Change cometh but it must begin with Us.

What is Change?

The word Change can either be a Noun and Verb.

As we all know, a noun is a person, place or thing. Therefore, Change as a noun can mean a different or fresh set of ideas or clothes or anything else for that matter.

A verb on the other hand is an action, something we do. In this instance, change is defined as to make or become different in nature or form; to exchange or replace with another, to transform, alter shape, position or composition. It can also mean to lay aside, abandon or leave something or someone for another.

I was in church the other day and a Deacon was making the announcements. It was a particularly joyous moment as he announced the births of several babies. ‘Hallelujahs and Praise the Lords’ rent the air, you know the birth of a baby is always a joyous moment. When he announced that a couple was blessed with twins, the whole place became charged with electricity and everyone was in frenzy. The joy on the faces of the congregants was a sight to behold. Those who knew the father of the twins and all those around him, rushed to hug him and shake his hands. It was obvious that he was the man of the moment. In that moment, all the other new babies paled in significance.

Come Testimony time, only Papa Ejima came out to testify and there was another round of shouting hallelujahs and backslapping. He moved like an achiever, he spoke like one and beamed like one.

Somehow, I found myself thinking back to Mary Slessor’s time in Southern Nigeria when twins were hated and killed. Hapless mothers had their twin babies snatched from their bosoms and taken to the evil forest to be killed because for some reason, twins were considered evil. No man would have dared shared such a ‘taboo’ testimony at that time.

However, Change happened. It was not easy and didn’t come cheap but today, many couples desire to have twins and even triplets. People actually ‘sow a seed’ for multiple births, whether they have the means or not and in fact, everyone believes twins are special and attract special blessings from God. People randomly ‘dash’ twins all manner of gifts and it is not uncommon to hear a proud Iya Ibeji confess that she has never lacked anything since she had the twins.

How about the dominant left hand? Apart from a few ‘recalcitrant’ cultures, the once reviled and shunned leftie is now considered special and genius.

Time was when nobody would accept something offered with the left hand, because it was considered disrespectful and it believed that it was used to clean up in the toilet and other silly notions. People with a dominant left hand were considered sinister and dodgy.

I am a Southpaw and I have had my fair share of jeers and condemnation for using my left hand to eat and write but today, people routinely say they are sure I am brilliant just because I am a ‘lefty’.

We are told most American presidents are Southpaws and most scientists and other geniuses are southpaws. Although some Nigerians still cling to this notion of ‘right good and left bad’, the rest of the world knows and recognises that there is absolutely nothing wrong with a dominant left hand.

Modernity is the quality of being current or of the present.

Nigeria too will get there.

This is why I don’t give up. I believe that someday, men and women will be judged on the quality of their ideas and their contributions to the world and not their genitalia. I believe that one day; a woman won’t be blamed for ‘failure’ to give her husband children especially males. She won’t be asked ‘what did you do or say to anger him’, when her husband is physically abusive and she won’t be made to kneel down and apologise for making him angry enough to strike her. She won’t be shamed and asked what she was wearing or what took her to his room, when she is raped by some scumbag.

One day, most if not all of the burdens imposed on women by religion and tradition, abi culture will be removed by modernity. No matter how long it is resisted, it must come to Nigeria too. Nigeria will catch up with the rest of the world in this and many other issues. We will hopefully let go of those harmful, retrogressive, archaic ideas that serve to keep us perpetually as hewers of wood and drawers of water, as consumers and never producers, as importers but not exporters. The only thing we seem to have in abundance which we export is Religion, a different brand from the one brought down by the people we now export to. Sadly, it still does not help us because it has only served to make us lazy dreamers.

Still I hope, still I fight for change. I have started my own walk towards it so that I am ready to embrace it when it comes. I have started in my little corner with the way Modernity is the quality of being current or of the present.

I am raising

BROTHER EMEKA

I walked in late from work and met the Pastor and his wife, my dad and my parents in law in the sitting room looking grim. My heart skipped a beat and in a split second, my entire life flashed before me. I was scared something had happened to the kids or my husband. I would have passed out but at that very moment, I heard my husband's laugh in the kitchen.
So I greeted everyone and made a beeline for the kitchen where I met Emeka and my bestie; Chioma arranging drinks and glasses in trays.

