Tag: Relationships

  • Flora Forever (1)

     

    • A chance meeting through an accident early one morning in a street in Lagos would have a profound effect on Bari, the narrator of this story and the accident victim, Flora…

    It was about seven in the morning and I was on my way to work. I was running quite late so I was in a bit of a hurry. Maybe that was the reason I did not see the lone figure, a woman that suddenly dashed across the road right in front of my car. I applied the breaks as fast as possible to avoid hitting her. But it was too late. I heard a crunching sound and a cry of pain and I quickly parked and ran out of the car. Seeing the blood from a gash on her head, I initially thought she was dead. Then I heard her moan and she opened her eyes.
    “Are you alright?” I asked worriedly, my hand on the uninjured side of her head.
    She gazed at me without speaking, moaned again then closed her eyes. I was already late for work but I could not leave her lying there by the roadside. Besides, a few passersby had gathered and were asking questions. With their help, I placed her in the back seat of my car and drove to my family hospital. 
    She was admitted and I stayed for a while to ensure she would be ok. I later left for work after instructing one of the nurses I knew to call me if they needed anything.
    On my way from work that night, I stopped by the hospital. I was glad to see that she was awake, sitting up and taking some drugs. Standing by the bedside was a nurse as well as another woman I had not seen before.
    “How are you feeling now?” I asked her after the nurse had told her I was the one who had brought her to the hospital.
    Before she could answer, the other woman said angrily:
    “So you are the idiot that almost killed my sister this morning! Why can’t you these drivers look where you are going?”
    “Take it easy, sister. It’s not like that. It was actually my fault,” the lady I hit, stated. Then turning to me, she added:
    “Please, don’t take any notice of her. She can be temperamental at times…”
    “And what’s that supposed to mean?” demanded the sister.
    I spoke up then.
    “Madam, I’m sorry for what happened. It was an accident and not intentional.”
    That seemed to calm her down a bit.
    Later, I introduced myself to her sister and spoke for sometime with her.
     “I’m Flora,” she said, extending her hand for a handshake. I studied her for a while. The injury on her head had been bandaged and it didn’t look as if she was injured on any other part of her body. I felt relieved at that as I had feared that she could have broken a leg or other body part. 
    “I’m glad to see you sitting up and looking alright,” I said. 
    She smiled a little then laid back on the bed.
    Before leaving, I spoke to the nurse briefly about Flora’s condition along the corridor outside her room.
     “The doctor said the injury was not deep so she will be fine. But she has to remain in the hospital for a couple of days as we need to do an x-ray to ensure there are no internal injuries,” 
    she explained.
    It was three days later she eventually left the hospital. I felt responsible for what happened so  since it was a weekend and I did not go to the office, I took her home. She lived with her elder sister, Aunty Janet the one I met at the hospital. 
    In the house were two young girls and an older girl who looked a lot like Flora.
     I initially thought the children were her elder sister’s kids.
    But when we entered the house, they ran to her shouting ‘Mummy’ and embraced her.
    I looked at her in surprise. To me, she looked too young to be a mother, much less, a mother of two. I didn’t even know she was married as I had not seen any man with her at the hospital.
    “Mummy, where have you been? Did you buy anything for me?” the younger girl who looked about four stated.
    Flora smiled and patting them fondly, turned to me.
    “This is Uncle Bari. Say hello to him.”
    “Welcome Uncle,” they both chorused looking up curiously at me.
    I smiled at them then sat down on a chair.
    Aunty Janet and the older girl who was Flora’s younger sister, Patricia had gone to where I presumed was the kitchen as I could hear the noise of pots being opened and closed.
    “Thanks for bringing me home. You didn’t even have to. I could have found my way home easily,” she said, sitting on a chair to my right.
    “It was nothing. As I said, I feel responsible. What if something worse had happened? We won’t be sitting here chatting like this,” I noted.
    She nodded then said:
    “You are right. Maybe, it’s not time for me to go yet.”
    The elder sister brought some drinks later and Flora and I sat drinking for a while and chatting.
    I was curious about her and there were some questions I wanted to ask her. But I didn’t, as I felt it would be rude of me to be prying in her private affairs.
    I left a short while later, turning down her offer of staying for dinner with them.
     “There’s somewhere I have to be in the next 30 minutes,” I explained as she saw me to my car.
    As I drove off, I could see her from my side mirror, standing by the gate of the building and waving.
    I did not see Flora again for a while. I was busy with work and other things that took up my attention. But I called occasionally to check on her health and she always told me she was fine.
    It was about three weeks later, on a rainy evening when I ran into her again. I was returning home from a visit to a friend when I saw her standing at a bus top, taking shelter from the pouring rain. 
    I wound down the window on the passenger’s side and called to her.
     Seeing me, she ran towards the car and got in.
    “Where are you going?” I queried after we exchanged greetings.
    She stated she had gone to the market and was returning home.
     “The rain started without warning and I didn’t bring an umbrella from home,” she said.
     I enquired after the children. Then, turning to her, stated:
    “And your husband? I’m yet to meet him. Did he travel or something?” I asked.
    She remained silent and simply stared straight ahead through the windscreen.
     Then, to my shock, I saw tears streaming down her cheeks and onto the blue top she had on.
    “Is there anything the matter? Did I say something to upset you?” I asked in a concerned tone.
    She sniffed and shook her head.
    I opened the glove compartment and bringing out a hankie, gave it to her.
    She took it silently then broke down and began sobbing.
    I looked for a space close to a busy bus top and parked. 
     I sat, silent and waited for the weeping to subside.
    It was a full ten minutes later before she was able to get control of herself. 
     She wiped her face with the hankie and said:
    “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” she stated.
     “It’s ok,” I assured her. “If you are having any problem, you can talk to me. As a friend. I’ll be happy to help in any way,” I added, turning to take her hand in mine.
    She sighed then stated:
    “Thanks for the offer. But there’s nothing you can do. You see, it’s my husband or rather my estranged husband as we are separated…”

