She shot out of bed like a bullet responding to the urgent dictate of the trigger, her tiredness forgotten temporarily, but not fast enough. She felt a dizzying pain as the sole of the shoe caught her at the small of her back. Jay lunged at her the second time. She slid off the bed and landed, thud, on the floor. She picked herself off the floor and did a quick calculation. She could dash into the convenience and turn the key before he could circumvent the bed and come after her.
That looked enticing but she might just sleep in the convenience till morning and she had to be in the office early. Moreover, if Jay was in his element, she wouldn’t have a peaceful morning. The second option was to face her demon. Luckily, the vacuum cleaner was beside her, she grabbed the cord and swung it like she was handling a sword, blinded by rage. Jay snarled at her, “You dare not touch me with that. I have told you repeatedly that the real African woman is docile. You learnt absolutely nothing from your mother and fore bears.” Eyes blazing with fury, she said quietly but distinctly, “You try me for size!”
Her back was hurting badly. She feared that she could have a cut. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her inner mind. Her doctor had warned her to mind her blood pressure. She needed to relax her mind often, but how would that be possible when it seemed her hubby was only happy when she wasn’t? Jay made a move towards her and she swung the cord dangerously close to him.
Eyes blazing fire, she resolved that someone would always be unhappy in the house and that someone wouldn’t be her. “Look, I’ve tried my best possible to make this house habitable for you and I. I have gotten to the end of my tether. The only way I can make you happy is to commit suicide and I’m not ready to do that,” she said through gritted teeth.
“So, you want me to commit suicide then? I won’t. Haven’t you read the story of Abraham and Sarah? Sarah called her husband, lord. She served him till the end! But here you are, wanting to be the lord,” he jeered at her. She spat, “I’m sure your phallicminded brain didn’t read it anywhere that Sarah was going to farm with her husband and working her beautiful fingers stiff to help Abraham provide for his family.
Did you read anywhere that they were splitting expenses and she was contributing more money to the upkeep of the house? Did you read it anywhere that she paid school fees while her husband who also worked gave lame excuses? Go back and turn the pages of that much cherished book.
Despite her childless state, Abraham treated her like a queen. He provided her needs and even got her a maid who served and ministered to her needs. What other job did Sarah have than to serve her husband with her body and soul? Why wouldn’t she call a godly man who gave her everything ‘lord’? Why wouldn’t she give him her all?
Have you seen any man or woman who spat out real honey with the claim that it is bitter? You think your show of physical strength or the fact that your whatchamacallit rears its ugly head anytime it sights a feminine mould is what makes a man?”
He made a move towards her again but was put in check by the vicious swing of the vacuum cleaner cord. He calculated the risk of trying to get to her and knocking some sense into her and decided against it…for now.
“Sarah had a maid, did I stop you from getting a maid to minister to your needs so you can minister to my own needs? You sent your maid away and you’re now complaining that you are working too hard.
Look, you’re my wife, I paid your dowry and you must attend to my need, even this night,” he said haughtily. Adele gave a mirthless laugh.
“Sarah gave her maid to her husband. She didn’t have a child. Prophet Jay, I didn’t give my maid to you. I have three grown children for you. I work hard and pay more than 80 per cent of their school fees. I don’t want a maid anymore because I’m tired of your meddling with them! I’m yet to get over the shame of your impregnating my maid. You refused me bringing a male servant to the house, insisting on a maid…”
“Look, I’ve told you that I will not allow a male servant in this house. You want to bring in a man who will start messing around with you in the house. Over my dead body!” Jay shouted.
“The man who kills with the machete does not allow friend or foe to go behind him with a machete. Anyway, I don’t want a maid in this house again,” she told him bluntly, adding, “I’m tired and I want to sleep. I have to get up early and get to work. We have to pay school fees soon. There are so many other expenses to be met. I hope we won’t fight over them. We have enough time to save towards them.”
“I told you I can’t sleep. I need you to put me to sleep,” he whined like a kid. “And I tell you to go put yourself to sleep. I need to sleep,” she said wearily.
