One For The Road..... concludes

As Vivi struggled to place her bags on the heavy duty trolley, she inwardly cursed the shopaholic streak she had definitely inherited from her mother. She always tried to travel light but those intentions soon went the way of others before them as soon as she sighted a good bargain.

On the upside, she had an eye for good finds, for one of a kind buys and not only did she always turn out smashingly attired, because of her good business sense, she managed to make a pretty penny selling off some of those items to her friends and colleagues back home.

That did not negate the fact that she was going to have a struggle to get the luggage within the approved two pieces of 23kg each. Well, she had a huge handbag that could hide a small child and her hand luggage, don't go there! She would sort this out.


As she struggled with the trolley, she spoke to herself.

"You see yourself! Money no dey ever tay for ua hand anytime wey you come this shopping. Thank God sef say you kwik come yhairport. Before all those nyama nyama omo naija dem go come now begin to dey fight for scale to weigh their load, you go don arrange uaself finish".

Bags weighed, she had two bags at 23kg each, One hand luggage bursting at the seams, her handbag (also bursting at the seams and spilling its contents all over the stainless steel table provided in the weighing room), and various other items that would make up at least a standard 20kg bag scattered all over the room.

One advantage of always arriving Terminal 5 at least 6 hours before her flight, she could organise the madhouse called her luggage, before the hordes of Nigerians, trailing enough luggage to drown the titanic four times over, arrived.

She looked at the excess forlonly, well, the best bet was to buy a box at the airport, make up another 23kg sized box and either plead with a Nigerian carrying a little less load to assist with it or else pay the excess luggage charges. From her experience with Nigerians and airport assistance, she could only but thank God she had not yet checked in online.

Putting everything back into the boxes and onto the trolleys, she set off in search of a box and returned to the weighing room. Still empty, except for a dude in the corner, she began to rearrange her entire luggage.

Na wa o! Only me get four boxes fa! At least, my hand bag don reduce well well, make pessin no go peme insaid yhaircraft say him dey carry load.

But sebi na the money wey I for take buy duty free and jellof small for  inside yeroplane na hin I wan touch insaid take pay dis excess luggage.

No yawa sha, at least, if I reash Abuja, I go sell some of the items, recover ma money well, well. Maybe even sef, I go fit come back again in a mont or two taim, for take restock. Pessin go even fit take this one just start up small business wan taim. Nothing spoil sha. I know say Baba God main still dey my said.

The laughter that exploded from behind her jerked her back to the present and with a start, she realised she had been indulging in her gutter speak out loud, forgetting she had company.

"Good to see my Angel has clay feet after all. We really must stop meeting under awkward circumstances"

"Can we start all over again? Hi, I am Jake and you are..."

Polished accent back in place, poise restored, she stretched out her hand and took the outstretched hand..

"Xaviera"

As she took in his appearance: Tall, broad shouldered, light skinned although obviously of African ancestry, a single diamond earring glittering in one ear, a tattoo she could just make out as "April", snaking out from his tee shirt neckline, a faint yet heady masculine perfume she could not quite place a finger on, full recognition dawned on her..

"It was you in the coffee shop.. and Liverpool street.."

She felt a little twinge of shame at her last behavior, but the business side of her brain started whirring immediately as she looked past him and noticed one solitary, downright expensive but grossly under-packed bag.

Kerching

She immediately went on the charm offensive and turned on her killer one thousand watt smile.

To her chagrin, Jake burst out in loud and raucous laughter and when he recovered, wiping his eyes, said:

"No worry ehn, you be my kain babe! I know wetin you wan ask me and nothing spoil. Ah go carry youa box for you but when the pepper rest, you must to gee me my own share o! As eye wey see"

"No yawa bros. Me ah no know say you too be naija o"

"For life! Even though I was born and brought up in America, served in the US Marines, a veteran of four wars, yet I love my African roots, my Nigerian heritage and since I left the Army, i shuttle between Nigeria and the US, trying to make a mark in Nigeria"

"Interesting. But your bota pijin sha still dey raw o, you never cook am well well yet, but still, I am impressed"

"The honor and pleasure of your acquaintance is all mine, Angel", he winked at her as he proceeded to wheel the luggage to the check in booths.

Unexpectedly, she felt a thrill course through her and immediately, commenced reprimanding herself sotto voce,

"You don start again ba? I no even know wetin dey worry you sef weda na youa head wey no correct abi na youa eye wey too dey see road. You suppose know say all dese American bad boys just dey like orobo and na only heart break go follow you waka comot from dis one. Abeg, thank youa stars say hin wan helep you carry youa load reach Abuja fee oh cee. Any other thing, nor put mind there"!

=======================================================================

Her flight was relaxing and refreshing, made even more so by her new found friend who not only charmed the pants off the hostesses, ensured she had no lack of anything she so much as cast an eye on. At a point, she had to studiously train herself not to look too longingly at any item in the in-flight magazine. When she eventually dozed off, Jake leaned over to drape the blanket over her.

This one is a looker. No rings on her fingers, hope to God she is not in a serious relationship. I would like to keep her all to myself. She has a sharp and quick wit, keen sense of humor and a ready smile. I want her. I want her for keeps.

He had felt her slowly start to relax and the tension she had etched all over her face both encounters in London seemed to slowly ease off the longer they jisted. They had exchanged banters so easily, anyone watching them would have been instantly forgiven for assuming they were long time lovers yet, he could almost touch the reserve on her part.

Standing with her back to the perfume counter at the duty free desk had been a thrilling experience.