I wondered if it was someone's birthday and I had forgotten. I mouthed; “what’s up, sis?" at Chy and she shrugged. I said hi to Emeka and noticed he was a bit distant and cold. I shrugged my shoulders too, took the tray from him and we all walked into the sitting room.
As soon as everyone settled down, Pastor Akin cleared his throat and started;
Sister Betty, I am sure you are wondering what is going on and I don't want to waste too much time. I will now ask my wife to pray for us before we begin.
"In Jesus' name"; Deaconess Ife started and everyone chorused 'Amen'. As she prayed, I began to get a sense of what was to come. It was pretty much obvious that Emeka had reported me to everyone present and it seemed to have something to do with my so-called wifely duties of sex and cooking.

I just shook my head and waited for the end of the prayer which came soon enough. Pastor Akin turned to me and said; "Sister Betty; brother Emeka came to see me and it appears we need to have a talk urgently. Everyone will get a chance to talk so please just listen to me now, and then we will all listen to everyone. By God's grace and the help of the Holy Ghost, we will resolve this matter amicably". I want to remind us that the Bible says the woman's desire shall be for her husband. The Bible also commands wives to be submissive to their husbands. Sister Betty, I understand you have stopped being submissive and you rarely cook for your husband. Even worse, you now deny him sex at will. He says you talk back at him and don't respect him. Sister, in the beginning, it was not so and it ought not to be so".
In the corner of my eye, I could see my mother in law tapping her foot and shooting daggers from her eyes at me. These people are not serious, I thought to myself. So Emeka and his mother want an open fight abi? Ok, I am ready too. Hahaha, poor dude, the person that advised you to toe this line, does not love you at all and you under- estimated me.
Anyways, make I dey prepare my defence.

"Yes", my mother in law interjected. "My son has suffered. He has been suffering silently for the past three years and I can no longer take it. A wife's duty is to cook for her husband, to wash his clothes and keep his home tidy. My son is losing weight and he is never happy. Something must be done and it must be now. If she is not ready to be a wife, she should say so. Let her go and let my son marry a real wife”
And she started to cry. Emeka glared at me and turned and hugged her, begging her to take it easy. Chioma and the Pastor's wife all clustered around her, pleading with her to stop crying, exactly what she was gunning for.
That woman has always been a drama queen and loved being on stage.

Emeka turned to Pastor Akin and said; ‘Sir, it is true, I have had it. If Betty cannot be humble and submissive like all good, Christian wives, I may be forced to seek a divorce. Do you know if I touch my wife, she cringes? I can’t take this anymore’. ‘God forbid’, Pastor shouted and broke into tongues. God hates divorce and it shall not be your portion, brother Emeka.’

My dad had yet to say a word but I could see he was not happy.

It went on and on, with the pastor and his wife taking turns to preach at me and enumerate "brother Emeka's virtues and rights as my husband and head". I was no longer listening but no one knew this. In fact, I might have drifted off because I suddenly came to and found everyone looking at me questioningly.
"What? Sorry, I didn't hear that"; I spluttered.

Pastor: “Sister Betty, I asked what you have to say for yourself".
Before I could talk, my husband jumped up and began to pace,
"What will she have to say? She considers herself superior to me because she has a master’s degree and works in a bank. She condemns every single thing I do and constantly belittles me. She does not respect or support me. Even a thief deserves his wife's respect. But my wife does not respect me. I have endured her disdain for years and I really can't take it anymore. A woman that cannot be satisfied by what her husband can provide. Which wife feels too big to cook and serve her husband? I have to make do with whatever rubbish the house help concocts and when I complain, she asks me if there is any law against men cooking".

At this point, everyone was begging him to calm down while Mama was calling on God to come and see oooo.

My head was still bent and only my bestie knew I was fuming. She had already sent me a message on whatsapp asking me to be calm. I replied "today Na today" and she messaged
' babes, please, no fireworks".

Pastor's wife turned to me and said;' Sister Betty, you need to retrace your steps, it’s like you have backslidden. I will be praying for you. Don't let the devil destroy your home. A wise woman builds her home but the foolish one tears it with her own hands".

My dad turned to Emeka and said; " my son, this is not the way to handle these matters. You could have come to me. I gave her to you and if she has been misbehaving, you should have come to me. This meeting is not necessary".