That was when they both remembered that they were in their birthday suits.
The argument had shriveled his whatchamacallit. He would let her be…for now. He felt like cold water had been poured on him. He made to leave for the sitting room and she dropped the cord. He turned and took a step forward and she hurriedly picked the cord again.
He turned back to the door and left. She dragged her weary self to the door, bolted it and flopped onto the bed. …. Jay returned to the living room, angry.
He would not allow a mere woman tell him what to do or how to run his home. A man needs a soft touch often and should get it without much ado.
Why would his case be different? He wondered how his friend, Tyrone, got to do it every night. He recalled their conversation earlier in the week at their usual hangout. “I don’t miss my midnight kolanut.
I have it at least four times in a week and cap each with early morning breakfast to crown my morning glory,” Tyrone had said, sipping from a glass of red wine. Jay turned and stared at him.
“You mean you have it four times two times, making it eight times each week?” Jay asked. “Yah…that’s the least. Sometimes, I have it more than eight times. She puts me to sleep with it,” Tyrone said.
“She? Who…where?” Jay asked. “My wife, at home of course,” Tyrone had replied, adding, “She’s a tigress behind closed door.”
Since they had that conversation, Jay had known no peace. He was worried that a man was so lucky. It was midnight. He tried going back to the room and couldn’t. She had locked it from within.
Anger surged through him. He knocked, shook the door. If Adele heard him, he didn’t know because she didn’t open the door. He went to his private room, the master’s, locked himself in and tried chatting up some friends before knocking off.
….. Adele felt like a wreck the next morning in the office. It was a wonder how she was able to handle the meetings she had to coordinate.
Her boss kept her on her toes all morning with phone calls.
By noon, she’d gotten her groove back and was her usual cheerful self. She couldn’t go for lunch but made sure she stood up and walked round the office at intervals for health reasons.
Since she learnt of the sitting disease, she had made it a point of duty to lift her beautiful ass off her seat and exercise her limbs a number of times each day.
During one of her times off her seat, she put a call across to her bosom friend, Blossom, and poured out her heart to her. “Babe, I’ve told you that at the rate you’re going, you’ll drop dead one day. Jay will get one beautiful, young girl as wife and life continues.
You work too hard and should get some rest at home. If you’re not getting the peace you deserve at home, you do something about it. A woman of your standing shouldn’t allow herself to be pushed around!
I’ve told you what to do. Let me know when you are ready to help yourself,” Blossom told her.
They talked about inanities for a few more minutes and hung up. About an hour later, Adele chatted Blossom up on BBM. “Babe, I’ve given your advice some deep thought.
I think I’m ready for it. I can’t continue like this. I need to get wiser and now is the time,” she sent and waited for her response.
About 20 minutes later, Blossom’s response came: “Babe, I’m happy you have seen the light. Let’s talk after close of work today.” “I’m waiting,” Adele responded.
What light has Adele seen?
Let’s find out here on Sunday
Send your observations to: julietbumah@ gmail.com
Vagina wigs are newest fashion trend
Another day, another fashion trend that will make you question everything
If some of the finer points of New York Fashion Week have passed you by, don’t fret, we’ll fill you in.
There were floral prints, bizarre hair accessories and…vagina wigs.
Also known as a merkin, vagina wigs date back to the 1600s, when ladies of the night would wear them after shaving their hair off for health reasons.
The, er, brains behind this merkin renaissance is South Korean designer Kaimin.
Kaimin showcased a broad range of wigs, which are available in various colours, lengths and styles, so there’s something for everyone.
Describing the designs, Kaimin’s press release explained the merkins were created “to assist irregular silhouettes” and “to bridge the gap of hard versus soft.”
“Because the Kaimin collection has a huge central theme of pride in your body and your sexuality – although they are not mutually exclusive – we had a lot of freedom here,” creative director of Prema Hair, Dale Delaporte tells whimn.com.au.
