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Tag: My wife

  • ‘My wife, daughter still alive… but in distress in kidnappers’ den’

    •Husband of abducted Ogun council official explains family’s ordeal

    Dr. Tokunbo Oshin, the husband of the abducted Director of Information in Odogbolu Local Government Council, Ogun State, has revealed that his wife, Nofisat Oshin, and daughter, Miss Afolabi Oshin, are “still alive,” but they “sound distressed” in the den of their abductors.

    Oshin, who is former Deputy Speaker of Ogun State House of Assembly,  said the suspected kidnappers had established a telephone contact with the family.

    He added that he had spoken with his wife and daughter.

    But he was silent on whether any step had been taken regarding the N150 million ransom demanded by the abductors.

    Oshin spoke yesterday when a delegation of the state Council of Nigeria Union of Journalists(NUJ) led by the Acting Secretary, Mr. Anthony Gandonu, former NUJ Zonal Secretary Dimeji Kayode-Adedeji  and Chairman, Local Government Information Chapter Mr. Seun Abati, visited him in Ijebu-Ode.

    Nofisat and her 15-year-old daughter, Afolabi, were abducted last Thursday around 8p.m, at the entrance of their Imoru home in Ijebu-Ode.

    They were thereafter whisked away to unknown destination at a gun-point.

    He said: “The incident happened last Thursday. My wife and daughter were in the car and they were almost entering the premises, when the abductors blocked their car with their own car.

    “In fact, the gateman had already opened the gate for them to drive in.

    “Those who saw them said they transferred my wife and daughter into their own car and drove off, while one of them drove my wife’s car.

    “They later abandoned my wife’s car along Idowa-Itokin Road. I want to thank the governor for his concern. He has contacted the Department of State Service (DSS) and other security agencies in a bid to rescue my wife and daughter.

    “Immediately the kidnappers left, men of the Oodua Peoples Congress (OPC) and vigilance service swung into action, thinking  the suspected kidnappers’ escape could be slowed down and perhaps trapped in a traffic jam.

    “The kidnappers had established contact with us and I have spoken with my wife and daughter. They are still alive, but they sound rather distressed.”

    Oshin appealed to the kidnappers to set his wife and daughter free to enable them re-unite with the family.

    He called on Nigerians to join him in prayers for their safe return.

    “The day I will see the two of them will be my happiest day. And I believe that they will come back to this house alive,” Oshin said.

     

     

     

  • ‘A herbalist impregnated my wife… now my life is ruined!’ (2)

    THE day she returned from the village was the day that our lives changed. We had long hours of discussion in order to catch up with all that took place within the period we were apart. That night I hoped that our love making would bring forth a child which we have so longed for, however I did not really believe that the herbalist’s incantation and concoction would get my wife pregnant because only God gives children and not man. It was when I was about to get intimate with my wife that I notice that something had gone wrong. I withdrew from her immediately and asked her:

    “What type of treatment did you receive from the herbalist?” I asked while rolled off her. I was attached to my wife both body and soul. Some people even suspect that I used charm or something of the likes on my wife.

    “How do you mean?” she asked and tried to pull me back.

    “I just want to know,” I said.

    “Is that why you are moving away from me?” she queried.

    “Naomi, you are not the way I left you,” I said, trying to be as calm as possible because I was already angry.

    “Rufus what has gone wrong with you?” she asked.

    “Don’t try to play dumb with me because you know what I am talking about,” I informed her.

    “I don’t understand,” she said with tears running down her face.

    “Someone has touched you and you know how much I detest lies,” I stated firmly.

    “We have been married for thirteen years and I have never cheated on you for once, not even when people advised me to sleep with another man to see if he could get me pregnant or leave you because you were not a man. How can I then go to the village and have an affair?” she asked.

    “That’s a question which only you can answer and please start telling the truth before I do something we will both regret for the rest of our lives,” I threatened.

    “Do your worst because I have told you that no one touched me,” she retorted.

    That night I didn’t touch her and didn’t sleep in the room with her because I was sure that someone had eaten out of my ‘cake’ and it broke my heart that my wife could still fake being faithful to me. After that day, I stopped eating her food or sleeping with her. I went to work early before she woke up and returned home when she had gone to bed.

    Some weeks later, I noticed that my wife’s body was changing, her complexion looked brighter, her breasts looked bigger and she was slow in movement. She tried for weeks for us to have a conversation but I avoided it because I was still mad at her.

