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Please what should I say to her? Rape 2

She looked at me puzzled. I stared back in shocked surprise. Elegantly dressed, a lawyer and very incisive in her comments.
‘When you look at me, you assume I have got the best of both worlds right?’
I nodded wondering what was coming and unprepared for her next sentence
‘I wish I have the nerve to kill myself, that is after I have killed him’
I asked her softly why she wanted to kill anybody in the first place including herself
Then she talked.
At nine years old, she was not sure she was going to get an education at all. Her mother was one of three wives and her father had declared that the wives were to look after the girls they had given birth to.
‘He called us apprentice witches who had taken after our mothers’
The women did the best they could either appealing to their own siblings, eking out something from their petty trade. According to Yemi, there wasn’t much to expect from her mum so her uncle was called to help.

‘ the First day on the farm, he asked me to come to the pepper patch I understood what he did then as some form of sexual assault. He had not progressed to actual rape. He said he liked me and if I kept my head, he would ensure I had a fair deal in his house. I was too awed by his big frame and his armpits smelled awful. I slept badly that night.
Next morning, he took me off to the local authority school and registered me in kindergarten one. I was almost 10 years old. The teachers taught I was a joke. Most of my classmates in a kindergarten class could speak better than me. I was the class giraffe, the fool, the errand idiot. They laughed but I was silent. I was finally in school. My mum was over the moon and she thanked her brother over and over again.
‘Two weeks of school, Uncle got drunk and I got my first rape’. Yemi went on talking in a matter of fact voice as if she was giving the facts and potentials of the case she was about to defend in court.
My heart sank as I listened, what was I going to do? Nothing much I realized as I listened to a woman who had learned to keep her own counsel and had in some fashion maybe come to some peace.
As she got older, she was able to run away and come to the city. Yemi read privately as an external student to do her WAEC. She got a job as a cleaner in one of the banks and gradually went for more courses and was able to pay her way to read the law.

She never told her mum about the pepper patch rapes. She said she did not see what good that would serve. It was payment for the opportunity to be able to read and write.
Her mother passed away when she was in 300 level in the university. When she met Bayo, she went through the motions of an excited bride and was relieved when she got pregnant. But still had nightmares of the rapes
She had a perfect excuse to keep the physical side of their relationship to the barest minimum. She had also learned to control her rages
‘I did not like all that romance stuff he was into, did not like undressing, did not want any male looking at my body so I was happy being a born-again wife. However I had developed a crazy mannerism, I would bathe at every opportunity and would perfume my body all over. If Bayo touched me I would go stiff as a board and freak out. At first, Bayo found it amusing and thought I was just shy’
‘You never told him about your uncle’?
‘Are you mad? First, he will not believe me, then that look will come into his eyes and he will watch you every minute, or he will start asking you every tiny detail wondering or teasing that you probably enjoyed even a tiny bit of the rape’.

So what do you want to do? I asked when the silence was beginning to stretch
‘Bayo wants to visit my uncle to thank him for the education, If I lay eyes on that uncle, I will have to kill him and then kill myself to stop the torture of years and misery. Will you get someone to stand for my child?’
Please, what should I say to her?

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PLEDGES OF LOVE


PLEDGES OF LOVE
Hello there
This is some kind of special post for me. I am celebrating. Not just a love affair that has lasted in spite of odds against its survival, but I learned the meaning of prayer in times of acute need.
Have I never prayed? I think I did since I was always thinking of improving my reaction to the challenges Life brings and since these thoughts impelled my poems. I have prayed for my children, I have prayed against hunger, we all do. I have found myself asking sadly if the Creator intended that in this incarnation I might have to be of want for most of the time. I have learned to be content with what I could have, based on my work and reluctantly I have assumed owning a plane might not make it into my bucket list. (Go ahead and laugh)

However,I learned in May this year, the meaning of wanting something so badly I could only mutter one word of prayer with an urgency and desperation that left me blinking. Just the name of the Lord.My prayer was answered in such a stupendous way that I have been awed silent since then. But I need to say thank you to friends who held me silently, virtually, and some of them I never met.