“We really wanted to push the futuristic punk aesthetic of this season’s collection and having matching hair and merkins was perfect.
“We worked hard on figuring out the best way to get them made and to have them looking as natural as possible and the results speak for themselves!”
They certainly do.
Is your partner micro-cheating? Let’s face it, whose isn’t?
So your partner shows a fleeting interest in other men or women? Congratulations… you’ve probably picked well
Are you guilty of “micro-cheating”? I’d forgive you for having no clue, because I’ve now read about two dozen articles on this latest pop-psychology buzzphrase, which went viral last month, and I’m more confused than when I started. It refers, as far as I can tell, to seemingly innocuous behaviours that actually count as infidelity. But the examples given by dating experts range from wishing someone happy birthday on Facebook, which plainly isn’t a problem, to taking off your wedding ring before chatting someone up in a bar, which plainly is. (Does your partner talk about their ex too much? That’s micro-cheating. But what’s “too much”? No one will say.) Confusing matters further, micro-cheating apparently also includes things that are obviously signs that your partner is having an affair of the conventional variety. If he spends ages staring goggle-eyed at pictures of another woman on his phone, while you look grumpy on the other side of the bed, there are only two possibilities: either you’re posing for stock photos for magazine articles on relationship problems, or you’ve got a relationship problem.
Micro-cheating is an unhelpful idea, as the psychologist Justin Lehmiller noted on The Cut website, because it implies that feeling the tiniest attraction to anyone else is a red flag – a notion so at odds with normal human functioning that it sets a standard no relationship could ever meet. Beyond that, like the idea of the “emotional affair” before it, it seems destined to worry or reassure precisely the wrong people. If you’re needy and insecure, you’ll suspect your partner is micro-cheating when they aren’t – possibly even driving them away, creating the very breach you feared. Conversely, if you’re trying to avoid confronting the truth that your relationship is in trouble, you’ll take false comfort if your partner’s actions happen not to tick any boxes on the micro-cheating list.
The fundamental point is that what constitutes a “relationship problem”, surely, is defined entirely by the expectations of the people in it. So if you’re genuinely fine with your other half sleeping around, you don’t have a problem (although you should be alert to the risk that you’re deceiving yourself). Meanwhile, if you’re horrified by their wishing people happy birthday on Facebook, you do have a problem (though it’s probably one rooted in your anxiety). What some dating expert thinks is at best irrelevant and at worst hugely misleading.
One of the great insights of psychoanalysis is that relationships are never just a matter of whether two personalities match. We project our fantasies on to the other, then react with shock when it turns out they’re a real, flawed person – then, often as not, we leave to project the fantasy on to someone else. The problem with real-world relationships is that the truly good ones have bad parts and the truly bad ones have good parts. Deep down, you probably know which yours is. That’s not to say certain kinds of experts – therapists, mainly – can’t help you see what you already subconsciously know. But it’s a good bet that, without the aid of made-up concepts like “micro-cheating”, you do know.
Culled fromThe Guardian, Uk
Bossladies Nest 40: Valentine’s Day shivers
Jay had one of his worst nights in months. He had sat in the living room till very late and was going to his bedroom when he heard a sound emanating from Adele’s room. He stopped and listened. She was moaning from pleasure. He knew that sound. He had heard it numerous times. His wife was pleasuring herself again! This night, he wasn’t angry for he had realised that he caused it. For more than ten years, he had neglected his wife and family totally. He had kept mistress after mistress. Of late, he wasn’t discreet about it. He didn’t care if his wife caught him or not…and she did catch him a number of times. He dragged himself to his room. Sleep eluded him. He tossed and turned. Then, Debola crept into his mind. Where could she have gone? Or, could it be that she committed a crime and had gone into hiding? Why would the police be looking for him if she disappeared? He had confided in his friend, Tyrone, who told him to go to the police station and find out what happened.
That was the bit he didn’t find palatable. He had called Tyrone again and asked if they could go together.
