I am ZayZee

I refuse.....

2012-05-09T18:56:00.000+01:00

I refuse to rant even though that is exactly what I feel like doing right now. So in place of ranting, I will say thanks to the Lord for having brought me and my family this far. The year is obviously doing sprint and not a Marathon.

There were goals of course. First quarter goals posted where I could see every morning and pray with. Were they all met? No. Am I disappointed? Not really.

There are more goals for this second quarter and I refuse to quit believing. He said, though it tarries, wait for it, it shall surely come. So I will go with His words.

I won't complain. But I feel soooooooooooooooooo tired I swear. I wish I could just take a break of maybe six months or even a year! Oh yes. I have been working full time since 2001 and along the way I have discovered and learnt plenty. I have set different agendas and all. Still, I am restless. My present boss says it is the restlessness of youth. I wish.

Is this where I am supposed to be right now? Maybe not. Like I say sometimes about me, I get distracted so easily but I always direct myself back on the route I am supposed to be on.

So, I am on the road leading there. So I can still say thanks Lord for being with me all this while. With your help and direction, I shall return on that road. So if I am here today, I am supposed to be. So thank you so so much. And for the many many blessings you have showered me and my home with. It's exciting to know You and feel Your awesome Hands working. Hmm.

I have a Secret

2012-03-29T15:02:00.002+01:00

I have a secret that is sweet. Not all secrets are sweet but this one is so sweet and it makes me smile and makes me happy and makes me praise the name of God always.

I know what I want to do tomorrow. I know what I want to end my life doing. I know what brings me joy and satisfaction and again I will tow that road because while I was on that journey, I got interrupted, so return I must.

On an entirely different thing, man, am I glad it rained really heavily today or what? I enjoyed every moment of it. Only regret of course is that instead of being under my blanket at home, I am at my desk at work feeling sleepy and wishy. It is well sha.

As the month of March rows (or roll. can't bother to figure which fits) out, I can say thank you God. You didn't disappoint on the deadline and You so weren't late. So thanks for coming through yet again.

And, I seriously want to publish at least one book this year o. Even though I know I want to do this, I also know I can't push myself enough down that road. Seriously need some motivation and help. Lazy me.

When those times come

2012-03-12T15:05:00.002+01:00

There are those times when all we believe seem not to be working for us or the way we expect.

I have read the same scriptures many times over and understand them inside out. I can preach with them because I believe them so much and can not even begin to count the number of times God has come through for me.

I have always been this person who never let circumstances bother me. At all!. I grew up in circumstances that would make a best seller. Although from an early age, I wasn't close to God, but I knew He was particularly interested in me, so that knowledge, wherever it came from, made me strong. That knowledge gave me hope, it made me believe in tomorrow. And I grew up and I found Him and we established a relationship and I was redeemed from the curse of the law.

Never once has He failed me. He has always been an 'On Time God'. Never late. So knowing all the testimonies I have over the years, I grew a thick skin against circumstances and never allow worry to visit me.

But those times come, once in a while, when I think, I fear, I tremble, and I allow the devil to almost steal the word that I believe in.

He has told me, 'fear not, for I am with you'. But those times do come. And recently, they have been visiting much more than I want.

But before I fall totally, before I allow fear to grip me and envelop me all over due to some circumstances that is such a small deal for the God I serve to handle - before I fall into that trap that sends my faith into captivity, I remember again, that He has never failed and He cannot change His name today to a God that changes.

So this is just for the record satan, I have spoken His words to myself. I have put Him in remembrance of what He said He will do. Now I am telling you for the record that it's over and done with and I am at peace. You can bring your 'times' whenever you won't, but I will never be captive to fear. Never!

I Am So Ashamed!!!!!

2012-03-05T17:21:00.002+01:00

Yes, I am really ashamed of myself. Not blogging or making blog rounds. What excuse do I have? None, cos I'm almost always online. I keep saying I will and I will but I never.

Partly to blame of course is my head always on the road looking for something, thinking of something to do. You know, we all got to survive and that is exactly what I have been doing. Projects dreamed up that somehow, I am too lazy or too uninspired to carry out are also killing me as I try somehow to wake them up from the dead.

But I'm sure the blogville community is fine and growing without me. Even though many of the oldies have stopped blogging, there are lots of newbies I'm dying to read and get to know. So this time, when I say I am back for real, I am indeed back for real.

Happy Married Life Doll! Do have a blast with the license to ......

Mummy this or that…

2011-11-09T15:48:00.000+01:00

What is your name? Or what is in a name? You might want to ask. Growing up, mothers were called by the names of their first child (Mama Uzezi). As time progressed, mama was dumped for Mummy. These days, you hear Mummy James, Mummy Seyi and so on and so forth. It is okay. But does the woman’s name have to be forgotten just because she is now a mother?

Personally, it is okay for people to refer to you as Mummy (enter your son or daughter’s name). But those people should be people who know you a little bit. When meeting someone for the first time, shouldn’t the mother have a name? Even if you don’t want to tell your first name, than give Mrs. This or That. That is way more formal.

I remember the first time I met my neighbout; just before I moved in, I went over to introduce myself as her soon to be neighbor and asked her name and she replied ‘Mummy David’. Oh, okay.

I understand to some people, it is a thing of prestige. To others, it is because they don’t want people they feel are younger than them, to call them by their names without adding aunty, hence Mummy this or that…

Well, I guess it is a thing of choice. Personally, I want to retain my name. Even though you cannot stop people from calling you Mummy this or that once you have named a child, I doubt I will ever introduce myself as Mummy Uzezi.

