TRICK OR TREAT?

Hey Peeps,
I decided to try my hand on a narrative this time. It was the way i started as a teenager and after a few days of "uneventfulness" in my life, my creative juices started working like they used to...

Best compliments of the season!
Chioma

Tunde loved his wife very much.

He pushed the car gear into park and let the engine run. The address wasn’t very hard to find and this was also the area in which he grew up. He exhaled deeply as he thought of his wife; Ann. She was so beautiful and so smart. So what on earth was he doing here?

He remembered when they met ten years ago. She was working as a teller in one of the popular banks where he had an account. She had greeted him politely and smiled a smile that he would never forget for the rest of his life. He knew at that moment that she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Six months after their meeting, he had asked her to marry him and she had screamed “Yes!” at the top of her voice. On their wedding day, all he could think about was how beautiful she was. He had stared into her big brown eyes and known that she was the only woman right for him.

As he sat down in his car and looked into the darkness of this cool November night, he wondered how it was possible for someone so right to become so wrong.

It wasn’t that things were so bad between them, it was just that Ann was so angry all the time. The first two years had started off fine. They both had their relatively good jobs, then the twins were born and they were all happy. But then it became increasingly hard for Ann to cater to two little children and manage a ten- hour job. When the twins were eight months old, Ann found out she was pregnant again and said it was his fault. He recalled coming home late that night after a stressful day spent in long meetings to find Ann sitting in the kitchen fuming. She had called him all the names from Bastard to Retard before he even got to know what the problem was. She blamed his incessant whining for sex especially when she claimed she was not safe. She swore on her father’s grave that she wouldn’t let him touch her in another one year and threatened she was going to see the doctor to have it removed. He had mustered all the strength he had left to calm her and make her see some sense in children being a gift from God. Shortly after the baby was born, he got a promotion at work and they didn’t have enough time to celebrate when Ann had gotten a letter from her office terminating her appointment.

That was when the real trouble started.

The fights became more and every time there was one, she used it as an opportunity to blame him for the loss of her career and too many babies to take care of. One time, she called him a fool whose master plan was to turn her into a housewife. Tunde tried not to get mad at all her spiteful comments. He had always known she had a bad temper and could say the worst things in rage. But he also knew that her anger was fleeting. She would apologize after a few hours and make up for it with a lovely meal or some good love-making. But over the years, the fits got more, the apologies got less and the sex went to zero.

He smirked sarcastically in the car as he thought of the sex.

He recalled their honeymoon which they spent on the beautiful island of Crete. He knew the things that Ann could do with her body and just how far she was willing to go to please her man. Unfortunately, with each year spent together, that willingness seemed to disappear. After the twins were born, he had noticed she became uncomfortable with her body. She had an episiotomy and she was afraid she was not as tight as she was before. It had taken weeks of convincing for her to make love to him after which he assured her that there wasn’t any difference. After that hurdle came the baby excuses. There was always one or two babies with them who always managed to wake up whenever he made a move. And when they weren’t there in person, Ann had a notion that they were not asleep yet and thus could wake up and walk in on them.

Tunde was never comfortable talking about their sex life but when he realized that they hadn’t done it in almost a month, he had to speak to a psychologist friend. Dr. Tony had helpfully suggested romance, date nights and role playing to him. In his opinion, Ann was made up of two personalities now; the wife and the mother and spending too much time wearing her “mother” hat was adversely affecting her “wife” hat. According to him, making gestures that would awaken her mind towards her “wife” nature would help their sexual life.

 It worked for only a few months.

Even now, sitting outside an unfamiliar house, he tried hard to remember when last he had made love to his wife. It was about a month ago, when he came back from a friend’s bachelor’s eve party. After a few glasses of champagne he had come home almost begging her to do it with him. She had considered he hadn’t been in any fights with him for the past few weeks and he had bought her a pair of gold-plated earrings recently, so she agreed. Halfway through, she heard one of the twins screaming “mommy” and urged him to ejaculate quickly so she could go see. He had told her that the live-in nanny would get her but then the girl started crying so Ann hissed and pushed him off her, mumbling something about how she had already told him to “cum” and he was wasting time. He could have angrily gone to bed that night but the alcohol in his system wasn’t helping so he had to help himself in the shower.

