, feet-washing, all sorts of things; but the moment we are alone…”

“You are binding what you are carrying around?” Nedu asked in humor.

Moses looked up and laughed.

“What is her stance on chastity? Is she up for it?”

“She is. In fact she said had abstained for 3 years before we met. One unfortunate guy broke her heart and made her swear off guys till we met. That is why I feel like I have been a huge disappointment to God and to her. I am supposed to be the man. I am supposed to keep it together. I should be the one protecting her innocence. Instead, I have been the problem.” Moses bit his lip in regret.

“Let’s pray together. I believe all is not lost. God will always show us the way out if we ask.”

 

 

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Kindly leave a comment, like, share and retweet @nenabekee.

Cheers,

Dr.N

Fall On My Sword 2

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Didi and Chichi were chatting with Moses when Nedu approached. He barely noticed Didi as Moses, beaming with smiles gave him a hug and introduced Chichi. She gave him her best smile (the one that said I know I am all that and you wish I was with you but it’s never going to happen). He shook her hand and smiled back for he couldn’t help himself. She was gorgeous.

Father, remember me too. How did this bro who can barely muster the courage to ask a woman out win this stunner? Wonders shall never end!”

“Meet my best friend Didi,” Chichi was saying. “She is a project manager for Scholl Oil.”

“Hello. I hope you enjoyed the service,” he said to Didi as they shook hands.

“I did. You sing very well.”

“That’s right. You led the singing. I really enjoyed it,” Chichi added. She had the habit of cutting in when Didi was speaking but Didi was used to it. It made people assume she was quiet but it was just easier to give in to Chichi who hugged all the attention like a plant hugs the sun on a chilly day.

“Thank you. I won’t hold you up. It was nice meeting you,” he patted Moses on the shoulder. “Have a good one.”

“Okay.”

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I watched Nedu as he left, my eyes following his tall, dark and slim frame for as long as I could do so discreetly. He is handsome and his face is given to smiling. I can tell from the laugh lines around his mouth and his bright eyes. However, I know he will not be mine because he is already enamored with Chichi and no man I have ever dated has fallen for her. Besides, I can tell he will not be as easy to fool as Moses was. I heard him lead the worship and I can sense he is different from Moses; probably older and wiser.

“Let’s take my car,” Moses suggests. “Didi can drive yours.”

Of course Chichi agrees. I don’t feel upset because I would rather be the 3rd wheel than be all alone this Sunday. Tolu the boyfriend is out of town, I have no plans for the day and I want the opportunity to watch Chichi work her magic on Moses.

“I’ll drive on the condition that you play the guitar for us,” I say.

“Of course I will,” he agrees.

Chichi makes a face at me but I smile at her. I know she is worried that I have learned so much from her that I am becoming a threat; so I grin. She can’t get rid of me at this point because Moses will wonder why. He lifts his guitar case with his left hand and takes her hand in his right. We turn and head to the parking lot where she hands me her keys and struts off with him.

I drop my bag on the passenger seat and pull off my shoes after getting in. The car is a 6-year old Toyota Camry. My car is the Lexus SUV of last year. I have not bought myself a husband-hunting car because I want to see if Chichi’s approach will work. She assured me years ago that she knew exactly how to get any man to propose to her and that our lifestyle would not hinder her from getting a husband. It is not that she lacked offers for marriage but she wanted one in which she would be in control. Many men have promised her heaven and earth if she would marry them; young, old, married, widowed, divorced, engaged, all manner of men. And the majority of them were rich and influential.

“Nne, a cho gi m onye ga-aku m ihe biko (I don’t want a wife-beater please),” she would say.

My Igbo was not as fluent so I usually replied her in English.

“I won’t present a false image of myself just to get married,” I argued.

“Noro there (Keep waiting)! These men are all the same. They want an accomplished wife but when they marry her they want to turn her to an accomplished housekeeper. Ara gbachi kwa ha nti! (May madness strike them)”

“Not my own husband, please.”

“They cannot all be the same. My dad was a pretty decent man.”

“Yes, he was. Still, in old age, he moved out and remarried.”

“Well, you can’t blame him. My mother was the one who had an affair.”

“Do you know what she was enduring? If he was the one who cheated, wouldn’t she have been expected to forgive and forget? Gini ka I na-ako ihe a? (What do you mean?). I hate double standards.”

“I am not saying he was perfect. I am only pointing out that he was faithful throughout the time they lived together.”

“Hapu ihe a (Forget it). Men are scum!”

I thought about our argument while driving to the restaurant where we were having lunch. The Camry made a squeaking noise each time I tried to negotiate a bend and the steering wheel was stiffer than that of my car. Otherwise, the journey was smooth. I could see Moses pulling into the lot in his old Honda CRV. It was so old that I couldn’t even tell what year it was made and that was unusual for a car freak like me. One of my hobbies was guessing the year a car was made. This one was falling apart but it was a blessing as far as Chichi was concerned.

You see, the Honda was the reason they met. It had broken down in front of her office when Moses stopped to use the ATM on that street. He played the guitar professionally and was on his way to someone’s home to coach them. She spotted him from her Range Rover but parked inside and walked out to offer him assistance. Before he knew what he was in for, she had called him a mechanic, exchanged numbers with him and dug her well-manicured claws into his consciousness. The rest, as they say, was a piece of cake.

 

 

Chapter 2

Nedu sensed disquiet as he left Moses and Chichi. Moses had already confided in him that he was planning to propose to her that month. He had told him that she was beautiful but when he met her he realized Moses’ vocabulary was seriously wanting. This was the kind of girl he suspected would be high maintenance and he wondered how Moses would cope with his earnings from playing the guitar. Also, Moses was unable to answer any question about Chichi’s spiritual heritage; he just went on and on about how caring she was and how understanding she was. Nedu smelled a rat.

The issue was that Moses had been turned down by at least 3 of the girls he had asked out in church. As far as Nedu was concerned, it wasn’t that he was a bad catch; he just went for the wrong girls. First, Moses tried to befriend the pastor’s daughter. At almost 40, they had an 18 year age gap. The girl was a graduate of an Ivy League school who had lived in the US for most of her life. She had a job in an architectural firm and was also running the church’s school for the less privileged. Who in his right senses would expect her to get excited about his offer?

He tried to introduce Moses to more level-headed sisters in church but no; he wanted very young, flighty and immature girls. Chichi was no spring chicken but Nedu had 2 sisters and he could tell that her handbag alone could replace Moses’ jalopy of a car. If she loved him genuinely, there was a chance of them being happy together but he just couldn’t put his finger on what he sensed.

As was his custom, Nedu sat in his car and prayed. He always put both hands on his upper abdomen when he needed to hear from God. It reminded him of the scripture “Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water”. That was his way of focusing; tuning out the distraction of church-goers filing out of the premises and all the thoughts besieging his mind in order to pray.

He prayed in his heavenly language, moving his lips slightly but keeping his eyes open so those passing would not know what he was doing. A few had already accused him of being ‘too spiritual’. He didn’t want to spook them any further. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be to his disadvantage the day he decided it was time to marry. Right now, he wasn’t in a relationship. He had only been in one since he got born again at the age of 18 and she broke up with him because her parents wanted her to marry someone from her own tribe. From that day, he resolved not to get into any other relationship except God revealed to him that that was the lady he would marry.

**************************************

I was on my way home from Chichi’s house where I had parked when I saw him. He was tall, fair, drop- dead gorgeous and dressed to the nines. At the gate leading to Chichi’s estate, he sat in his very new Range rover, probably waiting for whoever he was visiting to sign him in. I hit reverse and pulled in beside him. It was time to pull out a card from the bag of tricks I had learned from Chichi.

I got down without turning off my engine to beat the security guard who was already approaching perhaps to let him in and walked over to him. Tapping on his window, I gave him my best smile. It’s not as good as Chichi’s but it’ll have to do. He winds down and looks askance at me. I lean forward, not too provocatively so as not to put him off but just enough to convey my message.

“Today is your lucky day. It’s ‘give-your-number-to-a-stranger’ day,” I say.

He smiles at me. Of course he can’t help himself and I know it. I stretch out my hand for his phone. He puts it in my hand. I type in my number and dial it.

“What’s the name?” he asks as he collects his phone.

“You’ll find out when you call,” I reply and turn to walk back to my car.

I can feel his eyes following me so I make sure that my walk will remain in his memory for a long time.

 

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Fall On My Sword

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Chapter 1

 

 

Chichi invited me to her church. I know she is supposed to meet up with her boyfriend Moses, who plays guitar in their church. Moses is “the one”. Of course he doesn’t know it yet but his life has been planned for him. He is not tall enough but he is handsome and kind and he doesn’t ask too many questions. What more does a girl need in a husband? Money? No, money is for the desperate, thirsty girls out there who want to eat their cake and have it. Chichi works in an investment firm and handles the portfolios of the richest men and women in Nigeria. She has a sugar daddy for career advancement, one for trips abroad and another for high-end expenses. Moses is the one who will marry her and give her the title “Mrs”. I envy him. He is getting a great girl.

Their church has a very fancy name; The Shepherd Centre. I like it. I have only been here twice but the music is always great and the guys drool-worthy. What our native wear does to men; only God will deliver young ladies!

She drove us there in her humble car, the car that she used when husband-hunting. Moses has never seen her G-wagon. He doesn’t know of her 2 houses and property in Port-Harcourt. As far as he is concerned, she is a secretary in her firm and earns N200, 000.

That is just her basic salary, however. Last night she spent double that amount on the champagne alone while we clubbed. It was the birthday of a mutual friend and we threw her a party complete with male strippers, sex toys, weed and a few other substances guaranteed to lift our spirits from the dreariness of the Lagos hustle.

“Didi help me put on my bracelet,” Chichi asked.

She has called me Didi rather than Ndidi from the first day we met. She wanted our names to rhyme. Fortunately, everyone already called her Chichi rather than Chizitere Onyema. We met during NYSC (I’m sure you have heard about the compulsory 1 year service to the nation that gives the Nigerian government the right to fling you to the far corners of the earth and pay you a pittance for teaching children who have no intention of learning anything). During the orientation in Nassarawa state, she was the toast of the camp with her fair oval face and brown eyes, her figure that was just at the edge of being voluptuous and her ‘come-hither’ voice. We became friends when she rescued me from a soldier who was harassing me for avoiding the parade. He was already raising his voice when she slid over (I was hiding in mammy market) and said in that her ‘come-hither’ voice “Officer, please excuse me!”