2011-10-10T17:50:00.002+01:00

Searching

Hi guys, I know we have a lot of writers on blogville. Some published, some hoping to be soon. Anyway, I have a client who is searching for publishable manuscripts. If you write Christian fiction and can write stories for teenagers in secondary schools, then contact my client by clicking here.

In Times Like These

2011-10-03T16:57:00.001+01:00

We are living in very difficult times. Many of us do not even know or understand the magnitude of the terrible things that are going on behind closed doors. Criminal acts are constantly been committed by authority figures that are supposed to help us and the country.

Even the media cannot be trusted anymore. Many published stories in our dailies do not scratch the surface of the issues of this country and nobody is asking, nobody is saying anything, nobody cares, because those you are in a position to care, are affluent enough to protect their families from what the common Nigeria experiences. But for how long will they succeed at this? Some of the most powerful Nigerian media who are supposed to be the gatekeepers and report to the public have jumped to the other side of the fence and for money, will sell and are selling their integrity.

In all these, many believe there is no hope for Nigeria. As a young child many years ago, the adults will say ‘in our time or back in the days when things were good’. Now, I am the adult, and I cannot look back to any time when things have been better except the time when I could save 10k out of my 20k lunch money, twice, and buy a bottle of 29cl coca cola.

The economy sucks and from the look of things, there might be no hope. Unemployment has never been at its highest, but then, how do we even know those who are unemployed, when the jobless will tell you he or she is an entrepreneur when asked?

In times like things, when the prices of food commodities continue to rise, how should the masses survive? Why should a cup of beans be more expensive than rice? Price of every single food item or provision in the last three months has gone up twice without employees getting any meaningful increase in income. School fees have continued to go up because the children must be educated.

Then there is the issue of insecurity in the country amongst other. When dwelt upon, it is easy to join the crowd who believe the country is finished and will continue to fall.

But even in times like these, I choose to stand on the other side of the fence and believe that there is a time for everything. We are here today, but who says tomorrow wouldn’t be better?

I see tough all around me. I see difficulties and hopelessness, but thankfully, in the midst of all these, I see opportunities of a better tomorrow. And I choose to believe what I see. Even though the change doesn’t happen in my lifetime, no problem, I will continue to pray for it for this country, and thank the Lord for it because if not me, then my children and their children will have a better Nigeria.

Been More Than A While

2011-09-24T10:59:00.001+01:00

I don't have an excuse except laziness. I haven't been here like forever and cannot remember the last time I did blog rounds. So much has happened in my absence. Lots of new bloggers replacing infrequent bloggers. Anyway, this is a return to full time blogging. Henceforth, once a week update and blogrounds. In the meantime, here's a new blog www.me4initiatives.blogspot.com

For those of you who love reading and writing, you should visit the above linked blog. And as for writing, I will start uploading my short stories from years back, some of them previously published in newspapers and novellas, and most of them decorating my folders, yet to be read by anyone. Maybe that will motivate me to start writing again. Also, I think I might add a new blog to my blogs or just change this one totally, since I'm having laziness trouble, keeping up with just one. I don't know yet. But I'm serious about being back to blogging interesting and better stories. Not necessary about me. Who wants to read about boring me? Haha! Later guys.

Biz Avenue

2011-05-24T17:33:00.005+01:00

I have been doing some work and helping to put together a programme on TV for Business Avenue. Its still being worked upon but its a place where knowledge about products as well as making more money for oneself will be featured. Pls check here

There is also a facebook group here People are taking advantage of the group to advertise whatever they have to sell. It can be useful to you too.

The funny thing is....

2011-04-01T23:33:00.003+01:00

I know how to dance. I really do. And I believe I sing very well. The only person who thinks otherwise is the guy formally known as Caveman.

In my younger days, (over a decade ago) I was seriously writing lyrics because I wanted to pursue a career as a musician. And I knew all those Janet Jackson, Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera step dance. Nothing special there because I used to do step dance in school. Anyway, my ambition at 17 to go to New York to dance on top of tables did not come true. Thank God. But for me to think that, I must have been one hell of a dancer right? Nobody can tell me I don't know how to dance. Even won a price when I was 7 for good dancing.

But the not so funny thing is that, dancing in church is not coming out the way I want. Seriously. You know during praise and worship when they suddenly switch into these Yoruba songs and everybody goes konko below, swinging from left to right?

I know those steps and I even have these praise and worship CDs in the house. I play them and watch myself dig it in front of a mirror and it comes out well. But in church, I miss the steps and if you are watching, you might think I will fall down. Anyway, I no care o. At least I sabi shake body pass some people.

On a more serious note now people, I don't think there is anything wrong with me and languages but I am not just interested. I want to know how to speak Yoruba. I just can't. It is becoming embarrassing that I was born in Lagos, lived all my life here and cannot speak the language. I have very good excuse for my not speaking it due to growing up location and surrounding and boarding schools away from Lagos. But I spent almost two years in Abeokuta before returning to Lagos last year. What is my excuse now?

Any advice here? I have a yoruba dictionary, but it's too deep. What can I do and why are there no Yoruba schools like French schools anyway?

I never turn my blog to advice only zone o!

PS: INEC gave my offie only 3 accreditation to cover the election. Are they serious? Why will you give a media house just 3 accreditation? Some media houses got 4, but most got 3. It means tomorrow, or today rather, I cannot cover the elections due to no pass. I will just observe my surroundings. I hope there will be more to cover the presidential election. Pls guys, if you registered, go out and vote so that the ballot papers will not be wasted. For it is easier to rig when unused ballot papers are available.

Advice me on this

2011-03-28T23:14:00.002+01:00

My neighbour’s children do not greet!
It is crazy I have to begin a post with that line. But the sooner I find a solution to this, the better I would be because I am used to being friends and at peace with my neighbours whether young or old.

