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Showing posts with label Short Stories - page 2. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short Stories - page 2. Show all posts

Who says the maid can't have what 'madam' is having?!

~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, February 24, 2019.

I've known Ado for decades and his insatiable appetite for sex never fails to amaze me. He's been married and has managed to stay married for close to 20years. A few years into his marriage, he rushed into my office, bursting with excitement. "I had the most amazing sex of my life yesterday", he told me as soon as we were alone. His wife was pregnant with their second child and I wondered how the poor woman could have performed the feat for which he was now proud. "Not with my wife of course," he said, looking at me as if I were some sort of a clod, "with a woman I ran into at a party. You should see her; gorgeous and eager to make friends, she'd come to the party with two of her friends but seemed to e really interested n what I had to say. I told her I was married and she said she was too - and a mother of three. So where was her husband? I didn't come with my wife either and I wasn't really interested in what her husband looked like - all I wanted was her. 

"When I told her I would love us to meet up sometime, she said she was an events planner, she was planning a wedding reception that weekend on the grounds of a posh hotel and was saying in one of the rooms to make sure things went according to plan. I could look in if I felt like it. We exchanged phone numbers and I couldn't sleep for the anxiety. Come the Friday she said she would check into the hotel I told my wife I was off to a stag night party; it was the safest excuse I could give her. If I didn't strike gold, I could come home early. If I did I would have this ready story for I was too drunk to drive. My wife's pregnancy was advanced an she couldn't be bothered what I did as long as I left her to rest. This lady's hotel room reeked of seduction.

"I knew I'd really got lucky. She was so relaxed about the whole thing, she made our being alone in a room for the first time feel like the most natural thing in the world. We had a few drinks and some snacks she'd brought from home. Then spent the next few hours having the most fantastic sex. I hadn't had sex with my pregnant wife for a long time that I wasted no time at all, but she was really matured about it as we both pleasured each other until I felt ready again.

"It was better than winning the jackpot as we did it in positions I didn't even know existed. I never knew sex could be so intoxicating. She never took her hands off me throughout the night and when I finally got home in the early hours, I was so knackered that I didn't wake up until mid-day. My poor wife thought I was nursing a hangover. I relieved the sex I just had over and over again and became so randy that I pounced my wife. Poor thing! She must have missed sex too as she fell grateful into my arms. But it was this new woman I thought of while it lasted. I longed to see her body under mine once again.

Does your foreplay turn your wife off?

Written by Bunmi Sofola
~Vanguard Nigeria. SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2018.

Ike was feeling damned pleased with himself. As he parked the car, he whistled a cheerful tune,
gathered the 'treat' he'd brought for his family and trotted to his flat.

Amidst squeals of welcome from his kids, he dolled out his presents; meat pies and doughnuts for the kids, a peppered quarter chicken for his wife, Remi and of course, the same piece of chicken for himself too. Remi sighed. She knew what would follow.

She would be expected to fry chips to go along with the 'treats" so that she would spend less time on the family dinner. Her husband would then wash his chicken and chips down with a big bottle of stout and she would be expected to do the same with a small stout of her own.

The next stage would be the bedroom. Naturally, Ike would have had a shower and as soon as Remi got into bed he would pounce on her. "It is nice to feel wanted by your husband but sex should not be a routine", Remi sighed. "Ike would deftly put out the light, reach for my nipples and kneed them in turn and expect me to be instantly aroused. But it is always irritating. I hate my nipples to be twiddled and if my husband wants sex, I want to be flattered by being asked.

"On days when I'm not in the mood and I tell him so, he looks so wounded that I feel guilty. Unfortunately, I seldom initiate sex. When I do, it is the same hasty preamble before he goes into the real thing. After doing it the predictable way all these years, sex with my husband has become a necessary evil. I have to grimace and bear it".

Unfortunately, a lot of men believe that as long as you can make a go of love-making for say 10 to 15 minutes non-stop, you are a super stud. Recounting a recent experience where he met a married legal practitioner, at a seminar, Bernard, another lawyer who delivered a paper said: "Don't let me bore you with details. The chemistry when we met, was right and we both found ourselves in bed in her hotel room on her own turf so to speak. She was the most liberated woman I'd ever seen. I switched off the bed side light so that only the TV light was on and we made what I thought was beautiful love".

"You make love beautifully," she said and I glowed only for her to crash my ego by adding "for yourself. Now make love for me". I looked at her a bit puzzled. "You did not say a word about how beautiful you thought my body was or how tantalizing you found parts of my body. Do you read the Bible often? You've read the Songs of Solomon and the bit about `How beautiful are thy breasts, like twin doves?. If a man could be as romantic as that all those centuries back, then why are you making love mechanically? Is that how you make love to your wife?"