He turned off the ignition and got out of the car. The gate of the house was open so he walked right in. The house was recently painted in pale yellow and had a red roof with deep red mahogany doors. He walked up to one of the doors and knocked gently. He could hear SADE’s ‘Your love is King’ playing from inside. He smiled to himself as the door opened and an attractive young lady popped her head out. “Good evening, please I’m looking for Ada, is she in?” he asked politely and somewhat shyly.

“She’s inside, come in, I’ll take you to her apartment” the lady said almost sounding like a robot.

Two months ago, he had met Ada at the nearby gym.

The first time he saw her, she was working out on the treadmill one hot Saturday morning. She was very beautiful and had a body that Beyonce would die for. He was never attracted to full bodied women but Ada was exceptional. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one attracted to her. A few single guys who had been pretending to be lifting weights were the ones who made him notice her when she walked in. They had been talking about the new James Bond movie when one had stopped the conversation with a hushed “See her! See her!” He had involuntarily turned to ‘see her’ as well and was completely enchanted by her beauty. For two weeks, he kept coming to the gym at the same time to see if he would run into her again but she didn’t show up.

However, luck was on his side on lazy Saturday afternoon when he had agreed to bring his family to the club. The kids were off playing soccer with Ann when he decided to do a few laps in the pool. He had gotten through one lap when he noticed her beautiful bikini-clad body get out of the pool. He immediately felt the beginning of an erection and was so glad he was far away in the deep end. She suddenly turned around and locked eyes with him, then smiled. He felt like an awkward teenager as he tried to smile, wave and control the growing bulge in his Speedos. He became distracted when his last child had surprisingly freed himself from his mother and was running towards the pool area screaming “Daddy!” He had to get out of the pool and attend to his family as Ann and the other two came up right behind him. But from the corner of his eye, he saw Ada get into the changing room, dress up and leave.

The next weekend, he showed at the gym with the hopes of running into her. He had been there for about an hour when she walked up to him on the treadmill.

“Now what sort of gym plays SADE as work-out music?” she said to him with a laugh. He was supposed to say something, but he opened his mouth and nothing came out. He was stunned by how beautiful she was up close even with a sweaty brow and no makeup on.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m Ada,” she said with a smile and stretched out her hand for a shake. He took it and politely introduced himself. She looked around suddenly and said “I don’t see your family around, is today Let Daddy Off day?” He laughed at her sense of humor and replied “Oh! Haven’t you heard about it?” They had exchanged numbers that day and started chatting every day from then on.

He later found out that Ada was a Marketing Executive with a renowned insurance company. She lived with her sister her in Lagos since her parents were settled in the east. One evening, he had taken her out to dinner after which he dropped her off where she could take a cab home. He thanked her for coming out and she surprised him by leaning over to kiss him very deeply. He had just sat there, shocked and unresponsive. She made a little laugh and looked him seductively in the eye “Tunde…you know you deserve a treat… why don’t you come over to my place tomorrow evening and we’ll see about that”. She immediately got out of the car and walked away so conscious of the fact that his eyes were glued to her voluptuous backside.

Indeed, he deserved a treat, he thought to himself as he knocked on the door the lady had directed him to. It was a gift, a kind gesture to a man in need. If Ann didn’t have time or the thought to give this gift, why should he decline it from someone else? It wasn’t that he loved his wife any less, he was just thinking about himself; for once in ten years.

Ada opened the door and greeted him with a beautiful smile. She was wearing a purple negligee that left little to the imagination. As he entered her apartment, he pushed all his thoughts out and listened to the soothing sound of Sade Adu’s voice coming from the stereo “…your kisses ring…round and round and round my head, touching the very part of me…”

THE OLDER THE WINE…(2)

A few weeks later, after my boss had congratulated me for winning the account, I decided to pay the client a courtesy visit to see how things were going. I was walking through the front door when I bumped into Sydney*. We exchanged pleasantries and he excused himself. He had taken a few steps towards the parking lot when he spun around suddenly as if he recalled something. “Ummm…hey…I was actually on my way to have lunch with an old friend” he said smiling “if you are not too busy, would you accompany me?” I smiled to myself as I wondered how busy I could possibly be to turn down such an important invitation. “Actually, I was to have a meeting with Sam* (the account manager) but he just texted me that he is out of the office”, I lied “So, lunch wouldn't be such a bad idea”. “It won’t” he concurred with a flirtatious wink.