He had enjoyed watching her twitch every time the sales executives sampled a perfume around her but yet, she refused to turn round and indulge. He had stood watching her twitch and jump. He could tell she loved perfumes, but she wasn't going to turn around for all the tea in China.

After a few minutes, he had howled with laughter and teased her:

"Yeye"
"Dey worry you"
"Turn na"
"Say I dey fine who na?"
"Turn make you look na, looking is free"
"Ohoh, shebi you know dat one? Abeg o, I dey fear you. I no wan look anything again for this yhairport"

And with that, she held up and shook in his face, the mock croc bag from the Prada stand, the MP3 player from the Sony stand and the truck load of duty free chocolates. All bought by him and handed over to her casually, simply because she had lingered for too long or gazed a tad longingly at the items.

"Ibo woman, you no wan chop youa money! Aka araldite"
"Akwa Ibom man, like governor, like indigene"

They both fell against each other in hysterics and walked towards their boarding gate.

By the time they settled into their seats in the aircraft, they had become fast old timey friends!

As he watched her sleep, his eyes clouded over briefly as he recalled the disappointments he had had in the past.

Two failed marriages, no kids yet. What his friends referred to as "Russian Marriages". Rush in and rush out! Each time, he had been fascinated by the physical. A body shape he liked, a fast talking motor mouth, and only after he had rushed himself through a short courtship and even shorter civil marriage had he begun to feel the first twinges of regret. Each marriage had lasted less than 6 months, now he was too scared to try and so, he had lived the fast life. At some point, the names, faces, shapes, ages, colours had begun to blur and mix. He could no longer tell them apart however had he tried. The ghetto girls and the class girls all began to mix up somewhere around the middle and to be on the safe side, each succeeding girl had been labelled "Babe"!

Easy to remember, no embarrassing mix-ups and most important of all, since there was no emotional attachment, extremely easy to end when his itch had been thoroughly satisfied.

Until that day at the Hammersmith train station. One look at the pretty, comfortably attired yet with a glossy finish around her, young lady sitting crying into her coffee and he knew that this could be it. Somehow, he just knew!

Since then, fate had kept bumping them into each other as if it had a serious point to make and seeing her at the airport again tonight, he knew he had to grab this opportunity fast.

"I want this"

========================================================================

As he rocked her gently in the limo, he smiled slowly. he was taking her back to London, back to the tea shop of their first encounter. He wanted to relieve the moment when he first saw her, wanted to turn that first memory of her sitting and crying into her coffee into a happy one.

In their two year's of courtship, she had firmly insisted she wanted no part in pre marital sex and he had agreed firmly with her.

It was beginning to get jaded anyway - meet girl, have sex with girl, regret girl, dump girl, enjoy euphoria of being a free spirit for a while, meet another girl... the vicious circle kept closing in, the noose kept tightening. He could do with the relief of just being with a pretty lady and getting to know her without sex marching in and sullying the works, Yes Siree!

He had also stayed totally celibate for the length of their courtship!

Xaviera was a handful. He had nicknamed her Zaza because of her full lifestyle, her quick wit, exuberant spirit, comfortable yet glossy fashion sense and her striking intelligence! Every time she opened her mouth, he fell in love anew. She had that rare ability, in a woman, to be forthright without appearing brash and could speak comfortably on any subject under the sun. He could see them, well into their nineties, tottering along beside each other, poking fun at each other and yet still enjoying the bejeezes out of every second they had together.

He could recall their first date together.

After chasing her around Abuja during his spare time and she studiously finding excuses to delay the meeting for the first three months, she had finally consented to a date and he had driven down to the address she provided him with to pick her up.

As she stepped out the door, she took his breath away one more time. He however could not help noticing that something was different about her. While she was still as stunning as ever and looked breathtaking in a dress and heels, she seemed totally ill at ease and the reason became clear when she took her fifth step towards him and took a tumble.

He picked her up and led her to the car, buckled her in and they went off to the Chinese restaurant. As usual, once she got over the initial awkwardness and hurt pride of the undignified fall, being with her was a riot. She was a "laugh a minute" kind of girl and he loved that.

Midway through their meal and getting to know each other, he reached out a hand and covered hers with it

"I want to tell you about a girl I met and fell in love with instantly", he said looking deep into her eyes, "I met her in a coffee shop in London, sobbing and slobbering into her coffee"

As he dodged her slap, he leaned in and continued, "And one thing that endeared me to her each time I met her was her simplicity and comfort in her own skin. There were no gimmicks to her, no secrets hidden between layers of war paint, she was a fresh faced, open beauty and I loved the fact that her style could be described in one word - comfort. Believe me Angel, in this day and age where everything a woman has on her is fake and contrived, a woman comfortable in her own skin is a breath of fresh air to any right thinking man. It is like finding gold on the streets!"

As she looked down, he tipped her chin up with his index finger and planted a kiss on the side of her lips.

"I couldn't resist that Angel, but I think I want you for keeps. Is that possible?"

As she remained silent, he went down on his knees before her, you could almost hear a pin drop in the restaurant as the other diners, realizing what was about to happen slowly dropped their cutlery and began to take in the view.

As he began to build to his climax, to his greatest surprise - and collective disappointment of the eager audience to the unfolding drama- Vivi stood up and looked down at him with scorn on her face:

"You no well o, na wetin dey worry you sef? You just think perhaps I was hanging around just waiting for you to drop out of heaven and propose to me right? See Mr. Jake, you better get your acts together and think straight! You don't know me, aside from the few hours we spent at the airport and you think that is enough grounds for a marriage? You need your head examined"

He watched, mouth open, as she hissed, gave him the much dreaded "eye washing" he had encountered once before in London, flung her napkin on the table, turned her back on him and began to flounce to the door.