I am almost 2 months old in this compound and I have a particular neighbour with grown children. A boy and three girls. I’m sure there are others from the same flat because I saw a smaller boy sweeping their balcony yesterday. Anyway, my concern is with the big boy and other girls. Initially, the youngest girl would stare at me, but having realised I’m in the compound to stay, and probably realising we are no mates at all, she greets.

Now her sisters. At first, I always saw one frequently because we meet at the gate most times so I’m either asking her if she is going out or coming in so I could lock the gate behind me. I see it as nothing to say hi to anyone, older or younger than me. So when she and her brother passes me, I nod a greeting ‘hi hello’ at them or even good afternoon. But one day, I was spreading my launderings; she came, stared past me and walked away. And her brother does same. Since then, I stopped my ‘hellos’ or any greetings because they expect it from me and I think it is wrong. So now when we see at all, we just walk past ourselves. And I still think, that is wrong.

The other day, I returned from the market to meet the boy washing his dad’s car. He stared at me without a welcome or even offering to help with my obviously heavy bags. Now, I wasn’t expecting the help but it is the polite thing to do. It is what my younger brother would do. And it is left for me to say, no don’t worry, thanks.

It takes nothing out of me to greet or say hi, but I feel if I continue at it, they will see nothing wrong in their behaviours. And these children are no mates of mine! The oldest of them would be at least six years younger than me. Seriously, maybe if I was plump or bigger a little, maybe they would know we are not mates because people find it difficult believing I am an old woman. They think I probably left secondary school 2 or 3 years ago and got married because I wear jeans and Tshirts with them. And seriously, what will I wear, how will I dress that will make me look older or at least my age? I am being harassed constantly and it is neither funny nor complimenting. I guess I will have to learn how to harden my face or something. My only refuge will be going about tying two wrappers and gele. But who can do that anyway? Everyday cannot be a traditional marriage ceremony na.

I thought the next time I saw the girl who loved to stare, I would ask her her name (don’t know any of their names) and whenever I see her, I will mention her name and greet her, since that is what she wants. But I didn’t think that approach was nice. So if you were in my shoes, what would you do?

(Desperate Housewives) Before I lose My Husband (2)

2011-03-22T17:07:00.002+01:00

Bukola was in a desperate situation. She didn’t have anyone she could discuss the issue with because it wasn’t a topic she would be comfortable discussing. She always thought about how to begin such a conversation? That she lost her husband because she wasn’t comfortable with sex?

Abbey moved into the guest bedroom in the ninth month of their marriage. It was a Saturday and she had gone to the market to stock up the house with foodstuff. By the time she returned, he had gone out. Although when she was leaving, he didn’t say anything about going out. That has become a new habit, where he doesn’t tell her anything about his movement. He hardly talks to her in the house and when she greets him or asks him something, he answers under his breath. But that Saturday when Bukola opened the wardrobe to change and noticed all his things gone, she knew they were heading for the end of their marriage.

She broke down and cried wondering where help would come from. She had been praying for divine intervention into the problem and nothing has happened. This wasn’t what she thought her marriage would turn into, but then she never really thought about it or understood the institution of marriage. She could only judge with her parents’ marriage, and as far as she was concerned, that was what she was hoping to get.

Bukola made up her mind to attack the issue and immediately called Abbey on the phone. It rang several times, but he didn’t pick. Various scenarios ran through her mind. It wasn’t always she gets to call him on the phone but when she does, he picks, so where could he be? Bukola waited all day for him to return and when he finally did late at night, she asked him why he didn’t take her calls. Abbey said he was at a noisy place watching football and left her in the sitting room and went to bed in his new room. No dinner.

Abbey made it impossible for her to ask him any questions. They continued this way for a week before he travelled for a course that lasted 3 months. By the time he returned, Bukola had moved his things back to their bedroom. He said nothing about it, so Bukola took it as a sign that the answers to her prayers were at work. He even bought her gifts from the trip which convinced her more that things were going to get better. But that day of his return was the first and last day they conversed for over 30 minutes since their problems began. Because soon enough, Abbey made sure he stayed out late until she had slept and he left home early. The only time things appeared normal was when they had relations visiting for the weekend. Then Abbey came home early, ate in the house and pretended with her that all was well. But it was a lie she couldn’t change or share out of shame and fear. She continued to trust God, went for prayer meetings, and never missed church. She was looking for answers but wasn’t getting them until one Sunday morning, something happened in the house.

She usually left for church earlier than Abbey because her church was further than his, and they had different services. But on this morning, she walked into the kitchen looking for him when he wasn’t in the guest bedroom and noticed him all dressed up for church. Bukola had come to tell him she was going to church and would be out till evening because she would visit her parents. Asking why he was dressed, he answered he wanted to attend his church’s first service for a change. And at that moment, she felt a deep urge to ask to follow him to his church, but she couldn’t speak. She needed ways to spend more time with him. So with a heavy heart, she returned to the bedroom to retrieve her bag and broke down crying.

Abbey heard the muffled sounds and knocked on the door before he entered. Bukola, who was turned away from the door, felt him standing at the door for a while and just looking at her. After a while, he went and held her in an embrace, their first body to body contact in a very long time.

After she quieted down, he told her he had to get going else he would be late. “Can I come with you?” Bukola asked him and he looked at her quietly for seconds and nodded.

This week's edition of 'Desperate housewives'

Before I Lose My Husband (3)
“Can I come with you?” Bukola had asked her husband, Abbey. That day was also the first in a long time they sat together in a car. And the 20mins drive to his church was in silence. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing. She didn’t know what to expect. She had no idea what was going through his mind, as she continued to steal glances at him. But he wore a very serious countenance. One she had never seen before.

