₦airaland Forum

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omo, you don't want to mess with singapore those guys have an incredible school system specifically when it comes to primary and secondary school. In most international competitions, they always come first way ahead of other countries especially America. America is only known for having the best university system in the world, a lot of there elementary and high schools are nothing to write home about.

This is a great article on how a woman saved her marriage from divorce. Trust me nairalanders, if you take the time out to read this it might help your marriage in future.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/02/fashion/02love.html?_r=1&em


Those Aren’t Fighting Words, Dear

LET’S say you have what you believe to be a healthy marriage. You’re still friends and lovers after spending more than half of your lives together. The dreams you set out to achieve in your 20s — gazing into each other’s eyes in candlelit city bistros when you were single and skinny — have for the most part come true.

Two decades later you have the 20 acres of land, the farmhouse, the children, the dogs and horses. You’re the parents you said you would be, full of love and guidance. You’ve done it all: Disneyland, camping, Hawaii, Mexico, city living, stargazing.

Sure, you have your marital issues, but on the whole you feel so self-satisfied about how things have worked out that you would never, in your wildest nightmares, think you would hear these words from your husband one fine summer day: “I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did. I’m moving out. The kids will understand. They’ll want me to be happy.”

But wait. This isn’t the divorce story you think it is. Neither is it a begging-him-to-stay story. It’s a story about hearing your husband say “I don’t love you anymore” and deciding not to believe him. And what can happen as a result.

Here’s a visual: Child throws a temper tantrum. Tries to hit his mother. But the mother doesn’t hit back, lecture or punish. Instead, she ducks. Then she tries to go about her business as if the tantrum isn’t happening. She doesn’t “reward” the tantrum. She simply doesn’t take the tantrum personally because, after all, it’s not about her.

Let me be clear: I’m not saying my husband was throwing a child’s tantrum. No. He was in the grip of something else — a profound and far more troubling meltdown that comes not in childhood but in midlife, when we perceive that our personal trajectory is no longer arcing reliably upward as it once did. But I decided to respond the same way I’d responded to my children’s tantrums. And I kept responding to it that way. For four months.

“I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did.”

His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch, yet somehow in that moment I was able to duck. And once I recovered and composed myself, I managed to say, “I don’t buy it.” Because I didn’t.

He drew back in surprise. Apparently he’d expected me to burst into tears, to rage at him, to threaten him with a custody battle. Or beg him to change his mind.

So he turned mean. “I don’t like what you’ve become.”

Gut-wrenching pause. How could he say such a thing? That’s when I really wanted to fight. To rage. To cry. But I didn’t.

Instead, a shroud of calm enveloped me, and I repeated those words: “I don’t buy it.”

You see, I’d recently committed to a non-negotiable understanding with myself. I’d committed to “The End of Suffering.” I’d finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I’d seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it.

My husband hadn’t yet come to this understanding with himself. He had enjoyed many years of hard work, and its rewards had supported our family of four all along. But his new endeavor hadn’t been going so well, and his ability to be the breadwinner was in rapid decline. He’d been miserable about this, felt useless, was losing himself emotionally and letting himself go physically. And now he wanted out of our marriage; to be done with our family.

But I wasn’t buying it.

I said: “It’s not age-appropriate to expect children to be concerned with their parents’ happiness. Not unless you want to create co-dependents who’ll spend their lives in bad relationships and therapy. There are times in every relationship when the parties involved need a break. What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?”

“Huh?” he said.

“Go trekking in Nepal. Build a yurt in the back meadow. Turn the garage studio into a man-cave. Get that drum set you’ve always wanted. Anything but hurting the children and me with a reckless move like the one you’re talking about.”

Then I repeated my line, “What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?”

“Huh?”

“How can we have a responsible distance?”

“I don’t want distance,” he said. “I want to move out.”

My mind raced. Was it another woman? Drugs? Unconscionable secrets? But I stopped myself. I would not suffer.

Instead, I went to my desk, Googled “responsible separation” and came up with a list. It included things like: Who’s allowed to use what credit cards? Who are the children allowed to see you with in town? Who’s allowed keys to what?