Ten steps in and splat, she was flat on her face once again. Darned heels!

Suppressing laughter, he rushed to her, lifted her up and went down on his knees once again. This time however, he carefully eased her feet out of the stilletoes she was wearing, slipped off his comfortable loafers off his feet and onto hers, slung her heels by the strap over his shoulder and offering her the crook off his arm, marched her out the restaurant and into his car.

Somehow, the tripping incident had managed to ease the tension between them. She had recovered her sense of humor and had insisted everyone keep whatever footwear was in their possession at the moment and so, he became the proud owner of a size 39 pair of stilletoes he was sure would only fit around his little finger and slowly, they had commenced the interesting exercise of getting to know each other.

Each had told their own story of past experiences, no holds barred and even though there were no names mentioned, each could feel the other's hurt and both had jointly resolved to see this one through to the end. They were so comfortable with each other, it seemed like they had known each other forever.

And now, here they were, Man and Wife, about to embark on their first trip around the world together. Though she did not know it yet, first stop was London, where he wanted to "meet" his wife for the first time in every sense of the word since that was where the union started. Next stop, the world!

========================================================================

Arrived airport
Boarded the KLM flight to France
France to London next morning
Fall exhausted into the hotel bed and slept the whole day through

Holding her hungrily in his arms, they spent the night talking, re affirming their love and commitment to each other, kissing, exploring, he was glad he waited for this one. Somehow, this seemed so much more sacred and he was convinced that indeed, he had finally met his soul mate.

They got up the next morning and prepared to face the day. As they stepped out and turned towards the train station, he fell a step behind her and watched her move.

My wife! Nwan mii!

He stepped forward, took her hand in his and pulled her closer to him, they moved as one as they walked on.

Arriving Hammersmith, he ushered her into the same coffee shop as when they first met, sat her at the same table and ordered her coffee. Sitting across from her, he commanded:

"Drink up Mrs Udoh, I want to assure myself my wife knows how to down a cup of coffee without making a spectacle of herself. Want to be sure that was not just a coy ploy to attract hunks and that you can be trusted to be out on your own".

He ducked to avoid a playful swat from her and stood up to go and order a more macho drink for himself, She swiveled around in her chair and watched as he walked up to a man by the counter and they playfully began to banter with each other.

They hugged like long lost friends and there was multiple backslapping. She smiled and looked away and so, missed the moment when he pointed towards her and both men began walking back to her.

Her mind went back to the first day they had met and inadvertently, she thought of Chuks. She shook him off with a shrug. Since she had barred his calls after the London debacle, there had not been a single peep out of him. He knew visiting her house would seriously endanger his life and so, had not made an attempt. Sometimes, her mind had drifted back to him and each time she did, she had shrugged him off as bad news, and consigned him to the trashcan of wasted endeavours. Hopefully, their paths would never cross again as long as they lived!

She felt his hand on her shoulder and she turned back and gasped in shock....

...the coffee she was holding fell out of her hands and split unnoticed all over the floor as she gazed from one man to the other..

"Zaza, meet my brother from another mother, Chuks, he lives somewhere in this jungle called Hammersmith with his lovely wife Chelsea and three kids. Matter of fact, the day I met you, I was just coming from his house and he was unavoidably absent, out on an errand or something"

"Chuks, my Angel Zaza, pity you could not attend our wedding in Naija...."

His voice petered out as he realised his lovely wife had tears coursing down her face...

THE END!

Entrepreneurship 101: Give...your time!

A lot of people have jumped on the entrepreneurship bandwagon without pausing to consider the first and probably the most important Key Success Factor for entrepreneurship, YOU!

You need to be available, you need to be willing to give of your time, you need to be there. Lots of people think they can combine a well paying, high (or maybe low) profile job with the task of organising, managing and assuming the risk of a business or enterprise, which at the end of the day is what entrepreneurship is all about.

I say, if you have a vision and decide to convert that vision into reality, quitteth thou thy day job and focuseth thou on entrepreneuring.

Since it is your vision, the chances that another individual, especially a paid employee, will key into and run with that vision the way you would if you were personally involved are very, very low!

Real life Scenario: Two hairdressing salons.

The first, in the heart of town, about thirty minutes drive from my house, the business owner is almost always on ground. Soon as we walk in the door, we are given highly comfortable seats and asked to make our choice of tea, coffee, juice or just plain water. Your children, if any, are quickly provided with juice, toys, cartoons and the ever friendly, charming staff commence to fawn all over you and your child(ren).

The shop owner comes out immediately with a smile on her face and proceeds to interact with you, your child(ren), friends, etc. She does all her best to ensure you are comfortable and has so imbued it in her staff that the few times you arrive while she is not there, you can almost swear any of her girls have her blood running in their veins as they would give you the same matchless attitude.

Price List?

Pedicure - 4,500
Washing and Setting - 1,500
Blow drying - 1,000
Twisting - 6,000
Kids plaiting - 2,500

etc

Hm, Salon 2, my daughter and nanny can stroll down there to get their hair done and be in the salon in under 6 minutes flat. However, every time my daughter goes there, she comes back with a headache and swollen eyeballs from having had her hair pulled and tugged and pushed, all in the name of getting her to "park well". The salon owner is never on ground, you only find two completely disillusioned girls with little or no customers, just lounging around idly and transferring their bad attitude and aggression onto hapless customers.

I walked in yesterday to pick up my daughter and nanny who had gone to make their hair since I was terribly occupied and first thing I noticed, my daughter's eyes were swollen from crying. Second thing, as I write, nobody bothered to even say Good Afternoon to me. Matter of fact, from the look on their faces, you could see my daughter (and I), had come in to disrupt their day long sleeping spree!

