tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53361180259897620882024-03-13T17:08:20.347+00:00Fading thoughts....Personal blogLadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.comBlogger115125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-31855062032540910782023-04-02T00:57:00.004+01:002023-04-02T00:57:51.714+01:00Time..<p>One day, you suddenly realise that time is a gift. A gift so precious it could be lost at any minute. We try so hard to hold on, however we can. We make plans for years unknown. We study so hard hoping to become something we have no idea if its supposed to be. We work long hours diligently telling ourselves that we are building a better future for ourselves and ourselves. But one thing I forget is that time is so fleeting, and could disappear in a second. Everything we ever worked so hard for, could all become meaningless. We forget to live in today and actually enjoy the time we currently have. Why the greed of making plans for so long a time? When then one that is currently being given isn't being utilised?</p><p>This is what I realised today. I have spent so long worrying, in fear, being bitter, and hoping for more time. Yet I failed to realise that I already had the right time. Just enough time to live a worthy life. Enough time to live happily. Enough to just laugh and stop to smell each rose on my way, to feel each stroke of wind on my skin, to bask in the feel of warmth that the sun radiates when it shines. I forgot that everything in life is of its own purpose, and all the Lord created were made to support the other. When was the last time I went out just because I wanted to take a breath of fresh air? Certainly not in the past 13 years. Then again, what am I really asking for more time for? Have I even enjoyed the one he has given me so far? Of what point is an underutilized time, when there are some who truly deserve it that don't get it.</p><p>If I died this minute, I don't think I would have any regrets but I am certain I would be very unhappy, not because I didn't have enough time but because I had plenty of time and didn't even recognise it.</p><p>We live in the past sometimes, looking back at the things we did right and sulking about things we did wrong. Yet on other days, we live in the future and imagine things we have no idea will ever be realised and forgetting that just because we want something doesn't mean we will get it. We pleasure ourselves prematurely into believing that there is perfection at the end of a future dream, then become shadows of ourselves once reality hits and force ourselves into depressed states. Unless it's to take something needed to live fully in the present, no one has a business looking into the past. Similarly, no one should live in the future when the present is not being lived, you have no business living in your mind while neglecting your NOW. Face your present, do what you can, and be mindful that the time you're in is fleeting, so live as such.</p><p><br /></p><p>Living in the present is the best thing anyone can ever do for themselves. Don't take time for granted, and live without excuses. Always remember that tomorrow may never come...</p>LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-54863852892668530832023-03-31T23:56:00.002+01:002023-03-31T23:56:34.611+01:00LETTER TO ME, @ 19!<p> Eyitayo, happy birthday to you!</p><p>I hope your birthday is everything you hope it would be; boring & unworthy of celebration. How do I know? Because I am YOU! Well, I used to be you, 15 years ago. I also know right now, that you're scared shitless. You are currently wondering if this year will be your last, and you're wondering if living was actually worth it if you never experienced any of the things you read & wrote about- love, partying, sex, and freedom of the mind. My advice for this? DON'T DO IT. Stop worrying and just do you. Trust me when I tell you, that you don't really like any of those things. You're classy that way. The experience wasn't worth the pain and drama. Yes, you did meet a nice boy that you convinced yourself into loving, but it truly doesn't work that way. Love, like you used to write about and failed to read yourself, is not supposed to be spoken into existence. It's just supposed to be. Your kindness, commitment and tolerance will not matter. Resist the urge to accept the challenge of love. Boys are bad for you right now, so focus on yourself, invest in self love, your religion and learn the art of being happy with oneself quicker.</p><p><br /></p><p>I do have good news for you though, we DID make it! Of course we had several close calls, but we made it out alive every time. Today, as we turn 34, I chose to write this letter to you in case it makes it way to you by some miraculous chance. I spent 15 difficult years worrying and waiting for the crisis or pain that will make me take my final breath. My precious Eyitayo, you don't have to do the same. It's okay to worry about life, but don't spend every minute of each day worried about dying. Everyone will die eventually, but having no regrets when we do die should be the aim. I need you to do better, so please live your life to the fullest!. Remember the promises we made as a little girl, that we would always be a good and responsible girl for our family? We are doing a good job of it, albeit some mistakes and misjudgements. Do not allow doubts to creep into your mind, that you are not worthy of your ambitions and dreams. The doubt and fear will slowly kill you from within, faster than sickle cell anemia.</p><p><br /></p><p>As of today, in the year 2023, I am finding it very difficult to remember who you are, what you enjoyed, things you loved to do, and what you are interested in. I really did lose my way and allowed my mind to live for me, in fear. Please do not make the same mistake I did. Live in the present, enjoy every moment, love with your heart fully & completely, and trust cautiously. Don't be pressured into doing what you never wanted to do, believe me, we spent the past 15 years hurting inside, disappointed in ourselves, and wishing we hadn't. Sometimes, we have even gone as far as self-loathing, so do you see why investing hugely in loving yourself is important? We still don't believe in regrets, but we have a difficult time reconciling with some of our actions. Right now Eyitayo, you haven't made much, but if you listen to me, you might be able to keep it that way.</p><p><br /></p><p>Do you remember when I said that boys are bad for you now? You might wonder, at 19? Calm down darling, you did not suddenly become a lesbian. I am telling you to give yourself more time. Learn more about yourself and pay close attention to your stress triggers. We found that boys trigger us emotionally which sometimes makes the pain come.</p><p>You have to prepare yourself sweetheart, because there's a storm brewing up towards you right now. This is what changed us completely in the course of time. At 34, we have been to the theatre about 7 times. I'm not proud to say this, but I did not handle it well for us, so I think I should equip you with the important information you need to sail through.</p><p><br /></p><p>1) In a few months (precisely September 2008), you will have acute chest syndrome for the first time and slip into a coma. You will be rejected for fear of dying by a hospital, but pay no attention to that; you spent almost 2 weeks in a coma attached to a life support machine; many cells in your body would begin to shut down and you would miraculously wake with a PCV lower of about 5% ; you'll miss the planned trip to the US but let go of that disappointment quickly; you spent months recuperating in the hospital and at home, making you resume your final year a little late; and what probably hurt you most was the beautiful textured voice you lost, this made you stop singing to even soothe your pain. Please DO NOT EVER stop singing to make yourself better!.</p><p>2) Almost immediately after your 20th birthday in March 2009 (barely 4 months after your late resumption), you will begin to have extremely painful aches, that will get worse with each passing day, making it difficult to walk, study, drive and focus. This will make you reliant on ibuprofen and Diclofenac a lot. During one of the really bad episodes, you will admit yourself at the University teaching hospital and a nurse will tell you about pentazocine injection, and how it would help you manage your crisis by yourself. Please sweetness, DO NOT LISTEN TO HER. </p><p>3) Also, do not ignore those pains as mere chronic crisis. Nothing is supposed to hurt that much. You endured it in silence while popping ibuprofen pills for almost 7 months. On October 22nd 2009 (on the exact day you resumed uni in 2005), you will be diagnosed with Avascular necrosis of both hips and your condition would have detoriated badly by then. Both hips would be rapidly collapsing and the hip bone would be resting on jagged edges of the femur. Fear not, you will eventually get a total hip replacement in May and July 2010 for each hip. My advice though, please DO NOT fight the pain. It's unending, so just allow it to run its course. DO NOT refuse help when it's offered and DON'T shut down just because people say sorry to you. You pushed out every one away from your life, and even your family barely made it. Jummie is the only one whose love and devotion was unwavering. She stuck by you and refused to leave. She drowned you in so much love, and never treated you different from usual. STOP being so damn strong as to think you can take on anything or pain, this made you refuse using crutches, for a mere walking stick, for several months until you could no longer stand.</p><p>4) You made it through school. Graduated with a second class lower against all odds, and submitted an incredible research project that was accepted by physiological societies around the world. Mr Kazeem had to go defend that by himself due to your condition but he was genuinely a big brother to you all through uni. You deferred your NYSC, but still had to do it with crutches. You no longer travelled to Ontario to major in blood physiology, so I suggest you begin to make a backup plan. You ended up working for Daddy, and even though you gave it your all & did the work incredibly, it also did not help you psychologically.</p><p>5) When you became ready to get better, you went to Kaduna at 32, and met the most incredible team of fellows/friends ever. Your name became Athena, so you can start using it already since it is the most amazing nickname ever (plus no one ever gave you a nickname anyways)</p><p>6) After your 2 surgeries in 2010, as well as almost 2 months hospital stay due to complications during surgery, INSIST on going for therapy for your mental health. You looked okay, but you really weren't. The entire ordeal left you in self doubt, and great fear. Talk to someone about your nightmares, take out time to heal, and CRY! Cry your lungs out Eyitayo. Crying doesn't make you weak, it only signifies acceptance & empathy. None of what happened was ever your fault. God is not so cruel, so DON'T you dare blame him. He had his plans for us. He wanted us to be stronger for the many more years we had ahead, so DON'T stop praying like I did SONT stop believing in HIM, because your entire life journey alone is a miracle worth testimony. I mentioned that you would wish you never had a boyfriend earlier because you began to tell yourself that if only you never had a boyfriend, maybe you wouldn't have an acute chest syndrome that night, and maybe you wouldn't have slipped into a coma, and maybe the avascular necrosis wouldn't have come... But if all that hadn't happened, what might have happened? Stroke? Organ failure? Death?</p><p>7) DO NOT ever forget who you are my love, because currently, we are struggling with your identity.</p><p>8) DO NOT allow your parents to transfer their fears unto you. Allow them to love you & love them back, but live your own life and follow your dreams. DO NOT allow anyone to tell you that you're incapable of doing anything. </p><p>9) If you could see us now, you would be disappointed. We did everything wrong and became all the things you said you never wanted to be. We have been working for dad since NYSC in 2010 (over 12 years), and spent 11 of those years always high on pentazocine injection. As I said earlier, DO NOT LISTEN to that nurse. Even though you didn't take the injection throughout the excruciatingly painful period, you began to fear pain every crisis after that felt like another terrible pain waiting to happen and you turned towards injection for the first time in 2011, after the entire ordeal. If you find yourself in a situation, become too overwhelmed and make the mistake of taking the injection, don't be disappointed at yourself, just seek help for us immediately. I wish I had done that quicker, but always remember that your life is a precious cargo my darling.</p><p>10) Finally, ALWAYS listen to your sister. She has only the best advice and intentions for you. She is indeed our world and everything we love in it.</p><p>The ONLY thing we did right in the past 15 years, is never allowing our smile to wither away. We have smiled through it all, and are still smiling.</p><p>HAPPY 19TH BIRTHDAY TO YOU, AND 34TH BIRTHDAY TO US, EYITAYO. ALWAYS REMEMBER TO NEVER LEAVE YOUR SMILE BEHIND!!!!</p><p><br /></p><p>All my love,</p><p>Your future self!..</p>LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-37608467533474887042023-02-23T16:43:00.005+00:002023-02-23T18:10:29.514+00:00Finding Help <p>Yesterday (22/02/2023), I celebrated my 6th month of sobriety. To many, it didn’t seem a big deal but to me, it meant the world. The significance was much more than the sobriety to me, it is the strength I have exhibited. I went back, reflected and reminisced on my life, my journey and my choices. Oh yes, I have made so many mistakes in my life, and I totally take responsibility for my choices, albeit bad or good. However, becoming an addict unknowingly at 22 wasn’t what I signed up for. All I wanted at the time, was a moment of reprieve from pain. I had been through and seen a lot and the worst of it, in very little time, so I just wanted it all to stop, for a minute, just a break maybe?