He turned to stare at her like he was on puppet-strings, mouth-agape. Since then I have seen her do this to many people of both sexes. Her voice is so soft and sweet that when she speaks you feel sorry for her. I have seen her end quarrels just by saying “Hello”. (Like I said earlier, Moses is a lucky man). Anyway, the soldier pointed at his chest like a child and said “Me?”

She nodded and made a sign for him to come to her. He smiled sheepishly and followed her. I didn’t wait to find out where they went but ran back to the parade ground. A few minutes later, I saw her join the parade. I later found her and said thanks. She waved away my gratitude, smiling.

“What did you tell him?” I asked.

“O, he’s a teddy bear. I told him I needed help learning to march. He assumed I was offering more,” she said and laughed. Even her laugh was alluring. The way she threw back her head and opened her mouth very slightly such that a gentle ringing sound came forth; I knew I had to enroll in her school of seduction.

8 years later, I think I have done well for myself. This morning I am wearing an Ankara print shift dress but it was made by one of the big names in Nigerian fashion so it is remarkable. My nude shoes are louboutins, my make-up is great (I paid a lot of money for professional tutoring after all), my purse is chanel and my fragrance is Versace. I may not be as pretty as Chichi but the package is alright. Maybe I will get noticed by one of the brothers in the choir as well. The current boyfriend Tolu , is not saying anything that sounds like “Marry me”. I am not going to keep waiting for him to choose me from his myriad of girls (Yes I know he is unfaithful but there is this saying about a bird in hand…).

I help Chichi put on her bracelet and we get down from her car. A quick check in the car mirror and we start walking into the church, bibles in hand. She is wearing a yellow dress that clings to her in ways help you appreciate her flat abdomen (if you can take your eyes off her figure). We were 15 minutes late. The ushers in black smile at us, shake our hands and guide us to seats on the 2nd row to the right. I drop my possessions on my seat and rise to join the singing. The songs are new to me (I grew up catholic but I have attended many Pentecostal churches these past 4 years in Lagos). I fix my gaze on the screens so I can learn the lyrics or at least mouth them so I don’t look disinterested. No brother in this church will give me a 2nd glance if I don’t look spiritual enough.

It is actually not hard to get caught up in the emotion of the music. I spot Moses on the stage, strumming his stuff but I can’t concentrate on him. After a while, I am in my own world, Chichi, Moses, the crowd fades away. I find myself raising my hands to worship, swaying to the music. One song in particular keeps ringing in my mind long after we sit down and the pastor begins to speak. I barely hear him. I find myself distracted, not by the fashion of other attendees as used to be the case but by thoughts I cannot explain their origin.

“Turn to Psalm 33 verse 11,” the pastor was saying. “The counsel of the Lord stands forever, the thoughts of his heart to all generations. Nothing can thwart God’s plan for your life, not your mistakes, your stubbornness, your pride, nothing! He sacrificed his son on the cross of calvary. That gives him a right to your life. You think you own it but you are living on borrowed time.”

I felt a stab in my heart. A wave or tremor or something went through my stomach. I glanced at Chichi. She was chewing gum, her face impassive. No one else around me looked like they felt what I was feeling. I sat up and crossed my legs. Maybe it was the moi-moi I ate in the club that caused the rumble in my stomach. Flicking my hair over my shoulder, I took my gaze off the pastor. Suddenly, he was too intense for my comfort. I brought out my phone and began to check twitter. My timeline provided the much needed distraction. Soon, the disquiet eased and I relaxed.

Maybe I ought to find the restroom after the service.”

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The service was over but the music director wanted to speak to Nedu.

“Good job bro!” he gave him a hi-5.

“Praise God! I thought my voice would be cracked after last night.”

“No, it was fine.”

“Yeah”

“Why did you drag that song for so long though? It went on forever. I asked Veno to start a new song on the keyboard to give you a cue but you didn’t notice.”

“I did notice but I don’t know why God just wanted me to keep singing that song. Each time I tried to change it, I felt I should stick with it.”

“Okay, I won’t argue with that. Thankfully, it didn’t get boring.”

“I have to go. Moses wants to introduce me to someone.”

“He does? That spiritual brother? I didn’t know he has a girlfriend,” Teni laughed as he spoke.

“Neither did I!”

“I want the full gist…with pictures, my guy.” He extended a hand for a handshake as Nedu laughed and turned to leave.

 

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To be continued

 

 

******

 

Kindly comment, like, share and follow me on twitter @nenabekee

I hope to post 2 drafts every week.

Cheers,

Dr.N

Emotional Intelligence

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I have been learning about emotional intelligence for some months now. At an event recently, I saw 1st hand just how important it is in our daily lives. Emotional intelligence has many definitions but one of my favorites is this “It is the ability to recognize and manage emotions in yourself and others”. There is a gift called empathy. When you step into the shoes others or try to see things through their eyes, you not only win them over, they will even defend you.

I was invited to give a health talk to a group of professionals as a panelist along with 3 other health care professionals. Before we were called up, a lady spoke on etiquette. I missed the beginning of her speech but I just got funny vibes from her. She probably did not mean to but she came across as combative and judgmental rather than engaging. I put it down to her personality type but what happened next was shocking. Questions were requested from the audience and a lady came forward and took the microphone to speak.

“Please Ma, you said that we do our jobs ‘anyhow’ because we know that we will be paid whether or not we come to work. That is not true because some of us love our jobs and do it with all our hearts,” she said.

The lady who was giving the speech looked shocked. I could not believe my ears as well but there was more to come. The MC asked politely, “What is your question?”

“Ma, you mentioned magic words. Could you use your magic word and say ‘I’m sorry’ to us?”

By this time my mouth was hanging open. A couple of audience members were shouting that the speaker had not generalized but said “some people do their jobs anyhow” while others were demanding the apology. It was brutal. The speaker explained that her statement was misquoted but went ahead to apologize (which I praise her for). The audience then applauded.

This lady had given a well-researched and delivered speech but a lack of empathy ruined it for her at the end. I bet so many will remember her for the gaff rather than the pearls of wisdom she dropped earlier.

Let me narrate a 2nd story. A number of friends of mine were complaining about their husbands’ lack of attentiveness to them. They felt their husbands were not spending as much time as they would have liked listening to them or talking with them. Rather they brought work home or watched TV. I decided to get my husband’s perspective. He said my friends were right about needing attention but were going about it the wrong way. In his opinion their husbands were under pressure trying to meet up with societal and family obligations and the more my friends demanded attention the more they alienated their men. He said their husbands would feel they were under attack and also lash out. If they attempted to be supportive, their partners would see them as confidantes i.e. part of the solution not part of the problem. This ensures that you have a partner who rushes home to tell you all about his/her day because you will listen first and empathize.

Even with friends of the same sex, no one likes a griper. I am sorry to say there are people whose calls I avoid because 15 minutes with them will rob me of my peace of mind.

Today, give someone the benefit of the doubt, a long rope, a break, name it

See through the eyes of others.

Be the 1st to forgive.

Listen without making assumptions.

I have learned that only God promised to always be there for you even until the end of time. Others can be busy or unavailable. Next time you can’t find anyone to unburden yourself to, look up and say “Hi, Jesus! Are you up for a chat?”

And do write me to share what He tells you.

 

Cheers,

Dr.N

 

 

 

Esau’s Pottage

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When I was still single, I had this patient who was middle-aged; a politician with a lot of cash to throw around. The reason he got my number(which I usually withheld) was that I referred him to an ENT specialist and he requested to be able to call me to speak to him if need be. Subsequently, he kept in touch, calling occasionally just to say hello and so on. The staff of course loved him cause he was a big tipper. Whenever his posh car with the government license plate  rolled in, even those who should have closed for the day would hang on, hoping for a “blessing”.

One day, he called me in the afternoon.

“Good evening, sir”, I greeted. (Note he had a leadership position in church that came with a title).

“My doctor! How na?”

“Fine sir.”

“I am eating **** in **** restaurant. Would you like to join me? Let me send my car for you.”

Now picture me, fantasizing about myself being chauffeured in that posh car with good air conditioning, insulated from the harsh Niger Delta sun, arriving said restaurant like a ‘queen’, being served all sorts of delicacies, where I proceed to eat myself to stupor. The smell of hospital antiseptic jars me back to my senses.

“No, thank you sir. I have had lunch.” (Aunty long-throat whispers in my head ‘Liar! You have not!” but I ignore her voice.)

“Are you sure? They have**** and ***. Have you tasted****?”

(By this time I am shaking my head like MFM prayer warriors muttering in tongues to bind the devil)

“No, thanks again. Have a good meal. I have to see a patient. (Another lie!). Bye now.”

He never asked again even though he called me for many other reasons through the years. A few years back, I was married and living in Lagos at this time, he called me out of the blues. I greeted him heartily.

“Doc, I don’t know how to tell you this. I need a favour.”

“Shoot.”

“Well…it’s just that…I wish you were in town I would have come to see you to ask for advice.”

I wonder why he is stuttering. What could be making him so nervous?

“Why not tell me what the problem is; I could be able to help even though I am far away.”

“Is it not all these small small girls? They don’t know how to do the right thing.”

“Small girl? Is your daughter ill?

“No, not my daughter. It’s one small friend I have…(Big shot actually sounds sheepish). She said she did not see her period.”

I am tempted to sound obtuse and ask him to go to her house, take permission from her mother and help her find it but “Not today Satan! Stay professional Dr. N!)

“How old is she?”

“19”

“Haba! That is too young. An older girl might have known to use protection. Why didn’t you use protection?”

I can feel him squirming over the phone…even MTN can feel it. His money, cars, connections cannot protect him from the wrath of an Igbo woman.

“I used condom. She said…I don’t even know what she said…”

“Are you sure she is pregnant? Have you done a test?”

“She showed me the pregnancy test she did. It was positive. Doc, how do we flush it out? Is there any friend you have who can do it for me?”

“You know I don’t do such things!” I scolded.

He winced. “I know but maybe your friends?”

“I don’t have friends who do abortions. You know it is illegal. Why not keep the baby?”

“Ha! You know my status. I am an *** in church and she is a small girl.”

I thought for a while. There were 2 possibilities.

  1. She was pretending to be pregnant to con him out of money
  2. She was actually pregnant and if I didn’t intervene he would take her to a quack and she would end up with a septic abortion or even worse die.

“Go to the hospital, call one of the doctors aside and tell him you need to ask him something privately. If he is willing to get involved, tell him your predicament and he will make sure it is done right. But first, he should do another test to confirm she is actually pregnant. If you insist on going ahead, ensure it is done under the strictest of sanitary conditions, and keep an eye on her afterwards to prevent any complications.”

