We Are One

• 
  

Did I tell you that we are one?
Not Black, not White, just human
We see the beauty of nature
We feel the flicker of hope
The joys of family
The passion of love

Again I tell you that we are one
Not rich, not poor, just people 
We feel the dread of disease
The piercing of pain
The frustration of helplessness
The clutch of desperation 

Do you agree that we are one?
Not Christians, not Muslims, just believers
Whether we believe in Jesus,
or we believe in Mohammad,
or we believe in evolution,
or we believe in our gods

You need to know that we are one
Not man, not woman, just  survivors
Striving to succeed
Seeking utopia
Wanting to be seen, to be heard
Counting the days, months, and years

Let me show you that we are one
Not sinners, not saints, just mortals
Wanting to be right
Wanting to do right
Pushing our agendas
And wondering if we are right

So let's focus on our oneness
Setting aside these artificial divides
When it's all said and done
It's always a story of birth and death

LOVE OR SOMETHING LIKE IT

 A friend of once asked me a question, Why is love so hard?

Today you see people who are head over heels in love, and two years down the line its all gone down the drain.

Here is my answer

It depends on what people refer to as love. For instance, I have loved my best friend for eighteen years, and in all these years, we have never had a fight where we did not speak to each.

I believe that when you say you love a person, that person becomes an extension of yourself. Who would willingly or knowingly do something to hurt themselves?

Let me give an example of what I mean. When someone has a favourite clothing item or a pet, it becomes apparent to the whole world that the person cherishes that particular item, because of the attention or preferential treatment that it gets when placed against others of its kind.

Now, someone would be quick to point out that a shirt or a pet is not capable of provoking one to anger the way an individual is capable of doing. To that I will say, no one expects you not to get angry and express yourself, but in expressing your anger, you do have to realize that this is someone you profess to love; armed with that knowledge, you can do no wrong.

Genuine love, in my opinion, is not abusive in any way (physical, verbal, or emotional). On the contrary, it seeks to affirm, encourage, and correct.

It is that simple! Most times we find ourselves saying love is not black and white, the truth is, it is! We are the ones who add the grey lines or encourage the grey lines. It is easy to differentiate between genuine love and imitation. We are just quick to accept imitations because we think the kind of love we know in our hearts that we deserve is too good to be true “an unattainable fantasy”.

It is necessary to understand what love is. If you do not know what something is, there is no way you can use or apply it correctly.

Love is a gift. It means that like any other gift, it should be given freely, not necessarily expecting in return, but as long as it is appreciated that should be enough. The truth is, only a few people are in relationships where love is reciprocal. It is a rarity to find two people who are in love with each other at the same time.

When you love someone without expectations, that kind of love can elicit loyalty and commitment on the part of the recipient or person who is loved, this in truth is what is attainable everywhere, and is often mistaken for the real deal.

And to the belief that a lot of people have that unrequited love can be very frustrating, I say it is not unrequited love that is the problem, but unmet expectations.

These are my thoughts on love, but then what do I know?

TWISTED

The meeting

I sat on the floor, in a corner of the room, naked in a pool of blood shivering, and sobbing those heart wrenching sobs that although inaudible almost threaten to take the sheer essence of your life. The only man I have ever loved, the only one that had ever truly loved me lay dead a few feet away from me a kitchen knife pierced to his side.

Anita still couldn't believe what had happened. Her Tunde was lying dead on the floor, it wasn't up to an hour ago that he told her he loved her, and that was the first time he had said it over their two year relationship. Her mind was still trying to process the information that this magnificent male specimen all 6 ft 5" of him was in love with her, and had just popped the question she had wished to hear from the first day she met him.

The day I met him, it was at the airport on my way from Port Harcourt to Abuja. I was sitting at the waiting lounge, my flight had been delayed for four hours, I was sitting down there angry and hungry with a book in my hand, but I could barely get past the first page. I closed my eyes and opened them at intervals impatiently awaiting the announcement of my flight. During one of the many intervals when I opened my eyes, I was looking directly at this Adonis. He was trying to get through security at the entrance of the waiting lounge. I stared at him from that moment till he got through the door, took a seat opposite me and concentrated on a newspaper. I stared at him until my flight was announced thirty minutes later. I was so sorry to leave.

