FEMININE FLAIRS: MOTHERHOOD

By: Bukky Idowu

It was the famous American family therapist, Heather Mc-cue who said “The whole point of woman – centered birth is the knowledge that a woman is the birth power source. She may need and deserve help, but in essence, she always had, currently has, and will have the power.”

Some young mothers I spoke with recently explained joyfully that their first birth experience had been that of inexplicable happiness. One of them even put it this way “The joy of having my flesh and blood through child birth had been overwhelming… that first cry was the beginning of reality.”

Motherhood is one of the major duties of every woman. It involves more that just caring and feeding the baby. The mother needs to be patient, cautious, alert and be healthy enough to take proper care of her baby.

She should look forward to motherhood with a positive mindset. It is not a bed of roses though stress and sleepless nights will rear their heads. She should be unperturbed and remain resolute. The joy of motherhood will cushion all these pains.

The husband should not be an onlooker. He too has vital roles to play in this. As an accomplice, he should not shirk his responsibilities. He sow the seed, he should be ready to nurture it to fruition! His words of encouragement and assistance in various forms will go a long way in ameliorating the stress and fatigue that go along with motherhood.

Happy motherhood to all our nursing mothers. Ciao!

ADVENTURES OF MR FAARI: ADIEU “BOLA FOR SURE”

I am in a mourning mood. I got the sad news of untimely demise of one of my long time ladies few weeks ago. It was Rashidat that first called me. I did not believe her because both of them were arch rivals. It was not Rashidat Deen o! It was Rashidat Owoh.

Bola was introduced to me some years ago by one of our social aunties fondly called “City Mama”. Bola was a popular hairdresser in one of the state capitals around us. She and the two Rashidats always kept my company whenever I visited that state; it depended on whom I saw first.

Our first outing left a sour taste in the mouth, though she eventually made up the disappointment. It was at one of City Mama’s friend’s birthday party. The ceremony was in the top gear when this motor-cade blearing siren disrupted the gathering. The vehicles grounded to an abrupt halt and a young man jumped out of the SUV vehicle and ran to the celebrant where she seated. She stood up and embraced him. He gave her a peck and handed her a bulky envelope. I later on learnt that he was the cousin of the celebrant.

“Sister, I won’t stay long o! We have to go back to Lagos tonight.” He shouted. He looked around and saw Bola. He beckoned at her. She ran to him. He whispered something to her and both of them rose. To my chagrin, Bola followed him and the convoy left noisily the way they came. I felt empty. I was boiling all over. The wine I was sipping became tasteless in my mouth.

About two hours later, Bola emerged from nowhere and sat quietly beside me. Her defence was

“Faari, don’t be annoyed, Omo-Oye was my boyfriend right from our secondary school days. You see refusing to answer him in public like that would be an insult. The guy has just come back from the United States and he is seeking an elective post. I’m even one of his campaign agents here” she kept on defending herself.

Another disappointing scene was when I went to that city on an important appointment with a top state functionary. After arranging for the next day, I called at Bola’s Salon. She was happy to see me. She arranged for my feeding and booked hotel accommodation for me. She went back to her shop and promised to call again in the evening. That was the last I saw of Bola o.

It was like “waiting for Godot!” If you have not read that book go and read it. When it was about 11pm and I did not see Bola, I started calling her number. She had switched off her phone. I slept alone that night. I woke up early, needless telling you that I did not enjoy my sleep. I was afraid what could have happened to Bola? Did armed robbers attack her on her way? Various thoughts kept coming to my mind.

I decided to check on her on my way to the state’s secretariat. There I learnt she did not sleep at home. My appointment with the commissioner was for 8.00 0’clock and I was to travel with him to Abuja that morning. It was from Abuja that I went back to Lagos. Bola called me later in the week and started apologizing and giving excuses. I was not fooled. She was otherwise engaged and did not want me to see other alternatives.

You can now understand my feelings when I heard that she died in a ghastly auto crash. I was curious, therefore I instructed our Bureau Chief in that State to investigate the circumstances that led to her death.