When your teenage girl turns a monster you hardly recognise

Written by Bunmi Sofola
~Vanguard Nigeria. SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 2018.

Will every parent ever be able to take the trauma of their adolescent girl's climb to puberty in their stride?  One minute she's in braids and school uniform, the next she's dressed and acting like a prospective Nollywood Star!. Amarachi, a typical modern day mum of two teenage girls and a grown up son prided herself on being a well-grounded mum and brooked no nonsense from her kids.  "I might have been born with the so-called proverbial silver-spoon but my mum never hesitated in thumping us whenever we got out of line", she said. "We were all a bit afraid of her and tried as much as possible not to give her the opportunity to put a lump of disapproval on our scalps through her knuckles.

"Thanks to her, I thought I was as stern with our kids until a few weeks ago when I opened my laptop to discover that Joyce my last child had inadvertently left her Fackbook and other social networking sites logged on.  Unbeknown to her, I was able to see right in front of me everything she and her friends had written in recent weeks.  It's happened before whenever she's failed to subscribe to her I-Phone and had to use my laptop - affording me the rare opportunity to have surreptitious check on her increasing private adolescent world.

"Only things were different this time.  In place of the usual banter, peppered with infuriating teenage acronyms, was a stream of comments, crystal clear in their meaning. They were vicious and cruel observations attacking Joyce for what she'd worn on her recent 16th birthday party.

"Some of the girls told her, in no uncertain terms that she'd dressed like a `slut, a `tart with no self-respect' and that her parents must be ashamed to have a daughter who `looked like a prostitute'.  The attacks on my daughter were part of a new trend known as `slut shaming' fuelled by blogging websites which teenagers post vicious criticisms online, targeting peers they deem to be dressing too provocative or wearing too much make-up.

"I was shocked and deeply upset to see my daughter being bullied like this - yet deep down, I couldn't help feeling her accusers had a point. For on the day of her `6th birthday, Joyce had dressed too provocatively. The outfit she'd chosen to wear, without my consent, had utterly floored me. I should have seen this coming though. last year, she'd transformed almost overnight from a little girl into a tall adolescent with impressive boobs and an amazing figure - which she seems hell-bent on exposing as much as possible. As a result, it's practically impossible for her to leave the house whenever she's on holidays without a fierce alteration. I would yell: `You're not going out dressed like that, put more clothes on!' She would stomp upstairs to change, before shoving the offending outfit into her bag - no doubt to put back on the moment I've vanished from sight.

Good-time girl with a heart of gold!

Diary of a Divorced City Girl
~Vanguard Nigeria. SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 2018.

Faith was having a private dinner at a push restaurant with her current sugar-daddy when she spotted her mum's best friend at the reception.  "It was too late for me to avoid her not noticing me", Faith said. "Aunty May as we all called her is my Mum\s very good friend and my `partner' is one of her friends' husband.  I'd actually met him at her place when they had a house-warming party. I could always tell a bored, rich old man from a distant and I made a bee-line for him.
"Mike, as he later introduced himself was a very successful businessman and he was flattered to be chatted up by me. I was a fresh graduate but looking for a salaried job was the furtherest thing on my mind. Even as an undergraduate, I'd built a very impressive client¨le of men who found my type of beauty alluring. I was tall, very light-skinned - not bleached with boobs to die for. And I was a good girl.  Largely because of the solid moral grounding I got from my Muslim father, who sadly passed away five years ago, and my hospital matron mother.

"It was my close friend, Angela at the university who introduced me to this life of leisure I love so much.  She got drunk one night and blurted out something as soon as she came through the door of the room we shared.  `Faith, promise me you won't tell a soul but I've got something to tell you. I've been dying to tell you for months now'.  `What is it?'  I quizzed her. `Have you got a new boyfriend?' `Humph, sort of", she giggled mischievously.  `I've actually got PLENTY of boyfriends and they pay me well for services rendered!' I was gob smacked. `Are you tell me you're a prostitute?'

"It turns out there is this lively house she visits from time to time. It is owned by a glamorous socialite who'd hosted a lot of men since her husband passed away decades ago", even whilst her husband was alive, she'd made little or no efforts to hide her escapades. As she and her `gang' grew older, they encouraged younger single girls to visit so the men would be spoilt for choice.  `I's easy', Angela told me.  `As long as you like sex, it's a breeze. You should give it a go' While the thought first repulsed me, I couldn't get the idea out of my head. Could I actually do it? What would Mum say'  In the end I did take the plunge and the money along with the contacts were so intoxicating I never looked back.

