Tuesday 16 May 2017

MRS TO MISERY, Part 5


…… That night, Olanrewaju and I didn’t share our bed, we argued for over three hours but none of us was willing to compromise, we both wanted what we wanted. He was the one who broke the silence.

‘Adetoun, the sooner you start getting used to it, the better for you. I’m not going to invite strangers into our home to allow my lazy wife stay happy. No way’
His eyes were red and full, he was so upset that he just said the things that came to his mind without taking caution. I wasn’t willing to keep calm either, this wasn’t what we agreed. I know we didn’t agree anything though, but this wasn’t what was happening during our relationship day. How was I supposed to just adjust and move on with hard labour. Ko jo rara.

‘Olanrewaju, I don’t think this idea of yours is going to work at all, even if we don’t have permanent ones, let’s do part time for a start, so that the work is reduced.’
‘Mummy of the house, we do not need domestic staff and that’s final. If you insist however, you will need to choose between your husband and domestic staff.’
Please o, Ki la gbe? Ki le ju? (It isn’t up to that). I don’t like to hear the word divorce. That things scares me like a plague. Even if divorce was going to come into question not four days after wedding, that would be record breaking. I can’t even divorce, I was a marriage minister on social media, always giving quotes about sticking together no matter what, and how love can turn everything around. If I ever come back into this world, I don’t need anyone to tell me to always look beyond the surface.

I just could not divorce, it wasn’t even because of Olanrewaju, he was getting on my last nerve but for the sake of my social media followers, I cannot fall hands and break hearts.
‘Olanrewaju we are just four days into our marriage and you are already talking divorce.’
‘Adetoun, I only plead with you to respect our marriage. Good night’
He stormed out of the living room, leaving me to worry about all the problems before us. I sat on the couch and played a video of the coming days in my mind. We haven’t even started and trouble is already looming. Arguments and fights since we got back from the moon. The last time he called me sexy T was at the hotel, I guess there’s nothing sexy about anger afterall.
I must have slept off on the couch because the sound of rain, woke me. It was exactly 9am, I walked to the front door and looked through the window, Olanrewaju had left for work without saying a word to me. I walked into the rain and just sat there crying. It wasn’t even about the chores anymore, it was now about the fact that I was emotionally stressed. Olanrewaju and I were arguing and fighting too much and all of these was getting to me. Olanrewaju was breaking my heart by being so disrespectful and insensitive to my needs. It was a good thing I had few days before resumption, I made up my mind to try the best that I could to make things work.

I went into the room, unpacked and sorted out the dirty clothes. I started to work, it was exhausting. I realised that mop drying wasn’t so easy afterall. I was always shouting at Mama Ibeji to mop dry so I wouldn’t slip, now I was in the same shoes and it really just seemed easier to squeeze a little and mop rather than use all my strength and spend another five minutes squeezing the mop before cleaning.

I tried to do all I could, at some point I crashed and slept for two straight hours. I’ve never had to do that much work all at once. Mopping, sweeping, washing, scrubbing the toilets, laying the bed, I tried I really did. Even though I had to wait an extra thirty minutes for the floor to get dried before walking around the house. The most important thing was that I got the work done.
I finished cleaning at about 5pm, I totally forgot about food, the work was the most important thing. I decided to rest a little before going to the market. Unfortunately, my rest turned into doze, and finally into sleep. I must have slept for another two hours. Because when I opened my eyes, Olanrewaju was standing infront of me. I jumped up and gave him a big hug. I was so happy to see him and I was hoping that my cleaning exercise would at least make him happy.

‘I see you’ve cleaned up. That’s what I’m talking about. It isn’t so hard dear, once you begin, it just gets better.’
‘ehn ehn, okay o’
‘I’m sorry I was hard on you earlier, you know I love you.’
‘I love you too’

He hugged me tightly and kissed my forehead. I felt safe again in his arms, I was happy that we were getting back and we could definitely work things out.
As he sat down, he asked about food and it was at that point I realised that I had not gone to the market before sleep took over me.

‘Sweetheart I’m famished. Any delicacy for the boy.’
‘Olanrewaju I’m so sorry, I lost track of time trying to get the house perfect and forgot to make food.’
‘Adetoun you definitely need to get these things put together, seems you don’t know the last thing about managing a home. I don’t understand how food is the last thing you think about.’
‘I’m sorry please let me try and fix something’
‘Don’t worry, that will be too late.’