Price list?

Washing and setting - 300
Twisting - 1,500
Kids plaiting - 500
Pedicure - 1,200

As we walked away from the salon yesterday, I vowed they were seeing the last of myself and/or my daughter and silently resolved to save myself the heartache of being treated like a nuisance to someone who needs my patronage and go instead to the place where I am treated like a king. As if she read my thoughts, small madam piped up: "Mummy, please can we stop coming to this salon and go to the other one? They do not know how to treat people here".

In spite of their dirt cheap services, it was indeed small wonder they were always customerless with the owner of the Salon a silent, sleeping and invisible partner to the entire transaction.

Working in the bank, I remember a lot of colleagues who had started businesses on the side closing them down after a few months as the businesses "were not doing well" due to lack of supervision. When the cat is away, the mouse play and none plays as hard as mice whose cat is a distracted sole proprietor.

Funds account for themselves, develop legs and walk away from the MD's books.

Staff come to work if and when they please (in these days of mobile telephones, I can be on my bed and lie to you that I am in America and you will never tell the difference).

Customers are treated like a bother, like nuisances that come to disrupt the lounging of the staff, since those staff perforce, do not see the larger picture for what it is.

Etcheteram, etcheteram and so forth....

Seriously, if you want to convert your vision to reality, throw the most important ingredient into the mix, yourself! Do not waste your time and resources enriching other people by setting up businesses for them or granting unadvised and unknown loans to your own detriment - well, what else will you call an employee chopping oga's money if not unadvised and unknown loans.

Make sure you are available. You are the Oga at the top and you do not want any other ogas at the bottom who neither understand your vision nor are willing to do the grunt work ruin that vision for you or make you believe that perhaps you did not catch the vision correctly.

Simply put, what is not monitored does not get done.

Maybe some other day, we will talk about attitude, staffing, customer satisfaction, but if you really are sure you want to pursue your dreams - ermahgerd, repetition alert - then free yourself up to live that dream!


... So, yes, ahem... darsall!

Sheeple...

My personal motto this week:

Fifie: Curing the world's kookie loonies, one individual at a time.

Background: As I approached the Bank ATM at Omega Centre in Abuja, two things bothered me heavily. One was the very long and disorganized queue that snaked onto the road and the second was the scorching sun, threatening to fry anyone who stood outside the little canopy provided.

Since I was with my daughter, I was desperate to ensure the transaction was concluded as quickly as possible. Tried another bank ATM, it was down and so, had to return to the first one with the long queue. 

"Please who is the last person on this queue", I asked? And there was complete and total silence. You could hear crickets chirp. When the silence was almost becoming unbearable (at this point, others were coming behind me and we needed to ensure some form of orderly line up), a young man turned to another and piped up. "But you are the last now, you are following me".

To my greatest surprise, the man started protesting, "I am not the last, I shall never be the last in anything I do, I am not following anybody, I am the head and not the tail, bla, bla, bla!"

I was slowly getting to simmer and I explained to him quietly that I did not care whatever jargon he had been fed from where he was coming from, this was about a queue. If he was the last person on the queue, this would enable us be orderly and know what to anticipate. And he kept spewing so I decided, some issues are better left for practical classes. No be everybody dey understand theory, but show them practical and it sticks.

So, I quietly positioned my big body and waited for my chance. Soon as the last but one finished, I maneuvered my way into the young man's before and proceeded to carry out my transaction. Trust Nigerians, those who knew the order in which they came after me (I had already stopped and ensured those behind me knew their places), were already jostling for their positions. Then the young man proceeded to complain, "I came before him", "I came before her".

People asked him, "But when Madam asked you now, you said you were not the last and you were not following anybody". Aspersions began to be cast on his sanity, his seriousness, the possibilities of his having criminalistic tendencies, I ignored all and just continued with my transactions. 

I said to myself, he WILL use the word last before he gets any transaction done on that ATM today.

Really, I understand about prophetic declarations, speaking to your situations, etc, but like I told the man while I was trying to find my place on the queue, everybody in Nigeria has an issue or the other they are contending with. Don't bring those issues into the public square and start attempting to make a mountain out of a mole hill.

We are people, not sheeple!

Discern. Apply a discerning mind to whatever you are taught and only apply as neccessary.

Well, I had my own declaration for him, seriously pitied the predicament he faced of having to fight his way through the ATM before the hordes of interested participants in the drama, and so did not deliver the parting shot:

Mathew 19:30 - But many who are first will be the last and the last first.

P.S: Blog under construction. Don't want to interfere too much with Solozo's exceedingly good work. Also want to be able to separate my short stories, from random musings, from my weight loss journey and my foodie page. That way, I hope it makes it easier for anyone browsing through the blog to find that which interests them the most.

Celebrating you....

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.".. Theodore Roosevelt, 1910.

A statement buried in a speech made so long ago, but so relevant to our times!

I find in thinking of this speech, that I think of all the strong women of our time who may not have been particularly perfect, but who find themselves in the battlefield of life, daily covered in the dust and grime of striving to hold on to a career and "compete with the men" and in the face of all odds, they come out standing and they come out tall. They might not have been perfect, come to think of it, not all of the women mentioned in the Bible were perfect, but they all had a cause and they stuck to it. They struggled valiantly for the future and in that struggle, did not relent if the results were less than expected, but rather continued to invest their efforts in striving to make the world a better place, one person at a time!

I celebrate you all!