…</p><p>I had spent so much time at the hospital and this injection was administered on me over and over and over again. Every time I was discharged, I got the injection before leaving the hospital. And then, I was expected to use tablets that no longer had any effect on my excruciating pain? The pain of both my hips collapsing daily is by far still the worst I have ever had but the pain I felt in my heart after that ordeal, ended up being worse. I genuinely thought it was over for me in 2009/2010, even though I maintained a strong front for the family. I felt betrayed, I felt abandoned, I blamed myself for not being strong enough, I blamed God for not keeping HIS promises to me. I was only 21 with a frightening fear that I was living my final year on earth, had two major surgeries while opting to stay awake on both occasions, and then had complications with the second one, stayed in an hospital bed for about 2 months while recuperating, did physiotherapy through the pain, and had to learn how to walk all over again like a baby. I went for my youth service after the first surgery but before the second, meaning I was in a lot of pain and had to use crutches for most of my service year. Funny as it sounds, all through this journey, I never took injection by myself. I wore my pain like a badge of honour and felt it deep in my bones. Till this day, if anyone asks me why I stayed awake during major surgeries that I was warned about because listening to the drills and feeling the cuts and seeing the blood could lead me to a cardiac arrest. I would always give the same response as I did to my doctors then- that I didn’t want to mistakenly find solace in the darkness and slip away nor did I want to wake up and realise that the thought of being pain free was just a dream. My second surgery was harder than the first and we ended up spending more than 4 hours on a surgery that took only 2 hours during the first one I did 3 months prior. Like every scared girl, I panicked during the surgery after 3 hours, because I thought something was terribly wrong, making my BP rise. They almost knocked me out for fear of my life, so I began to talk to them about my sister. I was so tired though, and I made a plea to God to make the suffering stop!</p><p>Now I look back and wonder why I decided to find solace in pain relieving injections after I had gotten both surgeries done rather than before, and it still comes down to the same thing- PAIN. The complications I had, took me back to the theatre and I was so disappointed that my wellness had to come with a catch, that I simply zoned out psychologically. I had prayed to never go through such again but I had to be taken into the theatre barely two weeks later. I had accepted my fate and was ready for death whenever it came knocking</p><p>I used to be a young girl with great plans. I thought I had the world at my feet, I felt like I could do anything I put my mind to, and then it all crashed when life happened making a heavy dose of realisation hit. I was unable to go for my master’s, was forced to work for my father (even though I ended up doing it well), was not allowed to pursue any of my numerous dreams, and my life seemed to only be ridden in pain… And now I ask myself, why I turned to using injections. I was frustrated from the very start. Maybe hiding my frustrations made me avoid depression for as long as I possibly could, but I couldn’t run away from it forever. I saw my life as a pathetic excuse, I wallowed myself deep in self-pity, I forgot about the great times & privileges life had given me and allowed two seasons of constant tribulations to shape my life.</p><p>I admit that the first time I ever used it by myself was because I was having crisis pains. Okay, maybe the second and third times too but I now understand that the only reason I had so much pain in the first place was because my heart was aching. I had nobody to talk to and I didn’t want to sulk. My sister is the only one that had a little idea of my genuine emotions but even she was left out of many because I couldn’t bear to make her worry AGAIN! I recall my anaesthetist during my first surgery, Mr Ou Falayi, spoke to me after the surgery. He said he was genuinely shocked at the thought of someone so happy and always smiling even though I was in too much pain. “How can you be so bubbly and happy about all these, have you even considered the psychological implications of everything?” I never answered the question but told him my smile was all I had and that I refused to loose it. We spoke a lot after that and he managed to distract me quite often. He also made me avoid conversation about sickle cell anaemia and the upcoming 2nd surgery, but everything stopped suddenly, only for me to hear a few months later that he had died. Till today, I wish I had entertained the discussion, maybe he knew something I didn’t…</p><p>My head told me over and over and over again that I was in pain only because my heart was deeply troubled, making my stress levels high. I didn’t know how to cope with the several stress triggers I was experiencing, so I did what I did best to cope, I wrote different genres and poured a little bit of my hurts in each, but it was never enough. It was after my 30th birthday that I realised that I needed to get help. That was when I finally forgave myself for something that never in my control, but realising you need help and getting it are two different things. Now the challenge was letting my family know about my dependence on pain relieving injections and then experiencing the same disappointments I did years ago, only it was directed at me this time. Then I tried being strong and stopping by myself, because it’s as easy as that right? Just stop it the way you began it, but no it wasn’t. I almost killed myself in the process, so I continued. At 32 when I decided to take a chance and go to Kaduna for a whole year for Kashim Ibrahim Fellowship, my entire life changed. I was reminded about who I used to be and how much I loved life. I remembered how hard I used to laugh at silly things. I loved everything around me that was natural, things I stopped caring for. I began to remember slowly, how hard I worked and fought for what I wanted.</p><p>Today, I realise that I actually stopped enjoying life and simply existed in life. I stopped pursuing my dreams and passions. I stopped feeling true emotions. The minute I picked up that injection 12 years ago, was the day my life paused. I took the step six months ago with only sheer determination and fear to kick-start my life again. It has been extremely difficult and challenging mostly because there is a demon always trying and lurking around my mind, hoping I would fail, BUT my mama never raised a failure so I keep surviving and taking it a day as it comes.</p><p>I allowed sickle cell anaemia and the self pity that accompanies it to trap me in an unending cycle of medication abuse and when pentazocine gave me a bit of timeout from the pain, worries, hurts and stress, I took it without thinking twice.</p><p>I know many people like me are currently experiencing this? Since my journey, I have found that most sickle cell Warriors self inject/medicate. We want to be stronger, we hide our pains, we want to prove that we aren’t different from others but guess what? We ARE different, because we are stronger than they can ever know, and there is a deep beauty in difference. I implore you to please seek help, it's not your fault. All you did was become a victim of the bad system in this country. I only heard of that injection from a nurse, and I should have been weaned off it before hospital discharge. Having someone to talk to sometimes helps with making such decisions, so feel free to contact me in private. We can find help for you together (WhatsApp 08081201705)</p><p>I used to think that I couldn’t live without pain relieving injections but now I know better. Now I know it was simply a way to keep me enslaved because I have lived without it for 6 beautiful months, and I have never felt better! This is how I know you can do it too.</p><p> To the closest people that I have hurt greatly through the years, I sincerely apologize and I hope you can all find a way to forgive me someday.</p><p><br /></p><p>Con Amor</p><p>MissEyitayo </p><p><br /></p>LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-84578001969932528952022-06-21T01:12:00.001+01:002022-06-21T01:12:52.167+01:00WORLD SICKLE CELL DAY (CELEBRATION OR CONDEMNATION??)<p> <span style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">Before
coming to Kaduna for the fellowship, the biggest fear was Sickle cell Anemia,
and this is the way it has been since my parents first found out I am </span><i style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">Sickler
</i><span style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">(at age 5), I remember the day just like yesterday. It was on June 12, and
I recall there were riots all around town. My father had been transferred to
Abuja for work (CBN) so that meant my sister and I were home alone with my mom
and an aunt I vaguely remember. I remember the fear in my mother’s eyes that
day, not quite different from the fear I still see in her to date. I was in a
lot of pain, crying, and unable to move my limbs, and my mom had no idea how to
help me when even she herself did not know there was something called Sickle
cell anaemia. I vaguely remember that there was no way to get transportation
that day, and everyone was scared to go to the streets. I remember my mom
backing me and walking a very long distance just to get me to a hospital. I
also remember a good Samaritan stopping with a bike to help us but having to
drop us on the way because the roads were blocked by rioters. I was in pain,
but I remembered the smoke everywhere from burnt tyres, I remember the broken
bottles all over the floor and the sticks. I remembered hearing the noise from
a distance, although I think that was more to the pain because I know my mom
had to pass by the rioters to get me the medical attention I needed. That was
one of my earliest memories, and I recall thinking that the day was a
rollercoaster ride. Which is not very different from what my life became after
that. It was like the clogs were finally removed and there was a big reveal.
Oh, there is something called genotype, and sickle cell is a popular condition
in Nigeria. During that crisis, they only focused on me getting better, but
after that, my father came home, and we all went to the CBN staff hospital
where we sat through a brief lecture on SCD.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sickle
cell anaemia is an inherited blood defect where the red blood cells in the
haemoglobin are sickled shape, meaning the normal round shape of red blood cells
becomes like crescent moons. Round red blood cells can move easily through the
blood vessels but sickle-shaped cells interconnect and can result in blood
clots. These blood clots can cause extreme pain in the back, chest, hands, and
feet. The disrupted blood flow can also cause damage to bones, muscles, and
organs. People with sickle cell disease often feel weak, tired and look pale.
The whites of the eyes and skin often have a yellowish tint: a distinct feature
that made us easily recognizable, but not me. My mother did everything in her
power to ensure I was not always with yellow eyes (except during very painful crises). She tried everything she could lay her hands on, medical and herbal,
and it worked because, by the time I got into secondary school, It was very hard
for my teachers (and doctors) to guess I was a <i>Sickler</i> just by looking
at me. That’s probably how my parents got away with hiding my health from the
entire world (family-inclusive). I didn’t really think much about it back then, but
now, I know they were trying to protect me as much as themselves. The thing is that
sickle cell anaemia patients still face a lot of stigmatization even to date.
It is saddening, but that is just how the world is. Parents separate their
children from <i>sicklers</i> because they do not want them getting sick: as if
SCD is a transmissible disease that can be passed just by being close to
someone. Friends usually systematically withdraw themselves from <i>Sicklers</i>
as soon as they witness a crisis. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">CRISIS
is another very frequent part of a sickle cell patient’s life. It doesn’t warn
you, but it has a way of knocking you off your feet. You can go to bed healthy
and get woken in a few hours by pain. I got used to the pain very quickly,
especially because I always saw fear in my sister’s eyes and tears on my
mother’s face. I wanted to assure them that was alright, so I found myself
hiding my pains but of course, mommy always knew somehow. It was just her superpower,
having the gift to recognize when either of her daughters was not 100%
alright.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
am 33 years old, and the Kashim Ibrahim Fellowship is the most exciting part of my life.
It was the best decision I could have made at this point, and I will forever
treasure the experiences I have had the privilege of having, with the incredible
people I have met during the new journey. Today is World Sickle Cell Day, and I
felt compelled to pen down something about the condition. Just like a doctor
said today at the awareness program we had at KASU (Kaduna State University),
no one can describe how sickle cell anaemia feels except the patient. There is
no truer statement. I recall someone asking the doctor to explain/describe to
him what the pain really was like so he would be able to sympathise with a
friend of his. A warrior (SCD patient) sitting close to me did say she would
rather go into labour every year than feel the crisis pain when they came
knocking. I decided to explain what the pain feels like to the young man that
asked if he’s reading this: My crisis pain, as I once described to a doctor, is
excruciating. It feels like I have a fracture in multiple parts of my body,
only it's even more painful than that. It feels like my bones are being broken
at the joints and it becomes very difficult to raise any limb. It feels like
fire is set on me, with the discomfort and it even becomes difficult to get a
comfortable position. Now imagine all these happening all at once: the multiple
fractures, the broken bones, and a blazing fire to get the party exciting. And
then when a pain reliever does give you a sense of relief and are finally able
to rest, it sometimes feels calm and peaceful, just like an ocean before the
storm hits- you wake up after maybe 2 hours and the pain hits you boldly in the
face all over again… No 2 crisis pain was similar, and no 2 sickle cell
warriors fight the same battle; none of us has it easy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As
human beings, it is a known fact that we fear things we do not understand, the way my boyfriend’s parents told him they would disown him if he ever made me his
wife. See, I understood their fears, and even though my mother was angry, I
confronted her with the truth that she would have probably forbidden her son
(had she had any) from being with a <i>Sickler </i>had she been in their shoes.
A lot of reactions toward Sickle Cell Anaemia are made by an uninformed
society. A society unwilling to alter its sentiments would rather punish 55% of the population for a disease that isn’t their fault by stigmatizing them.
