Tit for Tat

“Auntie can you imagine what the Pastor said to us at the marriage counselling session today?” Foluso asked as she started cooking dinner.

 “No” I answered. I leaned on the door watching her chopping pepper, onion and tomato with expertise of a fine cook. Foluso loved to cook and you can’t take it away from her, she did it very well. I watched her silently waiting for her to continue her story. She washed her hands in the sink and turned to look at me.

“The Pastor told us of a woman whose husband was a philander. He was never at home but spent most of his free time chasing after young girls.” She narrated. Foluso and Alex, her fiancé were preparing for marriage so they go for marriage counselling every week. She would come back from these sessions telling me about what the counsellor for that week told them. Most times, she found the sessions amusing believing that most of what they were told were archaic and cannot stand modern day situations.

 “The fact of his activities was not hidden from the wife.” She said as she continued with her narration. “But she never challenged her husband but prayed to God that He should change her husband. The more she prayed, the worst the husband became. According to our Pastor, one day the husband came home with his girlfriend and told his wife that they were going to have a threesome.”

“What?” I exclaimed.

“Yes o.” She answered.

“So what did she do?” I asked.

“She did not argue with her husband but asked the woman if she wanted to shower and showed her the bathroom.” Foluso said

“Really,” I said in disbelieve.

“She also offered the lady a nightie and  asked if the girlfriend wanted anything to eat.” She said laughing.

“So what happened?” I asked in anticipation of a dramatic reaction from the wife.

 “The girlfriend finished taking her bath and came to the sitting room where the couple waited for her. The man jumped up excited and told his wife to proceed to the room.” She continued.

 “And?” I asked.

“The girlfriend carried her bag and told the man that he was a wicked man who had no respect for his wife. She left despite the fact that the wife warned her that it was too late. She also offered the use of the guest room for the night.”

“Interesting” I said finding it difficult to believe that any woman will be that calm in the face of outright disrespect. I was dumbfounded listening to Foluso.

“So what now happened between the man and his wife?” I asked.

“Ha! According to pastor o, hmmm, the man for the first time in years then realised how beautiful his wife is after the girlfriend had insulted him. He apologised to her and became a good husband thereafter. She said cynically.

“Please!” I laughed sarcastically. “How convenient for the foolish husband to change at this point.”

“Well, the real gist is that Pastor now asked me in the presence of Alex what I would do?”

“What was your response?” I asked curious.

“I told Pastor that I will simply invite my own boyfriend for a threesome too.” She replied.

“Ah! I shouted. How can you say that?” I asked chiding her.

“Auntie, my motto is tit-for-tat. Whatever the devil that will make my husband have the effrontery to bring his girlfriend home, ha! He should be prepared that I will definitely get back.” Foluso said vehemently.

“But Foluso, no marriage can survive on that principle.” I advised.

“Ha! Men too should learn to respect their wives, and most especially the sanctity of marriage. If he is not willing to make the marriage work, why should I? Auntie, it takes two to tango. If it fails, we both failed.” She said fervently.

“I agree that the sanctity of marriage should be respected and honoured. But you know there is no tit-for-tat in marriage that is if you don’t want a broken marriage.

“Auntie Please o!” She said forcefully.

“Anyway, what did the pastor say after you said this? I asked still shocked at her response.

“He looked at me in disbelief and shook his head.” Foluso laughed.

“Alex?” I asked.

“He knows me. He knows that I don’t take nonsense.”  She smiled knowingly.

I looked at her in amazement as she went back to her cooking. I truly wondered what the future holds in stock for her and Alex.

Putting the Record Straight on the Death of Olaiya Fagbamigbe

We, the children of late Olaiya Fagbamigbe are writing this article in response to the centre page news story of the Sunday Sun Newspaper of June 1, 2014 titled “How 1983 Ondo Guber Poll Fraud Sparked People’s Revolt” written by Tunde Raheem.

