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If you did not read the first 3 parts of the story, you can find it here

https://jummycaxton.art.blog/2022/04/24/fools-for-love/
I think we left off our storytelling with me trapped in his house with his girlfriend standing sentinel at the entrance to his house. You have already seen how the texturized hair turned out.

I stayed inside… I stayed inside so long that we ended up weaving the hair after texturizing it. By that time sef, it was dark. I can’t remember how she left, maybe Big B or GA called her to come over for something, I don’t know. However, when it got dark, she left and I could safely come out. I went away and encouraged him to go and mend fence with her. No fracas should have me as a reason…

Sometime before then, Joseph had suffered for me…I used to work at Challenge on Mondays. He had come to check on me there. During his visit, he left his phones in the car and came to say hello to me in one of the phone shops. Before he got back to the car, his phones were gone. Seeing this, I borrowed him one of my choice phones for use with his retrieved sims. I am grateful madam didn’t ask him to give her the phone…

I stayed low key for the duration of Aunty’s stay in Ibadan. He didn’t see me every day although we spoke every day. The truth is, we have spoken every day since that first day. I guess I am attention intensive.

I had concluded that madam and I would never meet but I was invited for Worship Ways by GA on the 26th of December and I couldn’t say no. I showed up at the concert low key with my trusted companion, Miss F. At that concert, I saw a miracle!

You see, Joseph is a stammerer. As a friend, I found it tiring that he would spend a lot of time trying to get an idea out. That night, he anchored the concert and sang without repeating any syllable! I discovered that he was a wonder of the world – a stammerer who wouldn’t stammer when handed a microphone.

That night, I was in awe, until I heard someone whisper from the back of the hall, “I hear she is here. I have seen her Corolla outside. Where is she?”

Miss F and I looked at each other. It looked like that was our cue to leave the concert. We identified the speaker as a pretty dark lady with corn rows. I knew my Corolla had gotten her attention. That had to be madam. We waited for a break in the concert when many people made for the door. We joined the multitude and left immediately. She was still inside looking for me when we got into the car. Fortunately or otherwise, Joseph saw us leaving and walked us to the notorious Corolla. By the car, someone asked him for the way to Ologuneru. That was how our guy spent over five minutes trying to pronounce Eleyele. You would not believe that since he was not with the microphone, he had started stammering again. I had to zoom off when madam saw him beside the car and was heading for us.

He hadn’t finished the “Eleyele” when I ran away.

Fast forward to new year’s day, Madam was back in Lagos and Joseph came to eat chicken in my house. That was the day my elder brother gave the young man red wine and he drank it like water! Nobody could believe he hadn’t tasted it before. That was also the day he returned the phone I lent him. He had gotten a new phone for himself and felt I should have my phone back, since it was the only phone I could send MMS on.

The return of the phone led to a very important discovery…
I remember this incident clearly because the following day, I ran into a pastor friend of mine, YA, who asked after him, mentioning that he had seen us together a few times. When I said “Shey that guy that stammers?”, he responded “Oh, wow! What a description. I thought you guys were in love”.

He didn’t know I had almost been caught the day before because of the stammering. It was paining me at the time.

On the morning of the 2nd of January, 2008, I went through my phone. Apparently, Joseph remembered to clean the inbox but forgot to clean the outbox and sent items. That was how I started seeing how he begged and begged for not opening gate for madam that day. He begged so much that I started wondering; nobody should beg anyone who isn’t an enemy that much. But that wasn’t what wounded me…

When all his begging didn’t work, oga pulled out the big guns but he forgot to mention it to me. Apparently, Mr Lover Lover asked madam to marry him o! They had done proposal and they did not mention it to me!!!

That thing pained me ehn!

I immediately called him and told him to make sure we see that night. Of course, it didn’t matter that the other messages he sent to her showed me that her answer was no. I just felt I was a stakeholder who should have been informed if a proposal was going to take place.

What do you think? Shouldn’t I have been forewarned?

When he arrived, I greeted him with smiles, although my heart was racing, slamming my rib cage anyhow. I talked weather and other nonsense until I couldn’t manage it again.

I then asked calmly, like it didn’t matter, “Did you ask madam to marry you?

He looked startled at first but seeing my calm face, also responded calmly, “Yes, I did.”
Dear reader, I had no explanation for what happened next. I still don’t have an explanation for it. My calmness disappeared and I connected my teeth with his right shoulder. It bled and subsequently scarred.

As in, mo geje!
It was a bite of a lifetime; one he would never forget.

Let’s postulate theory together – why did I bite him gangan?

Anyway, I couldn’t explain to him (or to myself) why I bit him. But like all true friendships, we stayed friends after the nasty bite.

Moving forward, I started thinking deeply about my reaction to his proposal.

1. He had a babe and was thinking of marrying her. I needed a man.

2. I needed to give him some space.

That was how I made the mistake of my life o, I went to interview two of his friends about keeping my distance from him. Little did I know that the people I was talking to had received wife for him in the Spirit.

Miss G said, ‘we are not marrying that madam o, we are just looking for way out’.

Big B said, ‘he needs you in his life. Leave him to handle that side of things’

Before somebody will come and confuse my destiny, I took matters into my own hands. Let us settle this matter once and for all.

I called out my buried MFM side and started going to Awo Hall Prayer Ground in UI on Sundays. Two hours of prayers every Sunday. Guess what my prayer point was?

Father, if this boy is here to scatter my life, send him away by fire!

Not my will but yours be done!

So, due to popular demand, let us talk about February 14, 2008; one month and twelve days after the famous bite. I am sure you are all waiting for a romantic story with romantic details… I hear you.

You can’t imagine the number of people who have come to ask me if it was only hair we relaxed and wove the day we were trapped in his apartment.

People of God, I am not you all o! I am holy, just as He is holy. 

Anyway, 2006 was probably the most dramatic valentine I’d ever had.

In 2008, I wasn’t hopeful at all. I didn’t imagine that someone else’s boyfriend would come and celebrate valentine with me. In any event, Big B had a gig in Lagos and Joseph was on the back-up line up. So, we were not supposed to see at all on that day.

However, Johnny’s elder brother gave me a contract to surprise a babe with a valentine gift. The plan was to deliver a dozen budding roses to her doorstep at 6am on Valentine’s Day with some other lovey dovey stuff.

I’ve been planning romantic nonsense since tey tey. I outdid myself.

But, I was afraid of driving to Akobo that early in the day…

Since I had an accomplice for driving assignments, I quickly called Joseph to ask if he would drive me to Akobo on Valentine’s Day. He agreed to do the honours. He also accompanied me to Stella’s Flowers where I got the fresh flowers from and made sure the order was in excess of what I needed.

Miss F and I were up most of the night packaging the flowers and including the poetry from a giver that was abroad… So romantic.

So we spent our first valentine in each other’s company accomplishing a valentine surprise. We were not a couple so it didn’t matter that we didn’t share anything ourselves. We made sure the people who were expressing love to themselves had a wonderful time. We helped them create memories.

We were done before day break. He was headed to Lagos by 8am. I left the remaining roses in his car.

It was when Big B gisted me later that I realized that that January bite did not teach our guy anything o…

Would you believe that after their gig, Joseph went to see his madam with Valentine presents that included the roses we bought together??? No wonder he made sure I overbought flowers.

Women have suffered in this life o… Chai!

My “head” is strong. 

Madam rejected the valentine gifts. The gist I heard from the pro-Jumoke escorts (that I did not recruit) was that the gifts attracted the show down of the century. This guy that used to pose for me was dealt with summarily by his madam.

His offence – he didn’t present the valentine gifts till evening. That meant she wasn’t his priority. I don’t know if it was “àsodùn” but “they” said he was chased away with his bunch of roses. 

It was not a small matter o. Madam’s dad had to intervene and beg him for everything that happened subsequently. They showed Joseph pepper that day and you know male friends are not nice. They teased him about it for a very long time, even to my own hearing.

That their fight did not end o… Even though it didn’t work the last time, Joseph tried to use proposal to reconcile again. It didn’t work. Madam said she will not marry him o.

Meanwhile, one week after that Valentine’s Day was his birthday and being my normal self, I had planned for him. Of course, my plan blew him away. 

As my regular driver, I had to give him a birthday present that had a meaning. Some weeks before, he had had a bike accident with his Kawasaki Ninja. In order to avoid hitting a child crossing the road, he rode his bike into a ditch and got badly injured. Although my friend and law school roommate, Chinchin and I came to check his wounds at about 10pm that night, I knew I had to do something to make sure he didn’t hurt himself more in the future.

Back then, Joseph, who was also known as Pastor on the streets of Surulere, used to spend his birthday on the mountain, seeking the face of the Lord. Departure time to the mountain was 7am. Some minutes before 7, Miss F and I had arranged the protective gear I got for him as his birthday present into a box and placed it on the bonnet of his car. We then, like Moses’ mother, hid in the reeds nearby to watch his reaction when he would discover the gift and its contents.

Till date, that must be one of the most gratifying surprise birthday presents I have ever given. When he pulled out the crash helmet, he looked around for whoever dropped the gift on his car bonnet and somehow, he concluded that it must be me and called out to me.

It played like one of those horrible scenes from an Indian film, slow motion hug and all, when Miss F and I were discovered where we were hiding.

I can never forget his analysis of that gift. It didn’t even make sense to me at the time but I guess I understand it better now. According to him, everyone who cared about him tried to stop him from biking. I was the only one who cared enough to help him bike safely since biking would make him happy. Be happy but while being happy, don’t make us sad.

I guess that gift was a turning point for him, or what do you think?

The gift had a side effect I didn’t expect though. It made him decide to go back to look for his madam and reconcile their differences, which he actually didn’t know or understand. Madam was angry with him and he didn’t know why. He needed to get her to be happy with him.

Instead of going to the mountain, he went to his madam.

What happened next? We will continue the story this Friday.

Holla!

It is Friday night!

Are we ready for a Friday Night Rendezvous?

