MY NEMESIS

It was on a Monday, but not like the usual Monday morning or other mornings when I take to my usual routines which were stretching out my big biceps allowing them crack up hundreds of times before running down to my bed for my breakfast which consists of hot push ups, a glass of water and a normal wash off, and then off to the Government Residential Area – or GRA as it is fondly called – to see if anything good would come out of my years of studying Public Administration with a Second Class Lower which I managed to get. Before now, I had written several job exams but on this particular one, I have been able to scale through two orals and a written test. This Monday was the crowning of all my efforts; I was just one step away from getting my appointment letter.

But this particular Monday morning was just too cold, my bones wouldn't crack, I was weak and felt an ill omen about this Monday, I couldn't take my usual breakfast, everything seemed weird, things were not falling in place; my toothbrush hurt my gum, my faeces came out hard and hot, the sponge down was unusually painful with the water annoyingly cold. I perceived something was wrong, but no, it is normal to be anxious and feel sick when one is to appear before the boss of bosses.

As soon as I walked out of my room, I hit my left feet against a stone, 'a sign of good luck' I said to myself even when I know the general notion of hitting one's left feet against a stone is a sign of bad luck,  I disagreed. Just a stone throw from my house a speeding blue Volvo with rickety body and sonorous music wafting from its speakers, which alerts every willing and unwilling listener to turn around, dashed into a pothole nearby and gave me a bath, as though I forgot to have one, while the driver only waved his hand expressing how not sorry he was. I rushed back home, without having another bath, I changed hurriedly into another shirt and trousers.

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When I finally got to the gate of Aldon Group of Companies, I was already twenty eight minutes late and sweating as though my sweat gland had leakages. Sitting with other awaiting candidates, I felt a bit relieved, though I knew something was wrong with today, maybe something awful had  happened to Mama, Matthew, or Beauty who would not just say 'yes' after four months of me asking her out. It took seven hours before it got to my turn, just when I was about getting up, I felt nauseous, my bones were heavy, I could not breathe, my saliva was dried up, I needed water but it was too late. I knocked and heard a sweet welcoming voice. "Come in," the voice ushered.

For the first time in my life, I couldn't open a door. I struggled with it as though I needed a manual. Just as I gained entrance and closed the door behind, I became transfixed and my heartbeat stopped for several seconds. Finally my nemesis has caught up with me. All these years, I thought I had asked God to pardon me and forget about the horror I caused a female corps member eight years ago. I ruined her inner and outer being by my action. My legs became heavy and I dropped on my knees.                                                         

Some years past, I had joined a notorious highway robbery gang and on one of our missions, my group members challenged my sexual prowess and dared me to exhibit my sexual skills on one of our victims. I took pride in raping her severally in order to prove them otherwise. I made sure I left a lasting scar on her face and on some parts of her body. I did all these just to prove them wrong but as I stood transfixed to the ground, I realized I don't know who to prove right or wrong.

MARRIAGE BOND

On this particular day, the house was unusually full and busy. We should have lodged outside our home but friends organized a little surprise party for us and when we got home, we had to postpone the trip. Relatives who couldn’t return to their respective residences stayed back to celebrate us. The crowded house didn’t stop John from planning to consummate our marriage this night. He was tired but not too tired to do what should give him absolute pleasure. John stepped out from the shower into the room where his new bride was seated on the bed in her lingerie. It was our wedding night and I had to look sexy for him. This lovemaking had to be special. I had to blow his mind with the recent styles I had learnt. It would be our second time and it had to be the best – one which should hold better memories than the previous. He perceived the cologne on me and planted kisses on my neck. Our lovemaking was great as I moaned in response to his movement, attracting inquisitive relatives who slept over to our door.

We started dating when I was in nursing school. Then John was a young man in his mid twenties. He showered me with love and gifts, with everything that made a relationship flourish. But one thing made us a little different, while I was a devoted Christian – one who should remain chaste until wedded by a church, John was one who attended church services at will, though he did everything right. So John felt our relationship was lacking, he felt we should know each other some more. I eventually yielded to this offer. Of course, I am his lady, and he is my man. The church wouldn’t know we were having sex.

After the awesome experience with John, I missed my period. I was still schooling and John was in his houseman year. He would love to make me his wife but we were not entirely ready and we needed to do things the right way. He suggested I terminate the foetus and as you'd imagine, I frowned at it. I went home and thought about how it was my fault – I opened my legs for him, received the pleasure, enjoyed it and didn’t take contraceptives. I am a medic but I was careless. I thought about how disappointed my brothers would feel if they ever learnt about it. Then I sent John a text message, and told him I would go ahead with the plan. We scheduled an appointment with a doctor and a D&C was carried out.

