Who is Mrs Springlet?

Mrs springlet is a unique creation, gifted only to people with distinctive  characteristics and Beautiful features . She is someone most bearers would joyfully spend hours grooming and naturing.

Mrs springlet is the one castigated by those who where not lucky enough to be gifted by her grace. She is the one considered as black and pale, tacky and unkept. Unprofessional and dull.

Mrs springlet played a major role in the 60s  to make an important revolutionary statement. To start an unending movement. She symbolized the move towards  integration in the political system, yearning for power and nationalism.

Mrs spriglet is an important part of the  spiritual, intimate and physical acceptance of our different individual features.

Mrs springlet has been used to judge people, often Questioning their social norms and sense of belonging  in the society.

Mrs springlet was one of the contrivances used to attain the successes of the civil right movement, the black power and  pride movements of the 60s and 70s. She is the voice…  the voice of a million and one.

Mrs springlet is an outstanding factor of black pride. Mrs springlet is share beauty. Mrs springlet brought about the catch phrase “black is beautiful”

Irrespective of  power and recognition Mrs springlet is still perceived to be an outcast, a flag of civil rebelion . she  strives to be accepted and embraced by the world.

Mrs springlet is a type 4a,4b, and 4c. Kinky wiry (I) and kinky wiry (ii). She is black 1, black 2, black 4, brown, caramel or gold.

Chaka khan, Diana Ross, India Arie, Solange Knowles, Lenny kravitz, Chimanda  Adichie, Tracee Ellis Ross, Mae jemison, Durlan Cunha,Nneka, Donald Glover… They are all lovers of Mrs springlet. Proud beautiful lovers.

Mrs Springlet is my Afro textured hair, my nappy hair, my “napptural” hair, my wooly hair, my kinky hair, my revolutionary hair. Call it whatever puts a smile on your face.

Mrs springlet is my  natural volumized hair… My cotton texture hair. My adorable curls. My uniqueness. My identity. Mrs springlet is made of black.

Mrs springlet is my pride.

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A poem

I might just write a poem. 

What about? I really Dont know; I think about 5 stanzas should do the trick 

Probably write an Allegory or an ode  or a Narrative poem or a free verse 

Make sure it has an overwhelming in depth meaning and give a voice to a collective grief… 

My readers might shed a tear or laugh about it 

Either way a message is been sent and it doesn’t matter how every individual decides to digest the message 

What matters most is reaching out.

The problems of the emirate state

We have just kicked off a season, not of football but of writing to save the belly, a season where campaigns are done on and off prints, a season filled with both constructive and destructive opposition activities, a season the arrowhead of leadership seem to talk/write in delusion. 
Needless to state the obvious, but one can’t lay too much emphasis on the fact that gorvenance is just about a perfect synonym to failure in Nigeria as a whole, but sadly enough even the opposition seem to be on the fastest route towards failure in every part of the country. As an individual who cherishes history even though most were from the words of the old, i think it would only be right for us to point out where we always get it wrong and why we may never get things right.
In 2003, i remember the scenario that played out in bits, as small as a child could be, first hand and first time experience would always be at a perfect position in their mind. An admiral had just conceded defeat from a gubanetorial poll and said “if it is what Allah wills’ and if it is what is best for our father land, so shall it be”. I had goosebumps all over my body, felt like a perfect ending to a movie which offcoss didn’t end there. Like many other people, we all had 1 or 2 issues with that administration, some of us the ‘elites’ even thought things could get worse with the young lad coming in, while some of us rallied behind him and gave him our utmost support. Which administration did better? At this point, it is a tale for the scholars. Fast forward till this very moment, the whole Nigeria has lost it, we probably never had it, those days could have just seemed to be what they were but not necessarily what it was. 