 Anita couldn't stop thinking about him all through the fifty minutes flight. He wore a brown blazer casually thrown over a white shirt, tucked into blue jeans and held together with a brown belt; he finished off the look with a pair of lovely brown loafers. She loved a man who knew how to dress his body, and there was no doubt this one sure knew how. She could picture them together, no, scratch that! She’d pictured them together in every single position from the moment she saw him at the door, she saw them at the cinema, having lunch, and sharing bodily fluid. It was love at first sight. Love, that word again.

I was in love with the handsome stranger, and that gave me the creeps, the last time I was in love with someone we both ended up at the hospital, he in intensive care and me for psychoanalysis.

****

Anita had been seeing Peter for a while; he was kind, supportive and understanding. He was the kind of man every woman wished for, reliable. He was always there whenever she needed him, he told her he loved her, and she believed him. Everything he did was proof of his love.

He understood me from the first moment we met; he knew I had deep trust issues. I would snoop through his phone, e-mail, Facebook inbox messages; I would even stalk him on twitter. Everything usually checks out, there was never anything out of place. The first time he caught me going through his text messages, he was so angry that I had invaded his privacy; however, from then on, I had free rein on his ‘privacy’. I would ask questions that could only be as a result of snooping, and he would laugh, and say, 

“Snooping again, are we?”

It used to make her laugh when Peter called her “Sherlock Holmes”, he would tease her about wasting her detective skills on him, and she usually responded by saying, ‘Fortunately for me, you are as clean as a whistle’. So, it came to Anita as an utter shock one beautiful Saturday morning when Peter walked in looking as though someone had just died. He sat on her couch, she immediately rushed to his side, wondering what could be wrong.

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course baby, I know you love me’

What was wrong, where was he going with this. When he finally spoke up, I was shocked, to say the least. He told me he was getting married in two weeks, I believe he said some other things after that, which might have been an explanation or maybe not, the truth was all I heard was his getting married in two weeks.

Anita could still feel the goosebumps on her skin from Peter’s betrayal, how do you tell someone you love them and that you were getting married to someone else all in one breath? The events of the weeks that followed were still a blur in her mind. 

 They told me that I ran him over with my car the week before his wedding. I was taken into police custody for a few weeks when the police couldn't get any word out of me, I was taken to a specialist hospital for psychiatric evaluation.

****

Fifty minutes later, her flight had arrived Abuja and she was waiting for her luggage at the baggage claim area. The arrival of another plane was announced; she decided to pay attention to the entrance just in case “Idris Elba” was on that flight. 

He strode through the entrance as though he owned the entire airport, there was something about him, an aura of entitlement, it wasn't quite arrogance, but it was a confidence that almost seemed as if it was overstepping its boundaries. I realized that I could actually stare at him all day without getting tired.

Her luggage arrived but instead of leaving she decided she couldn't wait for fate to bring them together, she had to do something. She took a few short steps into the arrival lounge, took a seat and waited patiently.

For the third time that day, I watched him walking into a room, I took a quick glance at myself. I had on a dark blue tiny outfit that was a cross between a blouse and a dress; usually, because it was too long to be called a top and too short to be a proper dress. My tiny braids were held in a bun on top of my head. I was wearing very little jewellery; tiny studded earrings, a dress chain with a round pendant, it had a butterfly on one side, and the words “Quantum Science, hope for the children” on the other side. , the only make-up I had on my face was lip-gloss, my beautiful full legs were on display for all to see my feet were covered in sequined silver-coloured ballet flats. I am beautiful there was no doubt about it, I have been told severally that my smile could light up a room, I thought to myself that it wouldn't be a bad idea to test just how true that statement was.   