The first fictitious short romance story I ever wrote had that title. If you have not read it, you can find it here…

So, since we stopped our story last week titled “Where do Broken Hearts Go?” in 2006, let’s skip the story titled “Sugar, Sugar” whose main character has bribed me to delay the telling of his own story, and skip to 2007, where we will be sharing a story I have chosen to title “Fools for Love”.

Wondering at the title? Well, in one of the responses I got to last week’s story, someone said many of us are fools for love. Wouldn’t you have thought that with that very nasty heartbreak, I would never fall in love again? I thought so o… I even joined the men-are-scum-league. But alas, 14years after and 3 babies down, I am just going to advise you to keep living and keep loving.

In 2007, I got a job with Nokia as a member of their field force. I was a retail consultant. I was a big deal. I was well paid. I drove a brand new Toyota Corolla, 2007 model. I got new phones regularly. I used an E61i for work, it was as good as a palm top computer. I belonged to the South West Team, where we had 5 guys and only 2 girls. we had a very vibrant social life.

Nokia trained us weekly so I saw Sugar Sugar very often. You will have to wait till I tell that story. Miss Chi was the only other female in my team and we were both in Ibadan. If your party mattered and we did not attend, your party didn’t matter. I mean parties for under thirties o… We also used to go to nightclubs after trainings on Fridays with the boys who would come in from Asaba and Benin.

Our team lead came to Ibadan weekly. I introduced him to my parents. My dad discovered that he was the son of a long lost friend, who was late. So, Daddy insisted that he should stay in our BQ anytime he was in town for trainings. It was this team lead who introduced me to Living Spring Concert in OAU. That was where I saw Joseph for the very first time.

I remember looking down at the stage (where great music was coming from) and seeing a young man with a humungous afro holding the mic. His shoes were the type that had pointed tips that loved looking up. He was wearing Ankara and he was very funny. He introduced himself as “Joseph Olatunde Caxton-Martins”. Someone mentioned that he lived in Ibadan, but, what is my own? If he lived in Ibadan, I would definitely see him around.

My oldest friend, Miss I, decided to get married in August 2007. Ife and I have been friends since KG2. She lived and worked in Lagos but her family house was in Ibadan. As chief bridesmaid, I got into work mode and started planning. I was in charge of all the bridesmaids’ dresses for the wedding, which took place in Iyin-Ekiti.

Miss I enjoyed the dedication with which I attacked the planning of her wedding. So, she decided that I would not leave her wedding single. She was happy that I broke up with Pastor Doctor (she had never liked him). She and her fiancé, T, set out to match make me with some guys from his office, who would be at the wedding. The first thing Miss I did was advise T on the choice of best man as one who would fit my specs. They decided on TO, a tall, slim, fair and handsome banker with prospects. I am sure Miss I started dreaming of how we would live in adjoining duplexes.

The girl is a devoted somebody o… Just in case that one would not work out, she had a backup plan. They invited an average height, dark, chubby and okay-looking colleague called Ben to the wedding too, just in case I was tired of show piece type guys who tend to break peoples’ hearts, Arnold from ‘My Little Black Dress’ being her reference point. They had given him my number and he had been chatting me in advance of the event. TO and I knew ourselves from primary school and so we had been talking too.

On the day of the wedding, we got a third contender for my attention that nobody had bargained for. You see, the MC from the Livingspring Concert in OAU was her wedding MC. Apparently, he lived in Miss I’s elder brother’s BQ. I had never seen him before even though I frequently visited her siblings’ houses. As soon as the MC saw the pleasure with which the best man was looking at me, he forgot about the wedding and decided to spend the whole afternoon yabbing the best man into the microphone.

“Please we asked the couple to dance and not the assistant couple. Best man, leave that fine girl alone.”

“Please o, somebody should help me move the best man’s seat away from the front. He is moving too close to the chief bridesmaid. You people are not the ones getting married.”

“Best man, oya go and stand at the entrance to collect gifts. I don’t know why you will not leave this girl for me.”

That was sha how I entered once change with the wedding MC. If I walked past, he commented. If any man greeted me, wahala. If any man brought me food or water, he wanted to deliver it himself. When the best man and I were dancing with the couple, he sent him away to dance with me instead. To spoil the matter, he was dark, short (according to my standards), had a pot belly and wore a black jacket that had red zips all over it. My people, the young man did not let all my suitors see road o! I definitely came back to Ibadan single. Ko funny rara.

I think this is a convenient place to stop tonight. Let us continue this story tomorrow night… Odaaro o… Beware of troublesome MCs.

---

So, where were we on our tale for this weekend – Fools for Love? I went to Iyin Ekiti and came back empty handed although two candidates were presented for inspection. Wedding MC did not allow us inspect. Na wah. That was in August. I continued my Nokia social life routine without running into that man again until Miss G’s birthday in September.

In 2007, Miss G celebrated her birthday with an all-white party. Miss Chi and I baffed up to the teeth with matching outfits only to enter the event center and find out that it was a candle-lit dinner. Lorokan, nobody could see our clothes and make up. We had to settle for eating well in silence.

As soon as the program of events started, we discovered that someone was determined to make rice come out of our noses. For everything that was said, he had a funny side comment. For every prayer, his amen was funny. Even when the speeches were serious, he would just find a way to upturn the thing. We were glad when the event finished because that man just kept redirecting all ears to his voice throughout.

When we finished, someone switched on the lights. The first person I looked for was the person that had been talking non-stop for the past 3 hours. When I saw him, the first sentence that came out of my mouth was – I should have known. It was the MC from Miss I’s Wedding. As soon as I remembered my ordeal in Iyin-Ekiti, I fled for the door. He tried to catch me but God rescued me that night. No need to talk to him o. The man wouldn’t let all the fine boys in the room get my number. There was no point.

I celebrated my escape and thought I was free indeed but within a few days, the he was back on the radar. I tire for the matter. I had a habit of taking a prayer stroll every morning. Although I was as skinny as a rake, I would walk daily from 6am to 7am speaking in tongues in Bodija. The young man would not let me enjoy my solitary stroll. Can someone help me ask him what he was looking for at that time of the day?

During my morning walk, I started noticing a wine BMW slowing down to follow me. If you knew that BMW, you would know that if it mistakenly gets on the same street you are on, the rumble of its engine would put you on red alert. That rumble started becoming my prayer stroll soundtrack. The man driving the BMW drive to my side and offer me a ride to wherever I am going. At 6am. In exercise wear. Speaking in tongues. Did I look like I needed a lift??? E gba mi o.

From rude telling off, it started changing to simple “Thanks, but no thanks.” Oga was not deterred. If I mistakenly walked on the streets of Bodija, the man would suddenly show up to offer me a ride. I had a car of my own and I had two of my dad’s cars at my disposal, if I needed to go anywhere. I thought that since he knew my car situation, he would know that if I was walking, I was walking by choice. Anyway, that was sha how I acquired a stalker.

On October 31, 2007, Eyitee was 10. His 10th birthday celebration was at their house and I volunteered to do decorations. To work fast, I took a friend along – Fubuwi. As we were rounding up, her phone rang and the person her caller was pestering her for the fun of it. When she got frustrated, she just shouted “Wo, Caxto, fimile.” I wasn’t really interested in her conversation until I heard that name.

“Who were you talking to?”

“One Caxto boy like that. Wahala e ti poju!”

“Is he an MC?”

“Yes, he is the one. You know him?”

“I have met him a few times. Is he your friend?”

“Yes, he is my friend but he is too troublesome.”

Then I said, in Yoruba “Gbe ore e wa, ka ba e fe.”

“Are you serious?”

“Have I joked with this kind of thing with you before ni?”

“Okay. Should I give you his number?”

“Rara o. A babe must always be a babe. Give him my number and ask him to call me.”

“Okay. I will do that.”

“Thanks dear.”

Two days later, which was the next time I saw Fubuwi, I followed up on my request.

“Your friend has not called me o.”

“That is because I did not give him your number. I thought you were joking.”

“Joking bawo? Have I ever joked this kind of joke with you before? Oya, bring out your phone and send him my number.”

“I don’t have credit.”

“How much credit do you want?”

“Jumoke, o ma serious ke.”

“That seems to be the only way to make you realize that I am not joking.”

“Okay. N500.”

“Let’s go and buy it.”

I bought her credit. She called him and told him she had a friend that wanted to meet him but that he should be the one to call her. He asked her if he knew me and she told him that he did and he had been trying to get my number for a while, according to me. Then she sent him my number via text message. Would you believe that the guy still didn’t call me until the following week???

Joseph got my number and refused to call o… For a woman who unusually, was being the aggressor, it didn’t make sense. Within a few hours, I decided to just forget about the whole matter. Abi, what is it gangan? However, the day I gave up was the day my phone rang.

 “Hello.”

 “Hello. Good evening.”

 “Good evening. This is Caxton. I got your number from a friend. She seems to think I know you.”

 “Hi Caxton. You know me. I am Jumoke – Miss I’s chief bridesmaid and Miss G’s friend. I work with Nokia.”

 That was how the young man tired to deafen me o… he started laughing like a hyena. After the first two minutes, the laughter changed to that off a jackal. After another two minutes, he asked me to excuse him between breaths.

 “Please, think I will have to end this call and finish laughing before I call back.”

 “That’s okay. As long as you call back.”

He actually ended the call. I could still hear him laughing. It took him all of ten minutes to call back.

“Hello Jumoke.”

“Hi Caxton.”

“Finally. How are you today?”

“I am good. You?”

“I am great. So, you finally got round to letting me call you.”

“Yes. Do you mind?”

“Not at all”

“So, where are you?”

“At home.”

“Okay. Do you have any plans for the evening?”

“Yes. I am supposed to take food to my uncle in UCH.”

“Would you mind some company?”

“No at all. I should go to UCH at 5pm.”

“I will be there some minutes before then.”

“Where? You haven’t asked…”

“Don’t you stay on the sloppy street? I have seen you at the junction a number of times.”

“Hmmm… So I don’t have to give an address or describe my place?”

“Please describe. I might need the additional information”

That was when I confirmed that he had truly been stalking me. God dey.