I’m a Kwaran, proud son of the Emirate, and a religious follower of happenings in the state, i decided to put pen to paper after reading some of the frequent publications we see in the dailies that have turned the states political terrain into a boxing ring, but is that really where we deserve to be now? Not at all. 
As i’m still yet to be inducted into any of our elders traditional assemblies, something that is unfortunately fast becoming extinct, have served for years as a medium where we really tell ourselves the truth eyeball to eyeball. One thing about leadership and follower-ship is a fact that it is a structure. A structure in the sense that the load imposed on the topmost column of a structure is transferred or rather eased through till the foundation base of the structure. There isn’t any iota of doubt that level of leadership across the length and breadth of the country is appalling, but Kwara may be described as even worse. Sorry if that sounds harsh, i wonder what leadership really is each time i read the daily replies of the aides of the present governor, they point out some lad as the architect of the new Kwara, new Kwara? They have the effrontery to consistently mention refurbishment or renovation as a project, servicing is a project?, they mention rehabilitation of several road, i would always love to help point out that a 7m or less bridge took 2 years to repair. Seem like a masterpiece, i see the highest level of mediocrity in the level of jobs in kwara, may i remind you all we have a cargo airport constructed by the architect of new kwara but hasn’t even had electricity in it in 4 years?, talkless of flying out the shonga products (if they so exist and are worth exporting). May i remind you all, one of the achievements of this administration is to pay youths ten thousand naira a month, put to that into real context, its just about 60 dollars, for a month? Absolutely decent. May i remind you all, this administration like the one before it and the one before the one before it gave out 100 taxis, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different result. May i remind you all, we have privatized our children’s destiny as well? Just about right.

The fact remains, its like that or just about better in about 60% of Nigerian states. It is far worse at the center, that is the reason why every right thinking Nigerian have developed this unprecedented sympathy for the (APC), we have all got certain issues with some members of this party, but like the elders say, (o san ki omo eni ku ju ki o sonu lo), we deserve better than someone who thinks leadership is just about personal interest, who else to blame than those who decided to individualize democracy rather than institutionalize it. The gentleman in the apex of the Kwaran government on paper and even the one in reality are just two out of the millions in kwara, in case you don’t get that, it is Kwaran to dictate and it is Nigerian to remain loyal to recklessness and carefreeness because any attempt to play otherwise is termed cowardice. 

The beauty of democracy as seen in most country’s is the provision of alternative capitalism. Do we have that? Not even close. I look at a group of people mostly frustrated ones, albeit used to be party of a certain ‘anarchy’, and all of a sudden they want to champion a freedom movement. This is exactly the reason why the Kwaran elites are as useless as the traffic light in geri alimi roundabout during elections. (Thank God the leader and his boys have removed that anyway). You come up with a tale of kwara has the second lowest unemployment rate when 45% okada riders deserve better, the jobless ones have taken their talents to predicting other peoples future, landing themselves in A division like its our dead tarmac. Then comes the opposition with 9 leaders, 9 governors, 9 frustrated Nigerians, 9 former loyalist of their new enemy, 9 people on a platform to champion an attempt to salvage ilorin (sorry Kwara, it takes a lot of memory might to remember there are other places that are being governed) into a dilemma of leadership motivated by personal interest.