I think of our mothers, investing their time, their efforts, sweating pellets of blood to shape and mold us into a better version of themselves. None wishing that we should be like them, but that we should better their achievements a million fold, cheering us to greater heights and achievements. I recall the fasting embarked upon by my mother to see us emerge better and different, the prayers when we stumble and the hands extended to lift us up even though we fall! The words that wipe away the hurt, the shame, the blow to our egos at having taken a tumble and egging us on to look beyond the present circumstances into their constant assurance of a brighter future. The tears invested can never be repaid, the love expended can never be quantified. We were their goals, their expectations, their greatest achievements and no stone was left unturned in pursuing the realization of those dreams

A mother's labor - evergreen, ever forgiving, ever faithful and never fading.

I celebrate my mum!!

I cast my mind upon our sisters: a strong hold in times of trouble, watching our backs, willing to drop it all in an instant and fight for us. Always ready and forthcoming with words of advice, encouragement and sharing experiences. Sisters that we find, not just from our mother's womb, but in every aspect of life. Sisters in the workplace, sisters in the gym, sisters in the marketplace, sisters just around your neighborhood. Ever ready to rush to your aid, never judgmental but always providing a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on and a napkin to wipe the tears when you are done!

I celebrate my sister, sister-in-laws and those sisters, though not related by blood of marriage, but who have indeed proved themselves worthy to be called sisters!

Aunties add variety to life. Casting my mind back on my life's journey, I remember aunties who provided comfort when I could not run to my mum. Aunties who made life a bit more fun, who were ready with the cuddles, they would withhold from spanking where mothers would tan your hide, yet aunties would not hesitate to gently chide. They provided comfort when mothers were not readily available and confirmed why I needed a mother's instruction and guidance to survive.

Oh how numerous those aunties were! Some I have lost touch with, some I still see regularly, I find some rare gems daily - search deep within you and you will realise that your life story can never be completely told without mentioning an aunt or two.

I celebrate my aunties - you all are the bomb!

Friends, a word so casually flung about, but which needs to be properly applied as misapplication more often than not, leads you into a pack of wolves in sheep's clothing! Ah friends! They understand, they relate, they fight, they make up! They stand by you, they fight with you, they break laws with you but still call you to order when you attempt to overstep bounds! They feel your pain and they fight for what they believe you are worth.

For those friends who have stood the test of time, I can't celebrate you, cos we are in this together! I deeply appreciate you!

The International Women's Day - Appreciate and celebrate all the women who make your world go round!

Incu what?

Is this a very Nigerian thing or does it truly exist in the real sense of it?

A young man, straight from school into the work force, gets a very good job with a reputable oil firm/bank/NGO/school, heck anything, just a good job. Is doing really well for himself and others, has a good relationship with his girlfriend whom he eventually marries. Two years down the line, he begins to experience challenges, maybe life challenges  maybe work related, loses his job and goes through the usual adjustment processes. The wife runs from pillar to post seeking spiritual (and sometimes physical) solution to the man's envisaged problems. Goes to a church where she is informed the husband has a "spirit wife" that is offended with the marriage and hell bent on dealing with him for marrying her.

A young lady, slowly approaching her late forties, holds down a good job, lives real well, contributes to her church, community and society, can afford to take trips abroad for holiday and leisure. No marital prospects on the horizon, maybe having been battered emotionally and psychologically, has also taken the decision to stay away from relationships and live her life the way she wants to live it. If marriage comes, fine and if it doesn't come okay! Her concerned mother, runs helter skelter, seeking a "solution" to her daughter's marital "problems". In seeking that solution, she chances upon a prophet or MOG who calmly informs her that her daughter is married in the marine world "Spirit husband". And his presence in her life will not permit any other man to step in.

A couple, married for over 10 years, both hold down good jobs (or maybe they don't, that is entirely besides the point here), good members of their society, churches and community. Openly loving and generous couple, besotted with each other and outpouring towards society at large. Their challenge - no children yet. They have tried every position known to man, even taken advice from dubious sources, all in a bid to try to have just one child. They have resorted to dry charges (no food, no water fasting for short bursts of three days at a stretch), all to no avail. Eventually, during a church crusade, they are informed that either (or both) of them have spouses in the spirit world (and perhaps children), and need deliverance from these ties in order to progress.

A married man has a near escape from a fatal road accident - Either his wife or him have a spirit spouse who is after their lives

A young and upwardly mobile lady loses all her earthly positions and titles, perhaps after just getting married - There is a spirit husband who is angry with her for getting married

A couple have one child who is hell bent on sending his parents to an early grave - The spirit children are annoyed that in spite of their best efforts at keeping the couple apart, they still got together and had children.

The instances are endless and could go on and on and on..

Worried, especially as I recently had the dubious honor of mediating in a case where the wife was told her husband's "spirit wife" was to blame for all the incidents he had recently passed through, to the extent that the "spirit spouse" was now attacking the innocent woman, trying to ensure she made little or no progress in life for as long as she remained married to her husband, I decided to carry out a bit of sleuthing. (My thoughts and opinions on this particular case comes at the end).

From my searches, this "Spirit Spouse" phenomenon seems to be a largely West African thing, with one or two particular churches latching on to it and declaring every issue a spirit spouse thing. Other upcoming pastors and prophets, seeing how it has worked out well for their forbears, proceed to proliferate and spread the gospel according to spirit husbands and wives. Spirit spouses were birthed in ancient Latin mythology and have slowly spread their tentacles to other parts of the world, but in no other space have they received widespread acceptance than in West Africa, especially our very own Naija.