“Okay, doc. Thank you.”

“Sir…you need to choose your girlfriends carefully. 19 years is too young!”

He mumbles something unintelligible.

“And you need to use protection. Carry a condom around. You will protect yourself from scandal and protect Madam from catching something. These girls are not loyal.” I was speaking fast because I knew he had had an earful and would soon end the call.

“Thank you”

***************************************************************************************************************

I never heard from him again.

Now the moral of the story… Esau was so hungry that he sold his birthright for Jacob’s pottage. If I had gone out with this man, even if I didn’t have sex with him, I would not have the temerity to call him out.

We are in this world as a light to expose the deeds of darkness. Make your standards evident once people meet you and they will leave you alone.

There are men who cannot call out their friends who are beating their wives just because they are indebted to them. Stop borrowing money you cannot repay to impress people who do not care about you.

There are ladies who paid people to write their exams, now they can’t raise their heads when people who know you were an arts student wonder how you ended up an Engineer.

Stop laughing at crude jokes in order to be politically correct. Even if you are not bold enough to speak against things, stand up and walk out. Psalm 1 talks about how blessed is the one who does not sit in the seat of scorners and mockers. You believe…who knows?

Making your stand known also protects you from undue pressure. I remember my husband telling me how a colleague at work was about to invite him to hang out with him in a club when another colleague interrupted and said “Leave him O! He doesn’t drink or hang out.” One day when the ribbing got too much, I told him to accept their invitation if he felt like it. He was such a bore at their outing cause while they were getting wasted he was worrying about the work he brought home and wishing he had his laptop. Suffice it to say they never invited him out  again.

You have the power.

JUST BE!

Cheers, Dr.N

***************************************************************************************************************

 

If you would like to chat send me an email @ drnsmusings@yahoo.com or find me on twitter @nenabekee

Stay Approachable

Posted on Updated on

So I was in This Present House today and Mrs. R was teaching on the story of Namaan in 2kings 5 who was an army general. First of all  I had always battled with an army general who had leprosy but she put it in context. There is every possibility that he contracted it in the course of things; not that he was born a leper. I was wondering why his wife’s slave girl, a war prisoner from Israel should feel so concerned about his condition that she recommended Elisha. Again, when Namaan refused to dip in the river Jordan as prescribed by Dr. Elisha, his servants referred to him as “Father” when urging him to try the treatment. I can’t imagine a ferocious and intimidating warrior being referred to so fondly.

 

The thought that hit me was that the man had dual personalities.

Years ago, I spent about 3 months working in the staff clinic of a polytechnic. I had 2 male colleagues, a matron and a number of female nurses to contend with. My duties were to do medical fitness examinations for students who had gained admission, treat common illnesses in staff and students and offer first aid in cases of emergency. I loved the job because I got to meet a lot of young people. I was probably 26 or 27 (I looked 20 cause I was so skinny) so I got a bit of attention from those who marveled that I had finished school already.

I remember the colleague who was senior to me telling me not to apply myself too much as the pay was not worth it. The other one refused to touch patients without gloves because he didn’t want to catch something (even though he could have just washed his hands). I had to be all things to all men.

To my senior colleague, I was the humble, unobtrusive lady who only did her duty.

To the other one, I tolerated his skittishness though I felt like calling him out.

To the matron I was the ever available doctor who got there before the others and saw as many patients as she referred. She always knew I had her back.

To the nurses, I was friendly but firm. They knew what I expected of them and they did not need too many reminders.

To the staff I was bristling with medical information, always ready to counsel and give my opinion on everything from marriage to child care to boyfriend issues (I know what you are thinking. Lol).

When I got home I became the daughter of highly accomplished parents who needed me to listen to them and give them encouragement.

Did I mention I was in the choir and had to also remember to drop the day’s work and get into worship from the gate?

Where am I going with this? On the day I had to leave the job, the staff organized a going-away party for me and got gifts and made speeches with everyone saying something kind. My other 2 colleagues kept  asking what the hullaballoo was all about seeing I had not been there for long.

We all have different roles in life and people have their expectations of us but we must learn to adapt without losing our identity. This is something only the  spirit of God can enable you do. If you are constantly asking him “Am I doing what  you need done? How best can I serve you today? Is there anything you want me to make happen?” then you give God room to touch others.

You can keep insisting “This is just how I am! I cannot change for anybody! I don’t pretend!” but the truth is you are missing opportunities to witness. Namaan was a big boy at the war front but at home he was a kind master. He probably treated his staff fairly. Maybe they were impressed with his faithfulness to his wife or he paid them regularly or he made sure they were well-fed. Whatever be the case he knew how to be tough when he needed to be and kind when necessary.

Dear muse, have you carried your “Nobody should mess with me!” face that you use in intimidating opponents at work to your home? Is your witness affected by your loud voice that drowns that of others? You are not only setting yourself up for a fall, you are a prime candidate for elevated blood pressure and all sorts of cardiac disease. Stress is a proven precursor of many illnesses. Why not take that mask off, relax your shoulders, take a deep breath and put a smile on your lips.

Now raise your hands and say “I am not too accomplished to be approachable”

That’s better! See you in health. I love you.

 

Cheers,

Dr. N.

 

Note: I do not use the phrase “Dual personality” in the same context as the psychiatric term.

Also, I thank you for your patience while I nursed the latest addition to my family. Yes, Dr. N has 4 children. All I can say is if you have had enough get contraception ASAP. lol. I will be more regular, I promise. And thanks for all the messages. I really appreciate the love. God bless you

 

 

 

 

 

The Woman I Deserve 25- Conclusion

Posted on

Happy young businessman using digital tablet --- Image by © Sonja Pacho/Corbis
Happy young businessman using digital tablet — Image by © Sonja Pacho/Corbis

 

Chapter 10

It was 3 months after PA made it known that he was in a relationship. He didn’t exactly announce it in church but he introduced her to close associates and key staff. There were mixed reactions as expected but Ama’s behavior shocked him the most.

“That girl is not suitable for you, PA and you know it!” she had said during a heated argument.

“Is it up to you to decide?” he asked quietly.

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I apologize for my tone. PA, I have loved you like a son even though I am only a few years older than you. I will not mislead you. She may paint herself as an angel but I think she is coming to destroy everything you have worked for over the years.”

“How can you say that?” he cried.

“She is selfish, can’t you see? Why did she hide the boy from you in the first place? She knew that no decent man would want to be a step-father to a chinko!”

“Ama!”

“PA, I have to be blunt. This church belongs to all of us and we have invested so much in it. I don’t want people to make fun of me that my pastor was fooled by a loose woman.”

“Let that be the last time you will say that, Ama. Only God reads hearts. She is better than those who aborted their own babies.”

“PA, she should have aborted that boy!” she spat.

“Ama, you can close for the day. This discussion is over.” He rose to show her he meant business.

She rolled her eyes as she left his office. At her desk, she sat stiffly, head in her hands, elbows on the table, trying to hold back tears of frustration. She could only blame his stubbornness on some kind of witchcraft. There was no other explanation for a man who could have any woman on earth to choose the one woman who would divide the church.

Her phone rang but she ignored it till it rang twice. She answered when she saw it was Pastor Odion calling.

“What did he say?” He cut right to the chase.

“He has not changed his mind,” she replied.

“I have told him that he should not be in a hurry. Why not take some time, maybe two years and pray for God to give him a wife? I don’t understand what hold this girl has on him.”

“I partly blame myself. I should have pushed harder for that Toyosi. Maybe, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Anyway, a few leaders and I are talking. We are thinking of starting something shortly,” he said.

“Starting something?” she asked.

“Yes, a new ministry.”

“Wow! That is serious.”

“It is still hush-hush for now but we just can’t see ourselves under a mummy pastor whose story has a comma.”

Ama shook her head in disbelief. “Who else is in on this?”

“Chief Ebenezer has offered us some property. Abike has pledged some good millions. We have some good people.”

“Ebenezer who owns Karat plc?”

“Yes. The person we have kept out of the loop is Ovie. I don’t trust him.”

Ama thought for a moment. “He is PA’s guy.”

“All of us are loyal to him but our loyalty to God supersedes. The kingdom is above any man and we have a clear word from God on the requirement for a leader. Saint Paul said a leader should be the husband of one wife, not given to drink and have control over his family. The wife of a leader should be above reproach,” he postulated.

“I’ll have to think about all this,” she said after a period of silence.

“That’s fine but I trust you to keep this to yourself. We would really love to have you on board. I know you are the one who keeps the office running and it just tells poorly on PA that he can disregard your concerns despite the key role you play.”

“I appreciate that. Let me get back to you.”

‘Don’t take too long. The king’s business requires haste.”

“I’ll do my best.”

 

*******************************************************************

 

Pastors Onyema and Mofe invited PA for a chat when the rumors started flying. They met at Pastor Mofe’s house. He had guessed why he was there but PA was unfazed. It should be a small matter for him to win them over and besides, did he really owe them any explanations?

They had had dinner and were lounging in the living room. Pastor Mofe’s wife (Mama) and Pastor Onyema’s wife (Remi) joined them after an interval. Mofe cleared his throat to silence the chatter.

“Thank you everyone for honouring my invitation. I know we have been friends for long. PA here is someone we all admire and respect. We have been on his case about marriage particularly as he turns 40 this year. Let me get to the point,” he began.

“PA, we deeply honour the anointing on your life but the bible says in a multitude of counsel there is safety. You introduced a lady to us as someone you want us to pray along with you about settling down with. We all rejoiced with you especially as you told us so many good things about her.”

“What is this now we are hearing about her having a son for a Chinese or Japanese man…I don’t even know which is which?”

There were murmurs across the room. PA cleared his throat and sat up straight.

“Thank you for inviting me to clear things up,” he began. “She had a son for a Korean man when she was about 20 years old. At the time, she had backslidden from the faith. In as much as I would have gone for a woman everyone would be comfortable with, I am constrained by the love of God. He, who has been forgiven much, should not find it difficult to forgive and we all were once sinners.”

“PA, we are talking about a woman who will lead other women in church, mentor the youth, and even attend the meetings of wives of pastors. Do you know what that entails? Leaders will be held to higher standards,” Mama argued, leaning forward earnestly.

“She was not a leader when she had the boy. I think her past more than anything qualifies her to help other people to make good choices. Let’s be real. Do we know how many members of our congregations are living with people they are not married to, committing adultery, aborting their babies? Yet, we make it seem okay. This woman has owned up to her mistake and turned a new leaf. That is true repentance,” PA countered.