As though the battles we fight daily are not enough for us to contend with…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Bodoni MT",serif;">I recall a bright Thursday morning
(at @least in the hospital) like it happened yesterday and it has been 12 years
now. The nurses came to me; "Eyitayo, it's time" they said before
handing me a theatre gown. I looked at it and asked if we couldn't wait just a bit
longer, that I wanted to see my parents before going with them. I had just
turned 21 and I honestly felt like that year was going to be my last. I said a
short prayer, for my family, that HE grants them the strength to accept the
loss if the surgery went bad.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Bodoni MT",serif;">Exactly 2 months and 3weeks prior to
that, I had had my right hip replaced in the same theatre. You would think that
the surgery being successful the first time would have reassured me that everything
would be fine, but it didn’t. I genuinely believed in my heart that something
bad would happen. I had convinced myself that I couldn’t really be so lucky
twice in a row, could I? After all, what right did I have to request such a miracle from God? I stayed awake through the procedure, just as I did a few
months prior because I did not want to be sedated and never wake up. I don’t
know why it was so important to me back then, but I insisted on it. After two
hours of being in the theatre, my left leg was still being pulled. I recall
feeling a very sharp pain, as the mechanical sound of a drill made my blood
pressure rise, before calling the attention of the anaesthetist to the pain.
She gave me another shot of injection through the thin tube inserted in my
spine, and I went numb below once again. I remember looking at the time and
wondering if my fears were finally coming through. I had to ask the surgeons if
anything was wrong, and they tried reassuring me that I would be fine, in a bit
to lower my blood pressure that had spiked. A surgery that should have taken 2 hours
turned into 3, and then 4, and I remember how tired I felt. I was very weak,
with very little hope, and it felt like all I just wanted to do was rest. I recall
just wanting to sleep and really rest for the first time in almost a year of
being in constant excruciating pain; a pain I had to suck up to write my final
exams and defend my final project! It felt so good to be pain-free, so I only
wanted to sleep peacefully, and I began to. My blood pressure suddenly went
very low, and I vaguely remember the machine attached to my body screaming like
a siren. I don’t know what brought me back, but I know it was the thought of my
sister that kept me awake after that. I imagined how she would never forgive me
if I went to rest forever. I thought of my parents, and how heartbroken they would
be. So, I gave myself the courage again (as I usually do) to be strong (for
them).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">At
the end of today’s event, it certainly felt like more people understand sickle
cell anaemia better now, and they sounded ready to make changes. Maybe if the
regular man resets his brain about what sickle cell anaemia is, how it feels, how to help, and especially how not to help society stigmatize them, maybe
we will begin to get it right. Approximately 5% of the entire population of the
world, has sickle cell anaemia, and 90% of that is found in Nigeria, India, and the Republic of Congo. Sub-Saharan Africa has 75% of the burden of sickle cell
anaemia in the world, and of that, 66% belongs to Nigeria alone. This alone should tell you that we have a problem and we’re still not doing something
right. We need to shine more light on sickle cell anaemia, maybe it will help
reduce the rapid increase of the burden in the country. Imagine having a well-equipped<b> Sickle Cell Center around the State, with an emergency sickle
cell unit, where there are many qualified doctors that know how to help the
patients.</b> If I do find myself in a position to make such things happen, I
will, and I will make the centre a blessing to the state because we would
transform the state’s image as the perfect health tourism destination for
sickle cell anaemia patients from all over the Nation, as well as entice them
with the promise of cheaper total hip replacement surgeries (and even
subsidized stem cell transplant procedures). But then again, if only wishes
were horses…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sickle
Cell Disorder has been for me, more of a strength than a weakness and although
I have yearned for better health all my life, I wouldn’t have it any other way
if the alternative is to go to rest permanently. However, I often weep for
those that do not have the same privilege I have had, and are without the means of
living as healthy a life as they can. World sickle cell day takes place
annually on the 19<sup>th</sup> of June, and it has always been
celebrated/acknowledged, but is it really making a difference? Are there any
changes between where sickle cell anaemia was 20 years ago and this year? Is
anyone actually listening to us?...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Amasis MT Pro",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">- MissEyitayo Oladejo (Sickle Cell Warrior)</p>LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-57374698893710622722020-01-22T03:13:00.001+00:002020-01-22T03:13:14.991+00:00UnCommon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u8U0ZIox4EQ/Xie9upSO43I/AAAAAAAAjxc/ZaCVTfkFHTku4zRc2SUGYOIMr7fOfjVbACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/images%2B%25288%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="262" data-original-width="193" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u8U0ZIox4EQ/Xie9upSO43I/AAAAAAAAjxc/ZaCVTfkFHTku4zRc2SUGYOIMr7fOfjVbACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/images%2B%25288%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />As much as it interests everyone to have the fairytale kind of love, we have to be honest that not everyone will. There are some that will be absolutely unlucky in their choices with divorce or death being the only way out, some will be forced into single parenting, some will die single because they refuse to lower their expectations and are being told to have faith, others will claim to have been pushed into being lesbians because men weren’t forthcoming. On the sidelines, however, are the small group that is realists and are aggressively honest with themselves. They do not believe in love at first sight nor do they believe in fairytales. They know that relationships take hard work, and are willing to do it if they found someone as willing as they, to do it with. It is in this group that I, unfortunately, find myself.<br />As a child, I used to be wary of topics that dwelled on marriages, although a childish part of me wanted the prince charming tales to be true. The more I hoped to one day meet my charming prince, the more I told myself there were no such things in reality. I knew from a young age that men would always cheat, they would always nag, and they will never be completely satisfied. I had watched my parents closely and I learned. As a father, my dad has always been the greatest but as a husband? He wasn’t exactly charming… Yet my mom worked hard on the marriage, and she managed to keep it together. I watched my mom work tirelessly to become compatible with her husband, and I took down notes.<br />I learned that there is nothing like “compatibility” in relationships. Compatibility on its own is a choice. When you make a conscious decision to be with someone, and you work together with the sole purpose of keeping your relationship, then you start being compatible. It does take 2 Afterall, to tangle.<br />I learned more just by watching other people than on my own- especially when I barely ever experience anything different from my “norm”. This prepared me for the harsh realities of being in relationships so I always kept my expectations low. So low, that I never believed any man could be faithful or loyal to a woman nor did I believe that any man could be totally trusted. I tried as much as possible to be close friends with my men and only asked for their complete honesty. I would like to know when you are cheating on me, and the escapades you have with the guys. That was my genius plan to having my own happy ever after. Somehow though, they still couldn’t manage to tell the truth even to a girl willing to take as much bullshit as she could (However, abuse of any form, is certainly not included in the relationship agreement and will never be condoned). Obviously, my single status for the past 5 years is proof that I didn’t find men willing to work hard enough for a stable relationship.<br />Did I mention relationships are hard work? And dating is even harder. Now humour me with this;<br />While dating and being confused about making the “right choice”, I meet a complete stranger that I am attracted to. Maybe not totally a stranger, but I had only ever met him from a distance. So, we got talking, chatting, and getting to know a bit more about each other. It was no secret that there was a sizzling passion brewing between us and it felt like it would explode. In three weeks of constant communication and hangouts, we decided to throw caution in the wind and get married. We both belong to the group of realists and we both wanted to make it work. We knew society would judge us, so we kept it secret. In the fourth week of our meeting, we went to the registry with a friend each as witnesses. We took our vows, and exchanged rings, becoming one for all eternity. Of course, we had our wedding night, and neither of us was disappointed. We returned back to our previous lives- me, as a single girl living with her parents & him, a bachelor devoted to his work and flirting with girls. We did not see often, but we knew our truth deep in our hearts. We were married before we began to get to know each other well, but we stuck together anyway because we were committed to the same cause.<br />It was a year later when I realised I was expecting our first child, that we informed our families of it all. We did a small traditional ceremony, for our families. They felt completely shut out of our lives, so we sort of appeased them with a wedding ceremony they could participate in. It’s been 10years, and we are still going strong. We still respect and love each other as we have always done, and we are still committed to making it work. Was I lucky? Yes, but I worked very hard for it!<br /><br />Commitment is the reason two strangers come together and remain together!<div>
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Con Amor</div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-90099619114013833912020-01-22T02:52:00.001+00:002020-01-22T02:52:32.397+00:00Victimised VillainThe day Folahan proposed to me, was the happiest day of my life. He went all out to make it a memorable and special one. There was chocolates, flowers, wine, great food and afterwards, incredible sex. He promised me a lifetime of love, affection, attention, and passion. He made me feel like Cinderella being charmed by the prince. Indeed, he was my Mr Perfect timing all wrapped in a delicious chocolate form. My life was sailing on the right track, exactly the way it should and when it should. I was on top of the world.<br />We got married six months after the most beautiful proposal, in a very glam ceremony. People came from far and wide to be a part of our day, as well as celebrate with us. It was exceptional! Life was beautiful, as you can imagine…<br />Three weeks later, and I had begun to question everything I knew. Folahan had become a totally different person. He spent his days making me feel worthless and spent the nights giving various doses of “discipline”. I began to question my knowledge of what love meant. I wondered if this truly was how men portrayed their affection to their wives.<br />Once, after a really long day at work (before I was forced to resign), I got home tired but still attempted doing all my chores for the night for the fear of being slapped against the wall. I put in the extra effort that night to make his favourite meal, just to avoid any sort of confrontations, pounded yam and egusi soup. That night, the first slap I received was because I did not get to the door as fast as he wanted. My explanations of getting dinner ready for him earned me a second slap across the cheek, “why is dinner still in the kitchen, and not already served on the table?” he said. At the end of that day, he dragged me out of the kitchen where I was cleaning to bed, had his way with me forcefully regardless of my tired state, woke me up an hour earlier than usual with an early morning beating because the kitchen was untidy (forgetting that he stopped me from doing just that). A typically normal day, now that I think about it.<br />An example of a bad day would be one where he beat me blue and black for visiting a friend or speaking to a man- any man. A truly terrible day would have him come home drunk and unleash all his anger on me. On days like these, I get to be verbally abused, beaten thoroughly, and raped by my husband.<br />This is a man I have loved passionately for many years. All the efforts invested, and the emotions?. I entrusted my life to this man, I gave him my all- my body, my soul, my spirit. I sailed on a journey to forever land with a complete stranger. A stranger that I vowed to love and cherish, above everyone else, till death do us apart. I am completely spent and drained from so much hurt, from pain, and all the tears. I have willed myself to fight back for the sake of my unborn child. I should probably tell you about my other pregnancies. Four times…. Four freaking times, Folahan has beat my babies out of me, all in the space of 3 years. This is my fifth conception and I'll be damned if I give him the power to take it from me again.<br />Then leave, many of you would say. Well, I tried to once, after I lost my third pregnancy. In fact, I had resolved to divorce him. I went home to my parents and told them my plight. Naturally, they were angry and disappointed in Folahan so they sent for him. When he came, what I saw totally shocked me. Folahan had changed; his attitude, countenance, talk, walk, everything took me back 5years. He was the absolute gentleman that chased me relentlessly years ago. He was sweet, kind and romantic. In short, he was the total opposite of everything I told my parents. He had made me look like a liar in the presence of my family. He gave them some bull story about us having a lovers spat, and got them empathising with him. It was like a drama unfolding before me, and even before it happened, I knew where it would end:- me, going back to his house as a patient and tolerant wife.<br />A small part of me hoped, really hoped that my husband had changed for good, possibly at the thought of losing me but my gut kept telling me it was shortlived. And it was. As soon as Folahan drove me back home from my parent’s, the beatings came more frequently and worse. I covered up my pain, my bruises, and my heartbreak.<br />I had gotten to the point of being suicidal until I found out that I was pregnant for the fifth time in my marriage. Loosing this was not an option, nor was letting him find out about it.<br />So, I made a plan and patiently waited.