According to his reports, Bola in her characteristic manner followed one of her men to a drinking joint in the outskirts of the town. They were in the middle of enjoyment when this pretty young girl entered the hall. She was this man’s girlfriend. The girl was hesitant at first, but the man beckoned at her and asked her to sit on his laps. Bola was furious. I knew her to be of terrible temper. Bola was a stammerer! She picked her cup and that of the man with both hands and poured the contents on the duo.

She picked the man’s bunch of keys on the table and stormed out. She ran to the car park, entered the man’s car and sped off. Few minutes later, she ran the car into a stationary truck in the road with full speed. Bola died instantly!

BEHAVE RESPONSIBLY; LIFE IS SHORT!

TEJUMOLA OJODABARU; WHAT A NAME!

I was the last child of my aged parents. My dad was in his 70s, while mum was engaged in petty trading. The onus of my training therefore rested on the first born of my parents; Brother Isaac, whose wife had born him three children.

Despite his commitments to his nuclear family, Brother Isaac made sure I never lacked as far as my upkeeps and education were concerned. This abruptly came to an end. When I was in the third year in the University, Brother Isaac lost his job.

I left the campus, this fateful day, full of hope and expectation I had borrowed some amount of money that I needed to pay back. My mission was to go and collect my monthly allowance. The mood I met at home made my heart skipped a beat. Brother Isaac, his wife and the children were all at home. This was strange, at least the two elderly ones were supposed to be in the boarding house. They seemed to be in the mourning mood. Who died? What could have happened? Why this somber mood?

I did not have to wonder for too long. Brother Isaac had lost his job few weeks earlier. The children had been sent away from school when he could not pay their fees. Without been told, I knew there was no way I could squeeze a dime out of this couple in this their present state. I expressed my sympathy, prayed for them and left.

Where should I go now? I thought aloud. I struggled to get to the bus stop. I just stood wondering. How would I pay my debt in the campus? The money I had in my purse could not even take me back to school. “I have to start begging people for money if I don’t want to get stranded”. I was thinking how I would go about this when suddenly; I felt that my dress was drenched with storm water gathered in a pot hole beside where I stood. This sudden wetness brought me back to my senses. I started crying.

The SUV vehicle that splashed the dirty water from the stagnant pool parked few meters away. The driver alighted. He came over to me and apologized “Sorry young lady, Chief said you should come”. He pointed at the direction of the big vehicle.

I followed him sheepishly. The man at the back of the vehicle lowered the side glass and said “Young lady, accept my apology. I’m sorry to have soiled your beautiful dress. Could you come in so that we could do something about it?” Before I could say anything, he opened the other door. I entered and the vehicle sped off.

He introduced himself and gave me his complimentary card. He was a contractor of some sort. He requested for my school address, course of study and home town. He was quite inquisitive. Through is persistent questioning, he knew about my predicament. He consoled me and opened his briefcase. I took time to look at him very well. He looked handsome to me. He was not even as old as I thought. He brought his cheque book out and scribbled something on it.

He asked for my full name and wrote it on the cheque leaf. He handed it over to me. I thanked him. I looked at the cheque. I was to cash a sum of twenty thousand naira only. I looked at him and thanked him again. He also requested for my brother’s field of specialization and I told him it was geology. He brought out another complimentary card and asked for his full name as well. He wrote some things on it, brought out an envelope and addressed it to the managing director Great soil solid minerals incorporated.

“Jane, give this to your brother Alhaji Dan Sakwa will surely get him a job in due course, just promise me you’ll be a good girl. I’m on my way to Abuja right now for an important presentation. I hope this our meeting will bring me good luck.” I started praying for him. “That is my girl. You can give me a call next week.” He gave me a cash of two thousand naira and asked the driver to park the vehicle when we got to Ojota bus stop. He bade me farewell. I alighted into the scorching sun and the vehicle sped off towards the old toll gate.

Was this strange man an Angel or Aristo out to lure me into fornication? Chief came out to be both. I said so because if I had not met him on that day, I didn’t know how I would have survived. Brother Isaac went to meet Alhaji Dan Sakwa of the solid minerals as chief directed. He got the job in the managerial level, his fortune changed immediately and the couple remained eternally grateful to me.