All that being said, lets paint a picture, do we really have a new Kwara? Either upon us or in the pipeline? I would leave everyone to ponder (if there really is anything to ponder about). The main problem is our attitude over things that matter a lot, this goes from the manner at which politics is being handled, the perception politicians give to the game, the carelessness of giving the wrong people the right responsibilities. I mean the usual tradition of making a vertinary doctor a commisioner of works, or making an accountant commisioner of efucation. I would never align with the school of though practised essentially at the center of governance that says head of institutions are managerial positions hence, itellectual knowledge of the proffesion is not essential, thats why we would countinue to have weak institutions and weaker administrations as there isn’t and will never be passion towards service delivery, little or no knowledge towards what they are charged to do. I mean some people complain the type of roads we have are not good enough to last a decade whereas the design code give monumental structures a design age of 150 years and normal structures between 50-75 years. We neglect youth development in terms of every area, most markaz, or western schools with so much history are today in conditions there founders could have never imagined. Sport isn’t any better, we all cheered to the recent victory by the young lads of st. Barnabas lgea in west Africa, i was like any-other person proud of those boys, but lets remind ourselves, the pitch in that school has no single grass in it neither does the goal post have nets around them, but yet against all odds, these lads weathered the storm just like the bunch of talents i run into daily across the length and breadth of the state capital. How are they being harnessed? Proper facilities in place? Not at all, we just keep investing in football clubs that may spend there entire duration of existence gulping billions, rather than being a source of revenue generation. The last but most glaring reason why we may never get things right is how we don’t take part to take charge. From not always turning out in the polls (credible or not), to doing the back-room politics of talking without actions, rally around people with geniue intentions and push them till they get there. Next point reminds me of someone i have decided to name ‘Mr.Rices’ or the newly re-instated leader of Ekiti politics, the common factor is there political tactics, a tradition in kwara being announced to the nation at large, one day hunger steady leading us to lifetime hunger, our eyes are being deemed or even totally blinded with ‘waso’, ‘semo’ ati ‘puff puff’. May we be able to say no to such inducements, as the polls are even closer to this years hajj, it’s going to be sabaka voting season for those who allow themselves to be used.

A sincere look into the oppostion, i’m afraid doesn’t guarantee us anything different from the usual. Needless to say how weak and utterly dependent on the trending federal might they are. They are not the ones that would make “it good here” rather, they would ply another route towards our already dreaded destination. Our attitude needs to change towards these things even though our myopic perspective is rapidly blurring our promising future. To most eligibles or rather worthy leaders that don’t bother about Nigerian politics because it is depressingly predictable and since they can meet there daily needs, the present dilemma our dear state is in does not absorb any emotional interest from them, this is fine as they can easily flee to Abuja, Lagos, Accra, Paris, Dubai et al., to enjoy as much as they desire, may i remind them all, some day they will be asked where they are from and there will be nothing left to point to?, they will someday be 6ft below the ground where erosion would be washing away there grave site?, we will all one day be questioned about our conduct in this present lifetime, how we turned our sleeves and looked on unbothered whilst God’s blessings is being mismanaged. 

Ilorin, Gerin Alimi, Ilorin maisunjambi; on behalf of an emerging generation, we have missed the road sign, thanks to the leading generation, when will we embark on sensible leadership and constructive follower-ship (not where S.A’s and every ‘sarakite’ feels everything is right on empty stomach) we are threading a very dangerous path, one that could change our identity, an identity of peace and Harmony, identity of learned scholars and not prison imams, an identity of islamic knowledge, Qur’anic profficiency (shout to the young man who won the recitation competition recently in Saudi Arabia, may the blessings of our fathers, the shiekhs continue to be with you and other learned scholars that have decided to keep to the path of dignity). I pray we get it right come 2015, even-though everything seems otherwise, if we don’t get the right person to salvage us from this imminent ruin, may Allah (swt) guide whoever he wills to lead us unto the straight path in Sha Allah. Permit me to end this on a note of apology to whoever seem insulted by any of the statements made, it is made out of the highest level of sincerity and frustration together to motivate our wonderful elders to align us into a path where we can reach our potential.
                                                  Thank you,
                                           Sodiq Aganwo.

Mr 265 the columnist

I’m still trying to understand why I decided to  try online dating, but truth be told viewing profiles was hilarious. I came across different things, but none of those men seemed to be my type. I was getting bored so I decided to check out one last profile and I found it rather interesting, actually “Mr 265 the columnist” was super hot. I added him and he immediately messaged me, he was fun to chat with, we got talking, exchanged  numbers and decided to hook up…