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Life continued, our relationship flourished but we never had sex again. I feared a repeat. Two years later we were done with school and started practicing. Later wedding preparations began and we married. Years passed by and there was no swelling on my belly. No missed period and no miscarriage to count. John became impatient and eager to become a father. He forgot how he had fathered a child with me five years back. He couldn’t bear it anymore; he needed to tell the world his manhood was active. He forgot how I felt or he stopped to care. One day, he came home with a pregnant lady. When I questioned him, I was sent out. I have been putting up with one of my brothers since then.

Months passed and I received a call from my pastor. I was asked to come to the church. And when I got to the church, I entered the pastor's office to behold a thin man seated in a armchair. On a closer look, I found that it was my husband. He came to ask for forgiveness. The pastor told me how the lady he had impregnated was positive with the HIV virus and how she and the newborn died. I was to be told later that I slumped into a chair beside him. Now I am battling with thoughts; the pastor has asked me if I want to continue with the marriage. John is my husband, we were joined in a church. Our bond said “for better or worse... till death do you part,” I should stick with him till our eyes close in death. Besides, marriage is more of commitment than the uttered words – it is more of doing than saying.

STIGMA

 
I walked quietly without noticing the people that walked past me. No one was around when I got home, so I walked straight to my room, bolted the door behind me, removed my clothes, stared at myself in the mirror and finally entered the bathroom. This is one of those moments I enjoyed having a brother as a sibling because I did not share a bedroom and maximum privacy was assured. I let warm water flow into the bathtub, and then stepped in. I slid into the bathtub and remained there.

The phone beeped and I rushed to it on the bed. I have been expecting Uche – the one man who had the involuntary power to make me suspend my studies. We exchanged messages and as usual, he told me how much he loves me and wants to make me his wife. How I should not let anyone touch me or have time for the boys in my class because most SS1 boys just reached puberty and are looking for where to get their first ejaculation. He continued with how I should remain chaste until he breaks my hymen on the night of our wedding. But this time, we were sexting. He said we could do this so he would not have to touch me physically. He was the man because he made my clit swell with desire to be ravaged, and as a result, my panty got soaked. I felt that this was the perfect time because I suddenly did not understand Physics anymore, and reading the textbook for an assignment about how to calculate the relationship between gravity and motion was out of this world. The only motion I wanted to understand was how Uche’s hips would move on me and the gravity at which he would pound me. He mentioned how he would ram his six-inch into my beneath so that I moan, scream, and shout. I was ovulating and this seemed the perfect solution to my horny-forced sleepless nights. He continued until I squirted – it was my first. That feeling that wanted to rip me apart suddenly vanished, I was tired.

Later that night, while we spoke on phone, I told him of my new experience as it was different from the other times I just panted. From the way he spoke after my confession, I knew he thought about how it would be to grind a woman until she squirts. He has never been able to achieve that with all those 'wild' university girls who felt his instrument lacked elasticity. The thought gave him a hard on and he asked me to come over to his apartment the next day.

I found myself taking a cab to his place the next day. It was the best move I made that day because I could not concentrate all day in school. The thought of visiting my love after about five months of communicating only on phone was a distraction. Although we did not see each other often, our love blossomed like a tree planted by a riverside.

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It was an easy ride from my father's house in Ajah to Lekki where he lived. I arrived and Uche received me at the door. He hugged me tightly and later, he would let me sit on the bed. He knows how I enjoy eating fruits, so he served me some from the refrigerator and headed to his mini kitchen to get me the hot, freshly prepared jollof rice which he made with smoked fish. Because I just changed from my school uniform to a casual wear before heading out, I did not have the time to eat at home, so I invaded the plate of rice before me after perching on some fruits. He insisted he fed me which I did not enjoy because I was still getting used to being free with him physically as I am shy person, though I could be a terrible bomb on the phone.

We talked and had a good laugh after the meal. And just when I seemed to have relaxed a little bit, he drew closer. He looked as one who has everything figured out, as one who knew the strokes to pull at a particular point to have his way. He could not wait anymore – he just wanted it from now till when we eventually get married.  He said he would be careful enough not to get me pregnant, that he would let it out outside. He was aware of my 'present condition' so he talked sweetly to me, he brought up yesterday’s chat and how I felt about it. When he drew me closer to him, I could have responded better if it were on phone, but no! This is reality and I am yet to come to terms with things of this sort. I was frozen. It was the first time he had come this close to me. It was so obvious that he had become hard and was trying to get me in the mood but I suddenly became too naïve for his fancy. Mr devil had spoken to him but showed some self restraint – he loved me and would want this type of intimacy to be voluntary – for me to reciprocate, that way, I will leave trails of marks made by my nails on his back. This would make him feel more of a man. He wanted my experience with him to be special and cherished but I was not being positive and he was saddened by that. I believe he had true feelings for me unlike those hit and run, one-night-stand adventures.