    One evening, she came to my new resting place, the living room, and asked if we could have a talk. I refused to listen to her even though she stated her mind even with my rejection.

    “I am pregnant,” she said.

    The words hit me so hard that I felt like doing something to her, but I was able to control myself.

    “What did you just say?” I asked her because I thought I didn’t hear her clearly, but I heard her.

    She repeated her statement.

    “Is this a way of trying to make me talk to you or you have decided to let nonsense come out of your mouth?”

    “I am four months gone,” she said. The demons in me were struggling to act, to do something nasty to her, to shut her mouth but I was able to hold back.

    “What are you saying? Because I can neither make a tail nor a head from your statement. Please make me understand” I urged her.

    “I am pregnant,” she repeated.

    “For who?” The question blurted out of my mouth.

    “Were, when and how did it happen?”

    She was already shaking and couldn’t communicate clearly.

    “I know you are not the owner and that is what I want to explain to you,” she said.

    “Were you this desperate, my dear wife? I don’t need any explanation from you because you are a disgrace to me. No wonder you wanted me to sleep with you so that you can claim that I am responsible for the pregnancy…you’re a wicked woman, Naomi, God has exposed you and your wickedness,” I lamented, but my wife stood still and watched me and cried.

    “Rufus I am sorry for what I did…I was ashamed. I couldn’t just look you in the eyes and tell you that another man slept with me. I am ashamed of myself,” she said.

    “What do you want me to do, father another man’s child? God forbid!” I shouted at her and spat on the floor.  My heart was beating very fast and I felt like punching her so hard in the belly so that the bastard in her can look for another place to develop.

    “Who is responsible for it?” I managed to ask her.  Naomi was too embarrassed to answer and she started crying again.

    Again I asked, “Who is responsible for the pregnancy?”

    “The herbalist,” she revealed.

    “What?” I shouted.

    “Her…ba…list,” she repeated the word slowly and shakily this time. I was dumbfounded, short of words and filled with rage. Wondering what could have made my wife sleep with the herbalist up to the level of him getting her pregnant. Which means it wasn’t once or twice that he slept with her: “Was his sleeping with you part of the treatment or did you do this to bring shame to my name? I won’t let you disgrace me like this, you will go back to your family and give birth to the child because God knows I can’t father that thing… another man’s child. I want a child but not this way,” I informed her. She was just weeping and said nothing.

    “I knew those evil men are not to be trusted.”

    I was so disappointed in my wife that I left the house that night at about 1 am with no destination in mind. I had to leave as I was afraid I could do something drastic to her. I was wondering if I should leave her because I felt humiliated by what she did to me. As I was in my car driving round the town, I wondered what to do, whether to run away from there and start a new life- but I loved her so much, so much that I wouldn’t want to leave her; yet I didn’t want to be with her because another man’s child was inside her.

    I went back home after driving around for what seemed like three hours, my heart beat was so fast that I thought I would have a heart attack that night. I went straight to the room I was occupying and got myself drunk with brandy, thinking that it will take the hurt away, but the heartache refused to go.

    I couldn’t go to work for days, I couldn’t eat nor sleep. It was like the world was on shoulders. Naomi tried to make me eat but I refused her and her food, which I felt would kill me if I put it in my mouth.

    “Don’t disturb me, go and feed your lover the herbalist. I don’t need your food since you have decided to disgrace me this way,” I said. She pleaded but I paid no attention to her.

    I was in this sorry state of mind for three weeks and it landed me in the hospital. It was there in my hospital bed that I made up my mind that my wife would either leave or get rid of the pregnancy. When I got home that day after I was discharged, I told my wife about my final decision. I couldn’t just stay back and watch things continue to be upside-down in our lives.

    “I have told you from the onset that I will not father another man’s child just because I want to be a father, so what do you intend to do with this pregnancy?” I asked hoping that she had thought of what to do with it while I was at the hospital.

    “I don’t know what to do,” she said after much hesitation. “I don’t know what came over me…I am confused and I wish I could wake from this nightmare,” she stated.

    “How do you mean by that, did you not think of the consequences when you opened your legs for that old man? Well, I can’t father another man’s child. The options now are for us to end this marriage or you get rid of that thing,” I told her.

    “What! Leave or get rid of what?”

    “You heard me right woman,” I told her.