What has shame got to do with a raging libido?

Diary of a Divorced City Girl
~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, August 19, 2018

Why are today's young women so carried away with having fun and experimenting with sex that they scarcely give a thought to getting married?  Those that are lucky to walk down the aisle do it haphazardly. The slightest marital problems they have, their bags are packed, ready to look for greener pastures by eagerly joining their footloose and fancy free friends. So, once in a while, friends get together looking for ways to drag their unwilling daughters down the aisle – no matter how short-lived such relationship turn out to be.
So when Lillian's daughter, Jessica finally came home after her live in lover of three years jilted her to get married to a white woman, we were really sympathetic.  "According to this creep of a guy,Jessica stole him from one of her good friends", Lillian told us.  "He'd had a free ride with the friend, then latched on to Jessica before realising Nigerian girls are dogs. His safest bet was to get married to a starry-eyed British woman who saw him as a stud to die for!  When I saw how devastated Jessica was, I felt for her and was afraid she might do something foolish. So, I convinced her to relocate so she could find a suitor. The word is now our girls. Jessica is now 28 and must find a suitor, come hook or crook!".

You couldn't just have a man on tap, I told her, reminding her of all her match making capers that hit a brick wall. But a couple of months later, Juwon, one of my good friends came calling, grumbling about a nephew well in his 30s and still single.  "All the wife materials he's met, he'd used them for sex", she moaned.  "He's my sister's only child and she's very broody - she wants grandchildren".

A light suddenly went on in my head. Why not match-make this man with Jessica?  The more we discussed the prospect, the more excited Juwon was. When I later called Lillian, she said she knew Jessica's taste and would want to give Adams the once-over before she linked him up with her daughter. Fair enough.

"That Adams of yours is a real cad", Lillian said, months after. I was at hers, having a relaxed evening but her tone of voice made me sit up.  "I don't think Juwon told him what the set up was. When he came to the house, he was confident and cheeky - not the introverted man Juwon painted him to be. When we finally got to why he was really at my place, his face fell.  `I thought you fancied me, he protested.  `My auntie merely told me you needed a favour, I thought ...' `No, no, no' I told him.  `Nothing of that sort must even cross your mind.  I'll arrange for you to meet my daughter as soon as possible'.  And that was what I did.  He looked a bit older than I thought as we talked.

Take a second look at your husband while thinking of having an affair

By Bunmi Sofola
~Vanguard Nigeria. Saturday, July 21, 2018

"MOST times, lying with my husband watching him sleep on his back, beer belly rising and falling with each snore, he doesn't look appetizing in the least especially with his treble chin and bald head. I am starting to find him repulsive…." Melisa looked so forlorn as she told me about the state of her marriage that I had to laugh.

She wasn't amused. I reminded her they'd just been married 12 years and it was a bit early for her to start being resentful, especially when she has two adorable kids and a well heeled husband who gave her and the children virtually everything they wanted. "But what about meaningful sex? Seun was fit and energetic when we got married with a body to die for.

Now he's flabby and unattractive. His weight had more than doubled; the only thing that hasn't changed is his personality. He's still kind and loving with a good sense of humour. Trouble is, I just don't fancy him any more. I want rippling muscles-not rippling fat!"

I warned her to be extremely careful. After escaping the seven year-itch, maybe, 12 years is when her marriage should have started showing signs of being in a rut-she should strive for both of them to get out of it. "I don't know about Seun," she said simply, "but I'm trying my best to do just that. As a matter of fact, I've just met someone at work. He is a technician we briefly used. Though he is single, he knows he's nothing but a bit-on-the side. And he's so sexy.

Instead of the usual boxers, he wears clinging lycra cycling shorts which makes him look deeply sexy. It is easy to get a way to meet him as Seun works really late now he's been promoted to management level. Don't get me wrong, I love Seun, but sex with Ephraim is like an icing on a cake." I told her she was treading on dangerous grounds but she just laughed in my face.

Months later, she came running back to me, "It is Seun" she said, a bit frightened, "it is as if he suspects I'm having an affair. Last night, he came outright to ask why we never seem to make love any more. That 1 couldn't get away quickly enough whenever he touched me.

She did what she had to do to give her kids a better life!

Diary of a Divorced City Girl
~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, July 15, 2018.