 Within a few hours, the street knew someone had come with in royal rumble style. I have mentioned that his car was notorious for its noise. I wanted to take my car but since it was a first outing of sorts, I decided to go in his car.

 My uncle had just had eye surgery and I was to take him dinner on the third floor of the University College Hospital. He not only followed me there, he came up with me to greet my uncle and he waited outside on the corridors. I am sure if he checks, he would still have the pictures he took on that day in his short-sleeved lilac shirt and dark frames. He was all smiles that day.

As a matter of fact, his smiles were worrisome. Ear to ear. I started worrying if he was always like that. Quite unusually, he didn’t speak any mean jokes about me or yab me as was his custom at the parties. All he did was smile and be nice. Anyway, that was in November 2007. That first phone call was the first in a series. We spoke everyday after that. Actually we have spoken every since that day till now. Amazing, isn’t it?

We spoke about anything and everything. Of course, the preliminaries came first – actual names, origin, family location, hangout preferences etc. Then we graduated to activities and plans and started leaving room for our daily conversations and hangouts. As a Nokia socialite, I ate out very often. It soon became commonplace for me to ask him to meet me up at one of the joints and have lunch with me. Nothing special, nothing unusal. He just became a trusty companion.

 Sometime around that time, Nokia changed my work schedule to include relationship management with phone stores in Abeokuta. Although I had a cab driver on standby, he wasn’t on my pay roll. My work schedule required me to be in Abeokuta on Wednesdays and suddenly, I needed a weekly driver for those trips. As our beloved Joseph was an event person who was never busy during the week, he volunteered to start driving me to Abeokuta on Wednesdays and thus, we started spending more and more days together.

I started catching feelings o, I cannot lie. But I can explain the feelings I caught. He was a nice person. Every time he visited, he almost seemed to get along more with Miss F than with myself. He was just such a friendly and jovial person. Miss F was also amazing. I made us eat out, she always made him food. You see, I was bent on making sure I was never perceived as wife material. So, I went out of my way not to do wifely things like offer food or drinks when he visits or be over nice. I cannot come and go and kee maisef.

 

Feelings “came down” more because of our Abeokuta trips. You see, Johnny’s family lived in Abeokuta and I considered it important to stop by at their house to say hello every Wednesday. He took those trips very personal. It didn’t make sense to me. On Tuesday, he would ask me if I had gotten something to give to Busola and Oluyemi. He knew I always took something for them. He would even ask if I planned to take something for their mum. Sometimes, he would get something for them himself. Always, he would hug them and gist with them like they were his own siblings.

Watching him treat the people I considered special as special had me sold.  He always went the extra mile for my friends and their families. He started looking like husband material. However, by the time I started meeting his friends, who were almost celebrities and way older than him, I came across a very vital information that militated against my feelings. You see, Mr. Joseph had a girlfriend o! Not only did he have a girlfriend, he had been dating a certain her since the year 2000. Just in case you did not understand the implication of that, it meant that their relationship was 7years old when we met.

 Are you shouting the way I shouted when I heard? Me that in my life, I had never had a boyfriend for a full year, I was now rolling with Mr Commitment himself. O ga ju. Immediately, my caution button was flagged o. A guy who could not make up his mind about which woman to date was one thing. However, a man who was committed and had been committed for 7years is another matter. He had met her family. She had met his. The families had been reaching out to the prospective son/daughter. I was just a friendly intruder. I had to pull my brakes o… I cannot come and go and die of pepper water. 

In December 2007, Joseph decided that he wanted to try out weaving his hair. He bought sporting waves texturizer and asked me to help him relax his hair. That fateful afternoon, after work, I went to his place and started testing my hairdressing skills. I didn’t know what would interrupt us until it did. There was some furious banging on his gate. There was no one in the main house. Joseph was quick to answer that since there was no one around, the person would soon leave. Well, the person didn’t leave and his phone started ringing. It was his madam.

 “Oh shit. She must be the one at the gate.”

 “I don’t understand.”

 “She must have planned to surprise me.”

 “Yay! Happy surprise. So, are you going to let her in?”

 “Let her in???! I wouldn’t dare.”

 “How do you mean?”

 “I have relaxer in my hair. She will conclude that I have backslid. Also, there’s the bit about you. How do I explain just the two of us in the compound?”

 “I came to make your hair.”

 “I don’t even want to have that conversation with her at all. There’s no escaping it unscathed.”

 “What are you now going to do?”

 “Watch the phone ring.”

 A text came in “I know you are in there and I can see the Corolla people say you started driving recently out here. Come and open the gate”.

 “Oopsie. So will you go and open the gate?”

 “Nope.”

 “What will now happen?”

 “Nothing.”

 Another text – “I hope you know I am not going anywhere. I will wait here until you come out.”

 “Am I trapped in your house forever?”

 “Let us wash the relaxer out so you can weave it.”

 “Seriously?”

 “If we are stuck here for a while, we might as well make good use of the time.”

 You want to know how I left his house that day? You would have to make it a date on Friday then.

 I sha know you can’t come and beat me.

 It was great and restful weekend for me. I hope it was for you too.

 Cheers to a wonderful working week starting tomorrow!

Pastor Doctor was good to me… But he was the first son, a child of promise; his mum’s little boyfriend.

She had an idea of the direction she wanted his life to follow and apparently, I didn’t look like the right accessory for the future she wanted for him.

His mum was skeptical before we met. I didn’t blame her. My parents also didn’t like him so much. To them, he was Ibo. To me, he was my Ikwerre prince. To everyone else looking in, he was a fabulous multi-sided person and an Arsenal fan extraordinaire… One of these days, I should ask him “Oga, how market?”

I had been living the first lady life for a while… Planning and organising. I’d been involved in the food ordering and drinks coordination for the induction. His folks came in the day before and I must confess that I have never been that nervous about meeting people before. I knew what his relationship with his mum was like so I knew it was a big deal for him – her liking me.

I didn’t get to pick them up. I sent a driver I was working with at the time to do that. I freshened up after work and went to greet them where they were lodged at Rofel Hotel on Aare.

Of course, as a well brought up Yoruba girl, I went bearing gifts. That didn’t help my nervousness though. He brought me into their suite and introduced the almost queen to the royal family.

I thought the welcome was okay. I had gone down on my knees forgetting that that was meaningless to them. It got me a pull-up hug though (which would have meant I was accepted if they were Yoruba).

His dad thought I was beautiful and said so. His mum was all smiles. I was sure I was passable, even if I was not a hit. It was the next day, at the event, that I started locating myself.

My first locator was when as “official girlfriend” I didn’t get an invite into the College Auditorium to applaud him as he received his prizes… I was devastated. We worked for those prizes together. Instead, I was relegated to checking on the caterer
and arranging the “hall” we would use for the
reception in ABH. I’d only ever been in seats
of honour before. It was very strange for me.

When they eventually finished and came to the hall
that I had arranged about 30 times because I didn’t like the wait, the Mama who was all smiles didn’t give me more than a nod and wasn’t willing to introduce me to anyone! Pastor Doctor was also too busy basking in the adulation of the crowd that
he didn’t remember that I was far in the shadow of the spotlight. I was confused. Even Fela met me when we were not dating. All of a sudden, I was wall paper!

For sure, Mama had said something to his son to cause the chills I was suddenly feeling. In a strange moment, everything suddenly made sense.

His friends knew me and were giving me first lady treatment. While chatting with one, I just got the urge to look back at where Mama was standing and I withered when I saw the disdain with which she was staring me into oblivion, even though I hadn’t been looking at her.

My heart shattered into a thousand fragments!

Apparently, it wasn’t indifference. It was disdain, bordering on disgust. In my mind, I concluded the relationship was over. I quietly carried on my hostess duties and pointedly ensured there were no attempts at introductions. I also stayed back to clean up and just generally make myself useful. I could read the handwriting in Mama’s eyes. My days were numbered.

Of course, after the pain came unbelief, after the unbelief came the love, I couldn’t believe one person’s opinion could change how we felt about each other. Of course, right on the tail of love came the fighter’s spirit. I started feeling like Juliet – I wanted to fight for our love. Too many romance novels and fairy tales took their toll. I decided to discuss the problem with him. Abi, what else was I supposed to do?

Pastor Doctor denied that his mum did not like me o! So, he also denied the cooling of his ardour. Something I was seeing and feeling… Oga denied it patapata. I had to keep enjoying the leftover love he was then giving o…

I was sure things would go back to normal since my financial care did not suffer any damage.
He had systems for caring for me. He maintained them automatically. There was hope since the acts of the relationship didn’t change even though the feelings had.

Pastor Doctor had started attending my church. They had given him the microphone a few times and trust me, there’s nothing as attractive as a man who preaches the word. He had also joined the drama team and we used to attend rehearsals together. We still went everywhere together but I just felt he had taken out emotional insurance in case of eventualities. I could just feel him withdrawing…

Then came the big blow – he got a space to undertake his housemanship in Port Harcourt. Me, I knew myself and I knew that my destiny did not support long distance relationships. I didn’t understand how doing his housemanship in PH would fit into our couple’s goals but his mum had gotten him the space and he couldn’t say no. The end had officially begun. That was how he left.

God loves me. He loved me back then too and he knew I couldn’t handle too much time apart. He made sure he arranged for Bar Conference to be in Port Harcourt in August of 2006. I went over to PH for a week.

By the way, that’s the only bar conference I ever attended from start to finish.

It was on my last day in Port Harcourt that he dropped the bombshell. He told me he didn’t think our relationship was working and that we should just put it on hold.

Dear readers, that was the point at which I disgraced all of you o! I cried and begged like my life depended on that relationship. I begged so much that he said okay, let’s try a bit more.

So, one week after my disgraceful display, I got a phone call informing me that it was officially over. The call came in sometime in the middle of the night and by 5am, I was out of the house.

I walked from Bodija to UCH, I can’t remember if I wore shoes. I do remember that I cried all through that walk. I didn’t know where I was going or what I was going there to do.