We have reframed from saying anything for decades about the gruesome murder of our dear father, on August 16, 1983, a week before his 55th birthday, not because we don’t have facts that led to his murder but because we believe that it would not bring him back neither would it replace all the things we lost. The one million dollar question is, who will judge – are they not the same people who killed him? However, we now believe that since the likes of Mr. Tunde Raheem would not let sleeping dog lie, it’s now imperative for us to respond. We are fed up with the constant lies.

The interesting thing is that every attempt to soil his name simply tells the world that Olaiya Fagbamigbe, our father, was and is still an important figure, a force that cannot be ignored in politics, who almost 31 years after his death, is still strongly talked about. People die and are forgotten. Some die and people around them joyfully announce their departure. But to the glory of God, our father whose life was maliciously and gruesomely terminated in 1983 is still such an important point of reference in the history of politics. If not so, why the lies? Why the need for cover up?

Our father was a renowned member of the UPN. Our father defected from UPN not out of greed or selfish interest as it’s often subtly portrayed but because he was a man of peace and integrity and it was difficult for him to work with people who lacked those qualities. According to Mr Tunde Raheem, in his article, the 1983 riot was spontaneous but this is untrue as the gruesome murder of our father and others affected was a well-orchestrated plan by those who wanted our father dead. For example, months before the primaries, our father was shot by gunmen in the hip area while visiting a relative. There were three people in the car. The man mistaken for our daddy: uncle Ire, was shot in the head. Thank God he is still alive today.  

When these victims arrived at the General Hospital Akure, they were turned back because of a prior instruction not to treat people with gunshot wounds. A few days before the primaries, a prominent member of the UPN was arrested for producing fake UPN cards (one of us saw this party member arrested). These incidents were reported to the leadership of the party and no action was taken. After all these atrocities, our father and quite a lot of prominent UPN members in Ondo, Oyo , Lagos and Ogun states walked out of a UPN National meeting and never looked back. If other things were involved, well Olaiya Fagbamigbe is not here to talk about it but those still alive who knows the story especially those involved might decided to come out with the TRUTH. But we have stated it here as it is known to us.

 Also, on the night of August 13th, 1983, the night of the gubernitorial election, an attempt was made three times before daybreak to burn our house at 11 Methodist Church Road, Gbogi, Akure.

 A distant relative who heard about the plan, brought thugs to our house to protect us. Our father argued against allowing the thugs to guard the family but after so much argument, he allowed a handful of them whom he sent parking first thing the following morning. Our entire family would have been burnt to death in our sleep that night. This is the only time any of us ever saw thugs in our house. This attempt was not made by dissatisfied members of the public since they had voted that day and the result had not been announced.  Was this spontaneous?

Months before the August 16 1983 incident, a campaign of condolence to the people of Akure was launched by Chief Obafemi Awolowo. He would say e ku isehinde Olaiya  Fagbamigbe etc. This was aired on Ondo State Television. The State Radio and Television stations were instruments of campaign by the Ajasin administration.

When a hit list was shown to our father by concerned Akure indigens, he reported at the police station and a one-man-police-protection was given to us. He also wrote an article in the newspaper stating that his life was in danger.

On the morning of 16th August, 1983, visitors including our uncle Pa Oni Fagbamigbe and his friend visited our home very early in the morning as usual. We were at the balcony when we noticed an unusual crowd at the junction of the street and before one could say Jack Robinson, mob of people appeared from all angles matching towards our house. Our father instructed one of us to call the police but when eventually one of the officers answered the phone, he said ‘we don’t have a vehicle now if you make your way to the police station, we will protect you.’ This, he repeated to our father.   Our father dropped the phone and expressed grief saying that he had been betrayed. If it was a spontaneous reaction, how come police men were not detailed to our house after the call?

While we were still considering our options, a neighbour frantically told us that our house had been set ablaze from precisely our father’s room. Our father instructed us to run for our dear lives.   We begged him to come with us but he would not burg because he wouldn’t want the death of his brother, the visitors and supporters who lived on the street on his conscience. He wanted to be sure that they all escaped to safety.