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  • Touch of Fate (1)

    • Prologue
      Somewhere on a campus in Nigeria- 2002

    The four friends in the black SUV had had a great time at the party and were on their way back to their campus in the early hours of the morning. They had written their last papers the previous day and in a few days, they would all be leaving school for the last time. The party had been their way of ‘cooling off’ from all the stress of their final exams as well as hanging out together for the last time.
    Except for the one driving, the others were slightly drunk. As they drove along, they spoke in slurred tones of some of the things that had gone down at the party. The main topic was the fight that had broken out between one of their classmates and another boy over a girl.
    “Men, that Derek is a fool. Why would he fight over a girl when there are so many out there,” one of them at the back remarked.
    “Do you blame him? That babe is really hot! Is it her mesmerizing eyes? Or those ‘killer’ curves of hers?” said his back seat mate.
    “Don’t tell me you’ve been ‘scoping’ her all this while,” the one in the passenger seat in front stated, turning round to look at his friends at the back.
    This caused much ‘yabis’ (insults) being thrown at the one at the back seat who had made the remark.
    They had just driven past the library sometime later when it happened. As the driver turned into the road that led to their hall of residence, he ran into a dark figure that had run across the road. It was a dark spot as there were no street lights by that part of the road. 
    “What was that?” the guy in the passenger seat asked the driver. Their friends at the back had fallen asleep and were dead to the world.
    They both got down and rushed to the figure on the ground. It was too dark to see properly but they could tell it was a female. She lay still, not making any sound.
    “Is she dead?” he asked his friend.
    “I don’t know,” he replied, bending down to look at the figure. He shook her gently on the shoulder but got no response. “Maybe we should take her to the clinic,” he stated.
    “We can’t. What if she’s dead? We will be charged for murder,” he stated, a frightened tone in his voice. Taking his friend’s hand, he said: “Let’s go. There’s nothing we can do for her.”
    The other guy reluctantly got up and they went into the car and drove away. As they left, the prone figure on the ground groaned a little then lay still once more…

    Ten years later…
    The banking hall was crowded as usual that Friday morning. Don, a tall, slim man in a blue shirt and black trousers, stood at the entrance, wondering how long it would take him to transact the business he had come for. He made his way to one of the queues and was taking his place behind the last person on the line when he heard his name. 
    He saw a young lady sitting at a desk in the open space behind the counter waving at him.
    He went over and stood by the counter. She looked strangely familiar though he couldn’t remember where he had seen her before.
    “Come inside,” she invited him, pointing to the small opening near the wall.
      The lady called Helen turned out to be a school mate of Don at the university. She had in fact been course-mates and a friend of his cousin Tasha who had been two years his junior.
    “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. You look so different,” he stated, looking at her closely. He could remember her as a somewhat skinny girl with a pimply face who always wore her hair in braids. That student of many years ago was in sharp contrast to the pretty-looking, confident lady in a dark suit with her hair in a long, sleek weave. She had put on some weight and it suited her.
    She smiled at his words.
    “I understand what you mean. Sometimes I hardly recognize myself when I look at my old pictures,” she noted. 
    “You are looking really fine,” he stated in an admiring tone. “You work in this bank?” he asked, looking round the office.
    “Yes. I’ve been here for about four years.”
    “That’s good. Hope you are enjoying the job…”
    They sat chatting about school days and old friends they had not seen for years.
    “What about Tasha? I’ve not seen or heard from her for a long time,” she stated. Don told her she was based abroad and was married with kids.
    “That’s nice,” Helen said quietly.
    Later, after she had assisted him in his transaction at the bank, she saw him off to his car.
    That was when he noticed the limp. She walked as if one of the legs was shorter than the other and it affected her gait. Since it could not have been caused by high heeled shoes as she was in a pair of flat pumps, he wondered what could be responsible. He could not remember her walking that way back in school.
    He got into the car and before starting the engine he glanced at her legs then up at her face.
      She noticed him staring and sighed.
    “I know you must be wondering about my leg. It’s a long story, something I will tell you some other time,” she said. 
    “Let’s meet up for lunch one of these days then,” he stated. They exchanged numbers before he drove off.
    Shortly after, Don travelled out of town on official business. He was so busy that he forgot all about his lunch date with Helen. It was on his return that he got a call from her.
    “Oh! I’m so sorry! I know I should have called but I’ve been really busy at work. You know how it is,” he said apologetically.
    “Is it just work or its something else?” she asked in a teasing tone of voice.
    “Like what?” he asked, sounding puzzled.
    “Like girls, perhaps. You used to have quite a reputation of being a ladies man back in school,” she said.
    He laughed at that.
    “That was then. I’m a changed person now, much more serious-minded,” he noted.
    They chatted for a while and before hanging up, Don said he would love to take her out for dinner that weekend. She agreed to the date then hung up.
    “Who were you talking to that has put such a big smile on your face, Helen? That is making you look so happy,” asked Tina, a colleague who sat close to her.
    “I’m always happy,” she replied, as she checked some figures on the computer.
    “I know. But today, you are glowing. Tell me the secret,” she persisted.
    “Just face your work, ok. Busybody,” Helen said scornfully.
    “Or is it that tall, fine bros that came the other day? Is he your new boyfriend? Gist me now!” Tina asked again.
    “Mind your business!” Helen said, getting up and walking away towards the restroom.
    “Hmm. Some people are so stingy; they don’t know how to share. What’s wrong in giving me a little gist about the guy? Na wa oh,” Tina said to herself before resuming her work on the computer.
    Some days later, they went for dinner at a nice restaurant not far from her office.
      “Why are you smiling?” Helen queried, looking across the table at him. They had placed their orders and were waiting for the food to be served.
    “I’m comparing that skinny little girl on campus all those years ago with the beauty I’m looking at now,” he said, smiling at her. “Whatever happened to her?” he asked.
    She gave a short laugh before saying:
      “Well, she grew up. I was in my teens back then. And teenagers grow up,” she pointed out.
    “You are right. It’s a good thing you didn’t look like this back then. You wouldn’t have escaped,” he stated.
    “Escaped what?” she said, taking a sip of her drink.
    He pointed at his chest. 
    “Me,” he said, grinning broadly.
    “So, I was right then. About your bad boy reputation,” she said.
    “Yeah. We did a lot of crazy stuffs in those days. We were young then…” he said, his mind going to a certain incident that happened on a dark, moonless night all those years ago.
    It was about a week later when they met up for drinks that she told him about the accident that broke her leg.
    “It was towards the end of the session and it was exam period. I had two more papers to write so that evening I had gone to the library with a friend of mine. She had however, left just before midnight, saying she was feeling sleepy. I stayed for another hour or so before deciding to return to my room,” she stated.
    She said it was on the way to her hall of residence that the accident occurred.
      “Everything happened so fast. I was close to the library and I remember crossing the road when a car came on high speed round the corner and knocked me down. It was a dark night and there were no street lights at that spot. Anyway, I must have been unconscious for I woke up the following day at the school clinic. I had a lot of bruises all over my body and my right leg was broken as well.” She added that her parents later came and took her to another hospital where they tried to set the bones on her leg. “They really tried. But the damage to the bone was much. So, by the time the leg healed, I ended up with a limp,” she said.
    “I’m really sorry to hear about this. It must have been terrible for you. Can you remember the day this incident happened?” asked Don curiously.
    “Of course. Its a day I can never forget,” Helen stated, telling him the date.
    “And the car that hit you? Can you remember it and the person driving it?” he asked earnestly.
    She shook her head.
    “I told you it was dark. I never saw the driver of the car. But I remember the car looked big, like a jeep…”
    At her words, a cold chill like the type that descends on one about to have a fever, came upon him. He stared at her, a dazed look on his face.
    “It can’t be. It can’t be. No way…” he kept muttering to himself.
    “Don! What’s the matter? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!” Helen said, looking worriedly at him…