Someone comes to a Pastor for prayers and deliverance. You are hard pressed to admit that you cannot decipher the root cause of this problem and rather than advice the young couple to continue to wait on God's time, you proceed to dash one or the other of them a "Spirit Spouse". Easy short cut to the resolution of the spiritual problem.

What happened to waiting on God and God's time? I took my time to go through the bible and no where was "Spirit Husband" or "Spirit Wife" mentioned in connection to any of the misfortunes that fell upon the great men in the bible. I believe that as Christians, whether practicing or professing, our standard should be the bible.

Job - Big man, houses, lands, cars, goods on the high seas, children wif swagga, it was reported he lost them all in one day! So, I am convinced, if Job's wife - that restless woman- had gone to a Nigerian prophet, she would have been asked to bring her husband down for deliverance from Spirit Spouse. Job on the other hand, knew that he was being tried and tempted, after all the bible does admonish us to count it all joy when we are faced with diverse temptations as it is the trial of our faith that worketh patience (James 1:3). He waited on God and for God's time and his end was more glorious than the beginning. 

Would that a lot of these pastors, when they see desperate young men seeking an instant solution to life's problems would just advice them to wait on God. Wait! How come we no longer want to wait, both physically and spiritually? We want everything to come to us and at our own times, why? Who even deceives people into believing that life is a smooth journey - I can assure you that even the Dangotes and Otedolas of the world have some pressing or burning issue that can be wished away on a "Spirit spouse".

Abraham and Sarah, they waited to have Isaac. They waited beyond what any human being living or dead would consider realistic. They waited until their due time for visitation and then, they were blessed with the child as promised of God and indeed Abraham became the father of all nations as promised. Nowhere did the bible mention deliverance from a spirit husband or wife before the child came.

Mary Magdalene - no spirit husband

Peter (of "I go a fishing" fame, sword carrying disciple, "I no know this Jesus o") - no spirit wife

Samson - No spirit wife (even though he landed the prize with Delilah - go figure)

Ruth - No Spirit husband

Jonah - No Spirit wife

Joseph - No spirit wife

Racheal - No spirit husband

And on, and on, and on. In fact in the entire bible, there was no spirit spouse mentioned as the root cause of anybody's life challenges. Point of fact, there were demons, confirmed! And they were speedily dispatched. But no where was someone advised to go for deliverance from spirit husband. When I took this up with a prophet and asked him to show me proof in the bible that spirit spouses are the root cause of  problems encountered by individuals, he took me to Mathew 13:25 - But while men slept, his enemies came and sowed wheat among the tares and went away.

Please, can someone with a better understanding explain to me how this relates to Spirit Spouse? He said to me that this was a parable only for the "discerning", and I took him through the bible where every parable was properly explained and in fact in most instances, linked directly to the situation they referred to! Well, I had my own bible reference for the Pastor - 2 Peter 2: 1-3.

Overall, I really think we need to learn to be discerning. People encounter life situations and when you go through a "wilderness experience", learn to wait. Wait and listen to the still small voice. Stop running from pillar to post. Wait for God and He will speak to every situation in your life and at THE APPOINTED TIME, things will work right and your lines will begin to fall into pleasant places.

Now, back to the issue of the young man with "the spirit wife". His flesh wife (abi wetin you go call this one again), was visibly agitated. She wanted no part of this spirit wife especially since she was told that the next target could be her life! She in fact, needed to quickly disassociate herself with the man as she had also started experiencing "difficulties in her business". I had a good laugh on her account, free of charge and told her one thing.

It was obvious to me that there was never any love involved in the marriage, especially on her part, in the first instance. She had just been stringing this man along and was there for the ride. Now when things were no longer as rosy as they used to be, she was conveniently taking the easy way out - blame it on the spirit spouse and bail for your life. I advised her and I strongly believe in this advise, to stand by her man! What he needs during this period of challenge in his life is someone who would empathise, comfort, understand and support. Of course her business will experience difficulties because where before, it was just used to support Madam's fashion leanings and cravings, now it was supporting the entire household (school fees, feeding, house rent, etc).

Like I told her, she could make good use of this opportunity to flee to greener pastures, no guarantee that those pastures would remain evergreen and guess what would happen when her new love begins to experience a set back, *no brainer alert*, well, she would be accused of having a spirit husband since every man she latches herself onto experiences setbacks. How then would she feel?

On the other hand, if the man finds a woman that supports him during the difficulties, stands by him and together nurtures him back to growth, the rat that abandoned the sinking ship would definitely surface sometime in the future and start attempting to claim her place back as the "First and rightful wife".

Please Nigerians, be wise and grow a brain!

One For The Road...

"Do you, Xaviera, take this man, Jacob, to be your lawful wedded husband, to love, honor and cherish him through sickness and in health, through times of happiness and travail, until death do you part? 

"I do"

Vivi's mind drifted off and the rest of the ceremony passed as in a haze. Suddenly, the words she had been waiting all her life for...

"You may now kiss the bride"

As Jake released her waist where he had placed his hand proprietorially, in defiance of anyone's opinions from the very first moment she walked down the aisle to him; as he slowly lifted the veil he had insisted she wear in spite of all her protests; she began a long slow exhale.

She continued exhaling as he lowered his head to hers, she knew he was an extremely passionate man and even though her mind was doing cartwheels, her body remained frozen as she waited, anticipating. Just before his lips made contact, she deeply inhaled and was immediately lost in the passion of the moment.

He ignored the fact that they were in church, in the presence of the priest and tons of friends and well wishers who had gathered to witness this joyous day as he proceeded to titillate her senses with promises of what was to come.