I looked through the list and passed it on to him.

His response: “Keys? We don’t even have keys to our house.”

I remained stoic. I could see pain in his eyes. Pain I recognized.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing,” he said. “You’re going to make me go into therapy. You’re not going to let me move out. You’re going to use the kids against me.”

“I never said that. I just asked: What can we do to give you the distance you need , ”

“Stop saying that!”

Well, he didn’t move out.

Instead, he spent the summer being unreliable. He stopped coming home at his usual six o’clock. He would stay out late and not call. He blew off our entire Fourth of July — the parade, the barbecue, the fireworks — to go to someone else’s party. When he was at home, he was distant. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. He didn’t even wish me “Happy Birthday.”

But I didn’t play into it. I walked my line. I told the kids: “Daddy’s having a hard time as adults often do. But we’re a family, no matter what.” I was not going to suffer. And neither were they.

MY trusted friends were irate on my behalf. “How can you just stand by and accept this behavior? Kick him out! Get a lawyer!”

I walked my line with them, too. This man was hurting, yet his problem wasn’t mine to solve. In fact, I needed to get out of his way so he could solve it.

I know what you’re thinking: I’m a pushover. I’m weak and scared and would put up with anything to keep the family together. I’m probably one of those women who would endure physical abuse. But I can assure you, I’m not. I load 1,500-pound horses into trailers and gallop through the high country of Montana all summer. I went through Pitocin-induced natural childbirth. And a Caesarean section without follow-up drugs. I am handy with a chain saw.

I simply had come to understand that I was not at the root of my husband’s problem. He was. If he could turn his problem into a marital fight, he could make it about us. I needed to get out of the way so that wouldn’t happen.

Privately, I decided to give him time. Six months.

I had good days, and I had bad days. On the good days, I took the high road. I ignored his lashing out, his merciless jabs. On bad days, I would fester in the August sun while the kids ran through sprinklers, raging at him in my mind. But I never wavered. Although it may sound ridiculous to say “Don’t take it personally” when your husband tells you he no longer loves you, sometimes that’s exactly what you have to do.

Instead of issuing ultimatums, yelling, crying or begging, I presented him with options. I created a summer of fun for our family and welcomed him to share in it, or not — it was up to him. If he chose not to come along, we would miss him, but we would be just fine, thank you very much. And we were.

And, yeah, you can bet I wanted to sit him down and persuade him to stay. To love me. To fight for what we’ve created. You can bet I wanted to.

But I didn’t.

I barbecued. Made lemonade. Set the table for four. Loved him from afar.

And one day, there he was, home from work early, mowing the lawn. A man doesn’t mow his lawn if he’s going to leave it. Not this man. Then he fixed a door that had been broken for eight years. He made a comment about our front porch needing paint. Our front porch. He mentioned needing wood for next winter. The future. Little by little, he started talking about the future.

It was Thanksgiving dinner that sealed it. My husband bowed his head humbly and said, “I’m thankful for my family.”

He was back.

And I saw what had been missing: pride. He’d lost pride in himself. Maybe that’s what happens when our egos take a hit in midlife and we realize we’re not as young and golden anymore.

When life’s knocked us around. And our childhood myths reveal themselves to be just that. The truth feels like the biggest sucker-punch of them all: it’s not a spouse or land or a job or money that brings us happiness. Those achievements, those relationships, can enhance our happiness, yes, but happiness has to start from within. Relying on any other equation can be lethal.

My husband had become lost in the myth. But he found his way out. We’ve since had the hard conversations. In fact, he encouraged me to write about our ordeal. To help other couples who arrive at this juncture in life. People who feel scared and stuck. Who believe their temporary feelings are permanent. Who see an easy out, and think they can escape.

My husband tried to strike a deal. Blame me for his pain. Unload his feelings of personal disgrace onto me.

But I ducked. And I waited. And it worked.


Laura A. Munson is a writer who lives in Whitefish, Mont.

Omo, uncle sege was buff.

mama-g
what kind of stupid spam is that.

It has in a very huge manner. May the good God Lord bless the USA indeed.