I eventually found myself knocking on the door of his best friend’s room in one of the quarters there. That one took me in and tried to reason with him on the phone. The conclusion was that his mind was made up and the relationship was over.

I stayed there crying till 4pm when I wiped my tears and just stopped crying. Mourning was over. I went back home. Since I didn’t leave home with a purse or money, I guess I walked back home too.

So, we are back to the title of this short story – where do broken hearts go?

I ask because today, I am grateful that that relationship ended the way it did. I am thankful that although it hurt at the time, I was not misled into a future of pain.

Don’t get me wrong former Pastor Doctor is a good man but today, you can only call him Doctor and not Pastor.

From my narrative, it is easy to see that I loved what he was and what he stood for a bit more than who he was.

Today, he doesn’t preach.
He doesn’t act.
He isn’t into Nigerian politics.
He isn’t building a business empire like Dangote’s yet.
He is simply focused on his medical practice.

Wasn’t I in love with an illusion?

Broken hearts get mended but the breaking becomes a part of the story.

Scars add beauty. Life has lessons.

Every great person you have met has given you a story to tell.

I pray that like me, you learnt the lessons you were meant to.

Some 20years ago, my best friend joined a certain fellowship on campus, back then in UI and I enjoyed her fellowship through her. It was a great gathering of believers.

Did you belong to a fellowship on campus? If you didn’t, how did you cope with undergraduate life?

I was heavily committed in another fellowship and I was an integral part of its administration. Thus, I could only enjoy this fellowship vicariously through her. I couldn’t change to her fellowship. That year, I wanted to change when I met her prayer partner though. I saw them together once and wondered how they ever got to pray. I knew that if I was her, with him, prayer would be the last thing on my mind.

After we met, I didn’t see him again for another 3 to 4 years. I however didn’t get the opportunity to forget him. My bestie kept talking about him and then he became a very popular person. He was always in the news; the good news. Thankfully or otherwise, he was a medical student and so we heard more about him than we saw him.

In 2002, I stopped having a fellowship. I moved out of the old one and didn’t move in to another one.

Don’t assume o! I didn’t join their fellowship because of fine boy! I have more Holy Spirit than that. 

I helped set up the follow up team of TRF (The Rock Foundation) but didn’t join that fellowship either.

I was a free moral agent.

I had a very close male friend who had been a bulwark over the years. We got close in 200 level Dentistry and he just stayed with me through thick and thin. I call him ATP. He is Pastor Akinwande Tolulope Puddicombe. He headed Stone Campus Fellowship.

I didn’t join that fellowship either.

On the 13th of January, 2004, ATP staged the largest interdenominational stage play/concert of our time in UI. 8weeks before that date he gathered the best vocalists and best actors and actresses in all the fellowships for regular rehearsals. I somehow got an invitation to that team.

PS: I was the head of the BLW Drama team from 1998 to 2001. I was qualified to be on the team, I just didn’t have a fellowship.

You really don’t see where this is going, do you?

When roles were assigned, I landed the role of a jilted girlfriend. Guess who the boyfriend who was supposed to jilt me at my birthday party was? My bestie’s prayer partner! 藍藍藍

I mean, I don’t blame those who call karma a b@£&#.

I was going to get ditched in public without ever dating the guy.

So we regularly attended rehearsals 3 times a week for 8 weeks. We were both dedicated. We didn’t get chummy but we knew each other. We could no longer even refer to each other as acquaintances with the amount of time we spent together. We said the lovey dovey stuff before the heartbreak speech and we had the heartbreak speech down pat. We were good at our art and we greatly admired each other for that.

On the day of the dress rehearsal, people had started having phones but he hadn’t gotten one and neither had I. The dress rehearsal was cancelled but we both didn’t know. We were the only participants who made it to Trenchard Hall that night at 7:30pm to rehearse.

We didn’t know the others were not coming. So, instead of “wasting time” waiting for them, we kept rehearsing our part of the drama. Practice makes perfect, they say.

At some point, while rehearsing our lines, we noticed that we had both abandoned the script and started freestyling. The implication of this was that when we got to the part where we were supposed to switch to a break up speech, we just continued uttering sweet nothings to each other. At that point, we both discovered each other as skilled lyricists.

Poetry flowed freely in the dark, carvenous middle of Trenchard Hall Stage with only the eerie glow from Mellanby Hall entrance to lighten our faces…

That day, he stopped being my bestie’s prayer partner. He became my friend. *I said friend o!*

I actually don’t believe in love at first sight (though a few times I have experienced attraction at first sight sha). We had fun that night. The performance the next day was a hit.
Johnny came to watch me. That meant the world to me. The performance however meant that the reason I had for seeing him was over.

Was that the end of our story? Definitely not!

I finished from UI some months after that. I didn’t see him again till I finished. I didn’t see him or hear from him again until I finished law school one year afterwards either.

What do you think of this love at first sight business? Share your opinion and let’s learn!

We were done rehearsing. We were just faffing around when my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I detached myself from the laughing ladies so I could hear properly.

Turns out my mystery caller was my bestie’s prayer partner. It was the first time we would talk on the phone. I don’t even know how he got my number. It was a very long call saying, well, nothing.
See finish has entered this matter o…

Can you imagine? Some people are wondering how someone who started as head of drama can end up as end of choir in another school, especially since nobody has heard me sing before…

Na you sabi…My singing is pleasing to my father in heaven. Besides, what both roles needed was my administrative skill.
So, in October that year, when we went for clearance for Call to Bar, my friends and I had to go to church for rehearsals. There was thanksgiving on the Sunday before the call to bar week and we had a special ministration. I also had a special appearance in the drama of the day (I was summoned by Uyi Umuhangwu, the head of the drama team) who had discovered I was hiding my talent.
I finished from the Nigerian Law School in the year 2005 and was called to the Nigerian Bar in November of that year. I studied in the Abuja Campus and during the course of the year, I was choir coordinator at RCCG Hall of Mercy, directly opposite the law school in Bwari.
When I got to Ibadan, I fixed an appointment to see him in school on my way from work one day.

On my way from Adamasingba to Bodija, I decided to stop by at Alexander Brown Hall in UCH.

That was the official beginning of *Operation Get Familiar*.
We spoke at length about anything and everything. We spoke a lot about him, his vision and his plans.

I don’t know if I was easy to impress but I was too impressed. He was literally larger than life when I got to know him.
That call ended with a promise – I promised to go looking for him whenever I got back to Ibadan after my call to bar.

The call must have been very ticklish, since I smiled sheepishly all night afterwards. He was an obviously younger person. He was still in medical school. I was flattered by the attention. I was also curious – why did he actually call?
By that time, he had become a full fledged tongue-talking, Bible-believing, miracle-working Campus Fellowship Head Pastor.

He was vying for the Chairmanship of ABH.

He was a youth PDP Leader in his community.

He had more than a dozen motorcycles giving him daily returns – his side business.
I don’t know what trips you but I was sold.

He made plans and followed through. He knew the Word and preached the Word. He was familiar with the Spirit and so my manifestation of gifts of the Spirit were not strange to him. He was so big himself that he could not be intimidated by my past or my future.

My dear people of God, that was how that year, your sister tumbled in love.

If it had not been for Medical students were too busy for life with their studies. This young man was too busy with life but he studied! He wasn’t flunking!! He was making money already too, his own, not his parents’!!!

What manner of man was he? I was in awe.

Then he asked me to help him with hosting Fela Durotoye who he brought to UI for a 2-day men’s conference put together by him.
On our way back, we were tired and hungry. From all that happened that day, we can safely conclude that all the occupants of the car slept. Everybody – including the driver.

I woke up being carried to the road side from the mangled car and made to sit on the scalding tarred express road. I realized that I was shouting in tongues and the first rational thought that came to my head was – _*I was thinking about a boy before the car crash and his name flashed before my eyes…*
How I discovered I had “fallen” was as hilarious as falling itself.

On the 7th of December, 2005, I was involved in a ghastly motor accident. My bestie and I went to court in Ado-Ekiti that day to show off our spanking new wigs and gowns. As the Nigerian Judicial System would have it, after making an early morning trip and getting to Ado before 9am, the court did not sit. We had to go back without achieving our aim.
It was all shades of bad. With how ghastly that accident was… I was the only one who went home that day. Although I was also injured, others had serious injuries, fractures that required surgery. And the first thing I remembered was a boy’s name.  Not even my name.

Of course, when I became conscious, I quickly reassured my dad (who was also in the car) that I was fine. All he was shouting was “Please check my daughter. Please confirm she’s fine. Please confirm her friend is safe. Jumoke!”

I had a cut on my foot that needed suturing. I asked the doctor if it could heal without sutures and he said yes. I left the hospital without stitching it. The wound on my left heel required daily dressing for the next one month. I had trauma to my legs and couldn’t walk well but the injuries of the others needed more attention.

My care and hospital trips became Pastor Doctor’s responsibility. I was dependent on him.
I can boldly say that this marked the beginning of our relationship since he never got round to asking me out and I never got round to saying yes but we (and everyone else in our lives that had eyes and could see) knew we stopped being friends and became something else during that period.

I was pampered and he recruited all his friends to support the pampering mission.

Pastor Doctor took me for wound dressing every day. He didn’t have a car but he had a friend who did. He sat with me at the back nursing my foot when his friend drove us to St. Vincent. I lived with my brother at that time till I recuperated fully.

I was pampered in that season. Friends and church members visited daily for a month bearing all sorts of gifts and treats, someone even brought _*point and kill*_ in his boot!

I was the most visited person recuperating that was never admitted that I have ever met.

Yet, nobody could outgive him. Time, attention, money, gifts. It was surreal; simply amazing.

In January 2006, he had to go for an outside posting in Abuja. I thought the loss was going to be great but it wasn’t. We spoke for hours every evening. Each time I had to go to the hospital for a dressing, his friend still came, though I started driving on the 31st of December because I had to go for my bestie’s birthday. He did everything to recreate the care even while he was away.