<br />It was one of those drunken nights that Folahan made a total mess of himself. As usual, I got a verbal insult when I opened the door and tried to help him. I really did not mean to hurt him that day, but all that changed when he looked up from the water I had just given him and decided it was my body he wanted for dinner. I tried to pull away, but he held on tight and I could see the anger rising in the depth of his eyes. So I changed tactics, knowing that a violent rape may kill the little one, I smiled at him and stripped (maybe it was a fantasy come true… ), because he smiled like a predator who had finally cornered its prey. I chose not to allow this one night get violent at all. I got atop my husband and gave him my genuine consent for the first time in our marriage. The sex was explosive, and orgasm even better. For a man that came home almost in a drunken state, Folahan seemed more alert and happy, but I had gotten my chance. It was time for my freedom and I wasn’t going to let it pass me by. He wanted to go another round, and if I refused, I would still get raped. I quickly told him I was thirsty and went to the kitchen. I made a cup of coffee for my husband and grounded some sodium cyanide into it. I got myself a glass of juice and did the same thing. When I got back to the room, Folahan was more than ready to go the second round, he was actually stroking himself. His manhood seemed to spring alive when its owner looked at me. I sat beside him on the bed and gave him a bright smile, told him I made him coffee for his tipsiness and he accepted it. He drank the coffee halfway and immediately dived for me. I left the mango juice I had poisoned on the bedside table, and next to the coffee. I gave him what he wanted so badly- a consented sex, with him on top. I told him to take it easy because I was going nowhere, and he obliged. Eventually, we ended up making love and a part of me was beginning to regret my action. Maybe it was too soon? Maybe I shouldn’t have? maybe he would change for good? As I battled with my conscience, Folahan climaxed and hung on to me for a few seconds before he rolled off me and took a large swig of the very cold juice. I slept in his arms that night. When I woke up, my husband had stopped breathing beside me. He was dead! Finally! But I felt no joy, I wasn’t elated, nothing… I just seemed indifferent somehow. I got out of bed and made the phone calls I was expected to make. The police, his parents, my parents and his best friend. I removed the cup of coffee and juice that I had poisoned, poured the remnant away and washed the glasses. Then, I went back upstairs with a half glass of water to replace the poisoned glass. I removed the unused cyanide from the kitchen and flushed it. Afterwhich, I put my pregnancy test result on the bedside table close to Folahan’s body. Then I waited calmly for the tears to come, his family, and the ambulance.<br />My story?<br />He was angry that I did not make his favourite meal the day before, so throughout today, he refused to eat my food. He then went out clubbing with his boys, got back really late and tipsy, but was elated when I gave him the news of our unborn child. We made love and slept in each other’s arm until I awoke and found him dead.<div>
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Con Amor</div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-4045882491223274012020-01-22T02:43:00.000+00:002020-01-22T02:43:08.521+00:00Confessions of the sinful saint #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6qP3FN7rH4/Xie2stWrOTI/AAAAAAAAjxQ/OU9dJC5RUog4PWijFOxY_6ZHFwe1k1uYQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20619401-great-love-of-young-cute-couple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="197" data-original-width="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6qP3FN7rH4/Xie2stWrOTI/AAAAAAAAjxQ/OU9dJC5RUog4PWijFOxY_6ZHFwe1k1uYQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20619401-great-love-of-young-cute-couple.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />Talk!<div>
We did, and what he told me hurt a lot more than seeing him with another woman that morning. Rokan told me that I was a nobody, literally. He admitted to consciously starting our relationship as a mere fling, and how he ended up falling in love with me. He told me how many sleepless nights he had been through, because of his guilt and confused state. He told me everything sweet and reassuring, but I am still the “trash” in his life. I am the side chick, the mistress, the lover, the kept woman, the secret. I have been sitting on the other side of the fence and I didn’t even know it. The other woman, that many girlfriends curse for even existing at all.<div>
Rokan and the lady I saw that morning had been dating for over 6years. She is the one every member of his family knew as “wifey”, asides the small exception of his kid sister and brother (only members of his family I knew). He described their relationship in detail to me, and how much help she rendered when he was struggling to educate himself. He admitted to loving her a lot until he met me. According to him, her family had begun prepping for an engagement that they believed would take place between them sometime that year. He knelt before me and begged me for mercy. The way he wept like a newborn drew my heart to him, and I held him in my arms while trying to make sense of it all. We ended up making love right there in the living room.<br /><br />Some time has passed since then, and we sort of went back to our routine. Of course, things had changed. I was more conscious of the danger I was in- (emotionally, physically, spiritually and psychologically), and less confident of his love for me. This is the man, the only man that has given me amazing experiences. He has loved me, respected my intellect and worshipped my body. This is the man that makes my world brighter when he was around. He made the butterflies in my tummy blush. Rokan has made my life meaningful in the past year that we have been dating. I know that I should have left him since I found out I was his side girl, but he has given me a reason to truly live. I just can't stop loving him, and I am not even willing to let go of him. The feeling was mutual, but he also felt indebted to the other woman. He had stopped saying it to my face that he was also in love with her, but I knew he was. He loved that woman a lot, only I have no idea if it is as much as he loves me or less. I knew what the right thing to do was- leave the couple alone to spend their lives happily ever after. But I can’t. I wasn’t willing to leave him as it might jeopardise my sanity. He is my first and only. My body yearns for his, and only his touch. He’s the man I connect with on every level, next to perfection. He has become a drug for my addiction. Hell, he IS my addiction! How can I give him up to another? Is it selfish of me? Is it wicked? Is it stupid, or irresponsible? Is it wrong? Is it worst of all sins?… I have beaten myself up over this for the past couple of months, but I choose my own happiness. I know that every principle I represent opposes what I currently am, and I will probably come to hate myself more than I already have, but I choose to be selfish this time. I want to satisfy me first, before anyone else. None of these changes the fact that I am the other woman, but Rokan keeps giving me a sense of hope with his love. It's like I only exist in my own little bubble of the world now. This happiness can’t only be my imagination, can it? I try to ignore many things, but how can I ignore this life that is inhibited, and without a promise of tomorrow?.<br />One day at a time, he says “Baby, let’s just take each day as it comes”…</div>
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...Con Amor</div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-10398620193539731462020-01-22T02:38:00.003+00:002020-01-22T02:38:32.858+00:00Confessions of the sinful saint #1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_3KFNzNELtI/Xie1nA08A_I/AAAAAAAAjxE/j0REmOZdQO8BUHWffAXQ5FrxMxQEaTLFACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/28292977-concept-love-present-with-wine-cork-figures.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_3KFNzNELtI/Xie1nA08A_I/AAAAAAAAjxE/j0REmOZdQO8BUHWffAXQ5FrxMxQEaTLFACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/28292977-concept-love-present-with-wine-cork-figures.jpg" /></a></div>
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Having spent all my life differentiating wrong from right, it is a wonder how I found myself in my current predicament. I never would have thought in a million years, that the woman I was staring at in the mirror would be me. But was it really? Of course, I recognize my body standing there, my own hands are what I see holding myself, it is my eyes I see, clouded in its depth with sadness and pain, staring back at me in the mirror. How I have become this woman I stare at, is what beats me. How did I completely let go of all my principles, my right and wrong? How did I get things so wrong? How did I become this? The other woman…<br />When I became the other woman is a good place to start. I was 22 years old when I first met Rokan at a mutual friend’s party. The party was legit. Every important Corper in Lagos state was there. It was the last party we would attend before passing out and collecting our NYSC certificates the next day. Rokan and I were introduced at the party, and it’s safe to say that we hit it right up. We spent hours talking and laughing as though we had known each other for ages. We just connected in a way I had never done with any other, before. It was extraordinary. It was like something sprang alive inside me when he hugged me that night.<br />Rokan and I began our love affair shortly after that. Everything with him just felt right. He couldn’t go wrong as far as I was concerned. I got a job with a bank, that coincidentally was just two blocks away from Rokan’s place of work. With this development, our relationship got even stronger (if that’s possible). We went to work together, had lunch together, and returned home together. Life was beautiful, and I couldn’t believe my luck. This is a successful good looking young man that was thoroughly in love with me, and I reciprocated the love with even greater intensity. Rokan broke my virginity less than 4months into our relationship: He could no longer wait, he said. After all, I would be his for the taking eventually. The introduction of sex to our relationship made the bond grow more. We couldn’t get enough of each other, nor could we bear to be apart from the other for only 2 days.<br />On a hot Saturday morning, I left my house with the intent of going to make a new hairstyle at the salon. Halfway there, I remembered that I had left my new weave in Rokan’s house the previous weekend. Thing is, it had become some sort of a norm for me to go over to Rokan’s place every Saturday evening, spend the night, and then make him food that would sustain him through each week. As I parked my car in front of the gate, I saw an incredibly beautiful fair woman walk out of his gate and a few seconds later, Rokan followed. Our eyes locked and I could see the guilt in his. I did not even need to ask, I had seen enough. Before his companion could notice what was amiss, he smiled. He looked down at her and put her into an Uber cab that had just arrived. Although I did not hear it, I felt him tell her he loved her… And I wept.<br />As soon as the cab was out of sight, he opened my car door and began to apologize. He kept saying he could explain. After about an hour of us both crying our hearts out, outside his home, I finally agreed to be led inside. We sat down in the living room and the only question I could come up with was “why cheat? Where did I displease you?”. Rokan stared at me with such intensity that frightened me, and then he sighed. “We have to talk”, he said.<div>
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Con Amor</div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-8055596833412997512020-01-22T02:35:00.000+00:002020-01-22T02:35:03.033+00:00After thought...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Someone brought it to my attention recently that I have adopted the habit of writing a lot about heartbreaks, abuse, violence, generally all the opposites of love. This has become a norm for me, as I’ve realised.<br />I have now decided to try my best to focusing more on love. It might be a little difficult as I have been out of touch with the feeling in a while, but I intend to try.<br />First, I need to set the record straight. I am a romantic, as opposed to popular belief. I do love the idea of falling in love and living happily ever after. I enjoy the idea of a man and a woman being thoroughly and absolutely in love, that nothing could ever go wrong. And contrary to what I may have portrayed in my posts, I do hope to get the same feeling someday.<br />The reason I have spent so much time on abuse and violence in relationships is to draw awareness to it. I need our women to know it is not alright to be abused by any man in a relationship and our men to understand it is their responsibility to avoid confrontation getting violent in that relationship. I want the world to be a better place for our children, where they won’t have to see the horrors of a married couple killing each other through domestic violence daily.<br />As I have mentioned in past write-ups, it is our responsibility to teach the female child that a man has no right to abuse her in any way. Let’s give them the knowledge that a true gentleman will never abuse her. Tell our girls that if they should find themselves in such a predicament, then to please leave. We need to stress this point as many times as it takes for them to assimilate it. “It is okay for you to leave an abusive relationship unapologetic. It is your life, and you deserve to be happy in peace while you live it”…<br />On the other hand, please let us train our boys to be the gentlemen we want our girls to meet. We need to teach them how to avoid confrontations, or at least end it without violence. We have to make them understand that it is never right to hit a woman, no matter the circumstances.<br />If there are no good examples to train them by, let us teach them that the behaviour of society is not always right. They should be taught the difference between right and wrong.<br />They should be trained to always protect their women, young or old. Their conscious state as men should know that mere witnessing a woman being cheated or abused without standing up for her, is absolutely unacceptable. They should be raised with only an ideology about women – they are beautiful and should be treated with dignity and love. I will love to see a young boy hold the car door open for his sister, and show little gestures to his female friends in school without having to debate internally whether to treat women with respect it not.<br />Mould your sons into the kind of men you would be proud of meeting so that the future generations of women will bless you for a good job well done!<div>
