Dear Nigerian Husband,
I’ve got good news and bad new. Which do you want first?
Let’s start with the bad news.
Dear Unborn Children,
A few days ago on the 1095th day of your father and I knowing each other, I began telling you the story of how it all started. I had to make it short as I didn’t want to bore you with all those tiny details. Apparently, your curiosity has gotten the best of you as well as other aunties and uncles who have read my letters to you behind your back. (Adults these days, I tell ya!)
See, when your father and I met, I didn’t think we would go beyond being friends. On the surface, he fit the perfect picture of a player. I wasn’t about to get my heart played and dumped like used diaper. I had to thread carefully.
Even as I moved with caution, your father was so intriguing: our conversations were really good. We could go for hours just chatting about nothing and anything. Hardly an hour went by without some kind of communication. (I’m sure he’ll remember when
I’ve not written for a while and needless to say, I’ve felt off balanced to a degree. So I want to change that with what I hope would become series of letters to my unborn children. And I hope to tie these series to the series I wrote about their dad.
See, if you’ve been a follower, or occasional visitor to my
writing ramblings, you should be familiar with Continue reading
Many moons ago, I was somewhat consistent with providing content on this blog.
I apologise and I have to be honest, I can’t promise that this will be the last time I’ll be gone on long and unannounced haitus and all. But I pray you stay with me or at least click when you see a new post.
Not so much of an update – trust me, there’s a lot of update to come – I’m simply here to quickly record for posterity the little I’ve learned about myself over these past months.
As I announced sometime last year, I got laid off my job. Rewind many years ago, I thought I knew myself ; a go-getter, hustler, negotiator, talk-my-way-out kind of person. But oh, the joke was/is on me.
I’ve learned that I can be quite unmotivated at some of the most serious things in life, but thank God, I’m learning I can talk to God about it, but most importantly, trust that He’ll help and guide me, but I have to take the steps.
I love to write, infact, life without writing would be so sad. However, I’ve learned that I write the most when I’m emotionally balanced or should I say “happy.”. When there’s so much to think about, I write less and tend the share less about myself.
I worked in media for about 12 years so I thought I communicated well enough. Ha! Life with my partner is teaching me otherwise. I’ve come to realise I’m HORRIBLE at communication. I think to myself a lot, discuss with myself and get so comfortable doing it that I forget this life isn’t just all about me alone. This marriage life is now “us” and not “I.” I’m still adjusting.
Still a lot to learn about myself.
On a lighter note, I can brag and say I’ve mastered jollof rice and I got amazing compliment from The Nigerian Husband the other day. I about to move on to pounded yam.
Please stay with me.
Dear Nigerian Husband,
It’s been many weeks since I last wrote you. A lot has gone on, but they may be inconsequential for now.
I’ll shoot straight.
I’m afraid your North Eastern Nigerian family members may be looking to come kick me out of my matrimonial home if
I got married to a handsome man today. (Before we adopted western culture, all we needed to testify a marriage was the paying of the bride price/dowry. Mine was paid today, so I’m married)
A few years ago when I began writing about The Nigerian Husband, I wasn’t dating anyone at the time, not to talk of that person being Nigerian. I simply just had fun with the idea of dating a typical Nigerian man, or rather the idea of creating the ideal man in my mind.
Mostly, I created this character of a man who was somewhat traditional yet open minded among others attributes.
After writing about that character for at least four years and laughing at myself along with others, this handsome man who fit allllllll of the characteristics I had written about showed up.
After dating long distance for, say, a year or so, and dating in person for another year, or so, today, December 1, we got married traditionally.
My heart is filled with so much joy and happiness, I’m excited to see all the good things God has planned for the future of the Nigerian Husband and me.
Dear Nigerian Husband,
I’ve been working out almost consistently for the past three weeks, I can see the difference in my clothes here and there.
(I won’t give audience here to the neighbour who saw me about to leave the street this morning for my jog and decided it was appropriate to stop me and tell me how fat I’ve been getting these days)
I’ve enjoyed most of the workouts with the group at the state stadium. For the most part, the people are friendly, but some may need a bit of manners: they come late and still see it their right to stand right in front, edging out those who are early. I digress, that’s just me being petty.
But this vent it’s about any of them.
I left the group early today as I planned on getting home in time to prepare for a funeral. As I walked back home, I noticed a mini-van pull up in front of me. I mean, I didn’t think the driver was pulling over for me, so I walked by without saying a word. He called my attention, I stopped because thought he needed directions. ( I’m sorry for anyone who would follow my directions to anywhere in this Jos. You’ll end up in Bauchi State. LOL)
Anyway, this man went on a mini attack of questions.
“Are you into Continue reading