    “I can’t believe what you just said. I have made a mistake and every problem has it solution,” she pointed out.

    “I know and I have given you two solutions to make a choice out of it,” I responded.

    My wife later accepted the other option and we made arrangement to see a doctor. It was this very option that made my life what it is today. My Naomi started bleeding few days after visiting the doctor and she died as a result of this.

    I have not been able to tell anyone what really caused the death of my life…I lied that my wife had a miscarriage and died after bleeding for days while guilt have been my companion ever since this happened.

    I regret telling her to get rid of the Babalawo’s baby. If she had kept the pregnancy, my darling wife would be alive today not six feet below. Now, my life is empty, full of regret and pains. Loneliness is my daily companion and there are times I feel like taking my life. For what is the point of going on living without my sweet Naomi?

    – By Udemma Chukwuma

    Concluded

    What do you advise Rufus to do?

    Names have been changed to protect the identity of the narrator and other individuals in the story.

    We welcome comments/suggestions from readers. All correspondence should be sent to 08030822400, (sms only), psaduwa@yahoo.com or psaduwa007@gmail.com.

  • ‘A herbalist impregnated my wife; now my life is ruined’

    I would have picked the other alternative if I had known that my mother’s suggestion would bring calamity to my happy marriage. But as the saying goes, ‘had I known always comes last.’ My marriage was the type every man dreams to have, a union built on love, trust, but it was destroyed because our union was fruitless.

    My mother brought the idea of my wife seeing a herbalist who lived in a village close to ours. My wife and I rejected the idea but we gave in due to her endless pressure from my mother. I could remember that day vividly, the day I accepted the option.

    “Rufus,” my mother called me that evening during our conversation. “It is over thirteen years since you got married and no child to show for it. At first you said you were trying your best, this changed to God knows and from that to God’s time is the best. Don’t you know that heaven helps those who help themselves? All my friends are holding their grandchildren in their arms except me. Do you want me to die without seeing my grandchildren?” Nana, as she was fondly called by all, asked with her hands spread towards heaven as if she was addressing them.

    “Mother, what do you want us to do? Is it not God that gives children and he will give us children at his own time,” I replied.

    “My son, you’re playing with fire and I hope it doesn’t consume you because you’re not getting any younger and the earlier you start looking for your black goat before nightfall, the better for you,” she warned, pulling her left ear.

    “I don’t have any problem going to the place,” said my wife, “but you know your son.”

    “My dear, you can follow me to the place when I’m leaving. Men at times don’t face reality until is too late. Anyway, the place is not as bad as you people think it is. I’m doing this for the sake of the two of you,” she asserted.

    “There is no way I will let my wife see that fetish man just because we want children,” I stressed almost shouting at them. The issue was never discussed until my mother took her leave.

    Naomi continued from where mother stopped and mounted more pressure on me to let her see the herbalist. My home became a living hell for me, I would have said my mother bewitched my wife if not that I knew my mother too well.

    “Honey,” she called me during dinner on a Sunday evening, while holding my hands across the table and said, “Why can’t we try mother’s option and see what happens?”

    “What do you mean by mother’s option?” he asked

    “Don’t you want to have children?” she asked in reply.

    “Am I complaining, and what has come over you? We will surely have children; we will wait as long as it takes.”

    “It’s easy for you to say that because you are not the one receiving all the insult I receive on daily basis due to my inability to give you children,” she complained almost to the point of crying. “Besides, women have limited time for giving birth,” she continued nagging.

    “Please woman, don’t start with your emotional blackmail and let me eat in peace,” I said without taking my face away from the food in front of me.

    Her disturbance became more persistent; in fact, it got to a stage where I did not have peace in my home, which made me allow her travel to the village. My wife took a leave of absence from her office and went to the village. She spent three months and it was not easy for me to cope without her presence in the house because we have never stayed away from each other for that long.

     

    -By Udemma Chukwuma

    To be continued

  • My wife is lazy, says divorce-seeking man

    A divorce-seeking retiree, Joe Ubigho, told an Igando Customary Court in Lagos yesterday that his wife of 19 years was too lazy and had left everything in the house to maids.

    “My wife is very lazy; she has left everything in the house for our maids to do, including cooking,” Ubigho, 57, alleged.

    He told the court that his wife, Rita, 45, could not do anything, and usually flare up and disappear from the house whenever she was queried.

    He said that it was owing to such laziness that he was forced to take their children to a boarding school for proper care.

