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Episode 2

Isn’t marriage for better or worse, till death do us part? Woh, I’d just maintain a little patience with him and watch him go back to the person I fell in love with. I know he’s a good man, and I think he’s just going through a mid-life crisis. Maybe it’s the thought of taking care of the family all by himself that’s getting him worked up or maybe he’s having work related issues. I know my ‘Lolu is not a wife beater, he would change.
Two weeks after the incident had happened – a Saturday to be exact, he came home from wherever he went and headed straight to the Guest Room which I had now turned to my new haven since the tension in the masters bedroom had become too much to bear. I was very tired from the day’s job of taking care of the kids and was very dizzy from the sleeping pill I took minutes before he walked in but as soon as he started groveling, every form of dizziness seemed to fade away.
Oh, how I’ve missed my husband, but he won’t get me that easy, while he was still talking and making up excuses for his action, I got up and went into the bathroom – acting uninterested in the conversation. He stopped talking and stood by the door, watching me make a fool of myself as I stood in front of the mirror, staring blank at it. When he realized I didn’t have any plans of coming out just yet, he came in and stood behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered sweet nothings to my ear, and on the spot I could feel every form of hate and anger in me, melt away.
That night, I moved back into the Master’s Bedroom upon his insistence and we made love like two teenagers. For the next five months we lived as a happy couple, until December 18th of that year, when for the first time in my life, I questioned my purpose for living – I would never forget the date.
A gift box had come in for him from his office that afternoon, and I was somewhat excited about it because we usually always had a room filled with gifts during the festive season but that year, everything seemed dull. So I took off the gift card that was sellotaped to the box to read its content.
“Wishing you and your family all the joy and happiness the Christmas season brings”
Akinlolu George
Atinuke George
Akinlolu George Jr.
Adegboyega George
Oluwafemi George
Oluwatitilayo George
Olamipo George
Ireoluwa George
“With love from Savanna Bank”.
The Christmas cards that usually came from his office always had the names of every member of the family included in them, but there was something unusual about that particular card. It contained Lolu’s name, mine, our two kids’, and the names of four other people. I was lost.
I wasn’t going to conclude immediately, but something in my subconscious kept telling me the other names were those of Lolu’s other children and the Akinlolu George Jr. that was included in the card was enough to make me conclude the names were his children’s.
E ma gba mi ke, Ki ni mo fe so fun awon ara ita? (See My Plight! what would i tell the world?) that I married a man and I didn’t know he already had children? – I mumbled, as I started to get paranoid. Be calm Tinuke, be calm.
I had always suspected Lolu of having extra-marital affairs, and on numerous occasions he had proved me right. Sometimes he would come home oozing of feminine perfumes; other times he would have lipstick stains on his shirt and the most unforgettable one was the text message he accidentally sent to me instead of his mistress which he blatantly denied knowing anything about.
I wasn’t confused, I knew what I was seeing but I just couldn’t bring myself to terms with it. Sadly, it coincided with the day I planned on telling him that I was three months pregnant with our third child. I was pacing round the sitting room, trying to gain composure and hoping my instincts were wrong. I wanted to call him, but I also wanted to ask him in person; I opted for the latter.
I was able to calm down after a few hours, and instead of dwelling on whatever lies Lolu might have told me and whatever hurt that I was going through; I decided to think about my future as his wife and the future of our children.
The children were on holiday at my mother’s so I didn’t have to bother about them witnessing the events that would unfold that night. I decided to make him his best meal – pounded yam and Ogbono soup with assorted meat and I waited up till he got back from work. I had slept off on the couch until the horn of his car woke me up – it was almost midnight. I wasn’t deterred; I was determined to get to the bottom of the matter that night.
He staggered into the sitting room drunk; I even had to help him to the couch. I pulled up a stool and sat right in front of him and had to tap him a couple of times till I was able to get him to concentrate on me, then I took out the card and held it to his face. His reaction said it all. Tears rolled down his cheeks, at that moment, I knew the kids were really his. As much as I wanted to listen to his story that night, I was overwhelmed by the thought of it. I got up, picked up the card, went into the guest room and locked the door as I cried my heart out.

It’s my daughter’s wedding ceremony in a few days, and as we work round the clock trying to ensure its a success, and an even grander one than that of her brother (my first son), I can’t but express how fulfilled and proud I am to be the mother of these children.

The last thirty years of my life that I’ve spent as a wife and mother have been filled with of a lot of ups and downs, especially the last ten; but when I look back at how things were back then and I look at how things are at the moment, all I can do is thank God for the journey so far.