“My guy, officially, I’m outta town. I travelled for business, but unofficially, I’m in town, cooped up somewhere with the lady of my dream. You need to see her. She’s beauty personified,” Tyrone had told him
Hmmmmmmmmmm! If only Tyrone knew what infidelity had caused him!
Anyway, they would meet at the police station at noon. Still, he was worried. Debola was missing. Who would have linked him to her? Who would have mentioned him to the police? Could Debola have been talking about him to people? Could Debola be missing truly? He knew that she could do anything, including feigning her kidnap just to lay her hands on good money. He felt very uncomfortable.
All he wanna do now was seek his wife’s face. He had been dealing so treacherously with her. He had to retrace his footsteps and return to the family he had neglected for years.
Adele got out of bed sunny side up. Last night went down well with Bolan. She capped it all with a solo gig with her adult toys in her room. She really went wild with herself and screamed in ecstasy as she worked herself into orgasmic state. Let Jay walk up the wall for all she cared, she thought, as she lay spent on her bed. Enough is enough! How could she be mourning when she lost no one? She shook her head in wonderment.
She didn’t believe she could be so happy. Only her children gave her such joy and put her in such positive mode.
This morning, she felt as fit as a fiddle. As she took her morning bath, she sang and wiggled her waist. It felt so good to be free of worries.
Today, she would go shopping. She hadn’t shopped in a while. She needed to update her wardrobe. She had handed down many of her dated wears to her young cousins. It was her annual end of the year ritual. She would pick up a few fashionable items in the shops and then come back home and laze around.
After her bath, she went to the kitchen and rustled up breakfast for Jay. No matter how bad he was to her, she wouldn’t allow him to turn her into an ogre. Her freezer was upside down. Things weren’t the way she left them. She cursed under her breath and shook her head.
She still found it hard to fathom why Jay brought in his mistress into their home and locked her out of the house.
She also wondered why the police came looking for Jay.
The security man had told her everything that happened – how Jay came back home with a lady, how the lady forced him (security man) to proceed on an unscheduled off duty.
The bit about the police coming to her house to look for Jay’s mistress riled her. Why would the police come to her house to look for her husband‘s mistress? Had she started giving people Jay’s address as her own? Anyway, she would get to the root of it all…but not just now. And the impostor had the guts to enter her kitchen and reorder things! Well Jay caused it all.
Despite her anger, she still made Jay a tantalising English breakfast. No one would accuse her of shirking her duties.
“What are you cooking dear?” Jay asked, walking into the kitchen.
Adele stiffened. Was that meant for her?
“Good morning, my wife. How was your night?” He asked again.
“Good morning,” Adele said without enthusiasm.
“How was your night,” he asked.
“It was very good,” she said jovially.
Jay swallowed hard. Of course, her night was good, that he knew.
“Er…em…er…we need to talk,” he stuttered.
“I’m going out now. We’ll talk when I’m back,” she said.
“Why didn’t you go to the office today?” He asked.
“I’ll still go,” she lied.
“Okay. It’s important we talk,” he said.
“We’ll make out time for that. How’s your health? You need to take lots of water,” she said.
“I’m much better. Yeah, I’m taking lots of water,” he said, swallowing hard.
He stood and watched her dish out his food and hurry out of the kitchen. He didn’t know what to do. He followed her to the dinner table and sat down as she set the food and left.
It wasn’t going to be easy for him to win back her respect, he knew that and was ready to wait.
Adele dumped the Jeans she wanted to wear and picked a not too casual gown. She had lied that she was going to the office. She had to wear something close to office wear.
Less than half an hour later, she was ready to leave the house.
“You look good, my dear wife,” Jay said as Adele moved into the sitting room.
A surprised Adele looked towards the dinning table where he was.
“Thank you very much,” she said, walking towards the door.
“Come back home early dear. I’m waiting for you,” Jay said.
Adele didn’t respond. She opened the door and walked out to the garage. She just didn’t understand the game Jay was playing. When was the last time he spoke to her like a human being? She couldn’t remember!
