Posted by Chioma Anyagafu on
OFTEN TIMES, many wondered if, indeed, decent relationships still exist. Nothing good comes easy. In many relationships, either of the partners sometime stray for walking-ego-problems....
OFTEN TIMES, many wondered if, indeed, decent relationships still exist. Nothing good comes easy. In many relationships, either of the partners sometime stray for walking-ego-problems.
Most of the time, women prefer the-above-average, well-dressed, sweet-smelling and conversationally acceptable gentlemen than the aggressive male, ostentatiously virile, foot-loose or happy-go-lucky types.
Are there really men who would not prefer beer or wine, casual sex, computers, sleek cars and work a serious relationships? Is it not becoming increasingly difficult to meet men who are just blocks and down-to-earth, who would encounter a woman for the first time and decide, ‘look, this woman is for keeps.'
Like a good wine, a good relationship could bring back tempo in a life. Reconciliation, confidence, goodwill, love, forgiveness, companionship and abounding happiness are affordable in a good relationship.
It is never too late to start again. Conceptiously be wrong at times but moving a little closer to a cue could perform the magic. It could be that woman you always tend an ignorance snub and vice-versa. It could be your wife whom you’ve not bothered to discover her essence or you tend to overlook it. Sometimes too, it takes a slow down on a fast lane or a quick run on a slow lane or a look-around in on-the-spot position. Whatever it is, there is no harm in trying or starting all over again.
I lost interest in genuine relationship — Fidel, 35
After I allowed my grandparents to pick a girl from the village for me and I accepted, I got involved with the girl in question and encouraged her in her academic pursuit. Then, she was in JSS 3 and I was a first year Law student. Both families encouraged us in the relationship but I soon discovered that Ijeoma, for that her name, was promiscuous. At that stage also, it occurred to me that we were too young to get too involved and I let her go.
By the time I graduated from the Law School at age 24, I had already earned a reputation as a chronic womaniser. 'Use them and dump them' had become my motto. I couldn’t bring myself to trust any woman after the way Ijeoma behaved during our courtship.
My lifestyle soon began to reflect in everything I did. Keeping a job had become a problem as I ended up sleeping with the girls in the office, even the tea girls and the cleaners and it always affected my performance. Thrice, I lost my job because of the girls in the office. Some of them, I forcefully had sex with and threatened them not to squeal but it always backfired.
I soon earned this stigma as the black sheep of the family. It was like a curse was placed on me. Nothing I did pleased my parents or grandparents. At a stage, I began to live like an orphan. I was ready to remain so for life as I never bothered to earn anybody’s approval anymore.
But that was bound to change, for out of the blues came this beauty. Initially, it was like my mother had come to haunt me. This new girl resembled her in more ways than one that I despised. I tried to use her and dump her in my usual manner but she wouldn’t let me. Helen did so many things to change me. She went in search of my parents, found them and pleaded for forgiveness on my behalf. She remembered my parents wedding anniversary, sending them gifts and cards and inviting my siblings to visit. I need not tell you that she was to break the 12-year old jinx. Believe it or not, without her triumphal entry into my life, I would still have remained an ‘orphan’.
We are not yet married. We have not even defined our relationship. Strangely, she never mentioned marriage and never worried about her single-status. I am 35 years and she’s 27 and since I met her, she has changed my life in many ways. I learnt to trust again. I have kept a job for three years now and scandals have fled my life. She looks and acts independent but not arrogant. I am hoping that one day, I would be able to summon enough courage and propose to her.
A new woman changed it all — Albert, 42
I met Josephine at the end of the year party organised in my office. Before her, I was a man on the run. The thought of a serious relationship sent goose-pimples all over me. Twice, I had loved and twice, I lost. The most recent loss was more devastating because I lost Bimpe, my fiancee, to my cousin who accompanied me on the day I did the introduction at Bimpe’s village. My cousin, Greg, had advised, after the introduction ceremony, that I allow a little more time before the actual marriage because he claimed there was something about Bimpe that disturbed him. When I enquired, he claimed her face was too familiar that he suspected he had met her at one of his male colleague’s house too recently and she was introduced as a girlfriend of his colleague. I was a bit taken aback by my cousin’s revelation and agreed to delay the marriage. Before I knew it, it was my cousin and Bimpe that got married and till date, I was unable to understand what really happened. That kind of thing put me off women for a very little time. I mourned the break of my relationship with Bimpe like the death of a loved one. But I was more devastated by the fact that it was my first cousin that married her. You won’t believe it, my mother is Greg’s mother’s immediate elder sister and I’d know Greg all my life, grew up with him because he was the only son amongst three sisters but my mother had us seven, all boys. We were a problem to my mother most of the time that she gladly gave me to Greg’s mother to live with so as to keep Greg company and grow up with him.