WOULD you do anything to make your kids happy – however sordid you believe such things to be? A few years ago, Denike, a teaching assistant at a private primary school resigned and started a sort of petty trading. "We had the front two rooms in the house we moved to after Dele, my husband, was medically discharged from the armed forces and the little money he had ran out", she explained.
"I started with running a small canteen in front of the house but the landlord kicked against it because of the fire hazard it created. Then I started retail trading but the profits weren't much to look after us all – four children in total. I felt guilty every time I had to tell my children we couldn't afford little treats they'd taken for granted. Out of frustration, I confided in a former colleague at the school. She earned the same salary I did but had told me she also had a part-time job that paid fairly well. I wanted her to find out if there was a chance of my being employed.

"She didn't even bat an eyelid before explaining what she did. She worked at a private club that offered massages to members. It was right in the middle of town and was always busy. She could take me there if I was keen. Of course there was a catch. As well as massaging the clients, I would have to provide extras too. After giving it a thought, I said I would do anything but full sex. I would be okay with a bit of touching, but I couldn't go that far. It still didn't stop me from being nervous though. I remember my first time with a man – massaging his back, hardly knowing what to do as he tried to slip his hand up my skirt. He then pleasured himself on me. I felt dirty and violated.

"I was screaming inside. I just wanted to run from that room, go home and never came back. Then I remembered the toys my kids wanted that Christmas. I imagined their eyes lighting up as I handed them their presents on their wish list. When the man had finished, I cleaned up, took the cash from him as he left. I was a bit relieved it was ready cash. Pure profit so to speak. It was an encouraging start.

"Over the next few months, I saw more men. Some just wanted a massage and a fondle, others were after more. I still didn't feel comfortable enough to have sex with a stranger though. But the more I worked the more relaxed I was about the idea. My colleague assured me what 1 was earning were peanuts compared to what 1 would get if I went the whole way. And about three months after starting, I was finally ready to take the plunge. At least, I thought I was. That morning, I was a wreck. I couldn't eat much. Every time I thought about a stranger on top of me, I broke out in a cold sweat.

She met her husband's love-child at her son's school!

By Bunmi Sofola
~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, May 27, 2018.

As Maureen's six-year-old son Ben, waved a letter from his school at his mum, she eagerly opened it to find out why her son was so excited. Her son came first in arts and his parents were invited to the end-of-year presentation of prizes. "Your child's first recognition of their academic prowess is supposed to be a happy moment, an unforgettable milestone in their life. But I'll certainly never forget my son, Ben's first," recalled Maureen. "Because it was the day I found out the truth about Segun my husband.

"It started with such excitement. Ben was so happy getting on his smart uniform. He looked really grown-up and I was really proud of him. The school had organised a few photographers parents could patronise and we had a few shots of our happy moment. Ben was all over the place pointing out a few of his classmates and friends when another little girl, the same age as Ben, came running over from the other side of the assembly hall, grabbed hold of Segun's leg in a hug and said; 'Daddy, daddy!' I laughed and started peeling this little girl off my husband.

"Bending slightly, I said to her: 'I'm sorry darling, but I think you've got the wrong daddy!' She looked back at me with confusion in her eyes and said, "No, he's my daddy. But he no longer comes to see me and my mummy.' I looked from her to Segun and back. Why wasn't he putting the little girl straight? And why did he look so guilty? I glanced around to see if I could see the girl's parents anywhere. Instead, I spotted a woman across the hall looking at us with a mixture of concern and anger. I looked back at my husband. 'What's going on?' I asked him angrily."

Suddenly, the penny dropped. This poor girl was Segun's daughter. But how? There was no time for an explanation, the presentations were about to start. At the end of it, the parents were allowed to stay a while with the children in their classrooms. I was in a state of bewilderment. I could see the girl and her mother through the window in the classroom next to us. I could barely take my eyes off them. I didn't hear a word of the teacher's address to Ben's class. I could barely speak when it was time to leave.

Five ways to cope with a partner who does not apologise

Written by Tunde Ajaja
~ Punch Nigeria. Sunday, April 29, 2018.

At 45 and 40 respectively, Mr. James Koledowo and his wife, Simi, have experienced the good, the bad and the ugly in their near four years of marriage.

Seen by many in their church and neighbourhood as a happily married couple, Simi admitted that truly they had had exciting moments, but that when it comes to resolving their differences, she could count on her five fingers how many times her husband had apologised to her, even when he was evidently the one at fault.

"Not that he had never offended me and not that he didn't know he was wrong at those times, but he just felt a man should not be the one apologising, thinking it was degrading for a man to do that," she said in a recent interaction with Saturday PUNCH.