“Men do not forgive as God does. Don’t get me wrong, I am not judging her. All I am saying is you deserve better. The church deserves better. We need role models not women who ate their cake and still had it!” Sis. Remi said.

“Ate her cake and had it?” PA wondered.

“Some sisters in church are virgins, primary and secondary. God did not lead you to marry them. It is the one with a son, a chinko for that matter…”

PA interrupted her with a raised hand. “I won’t have that! Please watch your language.”

“Sisters, let’s be civil,” Mofe added.

“It just rubs people the wrong way,” Mama finished for her.

“Thank you,” Remi said.

“I appreciate your concerns. Zina is the woman I deserve. God has given me the go-ahead to be with her and I hope you will accept her,” PA stated calmly.

Pastor Onyema, who had been silent, spoke up. “The thing you don’t know is that this thing has already divided your church. Many of your members have left. There is a lady who introduced herself to me as Becky. She said she left because you are a hypocrite.”

“How am I a hypocrite?” PA asked, surprised.

“She said you suspended her and one Sis. Nkiru for the same sin your girlfriend committed. How do you explain that?”

“They were suspended for nearly coming to blows at a leaders’ meeting.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Of course she left that part out. I did not suspend her for being in a relationsip. In fact, she showed no remorse. She never has and probably never will. The young man involved has moved on but she still tries to win him back.”

“Are you sure he is not the one chasing her?” Pastor Mofe asked.

“They were in a love triangle. The 2nd sister involved is funding Pastor Odion’s new church, just to get at me. But God is my witness. If I had sensed an aiota of repentance in them, they would have been re-instated. What do I gain by alienating people?” His voice was earnest.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room for some minutes before PA’s phone rang and shattered it. He cut the call and put the phone in silent mode. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he bowed his head into both hands.

“We are just looking out for you. A man of God’s first consideration should be the flock. You don’t just marry any fine girl out there. You have to go for a woman who can hold the fort,” Pastor Mofe said.

“We could spend all night talking about this but I have to obey God,” PA said.

“I hope it is actually God you are hearing from. Girls of these days are diabolical…” Mama sneered.

“Haba!” PA looked up, hurt.

“I am sorry but she is right,” Onyema agreed. “Even the bible says the ways of men and women are mysterious.”

“Can we all agree that I am not under any spell? Please, banish that thought!” PA countered. “What you should do is to pray for me and trust that God will not allow me to make the wrong decision. Powerful men and women of God like you should have enough anointing combined to move any mountain.”

Mofe shrugged. “I see your mind is made up.”

PA was silent.

“We will not relent in praying for you.”

The meeting ended shortly after. Each of them knew that a line had been drawn in the sand and their relationships with each other would never be the same after that night. More than ever before, PA was convinced he was doing the right thing.

 

Narrow is the way that leads to salvation and few there be that find it. Lord, you have never led me down the popular path. I trust you. It was you who gave me this ministry. I cannot idolize your church. Should you choose to strip me, I will yet serve you. It was your son, Jesus who died for the world, not I. I cannot disobey you for fear of losing members. Please, give me the strength to stand.

 

Zina was working out along with Imaobong at the mini gym their serviced apartment complex provided for tenants when her phone rang. She answered shortly and then began to pack up her gear to leave.

“Was that PA?” Imaobong asked.

“Yes. He wants us to have breakfast together.”

Ima fiok! That guy is in love sha.” Imaobong chuckled.

“Ain’t I lucky?” Zina smiled.

“He is the lucky one.”

“Sometimes I wonder, though. I hope it is worth all the trouble.”

“What do you mean? If people are so offended that he chose you, let them leave. There are many churches in town.”

“Ima!”

Kpon! This thing has been annoying me. You owe no one an explanation for him choosing you. Imagine the shame and guilt you have carried for years. Let them rage. Baby, favour ain’t fair.”

Zina smiled as she left. Imaobong remained to complete her workout. Zina’s mind flashed back to the revelations PA had made on the day he heard her story.

 

PA (then known simply as Allen), grew up the 2nd son of a pastor and a school teacher for a mother. His older brother, Maxwell, had been the only son for years before he came along. They lost a daughter in infancy and never seemed to get over her death even after Allen was born.

Maxwell was an athletic, out-going, tall and good-looking straight ‘A’s student. He was the pride of their parents. The number of years between he and Allen prevented them from ever really being close but Allen idolized him. He wanted so much to get the kind of attention his brother got effortlessly. Rather, he was awkward, average in academics and in athletics.

To be fair, his parents did not put him down or anything. The favoritism was subtle but teenagers tend to be overly sensitive. Allen grew up under pressure as a pastor’s child. He had to put up a front before those who knew his parents so that their reputation would not be tainted. But that did not mean that he did not have the same temptations other boys his age had.

Maxwell would have been a mentor to him if he had a testimony of overcoming all these challenges but he did not. He was only a genius at covering his tracks. By the time he was in the university, he had two identities. At home, he was the perfect son. In school, he was a heartbreaker who went after the most aloof of girls only to dump them publicly.

He often regaled Allen with tales of his escapades when he came home on holidays.

“That babe that was forming for me because she won Miss Fine Face; I showed her pepper!”

“Hey I trust you!”

“She was the one begging by the time I finished with her.”

“How did you go about it?”

“I followed her about for two weeks, begging, writing poems. There is nothing I didn’t do. She got tired of me and gave in.”

“That was easier than the girl you had to do assignments for.”

“Don’t remind me of that dull girl. I wonder how she made it into the university. I have never met a more empty brain than hers.”

Allen laughed. “Maybe it was her bedroom skills that got her into your school.”

“It must be. Once in a while, I go for her when no catch is imminent.”

“I can’t wait to get into the University, I tell you.”

“You play your cards right, you can catch your fun and still graduate with a 2:1.”

“O boy!”

“You can say that again.”

 

 

Allen’s first girlfriend was Awele. She was in SS1 while he was in SS2. He had just been made the chapel prefect and was carrying out one of the duties assigned to all prefects; making late-comers kneel at the gate and give them portions of grass to cut before classes resumed. She flirted openly with him so much that he had to turn away to hide his blush. The next day, she wrote him a love letter. He ignored it at first but she way-laid him after school and offered him a sampling of her goods.

Subsequently, he began to ensure her exemption from capital punishments. The other prefects soon knew her as his girlfriend and all let her off when others were being punished. All this was carefully hidden from his parents, of course. They would probably have sworn by his virginity if anyone had asked. His mother was diabetic but rarely had need to be hospitalized. She was very busy, either with school work or assisting their father in church or going for medical check-ups.

They lived in a 3 bedroom flat rented by the Anglican Church his father pastored but they were never alone. Relatives, parishioners, friends and all who needed a place to lay their heads constantly flowed through their home. It was a lot of work cooking for all these people and resources were not exactly plentiful but his father believed no one in need should ever be turned away.

By the time he was in SS3, he had had three girlfriends. Maxwell was an able coach in matters of the heart and this resulted in him losing much of his awkwardness. Allen was no stud but, he knew how to choose the right girls using Maxwell’s philosophy.

It stated that “Every girl has a soft spot and all one needed was to be motivated enough to find it.”

Secondly, “Every girl will succumb to a persistent man even if she didn’t like him initially.”

“Girls who other guys avoid are easy prey because they secretly long for the one who will be bold enough to dare.”

These were statements he made so often that Allen had memorized them. He applied them in winning girls over so he could have stories to tell his brother when he came home. Maxwell was in his final year in the university, having initially spent two years doing his A-levels.

That term, Maxwell visited Allen in school for the first time. It wasn’t actually a social call. He had showed up to the house unexpected and everyone was in church for a prayer meeting. He knew that Allen would have a key because he would need to go home and change before going to church if he planned to join them.

“Who is that fine girl?” Maxwell asked as Allen walked him to the school gate.

Allen turned in the direction of the girl who had just walked past.

“I think her name is Omo. She must be in SS1 because I know all the SS2 girls very well,” he replied.

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

“I will have to find out. I don’t really know her.”

“Find out everything about her. This strike the lecturers are on will last more than 6 months. I need a diversion.”

“Done.”

So began the chase. Omo turned out to be a soft-spoken girl, one of the three daughters of a widow and the youngest of them all. She kept to herself most of the time. When she wasn’t studying, she was busy rehearsing with the choir where she was a lead soloist. She had a lovely voice, a beautiful face and fair skin. Her figure was just maturing but it was evident how striking she would be in a few years when she turned 18.

Omo was no match for the combined efforts of Maxwell and Allen. She fell in love with Maxwell. The affair was a big secret. Not even her sisters, with whom she was very close, knew of it. Maxwell convinced her that they would not approve because of their age-difference. He also warned her that her friends and classmates would be jealous of her for landing a guy who was almost a graduate and handsome to boot.

In truth, he knew his parents would raise hell if they caught wind of the relationship. Her mother would probably come for his head and even Allen would be under fire. They were very careful. Allen usually went to her house to call her. He had a friend who lived in their neighborhood so, he lied that he was visiting him while he sneaked to an opening in her fence at a pre-arranged time to tell her where to meet Maxwell.

They left no paper trail. Maxwell bought her gifts and gave her money but he advised her to hide them from her family so they would not become suspicious.

 

One day, Allen was summoned to the principal’s office by a junior student. He did not suspect anything was wrong. It was not unusual for a prefect to be called on by the principal. He was excused by the teacher taking the class before he put away his books and made his way to the principal’s office.

The sight that greeted him nearly made him run back to his class. Omo was huddled on the floor, weeping profusely. The school nurse was seated opposite the principal, glaring at her. The principal, Mr. Garrett, was standing over her, cane in hand. He greeted them after he recovered from the shock and stood as far from her as he could manage.

“Allen, do you know this girl?” Mr. Garrett asked.

“Sir?” he stammered.

“I asked if you know this girl, Omo.”

“I know she is in the choir…she sings in the choir, sir,” he stuttered.

“Is that all you know about her?”

“Sir, I don’t know any other thing about her,” he denied.

“Omo is pregnant,” the man stated.

“What!” Allen gasped, despite himself.

“Yes, she is,” the nurse confirmed.

“I can’t believe it,” Allen muttered.

“She came to my office complaining of a fever. I wonder how come her mother has not noticed it because she is far gone.”

Omo moaned loudly from the floor but was roundly ignored.

“I am not surprised. Mothers of these days are too busy to take care of their children,” the nurse spat.

“That is not the issue. She claims the father of her child is your brother, Maxwell,” Mr. Garrett went on.

“It’s a lie!” Allen shouted.