It was when he was in Abuja that I started getting a 3k weekly allowance. Now, you really can’t understand how awkward that was but let me explain a bit.

He was younger than myself.
I worked, he was a student.
I was living with my brother and I didn’t have to go anywhere so I shouldn’t need money.
Yet, I had a weekly allowance.

My money came in without fail. While he was in Abuja, I got to appreciate his protective type of affection.

He met someone he thought was interested in me and went to have a heart to heart conversation with that other man; to explain what I mean to him and why he doesn’t want him to encroach.

As annoying as that was, the civil manner in which he “marked his territory” was so endearing!

NYSC camp opened for me on the 14th of February, 2006. I was still walking with a limp. He was so concerned about how I would cope with life in camp with all the physical activities.

I didn’t go to camp on Valentine’s Day o! I “did” valentine with him; with a date and all the traditional gifts, before going to camp the following day. A red teddy, a perfume (Kenzo), chocolates and nice poetry.

Camp was a different kettle of fish! Being mobility challenged got me a lot of male attention and favour with physical activities but Pastor Doctor was just talented at caring. I would go mountaineering to call him in Yikpata, since we could only find network on a tree at the highest point in camp. There were a lot of doctors from UCH in my batch. Through them, he kept tabs on my health. He did the impossible in my second week in camp though.

So what happened was that I told him I was out of money and the allowee was not doing much since I ate selectively at Mami Market consistently. The second weekend I spent there, I just heard an announcement on radio that I should come.

Pastor Doctor came to spend the weekend with me in NYSC Camp and he came with plenty money to cater for additional comforts for me.

I’ve said so much about stuff he did. I was (and I still am) a very nice and giving person. I also gave at every opportunity I got but I didn’t give money. I gave spiritual support. I gave gifts. I gave time and attention. I worked with him on his plans and vision. He was a very happy boyfriend.

He wasn’t Yoruba so my parents were skeptical but he hit it off with my nephews and nieces. Eyitayo got the full arsenal kit and other paraphernalia. He made Eyitayo happiest. That was then o. The days of Thierry. Don’t crucify me. He got Eyitayo a life size poster.

I think the allowance stayed the entire duration of the relationship. I returned to Ibadan after camp and we established routines that had us seeing daily. I was introduced to his friends and he was introduced to my family and church members. We got along famously until his parents had to come to Ibadan for his induction. That was when his mum met the older Yoruba girl that was turning her first son’s head.

Was that the actual beginning of the end?
Maybe the end started earlier, when he told me he was uncomfortable with my male best friend – Johnny. However, Johnny wasn’t going anywhere. He had a seat in the grandstands of my life for life. In my mind, I had detached from him but Pastor Doctor wasn’t satisfied with the level of detachment. Although he was convinced there was nothing between us, he was not convinced that something could ever happen. I didn’t know anything I could do to persuade him

I am sorry about the abrupt suspension of the story. Let’s do Part II from Friday to Sunday.

Do have a wonderful week ahead!

Esther and I met in 200 level law.
I remember my first class with my set in that faculty. We were in a lecture room that was too small for the number of people that would attend. The lecture room would only take 100 students and we were over 250. It made a lot of sense to come early. My early coming habits saved me a lot that year.
I had just one friend in that class that I had bonded with before I joined the class – Florence. Florence was Arnold’s family friend (though I preferred to call her his cousin). My almost in-law. 🤣 We got along famously.
As luck would have it, she was close friends with Esther. That was how I inherited Florence’s friend in the faculty. I was still a bit of a loner so I only hung out with them in class.
When we got to 300 level, in my 4th year in the university, the administration of Queen Elizabeth II Hall, to which I belonged, was magnanimous enough to give me a bed space for the first time in Room E2.
I spent 6 sessions in the university and I only bed space allocated to me twice. How lucky was I?
On the day that I went to claim my space, I picked a bed at the top of the bunk because I didn’t want strangers sitting on my bed. I noticed that the bed below mine had been claimed by someone from my class – Esther. We were thrown together by nature and that was how the tight friendship began. She actually overtook Florence at some point. At other times, we just rotated the importance of our relationships for fairness. Lol.
As God would have it, the next time I got a bed space in Queen’s Hall, in my final year, she was my next door neighbour. By that time though, we had both elevated each other to best friend status. Although, many times, I suspected that she had friends she loved more than me. However, that story is for another day.
So, which story is for today?
Florence’s parents and Esther’s lived together in the north.
The friend who “squatted” with me in E2 had brothers who were both interested in me at some point in their lives. (Another story for another day). The more interested of her brothers and Esther’s brother were both in an Acapella group. Come to think of it Esther’s brother also has a story but today is not for romance. Kindly remind me if I digress again.
Did I mention that my worst heartbreak ever was from a guy I met through her? This girl has occasioned severe damage to my heart. She should pay me a monthly stipend for the rest of my life, really.
Let me tell the story of a guy who was interested in her when we got into law school. That was a real threat to our friendship. I thank God for the test of time.

Esther and I have so many stories that it is hard for me to pick one to tell…

One of my immediate elder brother’s best friends toasted her seriously for a while and I was the point girl.

She was Onimsi’s greatest fan too – an almost romance story that I should tell soon too. As a matter of fact, although it annoys her when I say it, I believe that I only dated Onimsi because of her. You need to hear that story soon. Remind me next week.
Sorry for the break in transmission. I got a guest and the object of tonight’s discussion grabbed popcorn to read my status. I had to wait for her to sleep…
So, that year, she did her chambers attachment in Lagos. Lawyers/law students can relate with this. I did mine in Ibadan. During that period, I was dating Onimsi. She was looking for a Fowler or a Carew to date because she wanted a fancy surname.

Needless to say that the bobo she landed at the time shared a surname with a market in Ibadan.
Aleshinloye
That has always been a joke-worthy twist of fate. 🤣
They never dated anyway.

In case you are wondering why I called Esther the voice of my conscience, she was the one who informed me whenever other girls’ boyfriends start getting attached to me. This happened extremely often.

Imagine your best friend being convinced of your culpability, even though she knew that the progression was standard whether the male in question had a partner or not.

She always knew when the guys were falling and she was quick to warn me to avoid them before getting sprayed pepper water.
Consequent to her role in my life as Jiminy Cricket, guess what happened when she started getting serious with Mr. Aleshinloye? She started hiding and hoarding him! It took me a while to catch on but when I did, I sure was hurt.

My best friend had labelled me husband snatcher.
You know wetin dey pain me?
She will soon wake up and come and say res ipsa loquitor; that she didn’t label me; that the facts spoke for themselves.
I tire for the girl but I love her so much. Sigh.
Anyway, when we resumed law school in the last semester, I eventually met him the only time he visited. However, one day, what she feared the most happened, he called her in class and all our friends were passing the phone to each other to speak. That’s how Longy mistakenly passed me the phone and the guy, who had been wondering why he had never spoken to me before, got friendly.
I wish that was how the story ended o… A few hours later, I was in my room when my T191 rang. Esther was in my room too. As soon as I realized that it was him calling, I made for the stairs. Esther must never know that he had somehow gotten my number. As luck would have it, it was Longy that gave him my number. Apparently she was unaware of the hide and seek game that had been going on.
Esther didn’t trust me with the guy. The man, who knew she didn’t want him to talk to me reached out.

I hid the fact he reached out from her.

Abeg, who offend who now o???
That was how the silent war began… Esther wanted to hold out to see how long I would hide the information from her. But please, tell me, how do I tell someone who didn’t trust me that the man was unworthy of her trust and not me? Consequently, I never said anything o…

She then stopped keeping me seats in class. She also stopped saving me spaces on queues. She even used my soap to wash her hair after loosening it even though she knew I was allergic to other people using my soap o! See life.
Back then, I used to go to Abuja town a lot. My dad had government cases in Abuja every other week. My sister-in-law also used to work in Abuja 2-3 days a week. I had family in town and went at every instance.

Mr Aleshinloye had heard I was coming to town without his babe and wanted to hook up. I parried him and promised to call him whenever I got to town. Of course, I never did. That was what the one phone call was about. I didn’t tell Esther about it but I told my roommate and somehow Esther heard that I had been propositioned. Immediately, she cut the guy off.
Matters came to a head when I reacted to her using my soap. My face burst out in pus filled blisters and I could not go to class. I was placed on medication and asked to rest.

On the first day of my “bed rest”, someone gave me a novel to read. Esther came to wear her shoes in my room and the novel (that I was to read all day) went missing. We searched and searched and couldn’t find it.

My room mate saw Esther reading it in class later that day. The things I suffered for hiding information!
At that point, I knew that before my student file was reported missing from Admin, Esther and I had to talk. So, the weekend that Onimsi came over to spend some time with me (a surprise visit planned by him with Esther), when he left and we were doing post-mortem of the visit, I brought the issue that was straining our relationship – Mr Aleshinloye and I.

We identified the enemy and crucified him. Thereafter, we kissed and made up. Okay, so maybe we didn’t kiss but Esther is still the voice of my conscience till date. 😂
So, gather round for the moral of the story…

Who was betrayed?

Me – that she didn’t trust

Or

Her – that I hid information from?
All of you who think boys make better friends than girls, this is your thread…

Well done o! Be asking the goat to take care of the yam, without knowing that you are being groomed for the eating. 🤣

On a more serious note, the boys who warn sternly are romantically interested in you. The ones who don’t, will say sorry when you fall and that’s all. Your girlfriends won’t let you fall. If they will, get a new set.
Those of you who bad-mouth your female friends, this is your thread…

Are you aware that it is all a matter of perspective? How she sees it is not how you see it. Have you ever tried to put yourself in her shoes? Have you ever tried to understand her perspective?

Nothing is ever the way it seems. Check again. Give your girlfriend the benefit of doubt. She just might be protecting you or herself…
If you don’t take anything away from this story, take this-

You need to find your tribe; your own friend who would stick closer than a brother; who won’t sell you out.

Pick your friends carefully like beans so you will not “chop stone”.

I hope this was an interesting read for you.