From the unprintable things he says anytime they had quarrel to doing certain things a reasonable man should not do to his wife and causing her emotional distress, Simi said she still doesn't understand why he finds it difficult to admit that he could be wrong and then "do the needful" - apologise.

"That is one thing that has consistently moved me to tears in this marriage," she said. "I don't know if it is pride, or he feels he's too perfect to be wrong or he feels admitting he's wrong is a sign of weakness. But I've learnt to ignore him, and when I can't stomach it, I just walk away because sometimes, I just feel like screaming and doing something silly."

Notably, in any human relationship, especially marriage, disagreement somewhat seems inevitable, and this underscores why marriage counsellors stress the need for couples to learn to say 'sorry'. They said refusal to say it could make issues degenerate into serious conflict. And according to findings, women apologise more frequently than men.

But why do some people find it difficult to say sorry? A psychologist, Prof. Oni Fagboungbe, said it is an ego problem. He explained that psychologically, such people feel their ego would be deflated when they apologise and that when their ego is deflated, it brings shame. Thus, they don't apologise so as not to look cheap before their spouses.

Speaking on how they come about such habit, he said it could be the personality makeup of the person, as they could have learnt that while growing up and that some inherit the trait that predisposes them to such.

Bizzare things some women do for love

~The SUN Nigeria. Sunday, April 29, 2018.

This is the most chilling message I have ever received via email. Someone sent it to me, highlighting how he abused, humiliated and tormented a lady who showed him nothing but love and loyalty.

The message reads: “I met her when she was 24 years old and she fell in love with me. She was gainfully employed. I am four years older than her and I also work.

She never turns down any of my requests, including anal sex even when she can’t stand the pain, neither does she argue with me. She would rather cry or be withdrawn. With that attitude, I saw her as a weak woman who has no mind of her own. Everything I said was right.

She has her own apartment and only visits me when I invite her. She does all my laundry and cleaning, including ironing my clothes on weekends. I am mostly nice when I want her to do my chores or have sex with her, after then, I treat her like garbage.

To her, I was her man, but to me, she was just one of those girls I keep around to help tidy my house and quench my sexual urge for free.

She never asks me for money in whatever guise, though I try to buy her gifts sometimes. Even when I give her money for grocery, I know she spends more of her money in the market and she makes all kinds of soups for me. She is such a fantastic cook and that was the reason I kept her around.

Could you be better friends after your divorce?

Written by Bunmi Sofola
~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, January 14, 2018.

THE major reason married couples divorce is that they couldn't stand each other when they were married. Most marriages could be acrimonious, but there are some couples who got along better now they don't have the responsibilities that committed relationships bring. Mandy, 42 and Frank 39 swore they've forged a close friendship, even though Frank walked out on her when their second daughter was only four.

"I was distraught when Frank left me four years ago," confessed Mandy. "I had recently suffered a miscarriage and was really depressed. On top of which the doctors had really advised 1 shouldn't try for another baby at my age"'. That made me feel really old and emphasised that at 35, Frank would think his child-bearing age was over. We already had two adorable daughters, would he want a son like most men?

"Frank assured me he'd got all the family he ever wanted and 1 relaxed. A couple of years later however, 1 got the news that shattered everything. A friend called she was just from a naming ceremony where the new dad was Frank. And you guessed it, the new tot was a boy! Frank didn't know her, so she was able to give a blow-by-blow account of the ceremony. 1 literally died inside.

How could he? After he'd assured me he was fine the way things were? 1 didn't even suspect he was having a serious affair. This was a man who, even in my darkest moments was there, assuring me 1 could count on him.

"When he eventually showed up and I addressed him by the name of his new son, he was taken aback. Then he became defiant. He told me he didn't ask for what happened, but when one of his mistresses became pregnant and refused an abortion, he resigned himself to his lot. But when he realised he'd had a son, he was really happy. The only problem was how to tell me, but this 'well-meaning' friend had made things easier for him. And he meant to be a responsible father to this son who was born due to no fault of his.


~ culled from FB.


“When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I’ve got something to
tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?

I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her anymore. I just pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane. When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.

This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every day for the month’s duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.
I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. . She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully.

The son who helped his dad make a baby!

By Urowayino Warami   
~vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, April 2, 2017

TUNDE had been separated from his wife for years. She lives abroad and they are good friends. After years of enjoying the single life, he eventually fell in love and things started going horribly wrong. His story:

"I am a medical doctor with a thriving private practice. Six years ago, I finally plucked up enough courage to ask Maureen out to lunch. She was a junior manager at the bank the hospital used and was always very friendly. Whenever interest rates on fixed deposits went up, she would advise me to push for the highest possible on our account. A professional to the core, I was very impressed with how brilliant and intelligent she was. Not to mention her smashing figure.