     

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  • My master’s son (4)

    My master’s son (4)

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    I quickly picked up the paper and my heart froze as I read the story. The report was about Edward. It stated that he had been involved in a car accident a few days before and that he was in a critical condition in an undisclosed hospital.

    ‘While the doctors are battling to save his life, a source close to the family disclosed that his parents are making frantic efforts to have him taken to a hospital abroad,’ I read. I stared at the paper in disbelief, not believing what was before my eyes.

    Edward in an accident? How did this happen? Different thoughts kept swirling through my mind. I was walking away from the vendor’s stand in a daze when the man said: “Aunty, you never give me money for the paper o!”

    I apologised, paid him and left. Throughout that day, I thought about nothing else but the accident.

    I kept praying that he would be alright. I longed to get an update on his situation but there was no one I could reach immediately. My mother had stopped working for the Addamsons some time ago after my grandmother fell seriously ill. She had resigned and had relocated to the village to take care of the old woman. As soon as I closed from work, I took a cab and rushed to the family house. 

    The place had not changed much since I left. The security men at the gate, on recognising me, let me in. None of the family members was at home, they said. It was one of the maids, Charity, who gave me a bit of information on the situation. She said his parents were travelling with him that night to a foreign hospital.

    “We are all praying so Oga Edward will recover soon,” she said. 

    It took months before Edward had recovered enough from his injuries to return to Nigeria. And it was not a full recovery as I found out when I went to visit him at home. He was in a wheelchair, a result of the spinal cord injuries he had sustained in the accident. Though I was so happy to see him alive, I felt bad seeing the once vibrant and lively Edward sitting in a wheelchair, unable to walk. 

    That first day, I spent a long time with him and it was like old times even though circumstances had changed. He was married now, had survived a near fatal accident and was confined to a wheelchair. His wife, Cherry was hardly around as she still lived in their marital home while Edward was at the family home during his recuperation period.

    Anytime, I visited, Edward was always very happy to see me. We would spend many hours chatting, watching movies together or playing some board games like Scrabble which he loved. It got to a point that he even suggested I should move back to the house so I could be closer to him. It was in the evening and the nurse who attended to him at home, had closed for the day.

    “What about your wife? How will she feel when she hears that a former girlfriend of yours had moved into your home?” I asked. 

    He smiled wryly before stating:

    “My wife? How many times do you see her here?”

    “Maybe she is busy with her job,” I suggested.

    “What job? Cherry doesn’t work! She is probably too busy with her shopping and hanging out with her equally rich and idle friends to have time for her crippled husband!” he said with some bitterness. Besides his wife, I wondered about his parents reactions too. Afterall, it was due to their interference that Edward and I had broken up. Though to be fair to them, since my return, they had been very friendly especially seeing how my presence made their son happy and less depressed about his condition.

    Back to base

    With no objections from his parents, I moved back to the house. Truth was, I wanted to be close to him so I could help in any way in his recovery. So, I did not mind the relocation. Each day, after closing from the office, I always looked forward to going home so I could be with Edward. With time, he became almost like his old self and less prone to bouts of depression and self-pity.

    Things went on this way until about a year after I had been living there. I returned from work one evening to find Edward looking despondent. Thinking he was in pain or something, I asked if I should send for the nurse to give him some drugs.

    He shook his head.

    “I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong with me,” he said.

    It was much later I found out what had been bothering him. He told me that his wife, Cherry had filed for divorce and wanted out of the marriage.

    “Can you believe she broke the news to me by text message? She did not even have the courtesy to come here and tell to my face that she is no longer interested in the marriage. All because I’m now wheel chair bound! She says she is too young to be saddled with a husband who is virtually a cripple and can’t perform his duties as a man anymore! And that she has fallen for some one else!” I could see he was getting really upset so I tried to calm him down.

    His parents were equally shocked when they heard what Cherry had done. 

    “What kind of wife would abandon her husband in his hour of need?” said his mother one day when she was discussing the issue with a friend of hers who had come to visit Edward.