All through that day’s service, Bukola’s mind was occupied with her problems, so when Abbey asked her on their way home if she enjoyed the service, she shrugged. On getting home, he reminded her she was visiting her parents. She told him they could wait that she had things to sort out. Things like what? He wanted to know but she couldn’t frame her words. What happened this morning, Buki, what is going on here? He continued to question her.

Bukola was confused. She felt he ought to know she was making a move towards solving their problems and should take the steps with her. “I’m tired,” she told her husband and he nodded and said he was also and had been sad a long time he was going to be a divorcee. “What?” she asked. “We are not ending this marriage. It is against my religion!” Abbey laughed wanly and walked away into the guest room.

Bukola sat dazed for a while and hurried after him into the room without a knock. “Can’t you see I am trying to change? You asked what happened this morning. It is me trying to tell you and not finding the words that I am tired of living this way and want a change for us and admitting I need help. I don’t know what to do or who can help me, but the last thing I want is to end this marriage and it’s not just because of religion, which hasn’t helped me despite all my prayers, but I do love you. I am willing which is why this morning and your church happened, Abbey. Say something.”

Bukola was crying then and waiting for him to say something or even look at her, but he didn’t. She went and knelt by the side of the bed where he was sitting and touched him, willing him to raise his head and look at her. When he did, she discovered he had tears in his eyes. Bukola realised at that moment that her husband had also nursed the same fears she had. He asked her to sit beside him and they sat there quietly, saying nothing but just being together, each with different thoughts.

Eventually they went to the kitchen for a late breakfast and he asked where they could start from. She said she didn’t know but felt they were doing the right thing, talking and being together. He nodded.

That Sunday was the beginning to recovering for their marriage as well as their pains. They were together the whole day and he came to sleep in their bedroom but didn’t move close to her. While they discussed their work and mutual friends, Bukola’s was anxious about what would happen next or what wouldn’t, but she had made up her mind things had to change. When she got up to turn out the light, he asked her to leave the light on.

“I want to see you and want you to see me,” he said. Bukola’s fears were back. Abbey left the bed to stand by her. “Remember what you said about change? Let’s try. You don’t have to be scared. I am your husband, you are my wife and I love you and we cannot avoid this.”

She was scared and she was expectant and she was shy but she let Abbey take her on a road she wasn’t familiar with.

Bukola described that first week beginning the Sunday they went to church together as the best week of her life. The road has been bumpy but she is rediscovering a new Abbey, their friendship growing deeper by the day. Her parents who believed she would eventually bring Abbey over to their church were shocked when she told them she was joining Abbey’s church. Everyday has become a blessing of love and friendship and surprise.

It’s been four months since that Sunday morning and Bukola is still enjoying her new found love. In another two months they will have their second wedding anniversary, but Bukola and Abbey are marking that Sunday as the most special date never to be forgotten.
The End.

The story appears as it was published in the 'Desperate Housewives' column, in Business Hallmark Newspapers last week and this week. Stories are real and are shared to educate women and also for advice. Names are changed for reasons of privacies. If you have a story to share, yours or the story of someone you know, feel free to contact me.

(Desperate Housewives) Before I Lose My Husband

2011-03-14T10:50:00.004+01:00

The problem began on the night of her wedding and continued into the second year of marriage. She and her husband have become strangers living in the same house, not the two people who came together to be one flesh that day that everyone gathered to rejoice with them.

Bukola’s wedding was a big occasion because her family had almost given up on her when a man appeared. So when Abbey proposed, she was overjoyed and within a year of meeting each other, they were married.

She met Abbey at a singles function that was organised by her church. Being in the choir, she led the praise and worship that evening and he approached her after the programme to commend her voice. As they walked outside the church together, he told her his mission. He wasn’t exactly a member of her church but being in the media, he went around churches looking for good programmes he could get sponsorship for to air on TV. He wanted her to direct him to the right person and she did. They parted ways, exchanging information.

Bukola is a born-again Christian who basically grew up in the church because her father was one of the elders. Being a missionary’s daughter, she was brought up to understand what is proper and improper for an unmarried girl to do. Her mother always drummed it into her ears that her body was the temple of God and fornicators will be punished by God.

And in making sure that she wasn’t in any way soiled, she attended an all girls secondary school where her mother was a teacher and when it was time for her to proceed to higher institution, she was registered in the one close enough for her to commute from home daily because her parents didn’t want her to become like the girls they see, who become transformed the first year they get into the university.

Being born again, Bukola did not encourage boyfriends. Besides, she really wanted to remain a virgin till her wedding night and she could see and hear sex written all over the language of the guys who approached her. She trusted God to be faithful to bless her for trying to live a holy life.

The years after university were the most trying for her. Her parents believed she must have committed a terrible sin which was why God was punishing her by not sending her a husband. She was subjected to rigorous fasting and praying and deliverance exercises. Bukola couldn’t dare move out, so she prayed for a husband and waited.
When Abbey called her two weeks after they met to seek her opinion on a small job her church was giving him, she was surprised and glad and hoped he was a good person.
He turned out to be a good person. He was funny, outgoing and loving and she fell in love for the first time in her life. He invited her to his church but she couldn’t go because she led the choir and it shouldn’t be heard that the deacon’s daughter attended a Pentecostal church.

During their short courtship, Abbey liked to talk about very personal things she wasn’t comfortable with and he always laughed and called her shy. He even joked about his never having a virgin before and thus was encouraged to go along with her desires until they were married. He even got closer to God.

But when that night came, she remembered all she had being taught. He tried to make her relax and asked her to go along and enjoy sex. But she couldn’t. She was a Christian. She was told a lady who enjoys such pleasure is a daughter of Jezebel. All she could manage was to lie still and at the end she went into the bathroom. The next morning he tried to make her understand it was okay because they were married. Still, she couldn’t discuss such topic with him. She couldn’t be naked where he was. He asked they go for counselling in his church but she refused. His church was too different from hers.