"She'd just helped push a soft loan I desperately needed to refurbish the hospital when I asked her to lunch as a 'thank you' gesture. To my pleasant surprise, she agreed and that was how our relationship started. I was in my fifties with two lovely children. Their mother had opted to stay behind when I wanted to relocate to the country – our marriage wasn't working and she had a job she loved with the social service. So, we parted amicably and I so much enjoyed my freedom, I wasn't really keen on getting married again- until I met Maureen.

She was a single mother of a two-year-old daughter and as I got to know her better, she told me she was thinking of leaving the bank to pursue a business in horticulture. She'd completed a horticultural course when she studied abroad and had done a bit on the side for a few clients who'd praised her efforts. I encouraged her to follow her dreams and gave her financial support to kick-start the business – she already had half of the outlay from her retirement benefits.

"Barely a year later, the business had taken off beyond our wildest dreams – thanks to elaborate decorations that are the in-thing at functions these days – weddings especially. With my clout, I was able to get her jobs from reputable companies and friends.

"It was around this time we gave a serious thought to getting married. One thing we both wanted very much was a baby of our own. For the next three years, we tried but nothing happened. In the end, I took her to a gynaecologist who was also a very good friend. He did tests upon tests until it was discovered that only one of her fallopian tubes was functioning. That, coupled with my age, had reduced our chances of having a baby. My friend then suggested we travel to Britain, giving us the address of a top IVF hospital. At first, I was reluctant, but Maureen was in her early 30s and feared her biological clock was ticking fast. And I loved her. So I agreed to go with her.

Once he survives the night, he is a MAN

By Utchay Lugar - Ghana
12th March, 2017

*Horrific Story*

A father takes his son into the forest, blindfolds him and leaves him alone. He is required to sit on a stump the whole night and not remove the blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through it. He cannot cry out for help to anyone. Once he survives the night, he is a MAN. He cannot tell the other boys of this experience, because each lad must come into manhood on his own. The boy is naturally terrified. He can hear all kinds of noises. Wild beasts must surely be all around him .

Perhaps even some human might do him harm. The wind blew the grass and trees and shook his stump, but he sat stoically, never removing the blindfold. It would be the only way he could become a man! Finally, after a horrific night the sun appeared and he removed his blindfold. It was then that he discovered his father sitting on the stump next to him. He had been at watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm. We, too, are never alone. Even when we don't know it, God is watching over us, sitting on the stump beside us. When trouble comes, all we have to do is reach out to Him.

Moral of the story:
Just because you can't see God, doesn't mean He is not there."For we walk by faith, not just by sight".

Have a great walk with God today and always. Smiling face with smiling eyes.

For decades mum hid the fact she was a mistress!

Written by Bunmi Sofola
~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, March 5, 2017.

LOLA didn't know the real truth about her mum's marriage of over 30 years until her dad died a few years ago. "I'd had my suspicion about the relationship between my parents. Whilst a few relatives made snide remarks about the illegitimacy of their union, my mother assured us that though our father was once married, he got divorced before they tied the knot.

We somewhat believed her because our half-siblings from our dad's first marriage visited regularly." Lola told me, still bewildered at the events that unfolded just after her dad's passing. "We had what you would call a week-end dad. He worked away in one of the states and only came home weekends. At least, that's what we were made to understand. But he was a pleasant enough dad and picked up all our bills.

"I was an undergraduate when a new friend became curious and wanted to know if my father was the same one her family knew by the same name on their street. I said he was. Is your mum's name Fadeke?", she asked, puzzled. "No. She's Maureen." She looked a bit embarrassed and when next I got home, I asked mum if she knew anyone called Fadeke. 'She's your dad's first wife but they're divorced now', she said. I was really curious.

'So what type of wedding did you have?' I wanted to know. She'd never shown us any photographs. It was a simple registry wedding', she breezed. 'We just had close friends as witnesses.' So where were the photographs? `When the house was flooded years back, the few wedding photographs we had were among the ones destroyed,' she said offhand, not quite meeting my eyes. By the time I finished at the university, our dad's visit had dwindled and mum had to confess they'd separated.

How can a housewife justify multiple affairs?

~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, March 5, 2017.

I'VE often wondered what life would be like if it is devoid of the heady sensation of sex? A lot had been said and written on how revered it should be in marriage. Yet, on the other side of the coin, illicit sex is so available you could virtually have it on tap! When you mention kiss and tell, an image of a man pops up. I mean, what married woman in her senses would confess to an affair even with a gun held to her head, let alone brag about the joy of illicit sex? Times are really changing.

