Prologue

Ode Itsekiri… 33 Years Ago…

Oma Domingo heaved a sigh of relief as the lights of the ancient town came into focus.

Ode Itsekiri, the ancestral home of all Itsekiri sons and daughters. She smiled despite the sharp pains coursing through her body. She was finally here; finally home.

“Mo dokpe. Thank you very much,” she mumbled to the man paddling the canoe as he helped her out of the small boat and onto the wooden deck on the riverbank. She wrapped the Ankara cloth she had draped around herself more tightly as she made her way one step at a time, ignoring the pain, determined to reach her sister’s home on time.

Her sister, Alero Domingo, fondly called Sisi Alero or Sisi Domingo by all who knew her, had been widowed many years ago and had never had a child. She was a traditional midwife who had delivered many children in the community. Many were now established men and women who often returned to pay homage with gifts, enabling Sisi Domingo to own her small two-bedroom home in Ode Itsekiri.

The Domingo family gained fame among the Itsekiri people for introducing them to the Portuguese. More than a hundred years ago, one of their forebears spotted the Portuguese as they arrived in Ode Itsekiri and welcomed them into his home. This led to marriage with the Portuguese and the adoption of the Portuguese name Domingo. They were not only Itsekiris but also Portuguese, maintaining their relations to this day.

They were a big family, but not a close-knit one. Their late father was the parent of many children, while their mother only had Alero and Oma. The sisters shared a close bond despite the twenty-five-year age gap between them. Oma did not know their mother, as she passed away before Oma’s first birthday, and Sisi Alero raised Oma as her daughter.

Sisi Alero displayed a strong sense of protectiveness towards Oma, and it took considerable persuasion before she consented to her living and working in Warri because of the decreasing availability of jobs in Ode Itsekiri. That was four years ago when Oma was twenty-one years old. Initially, Oma came home at every opportunity, but for the past nine months, she did not come home, although she did not fail to send Sisi Alero her monthly allowances and write letters about how she fared. A little about how she fared: she did not think Sisi Alero would appreciate the entire story, so she kept some of it to herself.

She let out another sigh, partly to bear the pain she experienced and partly to regain her composure. She had arrived at Sisi Alero’s little, two-bedroom, red-brick bungalow, less than a mile from the waterfront. Shortly, she would face her sister, who played the motherly role and shared her wisdom. With a sense of shame, Oma acknowledged that she had not followed her teachings.

Inside, the lights stayed switched on, indicating that Sisi Alero, a woman who followed a routine of going to bed early and waking up early, was still awake. Oma placed her little bag, packed in a hurry and bearing all her most important possessions on the little steps, and after wrapping herself more tightly, she knocked on the door.

“Eri nesin? Who is it?” Sisi Alero’s shrill but strong voice enquired from within.

Oma smiled despite her discomfort. Yes, that was the Sisi Alero Domingo she was familiar with.

“Sisi, Emi ren. It is me, Omasan.”

The door swung open instantly. Luckily, it opened inside, sparing her face from a harsh impact. She barely picked up her bag before Sisi Alero enveloped her in a fierce hug.

In pain, she winced, causing the older woman to step back and peer at her with wise eyes that never missed a thing.

“Oma, are you ill?”

Tears welled up in Oma’s eyes. Tears of relief, knowing she had returned home and all would be well. Before she said anything, Sisi Alero ushered her into the tidy, pleasant living room. Once inside, Oma put her bag down and turned to face her sister, removing the wrapper she had used to cover herself. As she did, Sisi’s eyes widened in shock.

“Sisi, please forgive me. I have no one else to turn to and nowhere to go!” Oma cried.

“Oh, Oma!” Sisi covered her mouth with her calloused hands. “Oma, you are pregnant! How could you?!”

“I am sorry,” was all she managed to utter before another surge of pain spread through her body, forcing her to double over and clutch her abdomen. Then, as it subsided, came the sensation of needing to relieve her bowels. “Sisi, please, I need to use the toilet,” she announced, overwhelmed by the irresistible urge to push.

“No! You are in labour.” Sisi Alero took her arm and led her into the small room that used to be hers until she went to live and work in Warri.

And so began the longest night of Oma Domingo’s life. She pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed, and finally, in the wee hours of the morning, a woman about Sisi Alero’s age and a traditional midwife in Ode Itsekiri placed the tiny baby in her arms.

Oma was weary, but not too exhausted to admire her beautiful baby. As she looked at him, her smile expressed triumph. It proved to be worthwhile in the end. The entire experience had been worth it; one day, her name would be known by all Itsekiri people. She looked at the midwife, then at Sisi Alero, who wept softly, and finally at the sleeping baby in her arms.

“Onetoritsebawoete!” she proclaimed and closed her eyes.

Chapter One

The Kingdom of Benin …. Today

Amenze concluded that her life, as she had known it, was officially finished. She observed with great interest and a slight pang of sadness as her dear childhood friend Tiyan Alile was seated on her fiancé’s lap. Traditionally, this meant they were now man and wife. Tiyan was now officially Mrs Usi Isekhure, the wife of the Chief Priest of the Benin Kingdom. First, Eki, then Ede and now Tiyan. Amenze’s friends were now married, and her relationship with them would change regardless of whether she wanted it to. Their friendship would take on a different disposition.

Amenze sighed in resignation. Despite being practical and realistic, witnessing the joy of her married friends made her feel like she was missing out on something special. She secretly desired that something special for herself. Yes. She desired to understand the essence of falling in love. She wished to be married to a man she loved and have her belly swell with his baby!

Amenze considered her relationship with Dimitris Papadopoulos and bit back a groan. It frustrated her that her relationship with Dimitris Papadopoulos was going nowhere fast. Seeing her friends marry and get pregnant left her completely dissatisfied with her life and also led to a subtle resentment for her boyfriend and the desire to bring the relationship to an end. She envied her friends.

She wasn’t the only person who noticed that her friends were entering into matrimony. Her mother noticed, and on the eve of another friend’s wedding ceremony, Tuedor Giwa-Amu called her only daughter to the living room for a chat. She thought Amenze was a fool for wanting to break up with Dimitris instead of using her feminine wiles to get him to marry her.