    “It shows the state of the world today. Most young people don’t take their marital vows seriously. They jump ship at the first hint of trouble. No patience at all!” the friend chipped in.

    Some months later, after the breakdown of his marriage, Edward’s mother sent for me one day. We had a long chat, with the main focus being Edward. She pleaded with me to overlook the past, particularly the shabby way her husband and herself had treated me while Edward and I were dating.

    “I realize now, we made a mistake. We should not have stopped you both from being together.  I can see that my son really loves you and you genuinely care for him. Look at the way you’ve been caring for him since his illness. You have stood by him while the stupid, so called wife has abandoned him,” she said.

    She told me that Edward had spoken to her about resuming our old relationship, that he even wants to marry me.

    “I want to plead with you to please accept his proposal when he eventually summons the courage to ask you. Chief and I can now see that you are the only one who can make him truly happy. Please, Laura, my dear, he needs you now. We are ready to do anything you want. All we ask is just be with our son and make him happy again, be his old self once more” she stated earnestly.

    True to her words, Edward proposed to me a few days after his mother spoke to me. He said he had not stopped loving me and could not imagine being with anyone now except me. I did not turn him down or accept. I simply told him to give me sometime to think about it. 

    “I’ll be travelling to the village to visit my mother. I’ll give you an answer on my return,” I told him. He did not seem to mind, stating he was ready to wait as long as ‘my answer would be favorable to him.’

    Though I still loved Edward and it would make me very happy to be his wife, I had not fully forgotten the pain his parents put me through after they broke up our relationship. Now, they are begging the same person they did not want anything to do with their son because of her poor background, to marry him. How ironic! What will happen tomorrow if Edward recovers fully and they remember my roots and want to kick me out again? The last tests by some specialists doctors who had examined Edward showed he could regain the use of his legs with time and proper care. A physiotherapist had even been engaged to work on him.

    So, this time around, I want to be careful. My trip to see my mother in the village is to seek her advice on the matter. She is older and wiser and would advise me on the best decision to take. 

    I also want readers of my story to make an imput, to advise me about the issue- should I accept Edward’s proposal or not? Thank you.

    Concluded

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

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  • ‘I caught my husband in bed with his mistress’ (1)

    ‘I caught my husband in bed with his mistress’ (1)

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    • Now my home is in disarray!
    This is the story of Jessica, a lady who out of the love she had for her boyfriend overlooked his murky past, with dire consequences. She fell in love with him and believed him when he promised her paradise; but in the end, hell was all she got!
    ***
    “Everyone is inside having fun and you are here, just staring at  the garden. What’s so fascinating about those plants?” I had been so engrossed in my thoughts, I had not noticed the man who had come up quietly to stand besides me on the verandah. He was of average height, not much taller than me with a quiet confidence about him. 
    “Just taking in some fresh air. It was getting too hot in there,” I told him. It was a birthday party of a friend of my flatmate Trina and as the night progressed, the party was getting more raucous by the minute.
    “Yeah, I get you. All that loud music, cigarrette smoke and chatter of the guests can give one a migraine. I’m Kel by the way. And you are?”
    “Jessica,” I introduced myself.
    We got talking after that. He was a friend of the boyfriend of the celebrant, he told me and had been practically dragged to the bash.
    “I have a very important presentation to make at the office on Monday and I need a lot of time to work on it. But Jerry said all work and no play will make me develop premature grey hair. So here I am!” he said with a grin.
    “Same here. Today is the fifth anniversary of my mother’s death. I wanted to have a quiet time 
     for remembrance but Trina would not hear of it, stating that my Mum would not be happy wherever she is to see me so sad,” I said.
     “I think your friend is right. Life is for the living; the best way to honour her memory is to live well. And talking about living, I think it’s time we hit the dance floor. So, lady, can I have this dance?” he said. And taking my hand, he led me inside the house where the Kokomaster D’Banj’s hit tune was blasting from the speakers…
    That was how I met Kel. After that evening of the party, we became friends and began seeing each other regularly. Kel was the first man in three years I had become close to and it surprised my friend, Trina. In the past, she had set me up on dates with guys she knew but I had simply not been interested. That was until Kel came on the scene. 
    A dark past
    At the beginning, she seemed to like him too, stating that I must have been waiting for someone ‘like him’ that’s why I turned down the other men who were interested in me. Then, about four months when Kel and I began dating, she told me things she said she had heard about his past that nearly ended our growing romance.
    “I know you will say it’s none of my business, Jessy but you are my friend and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Kel is a nice guy and he’s loving too but there’s something you need to know about him,” she said one night at home. I had just returned from work and I was having a late dinner.
    “What are you talking about?” I asked her as I took a sip of fruit juice.
    She gazed at me for a while before speaking.
    “I heard he was married in the U.S when he lived there and even has a child.”
    “I know. He has told me about it. The boy is about seven years old and he lives with the mother in the States- they are divorced. So, what about it?” I queried.
    “Did he tell you why they got divorced?” she said.
     I shook my head.
    “He only told me they were having problems and he left and returned to Nigeria when he could not cope with the situation anymore,” I told her.
    “That’s not the whole story,” she noted. She then went on to give me the full gist of what happened to Kel while he was abroad, how he used to regularly abuse his wife physically to the extent that the police became involved.
    “I learnt he served a short time in prison for wife battery, domestic violence and other offences,” she added. “You know over there, the authorities don’t joke with cases like that- its a serious offence for a man to beat his wife. It’s unlike here where such incidences are often swept under the carpet and the women suffer in silence,” Trina added.
    I was shocked at her words. While Kel had told me a lot about his time in the States, first as a student, then as a staff in an IT firm, he never mentioned his going to prison for domestic violence. My Kel, a wife beater? I found it difficult to believe that the gentle looking man I had been seeing these past months was capable of beating a woman, much less his wife. 
    Trina assured me she had got the story from an authoritative source, ‘someone who knew him from his days in the U.S,’ as she stated.
    That he had spent time in prison was bad enough but keeping it from me was worse. How could he do that, I fumed.
    “He should have told me about it,” I murmured to myself feeling upset.
    “I think it’s best you ask him. I can see you like him a lot and he is obviously smitten with you. I see the way he looks at you; it’s the look of a man in love. But before you guys go further in the relationship, you need to be more open with one another. Keeping secrets can ruin a good relationship,” Trina advised.
     The following day, a Saturday, Kel came in the evening to pick me up for an outing we had. I sat him down in the living room and confronted him with Trina’s story. Initially, I thought he would deny it and call it the handiwork of ‘idle gossips’ but to my surprise, he readily admitted to serving time in prison. 
    “I know I should have told you about it, but it’s in the past, and it’s a time of my life I want to forget. Some bad things went down while I was in the States; I used to drink and smoke a lot and I did some things I’m not proud of today including doing hard drugs. But I have put it all behind me. And I want you to do the same, Jessy. I’m a changed person and have put behind me my rough past. I’m sorry for keeping it from you but I felt it might affect the way you feel about me. And I don’t want to lose you now that I have found you,” he stated.
    “No matter what my reaction might be, you should have still told me about it. I don’t feel good hearing about it from someone else,” I grumbled.
    “I know, dear. It was bad of me. Please forgive me,” he pleaded earnestly. He sounded really contrite and my resolve to take a break from the relationship, to cool things a bit, died at that moment.
    At that point, I realized I was in love with him and the thought of leaving him at that stage was unthinkable. He had become an important part of my life and I just could not leave him then. Besides, as he had pointed out, it was all in the past and he was a changed person. So, who was I to judge him based on things in his life that happened years before I met him, I reasoned.
    ***
    Instead of breaking us up, the issue of his past brought Kel and I closer. Though very busy because of his job, Kel nonetheless created time to be with me. Most times, we would go on some outings like parties or visiting friends or just stay at home chilling. At a point, I was spending more time at his apartment than in my own place and Trina began to complain about my long absence from home.
    “I never knew when you started seeing Kel that he was going to snatch my best friend away from me,” she said one Saturday morning at our flat.
    “What did you say? Who is snatching who?” I asked, looking at her wonderingly.
    “Is that not what he has done? I hardly see you these days! I’m practically living alone in this house because you are never around,” she stated.
    “Ha, ha ha! You are funny Trina! Nobody snatched me from you. You will remain my friend till eternity,” I assured her.
    “It’s easy for you to say. I don’t even see much of you now. What will happen when you two get married?” she queried.
    “Who’s talking about marriage? Anyway, wait till that time comes. Stop stressing yourself now over that,” I told her.
    “I have to. You are my best friend. Until your Kel came and has taken over your life. Now we hardly see,” she said in a grumbling tone.
    “I know your problem. You are just jealous!”
    “Jealous ke? I’m just saying the truth. And the truth is that he’s nothing but a best friend snatcher!” she declared.
    I laughed and went to my room to get my dirty clothes for washing. I wanted to finish all my chores that morning as Kel was coming round in the afternoon to take me out to some where ‘special’ as he had put it…
     Names have been changed to protect the identity of Jessica and other individuals in the story