See you next week

When asked who my first ever boyfriend was, I wouldn’t need to think to mention his name. Some years after we had gone our separate ways, after being with a number of other young girls, he arrived at the same conclusion about the relationship. We were however agreed on one thing – it was too intense for our ages and stages in life.

The conversation about how we could not continue to live like that was actually the end of the relationship. That conversation was brought on by a pregnancy scare. You want to be asking me how that happened? You are on your own. The conversation held between Christmas and New Year in 1998. I had stopped going to class since I had been assured of my change of course. He went home not knowing if I was pregnant or not. I went to see him at embryology practicals when he got back to reassure him that I was not. We practically ran joint accounts since we both held our money in trust for each other. I did grocery and toiletry shopping. He did the cooking mostly. We were stuck to each other like white on rice. At 18 and 19, how long could we keep that up? We were actually shutting out each other’s options, without ever discovering them. The conversation made too much sense.

I was on my way across the university compound and I also knew that several people were waiting to move into my shoes as soon as I moved. Anyway, I carried my shoes with me when I was leaving. No one can fill my shoes. Tufiakwa!

Weaning each other off each other took months, maybe years. Friendship is difficult to corrode while romance can be turned off more easily. Comparison was a blight that killed many relationships before they took flight. He had one small girl who never lived up to my image that was larger than life. The day she met me, she understood how she couldn’t fill my shoes. He had given me the comb for his hair before he remembered we were no longer together. Watching the unspoken chemistry hurt her so much he had to let her go. He didn’t like my relationship with Gabby (not real name) much either, my own little boy. Gabby was my literary friend. We went everywhere together and wrote poems. Arnold called me a cradle snatcher but we both knew that we couldn’t fill shoes. So, we just put the respective shoes in museums. This is what makes this such a fantastic love story.

Gabby died in 2010. I heard about his demise by chance. I attended his funeral in Lagos. That funeral was what inspired me to write the fictitious story, At the End. You can read that story here – https://jummycaxton.art.blog/2021/12/23/at-the-end/. May God rest his soul.

Arnold and I talk from time to time. I guess I don’t know how to break up properly. I never learnt, even though Wesley tried hard to teach me but his is another story. Isn’t it odd that when asked to tell a story of falling in love, you think of one person, and when asked to tell a story of heartbreak, you think of another? Is it possible for your heart to get broken if you didn’t fall in love? The human mind amazes me.

Any time I had troubling decisions to make, I went to him. Anytime I needed suitor assessment, I went to him as well. I remember the day he met my husband… should that be story for another day? Lol

Caxto and I had gone out on a date that lingered till very late, after 9pm. At about 7pm, Arnold had called me that he was in town and he was hungry and UCH didn’t have anything good to offer. The Abrahams’ (not real name) in Ring Road was too far and the other options had all been ticked off. I was already out on my date so I told him to just go home and use his charm on my mum. She wouldn’t let him go without feeding him anyway. So, he did. When I got back from my date at almost 9:30pm, Caxto walked me into the house. The tray Arnold ate with was in my mum’s hand. Apparently, she didn’t let the help attend to him. He was sipping cold Harp, my dad’s beer, with his legs on a stool in front of him. This confidence must be the guy’s undoing. He was so at home.

So, this is where I became sure that Caxto was my husband. He came in to say hello. Arnold’s standard suitor test was applied – he told him Janice had told him so much about him. Caxto naturally replied, same here. Now, the clincher for me was that Caxto said “Nice to finally meet you”, shook his hand, turned to me and said “Good night, Janice”. Did you get that? A virile, hot-blooded, handsome hunk was in my living room and Caxto did not bother to play the waiting game to see who would leave first, as men who try to show possession do. He just left me with him and never ever asked when he left or what we did after he left. That was the first time, (most likely the only time) that my handsome and influential friend did not have a man in my life fear his overwhelming influence. For that, he liked Caxto, though he didn’t like the fact that his jackets were too short.

Meanwhile, I had been looking for a guy who would not feel threatened by my plethora of male friends and Caxto checked that box completely with that encounter. He even got along famously with Julian (not real name), the threat that must have chased Wesley away. Unfortunately, no one told me that was a temporary thing; that when I grow a potbelly and look like a zebra from stretch marks, my husband would suddenly feel that all the men in the world are after me… oh well, that is another story for another day. I think this is a good place for this series to end, don’t you?

That semester, Arnold and I got personal. I found out almost all there was to find out about his family. He did about mine (though he didn’t meet them until the following session. He broke up (he claims they never dated) with Yvonne (not real name). (Rose was interested but not dating. Note my choice of words o). Actually, he defined his relationship in a way that Yvonne knew she won’t get anything from their following themselves up and down.
Rose expected to be “promoted” but neither his elder brother, his girlfriend at the time (Yolanda) nor their mum liked her much. These conclusions are from observations. So, she was “zoned” into being a good friend that liked “hanging around” and giving him gifts. He was getting closer to me _“in her very before”_ and she found it quite upsetting but there was nothing she could do about it.
You know I am a good friend. I was a good friend to him. Theresa and Jeffery were dating and 4 of us used to go everywhere together so it started looking like we were double dating. We had pictures to show that though it wasn’t really the case but we were the only ones who knew that. I was strongly there for him and he was strongly there for me, as friends.
He taught me bible at every opportunity. He would actually ask me to share whatever I learnt from my daily devotion with him whenever we saw. This meant I had to study daily to have something to share. He showed me Daniel 11:32. I will never forget that class. We discussed in front of his brother’s room on Bini Road, or was it Yolanda’s room?
Fast forward to the end of my first session. I started suffering from what my pastor calls the _Ogbanje_ in me. Lol. We had call times. My home phone or the neighbour’s. We spoke for an hour daily or thereabout. I started seeing things in the Spirit. I saw his entire wardrobe for the new session (though I didn’t see who bought them). I visited him at home in my dreams. When I told him of my visit and described his house, he knew he was in trouble.
I knew the mortar was under a table in the kitchen. I knew the cupboard in which dog food was kept. There were two types of chairs in their living room. I even tripped on the wood between the living room and the passage leading to the rooms in my dreams. I saw his mum’s full mirror in her bedroom. I laughed at him because his towel at home was pink.

I not only saw everything, I remembered everything I saw. Well, now that I think about it, I find it odd that he didn’t find it worrisome that I was clairvoyant.
I saw the places we would go to together in the new session, the troubles we would have escaping riots, even the sexual advances. Advanced seeing. How was I able to see all these, seeing as we were just friends and he, who was schooling me in the Spirit, didn’t see things in this manner? Was it the work of familiar spirits? I guess I would never be able to test that now…
Anyway, the new session started and he needed a place to stay. When he came to sort his accommodation issues in one of the shirts I had already seen, we went touring everywhere hand in hand. The holidays had bonded us. I ended up asking Jeffery to allow him stay with him in a BQ on Amina Way. That was how aside from sleeping in Idia Hall at night in 200level, I stayed in Jeffery’s room during the day. Theresa wanted to be there with Jeffery anyway.
Arnold wasn’t an _out out_ person so we were mostly indoors. We had a lot of unusual privacy, now that I think of it… I couldn’t cook to save my life but he taught me to cook. Whenever I tried, it was almost always salty. Only thing I could do to perfection was fry eggs, sunny side up. He taught me that too. His jollof spaghetti was gangster. He taught me how to make it as well. He introduced me to jazz; Nat King Cole especially.
That was when we started having attention issues. We got each other’s attention. 101%. Which mean that when I was talking to him or he was talking to me, a burning room was just wasting its time. Seriously. You can’t understand how bad it was. There was once a full room of about 15 classmates shouting our names and staring at us and we couldn’t hear any sound apart from each other’s voices. Those ones were testing us though. They had noticed and they wanted to find out how bad the condition was. These things really upset Rose who was still interested and who was hearing gist about sizzling romance. Lol.
It was on one of those weekends while he was staying on Amina Way that he went home for supplies and money. I had an estimated time for his return and when it was time, I surfaced in their room. His things were in the room but he was nowhere to be found. There was no one there actually. I let myself in and settled down. He returned. Missing people does things to you, really. We had missed each other. We were only usually apart between 11pm and 8am. We usually spent about 15hours together on a daily basis. He had been gone the entire weekend.
He hugged me and swung me around before putting me down. The height difference is about 8 inches. We sat on the mattress and did some staring. Naturally, you know what would follow such staring.

Yep, what you have been waiting for since I started telling stories every weekend – a first kiss. Cool lips, like the type you would get after a drink of very cold water. The feeling was also akin to the relief from cold water on a parched throat. Do you want graphic details? Well, I am not writing erotica. Besides, this was what, 21 or 22 years ago. How am I supposed to remember the details? Lol.
Anyway, one thing I cannot forget was the touching and romantic speech that came afterwards. Still holding me, he looked into my eyes and likened me to a golden apple. He took his time to describe it with the smooth light green back and the golden highlights at the middle. He confessed that he had known that the kiss would taste and feel like eating such apples; bursting with honeyed sweetness. If anyone said that to you, would you forget?
Like you probably suspected, physical touches, including kissing, became habitual. But we were dental students and so we were almost always in class (8am – 5pm with a one-hour break at 1pm). Save for when we had anatomy practicals, we were not together in class. I had a number of people who were interested in me and so did he. There were also a number of people I was interested in. People noted though that there was something unusual in how we related to each other. My pet name was _Babylove_. I didn’t remember to give him a pet name.
Clairvoyance made life easy for me and well, he had to deal with a number of things. I knew when he wasn’t feeling well. I knew when he was feeling too good. I knew if anything had anything to do with him. I just knew. It went from dreaming about what would happen to him to just knowing something was wrong. Then it degenerated, I could tell what was wrong without dreaming about it. Later, I would feel in my body whatever his body was feeling. I don’t think he liked it much but he never complained. Much later, when we had broken up, when I show up, especially when he had girl troubles, he would just look up at me and say “They have come to tell you, abi?”.
Have you ever had a clairvoyant partner?