Amenze was a realist. Dating Dimitris Papadopoulos had been fun, but she didn’t think they had what Eki and Oba Osad or Tiyan and Usi had. Or even what Ede and Sato had. If they did, they would get married, not constantly seek the latest Michelin-starred restaurant to try for dinner. She’d become fed up with that! Love, romance, and marriage were what she desired. Her desire was to be looked at with the same intensity as Oba Osad looked at Eki, as Usi looked at Tiyan, and as Sato looked at Ede. Oh, and even as her father looked at her mother after almost forty years of marriage!

“Don’t you love him?” her mother had asked during their little chat last night, a puzzled expression on her ageing but still beautiful face.

“Love?” Amenze snorted. “Of course not.”

“I will never understand you.”

“That makes you and most people,” Amenze had murmured. And me, she’d added silently.

Amenze’s scowl deepened as she recollected her mother’s nagging. Her mother thought she was getting old and reminded her that she had already been married at Amenze’s age.

As midnight approached, Amenze decided to say her goodbyes and leave the party. Tiyan, the glowing bride, had been escorted to her husband’s home according to the Benin native law and customs. The lavish reception at the groom’s house was now quickly ending, with guests leaving one after the other as the early hours of the following day approached.

The night was as pretty as a picture, with the moon as a backdrop. But it was both warm and humid. Amenze stepped out of the air-conditioned three-storey house, instantly hot and uncomfortable in her bridesmaid outfit – a red long-sleeve mermaid dress made of luxurious embroidered fabric. The traditional Benin Okuku hairstyle was done beautifully, and her neck was adorned with multiple strings of coral beads, adding to her discomfort. With one hand holding up her floor-length dress, she walked down the cobbled drive, her red stiletto heels clicking against the ground, while palm trees and garden lamps lined the path to the car park.

Amenze had just reached the white Kia Sportage she’d borrowed from her mother when she heard the groom’s voice behind her.

“Amenze, just a minute!”

Amenze turned around, and sure enough, Chief Usi Isekhure approached her as she stood in the large open car park outside his vast home. She furrowed her brows as she tried to decipher what he wanted.

“Hey, Amenze. I’ve been meaning to have a quick word with you all day.” His smile was quickly replaced with a frown.

Amenze disliked his intent gaze. Had she done something wrong, broken some traditional or cultural protocol, perhaps? Chief Usi Isekhure wasn’t just her best friend’s husband; he was the revered Chief Priest of the Benin Kingdom, and as the mouthpiece of the gods of the land—his word was potent.

He was not a man to be taken lightly. Her heart beat a little faster as the frown on Usi’s face deepened, and he came closer. She wasn’t great friends with Usi, not being present while his romance with Tiyan blossomed. But he seemed laid back the few times she’d seen or been around him, causing her to wonder, what now?

“What is the matter, Usi?” Amenze wondered whether it was a good time to be on a first-name basis with him. The man standing before her didn’t look like a friend, but rather like a chief priest.

Usi did not respond to her question. Instead, he caught her chin and slowly and carefully scrutinised her face.

“There is no mistake. You are the Olori of the Warri Kingdom. A Benin woman born for the Warri throne. He placed the crown on your head and called you Olori Sisan.” Usi released her chin.

Amenze did not burst out laughing for three reasons. No one dared laugh at the Chief Priest of the Benin Kingdom. Chief Priest Isekhure had never been wrong. Hadn’t she witnessed how Eki tried to escape the prophecy only to run right into it? Her heart raced even faster.

The third reason she didn’t laugh was that her middle name was Sisan. It was an Itsekiri name given to her by her Itsekiri mother but rarely ever used. Apart from Eki and Tiyan, no one outside her family knew her name was Sisan. Unless Tiyan told him. But why would Tiyan mention her rarely used name to Usi?

Then she pondered Usi’s use of the title Olori. Olori was the title used by the queen of the Warri kingdom. Was she going to be a queen? Queen of the Warri Kingdom? Who had Usi seen placing the crown on her head? She presumed the words were thoughts in her heart until she heard Usi answer.

“The Olu of Warri!”

Amenze gasped. The Olu of Warri? Olu Ginuwa III? At seventy-one years of age, the man was older than her father!

“Olu Ginuwa III?” she demanded angrily.

“Do nothing to mess this up. Do not attempt to make it happen,” Usi warned severely before walking away.

Do not attempt to make it happen?! What did that mean? Amenze thought with chagrin as she entered her car and slammed the door shut. She had no intention of trying to make the ludicrous prophecy happen! Why would she want to make a marriage to a man older than her father happen? If anything, she planned to do the exact opposite and do everything she could to make it not happen!

As she drove home, in a foul mood, she cursed her rotten luck. What was the deal with her? Why did she always get the short end of the stick? Eki married the young and handsome Oba of Benin, and Tiyan married the young and handsome Chief Priest of the Benin kingdom. Ede married the young and handsome bodyguard of the king. They all married young and handsome husbands.

And who would she marry? The old, ugly, never mind polygamous Olu of Warri. She punched the steering wheel and wanted to scream out her frustration! The gods were most unkind to her. Fate was most unkind to her. Life was cruel to her! She refused to accept this without a fight. She would go to great lengths to make it not happen, and in the end, if it still happened, well, at least she would not be going to the old man with her virginity intact. Note to self: Amenze, get rid of virginity as soon as you return to London.

“You look like you’re returning from a funeral instead of a wedding,” her mother commented as soon as Amenze entered the living room.

Amenze’s mother was an average-height woman with a well-rounded body gained through childbirth and years of cooking and eating sumptuous meals. She had a charming face that suited her plus-size body and was fashionable, always wearing clothes that flattered her figure.

Tonight, she dressed casually in Ankara palazzo pants and a denim shirt. She was a proud Itsekiri woman from the Warri kingdom, addressed fondly as Sisi Tuedor or Sisi Giwa-Amu. She loathed being called “mama” or “aunty” as it made her feel too old at sixty. Older Itsekiri women shared this sentiment and were addressed as Sisi.

Amenze wasn’t surprised to see her mother still awake. Sisi Tuedor would stay up whenever any family member was out late. She had done it for her husband and sons when they lived at home and began going out with friends at night. Now, she did it for her only daughter and last child.

Amenze dropped onto the deliciously soft leather sofa beside her mother and kicked off her stilettoes. “It seemed like a funeral at the end.”

Her mother looked baffled. “Did anything go wrong? Are Tiyan and her husband okay?”

“They are fine, Mum. Nothing wrong at their end, but plenty at mine.”

Sisi Tuedor knitted her brows. “Tell me what happened,” she invited, her frown deepening as Amenze recounted her brief meeting with Usi.