The catcalls and wolf whistles, the riotous applause, people climbing on the pews to get a better look, flashes as everyone suddenly turned paparazzi to capture this one moment of unbridled passion, this open display of love and devotion, all passed unnoticed as firmly but gently, Jake ensured he thoroughly kissed his bride.

As he finally let her go, he clutched her to his chest for one moment, more to shield her as she had streams of tears running down her face and ruining the expertly applied make up, then handing her over to the maid of honor, he turned to the loudest section of the audience where his friends were making their presence felt and noticed and slowly, took a bow. The church erupted and it took the officiating minister over 10 minutes to restore order.

Seizing the moment, Vivi, whose heart kept hammering as though it sought escape from her body had, with the help of her maid of honor, expertly touched up her make up and  managed to maintain and regain some of her trademark composed facade. The joy coursing through her body, radiated on her face and gave her an almost other worldly look.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to introduce to you for the very first time, the newly joined: Mr and Mrs Udoh"

Since he had seen first hand how rambunctious this crowd could be, as he spoke the words, the officiating minister deftly stood aside and began walking backwards to his vestry as the congregation thronged the couple. There were hugs, kisses, tears, backslapping, catcalls... this crowd was happy to be alive and happy to be here and were determined to show it loud and clear.

========================================================================

Photographs - check
Wedding reception - check
Wedding dance - check
Cutting of the cake - check
Feeding each other - check
Presentation of gifts - check
Toasts and speeches - check
Tossing of the bouquet - check
Running off into the stretch limo - check

Aside from the unexpected well of emotions at the church service, Vivi had maintained her composure. There were no more tears and she had luxuriated and enjoyed every moment of her day. Jake had ensured she had a jolly good time. He was never too far from her and even when the surge of friends had somehow carried them apart almost to the different ends of the hall, she could always feel the warmth of his eyes on her. Whenever she made eye contact, he slowly winked. Whenever she was close enough, his hand was always on her waist or the small of her back. He was always leaning in for a kiss here, a peck there. Gawd he loved this lady, he had landed a jackpot all in one and he was determined to let the whole world know.

Once in the limo, she had quickly changed into her get away clothes and relaxed to await the surprise Jake had kept insinuating was in stock for her today.

Suddenly, he was on his knees in front of her, took both of her hands in his and looked into her eyes.

"My Love, My wife! Today, you have made me the happiest man in the entire universe. You are for me a dream come true, all my life I have prayed and hoped for a woman just like you. I still don't know what I have done to deserve you at the point of almost giving up, but I know that I am devoted to making everyday worth the while for as long as we both shall live. There will be good days and bad, there will be ups and downs, we may not always agree, but I promise, I will never let you go. You are my heartbeat and for as long as my heart beats, I promise to stay true to you!"

As the tears filled her eyes, he pulled himself into the seat beside her, clutched her close to him and rocked her gently back and forth.

As Vivi's mind traveled into the past, just two short years ago, she smiled at their first encounter and how she had almost let this one go...

========================================================================

As Vivi nursed a steaming cup of hot coffee at the Hammersmith Station, she was oblivious to the fact that tears were coursing down her face. In part due to the cold, in part due to the shock she had just experienced, she was entirely numb and unfeeling.

She had heard him calling her as she walked briskly down Iffley Road and had broken into a light jog. Rather than go through the Main Street, she had darted under the bridge to the King's mall and promptly gotten herself mixed up among the throng of shoppers flocking in and out of the malls, all the while, keeping a wary eye out for him.

She had traveled all the way from Nigeria to meet Chuks,well, maybe not just to meet him, but since she was around and had added on a few days from her vacation to her trainingschedule, she had decided to track him down. Somehow, in the past three months, he had grown more and more distant, ignoring her calls and messages, showing up once in a while with a mouth full of excuses and hell bent on getting one thing and one thing only. It had been frustrating and she had run a gamut of emotions but the worst part for her had been the mind games.

Whenever he remembered to call her or had taken one of her calls, he would pick offence at the slightest provocation, claim an overflow of emotions and drop the phone on her, pleading he needed time to sort his riotous emotions out. Her head would jump in and immediately begin to advise her on how to effectively be the bigger person and end the relationship, but her heart, o treacherous heart, would convince her to just hang in there and understand with "all he was going through".

He had suddenly shown up one day and announced that he needed to get back to London to "sort out a few things". As usual, he had finagled a fast fuck out of her on her living room rug (that was another thing that bothered her about their relationship, he could never be bothered to woo her properly or even lead her into the bedroom). It was always "wham-bam", he would help her up from the rug, plant a kiss on her forehead, zip up and would be gone like a flash in the dark until whenever he felt the urge for her again.

This time, he was even faster than usual and went mechanically about his business, not even bothering or noticing if she was ready, his mind obviously elsewhere. Done, he stood up, zipped up and focused on his Blackberry, responding furiously as the phone pinged away! After a few minutes, she had rolled over, stood up, adjusted her dress and moved into the adjoining bedroom where she sat with her head in her palms, wondering what had just happened.

She was jolted back to the present by his sudden appearance in the room. He dropped a kiss on her forehead, pulled her to her feet, hugged her tight and requested she opened the door to let him out. She had moved like a zombie and after he left, dropped back to the bed and lay cuddled up in the fetal position until she dropped into an uneasy sleep.

Well, here she was in London. He had been a bit more frequent with his calls since arriving London, but evaded any personal questions and got off the line as quickly as he possibly could. She was not one to leave any stone un turned and had come prepared to talk this relationship through and map out a way forward. What she was not prepared for was what she saw when she knocked on the door...