“You are the one who introduced me to him. You always came to my house to tell me where to meet him,” she accused, in tears.

“She is lying sir! I never did such a thing.”

“Are you saying you are not aware of the relationship between Maxwell and her?” Mr. Garrett asked.

“My brother is not even that kind of person. He cannot have anything to do with a small girl like her!” he protested.

“Why are you lying, Allen, why?” she cried.

“Shut up! You are the one who is lying. Instead of naming the person who got you pregnant, you want to implicate my brother,” he shouted.

“Why would she name you if you had nothing to do with all this?” the nurse asked.

“I don’t know O! I think she is just looking for a scapegoat.”

“Yes, but why you?”

“My brother is not here to defend himself. Maybe that is why she cooked up this story.”

“We are going to get to the bottom of this,” Mr. Garrett said, taking his seat dejectedly. “I have always boasted of the good morals of the students of this school. Even Maxwell is our ex-student. I am very disappointed at you, Omo. I will send for your mother. You too, Allen, your parents and Maxwell have to come in.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Return to your class.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Allen made his escape without another glance at Omo. He knew he was in serious trouble if he could not come up with a plan that would exonerate both he and Maxwell from Omo’s pregnancy. It was his final year and he had his SSCE coming up. Also, he was in danger of being suspended or even expelled if found guilty.

As for Omo, hers is over. How did she even get pregnant? I warned Maxwell that that girl is too naïve but he was blinded by love. See the problem she has brought on us?

*******************************************************************

 

PA had narrated this story while they sat in a somewhat quiet corner of the suya joint, their suya long forgotten. Zina could hear the pain and regret in his voice as he shared secrets that had tormented him for years. There was no sense of pride in his youthful exploits as some men are in the habit of displaying. He had only ever told his mentor, the founder of the school fellowship he pastored in the University and was advised by the man to keep it to himself forever.

“The day we fixed for a meeting with all the concerned parties dawned,” he continued. “Maxwell had been summoned from school. Omo and her mother were present. My parents and I were also there. We were seated in the principal’s office, waiting for the principal who had stepped out to attend to an urgent matter.”

“Her mother began to plead with us to accept the responsibility and spare her daughter the shame of being called a liar but we ignored her. I didn’t think that any of us should go down with her. She was already sure of being suspended. And after having the baby, here was no guarantee that she would be re-admitted. I reasoned that Maxwell and I did not have to let our futures get jeopardized as well. Add to that, my parents’ reputation as pastors. The church could decide to discipline them or transfer them to a remote village in order to prevent the scandal from ruining the name of God. I couldn’t take that chance.”

“I came up with a plan to save the day. Maxwell provided the money for us to pay all the actors. We got a student to act as a lookout. Timing was crucial.”

 

 

When Mr. Garrett came back in he apologized for his tardiness.

“Good morning all. I am sure you know why we are here as I have met with both families individually except for Maxwell. Maxwell, how are you?” he began.

“I am fine sir; just eager to get this behind me,” he replied.

“That’s okay. Pastor Ikpoki, you are welcome.”

Allen’s father replied as warmly as he could, given the circumstances.

“So, Omo, here,” He pointed at her bent figure in one of the chairs “… is pregnant and she says you, Maxwell, are the father of the baby.”

“That’s a lie, sir,” Maxwell said immediately.

“My daughter is not a liar,” her mother defended.

Allen glanced at the woman, still wearing the white two piece, wrapper and blouse some cultures made widows wear for a year after their husband’s death, and felt like laughing. She did not even know what was in store for her.

“Do you deny that you have ever had anything to do with her or just the baby?” Mr. Garrett asked.

“I don’t know her. I have never seen her. We are not in a relationship. I am not the father of her baby.” Maxwell said.

Omo kept her head down, biting her lip.

“What do you have to say, young lady?” Mr. Garrett addressed Omo.

“Why have you decided to pin your pregnancy on my son?” Allen’s mother asked arms akimbo.

“Your son is telling lies,” Omo’s mother spat.

“Did you ever see them together? How did they manage to keep their relationship a secret in this small town? What is the evidence that they were involved?” she retorted.

“I don’t understand it, myself,” Pastor Ikpoki murmured. “Maxwell has always been a good boy. Even if he wanted a girlfriend, why would he leave all the girls in the university for such a young girl?”

“He is a pervert, that’s why. That I am a widow does not mean I am defenseless. My God will judge all those who rise up against me.” Omo’s mother was crying by now, her chest heaving as she spoke.

“God will judge your daughter for wanting to destroy the future of my sons,” Allen’s mother countered. “She is the only one who knows who the true father of her child is.”

The principal was about to interrupt the tirade when a knock sounded at his door. He shouted “Come in” as all heads turned to see who was at the door. It was his secretary, a middle-aged man who had served him from the day he was appointed into the position of principal.

“Sir, one man has been insisting on seeing you. I told him you are in a meeting but he said he is supposed to be here.”

“What do you mean by ‘He is supposed to be here’?” Mr. Garrett asked but before he could get his answer, a man pushed past the principal and burst into the office, to the bewilderment of all who were gathered.

“Good morning, oga,” he greeted.

“Who are you?” Mr. Garrett gaped at the skinny man of about 45, dressed in worn out Ankara print trousers and top. His eyes were blood-shot like he had been drinking and his teeth were stained by tobacco.

My name na Yesterday and that pikin wey that girl carry na my own!” he said.

A collective gasp went up. Omo screamed and fell out of her chair in tears, muttering over and over, “I don’t know who he is. I don’t know who he is.”

Omo’s mother sprang up and pounced on the man. Grabbing him by the trousers, she began to rain abuses on him. It took the intervention of Mr. Garrett, his secretary, Pastor Ikpoki and a teacher who burst in to stop her. She stood in one corner of the room, huffing and puffing while the man continued with his story. Omo was crying loudly while Allen and Maxwell were silent, seemingly shocked by this turn of events.

She be my girlfriend. I be vulcanizer for Emotu road,” Yesterday explained. “My machine spoil so I go Lagos go borrow my brother money make I buy another one. As I come na him I hear say she wan carry my pikin give another man. That one no fit happen na. Money never dey but no be that one mean say she go deny me. I wan marry am.”

Maxwell let out a cry of derision and clapped his hands. “The truth is coming to light.

There was confusion in the office as Allen’s parents expressed their shock at the revelations and joy at their son’s acquittal while Omo continued to deny any knowledge of the man.

“You are a very wicked girl. Do you mean you are still denying everything?”Allen asked.

Maxwell snapped his fingers at her in the typical Nigerian expression of disgust and revulsion.

“How can you prove what you just said?” Mr. Garrett asked.

Prove ke? Na my girlfriend!” Yesterday protested.

“It’s a lie!” Omo cried.

Baby, no fear. No follow money leave me.”

Omo’s mother lunged at him but was restrained by the teacher. “You are very foolish for saying that. Is she your age mate? You should be ashamed.”

“Sir, I swear, I have never seen this man in my life. Mummy, believe me,” Omo cried.

“Me?” Yesterday seemed to have lost his temper. “You no get mark for breast, the left side, where hot water bin pour you when you dey small?”

Mr. Garrett looked askance at Omo’s mother. She stared at her daughter whose wailing had escalated, in disbelief.

“Omo?” she asked.

Allen’s mother rose and picked up her bag. “Pastor, let’s go. God has put my enemies to shame. Look at this loose girl and her mother, trying to pin a drunkard’s baby on my son.”

“Omo, what is this you have done to me?” her mother shouted, dropping to the floor in tears. “You know your father just died. Look at the shame you have brought on me.”

Pastor ikpoki had risen to his feet as well. “I think the matter is settled, Mr. Garrett. Please, counsel this girl to accept her lot and not to utter one more word against my sons or I will deal decisively with her mother and her.”

“I am sorry for the inconvenience, sir,” Mr. Garrett apologized.

“Kindly excuse my children and I.”

“Of course. My apologies again.”

“I have heard.”

The Ikpoki family made their way out of the principal’s office leaving behind a nonplussed Yesterday, a bewildered teacher, an angry mother, a confused Mr. Garrett and a weeping Omo. Outside, Mrs. Ikpoki hugged her sons in relief.

“The devil is a liar. See how God sent angels to bring this matter to an end without any further lies from that girl. My God is alive. He is faithful. He knows our hands are clean,” she rejoiced.

“This has to be God,” Pastor Ikpoki concurred.

Both boys made suitable sounds of agreement.

“You have to be careful, Maxwell,” his father warned. “If you see any girl you like, bring her home and we will go with you to see her parents. Don’t allow anyone to jeopardize your future.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

“As for you, Allen; face your books. What I need from you is 10 As like Maxwell had. You have been a prayerful child. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I will do my best, Dad,” Allen replied.

 

Zina was dumbfounded by the story PA had narrated. Her mouth actually hung open throughout his narration. She had never, in her life, imagined that a man as adored as PA for his pristine reputation could have such a secret hidden away.

“Who was the man, Yesterday?” she asked.

“He was a man we paid to get us off the hook and he executed it perfectly. In fact, he went a number of times to their house to disturb Omo and demand that they allow him to marry her.”

“Her mother must have been devastated.”

“She was but she could not bear the thought of her daughter marrying a man with no home, no income and no credibility. Besides, we heard Omo kept denying the man.”

“Of course she would!” Zina exclaimed.

“She was suspended from school and I heard she had a daughter prematurely.”

“Poor girl!”

PA sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “The whole town took our side. Her family had to relocate because the stigma became too much. People were calling them names, abusing her mother in the market, insulting her sisters. Of course, our church members were at the forefront. For all they knew, her family connived, unsuccessfully, to set up their pastor’s son. How I wish they knew!”

“Hei! PA! How did you not feel guilty?”

“I felt proud of myself. I had finally earned my brother’s respect, having saved us both from a nasty situation. He was forever in my debt. I had proven that he wasn’t that special, even though my parents still favored him, and I was now admitted into the ‘big boys’ gang.”

Zina wrung her hands in confusion. She was still trying to reconcile everything she had heard. People did not just admit their failures. It was a first for her and she did not know how to take it.

“I never heard anything about her till about two years later when I came to Lagos to visit an uncle. Maxwell had been in a motorcycle accident that left him in a bad fracture. He was bed-ridden. Eventually he died from an infection that set in from the wound.”

“That’s a pity.”

“My parents were heart-broken. He was their super star. My mother’s diabetes took a turn for worse. I had to postpone school to be there for them.”

Zina clucked her tongue in sympathy.