    The petitioner accused his wife of financial recklessness, saying that she could not manage a business outfit he set up for her.

    “My wife mismanaged the business I established for her. Her shop is now empty and she keeps demanding for money every time,” he said.

    Ubigho said his wife packed out of the house four weeks ago, saying that he was no more ready to take her in.

    He begged the court to dissolve the union.

    Rebutting the allegations, Rita, a businesswoman, said that it was her husband that chased her away from the house threatening to bathe her with acid if she did not leave.

    “My husband threatened to bath me with acid if I refused to leave his house; so, I packed my belongings to stay with a woman whom he knows very well.

    “I pleaded with him to allow me stay in his house to care of my children,” she said.

    She accused her husband of vandalism, saying that he destroyed the car he bought for her.

    She said: “My husband damaged the car he bought for me, he stopped me on the road and demanded for the car key and declared that he was no longer interested in giving me the car.

    “I demanded for an explanation and he threatened to burn me with the car if I refused to comply, before I knew what was happening, he started destroying the windscreen”.

    The mother of three said that she did not mismanage the business her husband set up for her.

    According to her, it was her husband that ordered her to use the business money for new shops he was building, promising to pay her back.

    “Most time, he will come to my shop with strange people, remove some goods for them and promise to pay me— which he never did. Anytime I ask for the money, he will fight me,” she said.

    She promised to take good care of her husband and the children and urged the court not to dissolve the marriage as she was still in love.

    The president of the court, Mr Hakeem Oyekan, adjourned the case to August 17.

     

  • My wife has been my most thorough, reliable critic -Ex-WAEC Registrar and literary icon Eze Prof Chukwuemeka Ike

    My wife has been my most thorough, reliable critic -Ex-WAEC Registrar and literary icon Eze Prof Chukwuemeka Ike

    Former Registrar and Chief Executive of the West African Examinations Council (WAEC), the first Nigerian to hold such position, His Majesty Eze Prof Chukwuemeka Ike (Ikelionwu XI, Eze Ndikelionwu) is one of Nigeria’s rare literary icons. After a successful stint at the University of Ibadan and University of Nigeria, Nsukka as administrator he left for Ghana as Registrar, WAEC. During his tenure at WAEC, the council cut its umbilical cord with the University of Cambridge, University of London, Royal Society of Arts, and City and Guilds of London Institute, to become an autonomous examinations council whose certificates received national and international recognition.

    Last Thursday, the Nigerian International Book Fair, holding at the University of Lagos, Lagos, honoured Prof. Ike with Chukwuemeka Ike Book Jubilee marking his 50 years journey in writing. The acclaimed creative writer, whose first novel, Toads for Supper, was published in London in 1965, has written several short stories, eleven novels, one novel in Igbo, one fictional travelogue, two non-fiction books, four monographs, and edited eight non-fiction books.

    He spoke on story-telling, the moral values in some of his books and role of literature as preservation and dissemination of culture; the documentation of the history of the development of the writer’s society as a people; social criticism; public education and entertainment.

    Early years

    “Government College, Umuahia (1945- 1950) provided a conducive environment in which I began my life career as a creative writer. Each house had a manually inscribed House Magazine, which served as an outlet for creative writing. While I was in class 4, the college introduced a printed College Magazine (later named The Umuahian’. The maiden edition (1948) carried my short story, In Dreamland, giving me my first opportunity to appear in print.

    Our masters (as we called our teachers) were of invaluable help. Mr Charles Low (Australian) comes immediately to mind. Poet and playwright, he taught my class including Christopher Okigbo, how to write poems, and involved us in advancing a play he was writing at the time. His most memorable impact was the poem he wrote on a netball match organised by the college to expose us to girls. The match between the college and the Women’s Training College (WTC) Umuahia was played on a Saturday. The following Monday, Mr. Low came into the class and read out an unforgettable poem titled ‘The WTC are here! ‘. I can still reel out lines from that poem 63 years after. The poem demonstrated the relevance of the creative writer in his society.

    University College, Ibadan (UCI) took off from where Umuahia stopped. Chinua Achebe, who was two classes ahead of me at Umuahia, facilitated my invitation to join the Magazine Club: set up by the University to promote creative writing. ‘The University Herald’, a literary magazine funded by the college authorities, gave me another outlet to appear in print as a short story writer. The Students’ Union set up a rival outlet, ‘The University Voice’, which also helped me to establish as a short story writer.