“Well, at least now we are certain you will marry!”

“Mummy!”

“Listen to me, my daughter; there are worse things in life than marrying a man much older than you are.”

“I don’t believe you are saying this, Mum.” Amenze shook her head in utter disbelief.

“Niko wo fe gin demi fo? What would you have me say, Amenze? Last night, you insisted you wanted to break up with Dimitris, even though I thought you were better off giving your relationship a chance. I told you that getting another man may be challenging and that African women living in the United Kingdom struggle to marry. Some of your father’s distant cousins, who travelled to live in the UK years ago, are still unmarried in their forties. I worry about you emulating them, especially as you will be in London for another three years for your doctoral programme. Now, a prophecy foretells your marriage to a king. Should I say the gods forbid because he is much older?”

“Here we go again.” Amenze groaned and rolled her eyes. They discussed this yesterday, and Amenze slept late. Perhaps she should go to bed and catch up on much-needed sleep. She rose to her feet. “I’m going to bed, Mum. If I must marry Olu Ginuwa III, then I will, but I will go to him screaming and kicking!”

“Hmm… Oton mi tse denden. Child, be careful. The chief priest has warned you not to mess this up; please listen to him. It’s better to be married to an older man than to be an older unmarried woman. You are my only daughter; please let your heart pity your mother.”

Amenze rolled her eyes as she bent and picked up her shoes. Her mother could be dramatic when the occasion suited her. She’d used the same blackmailing tactics with each one of her three older sons. The blackmail and drama never got old.

Just as Amenze walked away from her mother, her father walked in. “Who is getting married?” he peered through the upper portion of his bifocals, first at his wife and then at his daughter.

At sixty-five years old, Dr Giwa-Amu was a renowned consultant gynaecologist who had delivered many prominent Benin men and women. His private fertility and maternity clinic, Giwa-Amu Clinic, next door to their residence, was the foremost private gynaecology clinic in the kingdom. For that reason, the city’s authorities named their street Giwa-Amu Crescent.

Her parents were very different. Amenze frequently wondered why her father married her mother. He was gentle and soft-spoken, and she was the complete opposite.

“No one is getting married, Dad.” Amenze walked up to her tired-looking father and kissed his cheek. “Welcome, Dad. How was your day at the clinic?”

“It was good, thank you.” He stroked her cheek affectionately as she pulled away. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am, just a little tired.” Amenze feigned a smile. He looked at her long and hard to show he didn’t believe her, but didn’t push the matter.

As her father strolled further into the living room and settled himself in his favourite seat, the lazy-boy recliner, he and her mum exchanged mumbled greetings that would make anyone think they had a lovers’ tiff, but Amenze understood her parents well enough by now to appreciate this was their standard way of saluting each other. Also, they had seen each other over dinner as her dad made it a habit to take a break and come home to eat lunch and dinner with his wife.

“Dr Giwa-Amu, I am glad you’re home. I was just having a chat with Amenze. Both her friends, the Alile girls, are married. Oloi Eki will soon become a mother, while Amenze plans to end her relationship instead of trying to get her boyfriend to propose. She is living in the United Kingdom. Who finds a husband in the UK? You remember your cousins, now in their forties and still unmarried?”

Amenze sighed and quietly left the room. After last night, she wouldn’t stick around to hear all of that. Her father could take her place tonight.

“Poor Dad,” she mumbled as she climbed the stairs and went to her bedroom. “But better you than me, Dad.” She stifled a giggle.

Olori is now available on Amazon.

Photo credit: Canva.com

Febi was a prodigal. A prodigal daughter. She had a few things in common with the proverbial prodigal son. She left home when she had no business doing so. She returned poorer than she’d been when she set out. And most importantly, she was given a second chance to get her life and dreams back on track.

Febi lived with her older sister in the cosmopolitan city of Lagos, Nigeria. It was a world away from the small town of Osogbo where she had grown up. Her sister worked as a cabin crew member with an international airline and was frequently away from home and it was Febi’s responsibility to look after her sister’s two children.

She was a very beautiful young girl, slim and tall with endless legs and long hair that easily fell past her shoulders. She was the very epitome of beauty. Men turned to look at her everywhere she went. They not only looked but they also approached. All kinds of men were interested in Febi. Tall men and short men. Rich men and poor men. Educated men and uneducated men. Married men and unmarried men. They all wanted a piece of Febi.

Febi was not interested in men. She had her hands full looking after her sister’s children and pursuing her dreams of becoming a successful interior decorator. She was just twenty and her sister had given her a huge sum of money to launch her business not too far from home so she could be readily available to help with her niece and nephew.

No one knows for sure how, when and where Febi met Reuben. Reuben was a jobless man who had a big mouth and talked a little too much for a man. He claimed to be a government contractor and constantly talked out bidding for jobs worth hundreds of millions of naira. Anyone with eyes could see he had never seen a tenth of that money gathered in one place. Any discerning person knew that the man was a combination of a con artist and a gigolo.

He spent a lot of time with Febi at her business place. He appeared to have a lot of time on his hands, too much time for a man who was a government contractor. No one suspected he was anything to Febi other than a nuisance who hung around her office telling stories about his life, a life that seemed far removed from reality. Most people assumed that sooner or later he would disappear from Febi’s life as he had appeared.

He did disappear but it was later rather than sooner, and it wasn’t before he had done some damage. How Reuben with the sweet mouth convinced beautiful Febi to elope with him remains a mystery to most. But he did. Family, friends, and neighbours were shocked to learn that Febi’s sister had returned from one of her work trips abroad and was frantically looking for her. Febi had shut down her business place, sold everything in it, cleared out her belongings in her sister’s home, and disappeared into thin air.

She had run off with Reuben, a man more than ten years her senior. A jobless man full of dreams which he talked about endlessly while sitting on his backside instead of working hard to achieve them. Reuben did not have a penny to his name and relied on everything Febi had earned from her business or received as a gift from her sister. Febi had run off with Reuben, hoping he would marry her, and they would start a family together.

For about four years, no member of Febi’s family knew where she was. All they knew was that she had eloped with this smooth talker, Reuben. They also knew that she wasn’t missing so they sent out no search party and neither was her disappearance reported to the police. As the family were Christians, prayers were frequently said for her.