Movie ke, you sabi wetin be movie. A movie is a film (what we call it in naija) while a show like prison break is a TV series.

[size=18pt]ORI INU[/size]

Uche ko, Uche ni. You people just believe anything you read on the internet. Weren't you the same people that were saying that Monsieur wenger was going to buy Obafemi or Vincent Enyeama.

How do you translate this specific body parts in your language:
finger, elbow, shoulder
toes, ankles shins, knees, pelvis

this is good news

look him mouth like "this is good news". You people are soooooo gullible, very soon them go come with report that Nigerian universities are the best in the world.

Which kind lie be this. , what of the North african leagues like egypt, tunisia and co. what of south africa? even ghana's league is even better. It seems that anybody can post anything on the internet nowadays and anybody would believe it. The source is not even credible at all.

Ermmm,Davidif,who made the bad business decision and who's suffering the consequencies,I'm talking in relation to the staff that are allegedly owed upwards of 4 months salaries,they are suffering,but what bad business decisions did they make

Rasputin
I meant that the station execs did not run AIT well and could not make a profit which means that they cannot pay there workers well.

This is called capitalism, the survival of the fittest. If you make bad business decision then you face the consequences.

EHN! FRIEND KE!!!

Pressure can be very good at times. It makes you more focused and determined. In Nigeria, the parental pressure pushes some of us to greater heights and not to settle for less. Our parents encourage us to be ultra-competitive at times and we have to considering the society we live in. If we become laid back then we will in some cases starve.

lukman was the former head of opec, who else is going to replace him? I am beginning to doubt if this move is good for the nation or just for the self interest of some tribalistic myopic senators.

michellin where are my posts of 2007 and 1997.

As I said earlier in rebuttal to your point, your whole opposition to the creation of new states is prejudicated on the discredited idea that Nigeria should function under a unitary Government where the centre allocates funds to the parts, and not vice versa.

Whilst ALL regional representatives EXCEPT Arewa are calling for federalism, your idea bucks against the only viable basis for unity.

THE PARTS ARE GETTING TOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BIG. We are spending waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much money running various states and paying bureaucrats thatn we are spending on education and healthcare. Geez, can't you be freaking reasonable. This is common sense, abi don't you understand economies of scale??

Great report.

With all difference to your status as our resident historian, this makes no sense.

More states = less money for each state. . . . but each state now has a lower population due to delineation.

Therefore, the division of funds is still the same as regards the money allocated per head of population.

The number of LGA chairmen and senators do not change, regardless of the division of states. Wakirike Local Government area will not be split into two just because Rivers State has been divide.

You post is a mundane argument against the creation of states.

IBIME
Look, if you want more states, then raise money to run the states and don't ask the fed. govt for yearly budget allocations, use tax payers money to take care of operational expenditures.

for real? i must have slipped then. more like subsidized education meaning getting ur asses taxed out.

Free education is a fundamental human right and even though i consider myself conservative when it comes to taxes i am willing to pay as much taxes as possible so that all our kids can have access to a great education.

May God protect you and bless you man. Stay safe and keep dodging them bullets and like someone said, always remember to put on your kevlar vest NO MATTER HOW HOT IT IS.

ha ha ha ha

State creation is actually very expensive. It actually amplifies financial problems because federal account derivation decreases for each state every time new states are created. The more states there are, the less money each state gets - because there are more states to share the money amongst, not to talk of the extra Governors, Deputy Govs, LGA chairmen, Senators etc from each state that have to be paid out of public funds.

Finally, you are one of the few Nigerians who get the point, the others are just shouting for more states because they don't understand the situation.

he he he, that's a good one. It should be called an exhibition match.

I meant the MEND tactics.

I understand and i think i erred in this regard but i am just pissed off by the politics in the military that

sites all the military weapons and infrastructure in the north
Entering the military by population instead of a very complicated procedure (Merit and special talent)
Putting incompetent people to head sensitive positions and therefore reducing our military growth.

These are just easy problems to solve, they are just institutional problems that can be solved by putting a good leader in charge who changes the status quo. You don't need an incredible overhaul of the system, just replace the guy at the top.