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Con Amor</div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-14016249524926057322020-01-22T02:32:00.001+00:002020-01-22T02:32:36.506+00:00SacrificeI don’t know about you, but I would rather be with a man who pretends, seems like the devil, admits to making mistakes by being human; but loves me truthfully and thoroughly. If I had such a man now, I wouldn’t give him up for anything in the world. I would spend my days loving him, and nights making love to him because I would want to cherish every minute we got to spend together. I would rather be with this man for 5 beautiful months than be with an angelic-looking demon for 5 horrible years.<br />It is such a mistake that I made when I left a man who showed me, love, in every little way he could just because my parents did not approve of him. He is the sort of man who just looking at him, gave the impression that he was a good for nothing being, but I loved him regardless. He did the little things for me in the brief period we spent together. He opened my doors, tied my shoelaces, combed my hair, he cooked for me, fed me, held me close, cuddled me every chance he got, he made me laugh and kept a constant smile on my lips. This man, this gorgeous specimen of a man loved me like nobody else ever has done. For 5 incredible months, I felt on top of the world. And I left all this love, just to be with the man my parents approve of. I knew it was a decision I would regret, but what choice did I have? It is said that parents are sacred and must be respected no matter what; their wishes must be accepted without question and their wants, have to become yours. This angelic looking man wooed my family first before me. He planted himself within my household and acted like he was the best man alive. I did not even argue with my parents when they made their decision.<br />I wasted no time in doing as I was instructed. Although my heart was with the man I loved, I left him to be with the one my parents favoured and I resolved to try my best to make it work with him. We began dating and got married in the space of 4 months. From our wedding night, I knew I had made a terrible mistake. I heard my new husband speaking with his mistress from the bathroom of our honeymoon suite about missing her, about wishing she was the one he had married earlier that day. He loved her, and this did not hurt me as much as it should have. Being his new wife, it should have hurt a lot, but my own lover whose heart I had broken a bare 4 months ago resounded in my head. I swallowed the insult, accepting it as my first lesson in marriage. I couldn’t possibly walk out of my marriage after 10 hours, could I? So, I resolved to do my best to make it work. Even if I had to accept the knowledge that my husband is in love with another woman. He must love me too right? At least a little? Else would he be married to me this day?<br />I tried my best. God knows I tried my best to do everything for this man. I tried to love him unconditionally, but he made it so damn difficult. He was barely around, he made it quite obvious that he detests me (except when we have an audience of course). I remained with him, lovingly and faithfully for 5 horrible years before I couldn’t take it anymore. He was abusive in so many ways; verbally, psychologically, emotionally and a little physically. Although his physical abuse was occasional slaps across the face and a time when he kicked me across the abdomen – an act that caused my premature abortion -, the hurt he inflicted on me was extreme. I knew the solution was to walk out of the marriage, but fear of being a disappointment to my parents kept me in a loveless marriage for 5 years.<br />He didn’t even try. Didn’t contest the divorce, didn’t beg me to stay; nothing. I wasted 5 years of my life with a man who could never love me, all because I was trying to be a good child. Trying to be my parent’s pride and source of joy.<br />I do not regret doing my parent’s wish, but I do regret not making an effort for the love I lost. I didn’t even put up a fight. I just accepted it easily, for fear of being judged, for 5 damn years!<div>
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Con Amor</div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-56600584258973085392020-01-22T02:29:00.001+00:002020-01-22T02:29:46.278+00:00Beautiful Mess...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /><br />Cheating is so easy, especially when she doesn’t know she wanted to cheat. It happens suddenly, smoothly and even unconsciously. Her husband stops complimenting her, he barely gave her what she desired most- his attention. The only thing that seemed like attention now, were slaps, corrections and shouts. Things that were beckoning the demons he had planted in her to surface.<br />Giving in to the demons raging inside of her, she succumbed to the attention a stranger gave her, blushed at a strangers compliments, and even began to care in her heart for the said stranger.<br />She doesn’t want to, but she did give him a chance to grow on her, and he did. Oh, yes he did. The first time they made love was nothing but a mistake, a mistake that ended up making them both feel horrible. Her husband, she thought… She had just betrayed her husband. She could stop, she decided. Pretend it never happened, and just move on, continue loving her husband. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? She could have given in to the demons by committing suicide, she could even have committed murder. Instead, she took a step that made her feel whole again, alive even. Mere memories of that encounter with the stranger made her yearn for many more.<br />Easy to forget him, she repeats for the millionth time. Well, it wasn’t as easy as words. Her heart had stopped loving the man she vowed to always love, without even realizing it. She had begun to care more for the stranger than she did her husband.<br />When had she become this woman, this adulterer? How did she miss the battle going on deep inside of her? Or maybe she had just ignored it?<br />The unhappiness, the tears, the excuses she made on his behalf. She should have listened to herself when she had the chance, she should have voiced out her bitterness, she ought to have stood her ground and never made him lay a finger on her in the filthiest possible way. She should have known it was over, long before it ever started. She should have accepted her truth.<br />Now, she has an unhappy and violent husband who blames her for his misfortunes, and a stranger… A stranger she made a mistake with, but cannot get out of her system…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">...Con Amor</span>LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-34673321710367135672019-03-13T15:09:00.007+00:002019-03-13T15:09:57.527+00:00A healthy relationshipNeed I say more? Love is always a delicate topic of discussion, regardless of time, place, circumstance, or reason. Everybody, myself included have a way of imagining love in all its beautiful glory. We give Love all its beautiful definitions while leaving out the bittersweet parts. The reason is that we all WANT, no NEED to believe in the dreamy idea of love. We depend on it like the very air we breathe. However, we all know love is not always enough to build a happy relationship. There are certain ways to have a model relationship you can be proud of with your partner and they include;<br />
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1) Mutual Respect<br />
Respect is a very important aspect of every relationship. Know that your partner is into you for who you are- for your great sense of humor, your love of reality TV, etc. Does your partner listen when you say you're not comfortable doing something and then back off right away? Respect in a relationship means that each person values who the other is and understands- and would never challenge- the other person's boundaries.<br />
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2) Trust<br />
You are talking with a guy from work and your boyfriend walks by. Does he completely lose his cool or keeps walking because he knows you'd never cheat on him? It's OKAY to get a little jealous sometimes- jealousy is a natural emotion, but how a person reacts when feeling jealous is what matters. There is no way you can have a healthy relationship if you don't trust each other.<br />
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3) Honesty<br />
This one goes hand-in-hand with trust because it is tough to trust someone when one of you is not being honest. Have you ever caught your girlfriend in a major lie? Like she told you she had to work on Friday night but it turned out she was at the movies with her friends? The next time she says she has to work, you will have a lot more trouble believing her and the trust will be on shaky ground or even be broken.<br />
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4) Support<br />
It is not just in bad times that your partner should support you. Some people are great when your world is falling apart but can't take being there when things are going right (and vice versa). In a healthy relationship, your significant other is there with a shoulder to cry on when your world seems to be falling apart, and also to celebrate with you when you make a headway in life!<br />
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5) Fairness/Equality<br />
Equality is another important aspect of a healthy relationship. As I have always insisted, a couple should try as much as possible to play on an even playground. Don't just forget your own happiness for that of your partner; you need to have a balanced give-and-take equation in your relationship. Do you take turns choosing which new movie to see? or what games to play?<br />
As a couple, you need to hang out with your partner's friends as often as you hang out with yours. It's not like you have to keep a running count and make sure things are exactly even, but you would know if it isn't a fair balance. Things get bad really fast when a relationship turns into a power struggle, with one person fighting to get his or her way all the time.<br />
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6) Separate Identities<br />
In a healthy relationship, everyone needs to make compromises but that doesn't mean you should feel like you are loosing out on being yourself. You should also maintain your individual identities. When you started going out, you both had your own lives (families, friends, interests, hobbies, etc) and that should not change after you began dating. Neither of you should have to pretend to like something you don't or give up seeing your friends, nor drop out of activities you love. And you also should feel free to keep developing new talents or interests, making new friends, and moving forward. A partner that is not willing to support your independence and your growth is not worth a second of your time.<br />
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7) Good Communication<br />
Communication is probably the most important aspect of a relationship. A couple needs to talk, listen, talk, listen and talk again. They both should be willing to listen as well as communicate their needs with one another. You have probably heard lots of stuff about how men and women don't seem to speak the same language. We all know how many different meanings the little phrase "No, nothing's wrong" can have, depending on who is saying it. What is important is to ask if you are not sure what he or she means, and speak honestly/openly so that the miscommunication is avoided in the first place.<br />
Never keep a feeling bottled up because you are afraid it's not what your partner wants to hear or because you worry about sounding silly. If you need some time to think something through before you are ready to talk about it, the right person will give you some space to do so if you ask for it.<br />
Do not make assumptions in a relationship. if you do not understand what is being said or are unsure of where you stand, the best thing is to ask questions: Make your reservations known.<br />
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A relationship is unhealthy when it involves mean, disrespectful, controlling or abusive behaviour. Some people live in homes with parents who fight a lot or abuse each other- emotionally, verbally, mentally or physically. For some people who have grown up around this kind of behaviour, it can almost seem normal. Let me use this medium to assure you that it is not! Many of us learn from watching and imitating the people close to us. So, someone who has lived around violent or disrespectful behaviour may not have learned how to treat others with kindness and respect or how to expect the same treatment from people.<br />
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Con amor<br />
LadyAriesLadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-11278347179028324602017-09-26T01:21:00.001+01:002017-09-26T01:21:37.724+01:00Turning Time #2It seemed easy now right? Leave Otunba and get married to David. Things didn't work out that way. Infact, things got really messy fast. Otunba found out somehow about my second life, and he took matters into his own hands. All I got was an sms from David to end our year long relationship. Till this day, I don't know exactly what Otunba did or said to my true love.<br />
Otunba warned me never to attempt such again, he said he forgave me for straying being a child and all. He then began controlling every aspect of my life from there on. He got me a job in his friend's company, got a 2 bedroom apartment for me in the same estate he lived, and funded my account on a monthly basis. In return, I had to do the duties of a wife without actually being a wife. I cooked his meal, washed his clothes, and satisfied him sexually. Although we lived apart, Otunba showed up unannounced at my doorstep atleast 4 times every week. I was truly comfortable, but unhappy. I had become a kept mistress, and it drove me nuts. Periodically, Otunba would send me costumes for those events he needed me to accompany him to. I was nothing more than a pretty face hanging on his arm, and being ogled by his friends. I still wonder exactly how I got myself into such arrangement. I had long distanced myself from family and friends to keep my shame to myself.<br />
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About 5years after the completion of my youth service, I finally got the only news that gave me hope. I was pregnant. Otunba took the news in a way I never dreamed he would. He asked, no- ordered me to get rid of it. His excuse being that "his wife" (who was supposedly dead) and children (when did 1 child become 4?) would never hear of it. He made it very clear that he had all he wanted, and didn't have room for another child.<br />
This is how my nightmare started. The only reason I didn't hate myself so much during all these years of having an affair with a man old enough to be my father's elder brother, was because I atleast thought he was single. A widowed old man was much better than a married old man, wasn't it? As you must have guessed at this stage, Otunba lied to me. His wife was alive and well. The young lady he introduced to me as his only child was infact another mistress of his. I was crushed, alone and scared at the same time. I did the only thing I could think of, I went home to cry to my family. The family I had long neglected and severed ties with, welcomed me back and forgave me.<br />
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Otunba's wife picked that time to return to Nigeria to help her husband's political aspiration, and of course, heard about my affair with her husband. It was no secret amongst high societal gatherings that Otunba had a little girl who warmed his bed when the need arose. She (Otunba's wife) paid me a visit, saw my growing pregnancy bulge, and threatened to ruin my life if I continued seeing her husband. Only God knows how I managed to survive the remainder of my pregnancy term. I received all form of threats, in emails, phone calls, sms, and even to my face. I could barely go out, for fear of loosing my life. The threats were mostly directed at my unborn baby. Otunba did not even bother to see me anymore. He focussed solely on his ambition to be the governor of the state, and I was happy about it. I was actually relieved to be alone and away from him. I always hated myself for what I had become, but I just couldn't break free. I had locked myself up in a psychological, emotional and physical prison that only I could have destroyed, but I was too weak to save myself. Weak enough to have allowed myself to be used over and over and over again.<br />
I was delivered of a beautiful baby girl on a rainy day in August, and I couldn't be happier. My parents had finally accepted fate that I was better off raising my child out of wedlock. I moved (it's okay to say I ran, because I did) to Ghana to avoid any "accidental" run-ins with Otunba and his family, but mostly to bring up my daughter in peace.<br />
Although life is not perfect, I have learnt to find happiness in my aloneness...<br />
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Con amor.LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-57371663461260336352017-09-26T00:39:00.002+01:002017-09-26T00:39:59.995+01:00Turning Time #1It wasn't what I wanted. Not what I bargained for.<br />