We ran until we got to the front of an old man’s house not too far from our house. One of the tenants took us in but before we could settle, the thugs came after us, threatened to burn the man’s house down if he didn’t produce us.  We managed to escape to the bush because our mother was caught. It was while we were in the bush that we heard the gruesome details of how our father was killed. Was this as a result of a spontaneous reaction? We were not politicians but students at that time so why the attempt on our lives?  Interestingly, while in the bush, we heard that they were instructed to wipe out the whole family especially the first born by a man who complained bitterly about how oga will not be happy that we were not killed.  Was this spontaneous Mr. Raheem?

Our mother was beaten, forced to drink petrol and was about to be burnt alive when in a miraculous way, God saved her. She is alive with a sound mind to describe those who wanted to kill her. These people had tribal marks. Akure people don’t wear tribal marks. So where did these people come from? Our mother was not a politician but a teacher and her only crime was to have married a politician so why the attempt on her life?

If Mr Tunde Rahmeen had wanted to write a comprehensive report, he could have done his research and read our mother’s account in the interview she granted Hope newspaper which was published on Wednesday, September 25, 2013 or better still, interview our mother who had been living in Akure since 2004.  The reporter claimed he interviewed one Pa Ola Falodun who gave him an account of what transpired on the morning of August 16, 1983.  This Pa Falodun could not have lived at Methodist Church Road in 1983 or up on till 5years ago when we pulled down the burnt and dilapidated house (not 2013 as reported by Mr Rahmeen).

The house adjacent to our house was owned by Mr Okoro. Beside us to the left is a Jehovah Witness Kingdom hall. To the right, was a house owned by Iya Ondo, to our opposite was the house owned by Baba and Iya Ojo and adjacent was the Okoros. There was no Pa Falodun living close to us at that time as claimed by Mr. Raheem. Neither did this Pa Falodun’s photograph in the Sunday Sun newspaper bear resemblance to anyone living on Methodist Church Road at the time.  Also, the piece of land published in the newspaper is not our property in Gbogi. 

We are proud of our father and his achievements.  He was probably burnt alive as we do not have a definite account of how he was killed but one thing is sure, the memory lives on. History may have been re-written in Ondo State and those who have re-written it may be finding ways of convincing the entire world of their lies, but for us, it doesn’t matter. The enemies of Akure and Ondo State dead or alive might be celebrated today as the elder statesmen, it doesn’t matter.  We knew our father. Those who knew him and have not compromised or have not been intimidated would speak the truth given the opportunity.

Some people are bigger than death, they never die. Our father might be dead but his memory lives on.   

Olaiya Fagbamigbe’s Children  

The Gang Rape of a Nation

She has been stripped
Humiliated and beaten
All she possesses has been forcibly taken
Violated and shamed
How could this happen?
Those who know better have turned their faces away 

Or worse have joined in the madness

The gang rape of a  nation.

It started from the time she was born

She stood no chance

Wave after wave after wave
The onslaught has been relentless
Each generation proclaiming themselves her saviour  

But each time each it has always been a failure

Her so called rescuers 

Having seen her beauty    

Allow the allure of her splendor and richness to seize them 

With that madness the onslaught begins again.

The striping of her body and soul 

The gang rape of a nation

 

When she was born her people were filled with joy 

They all marveled at how regal and majestic she was. 

A sight to behold, they were proud and ecstatic 
But now this same beauty is seen as a curse 

For no matter the intent of her rescuer 

This soon changes and savagery takes over

She cries out but no-one seems to care

Young and old alike in their pursuit of her

Take leave of their senses and brutalise her

The gang rape of a nation.

 

There she is broken and bent

Her mother looking on powerless
As she struggles helpless
From the birth of the nation till now
The gang rape has never abated
When is this madness going to end?
Mothers where are you? Have you no voice?
Fathers where are you? Can you not protect?
How long is this to continue?
Will she survive this continuous violation

The gang rape of a nation.