It took four years before Febi came to her senses. Four years of hardship. Four years of lack and want. And after four years, just like the prodigal son made his way home to his father, Febi made her way back to her older sister’s house from where she had eloped. She did not return alone however, she returned with two little girls, her daughters born to Reuben.

In most cultures in Nigeria, it is a shameful thing, for a woman to have children out of wedlock. If Reuben had married her, even during the time they eloped and albeit without the consent of her family, it would have been a better deal but there was no marriage with Reuben and yet she had two children for him. If she had one child it would have been better, but two children? Who would marry her with two children? These were the thoughts in the hearts of everyone as Febi moved from her sister’s house back to her parents’ home.

As far as everyone was concerned, it was over for Febi where marriage was concerned. Her father, naturally, was very angry because he had been denied the honour of walking her down the aisle and giving her to her husband. She had brought him two grandchildren born to a man who was a total stranger to him and who never deemed it fit to come to him asking for her hand in marriage, as the custom demands.

In the years that followed, Febi resigned to live the life of a desolate woman, the life of a widow (whichever is worse) in the house of her father. She became an object of mockery and ridicule. People mocked and sneered at her face and behind her back. She accepted this without complaint, never bothering to answer those who reviled her. She got a job so she could provide for her children, and she threw herself into service to God. She rededicated her life to God and from that point she did not look back. She had no true friends as everyone was critical of her past and had concluded on her future and so God became everything to her.

As Febi’s new romance with the God who can do the impossible blossomed, a young man in her office began to take an interest in her. This was strange to Febi because people had concluded that even if by some stroke of luck, a man was to take interest in her, he would be a single father. Well, this man had never been married and had no children, so Febi felt the need to explain to him her peculiar circumstances, while it was still early days. She made it crystal clear that she was not the kind of woman he wanted to be in a relationship with. Well, the more she pushed him away, the more he appeared to be determined to marry her.

A few months later, Febi was married to this wonderful man she met at work. Her father had the honour of receiving her bride price and he also had the honour of walking her down the aisle. Her dignity within her family was restored. All naysayers and mockers were silenced.

God loves all His little girls. This is the conclusion of the matter. Even when they have messed things up and think they can no longer have the kind of future they once desired, God steps in to prove them wrong.

One woman has said, “If you think you’ve blown God’s plan for your life, rest in this. You, my beautiful friend, are not that powerful.” How true.

-The End-

© Eturuvie Erebor. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Photo credit: Canva.com

My name is Ogechi, it means God’s time. I came to appreciate the meaning of my name in recent times. Life was originally beautiful. The things some struggled to get seemed to come to me with ease. At the age of twenty-three when many of my age mates were still in school or trying to find some direction in life, I married my first crush, Dele Ajayi.

I felt on top of the world, and why not? I had been born with exquisite looks, was intelligent, had studied Catering and Hotel Management had a thriving business and was getting married to my first crush. Life was good. Little did I know that my joy would turn to sorrow and my fairytale would become a nightmare.

So many things were wrong with our union. Too many to mention here. From the get-go, we were standing on a very shaky foundation. Our marriage was quicksand threatening to bury me alive.

In the first two years of our marriage, I got pregnant twice but lost both pregnancies after two months and three months respectively. Initially, Dele showed great understanding and was ever supportive. But after I lost the third pregnancy everything changed.

Dele began to withdraw. I sensed it even before I noticed the uncommon behaviour. Yes, his behaviour had become odd. He began to act out of character. For one thing, he stopped taking his phone calls in my presence. That was not all. He started returning home later than usual and forbade me from ever answering his phone calls. I noticed that a particular number called him the most, the name of the caller showed up as Lisa from Work.

In the beginning, I did not take this as a serious issue because we were supposed to be good Christians. I shudder to think how naïve I was. My husband started travelling and being away from town much longer than his usual two days monthly routine check on the other branches of the company. Gradually, from two days out of town, it increased to two weeks out of town, and then one month out of town. When I tried to discuss my observations with him, we had the biggest quarrel in the history of our marriage and for the first time called in his parents, who lived in the same town to settle us.

To my surprise, I was blamed and accused of trying to hinder his career advancement. Unknown to me, at the time, all his actions had been orchestrated by his family and my offence was that after three years of marriage, I had not produced a child. Suspecting that something was very wrong, I diverted calls on his other phone to my phone and that was when I found out that I had been living with a stranger, I called my husband.

I received a diverted call from Lisa from Work. She assumed Dele had answered the call and asked him to please see her that day as she had taken two pregnancy tests and was confirmed two months pregnant.

That day Dele returned home and told me that he was travelling for one week to South Africa for a marketing conference organized by an American pharmaceutical company. The conference was a big deal and naturally, I was happy for him. Together we prayed for journey mercies and God’s blessings and in the morning, he left for the airport.

One week later, he had not returned and had not called. I was feeling a little worried, but I waited another two days before paying a visit to his office where I was informed that Dele had since returned from the conference, which had lasted only three days. I was also informed that he had been coming to the office.

I was in a state of shock and confusion as I left his office. I went to his father’s house to inform his family of my discovery but to my surprise, I was not even allowed to enter the family house. Not knowing what else to do I went to see my pastor and we prayed and asked God to intervene and save my marriage.

All attempts to reach Dele on the phone failed, and his family members were no longer taking my calls. The news got to me that he was living with his ex-girlfriend, Lisa from Work. She was already visibly pregnant. I had lost a five-year-old marriage to barrenness.

Dele lived in great affluence with his mistress and news about them, as the current celebrated couple was all over Lagos. I remained in our house praying and asking God to restore my marriage. Three months later I was sent the dreaded divorce papers. I read them with unsteady hands and a racing heart. Dele was filing for divorce. That was not enough. He confronted me face-to-face and told me to be reasonable and move on with my life because his life was now better and more meaningful without me.

I wept. I begged him. I sent friends and fellow Christians to him, but he refused to have anything to do with me. He said that he was convinced by “his spirit” that I was a mistake. He said by revelation they (he and his family) saw that I was married in the marine world and was wasting his life and time. After all the attempts to reason with him failed, I signed the divorce papers.

A few months later, I ran into his driver who told me that Dele’s mistress had lost the baby she was carrying, and this was leading him to excessive drinking. Call me a fool if you like but I still cared for him so I sent an email to him consoling him and assuring him that God will give him a child.