This is my thank you to everyone, for one week with effect from Friday 15th September subscribers, and anyone is free to download my collection of romantic poems. Creation swings on the axis of God’s LOVE.

All you need do is going to the products page and download PLEDGES OF LOVE for your reading pleasure.
I hope you enjoy it as I did at the various times I did.

It will have a sale price thereafter.
Thank you for being my friend, you will never know how much you contributed to being me, it is my way of awed appreciation that with all my shortcomings a wordless desperate prayer was answered by the Creator of all the worlds.

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Poetry my love

Sounds funny when I say that. But I am always awed when I read poetry. There is a trend in my country these days, the spoken word. But, I wonder why it took us such a long time. When I came down south from the North, one of the things I enjoyed was listening to my grandmother render poetry in her soft musical voice. It was a way of life for her, she was a priestess of the loving kind. She would greet the day, the morning and whatever issue she had could be resolved with poetry. Most times I didn’t understand the words,but always felt the rhythm.

When I gotto secondary school, myteachers almost took the love of poetry away from me with the constant attention to rhymes and such stuff. I found myself needing to look for words that ryhmed and I felt I lost the spontaneity of the words as they came to me. I enjoyed myself though by simply ignoring that and wrote from the heart. The words would bubble out of me and I would just write.

My first ever published work was a collection of poems I called CHANTS IN MY DREAMS. I have been taking a look at the book, that was some twenty years ago and I still found the poems spoke to me even now. I am making an ebook of it and would like to invite you to visit my website to read some of the poems and if you love them enough to order for the ebook. The ebook should be ready by the end of the month or earlier.
Would like to share with you and who knows might learn a thing or two from you if you post your thoughts back on the website.
Here are just two from the 130+ pages.
WAKE UP
Wake up quickly
greet the dawn
in gratitude for
your life

Wake up happy
see the sun
the gifts of love
to make hay
all your life

Wake up laughing
hear the birds
join the choir
of angels in heaven
with the industry
of your life

Wake up grateful
watch the earthworm
sow through all
you do, your expectations
through Him
of the gift of Eternity
for your spirit

STOKING MY STROKES
There are different strokes
so my mama said
when I tried to stoke
the fires of life.
listen son, she said
one stroke for each prayer
one stroke for each desire
mayhaps success will reach

So now I am stroking,
an angle tilted toward luck
the lady with the capricious smile
a prayer also,
that while thus stroking,
fate bored with his lady luck
will fling her smiling into my
waiting arms.
has life ever been won
with so much strokes.?

Looking forward to you exploring anddropping your comments.

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DO I HAVE SIX STOMACHS?

It started innocently enough, one of my girls insisted I love one of her sisters the most of my children and she really lashed out in pain. We always argued and I tended to keep asking her to get her act right. Then she told me I was trying to put her in a mould and very sharply told me she is different. ‘Do what grandma told you, have space in your stomach for me but not in the same space with my sister’

My mother had always said she had six stomachs, that is where the stomach talk came from.
I remember staring at her stomach often. How can you have six stomachs?

I did not understand for a long time until my understanding of my language made it clearer that what mum meant was that she had six different understanding of her six children r did she mean love or favour?

Can parents favour one child over the other? I really do not want to answer that question even for me. But I understand my mother after I had six children myself. Do I favour one child over the other? Please don’t ask me the question again. I am reluctant to ask myself and I refuse to answer because you see, I really don’t have an answer
In my race, we tend to check for the origin of an incarnation, so we might understand the manner of invitation or mission of the child thus invited. I remember I wondered about my first son and knew well ahead about the others some part of the manner of their incarnation. No I am not being fanciful.

How do you see your children? Could they really be friends?. I watch my friends sometimes when they try to impose a religion on their children and they generally support these impositions with plentiful quotes from the good books. So how did I become such a rebel?

I hate being pigeon-holed and generally leave an association once it begins to stifle me. Almost all my children have picked these traits.