The smug smiles a couple of my friends and I wear when we discussed our 'indiscretions' pale into insignificance when compared with what the average adventurous wife gets away with these days. And she's so brazen she often brags about how easy it is to pull the wool over hubby's eyes.

Vivienne, a much younger friend is one of these high-flying professionals with the Midas touch. She currently works with a boss who was recruited from abroad by the firm they both work with. Viv's been bending my ears on how handsome and cosmopolitan Greg, the boss was that on this day I called on her, I automatically switched off when she started singing Greg's praise. I'd reminded her often she'd just been married less than 10 years and affairs should be off her menu. "I love Ebere (the husband) but he could be so predictable at times." She would tell me in her defence. This day in question, she was babbling on about Greg when I took notice of what she had to say. "I often have erotic dreams about him and now we've been teamed to work overtime on our new account, heavens only know what would happen", she said excitedly.

"What do you mean?", I asked in my don't-do-any-thing-foolish voice. "I've been having these erotic dreams about him and now we'll be working together often, anything could happen". I warned her of the consequences of any rash action, then left. But I couldn't get her out of my mind. I was so curious I had to pay her another visit some few months later. "Oh aunty- C, I feel guilty I couldn't give you a call or visit, I've been so busy!' she said. 'I can imagine,' I mumbled under my breath. It is always a delight to visit her anyway as she entertains lavishly whenever I called. With fresh fish stew and boiled potatoes in my belly, being washed down with a very good wine, Viv dropped her bombshell: "I've relived my dream", she declared. I almost choked on the wine as my ears perked up. "Some weeks back, after we'd finished one of our projects, Greg sent for food from the nearest hotel and popped a bottle of champagne he'd put in his fridge. Before the food arrived, we'd almost finished the bottle which explained why I became giggly and hot when Greg started teasing.

I told him about my dreams and he leered. 'Now's the time to find out,' he said as he moved closer – in a few seconds, we were in a clinch, kissing furiously and helping each other out of our clothes. In no time at all, we were on his office couch, making frantic, raunchy love – the thought of my marriage flying out of the window. "I couldn't have stopped him even if I wanted to! When it was over, he looked really proud of his achievement but I didn't mind. It was the best bunk I'd had for months'.

She blames her mum's alcoholism for their dad's death!

Written by Bunmi Sofola
~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, February 19, 2017.

ALCOHOLICS have always been accused of making the lives of their loved ones miserable whenever the dreaded alcohol takes over their personality. And this happens as often as they get drunk. When Tomi's father died a couple of years ago, she was heartbroken and bitter that their mother's hostility towards him, especially when he was ill, coupled with her unreasonable grumpiness to the children hastened their father's departure to the grave.

"Our dad was diagnosed with cancer over three years ago. He needed extra care at home and I rescheduled my work at the school I ran so, I could be with him more often. Dad welcomed the change, but mum didn't," Tomi, a 42-year -old mother of three said. "Even before our dad became ill, I had a difficult relationship with our mum. In our teens, my sisters and I would cringe as we listened to her pick fights with dad. She was clingy, jealous and self-absorbed. I had to endure hours of her complaining about him when I got home from school – details too intimate for a daughter to hear about her parents' relationship. My sisters used to disappear but as the eldest, I had to endure it. At some point, I felt brave enough to tell her she wasn't being fair, that he was my dad and I loved him. Her focus has always been inwards, which means she barely asks about my life. Dad, on the other hand, was immensely proud of me and we could talk for hours – this made her more resentful.

"When I spent those last few months with him, I tried hard to talk about anything but his illness. Meanwhile, mum became a martyr to his care, complaining how exhausted she was, while pushing away offers of help. I tried to anticipate what I could do to relieve her burden, yet knew this irritated her. It came to a head one evening when she asked me directly if I got homesick. I replied that my husband was fully in charge of the kids and understood why I had to be with my father in his dying moments. She kept on at me until dad asked her to shut up. Next morning, she told me point blank she wanted time alone with him and that I was welcome to visit at the weekends.

"After dad's death, my sisters and I (and dad's siblings and friends) were relegated to small parts in a play that put our mum's grief at centre stage. This all with the embarrassment of her drinking to excess. She has no sense of self-awareness, so never thinks to curtail her drinking to save her children from public embarrassment. My recent birthday was dominated by keeping her from harm and putting her to bed, stark drunk. I tend not to hold grudges, but with mum I can't slake off something close to hate – since I spent more time crying over the way she treated me than I did for my dying father.