Two years later, my over-merciful landlord asked me to leave the house as I could not afford to renew the rent. I had nowhere to live so I was forced to go back to my parents’ house. I only lived with my parents for a month before I experienced the humiliation that a failed marriage can create. I lost all respect; I was mocked openly and called a pregnancy-sucking witch.

Unable to take it anymore, I left my parents’ house and began to move from one friend’s house to another. That also wasn’t easy, but one day God stepped in and right on time too. He intervened just when suicide was becoming sensible to me. After two years of being out of a five-year marriage, I decided to bake a wedding cake for a friend even though I had stopped attending marriage celebrations because of shame and had begun to avoid touching children because I was convinced that I was cursed.

When I agreed to bake my friend a wedding cake, I did not know that it would be the turning point in my story. On the wedding day, I was asked to talk about the cake, and when I finished a man walked up to me and introduced himself as Engr. David Edoziem. He asked if he could sit with me. I responded with a half-hearted, “Yes”.

He sat down and proceeded to tell me that he was a businessman in town for some government business and had been invited to the wedding by the state’s deputy governor. We got talking, and that conversation produced my second husband whom I am still happily married to.

After I told him the story of my life, he responded by saying that with all his success he had not found the time to marry and if I agreed to let him be my first son he would marry me. I laughed because it was the funniest thing I had heard in a long time. I laughed because I thought it was a joke. It was not a joke. The man was serious. Six weeks later we were married.

After my experience with Dele, it was difficult to comprehend that a man could love me and accept me knowing that I could not give him a child. But David made it clear, in words and actions, that he wanted me, with or without a child. If I was worried each time my period came, it was because I wanted to be a mother and not because I wanted to save my marriage. My marriage was very safe. David loved me. It was clear to all. I tried to be happy and accept my barrenness and move on. But little did I know that God was not done with me. Five years into my marriage, I became pregnant and gave birth to our beautiful son whom we named, Isaac. How amazing is that?

When I look back on my twelve-year journey to motherhood, I have great appreciation for my name Ogechi, meaning God’s time. Yes, God has a time for everything, and He will not be rushed. His time does not follow human plan or analysis. I was married to my first husband Dele for five years and spent two years begging and praying for him to return to me. Then I married David, my destiny and soulmate, for five years, totalling twelve years, before baby Isaac came. Twelve years of waiting to hold my baby in my arms. Twelve years of thinking it would never happen. But finally, in God’s time, it did.

-The End-

© Eturuvie Erebor. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Canva.com

Ada was a prostitute. But that was about to change. One night she had an encounter that changed her life forever. She was at her usual spot when a young man approached her. They agreed on a price for the night, and she got into his car and went home with him.

At his house, he switched on the television to keep her entertained, little did he know that it would do more than that. With nothing else to do Ada sat in front of the television, watching passively. It wasn’t long before a popular televangelist came on the screen. As Ada watched him preach, the Holy Spirit began to convict her. She felt uneasy. She had to leave at once. If she left, she knew the consequences, she would not get paid, but that did not bother her. Her customer must have thought her behaviour very strange, but he did not try to stop her as she picked up her handbag and hastily left his house.

If she thought that leaving his house would help her get rid of the televangelist, she was wrong, his voice haunted her all the way home and even within the four walls of her small apartment she could hear his voice ringing in her ears. She had to give her life to Christ; she had to get out of a life of sin, she had to put an end to prostitution. She could not go on like this. Hell was real, and she did not want to go to hell. She went to bed but could not sleep. When she woke up, she began to think of a business she could do. Prostitution was over for her. She would never go back. She was determined. She took out her purse and counted the money in it. All she had was three thousand naira. There was no money in the bank, and so this was it, everything. She sighed deeply.

“Lord, I do not want to go back to prostitution. What can I do with this money so that I will have enough to pay my bills?”

Suddenly, it occurred to her that she could sell second-hand clothes. So, she got dressed and went to the market. The market where the second-hand clothes were sold in wholesale quantity was very far from her house. By the time she arrived, she had used up more than half the money on her. What was left would not get her home let alone buy any items for her to go and resell. However, she was not perturbed. She moved around in the market until she came to a certain man. She felt a prompting to approach him, and so she did. After explaining her desire to begin the trade, she asked the man to give her items amounting to a hundred and fifty thousand naira. She assured him that once sold, his money would be paid into his bank account. After some negotiations, he finally agreed.

“I have never done this before,” he told her. “But I sense that God is asking me to let you take the items on credit.”

She collected the items and left. The next challenge was how to get her consignment home as the money on her would not be enough. As she contemplated what to do, a man approached, and she told him her predicament. He gave her some money, and she got her goods home. The following day she set out to sell the items, and God gave her unusual speed so that in six hours she had sold all the goods. She went to the bank to pay in the money belonging to the owner of the goods and was left with a profit which was over a hundred thousand naira. Ada was super excited. Finally, her dream of leaving prostitution had come true. But little did she know that God was not yet through with her.

On Sunday morning, she went to the church pastored by the televangelist she had seen on television, whose voice kept ringing in her ears. It was here that Ada surrendered her life to Christ. Then she shared her testimony before the entire church, and something amazing happened. The pastor and the congregation were all moved to be a blessing to Ada. She walked away from the church that Sunday with no less than two million naira.

Yes, we serve a God who is faithful. Perhaps like Ada, you are a prostitute or living in one form of sin or the other, maybe the devil has told you that there is no way out and that God will not help you because you are a sinner. Well, you are the reason Jesus hung on that cross. God loves you more than you think. Yes, even in that sinful state God loves you, and He wants to bring you out. Go on your knees and talk to Him. Right now. He will hear you. And He will make a way of escape for you just like He did for Ada.

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Amnon was the first son of David, king of Israel and he was born into a leadership position because as the firstborn of his father, he was the head of his siblings and his father’s household. Also, he should have become king and leader of Israel after his father’s death. He began as a leader amongst his siblings and would have moved to become the leader of the nation Israel, but due to bad leadership at the home front, he never reigned as king, an assignment he was born for.

Amnon’s trouble began when he fell in love with his half-sister Tamar, Absalom’s sister. Amnon clearly could not control what he felt for his beautiful virgin sister and became sick. He had a friend, Jonadab whom the Bible describes as a subtil man. Jonadab was curious and wanted to know why Amnon’s health deteriorated daily, and Amnon proceeded to tell Jonadab that he was in love with Tamar, Absalom’s sister. Being a crafty man, Jonadab advised Amnon to pretend to be sick and request that his sister Tamar be sent to his house to cook him a meal. Amnon followed the advice of Jonadab, and when his father, David, sent Tamar to his home to prepare him a meal, he seized the opportunity of being alone with her and raped her.

