In the last seven years, I have been in school; the school of life and last year I graduated; though not with flying colours. I am telling my story through this medium because it would be a sin against womanhood if I didn’t. Even if it is only one woman my story sets free, what I went through in the hands of a cold-blooded abuser would have been worth it.

This is My Story

My name is Yetunde Makinde (not my real name) and I was 18 when I met my boyfriend Mike, whom I eventually married at 25. We met at a church function in Kaduna, where I was in school. My parents, both deceased, were staunch Catholics and I was raised as one; although I was more fascinated by the Pentecostal way of worship. When my parents died in a nasty road accident, I changed my denomination. I was so traumatized by my parents’ death that I left Kaduna and moved in with an aunt in Abuja. I eventually trained as a teacher. Mike, my boyfriend and I kept the relationship going and though he didn’t like the fact that I left Kaduna, we still saw as often as his job as a banker brought him to Abuja. He was there for me and made sure I lacked nothing. He would send me money and stuff. He wanted me to start a trade and leave teaching but I told him teaching was the one thing that gave me joy. One day when he came to visit in Abuja, I visited him in his hotel. He sulked throughout that week-end and when I got him to open up; he said he didn’t like the fact that contrary to his opinion, I remained a teacher. 

Well I Never!

“Don’t you have any ambition?” he barked at me! “Don’t raise your voice at me” I said feebly and the next sound I heard was his palm connecting with my face! It was such an unexpected slap that I staggered and fell on the bed. I looked up in utter bewilderment as he warned; “Don’t ever answer me back. I can raise my voice as loud as I want and hit you if that becomes necessary!” It wasn’t for another five minutes that I began to cry. In a fit of rage, I lunged at him and tried to slap him back but that was a mistake because by the time he was done with me, I was all bruised up.  Blinded by tears, I raced out of the hotel room and took a taxi to my friend’s and told her my story.

“I don’t get it.” Hauwa said over and over again as if I hadn’t told her how and why I deserved to be so maltreated. “He beat you up because you asked him not to raise his voice at you?” “Where is he staying?” she demanded “That guy needs to be put on a leash, he is a mad dog. I can’t believe what I am hearing and you are not even married to him o” “Leave him alone!” I muttered; “We are done! Thank God I saw a side of him I never saw, imagine if I was married to him.” 

“Good idea, just dump that ‘yeye Ibo boy’. Don’t pick his calls and maybe it’s time to give that guy from your school a chance” Hauwa said, totally upset by what she’d just heard. In order to ensure that I severed every aspect of my contact with Mike, she got me a sim card but unknown to her, I bought another handset and maintained my old number too. I saw Mike’s missed calls and text messages and hissed at his audacity to even think I would run back to him after his brutal attack on me. “Idiot” I hissed every time I read one text after the other.

assion is a strong enthusiasm or desire for something. It is a compelling emotion, feeling or fondness for something.

Passion is what you crave or long for. And only those who discover their passion reign in life.

Interestingly, everyone on this planet earth has passion for one thing or the other. 

Everyone craves for something; it is an inbuilt trait from creation. But when you fail to discover your passion, you will almost always not go far in life. 

I once read about a research that was carried out in America about people who died on Monday mornings. It was observed that the largest percentage of people who died every Monday morning died of heart attack. They died of heart attack because they all hated going to their workplace. They hated to go to work because they never found joy or fulfillment in their jobs. These people lack recognition for their passion. 

When your passion is not recognized, you remain frustrated and uncelebrated. If you have a gift and you are not exercising it, you are probably going to be poor. But when you discover your passion, it would not only make you stand before kings, it will also make kings stand before you. To reign in life, you need to discover that thing which you have a strong enthusiasm for, as you are only guaranteed to produce the best results doing what you are passionate about.

assion is a strong enthusiasm or desire for something. It is a compelling emotion, feeling or fondness for something.

Passion is what you crave or long for. And only those who discover their passion reign in life.

Interestingly, everyone on this planet earth has passion for one thing or the other. 

Everyone craves for something; it is an inbuilt trait from creation. But when you fail to discover your passion, you will almost always not go far in life. 

I once read about a research that was carried out in America about people who died on Monday mornings. It was observed that the largest percentage of people who died every Monday morning died of heart attack. They died of heart attack because they all hated going to their workplace. They hated to go to work because they never found joy or fulfillment in their jobs. These people lack recognition for their passion. 

When your passion is not recognized, you remain frustrated and uncelebrated. If you have a gift and you are not exercising it, you are probably going to be poor. But when you discover your passion, it would not only make you stand before kings, it will also make kings stand before you. To reign in life, you need to discover that thing which you have a strong enthusiasm for, as you are only guaranteed to produce the best results doing what you are passionate about….

Morning Dew’ the book was finally launched in March on my birthday in  true Genevieve tradition of going the whole 9 yards. “Put a twist to it.” I always say; why go with the flow?  So, Morning Dew “was launched in the most untraditional style, starting with the décor which held guests spellbound as they entered the lounge of the AGIP hall where the mood was instantly set. The readings were unprecedented and you could hear a pin drop as each person read her-his fave Dew.I thought I was having an out of body experience. I loved every itsy bitsy moment of it. One memory that will remain etched on my mind for a long time is that of me sitting in the audience among friends and family, watching other people read from my book and then interprete them differently from my thought! Those moments remain frozen! Finally, I am an author…even if it by default! What a feeling! One thing that excites me most now is that I have come into my own, BIG time. The little girl has grown up, thank you dearests for letting me go through the process.