“I met a girl in my uncle’s house. She was his sales girl. He had a shop where he sold fabric. To my shock, she reacted like she saw a ghost when I told her my name. She started abusing me, calling me a liar and a murderer.”

“Wow!”

“Eventually, I found out that she was Omo’s sister. Omo nearly died in childbirth. She had post-partum depression, would not even look at the baby, was calling Maxwell’s name all the time.”

“That is terrible!”

“They eventually gave the baby away. I never found out who took the baby. They figured that she would snap out of it once she did not have to care for her but it never happened.”

“Have you tried to meet with the family and apologize?”

“After I got born again, I went to make restitution. I even offered to write a notice in the papers but they would have nothing to do with me. They refused to forgive me or allow me to see Omo. I hear she is a shadow of herself, living like a recluse, mumbling unintelligibly.”

PA’s voice broke as he burst into tears, not minding who could see him. “This is the torture of my life. I am responsible for that girl’s pain. I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

Zina held his hand while he wept. She began to remember the years she had spent struggling with guilt and shame and burst into tears as well. He was a kindred soul. Only one, who had carried the kind of load each of them had carried while trying to serve God, could understand what forgiveness meant.

Finally, they rose and made their way to his car. They sat in silence for a long time. PA had been forced to relive his nightmare, the cause of many sleepless nights, the subject of many prayers of repentance and many pleas for mercy.

“How do you go on? How do you get up and climb the stage and preach with such a burden?” Zina asked.

“At first, I was trying to make it up to God. Since her family has refused to allow me apologize to her, I felt that I could atone for my sins by serving God. Every day, I confessed my sins. Every day, I re-dedicated my life to Christ. I went for deliverance so many times that they knew my name.”

“I did the same,” Zina said.

“One day, I went back to Omo’s sister to beg her to give me access to Omo. She cursed me that I would never have a home of my own.”

“What?” Zina cried. “My God!”

“I decided to remain a bachelor for the rest of my life. That way, I would not rope another woman into my curse. Secondly, the curse could not come to pass if I did not propose to any woman,” he said.

“This is unbelievable. You told everyone you had the gift of singleness while you were afraid of a curse?”

“I did have the gift because it was not a struggle being single. I rarely battled lustful thoughts or felt lonely. My solitude gave me more time to serve God.”

“What changed?”

PA heaved a sigh. “Zina, I had a divine encounter.”

“Oh!”

“No, I really did. One day, I was lying in bed, writing in my journal when I felt as if Jesus walked into my room. He said to me “Why are you crucifying me over and over again?” I was paralyzed. I began to weep. I apologized and asked him to show me how I offended him.”

Zina’s eyes were wide open with shock.

“He said, I was paying for a sin he had already paid for.”

Zina felt tears roll down her cheeks as he grasped her hand in earnest.

“As long as I refused to marry, I was invalidating his death and resurrection and proclaiming a curse which had no effect on my life. Now, I am free of the guilt. I no longer feel I have to do anything to earn God’s forgiveness. Should Omo’s family demand a public apology, I will do it but that is not what will determine how God feels about me.”

“Know this. There is no small sin. All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Repentance means turning away but if we deny ourselves God’s blessings, we are not doing him any favors.”

“PA pray for me. I want to feel forgiven. I want the shame to lift.”

“Let’s pray for each other, my love.”

 

The End

 

 

 

Thank you everyone for reading to the end and for all your kind comments.

I hope you enjoyed the ride.

I will be on a hiatus. kindly subscribe so you will be alerted of new posts.

You can send me an email on drnsmusings@yahoo.com

Follow me on twitter @nenabekee

And do watch out for my children’s book…”Adaeze the true princess”. Details soon.

God bless you

Remember to walk in love and live worthy of the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross.

Cheers, Dr.N

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Woman I Deserve 24

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Happy young businessman using digital tablet --- Image by © Sonja Pacho/Corbis
Happy young businessman using digital tablet — Image by © Sonja Pacho/Corbis

 

Zina had mustered the courage to call PA after Imaobong encouraged her to do so. She had even told her about Esosa. Imaobong was of the opinion that she should not encourage him until she was absolutely certain that PA had backed out. This would prevent any doubts as to her morality. Her premise was that whatever had happened was in the past and she was now a new creature with no baggage, seeing that Zina had been celibate from the time she had Peter. It wouldn’t do for anyone to accuse her of stringing a 2nd man along while dating PA. That would leave her credibility in shreds.

When he didn’t answer after she had called twice, she left him a message.

Call me when you get this. We need to talk. Love, Zee.

 

She didn’t hear from him the next day. In a panic she called Imaobong.

“Do you think someone has told him? He isn’t answering my calls or responding to my messages.”

Imaobong sighed. “I hope not. I wanted him to hear it from you.”

“What will I do if I lose him? I have never opened up to anyone like this. What will I do? Imaobong I don’t know if I can take it.”

She was distraught. Imaobong wished she was in her office to comfort her.

“Come home early. Let’s watch sad movies and cry.”

“I don’t want sad movies. I want my PA!” she cried.

“It’s okay. Let’s pray about it. God who sees your heart will make a way. Don’t cry.”

 

Chapter 10

 

At 7 p.m Zina got a text from PA.

Meet me outside your office.

He knew her schedule despite how short a time they had been dating. She made a call to dismiss her driver. Nervously, she touched up her hair and makeup in her bathroom before proceeding to sling her bag over her arm. On impulse, she knelt by her desk.

Father, I know I don’t deserve a good man like PA but he has led me to hope. Please don’t let him dash my dreams. I will be good to him. I will quit my job. I will be submissive. I will do whatever it takes. Just give me a chance, I beg you.

 

PA was leaning on the bonnet of his SUV, his feet crossed at the ankles, his arms folded across his chest. She took in his jeans and plaid shirt as she approached. He didn’t look angry; in fact, he looked serene. When he noticed her, he stretched out a hand and drew her into an embrace when she was close enough.

“Hi, PA,” she managed, surprised.

“Hi, Zee baby.”

She blushed.

“I thought something was wrong when I didn’t hear from you for so long,” she probed.

“We’ll talk about it later.”He released her and unlocked his car door. “How does suya sound? I know a great spot.”

“Okay.”

She got into his car. He also got in and drove off without further comment. She was silent, battling with thoughts of how to broach the topic. He was not given to conversation while driving so she could not tell if he was just letting her down gently or if he really had no idea what she was about to say.

At the suya joint, he parked the car and turned to her.

“When were you planning to tell me you have a son?”

Zina could feel her world crashing around her. Her heart pulsated loudly in her chest. Fleetingly, she wondered if he could hear it.

Who had told him? How had he found out? Did he know everything?

“I am sorry I kept it away from you.”

She stole a glance at him. He was watching her, expressionless.

Is this it? Father, is this the end?

“What else are you hiding?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she protested, raising her hands in a defensive gesture.

“I want to hear everything. No summaries, Zina. Tell me everything.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, still facing her, his gaze piercing. She averted her gaze, barely able to meet his. As she began to narrate her story, she kept her eyes on the floor. She did not want to look at him for fear of what she would see. If she was going to lose him, she wanted to remember him for his adoring gaze not derision.

 

Zina had grown up in Bori, a small town in Rivers state. The daughter of Lebari who was a cleaner in the local government headquarters, she never knew her father. She had 4 siblings; only 1, Ledum, shared a father with her. They went through public school, coasting on the subsidized fees and occasional handouts from relatives.

At 16, she attended a crusade in town and answered the altar call. She began to read her bible and attend a small fellowship close to home where other believers like her congregated. Gaining admission into the University of Port Harcourt was her dream. She wanted to study to become an engineer. Her mother was selling pastries on the side to augment her income and it was the responsibility of all the children (except Boma the oldest) to hawk them around the local government secretariat.

Boma was training to become a mechanic. He had been pampered by their mom. Rather than take up the responsibility of assisting the home, he often stole the proceeds of their petty trade. There was nothing the others could do. He hung out with worthless fellows and Zina had once seen a gun among his possessions.

One day, Lebari came home and announced that she had secured a job for Zina as a cook for an expatriate who worked for a construction company that was executing a contract in the town. His former cook was quitting to get married but was willing to train Zina for two weeks before leaving town. Lebari had overheard a conversation between the cook and another staff of the secretariat where she worked and boldly offered her daughter as a candidate.

Zina did not like the idea of working as a cook. She wanted to be an engineer. However, she was almost 20, yet to secure admission into the university and tired of hawking snacks. Left with no choice, she began her training as a cook. Lee was an easy boss to please. He was a young man, probably in his late thirties, whose wife and children had stayed back in Korea. Twice a year, he traveled to spend time with them.

For 3 months, Zina went to his house at 6 a.m. every morning, including Sundays to prepare his breakfast. He had lunch on site. She made dinner and left it in the microwave oven. On Sundays, she went to his house after church service to prepare his lunch and dinner. He often had female guests over but never made any advances towards Zina. In fact, he barely spoke to her. She did not mind this as she had pre-determined that the day he cast a lecherous glance at her would be her last in his house.

She had broken up with her 1st boyfriend after the crusade that changed her life. He was the driver to a wealthy man in town and he used to give her money to supplement her family’s meager earnings. It was difficult giving up the relationship but she was determined to make heaven. And the coordinator of the fellowship kept emphasizing that all fornicators and adulterers would end up in the hottest part of hell.

One day, she went to visit her mother at work. A staff of the secretariat stopped her to ask her if she was in school.

“No, ma,” she replied. “I have been trying to get admission into Uniport for a long time.”

“Why have you not tried to get admission into Bori Polytechnic?”

Zina shrugged. “I want to get away from Bori. I have lived here all my life.”

“How many times have you taken the exam?”

“Two times.”

“I am on my way to buy a form for my niece. Write down your full name, I will buy two forms.”

“Thank you ma but I don’t want…”

“Do you want to remain a cook for the rest of your life?”

“No, ma.”

“Write your name on that piece of paper.”

Reluctantly, she complied. She put the incident out of her mind the moment she left. In fact she did not mention it to her mother. The next day, her mother presented her with the form.

“I don’t want to go to a polytechnic,” she whined, cross.

You don dey house since. That work wey you dey work, how many years you wan do am? The man go soon comot Naija O! As you no gree get better boyfriend wey go help us, kuku go school na,” her mother scolded.

After days of cajoling, threats and sheer nagging, Zina filled the form and began to prepare for the examination. She had enough time on her hands because her work as a cook meant she was exempt from hawking for her mother. Also, one of the brothers in the fellowship was an undergraduate in the polytechnic. He began to coach her and a few other members who were preparing for the examination.