By: IF Anumonye

Turbulence of Love

We sang the songs of sorrow

And danced to the mournful tune

Where did the promise go

To hold and to keep?

Life is but a motion

Since you left without a word

I gave you my heart in worship

You threw it back in pieces

I gave you my love freely

You accepted it without passion

Now the reality is obvious

The past was placed on the altar of worship

I am caught in the turbulence of love

The pang of pain is potent

My heart, trapped in the sham of love

Mourning the phoney love

I am like a ship without the rudder

Sinking in the turbulence of love.

image: coursey Google image

I Take Every Step

© Copyright Jan Richards All rights reserved

I take every step gingerly

Like the careful step of an old woman

With dry and brittle bones

I take every step though difficult

I must forge ahead

I take every step

Bent and beaten by the issues of life

Head raised high, refused to be defeated

Like a man in command

I take every step

Trying not to look back

I must keep on moving

Irrespective of what life

Throws my way

Message in the Bottle

I sat by the window pane

Watching the world go by

Thinking about unfulfilled dreams

So many questions to ask

Yet no answers

My heart heavy with the burden

My eyes heavy with unshed tears

I feel all alone

Bearing this burden

Then I heard the whispers of the song

That confirms am not alone in this journey

Those hundreds of letters

That came back

With the message in the bottle

Photograph is courtesy photograph is an art and the LG...Rhythms

American Mugu

We were in my sitting room watching a Nollywood movie. The storyline was that of two men who were trying to con a young girl whom they assumed was from a rich family. The plot was silly and funny at the same time. I was amused at what men will do to sleep with a girl including telling obvious lies. Wobioluwamitito, whom we call Tito because her name was rather long and jaw breaking for the non-Yoruba speaking people; kept on smiling to herself as we continued watching the movie. Sometimes, she would chuckle loud which was distracting and annoying. Although, I was more curious as to why she was so amused I didn’t ask her. The movie finished and we sat back to discuss it as the credit rolled.

"That was a silly movie" I said as a way of conversation.

"Not silly, it happens in real life" Tito replied

"Why would the guy die at the end of it? Nigerian movie directors like to kill their actors. I wonder who will be left on earth if that's how we all die at every slight opportunity" I said not impressed.

"It’s true." Esther said. "I am not so much of a fan of Nigerian movies joo!"

"You are not a fan of anything Nigerian. That's why you were almost duped by that fake Americanna" I said laughing at Esther

"That one don craze. Me sef I show am now" Esther replied laughing.

"All these bobos are mugu. I tell you" Tito said shaking her head. "In fact this movie reminded me of one mugu who started harassing me on Facebook.”

"Really!" I said.

"Ha see me o! This guy requested for my friendship. As I am very careful of who I sign on, I went to check the friend list and I saw that we shared a lot of friends in common so I decided to sign him on." Tito narrated.

"That was a mistake o!" I cut in.

"Are you telling me? It was the biggest mistake of my life. This guy was smooth. He started passing comments on all my posts and liking all my pictures. One day he sent me a mail commenting on my name. He was always so familiar that I would have sworn that I knew him. He asked for the meaning which I told him."

“That's not strange, please! People always want to know the meaning of your name." Esther said. "It was your name that got me attracted to you in Uni now remember?"

“Yes I know and that was why I gave him audience. Anyway, one day, we chatted on Facebook about issues going on in Nigeria that was when he told me he lived in America. Shortly after, he started mailing me regularly. Sometimes, I responded but most times, I ignored him. About the time of my birthday, he said he wanted to get me a gift. He kept on pestering me on what I wanted but I just felt that he could get anything without making a big fuss out of it” Tito said.

“So, don’t tell me you turned down the offer? Ore, wetin dey do you now?” Esther inquired

“Why don’t you just exercise patience and let her finish this story.” I answered Esther getting mildly irritated by her interruption.