The wetness I had earlier had suddenly dried up. He pleaded and cajoled, as he reminded me about how he made me feel those other times, and made promises about how this time would best the other times but I remained unmoved. The thought of having a real penetration at 15 frightened me, so I did not budge, rather I opted to go home. Then Mr devil pushed Uche and he pounced on me.

I came out from the bathtub where the warm water has now become tepid and bloody. I walked downstairs to my brother and mother who has by now returned from the office. I have made a decision, I have resolved to serve God with my remaining body. Romantic love and relationship is not meant for me and thus, I must swerve now before the pain I feel within would be channelled wrongly. In Sunday School and Tuesday classes in church, the priests usually say people find peace in God. That is where I should head because I need absolute peace.

RAINY SUNSHINE 1

Joe and I have been together for nine years, yes, I met him while I was in secondary school. He was good to me. I think he loved me and I loved him too. I and my three other sisters was raised by my mother. My father died even before I said my first word, or so I was told. And as you would expect, life didn’t beam smiles at us. How do you expect life to treat a single parent – a woman for that matter – in an African society? I will not tell you how it is the culture of my father's people to will everything to a man's brother when the man is late, and leave the man's wife and children to whatever supreme being they believe in.

I was fortunate to attend a University because of my mother's hard work (God bless that woman). While in the University, I combined my studies with my relationship. Joe and I had everything going for us until a new chapter opened in our lives. He wanted sex! I wondered how possible it was, I mean how could he suddenly want that from me, from us? I thought he was asking for too much. I thought about the story my roommate at the University had told me. Her man demanded for sex, he said it would bind them. He said it would assure him of her promise of staying with him, even though he had not attended a university himself. People say when a girl attend higher institution, she sharpens, she becomes exposed to life, she becomes exposed to men, she becomes exposed to so many things; and when that happen, she will gradually slip away from her relationship before school. People say so many things. Has someone been talking to Joe? Joe didn’t attend a university, but he is a wise Alec. He is a good man. He asks questions when he is not clear about something. I loved him!

It was my third year at the University, and I had never been intimate with any man. Joe has been the only man in my entire life. He is my father, my brother, my friend, my lover. He is my world. We only kissed a few times, and let our bodies warm each other when he would pull my clothes half way up, but that was as far as we went. We started kissing when a friend of mine warned me of the dangers of not sexually satisfying my man. Joe and I agreed to start kissing – only kissing – and it wasn’t to be a regular thing. I had promised God that I will not lose my pride to any man other than my husband; and that would be as long as He didn't let the game boys come near me. In the University, not everyone is a student and not every student is devoted to his or her studies. Some had other devotions. While some of us enrolled to study a particular subject, some others had a religious or sometimes cultural identity which obsessed them. We called the game boys. I had read stories of rape victims, I have heard someone tell me hers too. I understand the stigma the experience leaves several years after the occurrence. I did not want to witness it myself.

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So when Joe talked about sex, I felt numb. I died.  I refused to acquiesce his request. I wasn’t ready! We argued and he was angry for a while, but he moved on – or so I think. We got along quite well, but little did I know that that was the beginning of the end. I heard rumours that he was seeing some other girls but I didn’t believe it because my Joe would never do such to me, to us. Mark is a good friend to Joe, they were like brothers. They told each other everything. Mark started asking me out. It was awkward because I never envisioned it. Mark started visiting me at the University, his phone calls to me became frequent. I did threaten to tell Joe about it but he persisted. I was serious about telling Joe about Mark's advances at me, but I feared it would strain their relationship. They grew up together. They have struggled together. They were still struggling. I didn’t want anything to break them, more so, not a woman. I loved Joe, and I cared about him more than I cared about myself. I shouldn't be the one to tear them apart. Mark would always tell me how I am the only person in town who didn’t know that Joe has been seeing other women. I didn’t believe him. It was their game. Joe had asked him to ask me out, to tell me those – it was a test. He played his script so well.

Now I am 27, I have been dating this man for the better part of my life. You read stories and watch movies, right? You know how the life of the characters in those books we read and movies we watch are usually interesting. You know how we all want that special someone, how we all want to have that perfect relationship. How we want to grow with our spouse, and like in the movies, live happily ever after.

Well, life is not what we see in the movies. Life is different from all what we read in books. I have not set out to vent frustration. I have not written to support any lady who believes that all men are the same – people experience life differently but whoever believes that all men are the same should be excused – I want to tell my story. I don’t know if I have learnt anything from my experience. I'm not sure what lesson life wanted me to learn or what moral it wanted me to draw from my experience.

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