Unfortunately, he did not think much of the consequences of his actions. Perhaps as the king’s first son and the future king of Israel, he thought he could get away with the deed but, not so, he paid dearly for it with his life because Absalom killed him for the act of wickedness against his sister, Tamar. And so Amnon died a king and a leader who was born to reign but, never did.

There are several leadership qualities that Amnon lacked which reveal why he failed in his first duty as a leader in his father’s house and why he would have been a bad king had he sat on the throne after David, his father.

In John Maxwell’s book, “The 21 Indispensable Qualities of a Leader”, he lists certain qualities that every leader should have. The Bible’s record of the events reveals that Amnon lacked these qualities, but I will highlight only a few of them here.

One leadership quality he lacked was character. Like Samson, he was a leader who could not lead himself, and as a result, he died without an opportunity to ascend the throne and lead the nation of Israel.

The second leadership quality he lacked was commitment. He claimed to love Tamar, but when it was time to commit to her, he failed to follow through.

Three, he was not a focused person. His lust for Tamar was a massive distraction from the throne he should have been pursuing, but he failed to see it because he had no focus, to begin with. His lack of focus eventually caused him to lose the throne.

The fourth leadership quality he lacked was that of listening. He was not a man who listened to those he led. Tamar tried to warn him of the mistake he was making in sending her away after defiling her, but he paid no attention to what she had to say and paid dearly for it.

The fifth leadership quality he lacked was self-discipline; his failure to control his lust for his sister and his act of violently raping her prove this.

The sixth leadership quality he lacked was servanthood. His leadership position as the firstborn of his father should have been used to serve his siblings and other members of his father’s household, but it was used to serve his selfish purpose and desires to the detriment of those he led. This is anything but leadership. Little wonder he never made it to the throne as the leader of God’s people, Israel.

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I was exhausted as I journeyed from Garki to Asokoro that Friday evening. Just as I entered the Fort IBB premises, where I lived, a blue Volvo pulled up beside me. The driver was a young man I saw on the estate every so often, although we never spoke to each other.

“Hello,” he greeted. “Can I give you a ride to your house?”

He knew my house; it was just a few houses away from his. I knew this because although we did not speak to each other, he was usually in front of his house washing his car as I walked past in the mornings on my way to work. Therefore, he was not a stranger, and I needed the ride, so I accepted.

“Thank you,” I said as I opened the door and got in.

He smiled. “It is my pleasure.”

He was silent at first, which I thought was good as I was not in the mood for conversation of any sort. However, just as he pulled up in front of my house, he turned to me and spoke.

“I know this is very short notice, but I am attending a friend’s birthday party tonight. He is one of the president’s children. Would you like to come? I know you are tired, but I thought you might like to hang out with young people like yourself. It’s at the Aso Rock Villa and I will pick you up and drop you off.”

“The Presidential Villa?” I asked, not sure if I had heard him correctly.

He nodded.

Immediately all the tiredness I felt was gone. It wasn’t every day that one got invited to a party at the Aso Rock Presidential Villa. I was not going to miss it for the world. I was tired but not that tired.

We agreed that he would return in two hours to pick me up, so I jumped out of the car and went inside to prepare. I knew exactly what I wanted to wear. A red party dress and a black pair of shoes. I had been itching for an occasion to wear them and the occasion had presented itself. I was excited. The president’s son was celebrating his birthday, and I had been invited. I was like one in a dream as I prepared for the party. When Obi showed up, I was completely transformed. I remember as I opened the door he was standing on the other side and stepped back in surprise. Gone was the tired, worn-out young woman he had dropped off two hours ago.

He raised a brow. “Wow. You look good. I have no doubt you will be the cynosure of all eyes tonight,” he complimented me.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

We walked to the car where three other girls were waiting. He introduced us to each other as he opened and held the back door for me to get in. As we drove to the villa the girls conversed with one another. I remained silent except for when Obi asked me a direct question. Inside of my heart, I was speaking to God. You see I have always loved fairy tale romance. And as I rode in Obi’s car to the birthday party of the president’s son, I fancied myself to be Cinderella going to the ball to meet her prince. I wanted to be the belle of the ball and I wanted to dance with the celebrant, and these were the things I was talking to God about, so I had no time for idle chat.

As we approached the main gate of the villa, Obi told us to each take a fake name or what he called a security name. He warned that we were not to use our real names during the party. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t ask why. I didn’t care why. All I cared about was dancing with the celebrant. I took a name in my head but didn’t share it with anyone else in the vehicle. Then I noticed that a car suddenly drove up from behind us and went ahead of us to the gate. The driver, a young man, said something to the security men at the gate and they let us through. We followed the car observing the same protocol at every gate we came to and finally we pulled up in front of a large duplex house where the party was to be held.

The young man who had led us through all the gates got out of his vehicle and began to walk towards us. He was dressed in khaki three-quarter shorts and a short-sleeved polo shirt. Obi got out to meet him and they both shook hands and said something to each other that wasn’t audible from where I was sitting, and they laughed and shook hands again. I didn’t know who he was but judging from the way he led us through all the security points at the villa with ease, I knew he had more influence at the villa than Obi did and that he must certainly be closer to the president’s son than Obi was.

They talked for a while and Obi walked to the car and asked us to come down. I was the last to alight and Obi did a quick one-way introduction. He told us his friend’s name which I gathered was Tolu, but he didn’t tell Tolu our names. All he said was, “These are my friends and guests.” Perhaps that was because he didn’t want to give away our real names or mix up our fake names. I do not know but I observed that the information was sufficient for Tolu. We were ushered into the party, and I looked for a place to sit. I noticed that a few heads turned to look at me and follow me as I took my seat. Thankfully, the room was not very full, or I would have missed my step. I sat and Tolu sat next to me and began to chat me up.

This is not good. I immediately thought to myself.

If the president’s son comes and sees us together, he may think we are an item, and I may never get that dance.

I did my best to be nasty to Tolu. Not too nasty so he would get offended but nasty enough so he would know I did not want him around me. At first, he acted like he was thick in the head but eventually, he got the message and left me alone and went to mingle with other guests. I heaved a deep sigh of relief. I was grateful to God and said as much. But I began to wonder where the celebrant was and when he would make an appearance at his own party.