He looked better in person, It was obvious he was dedicated to working out, he spoke well and sounded very intelligent. I ordered for strawberry tart and a cup of ginger and pineapple smoothie. I was shocked when he only asked the waiter to get him an empty glass cup. Our orders came and I didn’t hesitate to devour my meal. He took the empty cup and filled it with water from the dinner sink; I couldn’t believe it, I had to ask why in the lords name he did that. He went on and on about how ridiculous it was to spend 80 naira on a bottle of water. He continued about how people dont manage money, I really wasn’t cut out for his economist theories so I focused on my meal. I noticed he kept dipping his hands in the chairs and when I asked he said he was looking for lose change. He had to be a joker, when the date was finally over we stood outside and talked for a while. He excused himself and went back into the dinner and came back with a take away pack, he noticed i kept on staring; he smiled and said he  went back inside to get the waiters to pack a costumers left over meal and also get the waiter to reduce the price of my meal by 50% but the waiter didn’t buy his bargain. He figured I wouldn’t be comfortable and that is why he went back alone. I don’t get why I should feel uncomfortable I mean people pack left overs for their dogs all the time,I’m just glad I wasn’t there when he tried to get a discount. I swear I died when he told me he didn’t have a dog; the food was his, I didn’t want to judge him yet even though I was supper creeped out so I let him go on and on about how people in our generation are so wasteful and how low cost budgeting could save the planet. He gave an example, he said he takes a shower 3 times a week and he hasn’t bought soap in ages. Apparently showering 3 times a week saves a lot of water and reduces his bills drastically.

According to Mr265 sufing through others peoples trash is fun. He also prefers to shop at thrift and vintage stores because they save more money. He didn’t forget to tell me that he eats fresh food twice a week and eats leftovers every other day. All this finally helped me understand why he gave me dead flowers and twigs earlier. He probably picked it up in a trash can. This nigga made me walk 2miles because he didn’t come with his bicycle and he wanted me to exercise my body. Really! I also found out he has never been to the gym… He got his body by taking long walks, riding his bike and splitting firewood.I just couldn’t believe it.

Mr 265 i get that you are an extreme cheapskate person and I respect that decision. You have an amazing job and I mean you can actually lead a very comfortable life and still save and give back to the society while you are it. P.S I still believe I was pranked or you really wanted to scare me off. If this is really whom you are… Then God loves and understands you my friend.

The Date

Her kind of love

My lover has never taken our weekly dates for a joke, he takes his time to get ready for our date every Thursday, but one thing is certain; he never exceeds 4:30 pm at our favourite spot, downtown. That was where all the magic began; It took a lot of convincing from people before I decided to give my lover an opportunity to woo me, it was probably the best decision I ever made, it was love at first taste. Not in my wildest imagination did i expect such overwhelming emotions. 
   It was 4:37 and my lover wasn’t around, it was very unusual and it got me worried, I began to imagine all sort of scenarios in my head.  Good lord, what if my lover was in danger? Or what if I had been jilted once again? What if my love was being shoved back in my face again? What if I… Sweat started dripping all over my body especially in places I didn’t believe I could sweat, I felt faint, my heart began to race as though I was trying p90x for the first time. I was lost. Then finally I saw my lovers escort, I gave a sigh of relief. But the young lady had little to say as she hurried away. 
    My lover and I had spent four amazing weeks together. I could say without contemplation that it was in fact the best four weeks of my entire life. My lover isn’t the type to make one feel inferior about looks, weight or manners; he made me feel safe and secure. What if all this was a schrade? I just couldn’t bear the thought. Damn it was already 4:45 I just couldn’t take it any more. I needed answers and I needed it fast. I decided to storm into my lovers dressing room when his escort stopped me and explained the whole situation 
  At first i was too unnerved to understand what this man was saying,did he have good news for me? Or was he trying to sugar coat the tragic news. I stood there, gazing straight into his eyes searching for answers; in a way the man seemed relieved but still unsettled. 
When i finally snapped out of my clouded thought, i was made to understand that the chief cook turned in late at work that morning and this made the other chef’s work behind schedule. And that was the reason why the date i had with my juicey beans soup, filled with tender flavour busting red beef,and smooth white Tuwo shinkafa was 15 minutes late. Oh my it was indeed a long wait but in the end it was worth it. I could swear that the anxiety made my love for Tuwo and Beans soup multiply. I look forward to our next date my love. To savour your beauty and feel that burning sensation when i put you in my mouth.