She passed the exam and gained admission to study Computer Science. Her job was not threatened as she was able to combine work and lectures. Besides, she needed the money to pay her fees. Her initial reluctance gave way to pride and joy that if she earned her diploma, she could leave Bori and forge a life for herself. She did not have trendy clothes or wear as much makeup as other girls for two reasons. She wanted to avoid as much attention as possible and she needed to save up.

By the end of her 1st semester, she realized that she was in danger of dropping out of school. She was yet to pay her fees and books were expensive. In addition, she was expected to contribute to her family’s upkeep. She was despairing.

One day, she saw her ex-boyfriend in her school. He had come to pick girls up to attend a party his boss was throwing.

“Zina, how far?” he greeted.

She shook hands with him as he leaned on his boss’ car, smoking a cigarette. It was almost 4p.m. and she was done for the day.

“Nwiba, it’s been a long time.”

“You broke my heart now,” he joked.

“Which heart? Do you have a heart?”

She laughed as she clutched her bag to her chest. It was a self-conscious habit she didn’t even know she had developed. Her modest dressing and minimal makeup did not prevent the attention of male folk. They seemed determined to lay the ‘holy sister’ who would not participate in social activities or hang out with them. She had formed the habit of clutching her bag to her chest as though it would keep the lustful gazes away.

Nwiba threw his stub on the ground and stepped on it to extinguish it.

You no go come party?”

“Party?”

“Yes, my boss gives a lot of money to the girls that attend. How you dey manage sef? I hear say school cost.”

E no easy. I never pay school fees sef,” she complained.

That oyibo wey you dey cook for, you no wan love am?”

“Love who?” Zina nearly fell over in shock. “Mr. Lee?”

That man na better man O. My oga like am. If you born for am you no go suffer again.”

Nda Bari! What kind of talk is that? You don take igbo so?” She made gesture on her head like when one is unscrewing a nut.

No open eye. Another girl go soon born for am. My oga say the guy dey very careful because him no want get pikin for naija but you wey dey inside go sabi how you go take get am.”

“I don repent Nwiba,” she spat.

But you no be virgin!” he scoffed. “Anyway, I don dey go. Take this money buy something for yourself.”

She accepted the money he offered her without a second thought. Her younger brother, Ledum had been thrown out of school already and she was waiting on her salary to get him back in. Lebari, her mother, had gone to ask for an extension but was asked to pay at least half of the money. They could not afford even that.

She counted the money once she was out of his sight. It was just enough. She raised a hand to heaven and muttered hallelujah. This had to be a miracle. Of course she had been tempted several times to call him and beg for financial assistance but she knew she would end up in his bed so she refrained. She did not want anything to do with hell fire. As for his advice about Mr. Lee, she chucked it into the bin.

In PA’s car, Zina took a deep breath. He had made no comment while she spoke. Her phone had rung once but she turned it off without answering it.

“Do you want us to get something to eat?” she asked.

“I am not very hungry,” he replied.

She sighed. In truth, she was just postponing the inevitable. She had never really told anyone the full story; not even her best friend who died before she moved to Lagos. The shame and guilt had trailed her all her life, even after she moved to Port Harcourt and moved up in life.

“It was time for my 2nd semester exams. They threatened that anyone who did not pay their fees in full would be locked out of the hall,” she went on.

“My mother borrowed the money from her church association. She warned me that it was the last time they would give her money as she was already neck-deep in debt. They only pitied her because they knew I was working and schooling. I had tried to get a loan from my fellowship but they were few and had not really thought of having a purse for such requests.”

“I did well in my exams and began to save again for the next semester but Ledum fell ill and the money went for his treatment. I was bitter at God because I had prayed that he would heal Ledum so that I could save for school. That was when I remembered Nwiba’s advice. I hatched a plan to get pregnant for Lee. He always kept his condoms beside his bed and he never ran out of stock. I calculated my ovulation period and chose a date to seduce him.”

“On the first day, I hid all his condoms and waited for him to eat dinner. While he ate, I undressed and got into his bed. He must have assumed I had left because a short while later, he got into his bed, not even noticing I was there. When I tapped him, he was surprised to see me but he did not hesitate to accept what was offered. He later admitted he had been attracted to me but that he felt I would turn him down since I was so religious.”

“We continued our affair for months till I found out I was pregnant. He was angry; accusing me of planning it all along but I denied all wrongdoing. Then he gave me money to abort the pregnancy. I used the money for my needs and lied that I had gotten rid of the baby. You see, I needed a baby to get money regularly from him. He was quite frugal and rarely gave me more than a stipend even after we became lovers.”

“If he suspected anything, he couldn’t prove it. By the time I had a bulge, I claimed that the abortion had failed. He cried bitterly, sad that he had violated his rule. Many of his friends and colleagues had children all over the villages surrounding Bori but he had prided himself on escaping the clutches of the desperate women folk.”

Zina folded her arms across her chest and sighed.

“Peter was born in December. Lee was out of the country and barely speaking to me by then. My mother did not support my decision to have Peter but she understood. She assisted me so I could return to school as soon as possible. Lee returned and placed me on a monthly allowance to take care of Peter. I continued to work as his cook but we did not continue the affair. My son had bought me the money I needed for school and my salary ensured that I had a little extra.”

“I cannot begin to tell you the emotional trauma that I passed through. My reputation changed overnight from ‘holy sister’ to ‘baby mama’. A number of girls had children for foreigners living and working in Nigeria but none of them was ambitious enough to enroll in school. They mostly lived near the docks, serving as entertainment to the sailors in Onwe and environs. I stuck out like a sore thumb. Boys assumed I was an easy lay and made coarse remarks when I walked past.”

“I bore it till I graduated. Lee helped me get a job in Port Harcourt. I moved there and left Peter with my mother. Soon, I got over all the bitterness and renewed my relationship with my savior. However, it was all good till any potential suitor heard about my son. Maybe if he was dark-skinned, it would not be so bad but he looks so much like Lee. He has curly dark hair, his eyes are Mongolian like his dad and his skin is almost white. I moved my family to PH when I began to earn good money but I lived on my own to create room for relationships. That did not stop my past from trailing me like a serial murderer.”

She gulped, swallowing a sob. It would not do to cry because it could be misread as manipulation.

“Lee plays no role in the boy’s life?” PA asked.

“That was his condition for supporting us. He didn’t want his wife to ever find out he had a son in Nigeria. Peter is never to try to contact him or his family. He left Nigeria 5 years ago.”

PA heaved a sigh.

“I am so sorry I didn’t tell you. Please, forgive me. I was not trying to deceive you. I just believed it would never get to that point. At least if you were dumping me, it would be because you were no longer interested and not for his sake. I am tired of being abused, tired of blaming myself, tired of confessing my sins. I just need a breather!”

She didn’t even realize she had cried out.

“I was ready and open to a woman who has a past but I’m not sure I ever considered a single mom. It’s just not one of those things you plan for, you know,” he said, rubbing his head.

Zina nodded, holding her breath.

“What do you believe? With the benefit of hindsight, do you believe that was actually the only way to get the money for your fees?” he asked.

Zina bit her lip. “No, I took the easy way out. I could have deferred my admission, or got a second job coaching children or whatever. All this would not have happened. I love my son but God’s way is always the best,” she replied.

“The fact that he is mixed race makes it more complicated,” PA said. “There is no way I can keep it out of the public sphere; not with my kind of job. I have learned that it is better to keep all skeletons out of the cupboard than to attempt to keep people from opening the cupboard. People are nosy and church folk expect so much of leaders. It’s okay if they sin but those on the pulpit must never miss the mark.”

PA turned and cupped her chin in order to raise her face to meet his gaze.

“You made a mistake and none of us is perfect but people are vicious and unforgiving. That is my worry. Can you take the heat? Will my members take up arms? Will it divide the church? Will they accept you as my wife?”

Zina swallowed a sob. “I don’t want you to pass through that kind of persecution for my sake.”

“Let’s go in and buy suya. I have a story to share.”

PA released her, turned off the engine and opened the door for her. She alighted, wrapping her arms around her to keep the chilly air out while she waited for him to lock the car. He took her hand as they made for the suya stand, oblivious of the crowd of people milling about, the music blaring from the speakers or the smoke from the grills that littered the joint. Zina’s thoughts were on PA. She was anxious to know his decision. PA’s thoughts were on his past: A story he had shared with only one other person all his life. One that had haunted him for years; the reason he had remained a bachelor for years.

 

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The Woman I Deserve 23

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Happy young businessman using digital tablet --- Image by © Sonja Pacho/Corbis
Happy young businessman using digital tablet — Image by © Sonja Pacho/Corbis

 

Chapter 9

Zina was in her room, reminiscing over her date with PA. Once again her courage had failed her. She could not bear the thought of his derision. He seemed to hold her in such high esteem; writing poetry, buying her gifts, calling often. This one had to be the real deal. Her 2 exes had not bothered with all that. Ike had fleeced her of as much cash as he could before he took off. Reason: “My mother will not accept a single mom.” Of course he failed to mention that while the relationship lasted.

Lekan had told her from the time he met her son, Peter, that she would have to keep him away from their home if they ever got married. She hung on, believing he would come around. Already, Peter lived with her mother and never constituted a nuisance in any way but that was not enough. The relationship ended in 3 months.

Obas was the most vitriolic. He mocked her for refusing him sex. “You be virgin?” he would ask and laugh derisively. “That your chinko pikin, how you take born am? Virgin Mary!”

She would storm out in anger but he always apologized and pleaded till she took him back. Her mother detested him but even she encouraged her not to walk away.

E get money. Husband no dey. Manage the one wey you see,” her mom would say.

She dreaded marriage to him. He was verbally abusive, quick-tempered, uncouth and brash. How such a good-looking man could have a character that contrasted so much with his looks beat her imagination.

If you bin give am wetin him dey find, he for no run leave you,” her mom opined when he dumped her.

She was relieved. Being single had to be better than living in terror forever. However, she put up a sad appearance and let people console her over the public embarrassment. Secretly, she thanked God for delivering her.

Picking her phone, she composed an email to PA, telling him of her son and enclosing a photo. She saved it under drafts and heaved a sigh of relief. All she needed now was the courage to hit the send button. Let the chips fall where they may.

Besides, God may have sent Esosa to give me the assurance that I will not end up alone. He has not relented despite my lack-lustre responses. What I am sure of is that he is less likely to judge me for being a single mom and Peter will gain 2 sisters. What’s not to like?