We were too close until I lost Bimpe to him and then I said bye-bye to women. I repulsed any attempt by women to get too close to the extent that some began to doubt my manhood. To prove I’m still a man enough, I began to sleep around, even patronised prostitutes.
At a stage, I told myself I was entitled to every woman on the street. My sleek Mercedes was a boost. My style was one night stands. That was until I met Josephine at the party. I slept with her in a friend’s house claiming my mother was in my house and she would be opposed to my bringing home a girl. I did everything to ensure she didn’t visit my house. It continued like that for six months. She was always coming to see me in the office because her company had a business with mine and I couldn’t avoid her.
My house, at this point, had also become something else. I hardly slept there. I spent most of the nights at my friend’s house because I wouldn’t want any girl visiting. My house was a mess. But Josephine caught me one day in my house. She had traced me in her car from my office and walked in on me just as I unlocked my door. I was ashamed and embarrassed and began go sweat profusely. Dust was everywhere and the whole place smelt stale. My clothes were on the couch in the sitting room. My towel was hung on the arm of the dinning chair. My shoes were under the centre table, Josephine pushed me aside, entered the house and sat down. Then she quickly stood up as if the chairs would stain her clothes. She surveyed the living room, then looked at me, shock her head and had a good laugh.
“So this is it”, she queried, “your mother surely messed up everywhere”. I felt the sarcasm in her statement. But Josephine had come to stay. She insisted on my staying the weekend in my apartment and I grudgingly accepted as I couldn’t trust her to stay alone in my house. That position was soon to change. Josephine turned out to be a real woman. She performed a miracle in my house that weekend. Cleared the mess, washed some of my clothes and even ironed them. And she slept in the spare bedroom. I was moved by her homeliness. She turned my house into a home once again and I began to spend time in my house. Josephine didn’t seem to want a commitment and I wondered why. We made love occasionally but she called it just sex. I didn’t know fate was to deal with me again.
Just as she appeared in my life, she one day disappeared. I later learnt she had travelled to United States in pursuance of the golden fleece. And like she shocked me by tracing me to my house, I made up my mind to trace her. And so, I packed bags and baggages after I succeeded in obtaining my visa. My life was a vacuum without her. I crossed all the boundaries and made to the United States. For two years, I couldn’t locate her and then, one day, I called my office in Nigeria and learnt I had a message from Josephine. The letter was faxed to me and I traced her to her house in the United States, which she mentioned in the letter. Luckily, she was not married. The guy she went to meet in the United States had abandoned her to marry an American. We lived together for a while, had a child outside marriage and then discovered she had not changed, I married her. Today, I would say, I am happy family man. I wouldn’t have married a better woman. She is always waiting for me to get home and keep my clothes and shoes in the right places. I have since forgotten Bimpe and my cousin Greg and the experience that nearly ruined my emotional life.
She made my life a miracle — Bode, 43
My life is a miracle. Looking at the past, there no way anyone who knew me would reconcile the then pot-bellied, chubby-checked, stout and thick-set buffalo with the sophisticated, elegant, gentleman speaking to you. I would say I was touched by an angel. The first time she saw me, she flippantly asked whether I worked as a body-guard for somebody of influence. When she visited my house and saw the empty bottles of beer littered everywhere, she thought I sold beer for a living. It wasn’t long before she discovered I was a heavy drinker but she stayed by me. She wasn’t too keen in trying to change me but she expressed so much love despite my pot-belly and occasioned body odour, that I had to make efforts to impress her. She bought me foreign magazines, GQ and some male magazines which she left for me.
It wasn’t easy but gradually, I began to let the habits go; the drinking, the smoking, the cigarette odour that seemed to be permanently trailing me soon stopped. I used to finish more than a pack of cigarette a day and I thought it was cool. Now, all that is history. I rarely smoke and my pot-belly has disappeared. I don’t take beer anymore but I drink wine occasionally. My taste in clothes too has improved. I combine colour better, wear designer perfumes and have a better carriage. My chubby built had given way to a macho man, the type they called adonis and girls swoon over me. My life has really changed. And I must also tell you this, because of my drinking habit, I got engaged severally in street brawls. I was temperamental but it has all changed because I found real love. I am a new man.
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have u ever thought the garbage or the toilet might be jealous? Ur so full of shiz- white piece of shiz BET lol. That's where ppl like you belong (toilet garbage etc), ik the truth hurts but dont take it as an insult im just trying to describe you; ik im good at it ty-The truth hurts right. JSYK black ppl aren't nerds were just smarter than you oops Btw BLMM!!!