When chief came back from Abuja, he gave me a call. I thanked him for all he had done. I also informed him that Brother Isaac had secured the job. I asked him how his Abuja interview went. He said it was positive. According to him, that was his third attempt at getting the job. He said I was the one that brought him luck. He invited me to his office for celebration the following day.

When I got to his office, he was in a meeting. After waiting for about an hour, the secretary ushered me into his office.

“Janet Abomide!” I was confused at this statement. My name is Janet quite alright, this “ABOMIDE” was not clear to me

“You are Abomide now. If not because of that water that splashed on you, we wouldn’t have met”. He stood up, walked to where I sat, bent down to my level and looked me straight in the face. He said, “Jane, I don’t want to beat about the bush. I want us to start an affair”.

I was dumb founded. “What do I say to this now?” I thought. One thought said I should reject him and beat it, the other side, I should grab this opportunity. I listened to the latter. I lowered my gaze. He was not bad to look at. He was handsome. Deep inside me, I’m beginning to like him.

That was how I became the mistress of Chief Rodeke. He was my first man. When he realized I was a virgin, he started worshipping me. The affairs could no longer be hidden among my folks, but my parents expressed their resentment over the relationship. Understandably, I had succor in my brother and his wife.

Before I left school, Chief opened a boutique for me and employed qualified staff to run it. When I celebrated my twenty second birthday, he bought an SUV vehicle for me as my present. Me that my friends knew as a borrower and user of second hand clothes suddenly became a celebrity on the campus, one of the respected big girls. Because of my generosity, my peers were calling me Angel Janet! Twice I became pregnant; twice I lost my pregnancy mysteriously. Don’t miss understand me. I did not terminate the pregnancies, far from it. I had given my whole life to this man. I wanted to carry his baby. I wanted to be his wife.

When I passed out from the university, Chief influenced my posting and I remained in Lagos. I practically did the service in my shop. He rented a duplex for me. By this time, I had gone far with him. Some of his friends and siblings had known me.

I became his official consort. But whenever I asked about his wife, he always brushed the issue aside. He warned me that it was a no go area.

This was not for long though. Bubble burst one evening when chief decided to spend the weekend with me. We were just driving in from a night out, when this elderly woman came out of a big car parked beside my gate. She must have been waiting in the dark for some time.

She charged at the Chief. “Ramani Akanni Rodeke! I have respected you enough, but you failed to reciprocate this. Why you allowed yourself to be carried away by this useless harlot beat my imagination. A homeless gold digger of a girl made you loose all your senses of dignity. Have you forgotten our covenant at the shrine? You forget the source of all these wealth and affluence so soon?”

She turned to me. “Look Tejumola Ojodabaru, Ramani cannot take another wife or else heads will roll, that’s if they have not been rolling already! He is mine and mine alone. Take a final look at him.”

She dragged him out of the car and the man followed her without any resistance. They entered the waiting car and sped off.

I phoned the chief the following morning and he confirmed what his wife said. He said I should take care of myself. He assured me that all the properties in my possession were bought in my name. He advised me to make good use of them. My mind kept going to the statement of the woman about “heads rolling”. Could my still births be the heads that had started rolling? Will this not affect my future? Oh my God! This woman is a spoiler! Can you imagine, she even gave me a name, Tejumola Ojodabaru!

BENEFACTOR INDEED! BENEFACTOR INDEED!

I had a flourishing wholesales textile business in Balogun market. I was very popular in the market and one of the privileged few who pioneered traveling to Dubai, Hong-Kong, and Bangkok to order for textile materials.

My ordeal started when a friend introduced me to a quick business. I had just recovered from illness and needed some money to cover the lost ground. It was smuggling. I new it was illegal before I dabbled into it, so when our trucks loaded with contraband materials were intercepted by the men of customs and excise and arrested, I knew what I was into. From fry pan I landed myself in fire. Therefore instead of struggling out of my financial mess, I was wallowing in it.

We thought of bribing the sector commander of customs in charge of the operation. Those who were close to him warned us against it. They said the man was incorruptible. They advised us to forget the idea if we did not want to end up in jail.

“What can I do now?” I wondered aloud. I needed an urgent solution to my problems. When my husband who had just retired saw what I was going through, he promised to bail me out of my financial mess. This he did. He assisted me in securing a loan we used two of our buildings as collateral. My business started booming again.