Do I have six stomachs? Do I view my children differently?, rate them differently? Yes of course, because they are six, uniquely different from each other. Then I understood mum. Yes you can have six stomachs. Yes you love them differently. Equally? Ergh, can we compare love by volume? Quality? Love? That serves, nourishes, strengthen? I doubt. What is the measure?

Some nights I just lie awake agonising over a child who seemed to me to be so different from me that I wonder how we happen to have woven a thread that necessitated us sharing another incarnation together. I wonder, agonize and sometimes am at pains to understand. I am not the only mother who does that you know.
It was one of the reasons that helped me talk to my mother again. I could finally understand and empathize with her confusion over me. I think I gave her the most cause for headaches. I was so different that we hardly could have a meeting point.

Now as a parent and grandma, I remember and sometimes nod in silent acknowledgement of my mother’s comment over six stomachs. I probably have six stomachs too.
How do we navigate the parenting waters and be able to bring each child to shore safely and move on without leaving scars or scarring them too negatively?

I do seem to have a lot of questions right? And you must have assumed I have forgotten all about parenting.
The invitation is still open to visit the parenting forum on the site and do let me know what you think.
How many stomachs do you have?
Talk soon

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Books, Books and much more

Hello,
I am going to be talking books in thenext few weeks.
Naturally in agreement with the saying that charity begins at home, I will talk about my own books and where you can buy them.
I gave you that information before right? Okay, I have the pleasure to let you know that the last of the Numen trilogy can be bought in Nigeria, starting from this website.So let’s go over them again
BLOOD CONTRACT

For Ken,going home to The Niger delta after 15 years was not exactly what he asked for when he joined the security firm he worked for as a negotiator. The past he thought he had left behind had to be negotiated if he wants a future.
‘If I can’t mend my father’s house , I should not bring sh.t to his doorstep’he told Ganfo, but his security company would like to know what $30,000 was doing in his account especially when a whole ship was being held hostage

Numen Yeye

Book one of the Numen trilogy that starts from the incarnation of a light spirit, confused about her origin, and living amongst a tribe that thrived on witches, emeres and abiku. Imole Ife’s mum had qucikly forgotten what led to her being given permission to have a healthy baby after suffering the attention of the Dark one that tormented her with repeated childbirths that never made it to their second year. Her daughter did not follow the habits of an emere or abiku, she was just darn strange! Ife learns that she is the goddess of the town, and was not impressed at all! Read the story of her spiritual awakening and accepting her life mission and responsibilities in the trilogy of Numen Yeye
Rose of Numen

and the final Numen!

You can buy these books from our website biolaephesus.com

Sunshine booksellers at sunshinebooksellers.com
Mosuro Booksellers Ibadan
Toyin Bookshops in Akure

Visit our website today

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Let us be sincere

Let us be sincere with the children too.
A lot of us tend to boast as parents that we were picture perfect children tour own parents. We tell our own children how butter never melted in our mouths and how we were model children.
A parent sent me this and I read through carefully looking for the logs in my own eyes first. I thought I should share with you. Parenting apparently has been an issue since from the time of Adam and Eve.
Tirukkural by Tiruvalluvar (a Tamil poet/writer) was written more than 5,000 yrs ago. It’s one of the ancient science on Human Behaviour, which has not changed in spite of modern education & technology!*

*SOME GOLDEN THOUGHTS OF THIRUKKURAL:*

1. *If your child lies to you often, it is because you over-react too harshly to their inappropriate behaviour.*

2. *If your child is not taught to confide in you about their mistakes, you’ve lost them.*

3. *If your child had poor self-esteem, it is because you advice them more than you encourage them.*

4. *If your child does not stand up for themselves, it is because from a young age you have disciplined them regularly in public.*

5. *If your child takes things that do not belong to them, it is because when you buy them things, you don’t let them chose what they want.*

6. *If your child is cowardly, it is because you help them too quickly.*

7. *If your child does not respect other people’s feelings, it is because instead of speaking to your child, you order & command them.*