So long a mail (chapter 4)

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fiction

Chapter four (Chery on top)

But he did no such thing, to a point he felt relieved. It was over but I wasn’t going to let that happen. I didn’t want it to be over, this wasn’t the perfect happily ever after. I wanted to be the girl that ended up with the first man she fell in love with. But the forces had a good laugh on this one.
   I couldn’t believe he wasn’t ready to fight to us, I blamed myself for trying to get his attention by breaking up  with him. Sometimes I convinced myself that I was better off without him. Months went by and I still wasn’t  over him, then he decided to have “the   talk” he didn’t want us together because he wasn’t going to be back in over 5 years, yes! That was his excuse. He said he still had feeling for me and we could find a solution. I was so excited, at least it was a step he was willing to take. Things seemed normal for couple of days then he disappeared once again. This time he was gone for months, not a word from him and when we finally spoke it was a very casual conversation, like he’d done absolutely nothing wrong. I didn’t get what was going on, I was lost molly; like how the hell do you say you love someone, disappear for months and then return like a prodigal child at the brink of death. Was i supposed to welcome him back with opened arms and spread legs on a silk bed sheet? I was confused and most importantly I needed answers. It was about four months after we had “the talk”. I just wanted to know where I stood, and why i thought it was okay for him to disappear and re appear. I remember I had an exam that morning, and his reply practically tore me into pieces. He wasn’t ready for “commitments” , truth be told i expected everything he said , i just didn’t expect to hear them from him. That wasn’t the hurtful part though,what hurt the most was that he didn’t have the decency to tell me earlier, he just left me hanging like a bat awaiting night time . He left me hanging I was just lost. My heart was literally broken. I just laid there in bed for days, I got upset for no reason, and food became the only thing that made me smile, I couldn’t stand men; they automatically made me sick but despite all this i still couldn’t get myself to hate him. I remember telling Sadia how I wish I was a lesbian feminist and she just laughed, I spent months feeling sorry for myself, blaming myself for scaring him off, nothing seemed worth while anymore. I was this close to loosing a really good job offer. I felt like the lord had turned his back on me and that I would probably end up alone with 28 cats  like aunt pearl. I didn’t even get a happy birthday message, and that was just the height of his shenanigans,lord knows how many asses and bitchiness I had to put up with for his birthday. he suddenly sent me a text out of the blues a month later like an uninvited spirit wishing me happy birthday. Saying sorry didn’t change anything; actually it helped me realise a lot. I was laying in bed one afternoon listening to  Cris Williamson’s ” the changer and the changed” ( no judging ) when it suddenly hit me; what was I doing being depressed? Feeling sorry for myself was something the old me found unacceptable. I mean I wasn’t a bad person and if he didn’t want to be with me that was his loss, a very huge loss at that. Lord i had an amazing job as a junior Editor and a new apartment. It was time to move on and i did just that.

So long a mail (chapter 3)

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fiction

Chapter three (entrée)

Things got back to normal for a short period of time, then it turned for the worse. He started acting wierd , I mean he was always busy, he didn’t have time to reply my messages or calls and he always had an excuse for his late replies. I was bothered and I remember asking him what the problem was and he said there was nothing wrong, but I could feel it; I just knew there was a problem, I wrote to Sadia to know if she knew anything about his sudden change of attitude and to my surprise she was covering up for him too, all she said was that I should remain calm. Days went by and we didn’t talk, and that was very unusual so I decided to call him. He sounded tensed and after asking him few questions he finally let it all out, he was having issues at work and he was facing dismissal. He said he didn’t want to stress me with his problems. ( i still don’t understand what , “not stressing me with his problems mean”) What actually hurt me was the fact that he told sadia not to tell me about it. We had been going out for over 7 months and I never hid a thing from him, and the fact that he kept things away from me meant just one thing; he didn’t trust me. I tried as much as possible to be there for him,ignoring all odds and signs. But everything I did wasn’t good enough, I got sick and tired of his excuses and his constant evasiveness. I flared up one evening and we ended up not talking for weeks. He then messaged me, apologising and telling me how much I meant to him but molly it just didn’t feel right. I couldn’t get my self to believe a word he said. I felt like I had lost him, like he felt bad for me and he remained in the relationship based on pity. I needed the the guy I knew 7 months ago back. I wanted my mans attention, love and time. Funny thing is , i knew he was getting with other hot girls in Riyadh, on few occasion’s he contradicted himself and gave way more information than he ought too. But i wasn’t too upset . excuse my foolishness dear, it’s amazing what a woman in love would stomach. Anyway I decided to break up with him. Hoping he would get back on his feet and fight for what we had. Darling you are allowed to shoot me in the face for the amount of stupid things i did…