"She offers comments that our (me and my sisters') loss isn't as crippling as hers and this makes me angry. How do I get to be a good daughter when I have to brace myself to call her and don't want to visit her on my own? Our dad's death has proved he was the glue between mum and the children, and now there's nothing."

The Patient Wife Gets Her Man At What Cost!

~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, September 18, 2016. 

IT was a little incident, but it opened the floodgate of nostalgia, I'd arrived late at a wedding reception and was ushered to what looked like the high table. The groom's mother is a close friend. I sensed rather than saw this look of disapproval burning into my scalp. I turned, and there she was – Dolapo's wife. I held her gaze and gave as much hostility as she emitted. She promptly looked away. How long ago was it? Over 20 years at least. I'd met Dolapo on a flight from abroad when he wangled his way to the empty seat by my side in first class. Those were the good old days!

The goodies I didn't want jostled about in the haul was deliberately perched on the empty seat next to mine. I had to shift for Dolapo to sit down. It later expired that the seat was booked in his assistant's name but he quickly nudged the poor man towards his own seat so he could sit next to me. I wasn't really interested in what he had to say. Someone else had treated me to this holiday and I'd had fun. Then I noticed he was a picky eater. First, he didn't touch the individual pot of caviar that was served with the starter. Then the lobster in his main dish was left untouched. "I'm allergic to sea food," he whined. Deftyly, I scooped the lobster on to my plate and retrieved the pot of caviar.

"That moment you stole my food," Dolapo later boasted, "I knew I would get my pound of flesh!" And he was a very easy person to love. In spite of his position, he conducted our affair as if he were single. Our social outings were very public and once or twice, his private driver had hinted I should ask him to be a bit careful, that whenever he sent him to mine, it was always within ear- short of the poor wife.

What exactly was I supposed to do? From the little he told me, his marriage obviously wasn't up to much. What was more, I was almost divorced, I had no irate husband to worry about. We were together every opportunity we had and the man's appetite for sex was insatiable! It was as if he couldn't have enough of me. Even when we were apart, I had one of these cordless phones with a very wide range as mobiles weren't in vogue then. I took the phone everywhere I went and became a laughing stock with my friends.

Still, Dolapo's wife's ghost was always there. I saw both of them together a few times in the dailies and she fitted my image of a dull, frumpy wife. Even the wig she always had on looked like a badly used mop. I was never a frumpy dresser and for him, I pushed the boat out a bit – wearing really flattering gears any time we were together. And he often spent the night too – his martyr of a wife never questioned him and they had separate bedrooms.

Caught red-handed by her mother!

Written by Candida
~Vanguard Nigeria. Sunday, August 14, 2016.

Some few months back, at one of these private A-list parties, Dora was having the time of her life. So were a few of us that shared a table.

We were all social friends and the banter was smutty but harmless, until Greg walked in. An obvious hunk, he was way beyond our reach because of his young age – barely 35. He obviously knew Dora as he stopped for a chat, his after-shave almost fouling the air. You know these seemingly cock-sure men, just before making an entrance at any function, they top up on their aftershave, ignoring the less-is-more doctrine.

As he exchanged banter with Dora, his eyes were firmly fixed on her cleavage. In fairness to the poor bloke, the top Dora had on left very little to the imagination. They exchanged phone numbers. What for; I thought fleetingly? Later Dora let it slip that Greg was the older sibling of her daughter's boyfriend. Safe enough, I thought. But how safe sort of burst into the open some four months later. Greg had apparently found his way into Dora's pants. None of their escapades would have been noticed if Tade, Dora's husband, hadn't chucked her out.

"It's Gloria's fault", she fumed as I let her in when she begged to be put up for the night. "And she's going to pay, mark my word," then she burst into heart wrenching tears. What happened?

"Tade found out about Greg and I from Gloria," she spat.

It took a few seconds for me to figure out who Greg was. "You slept with Greg?"

I asked, appalled.

"I couldn't resist him", she confessed. "He pursued me endlessly, said flattering things to me. You know Fade's libido had been down for a while and it was quite flattering when Greg sent me steamy texts of all the things he would love to do to me if he had half a chance. I texted him back. What started as harmless bantering took a wild turn the day I agreed to see him at his flat. I'd hardly touched my drink when he pounced. He was also muscular – a far cry from Tade's sinewy, middle-aged body. I wanted him – all that young, hard rippled sexiness. And he was well worth the risk of my marriage as we made wild passionate love.

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