8. *If your child is too quick to anger, it is because you give too much attention to misbehaviour & you give little attention to good behaviour.*

9. *If your child is excessively jealous, it is because you only congratulate them when they successfully complete something & not when they improve at something even if they don’t successfully complete it*

10. *If your child intentionally disturbs you, it is because you are not physically affectionate enough.*

11. *If your child is openly defiant, it is because you openly threaten to do something but don’t follow through.*

12. *If your child is secretive, it is because they don’t trust that you won’t blow things out of proportion.*

13. *If your child talks back to you, it is because they watch you do it to others & think its normal behaviour.*

14. *If your child doesn’t listen to you but listens to others, it is because you are too quick to jump to conclusions*

15. *If your child rebels it is because they know you care more about what others think than what is right*

*Pls fwd this to Parents who care to read this!*
*IT MAY GUIDE OUR MODERN PARENTING!*
*Positive Parenting!*

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Prodigal son? Blood Contract

Ken stood silhouetted against the setting sun. He was alone in the boat as the lagoon took on the color of the red sun, making the waters look almost metallic. He was contemplating paying his father a visit and suddenly he had become unsure. Questions needed to be answered. He could not hold back anymore and the one person who could give him some of the answers was a few meters away. His hands shook as he tried to calm his nerves.
There was a small sardonic smile playing across his lips. It was time to take a look at the wounds, time to come face to face with his ghosts and why he had left. Why he had promised himself he was never coming back. He needed to make peace with his father if not with himself. He remembered the bitter arguments, his sense of not being good enough for his father. He remembered Douglas and he felt some pain that no one had ever made any attempt to reach out to him.

It was a tough place to have dreams. He had wanted to further his education and he knew his father was not going to be able to cope with the payments. He had been grateful for the secondary education he got. He was not about to just sit down in the place, getting married, have babies, and be a fisherman. His whole soul had rebelled against such a future.
It was not therefore too surprising when he followed the boys to do some small oil bunkering. The first time he got paid he was stunned at making such easy money. He had instinctively kept that business from his father. But being a young man he could not resist buying a few things that was more than his income as a fisherman could fetch him.
His father had asked probing questions and he thought he had succeeded in deceiving him until one evening he came home to find his father in his room, a cold implacable look on his face, and his wad of currency in his hand. There was nothing left to do than to confess what he had been doing. He expected anger but not the blistering rage of the old man.

He still felt disbelief at the blazing words, stating that no son of his was going to be a coward and refuse to stand and fight.
“I can’t see much of any fight with you Papa,” he had taunted back. “No money, no food and I try to do business and you call me a thief.”
There had been the silence.
“Bravery has nothing to do with stealing oil from the creeks. A thief is a thief no matter in what clothes you dress it.”
He had yelled back in his own pain, “I have not stolen anything, just taken what belongs to me.”
“Who allocated stealing to you, Kenawari?”
“Papa!”
“Get out; you have a smell I don’t want around here.”
He had yelled back that he was getting out and was never coming back, that he would make good and his father was going to regret calling him a thief. That was when he made contact with Elias and left the village a few days later. Papa never spoke to him from that night. He never went back to the business, for it had served the purpose he wanted. He never called home.

Ken had not seen Ebijor either or connected with her until the night of his return. He had kept her in his mind for years, knowing he needed to explain his abrupt departure. Knowing the culture of his people, he knew she would have been married off after a time. He wondered if she had resisted or simply accepted his apparent desertion and shrugged her shoulders and settled down to married bliss. He had wondered if she understood about love. He could not sleep at nights as he imagined her in someone’s arms and he was racked by jealousy. A dangerous jealousy he knew, for she belonged to another man. Someone the rest of the community would defend if he tried anything funny. He had also not known about Douglas. He had assumed the silence had been in obedience to their father. He needed time to take a look at that piece of information.

