Abby’s Diary #22 By Fiksionist

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Dear Diary,

I hate being single and the more singlehood tried to court me, the more I settled into the comfort in the arms of another woman’s husband. To be honest, I feared the dire consequences of being with Jake Sowemimo but at the same time life is a risk and I was ready to take the risk with Jake…not until Eid El Kabir….

The holiday started smoothly; Jake had sent his driver to deliver groceries and assorted meat for our little in-house holiday celebration. No one was invited, just two of us. He was flying in from Dublin and told me he wanted to be with me. In fact, our relationship was going on very smoothly after I had promised to resign from my job last week.

PAUSE!

Did your brows furrow? Did you shake your head from left to right? Are you wondering why I will do such a thing? Well, wonder no more because he was already talking to his lawyer about a divorce from that psychopath, Aura. Aura had wrecked his life from the moment they met because of her father’s money and Jake deserved to be free from all of that. The divorce was going to be a long one and he needed me by his side to ensure that I wasn’t just going to abandon him when the going gets tough. Shey you get?

UNPAUSE!

So I made assorted meals over the holidays, stocked up my refrigerator with his favourite wine and waited… and waited… and waited…

Jake did not show up that day but I got a surprise from Aura. She sent me pictures of Jake on Whatsapp in bed with a man (which I supposed was Tombara). The pictures were grainy and it looked like the camera was some sort of spy camera. This surprise was sent to me by 11:45pm and here I was worried sick that he had missed his flight or lying somewhere in a desert after a plane crash. I didn’t know what to believe or where to start from. I couldn’t cry because I felt too numb to. I felt exhausted of all the sick mental games and huge sacrifices. I just felt tired.

The following day, I packed up a few things and headed to Aunty Alero’s house. She had invited me over for the holidays and although she is not Muslim, she killed a ram (or two) every Muslim holiday but she no de follow them fast sef. Yes, Aunty Alero was that kind ofjaiye jaiye person. Immediately I got to hers, I joined them in her backyard after bending and squatting before loads of aunties and cousins I had not seen in a while. You know, when you go into such places, you cannot avoid the inevitable from old-bored-with-their-poke-nosing-lives aunties;

“When are you getting married?” one said.

The other butted in “I thought she was married?”

The first one said “No o! It is her cousin. Abi are you waiting for Dangote’s son?” she said in Yoruba.

The other one answered for me. “My dear, we all waited but he never came so if you see a man that can give you a roof over your head and extra change to buy aso ebi, don’t say no” she said in Yoruba.

The first one helped her cement the words by whispering into my ears “You can be a second wife. Men are hard to come by these days.”

Her words took me aback but I managed a smile and pretended to receive a call. In my the guest room, I sank into the bed and thoughts of how Tayo treated me and how Jake abandoned me returned in full force, shattering every false glimmer of hope I had to be a ‘Mrs’ one day. I caved into silent tears and didn’t even hear when Aunty Alero came into the room until I felt her arms around me and took in her scent of garlic, onions and firewood.

Shebi you know that that man you are jumping around with is not yours. You know that saying “nisin olowo nimi” is not happiness. I have seen your car and fine fine dress but I am seeing your tears too omo mi. Leave that man alone! See, your heart is breaking and he should be holding you tight but he is nowhere to be found.” Her words made me cry a little harder.

“You know what? When I was married the first time and he divorced me, I thought to myself, ‘I deserve it, after all, I was a wild girl and all the married men I had been with had come to hunt me in my marriage.” She sighed and smiled sadly. “But omo mi, do you know when I met Tajudeen and we got married, I felt like a small girl of 18, like I had never known any other man in my life. Tajudeen may be dead, God bless his soul, but I am glad God sent him to me briefly. I realised that the gift that God gives does not come with sadness. Abigail I did not have a child with him but you are mine and I will tell you words of truth; I know what love feels like and if it brings you so much pain then it is not true.”

This is why I loved Aunty Alero; she makes me feel alive, like the world was okay and people weren’t dying in Iraq and there was cure for AIDS and cancer. She held me while I told her everything I had been going through with Jake. For once, she didn’t judge me. She listened and held me in her arms when the tears couldn’t let me speak. She advised me to move out of his house and leave everything he had gotten me.

Everything????????????????????????? My designer bags, the car,shoes and dresses.

Yes, everything.

Sigh. This was going to be harder than I thought.

The day swung by and I decided to stay to the night with her. A lot of family friends of mine where around and it felt good catching up and laughing hard in careless abandon. My mind drifted to Jake but I used Aunty’s words to shield the pain, they resounded in my head. I knew moving on meant I had to move back in with Ogama and make some hard decisions to steer clear of Jake but nothing helped me decide more that the surprise I received when I unlocked my door the following day.

I walked in and right at the centre of my table was square red gift box tied up in lilac ribbon. I thought Jake was up to one of his humongous surprises and I called out his name but no one responded. I gently untied the box and for a moment, I couldn’t identify what I saw; it looked bloody and blackish and then I saw it for what it was….

“Oh no….oh my God….oh no!” I exclaimed and dropped the box.

In the box was an emasculated penis and a note read;

I can do anything for him.   

 

Translations.

nisin olowo nimi– I am rich now

omo mi- my child

jaiye jaiye-someone that likes to enjoy life.

Fiksionist

Fiksionist

She is a writer, blogger, bathroom-singer and she loves to laugh. Her mind is her playground and if you want to know more…
Visit fiksionist.wordpress.com
Follow her on Twitter @loglilmary

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