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  • HOW FELA’S PERSONALITY AFFECTED MY RELATIONSHIPS –FEMI KUTI

    HOW FELA’S PERSONALITY AFFECTED MY RELATIONSHIPS –FEMI KUTI

    Femi Kuti, the eldest son of music icon, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, and Crown Prince of Afrobeat music, speaks to JANE KOLADE about growing up as Fela’s son, his music, his background and beliefs.

    HOW has life as Fela’s son been?

    I keep getting asked the same question, and I keep giving the same answer; I would not even know the difference, since I have never been anyone else’s son, and do not intend to be.

    Has it been a plus or a minus, considering that you will always be compared to him?

    It depends on which side you look at it from. I don’t see it that way. I loved my father, and I am happy about my life. You could say it’s a minus that it was hard to have close relationships when we were young, when we were introduced to the families, people would say things like, ‘Ehhh! Won fe mu omo Fela wale?’ (he/she wants to bring a Fela offspring home). Then your boyfriend or girlfriend will say don’t come to my house again, because my parents don’t see you as the right kind of person. But that made us, Fela’s kids, stronger. We walk on the streets; the masses see us and love us. Sometimes you are in a taxi, and because you are Fela’s kid, sometimes people take you for free. Others might overcharge you because some will say Omo olowo leleyi, Fela lowo (this is Fela’s son; Fela is rich). For me, however, I would rather just live my life. I don’t have any complaints, as I love my father.

    How do you feel when people compare you to him?

    I don’t see any basis for comparison. I will give you a brief anecdote. When my father first got me to listen to Jazz, and when I got into it, and understood what Charlie Parker, and Dizzy Gillespie were about, I realised that I could not be those guys, knowing that I could never play like them. So I was at a crossroad. It was either I stopped playing music, or continue playing. Having identified that I could not be Dizzy Gillespie, or Charlie Parker, at least I could be Femi Kuti.

    That is the same way I have dealt with those who compare me to my father. I can never be Fela, it is not possible. But if I don’t look like him, sound like him, and play like him; you would have to ask my mother who my father is? I loved my father so I have never seen a basis for competition. I have always known that I would have to work ten times harder to live up to the expectations.

    There is no competition. He will always be my father, especially because he was a professional to the core. You could not make a mistake on the stage, so you had to be right. If you were not, he would not mince words. I remember showing him my first composition, and he said, “If you are going to compose a song, make sure people can dance to it.”

    You perform more abroad than in Nigeria.

    Not these days, I perform more at the shrine. I have cut down on my tours a lot.

    Could you relate your background to your career success?

    Only one thing is responsible; hard work. I did not say because I am Fela’s son, I would use my father as leverage to become what I am. As I earlier said, I quickly identified that I could never be my father. I did not want to be my father. I fought against the resemblance, or copying my father, which at the beginning worked against me, as there were people who did not like the fact that I kicked against it.