Then someone came in and asked everyone to be seated as the President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria was on his way to spend some time at the party. I sucked in my breath sharply. This was the moment I was waiting for. Surely, the celebrant was going to show up now that his father was coming. There was an empty seat to my right-hand side and as everyone tried to hurriedly locate a place to sit, Tolu grabbed that chair and sat down. I couldn’t stop him but to show my displeasure, I turned my body slightly away from him.

Then the president appeared in the company of two of his sons. One looked too young to be Obi’s friend, so I had my eye fixed on the older one.

Surely, he was Obi’s friend.

Surely, he was the celebrant and the one I had been waiting to meet.

The one I had been waiting to dance with.

I kept my eyes fixed on him and did not hear any word the president said.

Until he said, “Where is the birthday boy by the way?”

What kind of question is that? He is standing next to you. You came in together did you not?

As I was having my internal dialogue in response to the president’s question, Tolu walked forward moving towards the president.

I chuckled. “Look at this foolish boy. Just because he is close to the president’s son and has some influence in the villa, he now fancies himself to be the birthday boy the president is referring to.”

“The SSS will pick you up in a minute,” I muttered under my breath.

However, nothing of the sort happened. Instead, as he approached, I saw the president open his arms wide.

“Oh! There he is!” he said, and they embraced amidst cheers from everyone. Well, everyone except me.

I felt like a complete and total idiot. How could I have been so blind? Just at that moment, they both turned towards my direction, and I was startled at the family resemblance. How could I have missed that? I thought.

“Oh, Tega. You have blown it big time,” I said to myself, and I was glad when we were all asked to take our seats again as I didn’t trust my legs to continue to carry me.

The president addressed us for a few minutes, thanking us for coming and then he looked at Tolu and said, “I am sure the birthday boy would like to open the floor. There are lots of beautiful girls here so pick one and open the floor.”

I watched with my heart racing in my chest as once again Tolu walked straight towards me.

Perhaps I still had a chance, I thought.

Perhaps I had not completely blown it with him.

I knew he liked me. I could tell he was attracted to me; he had not been able to leave my side thus far. And now he was coming towards me.

Surely, he was coming to choose me for the dance.

I was certain that he was and everyone in the room had their eyes on me as Tolu reached me. Our eyes locked for less than a second and then he turned to the girl on my left and held out a hand towards her.

As she followed him to the dance floor, I wanted the ground to open and swallow me up. I was highly embarrassed. He had done that on purpose. I saw it in his eyes. He didn’t care about her he just wanted to pay me back for how I had treated him. The party ended for me at that point. I politely turned down other requests to dance and went in search of Obi. I had become tired again. My head ached as did my heart and every part of my body. I wanted to crawl into bed and cry my eyes out. I was glad I would never have to see anyone in this crowd again.

I put the incident behind me and moved on with my life. Then three months later, Obi suddenly showed up at my workplace. I had not seen him in three months because following my humiliation at Tolu’s party, I had avoided Obi like the plague and rather than walk past the front of his house, I had taken a different route to and from work. It had worked. I hadn’t seen him. Until now.

I tried to hide my surprise and act as professionally as I could.

“Hello, Obi. How are you?” I asked. Before he could answer, I added. “This is quite a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you. What brings you here?”

He smiled and took a seat. At that point I mentally berated myself. I should have offered him a seat.

Professional indeed! I scoffed.

“Oh, yes. Please sit down.” I said breathlessly, as I also sat down.

Fortunately, he didn’t bring up anything about Tolu’s party or mention the fact that he hadn’t seen me in months. We talked like old friends trying to catch up and the visit ended with him inviting me to a party at Defence House. I accepted. Don’t ask me why, because now that I think of it, I do not know myself. But perhaps, the part of me that had come to like Tolu, the part that had not stopped thinking of Tolu, hoped that maybe just maybe I would see Tolu again and get a second chance.

Later that evening, I dressed carefully in black skin-tight leather pants and black halter neck top and black Pierre Cardin stiletto-heeled sandals. I wanted to look my best just in case I ran into Tolu at the party. Tolu was an officer in the Nigerian Army and deployed in Jos at the time although he spent some of his time off in Abuja. Obi had not mentioned anything about him during our conversation and I didn’t ask so I couldn’t say for sure that he would be at this party. I just hoped that he would.

Obi was on time to pick me up and we drove to a house in the Maitama district. Obi explained that because of the security at Defence House, we needed someone to take us in and we would remain here and wait for that someone. I didn’t ask who this someone was, but I had a funny sense of Deja Vu as Obi suddenly said, “Here he is now,” and started to get out of the car.

I remained inside and did not turn to look but suddenly someone was opening my door and so I had to turn and once again after three months I found myself staring into those eyes that had haunted me every single moment of every day the last three months.

I stepped out of the car and Obi was the first to speak. “Tega, I am sure that you remember my friend Tolu.”

Remember? I asked the question in my head. How could I forget?

I smiled and reached out a hand. “Yes, I do. Hello Tolu.”

His eyes never left mine and I suddenly became very self-conscious. “It is lovely to meet you again Tega.”

I do not know for how long we remained like that but then Obi spoke once again dragging us back to the present.

“I think we need to leave now. Perhaps Tega should ride with you in your car, and I will follow behind.”

“Good idea,” Tolu said giving Obi a thumbs up.

It all happened very first and before I could make any sense of what they were saying let alone agree or protest, I was being ushered to Tolu’s Peugeot 504 salon car. He shut the door behind me, spoke to Obi for less than a minute and then he was behind the wheel, and we were driving off. Where to? I had no idea. I turned my head to look behind for any sign of Obi.

“Don’t worry. He is coming,” Tolu assured me, and we both lapsed into silence.

Less than half an hour later, we were in the Aso Rock Presidential Villa, pulling up in front of a house which I presumed was the party venue although I was a little surprised because Obi had given me the impression that the party was at Defence House. He never said anything about the party being at the villa. Why were we at the villa? Where was Obi? I turned around to look again and this time my eyes met with Tolu’s. I could see some guilt, but I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

He dropped his head into his hands and sighed.

“He is not coming; he has gone home.”

I didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. I knew what he was talking about.

He looked up at me.

“There is no party, anywhere. It was just a set-up. I wanted to see you again.”

I held my breath. I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or angry.

I released my breath very slowly and looked at him.

“If you wanted to see me again, you could have said so.”