Lunch for me is usually a trip to the nearest confectionary for chicken and chips on a very good day but lunch in Sydney’s world was a totally different ball game. So when his SUV we drove in pulled up at the Hilton, I knew I had stepped into a world that I wouldn’t forget in a hurry.  When we walked into the restaurant, it was a smiling Caucasian man that stood up to greet us. “This is my close friend and business partner; Mark*. Mark*, this is my new friend and business partner; Chioma”, Sydney went through the introductions. I was laughing at the “business partner” title when Mark* took my hand tenderly to his lips “I’m pleased to meet you, vous avez une beauté si enchanteresse.” I was completely smitten even though I had no idea what in God’s name he just said to me in French. “Si vous continuez à essayer de la duper avec votre accent et je lui dirai ce que sont un joueur vous!” Sydney seemed to playfully retort him and they both laughed. “Hey, hey, what is going on here?” I asked totally lost in the sudden language change. Mark pulled out my sit as he explained “Pardon me, mademoiselle but your friend here was reprimanding me for complimenting you” he smiled revealing his tobacco-stained teeth. “Well, with four ex-wives and a chain of broken hearts under his belt, who knows what other strategies he’s deploying?” Sydney explained while we both laughed.

During the three-course lunch, the two old friends played catch up while i learnt a little this and that about Sydney. Like Mark, he too was a divorcee and he had a 20 year old daughter who lived in Australia with her mother. While we were having desert which comprised of delightful waffles laced with whipped cream and strawberries, Mark excused himself to go tend to his addiction, giving Sydney and I some alone time. He looked into my eyes with a teasing smile for a few seconds then asked if I had a husband or boyfriend. “None of the above” I responded matching his gaze. He seemed genuinely concerned “Why not? You haven’t found your type?” I laughed as I replied, “Quite frankly, I don’t know my type…I just fall in love… I guess.” He sipped his wine slowly then nodded his head in agreement still looking into my eyes, he said, “After all, the heart wants what the heart wants.”

That weekend Sydney took me out dancing. And it wasn’t one of those new clubs that play hip hop music. He took me to a Salsa dancing bar where we drank Mojitos and danced the night away. By the end of the night, I was sure where all that was heading and even though I wanted to kick myself for giving in so quickly to his advances, I was too buzzed to care. We drove to the Hilton where the Floor Manager led us to his reserved penthouse suite. It was an exquisite room and I must say worth the hundreds of thousands of naira it cost. He went into the bathroom and I got comfortable on the bed. When he came out, he stopped and smiled at me, “Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked as he approached me. He climbed onto the bed and cupped my face in his hands and slowly kissed….my forehead. I raised one eyebrow and opened my eyes to look at him as confused as I could possibly be. He immediately got off the bed and headed to the door, “There’s something I need to sort out in town…I’ll be back soon”. I heard the door shut before I could even speak the words brewing in my mouth.

“Just like that?” Kate* asked me the next morning as she munched the pancakes on our breakfast tray. “Hmmph! My sister… Na so I see am o” I replied almost sounding sorry for myself. I had invited Kate* to the suite last night when all efforts to reach Sydney* had proved abortive. I was even more upset when the Floor Manager had showed up in the morning with a lush breakfast that Sydney had instructed him to serve me. “Anyway, weren’t you the one going after an old man?” Kate asked me mischievously, “And how is that helping??” I retorted angrily. “Ehn…maybe he can’t…you know…perform!”