Ken had stalked the markets hoping to catch a glimpse of Ebijor, but she seemed to have suddenly voluntarily imprisoned herself. He was not about to ask anyone questions. Tonbra too had become invisible. He understood, believing she was remorseful about her big mouth and was keeping out of his way with respect. He sighed and started walking along the single plank walkway.

Ken walked past his father’s home deliberately and chose to stop at a point two houses away, because he had not being prepared to find his father sitting outside on an easy rocking chair. He was sure his father had seen him. Ken suddenly lost his nerve. He felt lonely too. That is my father, damn it! You don’t just walk back to fifteen years at the drop of a hat do you? You don’t just wipe out fifteen years of longing, pain, anger and confused thoughts do you? The fact that his father had never enquired after him still hurt, he acknowledged to himself.

Interested readers in Nigeria can now buy copies of BLOOD CONTRACT from thefollowing book retailers:
1.Sunshine booksellers
University of Ibadan
2. The Booksellers(Mosuro Books)
Ring road, Ibadan
3.The Kids Centre
Akure Mall, Akure
4.Toyin Bookshop
Akure
5.Arowolo Bookshop
Akure
6,Seyem Bookshop
Akure
We will update youas more book retailers are added on

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Learning Lessons

Hello everyone,
I am sharing my fortieth year as a writer. It was a bit surprising when my husband noted thatthis year makesit the fortieth year of my writing experience.
So I had to ask myself a few questions. what has been my experience. I live in a country where the reading culture had been bastardised.
What have I achieved in all the 40 years? Is it worth celebrating?
Given the country I live in,I have grown a lot, my writing skills has improved. In recognition of that length of time, I changed the look of my website. made a conscious effort to reflect on what has moved me through the years.
I am bit surprised to note that I have always been socially conscious, from my romantic plays, to my detective series as well as so many other stories. I even wrote horror stories which recently changed forms to religious and fantasy.
I have published quite a number of novels, poetry and produced plays.
I am musing today and will share in the weeks to come my stories, rationale and lessons learned.Meanwhile let me share this with you
TREAD SOFTLY

Don’t get lost
In the weft of threads
Don’t swim west
From the heat of sweat
Don’t make mounds
From life’s hounds
Search through the chaff
From the flowing stream
Each clap of thunder
Each sighing hiss
Of the fierce lightning
Evidence of streaming light
Follow the rainbow stream
And friend, you’ll be home.

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Conversations with Mama

The pain didn’t have a location and it was not physical. But it hurt so badly I sighed awake for three straight nights. I was also embarrassed. I remembered mother. Then I prayed weeping silently in remorse. Could I talk with mother now? But then, I still felt pain about the whole episode. Forty three years was a long time to hold pain and Mama had been dead for twenty years of that time. We had not talked for the first fifteen years after mama passed, the pain was too raw all that time. I had simply ignored all the silent promptings that explained it was in my best interest to hold mama in love.

The horror of one day in Time, being brought to face the chasm of lovelessness had forced me to get a firm grip of myself and I made the first tentative approach to talking. I had no idea where mother was now in the beyond, I had not even prepared her seat so she could sit with the ancients. So I had to call her with my thoughts and use my love to search for her through moonlit nights amongst the stars.
mother-and-daughter-668167_1280

It took a while, but finally mother responded one morning while I was in the bathroom. She simply stood in her thoughts watching me critically and then said simply, she had received the messages. I asked Mama how she was faring and gave her a critical look.
Mama looked …well….Mama had shed the toga of a ghost and looked young, in fact younger than how she was before she passed.
“So, you didn’t send me such messages just to wonder at my age do you?” Mama asked
“No, Why didn’t you give me any inkling of what you thought of Alex when I came to tell you about him” I blurted
“I did” Mama said and I could imagine she had raised her eyebrows as she always did when she thought I was asking a stupid question
“Mama, you never said what you thought was wrong with Alex, just asked that I should not get pregnant and said it was okay to agree to marry him and he promptly made me pregnant. Why didn’t you tell me about love Mama? About waiting and preparing for the Mr. Right and not living with a man out of wedlock”
“How could I tell you what I only sensed, your father wasted no time getting another woman when I did not birth a son for him, what did I understand about love too?”
“My daughter is sleeping with her boyfriend now and I don’t know what to tell her, I wish she would wait for him to come and ask for her hand properly, Alex never did for me. Three children later, I left him and live alone now. The moral standard is much lower than when I met Alex Mama and as a parent, I have tried letting my daughter know about decency, but she says she is getting on and must marry quickly or be left on the shelf”
“I see, so you want me to spook your daughter by appearing by her bed and tell her she is committing sin?”
I laughed outright, alone in the bathroom with the misty image of my mother. She still retained her sense of sarcasm and fun.