He got up and walked out of the house. I knew where he was going. The usual spot where we had dinner when we were dating. I was relieved that there was a readymade option but I was upset that he was being so insensitive, with all the work I had done, he was getting upset over a plate of food. Na wa, I was a little worried he would stay out late since he sounded angry but to my surprise, he came back not long after he left with food.

I thought that was really sweet. We ate together and he told me he didn’t want us eating out. He said since he was married now, it would seem irresponsible if he drops by the eatery all the time.

‘Abi mummy cannot cook?’
‘Of course I can, I just got carried away and you know I’m new to this territory, I’m trying my best jo.’
‘We are in this together, we should stop fighting, we can make it work.’

I wasn’t a bad cook I guess, it just wasn’t something I liked to do. It always seemed like too much work. But when I didn’t have a choice, I cooked. Although there are some meals I dread, Amala was a disaster, Amala and its white friend Semovita, Semovita is a lot easier than Amala but then I never got it right. It was always kokoful (full of lumps), My Okro was like Quaker oats, never drawing always sleeping. Then jollof rice that one will just starting burning before I put maggi. But my cooking must become great for Olarewaju, we had to fix every cooking error.

I started adjusting to my new status and I was determined to make it work, I spent hours on google learning to cook, Dooney’s kitchen always to the rescue. I knew it was going to be a lot of work but I was willing to put extra effort.

I was back to work and I tried all my best to balance work and home. Things were getting better at least, we no longer had frequent fights, just little complaints about cooking and sleeping way too much. Sleep was important to me. Saturdays and Sundays were life, I would sleep in till 11am or 12pm sometimes and that was a big problem now that I had a home to run. But I was working on it. Olanrewaju will put my phone volume to the highest, place it by my pillow and make sure it wakes me up. That was working well and things were getting better in that regard.
I wasn’t so bad afterall just a few things I had to fix and we were definitely getting there. Nothing is impossible if we can set our minds to it and decide to be a better version. Slowly but surely.

We were months into our marriage and even though it had not been perfect, it wasn’t as bad as the beginning. Things were better, except for Olanrewaju’s hurtful words sometimes and stubborn nature. Once Olanrewaju got angry, He would just talk and say very mean things. There was a day he insinuated that I was cheating on him because I told him I wasn’t enjoying sex anymore. Olanrewaju kept up his quick and aggressive sex episodes. There was nothing sweet, soft and romantic about love making.

‘Babe can you be gentle please, this isn’t fun anymore, it’s just rough’
‘Really, I’m not fun anymore? When you were begging and crying for it before now you didn’t know. Are you seeing someone else? I’m not enough for you anymore? What is the meaning of rough?’
‘I’m sorry.’

Sex times had become war times. Any complain seems like an attack on his person and he just felt I was disrespecting him. Because of his reactions, I decide to stop complaining and just go with the flow but I wasn’t pleased.

I needed someone to talk to and share these silent troubles with. I just wanted something better, not perfect. And somewhere In all of these, somewhere out of the blues, Tunji Ninalowo sent me a friend request on Facebook.

  • ·         If you don’t know how to do something, learn to do it. No shame in incapability, It is staying incapable that brings torment.
  • ·         If your reason for making your marriage of relationship work is people, then your working out is for the wrong reason. Focus must always be on the man and woman involved then the God that created them.
  • ·         Always appreciate the little efforts people make, no matter how little. A call, an alarm set for you, cleaning assistance, whatever it is, both parties must learn to encourage one another, therein lies the key to more work.
  • ·         No one is perfect, always listen to corrections and make room for change.
  • ·         Develop yourself, learn something, read something, create something, build your interest. Find a purpose. Marriage is not all there is to life because even in the walls of marriage is where the true test of knowledge begins. Marriage is a combination of many things, an ingredient in life’s recipe.
  • ·         Don’t fling out precious names all in the name of we are getting old. Let them stick forever. There can be sweetness even in anger. Sugar, I don’t like this……, there’s a calm that can bring.
  • ·         When I was going through this phase of my life, I didn’t know God and I don’t know how I allow myself miss God. But please for any relationship with people, make sure you have God because He alone can restore the broken pieces.


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