‘Excuse me, do you have a car waiting for you?’ he turned at the sound of my voice,

‘Erm, not really… you?’ that was said as an afterthought, he probably didn't want to seem rude by ending the conversation abruptly.

Anita responded that she also didn't have a car waiting for her; they decided to share a ride into town, as it happened they were both staying at Wuse II. They sat quietly throughout the drive, just as he was about to alight in front of a two-storey building on Aminu Kano crescent, he stretched out his hands for a handshake,

‘The name is Tunde Ayoola, sorry I wasn't such a good company, I have a lot on my mind. May I have your mobile no?’

‘Anita Esaro, and you weren't a bad company, I loved the silence.’ They exchanged numbers; by the time the cab got to her street, there was a satisfied smirk on her face.

Why Do Women Cheat?: One Woman's Story

“The theory that adultery is "natural" for men, fulfilling their Darwinian need to spread their seed, has been around a long time” –Women Health, Web MD.

Why men cheat is no longer news I think most people have come to the conclusion that men cheat as a sport, and society is trying to in one way or another shove it down our throats that if it’s a man then it’s not quite as awful, and that’s why they come up with useless sayings that almost seem like a pat on the back “he is a man now”, “men will always be men”, “come on darling, that shouldn't surprise you that’s what men do they cheat!”

On my blog rounds yesterday I visited www.thenakedconvos.com and the topic of discussion was "The General & The Mistress: why do women cheat?” I settled in to enjoy myself, but before doing that I told a couple of my friends who are also lovers of TNC that we were in for a treat because TNC is known for its no holds barred approach, moreover, it should be intriguing to get an insight on why women cheat.

If you know anything about blogs the "comment" session is almost as informed as the post itself; there you get diverse views and sometimes a fictitious post develops a real human face, for this particular post, the comments ranged from the lack of attention and care to revenge, to fun etc. I was still going through the comments when I got a ping from one of the friends’ I had directed to the day's post, she told she had dropped her confession in the comment section, she gave the name she used for the comment, and I was amazed at her story.

“If I say he cheated on me with a neighbor will dat suffice? ud probably say no cos I cried n forgave him and accepted it like it was part of my six years 2 months old marriage. did they know each other b4? Cos we moved in here 3 months b4 d marriage.yet their union was stronger Dan China's economy! so I'll let dat pass to d fact dat he came back late and beat me if I ever complained. d fact dat I was pregnant didn't matter afterall "I wasn't carrying Jesus! den he was Transferred 2 a state 3hrs away! He gladly left me n my 1 year old daughter.N visited once a month which later became once in 3 months.we made luv @ most 4 times a year.did I mention I married @ 19?so at 21 I was almost getting Non! I made efforts n I wondered cos I was endowed n good in bed!living like dis 4 over six years? naa, By the 3rd year I cracked n started getting some .afterall ppl wanted me everywhere I went!after 2 attempts I settled for an angel! the best n most handsome caring man in d whole world. I now know wat love is .dis year I moved in with my hubby who was now envious of d fact dat I don't have his time anymore.I did dat 4 my daughter buh it still isn't working BW us d fighting n quarreling.so I have made up my mind 2 get a divorce.hez 20yrs older Dan me n he can sort himself out cos he prefers his age grade!there u have it!”

After reading this, I immediately sent her a ping, all I could say was “ babe you are a strong woman”, that was the first thing my mind could come up with, the next thing I asked was if I could share her story and she said, “yes if you need more details I will tell you” then she went ahead to tell me of a time when he brought his girlfriend to the house, and after an incident asked her to apologize to the girlfriend and after she had apologized his girlfriend’s friend responded “you are lucky I am in a good mood I would have beat you up”. I usually do not curse, but my only response was “What the F***”.

I realize that most women are “saints” that would never dream, think or talk of cheating their partners. But there are a few that do cheat and may have a compelling reason for doing so, please let us share these experiences.

If you have any advice that will help my friend, do not hesitate to use the comment box.