Mama quickly cut in; 'yes, I knew you would support her". "No, my in law, dad said, I am not supporting her. I am only saying an Inquisition is taking it too far. Every marriage has challenges. Did we not have challenges in our own marriages in our own time? Didn't we overcome them’? My father in law who had all along been quiet now spoke up; "Mama Emeka, cool down. Are you trying to say, Emeka won't have any fault in this matter? After seven years of marriage, Betty will suddenly change? Something must have caused it. Let us keep our emotions in check."

Mama turned to her husband and said; "it is true but nobody is perfect. Betty acts like she is perfect while she is not. Remember I visit them much more than you do. Sometimes I will have to cook for our son because she hasn't come home from work and sometimes even if she is home, she will say she is too tired. It is Grace that cooks for Betty's husband. Betty doesn't cook on Sunday at all, that she has to rest. Betty doesn't wash her husband's clothes. If I were like that, would we still be together?"

"Anyway, may I speak now"; I asked.

Everyone immediately fell silent, not before mama's long hiss filled the room.
"Yes, Sister Betty, you may speak."

"Thank you all for coming. It is obvious that you love my family and you want the best for us. I appreciate you all. I am not surprised Emeka felt he had no choice but to go this route but why the ambush? I wouldn't have run away even if I knew you were all going to be here today. Anyway, it is true. Everything mama and my husband have accused me of is true. I no longer cook if I come home too tired or too late. It is also true that I have stopped cooking on Sundays. Bank work is tedious and I work even on Saturdays. I need Sunday to rest and prepare for the week ahead. It is true that my husband and I no longer have regular sex and it is because I don't want. For the first four years of this marriage, I did all of that and more. I remember when I was best wife and best daughter in law. Sadly, it didn't make me happiest wife."

"Pastor, brother Emeka has told you my wrongs but did he remember to mention the time he was sleeping with our family doctor or the Youth corps member in his office? Did he tell you when he brought an STD home? Did he mention that after all these years; he still forgets to flush the toilet? He forgets his plates in the bedroom, his mug where ever he drinks tea, his clothes all over the place. He forgets to pay the children's fees until they are sent away from school and I have to go and pay. Did he mention the times he travelled with different girls and forgot to drop any money in the house for his children?"

"Brother Emeka does not remember to buy toiletries or anything else we need at home. Brother Emeka only recently started giving me money for running the house and it is ten thousand naira every month but Brother Emeka bought a car for Sister Philo in the choir."
l paused and looked around, brother Emeka’s head was down and was no longer sitting so close to him, in fact she seemed to have moved as far away from him as possible. Deaconess Ife was no longer glaring at me self righteously. She was searching for God knows what in her Bible.

I continue; "Brother Emeka will not buy food but immediately he is served, he will start; ' this salt is too much, the eba is too hard or too soft. Beans require small salt; don’t you know vegetables are not cooked for long? The soup is too watery, why do I have only two pieces of meat?" And the day he actually brings that his monthly ten thousand naira, he will increase the complaints.

"Mama, do you know in seven years of marriage, my husband has probably bought clothes for me three times at the most? Do you know he does not buy clothes or shoes for the twins? Do you know we pay the fees and rent together? Do you know that except the few times I asked, he hasn't on his own ever bought recharge card for me or anything else? "Do you know that when I come home from work, I will still help the twins with their home work while their dad who got home before me will be barking orders up and down? When I got home from hospital after having the twins, before you came for omugwo, do you know your son insisted I make a fresh pot of soup and eba for him? Do you know I did it"?

"There is nothing I haven't seen or done or endured in the past seven years. Before I got the job at the bank, I have gone to bed hungry several nights because my husband said he didn't have money to give me for food and yet, while washing his clothes the next day, I would find money in a trouser pocket, sometimes as much as eighteen thousand naira".