    There were people who wanted me to just be exactly, or do exactly what my father was doing. Many critics condemned me. Even when I wrote my hit album, Wonder, Wonder, people claimed it was Fela that wrote the album for me. But, luckily for me, after Fela passed on, I had my international hit, Bang, Bang, Bang. At least, nobody could say Fela wrote the song for me.

    Since Fela’s demise, some claim that the following of Afrobeat has declined. Do you agree?

    That is not true. There is a Fela play, a Fela documentary.  Many people have been coming out to say that they have been fanatics of Fela; the likes of Jay Z, Beyonce, Paul McCartney. There are so many people who say that they have been inspired by listening to Fela’s music. In the Nigerian music scene, there is no hip-hop singer that doesn’t say that they listened to Fela. Felabration is getting bigger. That does not even arise at all. There are people who say Fela was a prophet.

    Some people believe that marijuana should be legalized. What is your take on that?

    Let me put it this way; there are more dangerous things that should be banned, ahead of marijuana, for instance, alcohol. It is worse than Marijuana. If America, and many countries that were against marijuana, are now legalising it, as Africans, shouldn’t we be rethinking it as well? The colonialists, from whom we got the ten year jail sentence, by their law; are now legalising it.

    My father used to say that when you ban something, you make the demand more, and the price goes up in the market. When you legalise it, people will quickly realise whether or not it is good for them, and the price will come down in the market. Another instance is, at a certain time my father said that people were taking a certain drug called Gbana, and they were dying.

    But it was because it was hidden, my father said that if it were out/ exposed, everybody would know its effects, and shy away from it. When you ban it, you make it very attractive, and young people will go there. It is like saying that people should not watch porn, but when you understand what goes on in them, you will realise that it’s really not a sexual trip at all.

    Have you ever used marijuana?

    I have used Marijuana. I won’t say I really liked it, but probably because everyone around me was doing it. As I grew older, I didn’t like it, so when I developed the will power to stop, I quit. I didn’t need it to perform. I thought it was even more of a downer for me. I prefer to perform when I’m totally attentive in my mind. With marijuana, sometimes you are paranoid, worried about what the audience is thinking. You really cannot control your thoughts, or lose it.

    And then, different people react to it differently. I don’t think my father would agree with my sentiments, were he alive though. And when I used to smoke, I seemed very unfriendly because I was in deep thought all the time. I worry a lot and smoking made me worry ten times more. I could worry about the most inconsequential thing; Marijuana had that kind of negative effect on me. I am not saying it has the same effect on other people. Other people take it, and they are happy, and cool with it. So I don’t see the sense in jailing someone for ten years for taking marijuana. I mean, you should jail people for committing a crime. For instance, alcohol is worse; when you are under the influence, you can beat up your wife, and say stupid things.

    Is it true that you no longer believe in marriage?

    I never believed in it.

    But you were married.

    I loved my wife and got carried away. I am happy with the experience. However, we got married for so many reasons at the time. Now, we are great friends,

    Does that preclude marriage, meaning you will never get married again?

    Yes, again, these are my personal views. I would never influence any of my children not to get married. My eldest son, for instance believes in marriage, and in one man one wife. I would never say good, or bad, or use my life to influence him in any way. I would even support him, if that is what he wants.

    Don’t you think that what you grew up seeing are things that you have to do?

    Yes, I grew up watching films and all that, but then I grew up with my mother. I was very into love, marriage; but then I moved to Kalakuta, and saw a different side of life with my father. And I weighed my father’s side, and the other side, and I felt that my father had majority of the vote in my mind; even if not a hundred percent. Because I saw many married couple who broke up, and many of the actors, and actresses I was watching could not keep their marriages. But they were acting films in which they tried to influence the world that you had to be married as that was what society expected of you, and all that. Yet the people who were urging me to get married, or even swear me into it were never married themselves; those who are not even allowed to be married because they have made vows, or claim to have given their lives to Christ.

    So many things are wrong with the institution, and I’m wondering that the person saying “I pronounce you man and wife” has never been married. So how can a person who never experienced it talk about it, quoting a book well over two thousand years old to me? The film, actors, and everything around me was a failure. Even amongst my friends, their fathers were cheating on their wives, and pretending about it. Even the wives were cheating on their husbands. Everything just seemed upside down. So why would I want to get involved in it? And I asked myself, “Do I like women? Yes. Will I ever be faithful to one woman? No. So why get married? ” So, even before I got married to my wife, she knew I would not be faithful.

    If fame hadn’t happened, do you think the marriage would have continued?

    I don’t know. The fame got completely beyond me. I had wanted to be famous, and all that, but the album was so huge. Using my father’s life as an example, at the time my father hit stardom, Nigeria could not handle it; having never seen such a phenomenon prior to that. He also could not handle it; he had to grow into it. In America, stardom is an institution, such that they are ready for when the star fails, and when they get back on their feet. If the star gets addicted to drugs, they are ready with rehabs for them. They understand what stardom does to you.

    During Fela’s time, Fela was huge; Nigeria was not ready for it, there was no way Nigeria was ready for that kind of stardom. If Fela’s car passed along the street, (he might not even be in it), it would be like the president was passing, and they would be shouting his name. Fela could not just show up on the street, the only peace he ever had in his life was when he was in his room. There were hundreds of people waiting to see him, and the minute he just opened that door, Fela, Fela, Fela, and would only end when he got back into the room. The pressure for a human being was probably too much.

    What was it like, living with such a person?

    As children, we just acclimatized. It seemed like fun. I am sure that my children don’t understand my stress. It seems like a big party to them, they can’t wait to visit the Shrine. For kids, it is very different, but for mine, they are lucky that they have a father that will be grooming them for it; telling them the truth along the way. I did not have that kind of father. I had to learn along the way, by just watching and listening. But because of my experience, being his son, I can now let my children be. This is why I will not be judgmental with my kids, or say things like “Don’t get married! It’s wrong.” If however, they choose to get married, I will support them, and give them advice on how it can work. As to their careers, if one of my kids wants to be a musician, I would say, you need to practice six hours every day. But I would not be judgmental with respect to their personal lives, and of whom they choose to marry.