I wanted to ask her what I am not doing right about parenting, and why all I said to my daughter always sometimes ended in painful arguments and silent days of mutual hurt feelings.
I wanted to be a perfect parent, show out all I had missed why growing up and fill in the gaps.
“In short Olayemisi, you want to live your life all over again through your daughter. Interferring as usual with the threads of fate of your gift”
What?

I was alone in the bathroom and Mama had returned to history and left behind the lessons of love, prayer and patience.
Parents were never created perfect, that is why procreation was allowed, so we learn through each other and with each other.
Talk soon..

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The mouse roared

couple-254684_1920

Are you jealous?
“I was surprised at the question. Jealous of my own daughter? I wondered if I was jealous. A tiny imp of mischief whispered that I probably am. It was a depressing thought and I felt funny. My spirit lifted however when I remembered Dad and I. The severe pain I had felt when he passed and how I resisted any hint that he could have been human after all.”

I sighed as I listened to Tope. We have been friends for more than forty years and so I accepted all she wanted to tell me as a friend. I wondered though if she would be willing to take a few words from me. I had listened to her eldest daughter talk to me one day.

“Aunty, Mum is the male in this house. She never once visited me in school, has never ever looked at my reports from school. There is a loneliness that I will never wish on my child when I have one. Each time I bring my reports home, she simply asks Dad casually if there are any reds in my report then yawns and goes straight to bed. She never waits for Dad to answer” There was bewilderment in her voice, then she continues ”you see she is of the school of thought that parents should not be attached to their children, but she is not attached to me, I think she said having me, spoilt her shape, she keeps telling me that she was a real heartbreaker when she met dad”

Wow, I said to myself as I wondered how to be helpful. The question of jealousy had come out because Tola has a very beautiful figure, clear faced ebony beauty a pride to any parent. She had finished school and was working in the hospital. As a medical doctor, she barely had a social life until she met Tade a fellow doctor. On the very rare outing, her mother had come out and complained about dress, make up and eventually the fact that Tola was throwing herself at a man who was poor did not have a rich genealogy and was…. The complaints were endless. Tola had in anger taunted her mother and asked her mother if her mother was jealous.

You could say the mouse finally roared.
I have said it often on this blog. Let’s take a step back once in a while and put the spotlight on ourselves. We know that we are not always right. My cousin says you can’t keep forever second guessing yourself. There is no such person as a perfect mum or dad. We are humans after all too. So how do we help ourselves to grow?
Tola drew naturally close to her dad, being an only child, Tope became so immersed in her job that she forgot all about the guest she had invited into her life. Children are guests and gifts from the Father Almighty. We are not just expected to feed, clothe and educate them, we have other basic responsibilities too.

What are the priorities we show our children with our activities? I asked my friend if she wanted a rich husband for her daughter and would be willing to shop for one. I asked what made her to be close to her father?
She looked at me in surprise and said her father was the one person she could relate to in a polygamous setting with her mother out of the picture

“Well, you seem to be repeating the same pattern you know, Your father took care of you because your mum was not there physically for you and you never became close because the bond of love was not made. You are not in the picture right now for your daughter, not because your husband has another wife or wives, he loves you but you have made him both mother and father to your only child. When do you want to be in the picture?”
I saw a strange look come into her eyes as realization started to dawn. It was going to be a long road to find a daughter and it was time I left.

What do you think?