I turned to my father;" daddy, did I ever tell you what Emeka said when I asked him for money for mama's surgery? No, I didn’t. Well he said his money was not for me and my mother. Mama didn’t have the surgery and shortly after, she died. I bore all manner of ill- treatment from my husband which nobody in this room apart from Chioma ever knew about. The only thing he has never done is hit me. But the emotional scars are even deeper. I took it all until one day when I decided not to. So yes, now I live for myself and my twins. I do things only when I want to. I still buy most of the food and bear most of the expenses because he says he has projects here and there and also says I should be grateful he even allows me to work. When I ask him for money, he asks me whose money my money is. So Yes mama, I have considered walking out of this marriage more times than I would care to mention. I couldn't afford to before but now I can. But guess what?  I am going nowhere. Karma is a bitch and she is here to stay. It is my turn to make your precious Emeka suffer".

I stopped, looked around the room at all their stunned faces and then I got up and walked into my room.

 

Will Nigerians be forced to eat their children to survive?

For some strange reason, the Bible is replete with stories of famines and Second Kings 6:29 tells of a particular scarcity of food in Israel; so severe it was that two women agreed to cook and eat their own sons to stay alive.

I remembered this story last night while chatting with a friend. I was complaining that I could barely afford to feed my kids due to the galloping prices of food items. I was particularly sore because I was coming from the stores where I had discovered that the cost of every single thing had gone up from three days ago.

Sometime at midnight, when everyone else was asleep, I entered my kids’ room to check on them. as I adjusted blankets and mosquito nets, I remembered those two women driven to the depths of despair and I wondered if Nigeria wasn’t headed that way already.

Suddenly I found myself wondering if push comes to shove, which of the four boys I would start with. morbid, right??

I asked myself; Who do I love most or least? Jay is my first born and the one that resembles me the most; physically and mentally. He excels in everything he sets his mind to and makes me so proud. He is considerate and kind, patient and thoughtful and a great big brother and so I need him to help me with his younger ones.

Obama is my cute dimpled Presidential baby. He is sensitive and thoughtful, very introspective. He is a hugger and has the warmest smile and he tells me he loves me at least twenty times per day. He is the first to notice a new hairstyle, freshly manicured nails and all that. He loves animals and is happy to play alone all day. He is undemanding and painfully shy and i cant imagine my life without him.

Saanmi is the life of the party. He is our in-house guitarist, drummer and all-round entertainer. He can charmingly sell ice to an Eskimo and is unashamedly manipulative. The joy on his face when i drive in after work every day is priceless. No way am i eating Saanmi to stay alive. I CANT LIVE WITHOUT HIM.

Treasure is our baby-last and a southpaw like me. He is so cute and fiercely independent. He has his whole life ahead of his and deserves to live it to the fullest.

It’s obvious I can’t and won’t eat any of them to stay alive. What was that first woman in that story even thinking; how come she agreed her son should be eaten first? She probably didn’t even get the lion share sef, tufiakwa!!

Since I am the de facto chief cook and can’t be eaten first or any time soon, that left the Head of the family. Hmmm, so I left the kids’ room to go and examine HOF as he lay sleeping. I wondered if we ate him, how long we could survive before it would be time to look for another meal and who that meal would be. I didn’t even realise i was touching his arms and legs, looking for the fleshier bits until he suddenly came awake and asked; ‘honey, what is it?’

Hmmmmm, Bubu try nah. No fall our hand oo before what happened in Israel a few thousand years ago will happen in Nigeria under your watch ooo.

TeejayDogoh

Closer than Close

This is not the first time I will be waiting at the airport to pick Obinna up but today, as I sit and wait for his plane to arrive, I am apprehensive, no, I am scared. I am shaking so much I am sure the lady sitting near me can feel it.

I love Obinna so much and being with him is always exhilarating but today I am scared. I am nervous because this visit is different. Obim is coming to town because you see, after five years of tiptoeing around the issue; we have finally decided that on this visit, we will finally cross that line.

This decision is really really huge, so huge that I lost my nerve last night and nearly called everything off because Obinna and I are both married but not to each other.

 Even though we have known each other for five years, we only see once a year and have successfully kept from getting intimate. Initially, we didn't even touch aside from the very first hug. I remember how we would sit on opposite ends of his hotel bed and just look at each other for hours, afraid that if we sat next to each other, we would not be able to stop ourselves from doing all the crazy stuff we had been doing together in our heads. Over the years sha, we had graduated to hugging and then more and finally, even that was no longer enough, hence this visit. 