In the early months of marriage, their nights were a repeat of their clumsy wedding night. Gradually, Abbey stopped touching her. Initially, she was relieved by it and her fears of nights were banished. But as months passed without him making any move towards her, she suddenly realised that she had lost him; the fun and outgoing Abbey was gone and replaced by a quiet and withdrawn man.

So one night, she cried her heart out to God.

To be continued next week.

The story appears as it was published in the 'Desperate Housewives' column, in Business Hallmark Newspapers last week. Stories are real and are shared to educate women and also for advice. Names are changed for reasons of privacies. If you have a story to share, yours or the story of someone you know, feel free to contact me.

I Didn't Go Away

2011-03-10T20:42:00.000+01:00

Blogging has become one other thing I have gotten so lazy about. But I am still here, and still want to blog and do blog rounds but I don't know why I don't. And I'm always online. I need to make a new month or new week resolution to blog more. Hope the blog family is still very much in tact. Miss you all and this is still my space and I am stil Zayzee.

I'm off to your blog now!

What About You?

2011-01-04T23:17:00.000+01:00

In an editorial meeting today, my publisher asked each person: 'if you were a PDP delegate, who would you vote for during the primaries?' 99% of us said Jonathan. 1% said Atiku because he is more confident.

And I was thinking that despite all the faults we have seen in Jonathan and all the mistakes he's been making, he still is the preffered choice. I pray come the primaries, the will of God will be accomplished. I pray in 2011 the graudual changes that God intends for our beloved country will become obvious for those who doubt that dry bones shall rise again. Nigeria will rise. And so will every person reading this right now. You shall rise and increase in every area of your life and the transfer of God's favour unto His children will find you in Jesus name.

Happy New Year Everyone.
And I put the question to you. 'Were you a delegate of PDP, who will you vote during the primaries?'

Desperate Housewives (When to Let Go )

2010-12-09T16:51:00.002+01:00

As published in the `Desperate Housewives`column. Extra Newspaper.

She had thought about getting a divorce several times. Each time she did, she quickly vetoed the idea for several reasons. It has been three years of marriage and the best she has gotten is her daughter. If Priscilla were older, maybe she would have decided long ago. But her daughter is only two.

Modupe drives a good car and lives in a beautiful house. She works as a secretary in a telecommunications company. She is an elegant lady to behold with a ready smile that attracts people to her. When men meet her for the first time, they are awed by her down to earth attitude. They tell her that her husband is lucky to have snatched her off the market.

Modupe met Larry five years earlier onboard an airplane on her way to Dubai with her friend Pat. They were going on a five day shopping holiday in preparation for Pat’s wedding. He had an aisle seat like Modupe and soon engaged her in a discussion. He asked to be invited to the wedding, saying he could be lucky to meet his future wife there.

Six weeks later, Modupe and Larry were testing the waters. She knew she wanted to get serious with him from the onset, but there were times he seemed uninterested.

Thinking it was because of a lady called Rita whom he once introduced to her, Modupe wanted to know what had happened to her. He said they dated a long time ago and were just friends. Later, it was easier for her to believe because Rita became engaged, married and moved to the UK with her husband.

They dated for two years before Larry asked her to marry him. She wasn’t expecting a proposal because their relationship wasn’t very serious. Larry was neither in it nor out of it. Although he was good to her and provided her with whatever she wanted, the emotional connection was missing. Yet, she agreed to marry him because he was different from all the other guys she had dated. He never promised her what he wouldn’t give. He always stood by his words.

Their marriage ceremony came and went. The first few months were an improvement on their relationship and she believed that Larry had finally taken a turn and she relaxed. She had her baby on their first anniversary. A week later, Larry traveled to the UK for business. The week he returned was the week her marriage ended.

He told her passively that he ran into Rita and was surprised to learn that she was divorced and had returned to the country. She waited for him to say more and he didn’t and she didn’t know what to ask.

The subject of Rita was a difficult one. All he told her about Rita was that they dated. The rest she found out from her sister in-law. Larry and Rita were together for six years. They broke up because her parents refused Larry who was from Edo state. They wanted an Igbo son in-law. It was two years after the break up that Modupe met Larry.

That week turned into months, and it is two years. Now, they live as housemates. He still gives her everything. He adores their daughter, but they don’t live as husband and wife anymore. Larry came home from work one night and said he would sleep in the guest room. It continued the next day until it was constant.

Modupe sat him down one day and asked what she did wrong. Larry apologized. He said he knew he wasn’t being a good husband. He told her that despite what she thought, he did love her. He asked that she be patient with him that he was going through a personal crisis. Having everything doesn’t mean anything to her anymore because her husband wasn’t hers.

She doesn’t know what Larry wants. He hasn’t said he would leave her for Rita. He spoke with Rita once in a while, but Modupe knew he wasn’t having an affair with the lady. Yet. Larry was the type of man who was faithful to a cause. And he went out of his way to let Modupe know about his movement because he did not want her thinking he was secretly seeing Rita.

Yes, she had thought about divorce several times. And each time she did, she quickly vetoed the idea for several reasons. For one thing, Larry was a very good man whose emotions were at pieces. It hurts her to think of it, but he was trying to make it up by making sure she lacks nothing. She had asked him if he wanted to leave her for Rita, he shook his head and said he couldn’t do such to Modupe because she didn’t deserve it. Again he asked that she be patient that what he was trying to do was get over Rita completely.

And there was their daughter to consider. She wouldn’t put her through a divorce. Modupe is hoping that Larry’s demons would be exorcised in time so she can have her husband and marriage back. How long will it take? Will she have to let go?
*Share your story with us. Names and locations will be changed.