There was this driver of mine named Rasaq. His peers called him Rosco. He was loyal and hardworking. He was a guy I could confide in, in fact I related to him as Aunt to a Nephew because we came from the same area. Therefore when he called me one day and advised that I should fortify myself with juju, so that my fortune will no longer nose dive, I started thinking.

“Alhaja, I was just watching you all the while. But I can no longer hold it again. You are like a sister to me even when things were bad, you did not send me away. My observation is that you are too exposed. You go about unprotected. That’s why you are an easy target.”

“What you have just gone through recently should serve as a lesson. Most of your mates in this market have juju men as their backbones. They work for them and wave evil and bad luck away.”

“If you don’t mind, I know of a man who stays in a village not far from here. Alhaja, this man is hot!”

I thanked him and told him to allow me to thing about it. About a month later, he raised the issue again; I decided to give his suggestion a trial. We fixed a date and Rasaq said he had to go and arranged with the man ahead, so he could prepare for us. I allowed him to go.

On the appointed day, we met the juju man, I was expecting an old man, but our host was a man in his forties. He prepared some concoctions and said I should bath with it in the midnight. After this, he said I should not talk to anybody until the day break. He also gave me a substance and a bottle of honey. He said I needed to make some incisions on my head in his presence. He said as a rule, he could not make it. It was either my husband or somebody I see on regular basis.

How could I ask my husband to do such a thing? One, he did not believe in fetish things, two, I did not inform him about the trip. The lot fell on Rasaq. I was the one that made the suggestion, and both of them agreed. He assisted me in making the incisions, seven in all and rubbed the blackish powder on the lacerations.

There was this lazy sister of mine, Tawa was her name. Her husband was a rich man but any time she visited me, her topic of discussion was Rasaq.

“Alhaja, we are ashamed of what people are saying about you and your driver. They alleged that you have abandoned your matrimony and settled for a common driver; your own driver for that matter. Sister, I’m sure this boy had charmed you …”

“Tawa, stop there! It is you they will charm, not me. Busy body, I will tell your husband to find you a time consuming job. You are lazy, that’s why you have time to be listening to hear say. What is my concern with what anybody says? What value will that one add to my trade? Didn’t they talk when the custom seized my goods? Did their talk and fake sympathy bring back my goods?

“Tawakalitu, Elejo! Alaroye, Akede-agbaye!!! Carry your bag and go! Oya take your bag and go!”

I shouted on her and warned her never to come to either my shop or home again. She carried her bag and went out.

There was this all ladies social club that made me their matron. They invited me to their new member initiation ceremony. In the middle of the ceremony, they gave me a glass cup. Every one of them held a glass like the one I was holding. The president went round filling the cups. This seemed strange to me, but when. She started a toast, I relaxed my suspicion. (They later on confirmed this and confessed that they did not drink theirs).

Few minutes later, they invited a middle aged man into the gathering. It seemed as if I had seen him before, but I couldn’t place the face. The president of the club rose up to speak.

“Alhaja, we members of this noble club respect you a lot. We know you are morally upright and have an enviable record as a family woman. Your business accruement came as an appendage. Your name topped the list of the twelve short listed highly place women in town.

We were therefore surprised with what had been going on in your life in recent time. We sensed that a toad was not running in the daylight for nothing. How could this enviable model change overnight? We wondered. This issue saddened us a lot.”

“We embarked on our investigation and found out that Rasaq, your driver was not your benefactor as you believed.”

At this juncture, Tawa, my sister entered the hall and took a seat.

“The man you are seeing here was the man Rasaq took you to in the village.” The president continued, “We would not have known, but Rasaq was a “kiss and tell” person. He used to boast of his sexual escapades with you.

“It’s quite unfortunate that your activities with him had become the talk of the town. We realized that you had been be-witched. Our determination to bail out our matron out of this public disgrace led us to this man. After listening to us, he apologized and promised to right the wrong. The wine you have drunk was the antidote to the charm. For your information Alhaja, we are not initiating any new member. Look around you, can you see any new face? The two non-members here are this man and your sister aunty Tawa, who is also part of this arrangement. She concluded.

I broke down and wept like a baby.