All I wanted was to be loved!. I only needed to be appreciated, to be seen as more than a wall gecko, or even worse as a mere shadow trailing behind others. I wanted to be seen as much more than "the politician's mistress".<br />
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My name is Tolu and I am a beautiful 26 year old girl, at least that's what I've been told. In my first year at the university, I met a man. A really matured and much older man. When I met him, he wooed me, told me all sort of lies just to get me. I resisted, I was a good girl and dating a man older than my father didn't seem like a good idea. As this sort of stories usually go, I needed help at some point and decided to go to him as he was in the position to render assistance. He did say he loved me didn't he? So I sought him out. I know you think I took advantage of his feelings for me, because I thought so too and I felt terrible for doing it. Otunba helped me as expected, but what my childish mind didn't bank on, was him calling often to also ask me for a favor. A favor for a favor right? God, I was so gullible to have expected otherwise.<br />
It's no excuse, but this is how my relationship with an older man started. I did grant his favour the first time because I felt helpless, like I had no choice. Every other time was just stupidity on my part. He was the second man I got intimate with and I was still as naive as they came. Otunba told me that his wife died two years back and he had been searching for the perfect woman to replace her with. According to him, she gave him only a child- a daughter who was almost 3 years my junior. Imagine being regarded as a stepmother to a girl in the same university as I am. Anyway, I tried to please Otunba in every possible way, while praying and searching for a way out.<br />
Finally, I graduated from the university as the overall best student in my department. Otunba said he was proud, and his own way of showing it was to buy me a brand new SUV to cruise town with. I know I had the option of rejecting the vehicle, but would you?<br />
During my NYSC service year, I met a businessman. He was everything I wanted in a man, everything that Otunba was not. He was young, vibrant, loving, romantic, and he genuinely wanted to make me his wife. Our relationship was beautiful, although complicated. I tried as much as possible to hide each man from the other, and I succeeded. Such that a year after I met David, he popped the question. He proposed to me in a fancy restaurant during dinner. I was overwhelmed and filled to the brim with joy.<br />
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<br />
.....to be continued.<br />
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Con amorLadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-63459925192015980772017-04-23T12:11:00.000+01:002017-04-23T12:11:52.866+01:00#throwback post #31/03/2017Sometimes you get stuck in a place, and then you realise just how fast life is passing you by. How do you even begin to grasp it? How do you stop time? How do you tell life you're simply trying to catch your breath, that you need a time out?<br />
The weird thing is, it is at this juncture when your trying to reevaluate your life that you notice just how fast time is speeding by. Friends slowly become acquaintance, lovers slowly become mere pals, and the only people whose place is constant in your life is family. We begin to loose focus on things we want to do, and give ourselves reasons to focus on what we need to do.<br />
It's my 28th birthday today, and I must admit I've come a long way from the girl that started this blog in 2011. I haven't achieved what I set out to, but at least I'm not in the same spot. I will myself to keep moving, whether or not I see a future in sight.<br />
Anyway, I received my sister's call as usual first thing at midnight, but then no other call came. I picked up my phone to call someone, anyone that came to mind and then I realised what my life had become. In a bid to avoid hurts and heartbreaks, I have shoved a wall between myself and many others. There's no one to place a call to me early on my birthday and say soothing words<br />
Is this really what I set out to achieve? No, but it is now my reality and I intend to live with it- just like I've been living with past choices.<br />
A happy 28th to me!LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-36342578609620457642017-02-03T10:05:00.001+00:002017-02-03T10:05:16.679+00:00Wanna Paint?The world has evolved, in every way and it's mostly good. It's just that there are thing I would rather are left as they were. An example is how we define beauty. We have have become so accustomed to perceiving a make up enhanced face as beautiful that we have begun to undermine the value of a natural looking face. Barely do you see a lady without make up on and when you do, she's 'ashamed of it'. Irony is that no matter how well dressed a lady is these days, she feels naked without her make up on.<br />
I cannot count the number of times I have been asked one way or the other why I don't use make up. My response is usually one of a joke, and it's the same line I use for a lot of things in my life "if you can't handle me at my worst, then you don't deserve seeing my best". The truth is that I have used make up before, I have some shoot pictures proving that. Infact I did attend a make up school, but I didn't complete it. Back when I was in the uni, I used to rub a lil white powder on my face, colourful lip gloss, either a ash/gray/gold eyeshadow (as minimal as possible), and a quick flick of mascara on my lashes- and I was good to go. At this time, I knew I wasn't going to get an award for my make up, but I was darn sure I looked good.<br />
As make up evolved like everything else in the world, it began to get bolder. There were more and more products being released daily to use on your face. It got to a stage that you can barely recognize someone you know very well when they're covered in the paint called make up these days. Now, I just can't stand the absurdity of it all. It's freaking okay to use make up and get transformed on your special days, but when you wake up extra early everyday simply because you want to sit and paint yourself up for 2 goddamned hours before going to work, it's just ridiculous.<br />
Yes, it take up to 2 hours to have that exclusive face beat, and it even takes some longer hours than that. When your body is demanding rest, you wake it up and cover the sleeping bags up with more makeup. For crying out loud, give yourself some time out! The artificial lashes must be giving your eye lids a sore, your natural lashes need time to breathe. And for heaven's sake, give your face some free time to get nourished naturally.<br />
Some of you have friends that you have never seen without make up on. Even at night, their make up game is always tight. How can I have a friend that I can't recognise without her make up on?! The worst part now is that men have joined the makeup club. I don't know what this world is turning into, but every time I think of it, I roll my eyes and keep thinking- RIDICULOUS!!!<br />
Can anyone of you boast of going a whole month without makeup? If I gave you a dare to spot your natural face for the rest of the year, would you bite??!<br />
I may not be the prettiest girl and may not even have a cute face to look at, but I was created this way and I am damned proud of it. There is nothing to be ashamed of spotting a natural looking face, seeing as everyone is beautiful in their own way. You should try it some time, it's quite refreshing.<br />
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Can amorLadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-58660244769546591532017-02-02T10:51:00.000+00:002017-02-02T10:51:08.330+00:00¡Boys!I have been watching a lot of home videos lately, in retrospect to real happenings around me, and I keep deriving the same conclusion. One way or the other, no matter how perfect you are, men will always cheat.<br />
Be the perfect stepford wife, cook his meals, clean up after him, do his laundry, be the intelligent partner he can throw ideas around with at night, and satisfy him well in the bedroom. All these don't matter because as soon as the devil in skirt comes chasing after him, it's over. It's like half their brain is only programmed to have sex because I genuinely don't understand why a man whose wife is pleasing him in every way, will still cheat on her with another that cannot even nearly be compared to your woman. Is the sex all that different? Is it worth ruining your marriage and life for? That's a question many men never bother to ask themselves before plunging into these affairs.<br />
Explain to me how intelligent men can't think around a short skirt, and their only goal in the 30minutes that follows is how to get under those skirts; by all means possible. I would have thought his wife's sacrifice to be able to take care of him and love him daily would count for something. I have concluded that there's really nothing like "sexually sated" in a man's head.<br />
Even when your wife is a sexy independent working class lady that still finds a way to satisfy you every single day, it's just never enough. Even though she works like you do and is even working harder (as she has a home and a big baby in form of a husband to take care of), it will never occur to you to appreciate her efforts and be faithful. That's all she wants from you emotionally, is it really too much to ask???<br />
Men can't just resist the long legs on heels and tight ass in jeans or shorts. It pisses me off that I can't seem to comprehend the rationale behind their reasoning. They just keep grabbing any piece of ass or skirt as they go... it's the way they were programmed to operate, I guess.<br />
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Con amorLadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-5954867516426740912017-01-15T22:47:00.001+00:002017-01-15T22:58:25.044+00:00Self Abuse..I have come to the conclusion that we as women are our own problems. We scream all over the place about the way men treat us. We talk about feeling used, we talk about being objectified, we even go to the lengths to talk on how our rights are being trampled on by men. Yet, it is the same women that will go to a man and submit to be used, the same women will dress indecently to be objectified, the same women will forget they have rights (I still can't decide on why) and give men all the liberties they shouldn't.<br />
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Awhile ago, it was all over facebook and instagram that a Lagos big boy was attending parties in the company of two masked ladies on a leash. They really did look like a couple of over pampered dressed up dogs going out for a walk with their master. Anyway I tried examining (more like attempting & failing to think from all perspectives) this situation from different angles before writing this post and my only conclusion is that the young man must have paid them heavily to play that role. Don't get me wrong, I know what he's going for here but I just can't believe it's the same thing those ladies are going for. I understand the rules of BDSM, I have studied it. I know he's trying new things to give himself pleasure, but couldn't he have gone to orgy parties for that? This man demeaned two ladies by putting them on a leash and taking them to regular Nigeria parties to show off as his toys. We are in Nigeria sir! Even if 50% of the population are fond of kinky sex in this country, they don't flaunt it. It's their dirty laundry and shouldn't be aired in public.<br />
The masked women on the other hand, are the recipients of my anger. I need proof that they truly enjoyed such treatment. If he could insult their femininity in public thus, I wonder the kind of treatment he unleashed at them in the confines of his home- all the name of pleasure (or money). How much is good enough for you to let a man strip you of your dignity, self-worth, and self-love? How much did he pay to insult your existence?<br />
Funny turn of events however, has this same Lagos big boy claiming his act is actually a movement for voiceless women. According to him, he needed to first get noticed by the nation before his words could be heard. And what better way to make the world notice you if not to parade yourself as a dominant figure with his submissive dogs, I mean ladies, at parties?!<br />
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I don't care what he says, I think he has no respect for women. If he did, he never would have put those ladies on a leash; and those ladies should never have been willing participants.<br />
"I WISH SOMEONE WOULD MAKE THIS ENDLESS ABUSE OF WOMEN STOP!!!!"<br />
Let's be honest with ourselves: No-one is going to save women from an abuse they willingly got themselves into. We need to start thinking, and stop the old fashioned habit of disrespecting ourselves. When we as women begin to love ourselves, only then will we begin to appreciate our worth...<br />
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Do have a prosperous new year everyone,<br />
Con amor.LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-80823949503280662092016-11-29T22:42:00.001+00:002016-11-29T22:42:46.020+00:00trouble in paradise #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://images.inmagine.com/600wm/juiceimages/juis006/juis006725.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://images.inmagine.com/600wm/juiceimages/juis006/juis006725.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
…… I took it slowly and gentle with her, bearing in mind
that she had never done this before. I took my time to pleasure her through
foreplay so as to get her ready for me, and then I slipped myself into
her…..gently…..slowly……waiting for the hymen to stop my entrance so I could
tear it carefully. I was still waiting when I had completely immersed myself
into her (and believe me, I am not on the small side). There were no
restrictions, nor could I feel the walls of my wife’s vagina. After a couple of
thrusts, I stopped because I just wasn’t feeling it. My wife looked up at me with
a pout, and said “you should wear a condom, it makes the friction so much
better”. I felt like the world had slipped and I was going into oblivion. Did
Temilade just say what I believe her to have said? Oh My God!, Did that mean I
have waited over a year to have sex with a girl that wasn’t a virgin? I felt
played, I felt embarrassed, I felt like hiding my face in shame. I tried hard
to breathe deeply, in and out to stay calm, then I asked “Temilade, you told me
you were a virgin, what happened?”. My wife smile at me with malice and
replied, “Honey, does it really matter if I am a virgin or not? We are married
now, and that’s all that matters. Besides, I didn’t actually think you were
serious when I said it. I just needed an excuse not to sleep with you, knowing
I would return to my hometown after my service year”. She tried touching me and
I swatted her hands away. I moved away from the bed, got dressed and took a
drink out to the balcony. I was out for 2 to 3 hours, without even knowing. The
only thing going through my mind was the girl I had already disvirgined in her
prime, and wronged in every way. I wondered how she was doing now. Has she been
able to forgive me and move on? I remember seeing her at my wedding reception,
looking good but not quite happy: but then, who is ever happy at their ex’s
wedding? I should call her as soon as I got home- give her some explanations at
least. Would I say it was the devil? Or would I blame it on Temilade, who as of
this minute is my new wife?. Temilade,…… I thought to myself. She had played
her game so well without stopping to think of the repercussion. I had not even
bothered to do all the necessary blood tests before we got married because I
convinced myself that she’s got to be clean- she’s a virgin after all. I felt
another wave of anger wash over me, and I continued to do breathing exercises.
