Stories that touch.


Don't wear rose coloured glasses, love is not blind!

 
OLAMIDE'S STORY.

The snipping sound of the scissors brought me
back to reality, as bits and chumps of my hair fell on my lap. My mind drifted towards you. We talked about this once, that day mazi ikechukwu's widow
started her mourning cry, screaming at the top of her voice to notify the whole community of the beginning of her mourning period. I was so frightened, I would face the same fate being from the Yoruba tribe. Hasn't statistics shown that a woman has a longer life span in comparison to man.

You laughed it off saying only God can determine who will go first, "put your mind to rest Olamide, my side of the family is civilized"

I am currently watching your so called civilized family members standing above me with a large silver scissors with a show of false sympathy, giving speeches like "It's all to appease your late husband's spirit" they all said.

You hear that Ugo! your spirit accepts what your physical being does not. I don't know what to believe anymore. The Disqualified truth you told me or your spirit which your ancestors of seers converse with.

Ibieye's TALE

My mother warned me this was going to happen! I didn't listen, all I knew was the love we shared. Her voice increased in decibels, gave off reverberating shouts of "They will tear you apart when he finally makes you his wife" filled the compound. How could she not be happy for me her last child? Oh! I just confirmed the hidden hate I knew she felt for me her mistake of a child! Her back up plan!!

Then the day came when "Dan Allah! You have to cover yourself as a proper Alhaja" The only problem I had was I wasn't an Alhaja. I had just married a cute, Muslim boy. My sweet Ibrahim had promised me on bended knee at the junction of the famous girls hostel Moremi hall at UNILAG that he will never cover me up in all that thick. Black. Muslin.

Now every Friday he sings it to me like a national anthem, it's all for the sake of respect for religion Ibieye, if you don't do it my colleagues and family will think me a lesser man who is unable to control his woman.

Hmm I wonder, is it religion or your ego that you are after.

How soon my love have you forgotten all those promises you made. "You can go to any church you want! Our children will choose their religion" I am remembering all this as i rise up and go down shouting Allah Akbar in your family mosque. My sister would be intrigued, I now bear Ibieye Abubaker, remind me didn't she pour pepper water on your white jalabiya the day you asked my hand in marriage.

Tunde's story.

You kept on saying "I am not addicted. I swear. Once you move in I will stop all this habits"  Alero î forgot the definition of habit. I trusted you, listened to you and now three years into this marriage I have aged 20 years. I no longer recognise myself. I am drowning in all your vomit of drunkenness. I should have paid more attention to those marriage counseling they held at church after service every Sunday. Habits you called it. You called it an habit, she is a lady, she just drinks for fun, she will stop when we tie the knot. Ahhh, I made all these excuses for you. I walked blindly into this marriage and now I am stuck baring this burden.

      Let's not be deceived, love is not blind, open your ears and heart to the words of wisdom and experience of these three people. 

Don't be a victim! Avoid stories that touch.

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