So long a mail ( chapter 2)

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fiction

Chapter two (main Dish)

He called hours later, he wanted to work things out. Two days later we went on a date, it took hours before I could find what to wear, my heart was racing, my tummy was rumbling, i was just too nervous. After wasting hours being confused, i finally got ready and left the house.
We decided to meet up at some gaming center in town, well i was already about two hours late and still felt like shit. I kept on trying really hard to convince myself that everything was going to be alright, but every part of me begged me to turn back. And being a wimp that i am, i gladly welcomed the idea and made for the exit , when a masculine voice called out to me from lord knows where. I turned and tried to trace the voice half excited it might be him and half praying it wasn’t him. The voice came from the first floor and as i found the owner of the loud masculine voice my heart sank. It was him, and he told me to wait right there as he hurried down the stairs to meet me on the ground floor. Gracious lord! He looked better in person. He had this James Dean smile,( not as cute as James Dean’s of course) but he had an innocent smile, you know those genuine smiles that reach the eyes? Yes that was his kind of smile. We hugged for the first time, All these emotions and excitement running through my mind. Molly i wished to stay wrapped in his arms forever. We played table hockey at the arena, I remember whooping his ass at most of the games we played, I think he let me win. We saw the movie kill bill at the cinema, we got caught up in the moment, he leaned forward and kissed me. I felt what Cassandra Clare explained in her novel “clockwork angel” 

For a moment their mouths pressed hotly together, Will’s free hand tangling in her hair. Tessa gasped when his arms went around her, her skirts snagging on the floor as he pulled her hard against him. She put her hands lightly around his neck; his skin was burning hot to the touch. Through the thin wet material of his shirt, she could feel the muscles of his shoulders, hard and smooth. …”  

I spent a night at his house the following weekend, he made dinner, gave me the this beautiful pair of green boots he got for me. I really loved them,they fit perfectly and I just didn’t want to take them off. We smoked weed, laid in bed and watched something on the television. He began stroking my thigh, gradually lifting my short white dress, oh I tried so hard not to be distracted but the warmth of his fingers against my body was just too steamy. I remember turning off the television,and pouncing on him, I couldn’t not do it. I leaned down and kissed him, inhaling the sweet fragrance of his perfume and secretly marveled by his masculinity. He took off my bra, slowly worked his way up to my breast, the sounds I made where incredible, love mixed with sweet pleasurable satisfaction. I wasn’t shy at all to show that I liked exactly what he was doing to me, my breath became faster and the sounds I made more frantic until I gasped… 
We went on two more dates before he received a transfer letter, to resume work immediately at a small village in Riyadh. I didn’t want him to leave, even though we spent less than a month together, I had no regrets and for the first time In my life I thought of spending the rest of my life with him. Our relationship was just disturbingly perfect considering that it was a long distance relationship, and soon mother nature proved me right. One thing led to another in a very mixed up situation and i found out he was fooling around with this child he met a while ago, I knew little about it but I found out he “denied” being in a relationship with me. Oh my! I was just too upset, yet I foolishly forgave his ass, i wish someone had told me that was just the beginning of the drama ….