 I still remember so clearly the first time I first set my eyes on Obim. It was a Wednesday afternoon in June and I was at the DSTV office to pay my subscription. I remember being so annoyed because there was a small crowd there. I was waiting impatiently in line when I suddenly felt uncomfortable, you know how you feel when someone is watching me so I slowly turned and my eyes met this guy who was staring at me without blinking. I quickly turned back. Soon after, I paid my bill and left.

 I momentarily thought the staring stranger but shortly after I got home, I totally forgot about him and got busy with the twins. My twins were barely six months then and Alex was not a hands-on dad or much of anything else and I always had little time for myself once I started attending to the twins. Alex and I had been married for two years and already, I felt like I had made a huge mistake. I often felt trapped and hardly ever smiled, especially when he was around. He worked abroad and came around once every quarter and we would fight almost every other day over virtually everything and sometimes over nothing.

Anyways, several months later, precisely in August, two weeks or so before my birthday, i got a call. In fact, i got sixteen calls from the same number. Alex was not around and i had left my phone in the living room while i bathed the twins, dutifully read two bedtime stories and put them to bed. I momentarily panicked. I am sure you know that when you have aged parents in the village and younger siblings scattered all over the place, sixteen calls from the same number can trigger a mini cardiac arrest. I started to redial the number in a near-panic when my phone started to vibrate in my palm, it was the same number and i broke out in a sweat.

‘Hello’; i croaked. The caller identified himself as Obinna and apologised for calling. At this point, i am thinking who on earth is Obinna nah? I don’t think i know any Obinna, no way i would forget any Obinna with this really nice voice.

Anyways, i dragged myself to the present and he was still speaking. Again he apologised for calling and explained that i didn’t know him as we hadn’t actually met and that he had stealthily copied out got number from the DSTV register. He explained that he had stood a few paces behind me in a queue tp pick DSTV subscription and had taken the liberty of copying my number because he wanted to talk to me. He explained that he had made sure to count how many people were ahead of him so he would get the correct name and number. Lol!

I was more intrigued than upset and asked why exactly he was calling.

(c) teejaydogoh

 

To be continued.

 

When will you marry?

 

‘When will you marry: this year or next year?

Some time or never?

I am sure we all remember this song from our childhood, especially us girls.  We sang this and many other songs as we played during breaks in school and weekends at home after our chores. We sang it without any real thought to the words, after all what did we know of marriage and timing?

Decades later, girls are often asked this same question; ‘when will you marry?’ Doubtless this is often accompanied by reminders that your mates and younger ones are already married, multiplying and filling the Earth.

However, shouldn’t the most important question be who will you marry?

When I was a child, I thought as a child and in my childish thinking, I assumed tall, dark and handsome mattered most. I assumed money made for a happy marriage. I promised myself I was not going to marry ‘ugly’ because I wanted cute kids.

Well, I’m all grown up now and I found out that no one needs rich, tall, dark and handsome to have a good and happy life, especially if this also means ugly, mean, lazy and churlish. Now, I know there is stuff that is way more important than a fine face and bulging pockets.

Young People come to me for advice on marriage and I always say to them; marry only those characteristics you want to see in your children. Furthermore, anything you can’t stand now will be amplified after years of living together and no, sweet sister, you can’t change a man. Neither can a woman be made more pliant or submissive.

Marry what you see not what you hope to see, do it for your children, if not for yourself, as kids learn more from what we do than what we say. People don’t change, I can’t over-emphasize this point. If you think there is room for improvement, talk it over now, if they want to be with you that much, they will work on those areas now. It is far better to be alone and unhappy than be with someone who makes you miserable; one is temporary and the other MAY be permanent.

Instead of being overly concerned about when you too will walk down the aisle or wear a wedding band or finally have fresh, home-cooked meals or freshly laundered clothes, prepare yourself for marriage.

How can a king want to marry you if there is nothing regal about you?

How can a focused, ambitious, hardworking and successful woman want to submit to you when you are a lazy bum?

How can you be the head if you cannot feed, house or clothe the entire body?

Make yourself marriageable or stay single.

Even more importantly, after you have made yourself an asset, don’t cast your pearls before swine. Don’t settle for less than the best. Take your time and get it right.

There is nothing better than a happy marriage

And there is no hell like an unhappy marriage.

Marry right or not at all.