She had vaguely remembered him mention Number 75 Iffley Road while on a telephone conversation with a friend and had purposely not informed him she would be in London. Two days and she was done with the training. At six am on Friday morning, she steeled herself and set off for Hammersmith, an area she was slightly familiar with.

As she hit the knocker twice on the door, she heard the scurry of little feet and then a soft thump on the door at about shin height  How cute, she thought, he has a dog. As she knocked again, the door opened and she stared into the bluest pair of eyes she had ever come across in the universe.

"Sorry," the lady muttered breathlessly, "Adrian is always quick to get the door".

She looked down and noticed a dark skinned boy of about two with extremely curly hair, happily nattering away.

As she looked up at the white woman staring questioningly back at her, she saw a pair of slipper clad feet descending the staircase, bringing into view Chuks!

"Hey Chels, who is....." his voice spluttered into nothingness as he saw her.

She could see in the hallway, framed pictures of him and Chelsea, each alone, together, with three kids the eldest not more than six. Obviously, he was home.

Impulsively, she said the first thing that came into her mind, "Does Mr. Blenkinsop stay here?"

"Oh no Darling, you have a wrong address" replied Chelsea while Chuks stood with his mouth open.

"Oh, my bad. Sorry for the bother".

She pivoted on her heels and turned back up Iffley road and ten minutes later, heard him call out her name.

She ran.

As she recollected her thoughts, she saw a hand holding out an handkerchief to her:

"Go on Angel, a pretty lady like you should not be sitting alone crying, whatever the circumstances"

She looked into the eyes of the man standing in front of her. Tall, light skinned (but obviously African), a sole diamond glittered in his ear. As he came into focus and placed the handkerchief in her hand, she jerked back and split some of the coffee down her coat. She snatched the handkerchief and wiping herself down, turned for the door.

"Hey...!"

She ignored him and walked briskly down into the train station, ignoring the call from behind her. As she walked down the steps, her train pulled into the station and she walked through the nearest door and through several coaches before settling in one that was almost full to capacity. She needed the distraction of other commuters to drown out the privacy of her thoughts.

========================================================================

Sunday morning, she got up bright and early and began to plan her day.

Having collapsed into bed on Friday and remained there until today, she thought a little bit of retail therapy could serve to soothe her frazzled nerves and prepared herself for the trip to the Liverpool street market.

As usual, when she needed to clear her head, she thought in gutter pidgin.

"Today na to chop all the money wey dey my hand o. After that yeye skrobbo don chop everytin wey de my body finish. Useless obote gorilla  Chai, na wa for dis kain life o! How person wey get wife and many many pikin dem go dey lie put lef', rait and center. Im dey even ma wan mak I introduce am gee all my friends, my family, everybodi. If hin see me wit man, him go dey form annoyance. Ewu gambia"

She walked up to the mirror and looked at herself critically, pointing a finger at herself, she continued...

"Your mates na goat, you, you be ewu. Original ewu awusa, proper ewu gambia. So na so any man wey come near you, you go de gee am chop ba? See wetin u do urself? You even kukuma sef carry youa dead bodi come meet man all the way for ofesi, man wey no send you. You better learn youa lesson now, useless old woman"

Her thoughts swung back to Chuks and she began to curse him out roundly. She had a mouth like a drunken sailor, but only her closest friends knew about that side of her. To everyone else, she presented the highly polished public veneer, the cool lady exterior, the classy and high class genteel persona.

========================================================================

As she strolled down Petticoat Lane some hours later, her mind more settled now, she took in the sights and sounds of the market.

"One Pound, Two Pounds, Three Pounds look around"

"Anyone is a five pounds, anyone is a five pounds"

"Hot roasted chestnuts, peanuts, all nuts, you want nuts? "

The sing song call of the traders, the jostling of the patrons (she had her sling back bag close to her chest and underneath her sweater), the scrambles for bargains, the ever vigilant cops, the hordes and hordes of Nigerians dragging huge boxes behind them, she did not notice when she brushed against someone until the "brushee" reached out his arm and caught her lightly by the sleeve.

"Angel?"

She stared up into a pair of dreamy eyes. He was tall, light skinned (although he was obviously African) and a single diamond glittered in his ear. Broad chested, as her eyes skimmed quickly over his face and body, trying desperately to place him, she noticed the tail end of a tattoo on his neck, sneaking out from the end of his jacket. It looked like a tail, or a snake, or a letter. She sensed rather than smelt the perfume on him and though she could not readily place it, knew it must be expensive.

He spoke in a dreamy American accent, in a soft voice guaranteed to make a woman go weak in the knees...

"Fancy meeting you here Angel"

"Huh?"

"Yeah, of all the people I expected to bump into on Petticoat Lane, you were the least of them. Gosh, it is quite good seeing you again..."

She snatched her sleeve out of his grasp and proceeded to give him her classic pulverizing look. Quick as a flash, her face static, her eyeballs moved along the length of his body. Up, down, up, down, up, down in rapid succession! She followed it up with a long drawn out hiss

"Mtchewwwwwwwwwww"

As he felt the heat and resentment pouring out from her and the scorching eyes carving a path through his body as they seriously "eyed" him, he froze and the words died out on his lips. Hands still stretched out, he could not help but feel something rise in him as the vixen done with the eye washing, proceeded to hiss in unexpected Nigerian gutter style, turned and matched away. Her curvaceous but evenly distributed size 18, arresting his gaze until she disappeared around the corner.

"Damn!" He ran his hand over his head and down around his lips. Rubbing both hands together, he looked around, let out a soft whistle and said, almost to himself... "I want that!"



TO BE CONTINUED...... [maybe :-)]