How did you cope?
Maybe I should ask him why it never really bothered him or why he never really bothered me about it.
For years after we split, I would still know. The last major one I remember was knowing that his mum would buy a benz (I think it was blue) before his sister’s wedding. I dreamt of it and told him and he denied it. I told him I came for the wedding in my dream and he showed me and he said there was no such plan. A few days to the wedding, when he discovered the plan, he let me know I had been right but insisted that I got the colour wrong. Of course, that changed when they took delivery of the car. I had been right all along.
It should have been a burden to me as well – knowing. However, being a fresh convert, I hadn’t ever experienced any other type of Christian life. I considered it natural to know.
1998 came with some financial trouble. He invested money in a viewing centre for the 1998 world cup. He ended up having no textbooks, no dissecting set, no lab coat, no feeding money. I took care of  that. I split my allowance into two, giving him a portion. I ate from home and brought him food weekends. Do you want to hear that story? Then read it up.
https://jummycaxton.art.blog/2021/12/03/my-little-black-dress/
For those who asked what they did in that story before Heroine left that night, well, this is the no holds barred discussion. She took out black heads. Lol. What did you think I was going to write? Somehow, his face was smooth but he had pimples on his back. She usually sat at his waist, with him face down, while she removed black heads (and sometimes, white heads) from the pimples on his back. Sometimes, this activity would lull him to sleep, her touch being so relaxing.
At other times, it would work some tension into him and make him roll over unto his back. On the day he bought the black dress, he rolled over unto his back and thus, she had to face him, since she didn’t get up from her sitting position. I am certain that you recall that touching etc had become a habit. You can go ahead to finish that story by yourself. They were teenagers after all.

Many experiences stand out during this period. However, I don’t remember them at once. I only remember them when there are triggers.
I remember that we had a grooming routine that had me combing his hair whenever we had to go out together. We didn’t wear each other’s stuff but we fed each other from time to time. Getting physical was somewhat faltering. He imagined he had some experience. I had a lot of textbook experience. I read too much and my mum was a nurse who left the right (or wrong) types of books lying around. There were a lot of tentative explorations. Mostly, we were just glad to be in each other’s company most of the time.
I remember that sometime after I had decided to change to Law, as a way of showing support, he followed me to see Prof F at Agronomy. It was Prof who took me to meet the Dean of Law at the time, Prof. Ojo, to get him to help me process my change of course. As soon as Prof F saw him, he shifted his attention from my mission to the boy that was with me. He started asking questions like “what is going on between you two? I never see one without the other. Young man, what does she mean to you?” Arnold had a cocky way about him, always meeting eyes and answering questions self-assuredly. He told him I was a very special friend. Of course, that had me preening.
That night, he had us take a stroll on Amina Way. I guess Prof’s questions made him really feel lovey dovey all day that day, professing undying affection and making me laugh a lot. While strolling, he made us turn in at Prof’s walkway. I was a bit confused because I didn’t have any business there. He however took me to the back of Prof’s bedroom window and slowly and deliberately took my breath away, under the stars.
He was kind enough to explain that he wanted to give Prof evidence of whatever he wanted to know. This didn’t really make any sense, since we didn’t knock on the door and invite anyone to watch the display. However, as you and I know, this display worked severe damage on the young girl’s psyche. The boy was just a _Don Juan De Marco._

You can Google it!
At this point, there is nothing else to talk about aside from the break up conversation. We were friends and we have stayed as friends since we met, irrespective of the phases of growth of the relationship. The mutual dependence was alarming but maybe when you date seriously when you are too young, it is an issue. He never asked me out, by the way. We just went from gisting about what we would love to have and be in the future to what it would be like to create that future together. We just fell into the habit of planning and doing “life” with each other.

Was that how the relationship started? No. However, from that moment onwards, I was in awe of him. As it would turn out, I found out that he was in my department and as such we had exactly the same courses and the same extracurricular activities, including departmental outreaches etc. So he was at Dentistry Orientation. We went for Gbagi Dental Outreach together. He was at Awo Hall Outreach when our senior colleagues, and indeed the professors, discovered that I had the largest and best formed torus palatinus they had ever seen in their lives in my mouth. This story is educational. Google it. Lol.

Anyway, all these times, we were hi/hello friends. We had started talking simple sentences like where are you from, where do you stay, can I have your notes after class etc. We were classmates after all. Nothing personal. I had however gotten curious about Christianity and what they used to do in their fellowship. I mean, what can they be doing that would keep a rich and fine boy coming twice a week? Ko make sense si mi men… I had started asking a lot of questions.

I had a lot of toasters but I wasn’t dating anyone. I had discovered my sexuality a lifetime before then, though I was a virgin. I was busy being publicly sexually provocative and tormenting all the guys that dared to think they could toast me. Saying yes was not in sight anyway. All na play. An example is what I did to Ope Filani. He dared to ask me if I didn’t think my pink dresses were too short for class. So, I waited for him to go and sit with his girlfriend on one of those days that we were waiting for a lecturer that had no plans of coming. Then I went to the stage in front of the board at FLT and shouted to him in the middle of the class “Ope, by the way, I am not wearing anything under. Do you want to step outside?” I didn’t wait to see his reaction or hers before stepping outside to buy biscuit and drink.

Naturally, I made the news but I was a snob. I wasn’t someone they could talk to without being officially introduced. I wouldn’t even remember to “see” you. Funny enough, now that I think of it, I met all sorts of guys through Theresa sef. She was a tomboy; always wearing jeans and plaid long-sleeved shirts, waist length braids and ankle length boots. She stood out like a sore thumb and was a favourite with the boys. She even played football. Rme.

Now, where was I? At this time, Jeffrey (not real name) was toasting Theresa and as the official best friend, he (and several other toasters actually) were going through me. We had somehow become a company of 3, though they always got their private moments. I was somewhat closer to Jeffrey on a friendship level than Theresa was and I somehow connected to the members of his family too. Janice the charmer. May this charm bring me money very soon. Amen. I am digressing again. Kai!

Anyway, Arnold and I became classmates that talk during practicals and that discuss courses and lecturers. It was nothing personal until we were forced to get personal. Well, the Rose girl was manipulative. I also came across as a spoilt rich girl. My dad was a commissioner at the time. On account of this, she liked to think she was taking advantage of me. I just liked giving irrespective of the motive of the recipient. Therefore, whenever Arnold travelled, Rose would use my Nitel Call Cards to call him. Whenever I didn’t have call cards, she would ask me to call him at home in Lagos from the landline at home. That was how I got his phone number and our conversations got a bit more personal. I was home all weekend, every weekend. So we kinda spoke a lot. Still nothing too personal.

December 1997, he was seriously ill. He was home for almost 3weeks. While he was home, they fixed dates for our GES 101 exams. I didn’t have NITEL cards. Rose had used up all calling to check on him. The line at home was disconnected as well. I could only receive calls at my neighbour’s. On account of this, he wasn’t sure when to call. So, like Rose did, I delegated checking on him to my dad. Pause and read the line again. I know that is what you want to do. Lol.

The first time his mum picked the phone and it was my dad on the line, she took her time to explain to him that the Aina in their house was a small boy. Dad laughed and told her he knew and that his daughter told him he was sick and that he should check on him and tell him exam dates. Of course, after that conversation, his mum lectured him that those were the type of girls he wanted him to hang around and not the other type. (She had met Rose). Girls from good homes who genuinely cared and had vibrant open relationships with their parents etc… She passed on two weeks after my dad passed on. May God rest their souls.

Anyway, GES day came and he came round for the exam from Lagos. After he was done, he came looking for me. Since we were all in Dentistry (Rose was in Human Nutrition), we were all in the same venue, Faculty of Basic Medical Sciences, somewhere around Anatomy Department on Amina Way in the University of Ibadan. I guess that was the day we hugged for the first time. I guess he was appreciative of the care and concern while he was away (I was helping him write the notes I could because Rose asked me to). So, he ended up putting his arms around me while we were walking up and down Amina Way. I wasn’t used to it and Theresa and Jeffery found it funny because they knew I had a very bad bark (no bite).

Anyway, one thing stood out this day, more than the physical contact. We went to eat at Mama Anat. Jeffrey and Theresa ordered first and went to sit down. He placed his order and asked me what I wanted. Since I was taking so much time to think about the order, he handed me his wallet and went to sit down.

It might not have meaning to you but let me explain. He gave me his wallet and walked away. It’s just like girls feel the guy wants to marry them when he gives them the spare keys to his house. Lol. He bloody freaking gave me his wallet! I could do anything I wanted with its contents. He was no longer there to control what I did with it. His t-fare back to Lagos was in it. He was still under the weather and couldn’t stay in school.

Now, he knew what he did was say without words – I trust you. So, why was he trusting me? Some things tamper with some people’s settings more than other things. If he had tried to grope me or kiss me, I reckon I would have been able to handle it. The only man that had ever trusted me with his money in this life was my dad and even at that, I was supervised. This made a statement – this guy is different and this friendship would definitely be different.

I bought my food with plenty meat and gave him his wallet back. I didn’t spend more than I would spend if it were my money because I was used to eating well with plenty meat. I no spend pass N200. Lol. We both knew that something changed that day sha. We were no longer acquaintances. We were friends. What did you think I was going to say? You are just a hopeless romantic. Na food I buy na. We didn’t kiss under the stars or anything like that. Lol. He went back to Lagos and I didn’t see him again until after resumption in the New Year.

8th of January, 1998, I went to BLW for the first time. If you ever ask me when I got born again, I would quote that date. It was impossible for me to taste koinonia and return home the same way. Naturally, finding out that fine boy mulato was the keyboardist did not help at all. You don’t get – he wasn’t occupying space out of boredom. He was committed. Funny enough, I just remembered that that day, he wore the same shirt he wore on my birthday. Lol. Sentimental sturvs. Him and his shirt were the last things on my mind though. Pastor Kayode Adenuga preached on friendship with Jesus and what it implied. It made too much sense. I joined fellowship. Started following Jesus and went straight into Christianity from 0% to 100%. Took me a while to figure out speaking in tongues though. That took over a year.