 There are so many things unfolding in my life right now that I fear I may not have enough time to deliver. “Did I always know I could write?” I was asked. “No,” I said, “I didn’t know until I persistently put pen on paper.” Having said that, there are so many things each of us don’t know we are capable of doing until we keep at it – practice takes each of us closer to getting it right, not necessarily to a point of perfection. Is there any such thing  as that, really? “Congratulations,  a friend said; “It is when most of us are winding down that you are revving it up!” No one needs to shut down… It’s not about the time of day or year, it’s just a question of; “How old is your mind”? Each day, we are renewed or burnt to mental ashes according to our inner make up. Just look at the phoenix, it rises from its ashes…Why die before you’re dead?….

My name is Bukola Oluonye and I am married to Edwin, who works as a pilot and together we have two daughters; 21 and 19. As for me, I’d say my first career is domestic engineering, meaning running the home. A lot of people don’t see running the home as a career on its own, but it is. If, however, you ask what I do for a living in the process, then I’d say counselling. I used to live in England with my two girls - I’d taken time off to go back to the University to study Psychology. So I counsel and in the course of counselling many people, I also discovered Forever Living products, which are aloe-vera based. I found out that this product works from the inside, right to the outside; so it kind of complements my domestic engineering, my psychology and my working inside out. I believe in working inside out and I believe in helping people do same. 

The Dilemma of Marriage

I feel obliged to come out and talk about my travail because I have come to realise that it is one thing people hardly talk about. I’m talking of the loss of identity and the seeming docility that come with marriage. While marriage is something every woman is supposed to look forward to, for me, it was my biggest trouble. I think it was hard for  me because I’m not really a conformist. I also think that because we weren’t truly educated about marriage in this society, a lot of us women don’t know what to expect. Straight from being young girls, we become mothers and then we become known as  mothers and subsequently lose our identity…. The fact that I wasn’t identified as ME anymore, but as Mama Alero or Iya Tosan really wasn’t interesting for me. Some other people, especially my husband’s friends referred to me as ‘Madam,’ which is a show of respect and which is actually supposed to be okay; but for me, it meant a loss of identity. And that can really get anyone thinking until one becomes aggressive, because one is losing self and self is very important in management, in work, at home and with people. That was my biggest challenge then; and it wasn’t my husband’s fault either. It was cultural.

Initially I was very submissive, you know very docile because I was scared of my marriage coming to an end. I conformed by force, stopped using my brain and literally depended on my husband to make or take decisions for me. The bad part  however was that resentment gradually set in, but I found out that it wasn’t necessarily against the person (that is, my husband), but the situation I found myself in…..

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For me, being romantic means understanding the kind of person that I am; and I think the society determines to a large extent how romantic you are. If you grew up seeing your dad kiss your mum and the two are all mushy, mushy you’ll probably grow up like that. Growing up as a child you are like an empty hard-drive, whatever is installed in you is what you turn out to be, if your father is always beating your mum, you tend to play rough with the opposite sex. To a large extent, I am romantic. I remember there was once this girl I always likely but never summoned the courage to tell. She was going to leave for America in 1996, my dad was having his 50th birthday and it was taking place in Abeokuta (she shared the same birthday with my dad) and she was leaving for America on that day. I had saved up money to buy her a present. She had a boyfriend then and I really hated him. I was learning to drive at that time, I stole the car from my dad and drove to Lagos and I was told she had left for the airport. I dropped the present and headed for the airport; I was with my friend, Jide; we got to the airport, ran quickly through security with the security man shouting, “Stop! Stop!” I stopped but Jide kept running, and as they chased after him I used that as an opportunity to run past them. I was a few minutes late to professing my love to her, she had boarded the plane. Now she is married and I am certain that would be the last kind of stunt I’ll ever pull in the name of love.

Dayo Oyedele Film And Movie Director Cinder Company

Being romantic means you are thinking of ‘us’ as a couple and all that concerns ‘us’; you take my interest to heart, you want to see me grow and you are the shoulder on which I can cry. It is the ability to communicate, to be friends and to be able to share everything. Sometimes when I’m driving I’d suddenly notice my husband staring at me and when I jokingly ask him ‘what?’, he’ll tell me, ‘Do you know I love you?’ And he’d start recalling interesting memories of our relationship, like how I stood by him. And when he is on assignments outside the country, he sends me text messages. Romance isn’t about kissing and hugging, it is about caring and sharing. If your man is not romantic, then take the initiative and do it. I will never forget the way he proposed to me, really romantic. We’d had a quarrel before parting ways around midnight and early the next morning, he was at my house; he said his father wanted to see me. Of course he knew how much I respected his father and that I would respond to his call.  And when we got there, daddy simply told me he’d bought  tickets and we were going to Benin to meet my parents to request for a wedding date. I couldn’t stop staring at my husband.

Caroline Adeneye (Mrs. D1)