Anything Wrong With This?

2010-12-03T12:43:00.002+01:00

Where I come from, it is common for people to be buried in their homes. When I was younger, it was scary to think about, but not anymore as both my paternal grandparents were buried in the sitting room of their houses. I am yet to hear about spiritual implications or pschological effects of this practice on people. Though renting the same house out to people who don't know about somebody being burid there, is wrong. These houses should not be rented out. What is your opinion?

And We Are One....

2010-11-22T11:06:00.002+01:00

We sat and watched the ceremony
Going on around us
We were at a marriage ceremony.

It began like a child’s play
I thought I was going in for a fling
What I got was a serious relationship
Very different from others of the past
We had our moments of joy and sadness
Intense disagreements that could
Have packed us up
But the Lord who made
Our paths to cross, watched over us

Lots of memories encased inside 32 months
Since our journey began
At a point, he became my number one treasure after Jesus
And he tells me how glad he is that I flirted and chased him
For if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be writing this
He wouldn’t be my caveman
I wouldn’t be his wife.

Yes, we watched the ceremony
Going on around us
He said it’s like being at someone’s
Marriage ceremony.
Well, it was the Caveman & Zayzee
Becoming one...

Desperate Housewives (New Edition)

2010-11-05T14:02:00.002+01:00

From my column in the Extra Newspapers. If you are in Nigeria, please ask a vendor for this newspaper, especially on Mondays. It is a weekly.

BEFORE & AFTER ‘I DO’
I once heard a story about a lady who, early in her teen years, decided she wanted to be a full time house wife. In achieving her goals, she took her studies seriously, left secondary school with good grades and got admitted into higher institution. She graduated and completed her NYSC in due course and got a good job. While working, she enrolled for a one year programme at the Lagos Business School. There at the school, she had various suitors, encouraged them all and decided on the one to go for. While he wasn’t a wealthy man yet, she saw the prospects of how fast he would rise and in less than five years after they were married, her prediction came true and she could afford to be a full time house wife.

I don’t know how true the above story is, but it does teach a lesson; that you have to work to get what you want. Unfortunately, most ladies today concentrate only on the days and time preceding getting married, and fail to plan for ‘after the marriage’.

Rita’s marriage invitation shocked everyone especially her close friends because they knew she wasn’t in a relationship. On incessant probing, she finally revealed that John was a guy she twice dated. They dated in and out of secondary school for two years and got back together when she was in her final year in the university. The second time did not last up to six months and in the six years since they broke up, had not seen each other. When fate made their paths to cross again, she believed it was destiny. She believed they never should have separated years ago. She believed that John was her destiny, the reason all her other relationships were always shipwrecked.

In less than two months after their reconciliation, plans for their marriage kicked off. It felt safe to rejoice with Rita because finally her prayers were answered. She had been looking for a husband for quite some time. She even went for her masters in a good school in Lagos, hoping to meet the perfect husband material. She just didn’t care of the guy’s tribe or religion, as long as she got a ring on her finger and changed her last name. She desperately wanted to become Mrs. Somebody before she hit the big 30. As a result, she settled for abusive men and relationships that always shattered her self-esteemed. And in a bid to appear as the perfect wife material, she tried to live a type of lifestyle she believed was humble and simple for a would-be wife. While she could afford to live in a very good environment and buy herself a car being a top staff at her place of work and earning good money, Rita played it safe. She lived in an overpopulated environment and compound where she couldn’t have her own privacy and refused to get herself a car. She didn’t want her success to scare men away.

30 came, stared her in the face and went by, making her miserable. No amount of preaching or advice could help her. She clung on to religion the wrong way because she never went by the Word. Yet she couldn’t set out and get herself a man by being daring and in charge. When the real husband materials cross her path, they hardly last a month because she chases them off with her attitude and desperation. Then finally, along came John, for the third time.

He is good looking, tall, doing relatively well, a Christian and from the same town with her. And more important, he was looking for a wife, so he could settle down.
The ceremony was big. Friends and well wishers rejoiced with them and despite the ceremonies being far away from Lagos, where Rita had relocated for years, her colleagues from work all trouped to her home town to support her.

Two weeks after the marriage, John returned to his base in Ghana. Rita’s family had asked them what their plans would be after the marriage. Is she relocating? Is he relocating? How many months interval were they giving themselves before the final relocation? Rita and her husband brushed the questions away. While it was an issue that bothered Rita, she and John never discussed it prior to their marriage or after it, before John left. She was scared of getting him angry because she still remembered from years back how John would explode over issues he felt he should decide himself. So she kept quiet and prayed about it.

John being the one who likes to make the decisions didn’t make any. He didn’t say when next they would get together. The only decision he took was to move his wife into his parents’ house, so his parents and siblings could keep an eye on her.

Rita became more depressed as time went on. On the phone, when they discussed, John never said anything about his coming over, or her joining him. Granted that she made more money, she was ready to leave her job. Her friends tried to advice her on the step to take and Rita for once, listened. So she told her husband that she was due for her annual leave and would be coming to Ghana for a month. Without giving it a thought, he told her not to come over. Rita was shocked and hurt and did not understand why. Her in-laws were even concerned and spoke with their son, but nothing changed.

Eventually, John came to visit, nine months after their marriage. He stayed for five days. Before leaving, they had a heart to heart discussion and he revealed he had a live in lover who has a child for him and his parents are aware of the child. He doesn’t want to marry the woman. He thought marrying Rita would give the woman the idea to leave, but it didn’t. While he didn’t apologise for his act of deception, he said he would work things out. Rita didn’t have enough time to get angry because the discussion took less than ten minutes and he carried his bag and left for the airport. She was distraught. How could he not tell her before they got married?