The next time I saw Sydney was a few days later at a Shopping Mall across town. After several attempts to see him at his office without success, I had concluded that he didn’t want to be reached. I was about to walk into the cafeteria where he was having coffee when another lady beat me to it. She was a tall, slim and very beautiful blonde. He stood up as she approached his table, hugged her lovingly and kissed her…on the lips. I stood there in utter shock not knowing whether to continue towards him or just walk away. Then I noticed Mark* join the two lovebirds with his own cup of coffee. The three smiled pleasantly as Sydney introduced the lady to him. He said something I couldn’t make out and took her hand tenderly to his lips…

THE OLDER THE WINE…

Hello People,

Firstly, let me apologise for the long silence. In the last few months, my job description changed and i was saddled with more responsibility. It's been hectic, but God has indeed been my strength. So! Here's something... let me know if you like it ok?

With love from Chioma.

They say that there are only a few guys that every girl must date before eventually getting married; the good guy, the bad guy and the older guy. In my case, after my own fair share of the good, the bad and the ugly I knew that it was only a matter of time before the laws of the universe sent an older guy my way.

It all happened one Thursday afternoon when I went for a presentation to a prospective client. I woke up that morning feeling really good and I tried to put that feeling into my look that day. So when I arrived at the client’s office, I was beaming with a smile and dressed to kill. A few minutes later, I was ushered into the board room where a met with five executives one of which was a handsome middle aged gentle man with a distinctive grey moustache. As I started my presentation, I tried to maintain eye contact as I was trained to but I couldn’t help but notice the Mr. Grey moustache was busy on his blackberry phone throughout. At first, I found it quite peculiar but as we progressed, I found the attitude quite rude. At the end of the session, while we concluded negotiations, he was the first to bolt out of the boardroom without managing a “goodbye”

“Who does he even think he is?!”I was fuming on the phone to my friend Kate* an hour after the awkward meeting, “If he wasn’t interested in the product, he could have just stayed away! No one had a gun to his head!!!” Kate did her best to calm me and advised me to hope for the best from the other four interested executives. A week later, I got a call from the client’s secretary inviting me for a meeting with the Chairman as he needed to clarify before signing the deal. I was so excited about the upcoming meeting with the Chairman because I knew that meeting him would boost my chances at getting that account. The only curious thing was that the meeting was on a Saturday afternoon and when I asked the reason for such an unusual time, the secretary informed me that the Chairman was least occupied at that time.

I showed up at the office early and when I knocked, I was quite shocked when Mr. Grey moustache opened the door. “Hi!” he said and smiled as if he was genuinely excited to see me at the door. I managed a forced smile and informed him of the purpose of my visit. “Yeah, I know, Come on in”, he answered and ushered me into the office. I noticed the office was less crowded and the staff was casually dressed as it was a weekend. As I followed Mr. Grey moustache in, I had ample time to look at him from behind. He could have been between 50 and 60 but he walked with the gait of a 20 year old. He was wearing a tee shirt and blue jeans and I must say, smelt like a million bucks. “If only he didn’t have such a bad attitude”, I mumbled under my breath.

He led me into a large office and asked me to please shut the door and have a seat. Then he walked behind huge table and sat into the large arm chair. “YOU are the CHAIRMAN?” I blurted. “You sound disappointed” he laughed as he reached for his phone and started punching the keys. I apologized for my reaction and we went right into the business of the day. I started to look at him differently when I realized that he had all the information from my presentation that I had assumed he was not interested. At the end of the meeting, I got to know a few things about Mr. Grey moustache, like his name, which was Sydney* and yes, he was indeed born in Sydney, Australia. He founded the company a few years ago in the US and started running the Lagos office when he relocated last year.

As he escorted me outside the office premises, I found myself drawn to him in a very curious manner. I wasn’t sure whether it was the grey moustache or the obvious power he wielded. He could have been at least three times my age and though he was good-looking, he didn’t quite fit my “type”. As I drove away, I couldn’t help thinking of what it would be like to date someone his age. He belonged to the generation that still opened doors for ladies and stood up for the lady to sit at the table. My curiosity got the better part of me; this was one dish I was willing to try.

 He smiled at me as he waved when I drove out of the parking lot. I knew that smile; that definitely would not be our last meeting…

THE STUPID THINGS WE DO WHEN WE'RE IN LOVE

...Riding with my boyfriend in his mother's beatdown Volkswagen beetle and loving it.Gosh!I would die if anyone had taken a photo and showed it to me now!

