DNA Palava 2

If to say I know, I for no make that DNA post. Notifications wan run down my battery till now and I no even get power for all the conversations wey dem dey raise for there.

 

Anyway there was something very troubling TO ME about several related comments on the post, they all said the man must have seen something that made him go for the test.

 

I made the post from the point of view of a woman who hasn’t cheated on her marital vows. The post was about this young woman from Mbaise with seven names and her reaction to being blindsided like that.

 

However from the comments, I find it disturbing that a man would find something serious enough to doubt the paternity of his children and pay hundreds of thousands of naira to ensure they are his. Yet he keeps quiet about it and doesn’t confront his life partner. Na wetin una dey do inside una marriage? To dey hide that kind thing? Una fit kill person.

 

This August, I cut off from my closest friend outside my brothers, let’s call my friend XYZ. XYZ did something so terrible that I could no longer imagine being friends with this person, funny thing was that I didn’t even realise what had happened until nearly a year later when I passed “the scene of the crime”.

 

I woke up that morning and sent a voice note to XYZ detailing what went down and stating why that incident ended whatever bonds of friendship we had and while I cherished the years of friendship and love we had shared (XYZ is a fantastic person in very many ways). I could not even imagine being more than acquaintances. We have not spoken since.

 

I cannot even imagine being married to someone and we cannot be open to each other about the good and bad. That post was about ME and MY reaction to being blindsided like that. It was not about the generality of women and the terrible state of marriages.

 

If I cannot confront/call out my partner and vice versa on bad behaviour and we would resolve it together, why the fuck then are we married? I don’t understand this secrecy thing I kept seeing in the comments. You eat together – might even cook for each other, share a bed and are naked with each other literally. Yet you’re keeping major secrets like that from each other?

 

Maybe it’s because I come from a family where openness is supreme, maybe that’s why I don’t understand all this hiding theories I was seeing on the post. I grew up watching my parents being open to each other and to us, I grew up knowing that my house was the place I could be sure of the whole truth all the time. My marriage cannot be any different, God forbid.

 

The only thing I have missing in my life currently is a padded account and visas to foreign countries for vacation. Besides that, I have a fabulous life surrounded with love and laughter. Marriage should only enrich my life further like Deut 32:30 implies. If marriage is just about ticking a box to please society and to have children without a meaningful connection between us, why bother?

 

This morning, Celine *not real name* called after reading my post and reminded me of a story she had shared with me some years ago. Her cousin was arranging the house on a Saturday morning (something she rarely did) and came across a folder in her husband’s wardrobe that had copies of his emigration documents to the US.

 

Her husband had married a US citizen who even came down to Nigeria for the wedding at the time when he went on a ‘course’ at work earlier that year. After the wedding, they filed for him to join her in the US with his children. There were also DNA test results for the children that had been submitted at the embassy.

 

But how was he able to marry this US citizen legally while he was still married to her?

 

He got a death certificate for her and made himself a widower with a living wife. She packed the papers and her children and ‘disappeared’ after sending copies of the papers to family members. The man continued with his emigration plans and he’s living in the US today.

 

It made me pause and ponder, it might not even have been about the suspicion of cheating. After all, the test results do not prove she was not a cheat, they just prove that the children were his. What if there was something sinister going on?

 

May we never get married to our enemies.

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Till You Turn To Wanderer.

One of the easiest and surest ways to annoy me is by making sweeping, derogatory statements about ‘Nigerian Youths’ around my space. Nigerian youths are lazy, unemployable, unmotivated, unserious or whatever other adjective you want to use, keep it to yourself.

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Orison

I definitely haven’t been in the mood for a story today, collecting my thoughts was a problem.

I haven’t written a poem in a month or so, I miss poetry. It’s the easiest form of writing for me and it gives me the most joy, even when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…

 

Orison

Pray for me even if you don’t believe 

There’s a god to answer.

For this cup fills me

With anguish & bone crushing dread

And I am yet to take a sip

 

Pray for me, hold my hand if you can.

For this darkness swallows me whole

I can’t breathe

I can’t breathe

I cannot fucking breathe.

 

Pray for me, day and night

Perhaps God would look to you

Maybe your sins are fewer, 

Maybe he knows you still.

Me? He’s forgotten me. 

 

Pray for me for my tongue is gone,

Stolen by the thief of peace.

My words jumble in my head

Desperate for air, 

Dying by the minute. 

 

Pray for me even if you don’t believe

In prayers, or charms forgotten by ancestors. 

Pray for my soul

For the earth wearies me

And I want to die now. 

 

You Can’t Please The World.

The story of the man, his wife and their donkey who kept changing positions according to the dictates of the strangers they met along the way never fails to crack me, no matter how many times I see the depiction. The funniest one to me is the cartoon that shows a man with a marked resemblance to former Nigerian President Dr Goodluck Jonathan and his wife with Nigeria as the donkey.

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What doesn’t kill you…

I was chatting with a very dear friend about being in Benin-city and living here instead of that congested Lagos and I told him about working here for a while before sneaking out at dawn back to Lagos to another job. As I recounted the experience to Odogwu, I realized how much I had forgotten about the turbulence of that time. Continue reading →

Trust the Process.

Two days ago while I worked on a photo from a writing workshop organized by my friend, I had a conversation with my brother on the process of getting the image I wanted from the raw photo which was dark and nearly useless. The picture went from drab to fab in a few minutes. Yesterday morning, I woke up with the thought that the process of getting that picture ready was a lot like life and how God arranges our lives. Continue reading →