She waited, but she didn’t know what she was waiting for. Could she trust John to work it out? And even if he could, will she ever trust him again? Unfortunately, she convinced herself it was safer to be married than single, and being a divorcee would make getting a man more difficult.

John could not work things out because when he left the house that morning to return to Ghana, he never got to Ghana. Nobody knows if he even got to the airport. Nobody knows where he is. He sort of disappeared from the face of the earth. His parents after some months were able to go through the passenger manifest of the day John travelled, but his name wasn’t there. He was nowhere to be found. Did he travel somewhere else, never to return again? Is he dead? Who could answer? And Rita? She was still his wife. Waiting and hoping and believing God.

Almost a year after the strange disappearance of John, his Ghanaian live-in lover contacted his parents concerning their grandson. She said John fooled her. The day he came to Nigeria, she left for the UK with her son. John was supposed to join them from Nigeria but he never showed. She had since returned to her country and had spent that long trying to contact them. She only wanted them to know where their grandson was, since John was no longer in the picture.

Rita got a place for herself and moved out of her in-laws house. On her second wedding anniversary, she took off her rings. She is single again and searching for a husband.

Is she doing the right thing?

It's Coming Again!

2010-11-01T15:50:00.004+01:00

I did a post just last month about the flood situation in parts of Ogun and Lagos state, which affected my office. It was due to some doors of the dam in Ogun state, being opened because said dam was full to bursting capacity. Anyway, these pix are from the flooding and see my office submerged to the extent that some staff had to use a canoe to access the production building. We have enjoyed two weeks of no water and dry land. This morning, we came to work and realised the water is coming back! Gradually. The crazy thing is, this flood situation from Ogun state, which always affects parts of Lagos, especially Mile 12, Owode and Ikorodu area, is not new. It occurs every two or three years! And the government knows! And yet, nothing is being done to channel the excess water somewhere for safekeeping untill it is needed. And ironically, there are parts of Ogun state that do not have water supply. In a matter of months, when the dry season comes, more areas and farmers will be in need of water, and here we are! If this situation isn't man made, then what is it? There are people in Ikorodu and Mile 12 that lost their homes to the flood. Its crazy really. I go do one man riot very soon

Desperate Housewives

2010-10-27T11:56:00.002+01:00

......So I write this new column called 'Desperate Housewives' in the new weekly ‘Extra Newspaper’ where I discuss issues that women are faced with which forces them to take actions that could either save their marriages or change their status from Ms to Mrs. The pains some go through in the hands of men, yet they struggle to keep the relationship etc.

Read the first edition below.

Have You Found It?

Over the weekend, I had the opportunity of chatting online with an old girlfriend whom I haven’t communicated with in over a year. I had actually lost her phone number when my phone was stolen.

Honestly, I should have left her offline messages because I was the only one with a means of reaching out, since I knew where she lived and had changed my phone number, making it almost impossible for her to reach me. Besides, I was living in a different state and she has never visited me there.

Seeing her online, I buzzed her and we got chatting. Catching up on news about us and by the end of the evening, I was all smiles because I was deeply and really happy to hear all the good things that have happened in her life in the short time we hadn’t communicated.

She relocated to the US. Halleluyah! She got married! Double Halleluyah! To an African American! Triple Halleluyah! That’s right. I thanked and praised God on her behalf and prayed His good favour in her life will know no end because if there is anybody who deserves to be really happy- and I could touch and feel the happiness from her words- she does because she has been through so much in the hands of fate and men. Hmm!

The society is full of activities. You never know what goes on behind closed doors of many homes. The grass has always looked greener on the neighbour’s lawn. You never know what lies behind that lady’s smile when you tell her how lucky she is to have found it.

What exactly is it? It has different meaning to many women. For some, it is a man with wealth. For others, it could be love or children, or the perfect career, or a combination of all. It could be winning a jackpot of marrying a foreigner and getting a quick visa to citizenship of a developed country. It could be more than I can possibly imagine or name. At the end of the day, it is peace and happiness and contentment. So the question is, how many women really have it?

A man with wealth, doesn’t guarantee that a woman’s problems are over. Marrying a foreigner and living abroad doesn’t either. We only need to look at the divorce rate in the western world to realise that it isn’t perfect anywhere for women.

Nevertheless, the society is full of desperate women and housewives who will do anything to have it. Desperation has given rise to the number of depressed women in the society in need of help.

There are some desperate women whose desperations are well founded. I cannot say the same for others who are still in a position to change their situation but choose to do nothing about it because of greed or very wrong orientation to what they feel they deserve.

The society even, is responsible to some extent for the situation most women find themselves in. When does a girl become a lady and when is it not proper anymore or respectful to call her a lady but a woman?

Why does it have to be a stigma not to be married after a certain age? Why does most men get away with so much evil behaviour with no regard whatsoever for the trauma they cause the woman with their actions? Yes. I call it evil.

A woman wakes up one morning and her perfect life is suddenly over. She had the career, she had the man, she had the children and most importantly, she had love. In just a moment, he says, it is over. He’s found someone else who is about to have his baby. What is she supposed to do?

A woman searched for so long to find a husband. Then she gets him, and in a matter of months, realised they cannot be together due to several factors, but they try to work it out. Or rather she does. Then all of a sudden, he disappears, with no trace whatsoever. Two years and still counting he is AWOL. What is she supposed to do?
He was her first love. They’ve been together since they were teenagers. They are ripe for marriage, but he keeps postponing. She doesn’t mind, because they are madly in love and she knows eventually they will tie the knot. She had no reason to worry because they were meant for each other. And one day, by accident she discovers he has a baby and still sees his baby mama and realises the reason he wouldn’t commit is because he probably wants to bring up his child with his baby mama. What is she supposed to do?