Growing up in the 70′s in the Ikeja metropolis was fun – for kids whose parents allowed them go out to play. My dad passed on when I was about fifteen, so my mother automatically assumed the responsibility of being both the father and mother to myself and my other five siblings. She used to shuffle three odd jobs everyday just to make sure we all went to school and came back to meet food on the table and the price we paid for it was chores, chores and more chores whenever we got back from school and on weekends. The only time we had to play or mingle with other kids was during the thirty minute break time we had in school. I wasn’t very sound academically but I was able to force myself through secondary school and then to the prestigious University of Lagos, Akoka where I studied Business Administration.

There was a bit of freedom since I was in school on weekdays and went home only on weekends but financial constraints didn’t let me socialize the way I would have loved to. I made a few friends on the road both male and female but I didn’t get myself involved in any serious relationship with any guy because my mother advised against it as she would rather I get my degree first before committing to any relationship and I was able to uphold this moral until my final year in school when I met Akinlolu Thomas.

Akinlolu was an assistant lecturer in the Economics department who was also running his master’s program in the same course on the side. He didn’t lecture me in any course but for some reason our paths always seemed to cross. It all started with exchanging pleasantries until we got to a stage where we couldn’t go a day without checking on each other. I had fallen in love with Lolu and more because he wasn’t particular about sex. There were times when we got into compromising situations with each other but after going back and forth on it we decided to leave our relationship on a platonic level.

After bagging my degree, I was posted to Yola for the compulsory National Youth Service Corps program. The distance posed a big issue for Lolu who didn’t want me going away for that long so he pulled all the strings he could to try and get me re deployed to Lagos after the three week orientation camp but it was futile and since there were no phones back then we only used to communicate via letters, many of which I still have documented today.

I came back to Lagos soon after my service year and got a job with Sabena Airlines as a ticketing officer, while Lolu was promoted to a full time lecturer. I was earning way more than he was but it wasn’t a deterrent factor because I saw a lot of prospect in him and was even happier about the fact that he didn’t mind it. I became the favorite of my bosses and some of our clients including Ambassador Kolawole George, the then Ambassador of Nigeria to Mexico and so when Akinlolu started getting frustrated with his job, and all the applications he was putting through to other companies were not being acknowledged, I decided to speak to Ambassador Kola to see if he could use his influence help my husband. Right there, he put a call through to a friend of his in one of the old generation banks and afterwards referred my husband to him. Lolu got the job instantly but the take home pay was now an issue as it was slightly lesser than what he received as a lecturer. I encouraged him to go on with it because I know hard work always yields something no matter how little and in less than three years, he got multiple promotions.

We got married a few years later and in the preceding year welcomed out first child, a boy we named Olamipo. Months after I had the child, my mother called me over to her house to have a talk. It’s one conversation id never ever forget. She looked me in the eye and asked that I leave my husband and go somewhere else with the child to start afresh because she didn’t see him as the right husband for me.

Where is all this coming from? Didn’t you meet him before I married him? I should leave the man I love to go and start afresh with a stranger because of what you think of him? Nonsense – I thought to myself.

I stayed away from her for weeks because I didn’t want to have to listen to what I reasoned to be stupid and petty talk.

Meanwhile my marriage to Lolu continued to wax strong and everybody was happy at least until I got pregnant with our second child (my daughter who is getting married soon). It so happened that it was around the same time the airline I worked with was leaving Nigeria back for Spain and so I had to make the choice of either moving to Spain with the pregnancy and leave my young family behind in Nigeria or forfeit the job for my family. I didn’t need to think twice, family was all that mattered so I chose the latter.

It was a decision that almost proved costly.

All through the time I was working, I made sure I took care of all the domestic needs – food stuff, baby food, diapers and just every basic thing that a household would need, without asking for a dime from my husband. One year after becoming a full time house wife, I had exhausted all the money I had and for the first time since I married Lolu, I asked him for upkeep money.

What happened next wasn’t something I never thought would happen. It changed everything.

He beat me that day, so much that I started considering everything my mother said to me. I mean what right thinking man would his wife just because she asked him for money? I was very broke, my husband had turned his back on me and the only person could go to was my mother. It was a tough one to do, and going by how our last meeting ended I wasn’t expecting to have it easy with her but I had no choice. She wasn’t angry, she didn’t shove me off she only simply said a proverb to me……..

“What an elder sees sitting, a child might likely not see even with the aid of a ladder”.

And then it hit me, mother had been right all along but the circumstances were now different. I was jobless and had just had a second child for him. Walking out of the marriage at that stage wouldn’t have still been a problem because my mother and siblings had assured me that they were ready to take care of whatever needs I might have should I decide to leave, but at the back of my mind I still wanted to stay with Lolu.

What do I do? I asked myself.

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