When I was baptized in the Holy Ghost, he was there praying with me. He held my hand. It was Ugo Nwaomu, our PCF Leader, that did the honours. I remember that when I was still trying to understand the laying on of hands, I felt him let go of my hand and I felt the earth quake. My guy had fallen under the anointing. All 6 feet 4 inches of him. A body fully yielded to God. Those things became clearer because he always explained them to the pagan in me. My Christian story really isn’t much without him.

Hi.

If I told you what this was about, you would laugh at me. So, let me add some suspense. I have a story I am itching to tell; a story you are itching to hear. Well, it is a story I have told before. However, I need to tell it again, to tell as much as I can remember, without consulting the earlier narrative.

My first ever novel was written in a weekend sometime in January 1999. That means that I was 18years old. I started writing and couldn’t stop writing. As soon as I finished that story, I realized that I didn’t like how it ended. So, I had to write a sequel from pure imagination. I kept writing and finished a second story. Unfortunately, I realized that the main actors were not born again in the sequel, so I had to write a third story in which both of them would be converted. The title of the trilogy was Winds of Change. The three parts were individually titled – Genesis, Nemesis and The Thesis. Yes, I have always loved rhymes. Omotola Okunlola, my editor, is why you have not seen them on bookstands. Please deal with her for me, okay?

So, why did I start writing? I started writing after a break up conversation. I wanted to preserve the moments of a relationship that meant so much. I needed to record it in writing, so I would never forget. Naturally, there were some spiritual moments in that relationship. They are not fit for a novel and so they were never written. However, I would write as much as I can in this narrative about it. Humans with the Holy Spirit might have a slight understanding of the things I “suffered”. I have not had any other experience like it, either before or after, in relation to any single person. We know in part and we prophesy in part. I know that in a face to face discussion with Jesus, I would understand, when I know as fully as I am known now.

Three paragraphs without any gist. Only Jumoke can do this. LOL! I got into UI to study Dentistry in May, 1997 at the age of 16. Resumption was 19th May, 1997. I didn’t get accommodation and so I stayed in Queens Hall, squatting with a family friend, Kike Dada. Classes were held at FLT. We were over 1000 students and we were from both the Faculty of Science and the Faculty of Basic Medical Sciences. There were never enough seats. I could see well, so I was a back-bencher. I sat where all the fine boys were; natural gravitational tendencies. Most times, someone gave me a seat, usually a guy. I however made friends with a short playful girl called Theresa (not real name, of course). We were best friends for several years.

In 100 level, when I was not wearing t-shirt and jeans, which I only wore like once a week, I was wearing a body hug and a silk wrap skirt (the wrap skirts existed in both long and short, no midi). The only other alternative to my body hugs were pink A-line dresses. They were short sleeved, button down, and they did not get to my knees. What this meant was that if it was a windy day… Well, story for the gods.

A few times, I saw Theresa talking to a skinny, very tall, light-skinned boy. Apparently, they went to the same “fellowship”, Believers’ Love World (BLW). I didn’t even know what fellowships were, since I came from a lineage of jaye jaye boys. She mentioned that his name was Arnold (not real name either). He was in the top 10 look-gooding guys in our huge class. But then, yellow boys sha. As we look at such, we un-look them. It took me almost a full semester to realize that any day I wore my pink dresses, he always sang the same song when I was passing. The sound track of Pretty Woman. It was when I realized what song it was that I also realized that Julia Roberts wore a dress like mine in that movie. His singing made sense but guess what? He never looked at me while singing, which was why I never caught on to the gimmick.

It was not love at first sight but he had very interesting piercing eyes. It could not even be love at first sight. DE, AO’s friend from my Akure days, was in love with me and I was struggling to help him understand that he should have asked me out in computer school when I was emotionally available. Instead, he gave his best friend, SI, permission to chase me. Since he missed his timing, I had moved on. I was fighting peer and family pressure of all the people who found our “relationship” cute and who were treating me like their in-law – sending me stuff from the UK, taking me out etc. Some people’s life issues started early. Lol. Maybe I will tell his own story some other weekend.

Anyway, I should have suspected that we would have attention issues in the future. This is because the very first time he looked at me, Theresa was talking to him at the back of FLT and I wanted to talk to her. That was how we made eye contact and he stopped hearing what Theresa was saying. Later on in life, we had difficulty hearing people when talking, especially when making eye contact. Locking eyes with him always created an inexplicable cocoon around us. I saw a picture of us talking late last year and I noted the body language in it… Some things change while some remain the same. I apologize for digressing…

Our first proper conversation was on my 17th birthday on the 3rd of September, 1997. Maybe that is why I think whatever it was was special, abi? Lol. Well, it was a very short conversation. That conversation changed my life. Arnold was talking to Rose (another fictitious name), who was interested in him at the time. (Na fine boy. Na girls dey rush am). Theresa and I were leaving FLT. She stopped to greet them and chat. When she realized she was wasting my time, she told them she had to go because it was my birthday. Arnold turned to me;

“Wow! Happy Birthday. It’s a special day indeed. I want to ask you a question though. I hope you don’t mind”.

“No, I don’t”. I half expected him to ask if I would be busy in the evening.

“Are you born again?”

Never before and never after has that question had that much meaning. In that moment, I looked at him to understand who was asking. I was convinced that the boy was a club boy before that question. Wearing a pair of form fitting Valentino jeans. A coral coloured long sleeved Polo shirt and lovely shoes, maybe Timberlands – as in, designer head to toe. On top of everything, he was drop dead gorgeous- if men can be described in such a manner.

Somehow, life had taught me that only the low lives got born again. People who didn’t have money, or who couldn’t get girls or who were social misfits. I couldn’t believe my ears. I opened and closed my mouth several times like a fish out of water. Now, I can’t even remember what my response was. I however know that he led me aside from those girls before asking and I don’t think we said a sinner’s prayer. This means that I must have said yes, although I wasn’t born again at the time.

So, that’s how I studied law and finished as a lawyer.

Legal practice was another matter though. Joining my dad’s law firm after law school was an error. Don’t you wonder why? I will tell you.

Please note that I always worked in my dad’s law firm as a word processor on and off since I left Wokkman Computer College, Akure in 1996. Acquiring a law degree didn’t make a difference. I was just a learned typist.
The head of chambers refused to place me on a salary because I lived in my dad’s house and drove his car. According to him, I didn’t need money.

My learned seniors just could not see me as anything but the last born and they didn’t expect any intellectual contributions from me. My self esteem was battered. I had to exit the environment.

To help their ego, I didn’t go to another firm. I sought and got a job in a bank (UBA) instead. I did that for 3weeks before going to Nokia, a job I held for 1year
Looking back, I must have amused my colleagues. I sat at Kola’s feet and soaked it all up; his knowledge, his aspirations, his paradigms (I left his religion for him sha, he is a Muslim).

I regurgitated everything Kola taught verbatim. I could reproduce Kola. This unusual skill was acknowledged when I was interviewed for the position of second training manager less than 3 months after I was employed, before my appointment as retail consultant was even confirmed!
In Nokia I discovered many things, the most important of which was that law was not the most lucrative discipline that uses the talents of speaking and writing!

I was a retail consultant. I managed relationships excellently and won every award they dared to conceive. I was an over-performer!

I also discovered the training manager, Kola Osinowo, aka Sugar Sugar. He was everything I wanted to be – a 26year old millionaire who was paid to teach what everyone should know. I fell in love with hsuccess.
Now, what do I do now?

I speak – I always have.
I write – I always have.
I teach – let’s blame Kola.
I practice law – let’s blame schooling.

So, let me ask you, dear reader, how did I discover purpose?
I didn’t get the job as training manager in Nokia but that didn’t mean anything to Kola.

He told me the courses to take. He directed me to the professional bodies to join. He exposed me to the books to read. Though younger, he gave my career as a trainer direction.

Kola is my mentor; has been since I met him.

In finding purpose, you might need people who have gone before you to hold your hand.
I left Nokia to pursue a masters in International Trade and Investment Law in Africa from the University of Western Cape, SA. I came back, got married, had Sapphire and subsequently got a job with Skye Bank as a Legal Officer.

Guess what, before my appointment with Skye Bank was confirmed, I became the official trainer of Legal Aspects of Banking to new recruits.

Your core/calling/purpose will always rise to the top no matter where you find yourself.
So, back in UI, I joined a fellowship. I was head of drama. Then I became a PCF leader. Then I was asked to work in the Fellowship Secretariat. While there, the pastor got an idea that he wanted to write letters to all members (over 1000) on a weekly basis. Guess who was put in charge of that? Yours truly.

I wrote letters effortlessly! I wrote at every opportunity. I started writing our members weekly charges, though the pastor signed the letters.
On the other hand, this series is titled My Journey to Discovering Purpose. The journey isn’t over yet! I am still discovering what I am supposed to do…

All I have spoken about, is that all that I do? No. I do philanthropy. How did that come about? Let me share.
In little time, the members started responding to the love in the letters. They would visit the fellowship secretariat. They soon discovered that I was the one who remembered their names, room numbers, birthdays and challenges. Without a title, I started mothering people from all walks of life and varied background. It became my business to meet their needs and those of the leaders too. I became a walking administrator and care giver. This I still do till date.
Let me finish up this story by saying:

Pay attention to the things you like to do.

How do you find what you like to do? By doing what you can when you get the chance to.

What needs around you get to you?

Who would you love to be like?
No matter where I find myself, I am the welfare person. I am the person who hears about the needs and the difficulties. I am the one who raises help for those who need it. I am the one who gives emotional support to those who feel lost. I became the link between them and their desires and it naturally involved a lot of counseling.

Many concluded I would be a pastor’s wife from watching my handle these things on autopilot.
So I hope that with these few words of mine, I have been able to help somebody understand better that purpose is a journey and many of the things we do are merely assignments on our way to discovering purpose

Till I come back with my next assignment, which is serenading you with a romance story to set the tone for the New Year, here I am saying:
Your life is a story that would teach others how to do well! Share it!