HATCHED 3

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It’s been a week since Osas died......committed suicide.  I’ve been steadily having nightmares; the same one every night. In my dream, I am having sex with Chudi and Osas bleeding away, is staring at us but I can’t stop, I keep going.

I am stretched to the limit with apprehension. There is mention of a suicide note but the family are keeping the contents to themselves. I never got close to his brother/manager Henry. I have called him twice this week but he has neither taken my calls nor acknowledged them. I can’t bear it anymore I need to see Chudi. I need to let off some of this tension.  

Chudi is at the perfect age of pleasing a woman. His skills must have now been fine tuned as against the sheer force and frenzy of Osa’s twenty two adrenalin pumping years. I miss Osas and I am worried that my name is going to pop up somewhere soon.  I had been supremely cautious with cleaning up my tracks, I just didn’t figure in emotional tracks or psychological tracks and cracks. 

I quickly find the flower pot with Chudi’s spare keys. He didn’t hesitate a bit when I suggested we meet. Instead he took over the reins of the planning.  I like men eager. When Julius and I first met, I thought he was a gentleman. I realised later that shifting the responsibility of any joint endeavours between he and I to me was just Julius being Julius, noncommittal.  Yup, an individual could be married and non committal. When you live with someone like that, over time, he rewires your emotions. You become a complete mess with suspicions and negative self image as constant companions. He is with me but apart from word of mouth, he doesn’t try very much to validate me or my existence in his life. Sometimes I wish he is deliberately cruel, but he isn’t. Julius just doesn’t care beyond what he desires out of life per time. See my predicament?

HATCHED 2

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If I just sit back and react to Julius, I’ll die before my time.  I have two beautiful children that I should concentrate on. I’m thirty four years old, but I feel fifty. I’m so bloody  tired of the way my life is going. Sometimes I find myself willing my body to fail in some way so that Julius will have no choice but to be with me. Pathetic, how have i become such a mess?

There is that boy again. Ok, well of course I knew he’d be here. I’ve driven by here three times this week. I know he sees me but I never stop. So why am I stopping now? Too late, he is here already. I pop the lock, he gets in.

“Hi”. His voice is like a caress.  He must have seen the hunger in my eyes. He leans forward and kisses me. Really, really kisses me. That is it. This boy is having me here and now in this car, if my phone would stop ringing. The night is quiet, the ringing is jarring.

Sigh.

It is my husband.  Why of all nights does he choose to be home early tonight? Maybe because God doesn’t want me to defile my marriage; hahaha my marriage is already defiled. Not once or twice or even three times, and not by me.  I have to go though. Even though my heart is beating and I would rather do this quick so I don't lose my nerve. I can count on my husband to deprive me of one thing or the other. Or maybe I need time to think it through. Or maybe I am not meant to do this. I try to get Julius to make love to me and he seems ready to go but his southerner member says no. This is not the first time this is happening. He is feeding me the usual "got stuff on my mind" yarns. Wow, my husband cant get it up with me.

These past three weeks have been hectic. I hadn't had much time to think about Osas until last week when I got a text message from an unknown number, requesting for my bb pin, signed Osas. I didn’t even ask how he got my number, I just sent it. I am so sure of what I want from this boy.  Julius has pushed me too far. I need this for my sanity. I need it to bear the sight of my husband. I need it to be a good mother to my children. If I'm going to survive this hell called marriage, I need it.

I like that Osas really seems smitten.  Maybe he needs a friend. We’ve never talked personal but I glean that he seems to hate his famous sibling. Or maybe he wants to see what it’s like with someone older, or......who cares.

He has pinged me every day since then. I am not complaining, the attention keeps me determined and thirsty for him. Like a parched throat needs a long cold drink. A long cold drink from a strapping, gorgeous twenty two year old.

HATCHED

Sigh. 

I switch off as Julius my husband of three years prattles on about some cocktail with the boss and something, something, something. He just got the information today, he knows I’ll never go out looking less than perfect.....I don’t want to hear his rubbish stories, all lies.  He cast a look at his reflection in the mirror as he exits the room with a spring in his step.

Hahaha.

There is a spring in my husband’s step and three years of defeat and loneliness on mine. Oh and neglect, monotony and a husband who is mostly away even when he is physically around. He says it is the kids and my responsibilities as a mum. I try to make him see that the finality of that statement unsettles me but he hears complaining. He used to share my dream or so he said. He said he believed in me. He used to brag about it to his friends. So how is it that three years down the line, I am still running my salon? I’m getting by but I am on the far side of the disgruntled scale. I want to run a spa that is what I spent my youth preparing myself for. I thought they said opportunity comes to those who are prepared. At the time we met, I had concluded arrangements to sign a distributorship deal with a spa care range.

As he leaves, my shoulders slump; I hate him......I think I do.  There is such a wedged between us; each time we try to talk we end up in an altercation. I don’t mind quarrelling as I know that it is healthy but this total acrimony is death warmed and served up on a daily. We are both dreadfully unhappy.  

GOD NA OYIBO 2

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According to "The Historic Implications of the Kebra Nagast" in the book "The Kebra Nagast" edited by Gerald Hausman, the authorized King James Bible, which first appeared in 1611, was  going to include the Kebra Nagast, however, the editors were told, presumably by the clergy - although it came down by royal decree - to excise the chapters which included the Kebra Nagast....".

Why?

My conviction of the rationality and order of the universe is deep and I yearn to understand this denigration of the ancient African religion and wisdom, I ask again God na oyibo?

I have been researching early eighteenth century Yoruba culture for a historic movie script I'm working on (have been for seven years now). In the course of my research, I have come upon a ton of the most fascinating historical evidence of a far more superior people than we have been lead to believe.

As  a child when my imagination sought for adventure in the tale of the discovery of "The dark continent", I was always disappointed.  Most of what I glimmered (from the scanty research material on pre-colonial Africa that was/is available to African children)resonated with the Oyibo being awed by Africa but underwhelmed by the African. 

We were suspicious and hostile to their overtures but were won over by their baubles.....hmmmm.

Cool story, they were so underwhelmed that if it were possible to cart the whole continent back to their land, they would have.

GOD NA OYIBO? 1

This is a re-write of a note I posted on Facebook a couple of years ago. I recently revisited it because I got on that bus again.

Does God have a preference for Caucasians? God na oyibo? See, this really bugs me.
How did my ancestors commune with God before the missionaries?
Were they really the pagan savages the whiteman tells us they were?
Could my ancestors have known God?
Why does Christianity make you doubt that?
Could God have sent the white man to save us or did the white man see a means to exploit us and used it?

I am a convicted Christian and happy to remain so, but I wonder at the denigration of all things pre-colonial African e.g our spirituality.
It is saying a whole lot if we could not have seen the light but for the oyibo man (pun intended).