“Anyway, after much persuasion on his side, he decided to send money to me to buy either a Samsung galaxy, a watch, or an Ipad.” Tito continued.

“Ore, you have collected awufu. Where is the money?” Esther interrupted again.

“Wait now, he sent fifty thousand naira. Of course, since all the items he suggested was far more expensive than what he sent, I bought myself a BB.” Tito explained.

“Yuck!” Esther said squeezing her face into an ugly shape.

“Well I needed another BB at that time and I still had change to do some other things that needed to be taking care of.” Tito replied defensively. “But you know, he now had access to my phone number. He would call endlessly that I began to think that the guy must have issues.”

“Isn’t that a sign that he cared?” I asked.

Esther snickered “Ose has come with this her mushy-mushy emotional stuff o!” she mocked

“No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I didn’t see it that way because I was irritated by it.”

“Irritated? That sounded more like devotion to me.” I said ignoring the horrible look Esther shot my way.

“The guy is overbearing and boastful. He said he was going to buy clothes for me and I wondered what the cheek! Someone I don’t even now”.

“He has no class. But you can’t blame him that’s what most guys use in luring young girls into a clandestine relationship.” Ose said knowingly.

“He told me his whole family lived in Canada and America. Only for him to gist me about his immediate elder sister who was living in his village somewhere in Ekiti.” Tito said.

“Just trying to impress you now.” Esther said chuckling to herself.

“Why didn’t you ask him why the sister was living in Nigeria now? Ok, maybe because she is married to a local.” Esther said as we all burst into laughter.

“The man can boast! He told me he wanted to buy a house in Ikoyi that I should find out the cost when I complained about my area of Lagos.”

“Oh! Na wa for you o! But Tito, you are a slacker. You could have turned him into a maga and collect all the stuff he was trying to shove down your throat.” Esther laughed clapping her hands the way she does anytime she is excited.

“Ore, I was just amused by it all. All the lies. How he has properties at the Caribbean and that’s where he would love to take me on a vacation.”

“Oh yeah! Which one Barbados?” I asked as we all laughed with tears rolling down our eyes. I held on to my side because I didn’t know such people still existed. Telling unintelligent lies.

“Look at you guys, he sent me website of universities I can go there o!” Tito said as we all burst out laughing again.

“You tell am you want to go school?” Esther asked almost choking on her laughter.

"He even said he would set me up in business, give me a car and a driver." Tito said sighing. 

"Hey! How you go turn down such a juicy offer!" Esther exclaimed holding her head. 

“One day, I tried to find out about his family but he was non-committal so I left him but that was an indication that he was married. After a while, he would only call at odd hours and very infrequent. One day, he explained that he was very busy with his tax returns. So I asked in January? He said he liked to start early and this may take him till April before he would be less busy but I see his comments on Facebook all the time. After a while, I got fed up of all his lies and just ignored his messages and calls.” Tito said.

“You could have being more patience with him maybe he was truly serious about these tax returns thing.” I said chuckling.

“Is he running a conglomerate? He is a community nurse for goodness sake and that’s if he is what he claims he is and not doing bootlegging.” Tito said sniggering

“Ha! You have serious badbelly for this guy o!” I said.

“I do! I don’t like anybody taking me for a fool” Tito replied.

“But seriously, it pained me that you didn’t collect the trailer load of stuff that he was going to send from America. At least you will give me some thing now.” Esther said pretending to be upset.

"Even the car and the driver! By now we would have being doing madam Tito!" I replied mocking her

“You are not both serious." Tito responded laughing.

"But seriously, that’s how women fall prey you know. I have heard stories of some ladies who were duped of their personal belongings.” I answered.

“Those girls are crazy. How can you take any guy you meet on Facebook serious? Most of them are looking for who to devour especially single matured ladies.” Tito answered.

“God saved you o Tito!” Esther said.

"How now? How you see me so? I resemble mumu? He is the American Mugu now." Tito replied laughing.

Image is courtesy of Google Image