    Benson Kuti, is he your brother?

    No.

    How is he related to you?

    I don’t know him.

    There is another Fela son, by a white woman. Have you met him?

    Fela told us he had a child by an Australian in 1964. I met him, and it’s very likely he is Fela’s son because he looks very much like Fela. He is very friendly, and has a dimple like Fela and a black spot Fela had on his face. Funny enough, he doesn’t even want to be known; he only reached out to us because his child wanted to know who his father was. His mother had put him into a foster home, so he had to find out who his mother was, and later on his father. The young man googled who Fela Ransome Kuti was, and on discovering told his father the status of his natural father. That was how they looked for us on Facebook, and got in touch with my sister. When I went to Australia, I paid them a visit, and we have been friends ever since.

    Growing up, what kind of relationship did you and your siblings have?

    From my mother, we are very close. My brother, Kunle and I got very close after our father’s death. As to the others, Seun and others, we did not start out very close, but now we are. When Seun was younger, he was manipulated, but we are now very close. You could say the family is quite close, but you can’t compare the closeness with one’s mother’s kids to those from one’s father.  My elder sister and I are very close, she is only thirteen months older than I am, and we grew up together through thick and thin. I am twelve years older than Kunle, and I am well over twenty years older than Seun. I am old enough to be his father. But the respect and relationship I share with my sister is different. My sister has always been someone I share everything I do with, doing nothing without telling her first. She has Fela’s mentality; I don’t. I look more like Fela, but she has his mind, and has a way of taking global perspective, and give you good advice based on it. She is street smart.

    I know that your mum was a black Briton, could that be why you are not a chauvinist?

    My mother is black American, Red Indian and English.

    Any chances of a reunion with your ex wife?

    Not at all, we are friends; that is all. And I have a partner, we stay together, and she understands the fact that it will be very hard for me to be faithful. That does not mean that I am promiscuous, but she understands that my profession does not permit me to do certain things.

    For instance, can you imagine a man married to Madonna not wanting men to throw themselves at her? There would be a problem, because they will. First, accept the fact that she is a superstar and men will throw themselves at her, whether you like it or not. So if you want to be jealous, you would probably die of it.

    Look at Jay Z married to Beyonce, showing off her sexy body, and think that men will not drool. So the partner will have to find a way to work his/her mind to accommodate being with a much desired partner. The same way she has to understand that fine girls will like me, and they are the ones that make the star tick.

    If not, my career would be over. Even the Americans are yet to perfect a means to manage the expression of freedom of the star persona, because the star needs that freedom to express his/her art. This is why they break down. The star needs the freedom to express his/her art, even though they are not drawing, but drawing a bigger picture in the world.

     

     

  • Managing inter-professional relationships in health sector

    The past few years have seen a gradual widening of the gap between professional and operational staff within the health sector. There has been a clamour by the allied-health professionals challenging the existing roles of the medical practitioners in the sector and an increased agitation for a greater degree of participation in the decision-making process.

    Indeed serious conflict which have often degenerated into violent physical combat have occurred between practitioners who share the same physical operational space and several groups of allied-health professionals who have requested for greater degrees of autonomy in the discharge of their duties as against the dictates of the existing chain of command which places them under the supervision of the physicians. This has particularly been a nagging problem in the Laboratories and Medical Imaging Departments.

    Thus, the current state of inter-professional relationship in the Health sector is characterized by mutual suspicion, undue competition and rivalry, violation of intra- and inter-professional chains of command, sabotage of efforts of competing practitioners and at times outright hatred of other professionals.

    The PATIENT, who is the reason for the establishment of the sector, is the first casualty in this crisis.

    Several factors are responsible for the present state of things. One of which is the increasing demand for greater roles and greater authority in the management of patients by the different healthcare professionals in the hospital setting.

    The health sector, like other multi-professional systems like the aviation industry, the university system and even the manufacturing industry relies on each of the different groups of professionals contributing in different ways to the overall management of the patient. The reasons for this demand for greater roles may be too numerous to mention, but prominent among them is the desire by allied health professionals to achieve greater recognition as professionals within the hospital system and in the administrative reckoning of the civil service bureaucracy as well as in the eyes of the public. It could also be the desire by allied-health professionals for equal financial reward and recognition with the physicians, since the success of his efforts in managing an illness now depends on contributions from other professionals.

    There has also been a persistent failure of collective bargaining with all professional groups in the health sector through the years. Since the early days of the sector, aggrieved professional groups are usually engaged by government or its organs individually whenever their individual grievances were brought to the table rather than collective engagement with all groups to ensure that granting the desire of one group does not infringe on the perceived comfort or operational zones of another.

    In today’s modern healthcare system, the consequences of strained inter-professional relationships have serious implications for healthcare delivery. Imagine a patient who is admitted in a teaching hospital ward in Nigeria who by the time he spends five days on such admission would have encountered numerous healthcare workers of different professional orientation. The number of health workers to see a patient could be as many as 50 in countries with more sophisticated healthcare systems. Another immediate consequence of strained relationships is non-existent or poor communication channels between different categories of professionals. Hence the patient is confronted with conflicting instructions, suspicious practitioners which eventually affects the patient’s psyche, erodes public confidence in the health system and overall treatment outcome. Indeed whether we acknowledge it or not, the absence of these inter-professional communication lines affects patient’s morbidity and mortality because it stalls their investigation, evaluation and eventual treatment.

    The parlous state of inter-professional relationships in the sector has also encouraged the growth of a most undesirable culture of “territorialism” which has caused the decline of true, professionalism among practitioners. Each professional group converts its professional roles and even physical operating space into a “territory” that must be “guarded jealously” against any “violation” by any perceived competitor(s).