MUCH ADO ABOUT FUNMI HAIR

I was sitting in the office one afternoon when a tall not so pretty girl walked towards me and asked for directions to the ladies. When I did give her and she turned to walk away, I couldn’t help but notice the bouncy shiny weave on her head. Suddenly, it was as if the whole world was in slow motion as her hair moved swayed like the ocean to the cool evening breeze.

I called her back immediately and asked her what weave she had on. “Oh, it’s just Funmi Hair”, she replied rolling her eyes as ran her fingers through it for emphasis. I went green with envy and I contemplated dragging her into the ladies and chopping her hair off. But then, that would be against the law, wouldn’t it? However, at that exact moment I knew that I had to get me some Funmi Hair or die trying.

When I talked about my latest mission to my friends, to my greatest surprise, two out of three of them already had Funmi hair stashed in their closet. When I asked them why they hadn’t worn it yet, they said they were reserving it for a very special occasion where a huge crowd of ladies to ogle at it. They advised me to contact the Funmi Hair dealer here in Lagos to make enquiries about the product. When I called her, she seemed rather pleasant at first but when she told me the price and I asked her if I could pay installmentaly over the next six years, she hung up on me.

The next day, my boyfriend and I were chilling lazily at his apartment when I asked him the reason why next week was so special. "It's your birthday on Monday, isn't it?"He replied, smiling as if he had just solved an age old riddle. I smiled back and proceeded to tell him what I wanted as a birthday gift. "Is it not one of those human hair weaves I see around?"He enquired, "No, it is not, it’s Funmi Hair! You can look it up!"I retorted. I went on to give him the dealer's number, with hopes that maybe he could get a better deal. He kissed my cheek and promised me he would do his best to make me happy.

Less than 48 hours later, I got a message from him that read "Why don't you just sell me to slavery in order to pay for your stupid Funmi Hair!"

I am still undeterred, next stop is the bank...I'm sure they have some kind of “hair” soft loan I can apply for...

Morning People,
So i'm having breakfast with two of my "favouritest" friends and they start talking about my new blog. They dissect, analyze and criticize my posts for a little over an hour and when they were done, i smiled and said "So why don't you leave your comments?". They came up with several excuses from  knowing me personally to they weren't sure if i REALLY wrote the posts. Well, dearest friends, here's a piece i wrote a while ago when my mind was in a very dark place.... Hope this is sufficient proof.

She lay down mystified by the blood

She willed her body to move but nothing

Then she moved again but not by will

"If you ever in your life!"

It came again and she went numb

Then the sound on the floor

She saw the shoes,Ferragamo for last christmas

They moved away and then her eyes stopped moving too.

THE EX FACTOR

Last week, I had an unexpected encounter with my ex when he showed up to rescue me from a car situation I found myself in. So when my car was up and running and I was barreling home in the middle of the night, I couldn’t help musing; there was a reason they called them “ex”, or wasn’t there? It was pretty interesting for me because my relationship with Ken* (the ex in question) didn’t end in the most pleasant way. He had been so nice to me; he bought me gifts and took me to the fancy places I loved. I, on the other hand, was quite rude and uncaring towards him. In retrospect, I honestly think I was in that relationship for what I was getting out of it. I recall that when I eventually got tired of it and called him to end it, he cried like a baby and begged me not to leave. I severed all forms of communication ties with him and went on my way. Three years later, my car battery is dead and I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere when I call on him for help.

Now I’m at sitting at home asking myself the age old question; “Is it ok to be friends with your ex?” Although I know the answer to this question should be yes, in most cases, I beg to differ. We have all had our fair share of “ex” experiences, some good and some downright ugly. So the real question should be which of our exes are we to make friends with and which of them should we drop like a hot potato?