It wasn’t worth it right? We shouldn’t start our marriage on this sour note. I
didn’t marry her because of her virginity, or did I? it shouldn’t really matter
because I genuinely love her. I did not fall in love with her with her because
she claimed to be a virgin, right? Right??.. I began to search myself for an
answer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the next day, I had come to a conclusion that I would try
as much as possible to make my marriage work. Partly because I did not want to
be ridiculed, and mostly because I truly believed (after a lot of self
convincing) it shouldn’t matter if my wife was a virgin or not. Although we had
started off wrongly by giving the foundation a lie to rest on, but I intended
correcting it. I discussed with Temilade at length on my decision and she
explained that the deceit was not done purposely. She said I was eager to brand
her as someone pure, and didn’t have the heart to tell me otherwise. Her family
had been pestering her long before she graduated from school, and she saw me as
her ticket to achieving her aim. She expressed how bitter she was about the situation,
but assured me of her unwavering love for me. This was good for me; she was
sorry, and I was willing to forgive. During the course of our stay in Europe, we
tried getting to know each other better. It was good for us in every way, even
sexually. Although I was used to Lara’s tight vagina during intercourse, I had
to find a way to get used to my wife’s loose vagina. After all, I’ll be going
in there for the rest of my life. At the end of our ‘honeymoon’, Temilade and I
had become somewhat friends. We had decided she wouldn’t bother job hunting; it
was better I start a business for her. I resumed work with the zeal of a newly
wedded man, and I was able to say I felt happy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Barely 2weeks after we returned home from the honeymoon, I
noticed that Temilade had never entered our newly renovated kitchen to cook me
a meal. She was always going out to buy our food, or placing orders at
restaurants nearby. At first, I thought it was the euphoria of being newly
married, but one day after asking her to make me vegetable and swallow from
work, I returned home to find my wife dishing yellow eba and egusi on the
dining table. The soup was so small, in comparism to the eba so I requested to
have more soup. Here, my wife lamented that the lady who sold her meal had been
quite stingy with the soup, meaning she had bought my dinner from a notable
restaurant. I tried to hold the reigns on my anger, and said “If you had needed
money for foodstuffs, you ought to have told me instead of buying this. I cant
keep eating out”. It was when I saw her expression that a feeing doomed crossed
over me. That pout was sitting over her expression, then she said, “Honey if
you want home cooked meal, you’ll have to get a maid. Cooking is not amongst my
skills”. She said it without as much as a blink. I could only stare at my wife
of just a little over a month. I had no idea what to say, no could I think. I
felt worn out emotionally and psychologically. Temilade was wearing me thin,
and we hadn’t even made it to our first anniversary yet. I knew I couldn’t cope
on simply restaurant meals because I was very much used to home-cooked meals.
Lara had spoilt me with well nourishing diet. Eventually when I could face her
later that night, I told her to get in touch with her mother to request for the
maid. This seemed to make her happy, because she gave me a kiss right after I
said it and said, “Thank God!, I was beginning to wonder how I would keep this
house clean when dust begins to accumulate”.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Six months after I got married, I had gotten used to eating
the crap our maid prepared every night. My wife did nothing in the house, she
had even stopped giving me sex regularly. She even refused to take care of the
business I started for her, preferring to get another maid for that purpose.
All she did was hang out with friends, party, and party some more. We were
virtually living as mere flat mates, and not a couple. I had even begun to seek out Lara, with the
pretense of apologizing. The love I felt for Lara came back into my heart in
full, making me wish I hadn’t hurt her so much. Lara on the other hand refused
to see me most days, and when she did pick my call, she made it brief. She made
me understand that she had forgiven me, but could not be friends with me. If
she had given me the chance, I would let her know that I wasn’t actually
looking into being friends with her. All I wanted was to have my girl back,
with all the good things that came with her. I never spent as much as I have in
6 months of being married, during my 10 years of dating Lara. She assisted me
when I was down financially, never spent lavishly, and made me come first in
her life! I didn’t recognize the perfection I owned in my life, and I gave her
up in replacement of a worthless being. The lady I couldn’t wait to marry a
year ago, had now become an object of disgust. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On our first anniversary, my wife shared pictures from our
honeymoon on social media with sweet words to accompany them. To outsiders, it
would look like we had the perfect relationship, such that some would have
wished for a love like ours. At the end of the day, I received a facebook
message from someone who I didn’t know personally. It contained pictures of my
wife, naked with several men, with some
focusing on her wedding ring; letting me know that the pictures were taken
after we got married. I wasn’t hurt by the pictures, as my heart never laid
with her but I felt played all over again. What was I to call this? Karma, for
what I had done to an innocent angel? Or was God simply paying me back for my
past misdeeds?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do I request to have a divorce, or do I stay with a
pathological liar and cheat?, especially when she ‘claims’ to be having my
child…. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
LadyAries!</div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-87598843192367613872016-11-29T22:31:00.000+00:002016-11-29T22:31:25.606+00:00Trouble In Paradise...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://images.inmagine.com/600wm/glowimages/gws211/gws211029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://images.inmagine.com/600wm/glowimages/gws211/gws211029.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Or what else do you call a total and absolute delusion about
the marriage institution? It really was once a paradise, until it turned sour. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I met this lady through a mutual friend while she was
serving her country in Lagos state. She happened to also be an engineer and
that captured me instantly, along with her packaged beauty of course. As at the
time I met Temilade, I was in a relationship that had begun back in the
university, and was on its way to our 10<sup>th</sup> year together as a
couple. Naturally, every one (my parents
included) had begun to do minor preparations for the wedding they were certain
would come the following year between my girlfriend and I. Hell!, even I
thought we would get married!. I just never gave it much thought, that is,
until I met Temilade. Maybe it was due to the fact that she already took good
care of me like a wife would, but I was never really bothered about asking her
hand in marriage. Don’t misunderstand me please, I did love my girl, so much
that I would do anything for her. She satisfied me with everything and anything
I wanted. She would come on weekends to the house, clean up, do my laundry in
the machine, cook my food, stock up the fridge, and of course satisfy me
sexually. For some reason though, we men tend to take the ladies that stick with
us for granted. I honestly never meant to hurt Lara, as she’d been with me
through it all. I just took it too much for granted- her love for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Temilade came as a breath of fresh air. A piece of mint gum when
you just had a bowl of palm oil yam porridge. She tantalized my senses and sent
me into a disillusioned state. Was it her fault? NO! it was all mine. For some
reason, my girlfriend of 10years was no longer good enough- not in the kitchen,
not in bed, and absolutely not at events. All I could think about was Temilade,
and how she would do it so much better. At this point, I had started to date
Temilade by the side, but we could not spend as much time as I would have loved
together. Also, Temiade was quite busy with work at her primary assignment and
I was immensely proud of her. On the other hand, I did not know how to end
things with Lara whom I have been with for 10 years, so I begun to throw subtle
signs at her. I would flare up for no apparent reason, insult her, talk ill of
her family, reject her food, purposely lock her out on some weekends and lie
about it. In all this however, she was ever so patient. She did not retaliate,
nor did she relent in her effort to please me. She would even apologize for what she didn’t do, pet me, feed me, and
then make love to me. I know, I am guilty as charged!- I am but a man, and I
have never been able to reject love making. Sometimes, it feels like she’s the
only one that can make me feel like a man. Well, all that is before I met
Temilade. Now all I think about, is how Temilade would do it better.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The weekend Temilade and I finally spent together was one of
the best and most anticipated weekends of my life. We both had a getaway to the
cattle ranch and lodged all weekend. We had so much fun, and it was like my
fantasies came to life. When night came, Temilade explained to me that she was
a virgin and did not wish to have sexual intercourse with a man until her
wedding night. I was surprised. Really?! A 22 year old graduate that was still
untouched in the century we are in? I was happy and excited to have met the
perfect girl, forgetting that the
girlfriend of 10 years was also once a virgin until she began to please me with
everything, including her body. I began to fall more deeply in love with
Temilade, if that was even possible. I started to think of a future with
Temilade, that did not include any other girl. This undercover relationship
continued for 6 more months with me taking brief weekend getaway trips with
Temilade. A month after Temilade’s passing out from NYSC, I was able to get us
both tourists visa to France. We travelled the week leading to my 10<sup>th</sup>
year anniversary with Lara, with me telling her I had to travel for work.