     

    Back to Umuahia

    Umuahia brought me in contact with another master who influenced my subsequent development. Mr S.O Bisiriyu came to Umuahia with B.A honours in English from Cambridge University and B.A Honours in History from London University. He got drawn to me after grading me 27/30 in a class essay. He left Umuahia to return to England for the Ph.D degree and subsequently became the first Nigerian Registrar of University College, Ibadan with a new name Dr S.O Biobaku. Dr Biobaku sought me out from my job as a graduate teacher and drew me into university administration in January 1957, opening new doors for me and helping to make me what I am today.

    I have already mentioned Chinua Achebe. He was the trail blazer in whom I had implicit faith and trust. My short story, ‘Waiting for his Programme’, was aired by the Nigerian Broadcasting Service while he was on their senior staff. His greatest contribution to my emergence as a published novelist was the publication of his first novel, Things Fall Apart, in 1958. The fact that a close friend, with the same cultural background, who passed through the same crucible with me, could publish a highly acclaimed novel, was all the challenge I needed to become a published novelist. True to his character, Chinua did not dismantle the ladder that took him up to stop others from joining him on top of the iroko. When I went to him with the draft of my first novel, he put me in touch with an Englishman who read my manuscript and made helpful suggestions. In 1965, my first novel was published in London.

    Achebe invited me to join the maiden editorial board of ‘Okike’, an African Journal of New Writing. I was at Stanford University, USA. when he, Christopher Okigbo (the poet) and others established a publishing company, Citadel Press. On my return, I became a joint proprietor.

    Chinua’s wife, Christie, and my wife, ‘Bimpe, were classmates at Queen’s College, Lagos. Chinua’s younger daughter, Nwando, is my God – daughter. Chinua and I had a lifetime friend, Chike Momah. I could go on indefinitely.

    I am grateful to my publishers over the years for the cordial working relationship between me and them, with only one exception- Malthouse Press Ltd, Ikeja, Lagos (publishers of To My Husband, from Iowa). They showed no respect whatever for the publishing agreement between us, and marketed my book within Nigeria and outside Nigeria (through African Books Collective Ltd, Oxford, UK) without rendering accounts or paying any royalties to me. I am particularly grateful to my UK publishers. William Collins Sons and Co Ltd Group-Collins, Harvill Press, Fontana Books – for bringing me into international limelight. I always cherish photographs of my visit to Sir William Collins in his London home in 1964, shortly before the publication of my first novel, Toads for Supper, accompanied by my wife and our 2- year old son, Osita.

    My wife, ‘Bimpe, has been my most thorough and reliable critic. Each time she gave her green light, I felt confident to move to a publisher. Because of the contents of my war novel, Sunset at Dawn, including my description of Nigerian soldiers as “jigger infested vandals”, and the fact that the Nigerian Military Government which crushed Biafra was still in power, a BIAFRAN academic I invited to go through the manuscript blatantly refused to offer any opinion. He was certain the military would pick me up if I went ahead to publish the novel, and feared that in the course of their rigorous interrogation of me it might leak out that I sought his opinion on the draft manuscript. He did not want to die a martyr. ‘Bimpe, who had read the manuscript encouraged me to go ahead and publish it. I timed its publication for 1976, the year preceding FESTAC’77, reasoning that the Nigerian Military Government having offered to host the world in a cultural extravaganza would not arrest and detain a creative writer on the eve of FESTAC’77. I bow to my innumerable readers, in Nigeria and in different parts of the world. It gives boundless joy to have touched so many lives.”

     

    The role of the storyteller

    “Traditional story telling was a key ingredient for inculcating moral values into Igbo children and moulding them into responsible members of the society. The stories in which members of the animal world (particularly the tortoise) featured as principal characters, had no individual authors to claim copyright. They were part of folklore handed down by the elders from one generation to another.

    Socrates is quoted in The Dialogues of Plato as defending himself against the accusation of poking his nose into other people’s affairs by likening himself to the gadfly attached to the society by God, to arouse, persuade, and reproach as appropriate at all times and in all places.

    The Nigerian creative writer, referred to as the storyteller in this lecture, similarly plays the role of gadfly of his society, using his creative work or story to mirror, commend, reproach and persuade his society, his goal being the evolution of a better society. His story is his avenue for prevailing on society to re-examine its values. He attempts to bring order and coherence to bear on life, thereby enabling his reader to learn from the experience depicted in the creative work.