    Sadly, this odious culture of “Territorialism” is being passed to junior/up-coming practitioners. Strained inter-professional relationships have also led to the creation of complex, unwieldy organizational structures within each profession that only serves to nourish egos and reduce productivity. It has also contributed to the poor image of the public health sector among our fellow citizens and is a festering problem that requires urgent intervention.

    It stands to reason that as in many other sectors of the economy, the health care sector is also not immune to class struggle which has pitched the doctors against other professional groups in the hospital. The struggle for class distinction and leadership tussle by doctors has created acrimony among other professional which has not augured well for the overall effective discharge of their duties.

    In finding solutions to this challenge however, may involve a multi-dimensional approach.  Government at all levels must put in place policies that recognises the different roles of health professionals but at the same time encourage inter professional working relationship.

    The World Health Organisation (WHO) in 2010 defined inter-professional collaboration as a situation where: “Multiple health workers from different professional backgrounds work together with patients, families, caregivers, and communities to deliver the highest quality of care”. This is essentially a situation where Health care professionals assume complementary roles and cooperatively working together, sharing responsibility for problem solving and making decisions to formulate and carry out plans for patient care.”

    The key word here is “together”.  This model was also suggested by the Institute of Medicine (IOM) the American health policy think-tank as a veritable tool for improving multi-disciplinary care of patients. Critical components that make up this concept must however be put in place for it to succeed. These include: Clear role definition/role clarification of professionals in the health team. There should be clear, unambiguous guidelines  stipulating the roles, responsibilities and limits of all the different professionals in the sector. This surely has always existed in some form, but the lines of responsibility have been blurred in recent agitations. The Federal Ministry of Health has a role to play in this regard.

    There is considerable evidence that inter-professional team work enhances communication, reduces errors, and improves patient outcome and satisfaction as well as staff satisfaction. These outcomes also lead to enhanced patient/client self-care, knowledge and outcomes, provider satisfaction, skills and practice behaviours. It can also lead to system enhancement such as provision of a broader range of services, better access, shorter waiting periods and more effective resource utilization.

    Building effective healthcare systems does not depend on technical factors or infrastructural adequacy alone. Human factors are extremely important. We must advocate for inter-professional collaboration amongst ourselves because collaboration “divides the task and multiplies the success”. The timeless words of Mattie J.T. Stepanek may be very useful at this juncture: “Unity is strength. When there is Team work and collaboration wonderful things can be achieved”.

     

    Prof Olatinwo is Chief Medical Director, University of Ilorin Teaching Hospital

  • How to experience a working relationship

    Every human craves a working and extraordinary relationship; a phenomenon many desire. Many may, however, question the possibilities of experiencing an extraordinary relationship in a depraved world such as ours. I beg to differ – It is possible! No matter how rotten our society is, extraordinary relationships exist.

    Good things, they say, don’t come easily. To experience extraordinary relationships that could result in a marriage require sacrifices but how many of us are ready to do what it takes to achieve the feat?

    If you desire a working relationship or marriage, there are certain habits you need to inculcate. One of such is speaking favorably of your significance to your partner, especially when they are not there. You should endeavor to desist from uttering negativism about your partner such that if they get to hear of it, it could have adverse effect in your relationship.

    Another habit that should come handy is that everyone in your personal circle should know you are in a relationship and hear more positive than negatives about your relationship, it’s very important you make people aware of your status and also.

    No other couple could say it better than Mr. and Mrs Ogundipe. The couple has been together for over 40 years. They spoke extensively on the subject matter. The under listed are their do’s and don’ts to having a successful relationship:

    1. Be patient with your partner: It’s easy to become snappish or disagreeable when we’re tired or frustrated. Remember, this is someone we love. Therefore, love should always be evident in each communication. Love intensely, passionately and frequently! If all the world needs is love, it’s absolutely the most key ingredient in our relationships. In everything we do, the plan should be to have no regrets. Can you imagine how powerful a relationship could be if we loved like there was no tomorrow?

    2.Ultimately, all we really must do is treat our partner the way we desire to be treated people are pretty much the same we all have feelings that can get hurt, dreams we want supported, and the need to experience an honest and healthy love relationship. Once we have that understanding, we are well on our way to achieving an extraordinary relationship.

    Things we must avoid in a relationship according to the Ogundipes:

    1. Channel your talking energy rightly, not to gossiping but to keeping your partner company.

    2. Do not engage in unnecessary fights and arguments because no one loves a troublesome partner but every man hates women who fight anyhow. So try to control it.

    3. Selfless men hate women who are selfish, who work but plan for their income alone. The abhor women who never share their ideas with their husbands. If you’re a married lady and you do such, soon you’ll be single again.

    4. Foreign children: This goes especially to single ladies! Control yourself before marriage there’s no single husband who will look after kids who belong to other men.

    The Ogundipes also gave the list of things that can improve a relationship:

    1 . Good communication: Always ensure that once in a day, you communicate with your partner, e.g ask how their day is? What they’re doing etc so as not to disconnect

    2. Realistic expectations: Don’t be too demanding for partner, be contented and accept him or her the way they are. A lot of people have mental blueprint of how their partner should be like and end up wreaking the relationship trying to configure your partner to your mental image

    3. Insecurity and trust: Your relationship should be based on a foundation of honesty and trust, because it is the backbone of every relationship. You should be confident of yourself and partner and trust them always even when they lie

    4. Jealousy: You should not be envious of your partner, some relationships fall apart as a result of people not being able to handle their partner’s success. You should always wish your partner better things and carry them along in whatever you do

    5. Always rebrand and improve yourself: At all times make sure that you improve yourself everyday to improve yourself worth and value to improve the quality of your relationship it can be attributed to property ,it can depreciate and appreciate just like property.

    It is my utmost belief that the rules listed above could go a long way to making our relationship work especially as they come from a couple who has been together for several decades. Let’s make our marriage and relationship a blissful one and stay positive that we all can all be EXTAORDINARY in our relationship