PA on the other hand is a young pastor who could have any girl at a snap of his fingers. As selfish as I am, I know he is in love with the image of me that I have allowed him to see: A successful girl with no encumbrances who loves God as much as he does. When the veil is lifted and he sees me for who I really am, he will cast me off. It may be too late then to go for Esosa. He might have met someone else or something. What is the wise thing to do?

 

 

PA was on his way to his car after a pastors’ conference. His junior pastors, Odion and Kunle had hitched a ride with him so they were all making their way out when Pastor Onyema hailed them.

“PA, what’s the hurry?” he shouted.

They stopped and waited for him to catch up with them. After exchanging hearty greetings, PA explained that they had to leave so quickly because Pastor Kunle was trying to catch up with an event at his son’s school.

“Let my driver drop him off. Come back in so we can catch up,” he offered.

Odion and PA shrugged and turned back. Kunle started looking for Onyema’s driver so as to take advantage of his offer.

Back in the conference room, all the participants were huddled in groups of 3 and more, discussing loudly over snacks and drinks. Pastor Onyema ushered them to seats and waved over his assistant pastors, Kele and Ade. A server placed refreshments before them. Soon, Pastor Mofe joined them.

Inevitably, PA became the topic of friendly teasing as all the others were married.

“PA, what happened between you and Toyosi?” Onyema asked.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“You mean you didn’t like her?” he pressed.

PA shook his head.

“Why?” Pastor Mofe asked.

PA shrugged but refrained from explaining.

“I can’t force you to marry the girl but you didn’t handle it well,” Pastor Onyema opined.

His audience waited for him to go on while he took a long drink from his glass of juice.

“You should have told me you were not interested in the girl so I could soften the blow. If for no other reason, because I introduced her to you,” he concluded.

PA was quiet.

“Did she complain to you?” Pastor Mofe asked.

“Nna…she said my wife and I set her up for heartbreak when we knew very well PA is a heartbreaker!” Pastor Onyema replied.

The pastors in the gathering all reacted in shock; some gulping their drinks hurriedly and others averting their gazes from PA.

“When did PA become a heartbreaker?” Pastor Mofe asked.

PA made a face but kept his thoughts to himself.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Pastor Onyema asked him.

“We have known each other for too long for you to be calling me out. Why didn’t you call me to discuss this on phone or even come to my office?” PA asked. He leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “Did you even vet that girl before recommending her? Or you pitied her because she is your editor?”

“What do you mean?” Pastor Onyema asked.

“I asked you if you had any recommendations. Rather than discuss with me first, you got to the girl and filled her head with hope. Then you totally ambushed me. PO, don’t let me get started. Heartbreaker indeed!”

None of them had ever seen PA lose his temper. Pastor Onyema immediately apologized.

“I didn’t mean to call you out.”

“PA, don’t be offended. He was only looking out for a friend,” Mofe pleaded.

The junior pastors exchanged uncomfortable looks among themselves. They could neither contribute to the conversation nor get up to leave simply because, they were sure that they would end up taking the heat. Something about the grass and elephants fighting came to mind.

“I never asked her out. She should know better than to insinuate otherwise. In fact, we were never alone,” PA continued testily.

“It’s okay. I believe you. I will warn her to cease and desist,” Pastor Onyema said.

“She had better. My babe won’t even take it lying low,” PA said, straight-faced.

I si gini? Your babe?” Pastor Onyema exclaimed.

“I was going to tell you about her before you started throwing wild accusations.”

“PA, why have you not told us before now? Who is she by the way,” Pastor Mofe asked.

“Her name is Zina. She joined our church this year.”

Kai! You like fresh fish sha! So all those sisters who have been serving in church for years skipped your notice?” Pastor Odion teased.

“The Lord they have been serving will reward them,” he replied.

The men burst into laughter.

“Congrats sir,” one of Pastor Onyema’s associates said.

The rest joined in hailing PA, coming over to shake his hand one at a time. He accepted their praise just as amiably as he had accepted their ribbing in the past.

“Why did I not hear of this girl before now?” Pastor Odion whispered to PA.

He only shrugged in reply. Odion punched his shoulder playfully, determined to press for more details at a later date.

“So tell us more,” Pastor Mofe requested.

“Her name is Zina. We have been friends for more than 2 months now. She is the MD of an IT firm. We met when she came to install some software for Ovie.”

“It sounds like she has a good head on her shoulders,” Pastor Odion said, nodding.

“She does and I appreciate all your prayers, guys. This is a step I am taking with serious consideration, knowing the possible backlash if something goes wrong,” he said.

“True. You can’t afford to make any mistake after waiting all these years. Can you imagine the number of women who would wish to be in her shoes?” Pastor Onyema concurred.

“There is a man for every woman. I don’t know why anyone would fixate on me,” he said brushing off the compliment.

“Ha! You are too modest, PA,” Pastor Mofe scoffed.

“Do you know how many emails Ovie has intercepted on your behalf? You need to read some of them. He once showed me an email of a girl who saw a vision of you and her getting married,” Pastor Odion said.

“Back to sender!” one of the junior pastors spat.

PA made no comment.

“PO, do you know that PA has had to put serious security checks on his phone number?” Pastor Odion elaborated.

“Just marry the girl quickly so they can leave you alone,” another said.

“It’s not that straightforward. You have to make sure she has no baggage. She cannot be someone you ‘settled’ for. Investigate thoroughly and make sure there are no skeletons in her cupboard. This is the kind of issue that destroyed Pastor Umoh’s church,” Pastor Mofe warned.

“Pastor Umoh?” PA asked.

“Pastor Umoh of Christian Assembly Uyo.”

“Oh! I never really understood what happened,” PA said.

“Two years after his wedding, he found out that the girl was separated from her 1st husband, not even divorced. Meanwhile he had no idea she was in a relationship at the time. He had dated 2 girls in church before he met the one he married and she totally swept him off his feet. The rumor mongers spread the false story that he was the one who broke her 1st marriage. He is yet to recover from the scandal,” Pastor Mofe elaborated.

Tufia kwa!” Pastor Onyema spat.

“May God not allow us to plant for another man to come and reap,” one of the junior pastors said.

“Amen!” they chorused.

PA was silent, deep in thought. The topic changed to something else but he could not get the nagging doubts out of his mind. He had noticed Zina’s occasional moodiness and even reticence but when he asked her, she denied that anything was wrong. They had known each other long enough for her to tell him what was her initial reason for hesitating about going on a date with him. He had refrained from plaguing her with questions because he hoped she would see that he loved her too much to condemn her for whatever mistakes she had made in the past. Now, he began to wonder if he had dived into the deep end of the pool too soon.

 

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Imaobong and Zina were on their way home after attending the bridal shower of a mutual friend, Dana. She was a big customer of Imaobong’s and had gradually become a friend. They had left the twins with their Nanny and their dad who was home after being away for quite a while.

“Yours is next Zina. I already have so many ideas buzzing in my head.” Imaobong was bubbling with excitement.

Zina made no comment.

“PA will not waste time in proposing. I trust him. He knows that you are a great catch.”

Imaobong heard a sniff and turned to look at her friend. She noticed she was crying.

“What is it? Are you ill?” she asked, worried.

Zina burst into tears.

“Ah ah! What is wrong?” she asked again.

Imaobong managed to pull into the parking lot of a shop close to their home and parked. She turned in her seat so she could wrap her friend in a hug.

“Tell me what is going on. Did PA say something bad? Are you pregnant? Did someone die?”

Zina shook her head in response to each question.

Imaobong rubbed her back till she stopped crying. Zina raised her head and blew her nose noisily into her handkerchief.

“I have a 12 year old son,” she announced.

Abasi mbok!” Imaobong exclaimed. “How?”

Zina was silent, rubbing her nose. Imaobong released her and sat back, arms folded over her breasts.

“I’m guessing PA does not know?”

Zina shook her head.

“Who is the boy’s father? Are you married to him?”

“No. His name is Lee. He is Korean.”

“Eh!” Imaobong could not help herself.

“I have not heard from him since he left Nigeria 5 years ago.”

Imaobong clucked her tongue sympathetically. “This is not good. You should have told me earlier.”

“I was afraid. So many men have walked away because of him.”

“You can’t blame them. He is not even black, to hope to integrate him into a new family. A step dad would have to be comfortable with having a child who looks nothing like he and his ancestors,” Imaobong said.

Zina heaved a sigh.

“But it is not the end of the world. Call PA now and tell him. He can’t hear it from anyone else.”

“What will he say?”

“The worst is that he will walk away. I hope he won’t but at least, the burden of not knowing will be off your shoulders.”

“I love him.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“I can’t guarantee that but I can promise to be there for you.”

She reached over and enveloped her friend in a bear hug. Both their tears flowed freely. They were oblivious of the fact that they were in a public place. What mattered was the healing and bonding that unconditional friendship offered. And they were eager to take advantage of it.

 

*******************************************************************

Ama was in PA’s house to deliver some gifts that had been dropped off for him in church. She could have let his driver pick them up since he left early with Ovie for his band rehearsal but she was on a mission. It was not her 1st time in his house but her visits were rare. He liked his privacy and they spent so much time together during the day that she scarcely needed to see him afterwards.

Ovie welcomed her and summoned Saviour to collect the items.

“Is PA asleep?” she asked.

“No. Do you want to see him?”

They were standing in the foyer of the house.

“Yes. Please tell him to give me a few minutes.”

“Come in then.”

She followed him to the living room and took a seat on one of the sofas, dropping her bag beside her. Ovie turned on the air conditioning and the television before dropping the remote controls on the table before her.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Let me call him.”

She watched him leave. Her stomach felt queasy at the revelations Toyosi had called her to make. To quell her doubts, she had even provided pictures as evidence of the veracity of her claims. Ama wondered how she got the pictures but she wasn’t saying. Toyosi claimed she was no longer interested in PA and anyone could have him but that she wanted him to see who he had rejected her for. That was enough revenge for her.

PA greeted Ama as he entered the room. She rose and hugged him.

“What’s up?” he asked, sinking into the sofa opposite her.

She took in his youthful appearance in joggers and a T-shirt and regretted that she was about to shatter an illusion that had made him so happy. Even she could not dismiss the spring in his step and the extra attention he paid to his looks these days. He had to be in love. But the church came first and Zina did not meet the criteria for a pastor’s wife. Well, maybe some unserious pastor with 30 members but certainly not a renowned pastor, not her PA.

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Thanks for hanging on till the end muses. I have been blessed by your kind comments. The conclusion comes up in a week. After that I will go on a break to recoup. Feel free to browse old posts if you are bored or send in something for me to post. Reach me at drnsmusings@yahoo.com

Cheers, Dr. N.