    Chapter 21 of my book: How to Become a Published Writer, proposes broad roles for the creative writer in present day society. These are: the preservation and dissemination of culture; the documentation of the history of the development of the writer’s society as a people; social criticism; public education; and entertainment (1). My novels in their totality reflect my contribution in each of the five roles.  However, for the purpose of this lecture, I shall concentrate on my role in national transformation, essentially a combination of social criticism and public education.

    At the time my first novel, Toads for Supper, was published in1965, the widely acknowledged role of the creative writer was to serve as a mirror of society, held out by the writer to enable the society see itself, warts and all. In the course of my growth as a novelist, I saw my role as going beyond merely showing the mirror. I also saw it as my role to assist in achieving the desired goals.”

    Transforming the child: The Potter’s Wheel (1973)

    “The child is said to be the father of the man. The Jesuits of old claimed that if you gave them your child till he attained the age of six they would account for him for the rest of his life. Proverbs 22: 6 admonished the parent to train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.

    Mindful of the significance of youth to national development, I have so far devoted SEVEN of my full length novels to problems of youth development, earning me the appellation by literary commentators of advocate of the youth.

    I have addressed youth transformation at three levels: the child (primary school), the adolescent (secondary school), and the young adult (tertiary level).

    My third novel, The Potter’s Wheel, focuses on the transformation of the child. It is the first full length Nigerian novel to be written with a Nigerian child as the principal character. It was my first attempt to use the novel to transform a human being. The publication history of The Potter’s Wheel is significant. Harvill Press Ltd, London, published the hard back edition in 1973.Then followed Fontana Books paper back in London in 1974. In 1986, Collins published a simplified, abridged edition in its Collins English Library series, the first Nigerian novel to appear in the series. The novel was first published in Nigeria by University Press Plc in 1993. In 1999, University Press Plc published Anu Ebu Nwa, my Igbo edition of the novel and my only published work so far in Igbo, my mother language. In 2010 Africana First Publishers published the Nigerian edition of the Collins simplified abridged edition. Following the selection of the novel as a text for Literature in English in the Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME), University Press Plc published the UTME edition of The Potter’s Wheel, in 2011.

    The Potter’s Wheel is set in a rural Igbo environment. An itinerant trader, Mazi Lazarus Muduabuchi, popularly called Mazi Laza, had five daughters before his wife bore him a son, Obuechina (shortened to Obu). Mazi Laza and Mama Obu tried for another son after Obu, landed a sixth daughter. Obuechina (may the home stead never revert to bush) and the names given to Obu’s six sisters, bring out the importance attached to the male child in Igbo society.”

  • How do I cope with my wife?

    Hello Madam Harriet,

    Thanks for your good work. I enjoy reading your page because there is always something to learn. Please madam; I want your advice on my relationship. I met my woman 13 years ago. We got our first child after some years and we recently had our third child last year. We only started living together recently, although our marriage is unofficial. I found out I’m the only one that truly loves, showing love and care about everything. She’s someone with quiet and sluggish attitude even in thoughts. She believes in expressing her love and care inside of her without actions which she lacks. I’ve talked with her a lot, but she won’t listen and every discussion turns to grudges, even after morning prayers. I’m a year older than her and I guess she does things wrongly with this advantage of age barrier. I’m a very playful person and I hate dull moments, but she never welcomes any expression of feelings. She makes our home to be so boring for me and this makes me sad most times. Only God and my kids are just the source of my happiness at home. She has never requested for sex since I met her and I have to force her before having sex with her. Her sexual stress pushed me out to start having affairs which I want to stop.  I always get too nice with ladies that if care is not taken with these affairs, I might end up with a mistress which I see as a disaster.  My woman has never respected me when we are alone, but in the sight of people, she’s the best. She talks anyhow to me with no respect. She does things at her convenient time. She has responses to everything I say and have silly chuckles. She makes me hit her when I can’t bear her foul actions. She’s my first love and  always makes me regret getting hooked to her. She once said she regretted getting married to me. Imagine! Every time I go to her for advice, her responses are discouraging. We just moved to our house a few months which she rarely visited during construction, but all she could do was to complain about how everything was wrongly place in the house. I’ve reported her to her parents, her only friend and even our church pastor, but still there is no change. The worst part is that she doesn’t know how to apologize. We’ve agreed on getting married officially by August this year, but my fear is can I continue with this bad-mannered and moody woman that never shows me love at home? Ma, I’m forcing her to love me and trying all my best to make her smile. The way she approaches me is always disrespectful. I’ve always planned to leave home, but I can’t leave my kids for just one day without missing them. I never get appreciated by my wife. I get satisfaction outside than my home by all love standards. Just a few days ago, I was hungry since she is never up early. I decided to make something for myself. Just as I was eating, she came out to nag me. I later slapped her.  I hardly get angry, but she always pushes me to the wall which I don’t like. Ma, I want a break and before then, I need your marital advice because I need true love and happiness in my home. Please, help with your advice.