This is the world of desperate housewives. Whether you are married or not, this is your world to learn and to share your pains as long as you are woman and wife material, because we cannot help not being desperate, if we really must have it. It can come like all good gifts which comes free, but we have to work to keep it.

Eyes have not seen, ears have not heard, nor has it entered into the hearts of men the extent a woman would go to have it. We fall, but we rise again. We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed because we know, that as long as there is life, there is hope of finding it.

Share your story with us.

New Office, See Wahala!

2010-10-06T15:21:00.003+01:00

So I resumed work as a journalist. Coming to the office on Monday, I was shocked to see so much water flowing from beneath the Wawa bridge along Lagos Ibadan expressway (That long bridge before MFM Prayer City). And as my office is in the vincinity, I had cause to worry. The Turkish International School close by, evacuated all the boarding pupils gradually, using a make-do raft, and the staff followed suit. It was fun to watch some oyinbos pushing sticks down into the soil to pull the raft towards dry land, but it's no longer fun o.

The root of the problem is that Ogun state's dam is so full that failing to release the water can burst the walls or doors and cause serious calamity, so gradually, one by one, the doors of the dam are being opened and the water is trying to chase us out of the office! Communities have been evacuated and the latest news now is that Mile 12 and Ikorodu will be seriously affected because the water is flowing in their direction. How are we supposed to cope with this for the one month that this water problem is supposed to last? Is this welcome Uzezi to journalism? Maybe this is my chance to get one really good story and catch the attention of CNN. Really, news thrive in negative and painful situation and bring awards. Check those who have won awards for reporting war and genocide. This is wawa flood.

It's Happening Again

2010-08-13T11:22:00.003+01:00

I resigned. I am leaving Rockcity and returing to Lagos. Yes, I am returning to Lagos. I am returning to Journalism. Someone told me I am too restless. That I get bored so quickly and change jobs too often. Well, that happens when the job stops being challenging and I look forward to weekends and hate Sunday nights because it brings Monday closer. But then, I know what I am working towards, and where I am going. That is all that matters. Fortunately, the experience and skills acquired from working with an NGO will always be useful to me, so no regrets. Back to journalism. Back to reporting arts and entertainment. Back to getting free novels to review and new music CDs. Back to free invitations to events. Back to seriously pursuing that dream that must live, and the first step towards it, is returning to where I started; the publishing world.

And thankfully, I'll be back to full time blogging and doing blog rounds. I missed this! Yes!

Happy Birthday Uzezi

2010-07-07T13:01:00.002+01:00

I was a year older on Monday. My phone started ringing as early as 12:03am and the messages kept pouring in. I felt very loved by everyone and my family was awesome with love. My colleagues at work all forgot my birthday despite my singing it to them for the past two weeks. So as punishment, after accusing them 30 mins to close of work of forgetting my birthday, I refused to buy them anything. So the money I kept, that I wanted to use to stuff them full of goodies, I will continue keeping till next year.

On a good note, Blogville tenant, Florida, who is my neighbour here in Rockcity, spoilt me silly Monday night. I was really touched.

I'm coming home soon. Back fully to blogville. My internet story in Rockcity is crazy, which is why I am so absent. I miss blogging and miss doing blogrounds and keeping up. But soon, I will return 100%.

Happy Birthday to all July bloggers. Wish you all the best. Fantasy Queen, happy belated birthday. Sorry I didn't drop a note yesterday and I don't ve your number anymore.

ve a nice week all.

SMOOTH OPERATION

2010-05-14T21:57:00.000+01:00

The bus I travelled with last week on my way to Delta, stopped at Ore, their normal stop point for feeding when they are plying the Lagos Benin road. We all alighted from the bus and the driver locked up, each one of us fourteen passengers, parading and buying anything of interest. When we were ready to continue on our journey, we discovered that three passengers were missing. Three of them sat together at the back of the bus and were travelling together. We searched the place, sat and waited for another one hour, but they did not appear. A passenger noticed that a box they carried which was in front of them, wasn’t in the bus, meaning when we all got off the bus, they alighted with the box.

Another passenger said one of the three passengers- a guy, a talkative woman and a lady in her twenties- had said initially that when we arrived Ore, they would alight and return to Lagos, because the person they were going to see in Warri was on his way to Lagos. We all had our opinions, we thought they behaved wrong because they ought to have informed the driver to avoid the confusion we found ourselves in and avoid time wasting, since we still had a long journey before us.

The driver reported to his company supervisor who was stationed were we stopped, and we proceeded. On getting to our final destination, a woman carried her bag and was shocked that it was empty.

I thought the three missing passengers had mistaking taken her small carry bag, thinking it was theirs. But the woman said the bag she was holding was hers, because her face towel was left in the side pocket and the main zip was still locked with her padlock.

The only explanation was the three passengers were thieves, who didn’t mind paying the complete fare from Lagos because they had a mission. They must have had a master key to have robbed someone off her money and Holland wrappers. One of the thieves, the woman among them, was always on the phone with whoever discussing her good news – Yar ‘ Adua’s death. She was evidently happy about it. We all heard that morning at the park. She was apparently very noisy in the bus to distract others, while her colleagues opened bags that were under seats and on the walkway, while some passengers were sleeping. That must be why they took the back seat. That must be why they paid extra for an air conditioned bus. They must believe that their operation will be more productive in the AC bus compared to the ones that are not air conditioned.

Other passengers might have gotten home to discover some things missing from their bags, unlike the woman who discovered at the park because her bag was small and everything in it was taken.

Every time, thieves learn a new method of operating. It is only God that can save us.