So long a mail (chapter 1)

Tags

fiction

Chapter 1( starter)

 

My dear molly, 
   I promised to tell you all about him in my next mail, I believe i am mentally ready to let it all out. 
We met around December 1999, we started off as mail buddies. Our conversation s were occasional at first then we grew fond of one another, couple of months later he asked me out,i found him quite charming and humorous. Even though we hadn’t met in person we shared pictures via the internet and mail. He worked far away in Vietnam as a war correspondent with my cousin Sadia. I didn’t hope for something serious at first, and falling in love with anyone was the last thing I wanted to deal with. At the onset he seemed really caring and he took the “relationship” quite seriously. Few months later, I found my self anticipating his return to Nigeria for summer. I was counting days, hours and minutes. I just couldn’t wait to see him, but then I was also nervous; what if I wasn’t close to what he had envisaged? Even though we shared pictures couple of times I was scared I wasn’t going to meet up his expectations. Molly “i cared”and that scared me to death. On his arrival to Nigeria we had an argument, he read a note I sent to my cousin when we started dating. I told my cousin I wasn’t really into him, I thought he was taking the relationship too serious and that he needed to slow down. I noticed his strange demeanor and sudden change of inclination towards me, I just didn’t know what was wrong and when he finally let the cat out of the bag; I was dumbfounded. I feared he was going to end the relationship, lord! I remember crying my eyes out and praying to God for a second chance. I took in my pride and “apologised” but he seemed way upset; in a subtle way. He said he needed time to think and that scared me. I sat there in front of the telephone, anxiously waiting for him to call me…

© 2014 Abeni

second wheel

“Wait a minute! Are you insane?” I asked myself as I sat in my car and continued to cry. Why would Banjo do this to me? What did I do wrong? For him to decide to bring a tramp into my matrimonial home and even do it on our bed? I knew he was seeing someone, I just didn’t believe he would have the balls to bring her into our home. This wasn’t the first time, but trust me it hurt more. What if I hadn’t missed my flight? What if I never got to find out? They needed to pay; Banjo needed to hurt. So I wiped my face, took my shoes off, went into the kitchen and took my omo orogun( I had to unleash the the yooruba girl in me). Can you imagine that girl had the nerves to still lay in my bed after I’d stormed out moments ago. I bet she was shocked to see me back in the room. The anger in me multiplied. I still can’t explain what came over me but I know I gave her the beating of her life. Focusing mainly on her knee and her feet, I made sure I hit the omo orogun real hard, this is an experience she won’t dare forget in a hurry. I probably broke her bone, but at that point I really didn’t care about what damage was being done. Come to think of it the girl was about two sizes bigger than me, one would think she would have being able to defend herself, I hadn’t gotten physical with anyone since my tomb boy terrordays in high school. But I’m really glad that part of me still existed and it came out exactly when I needed it to. Banjo was to scared to even utter a word, he had never seen me like this. I was like a wild bull on rampage; She managed to push me off and limp away half naked. I was too satisfied to run after her. Totally ignoring Banjo, I went into the bathroom, had my bath and wore that bum shorts he loved and a crop top, and also took my time to make up. I didnt have a plan yet. He was in the guest room now; I went to meet him and he was just lost, he must have thought I was possessed he couldn’t hide it. He tried to explain but then I didn’t have time to listen to him go on about how the devil put his penis
in her vagina. “Dinner is served baby. I made your favorite; basmati rice and shrimp sauce. I also got you fresh juice my love”. I grabbed his hand and tried to walk him to the dining, Banjo got on his knees and began to cry apologizing for what happened earlier. “Please Banjo stop being dramatic, all that is in the past”. He looked lost, he got his car key and left the house. Days went by and he didn’t return home, I kept on sending him flowers and lunch. Posting his pictures on Instagram and tweeting about how I had the best husband in the world and how he would never cheat on me. It went on for two weeks, I didn’t set my eyes on him. Only for his mum to send for me, wanting to know why I have been trying to kill her son? I ignored her and for weeks he kept on telling friends and family members to appeal to me. All I did was make sure he told them exactly what happened. Truth is I never wanted to kill him. All I wanted was for him to suffer, and live. In paranoia.