One particular “ex” experience I had left such a bitter taste in my mouth, I felt like kicking myself for getting into the relationship in the first place. Bobby* and I had been dating for five months while he was away in the UK and everything was just fine. I knew that I was not much of a fan of long distance relationships but Bobby* seemed like a pleasant guy and he always had the right things to say. When he announced that he was coming home on holiday, I was so excited and I looked forward to spending quality time in each other’s presence. When he finally arrived, I discovered that he was quite different from the man I had been talking, chatting and skyping with all this while. The personality change was so quick, I dialed his UK number a couple of times to see if “my” Bobby* would pick up.

The proverbial stroke that broke the camel’s back happened one evening when he picked his phone and started chatting up another girl while I was seated right in front of him. When I expressed my displeasure, he gave me a stern look and asked me to “get out” of his apartment. I was so shocked I couldn’t even speak. On my way out, I met his uncle whom he was staying with who happened to like me a lot. He asked me what happened and when I started to give my side of the story, the tears started pouring from my eyes. He called Bobby* and asked him to apologize as that was no way to treat a lady but he refused. I walked out of the house as embarrassed as I could possibly feel.

A few days later, in an effort to be friends with my ex, I called Bobby* to apologize for being rude in anyway. I hadn’t even gotten a friendly “Hello” out of the way when he started using all the ‘f’ words in the ‘f’ dictionary. He used the ‘b’ word a couple of times and threatened to do something to me if I ever called his number again.

Now, when I juxtapose both “ex” experiences, I can’t help but wonder what the ex factor is. Is it that the ones we are not good to are the ones that make good exes and the ones we are good to make the horrible exes?

HAPPY EASTER CELEBRATIONS Y'ALL!!!!

CROSSING THE LINE

....Under construction....

THE HEALING PROCESS

Yesterday, I went on my first date in three months. It may seem like nothing special to you, but for me, it was like a breath of fresh air. Let me explain; exactly three months ago, I took a bold step in my life and ended a three year relationship. Before then if someone had walked up to me and said “hey, someone broke my heart”, I would have gone “Big deal, get over yourself”. But truth be told the taste of the pudding really is in the eating.
For two whole weeks I stay home all day by my self and at night I would cry myself to sleep. When my friends came a calling, I would give an excuse not to go out then cry some more. Later on, I would go out and whenever the issue of men or relationships arose, I would dismiss it with such bitter statements as “he was a jerk anyway”, “it’s his loss not mine” or “men are such idiots”. I thanked God that my friends didn’t blame or argue with me at the time. They knew I was in emotional pain and shouldn’t be held accountable for my words.
At a party one evening, my friends introduced me to pretty, young banker named Charlene*. I couldn’t help but notice that she kept saying this guy is cute and that guy is checking me out. When the men came along, she was totally at ease with them. I asked my friends about her and they told me she just went through a bitter divorce with her husband which left her in partial custody of her three year old boy. I felt sorry for her and when she came back to the table I held her hand and said comfortingly, “it’s not you dear, men are all trash.” “No they are not” she replied matter-of-factly,”You’ve got to heal yourself.”
Later that night as I lay in my bed, unable to sleep, I started thinking about the healing process. According to Charlene*, the healing process was a way to positively get rid of your hurt and feel better about yourself. Easy for her to say, I thought to myself indignantly, she didn’t know what I had been through. But, I knew she was so right.

In my case, it wasn’t just letting go, it was the fear that I may never find another person like my ex. I briskly got out of bed and sat at my reading table, it was time to go to work on my emotional pain. I felt the tears painfully welling up in my eyes as I titled the sheet of paper; FIVE GREAT THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MY EX. Then I started writing, the way you smile and spread your arms when we meet……
Thirty minutes later, I had filled the first page with beautiful thoughts as well as my tears. I had a smile on my lips as I kept thinking; this IS much harder than I thought. I held up the paper that was now numbered 1 to 10 and after a brief moment, put it away. I drew another sheet and titled it; FIVE GREAT THINGS I LOVE ABOUT ME. I finally had to stop myself over an hour and two sheets later. The tears were gone and I even had on a satisfied smile.
As I returned from my date yesterday, I looked at my image in the mirror and smiled to myself. Although some part of my face was covered by two sheets of paper that bore my handwriting, I knew that letting go of my hurt was all the beauty treatment I needed.