As she turned on the ignition of her SUV, her phone beeped. It was Bolan. She smiled and answered the call.
“My woman! Beautiful morning my darling,” he said.
Adele’s heart melted.
“Good morning my dear. How was your night?” she said.
“I had a very restful night my love. It was filled with thoughts of you. Where are you?” He asked.
“Just leaving home. I told you I’m going shopping this morning,” she said.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling. I told you I want to go shopping with you. Secondly, I want to ask you to be with me on Wednesday,” he said.
“On Wednesday? What’s happening on Wednesday?” she asked.
“Can I see you now? I’ll tell you what’s happening on Wednesday,” he said.
“Hmmmmmmmm ok, meet me at the mall. Will be there in less than an hour,” she said and ended the call.
She engaged the gear almost immediately and drove towards the gate. She had to move because she saw her front door open. As she was driving out of the gate, she saw Jay step on the porch.
As she drove into the mall less than an hour later, her phone beeped. It was Blossom.
“Babe, it’s been a while. How have you been?” Blossom said in her usual zesty manner.
She ignored the call. She wasn’t in the mood to talk now.
Bolan, ever punctual, was waiting for her at the mall.
The mall was crawling with shoppers. Bolan and Adele kept to the exclusive shops in the mall. That way, they avoided the crowd as much as they could.
Bolan didn’t allow her to pay for a single item she picked. It was strange to her for she was used to paying her bills.
“My woman, they’re my pre Valentine’s Day gift to you,” he told her as she kicked.
Oh Valentine’s Day! Adele couldn’t remember the last time she was happy on Valentine’s day.
As they left the last shop with bags of buys, Bolan smiled.
“What’s amusing you,” she asked him.
“Let’s go for lunch,” he said with twinkles in his eyes.
“Talk to me dear,” she told him.
He smiled broadly and said, “My office is a few minutes drive from here. ”
“You don’t mean it!” she exclaimed.
She had really not been interested in where he lived or worked.
“Just drive behind me and lemme show you my office. Then we’ll go for lunch afterwards,” he said.
Adele agreed. She had already told her hubby that she was going to the office. It meant she wasn’t expected home early and she also didn’t want to get home too early and be with him. He seemed to be in a talkative mood and she didn’t feel up to it. Time was when she always wanted to talk with him the way husbands and wives do. Not any more. They’ve grown so apart. She was used to him locking himself up in his room while she did same.
Bolan’s office was exquisitely furnished. It sat atop a massive four storey building in an upscale part of town.
Adele had a taste of what was to come when Bolan drove through a reserved gate and said something to the smartly clad security man who looked towards her. She guessed Bolan told the guy to allow her in. It was a private car park.
They took a private lift to the penthouse. A gorgeously dressed beautiful lady was at the office leading to a expansive, aristocratic office which Bolan took her into.
“You’re welcome to my office, my woman. Feel free dear,” he said immediately the oak door closed behind them.
Then, he drew her into his arms and cuddled her. She felt like she was being sucked into his being. He then led her to a stuffed leather chair.
Adele was shaken. She couldn’t explain what just happened to her. They stared at each other. Bolan tried to get himself together. The intensity of passion that passed through them a moment ago scared him.
He cleared this throat…
Debola could hear them arguing outside. Whatever they were saying had to do with her. She was alone in the room for the whimpering man had been taken outside.
“This is bad business. When Baba finished fortifying me, he told me that only one thing would make me vulnerable. My mother’s name is Ruth. He told me never to go near a Ruth. Also, blood from a woman’s monthly circle is bad omen for me. The cargo in there is a Ruth and I saw something like blood between her thighs,” a voice quavered.
“Haaaaaaaaaaa! Bad luck. And I’ve told chief it’s a done deal o. What do we do now? We just have to waste this cargo and hunt for another one ASAP,” another voice said.
“Just let me think,” the first voice said.
Inside the room, Debola, still lying on the floor, trembled…
Let’s continue this journey on Sunday!
Send your observations to: email@example.com
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