Temilade and I got to Paris, and had a vacation to remember. We toured the
city, tasted the local dishes and learnt about the culture. On the midnight of
my 10<sup>th</sup> anniversary with Lara, I proposed to Temilade. I proposed in
the most romantic city, at a time when it felt just right, in a beautiful
location , with a ring that had been weighing a ton in my pocket. I didn’t mean
to hurt Lara by proposing to another girl on our anniversary, I just couldn’t
hide the ring anymore. Regardless, I was too weak to face her with the truth,
so I took the cowardly option by posting pictures of Temilade and I vacationing
in Paris all over facebook. I flooded my timeline with pictures of me proposing
to Temilade and I went further by using a picture of us kissing as my profile
picture. Temilade and I spent 2 more weeks (to make 3 in total) in the romantic
French country before returning home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I got home, my key was in the lock and I didn’t have to
be told that Lara had packed her personal belongings. I felt really bad, but
relieved at the same time. “At least there wasn’t going to be a physical confrontation”…
I said to myself. How would I look into her eyes and tell her I didn’t mean to
hurt her, that I just found someone better? I kept on with my wedding plans,
pretending like all was well. I did not call my ex (Lara), nor did I try to
give her any explanations. I just didn’t know what to say to her. I knew I had
wronged her but I kept justifying my actions by reminding myself that one must
be selfish when it comes to matters of the heart. It is my own happiness that
counts, isn’t it? The period between my proposal to Temilade and our proposed
wedding date was less than six months. To say I was in a hurry is an
understatement. I wanted my marriage to begin with me being a better person,
and that included me giving my fiancée 100% fidelity. During these months, I
really missed Lara. There was no weekend delicacies, no marathon sex to keep me
sated, nothing.. Temilade insisted that until we had gotten married, she wasn’t
doing the chores of a married woman.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The wedding was grand in all its glory. The cake, the décor,
the food, the music, the wedding party…. Everything was superb. I couldn’t hide
my joy that day. During the reception, I saw my ex briefly show up with a few
of her friends. The expression in her
eyes showed disbelief, but it didn’t make me loose my cool. My heart was just
filled with so much happiness. It was my day, and nobody was gonna take it away
from me. Our honeymoon couldn’t begin soon enough, and we both were excited. We
decided to go for special two weeks in the same place where I proposed marriage
to her, and possibly tour neighboring European countries. It was heavenly, from
the weather, to the food, and drinks, and the honeymoon suite in the hotel was
fab! I felt I should begin exploring the city all over again, but all I really
wanted was to finally touch my wife....</div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-9878589745137933952016-08-03T15:18:00.001+01:002016-08-03T15:18:06.480+01:00(not) My Business...I have always wondered why some ladies like to act somewhat stupid- or at least they put up a good show at being stupid.<br />
Recently I had a conversation with an old friend and of course we talked about our relationships. I was very happy to hear she was seeing a guy seriously and he wasn't even living in this country. He lives somewhere in Europe, has a good job, and loves her. What more could she ask for? So comes the question, why then haven't you 2 gotten married? Your 30th birthday was a couple of months ago and he is yet to propose. It is at this point that she thought it wise to open up to me.<br />
Apparently the man she's dating is currently in a confused state. According to her, he does love her and really wants to spend his life with her but he's having some issues to sort through. I don't mean to seem like a pessimist but I had to ask the obvious; how do you know all this? Are you saying this because you want it to be true or because he told you so? He can't make a decision if to be with her or to stick with another lady for the sake of his child.- Lanre is a yoruba guy that made 'a mistake' at a young age. He impregnated a girl and the girl gave birth to a baby boy-. "She tried to hook him with a pregnancy!!" - So, his first child with another woman is about 6 years of age now. Lanre is an active father in the child's life, his baby mama is still single because she spends her time taking care of his kid, and he loves/wants to marry you-. Am I the only one who thinks this sounds wrong?! Honestly if Lanre was a responsible man and knew the meaning of condom, how would she tie him down?<br />
<br />
I had to take a minute to calm myself at this point. Then I asked, "how old is the baby mama?" Baby mama is 32years (age mate with Lanre), and she's still single. "Are you certain she isn't waiting for her baby daddy to come for her and the kid?" No ooo, there is nothing between the girl and Lanre again. They are done!. "But how sure are you of this?" Lanre told me so the last time I asked him about their child on Skype. Besides, I'm praying a lot about it and I know Lanre will marry me soon.<br />
I could no longer hold my outburst in check. He told you over Skype??? You have never met any member of his family in the 2 years you have been 'dating'. I know its good to pray for good results, but I had to ask. Is it the baby mama's fault that your man didn't use the condoms he should have? Is it the baby mama's desire to take care of a man's child for the rest of her life while other men must be avoiding to marry her because of that same liability? Do you think the baby mama doesn't pray harder than you for God to do his will in her life? Have you ever wondered about the child? If the child prays every night for his parents to marry so he can stop being bullied in school? I am not trying to be an advocate for the baby mama since I do not know her, but why do we like to behave as if others don't matter when it comes to what we want. I remember when my friend had a child in school and the guy said he had fallen in love with another girl on campus. We (yea, that includes me) all cursed this guy on various degrees. What he was doing was unfair. Going to her parents house to say you're the baby daddy is not your only responsibility. We all know that the society we live in frowns at having kids out of wedlock, but the taint is solely on the lady.<br />
My question is, does it mean that I am not supposed to care what happens to another lady who's being wronged just because I want to get married?!<br />
From the other lady's (baby mama) point of view, she had a child for the man she fell for 7 years ago. We can safely assume that they both decided to keep the pregnancy and Lanre must have promised to stand by her. It's a pain being a university student already but its worse when you have to study through the problems of pregnancy. Also consider the typical Nigerian parents who will give you hell naturally for being pregnant without marriage. I can imagine how difficult it was for the poor girl. Somehow, things changed: Lanre travelled abroad, reconnects with an old secondary school mate and starts to date her without any promises. Let me mention that according to my friend, she's not the first lady Lanre is dating since his baby mama. He's dated many more. I saw the anger in my friend's eyes at what she thinks is me 'not being in support of her.' So I let the issue go, but I want to use this medium to ask her the questions I should have that day.<br />
Can you pray yourself to be in that situation? Being a single 32 year old mother whose baby daddy is confused about becoming a family because another lady is involved?. Have you even thought about the repercussion of being with that kind of man? Whether you like it or not he has a family with the baby mama, even if it ain't legal. He will always take care of her, visit her, call her and sometimes go on vacation with her because he has a child with her. A child he must love.<br />
Then again, it's not really my business is it?.LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-81432953262813913412016-02-29T16:10:00.001+00:002016-02-29T16:10:41.031+00:00Truly Love You<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Love sometimes play games with our
intelligence; especially our first love.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'AR BERKLEY'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'AR BERKLEY'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We spend so much time and effort for
those people we quickly notice their beauty.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We really want to love them, but end up
not actually happening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Yet, the less obvious ones are right
beneath our noses, silent and true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You listen to them and keep all they say
in your heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You treat them badly in an attempt to get
a little closer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You wish they would just like you back
even if it's a little.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You happily keep all the promises made to
them, and fulfil them no matter how long it takes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You take a beating for them if you have
to, and defend them when you can.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What better sacrifice is there than to
give your one true love away to someone else who deserves them more? To someone
who can take very good care of them like they deserve?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">And all you can do is hope they are happy
with that one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You always light a candle in your heart
for them, even when you know they like and are with someone else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You always think of what to do to make
them smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You pray they know how you feel, but you
never have the courage to tell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You wonder how their future will be like,
and if you can be in it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">If you don't see them for a long time,
they never lose their place in your heart!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">... That's what a true love means.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "AR BERKLEY"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Con Amor</span></div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-90069982329360248002016-02-23T17:37:00.001+00:002017-01-15T23:15:28.845+00:00Main girl or Syd chick?..<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://images.inmagine.com/600wm/beyondfoto/bl043/015036bl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://images.inmagine.com/600wm/beyondfoto/bl043/015036bl.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
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The thing about
relationships is that no one can be sure of anything. Everyone just goes into
it with a lot of hope and optimism hoping to get the best results out, but what
happens at the end of the day isn't up to anybody. My mother always say- “a kii
gbon to eni ti oun tan ni”; meaning “ you can never be as wise as someone who
goes out of his way to deceive you”. When a guy is determined to lie to you,
use you and dump the remains at the curb, then he certainly will because
you will believe him. Oh, you will have that feeling that something’s off, or
that he’s too good to be true, or that
he isn't right for you. But you will still go ahead and fall stupidly
for him. That’s just a problem we ladies have: we never listen to our guts or
common sense when it comes to a seemingly “perfect gentleman”. Even I have
fallen victim of such circumstance.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Every girl loves to
assume that she is the one; the main chick. We just love to dissuade ourselves
and like to pretend we know for sure. Every other girl our man hooks up with is
the side chick; the other woman. Rather than just wake up and find a way out of
the relationship that most likely won’t lead anywhere, we just pray and keep
hoping that he forsakes every other girl for us. Sometimes though, we are right
and those sort of miracles happen. Let’s be frank with each other though, it
only seems to happen once in fifty relationships. Most men I know will leave
both the main and side chicks, and marry someone entirely different at the end
of it all.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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A friend told me that
when a relationship has been going on strong for about 3 months and you do not
know his home, you have every right to find out why. I say; I only need to know
from the beginning of the relationship what my status with him is- it’s my right.
If you are comfortable with being the other lady, then feel free. Otherwise,
just move on.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We all know that men
have conflicting signs when in relationships and an insecure man sometimes look
like a cheating man. They can both exhibit the same signals so one can never
be too sure which it is. You should also know signs to watch out for when you
are definitely the other woman. When your man ends your calls abruptly just
because another call came in, that’s something to be curious about. A wonderful
man will always take a minute to ask you to excuse him before taking the call
and you’ll get an explanation from him. A cheating man never respects his side
chick, but accords his main girl with a high level of fear and respect. If a
man is not afraid of losing you and doesn't see the need to hide his indiscretions
from you, then you just may not be so important to him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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When you’re the main
girl, you don’t need to guess or worry, he’ll do everything he can to make you
know how special you are. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And if you happen to find out you were the side chick all along, then please do the women race a favour and just move on. I'm the type that believes there is a special someone for every woman, and if you haven't gotten your happy ending, then it means your someone is yet to arrive. A cheating man is never worth it no matter which angle you look from!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Keep trying...</div>
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Con amor.</div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-1061146397641175922016-02-14T18:15:00.000+00:002016-02-14T18:15:32.807+00:00Proclamation of Love to my Heart!Dear Lukman,<br />
<br />
A man once told me, “Iheoma if you’re going to love, then do it right. Find a love that never dies, that never looses its electricity. The kind of love that’s worth fighting for”.<br />
<br />
These past years, I have not gotten much inspiration to love, but I kept those words at the back of my mind. I always told myself that everything in life was overrated, especially love. Eventually I stopped thinking about it, and I didn’t care much for emotion. I assumed my life was going on point, nothing was missing. I just wanted to be someone important and make my father proud.<br />
<br />
And then along came a beautiful young stranger. His gaze was all it took to draw me in. When I first met him, something told me he was different and I just knew deep in my heart that we were meant to cross paths. I suddenly began to yearn for more. He started to grow on me. He made me laugh and took me on a beautiful ride. Just when things got serious and true, I put up a wall. I told myself I was doing it for my own good, that I was merely protecting my own heart. Yes I admit it, his love had begun to fill me up. I put up strong defences just to douse the flame. I was confused, here’s a guy that loves me to the moon and back. He makes my tummy bubble with excitement when calling and makes butterflies dance in me when I hear him laugh. Yet, I found an excuse to stay away.<br />
<br />
Love so strong, so big it never fades: that’s the love you promised me. Love is a difficult emotion to handle and I certainly didn’t handle mine well. I pushed you away in the bid to save myself, I hurt myself just because I fear heartbreak.<br />
<br />
Lukman, I’m sorry for being stupid.<br />
If it’s okay to start again, I would like to start afresh!.<br />
Since we didn’t get it right the first time, we can do it again. We have a whole lifetime ahead of us to practice with.<br />
I have realised that it’s okay for you to want everything I have to offer.<br />
It’s alright to want to catch up on what we’ve missed in the past.<br />
It’s okay for me to take a chance and give my all<br />
It’s okay to open my heart to new possibilities<br />
It’s okay to fall,<br />
And say I love you.<br />
I’ll throw all my cards on the table this time, not because I know how it will end...<br />
Its just that I am having so much fun, and really there’s no place I would rather be.<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
Iheoma.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5336118025989762088.post-38384571865116249302015-12-30T19:06:00.000+00:002015-12-30T19:06:03.849+00:00Our UnionRestless is the way I feel as I walk round the big house, thinking. Worry has caused a big crease on my forehead, making me look much older than I am....<br />
<br />
How do I explain to my in-laws , my family that my husband is dead? How do I tell them he died in the arms of his lover and that the said lover had just summoned me to court.<br />
<br />
My name is Amara obviously from the eastern part of Nigeria, and I married a man from a different tribe- Olu. We met when I went to get my MSc degree in South Africa. Olu had been living there for awhile training to be a pilot. The night we met was one like most nights, at the club a stone throw from campus. He was charming, funny and he wooed me almost instantly. We had already dated for 2 years before the difference in our tribes started to trouble us. We wanted to be together so badly, and started to plan our wedding. We visited both his parents and mine in Nigeria, and introductions were done. My family accepted his totally, but I was unlucky with his family. His mother already had a Yoruba girl that she wanted Olu to marry, and saw me as the stumbling block.<br />
<br />
Olu and I eventually got married after series of argument, and troubles. We settled in South Africa since we both got well paying jobs in the country. The fact that Olu's mother loathed the sight of me, made me eagerly accept to move permanently to South Africa.<br />
<br />
Seven years down the line, I had become more of a career woman and mother than a wife. Olu started having an affair just 3 weeks after we said our vows and he didn't even hide it. He did not hide the different girls warming his bed. In the bid to have a peaceful home, my husband took my gentleness for granted. My two girls hardly know their father. A few months ago, Olu confessed his lover was carrying his child- his son, he had called it. To say I was furious is an understatement and to top it up, I had absolutely no one to talk to. My parents were no longer interested in the affairs of my life, and his family weren't my biggest fans. According to his cousin, Olu had already taken the South African born Yoruba girl home to his family and she was given a grander welcome than I was. They had even gone ahead and done a traditional marriage. Olu and I started having heated arguments about her, until he opted to leave and move in with her.<br />
<br />
Today, I got the news that my husband died a week ago (less than 2 months after he left me), and his lover is suing me for child support for a baby she hasn't even delivered yet. I am still Olu's legal wife both in Nigeria and South Africa and I have been his next of kin long before we got married. It's obviously time to go back to Nigeria with my girls but how do I face his family?LadyArieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05965970776883644236noreply@blogger.com0