     

    God Bless you.

    Akin O., Lagos

     

    Thanks for sharing your experience with us. We are really very grateful. In many varied circumstances, man and woman counter complain against each other when it comes to leaving together. Bearing in mind that these are different persons from different backgrounds with different personalities, coming together to live as one. It is the greatest challenge ever. The only way out is actually understanding each other’s strengthes and weaknesses. Our differences are what make us unique. However, the question that comes to mind is: what was the initial attraction because you have known her for years now. There must be some kind of love that existed between you and your partner, so what went wrong is the big question that we should try and find out because people express their worries or problems in different ways. In your case, you might feel that you are doing everything to make her happy. That’s your story What is her story? In every relationship, each partner has expectations. It is always important to make these expectations explicit. The best way is through communication. I am happy to know that you have talked a lot to your partner about how her action is affecting you, but on her own, she will not listen. For communication to be effective, the following must be put into consideration: What is being communicated. How is it being communicated. When is it being communicated. Through good communication, initial problems will be discovered and resolved before growing into  bigger problems because through interaction, a bond is created between partners and it gets stronger by the day. Through this process, partners will know each other’s needs. It gives the sense of team work, removes barriers and obstacles. Furthermore, when there is problem at home, having extramarital affair with someone else is never the solution to the problem. Instead, it destroys the situation completely. For example, to the lady out there, she will do everything for you to see her as the best thing that happens to you. She will try to avoid all the wrongs that you must have told her about your partner. Come to think of it, how much time do you spend with her to claim that you know her well enough. You might feel she makes you happy and has everything you need in a woman. Infidelity destroys a home. Relationship has its ups and downs. The way forward is to tackle the issues as they come. A lot must be put into consideration in decision-making, especially when children are involved. The effect of separation on children is a tough one, so before taking any action, partners should try and resolve their problems, seek professional help, if need be  who will take you and your partner through the process in confidentiality. However, you might ask the question why me, why not her changing her ways to make it work. Well, it takes one person to make a change. Remember you can only change yourself and through the new you, the other person will learn to change as well. Again, there’s no excuse for domestic violence no matter what she said or how she pushed you to it. Don’t hit her because once you start, there will be no end to it. A man should learn to control himself when it comes to dealing with women.

    Harriet Ogbobine is a counsellor and  motivational speaker. Send in your questions and suggestions to her on bineharriet@gmail.com. You can also follow her on twitter@bineharrietj or txt messages only to 08023058805.

  • ‘My wife always threatens me with knife’

    A clearing and forwarding agent, Salihu Hadi, has prayed the Alakuko Customary Court in Lagos to dissolve his marriage to Blessing.

    He alleged that Blessing leaves the house without his consent and has no respect for his family.

    Hadi said: “I usually have a hectic day at work. But I am never happy going back home after work because my wife always welcomes me with a knife, with the intent to harm me. She would always make a fuss that I come home late. I am tired of telling her the nature of my job. She nags a lot and calls my family names. Now, my parents no longer visit us because of her attitude. She doesn’t tell me about any social event she is invited to. Oh, I am really frustrated! I am no more interested in her. I am tired of this unrequited love. In fact, I don’t want any settlement because she can never change. I want to marry someone from my tribe who will treat me as a king.”

    Blessing, however, denied the allegations saying: “Though I have a child for him, they still refer to me as “Ibo” because of my tribe. His family is too strict. They don’t love me at all. All this is happening because he wants to marry from his tribe. I sincerely don’t want a divorce.”

    The three-year-old marriage is blessed with a child, Faridat.

    The court President, Mr. Olubode Sekoni, ordered the parties to maintain peace and adjourned the matter till September 22.