“Really?” He asked like he wasn’t convinced that method would have worked. “Would you have wanted to see me, after how I treated you?”

Then it all came back to me. That moment when I had been humiliated in front of all the guests at the party. I felt my anger brewing. I think he felt it too, because he leaned forward and cupped my face in his hands so he could look into my eyes.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I am sorry. I like you a lot. I think you know that already. I don’t know why but you were very cold to me, and I wanted to see how you’d react if I danced with another girl. I wanted to know if you liked me. Then when I saw your reaction, I felt like an idiot. I haven’t stopped thinking of you. I returned to Abuja the following month to see you and apologise but Obi said you had gone home to your family for the Christmas holidays and that you wouldn’t be back until January. This is the second time off I have had and when Obi said you were in town, I did everything including scheme to make sure I had an audience with you. I am sorry.”

I eyed him suspiciously.

“Sorry about what exactly?” I wanted to know. “Sorry that you humiliated me in front of your guests or sorry that you have connived with Obi to lie to me and deceive me?” I tried to fix him with one of my stern looks but it didn’t work out as I planned. I ended up looking like a clown at a circus.

He opened his mouth to speak and then burst out laughing. I had to join despite myself.

“Both,” he said and then he stopped laughing and cupped my face in his hands once again. “I am sorry for humiliating you. I am sorry for lying to you and deceiving you. I like you a lot Tega. I haven’t stopped thinking about you and I want to start afresh. What can I do to make it up to you?” he asked.

“You want to know?” I asked, starting to feel a tiny bit mischievous.

“Yes,” he answered but not before eyeing me warily.

Then I told him. He had ruined my chance to be the belle of the ball and dance with the prince and if we were going to start afresh, he would have to make it up. He was happy to do this, but he also demanded that I change my earlier responses to his advances. We agreed to go back to that very instance when Obi introduced all four ladies to him, and he singled me out for a chat. As we got out of the car relived the moment, I was amazed at how much he remembered. It had been three months, but he remembered every single word he had spoken to me that night.

Unlike that night, my responses were different. Now I knew he was my prince, the one I had come to meet with and dance with. I did not give him answers that pushed him away but I drew him close with every word. Then just as the clock struck midnight, he leaned into the car and put a tape in the car stereo and suddenly, the song, “I want it that way” by Backstreet Boys filled the air.

He turned towards me his eyes never leaving mine and smiled as he drew me into his arms and sang along with the band,

“You are my fire. The one desire. Believe when I say, I want it that way….”

This time there were no guests to watch us as we danced, my prince and me. Just the peacocks and of course, the stars.

-The End-

 

© Eturuvie Erebor. All Rights Reserved.

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It was the year 1999. It was hmm, I think, the month of March. It was a Saturday morning and yes, it was me, Kome Edomero, behind the wheels of the metallic grey Honda Accord saloon. I was travelling from Benin to my village in Iyede for the final stage of my grandfather’s funeral rites. This stage involved the in-law’s greeting. All the men who had married my grandfather’s daughters attended this ceremony with members of their extended families to celebrate the life of the man who had been their father-in-law. It was usually a lavish affair as the in-laws used it to showcase their affluence and influence. I was looking forward to it as I made my way out of Benin.

It was the first time I would drive outside Benin, and I was excited and apprehensive at the same time. I had my younger sister Keme in the front passenger seat and my Aunt Zuazo in the back seat. Keme did nothing to help my apprehension. She did everything to heighten it, and there were countless moments I wished she was not in the car. I put some music on hoping that would calm her down. And it did but now and then she would glance at the speedometer, look at me and then look away.

As we left Benin and hit the express road, my driving became steadier and everyone seemed to calm down and get lost in their thoughts, thankfully. Then the unexpected happened. At first, I wasn’t sure what it was, but I heard a loud bang and then it was almost as if I had lost control of the steering wheel. It no longer felt the same in my hands, and I wasn’t sure why. I stepped on my brakes gradually to reduce my speed but even that felt a little strange. Finally, the car came to a halt by the side of the road. Immediately, I looked at Keme and then my aunt. They looked shaken but fine. I took off my seat belt, climbed out of the car and went around it to see what the issue was. Then I realised what had happened. The shaft had come off.

“Oh my God!” I groaned.

“What is it?” Keme sounded every bit as alarmed as she looked as she struggled to get out of the car.

As she saw what I had seen, her eyes widened.

“My goodness!” she exclaimed and looked at me. “What are we going to do?”

Before I could answer, Aunty Zuazo had joined us.

“Hmm,” she grunted. “We won’t leave here today.”

I rolled my eyes. Did she always have to be so negative? I wondered.

I examined the broken shaft. My head was spinning as I wondered what the next line of action would be. We had just left Sapele but had not quite reached the next major town, Warri when this unfortunate incident took place. No doubt we required a mechanic to fix this shaft. But where would we find one without making a trip to Warri or Sapele? And how would we get a ride to either Warri or Sapele from this point? We were in the middle of nowhere. There was no help in sight. Trying to stop a vehicle from here to get to either Warri or Sapele was pointless as no one would stop. Everyone was afraid for their lives so when people travelled, they did not stop on the road to help anyone for fear of being attacked and robbed or even killed. I sighed and ran one hand through my braided hair. This situation was a lot more serious than I realised when I first jumped out of the car.

“What do we do now?” Aunt Zuazo asked me.

I did not reply but shook my head to indicate that I had no idea what to do. Even if I decided to tow the vehicle back to Benin for repairs, I would still need to leave this spot to go into the nearest town to find a tow truck. And so far, leaving this spot was looking more and more impossible.

I sighed and looked up to heaven. I knew God answered prayers. He had answered me many times before and given me a miracle when I needed it most. Well, I certainly needed one now. I said a silent prayer. I was a little confused and not sure what I needed so I didn’t get specific. I just asked him to send an angel to help me.

He heard and answered without delay because as soon as I was done praying in my heart, a Mercedes Benz 200 V-boot saloon pulled up in front of us. The car had gone past us on top speed, then it pulled off the road made a U-turn came to where we stood and stopped.

Three men got out of the car. There were three of them but at that instant, my eyes saw only one man. He was the angel. I was certain of it. Don’t ask me how. He was tall, and yes, he was dark and handsome. He looked Hausa and had on a white brocade kaftan with a matching cap. From the moment he got out our eyes met and held. He walked towards me his hand stretched out to shake mine.

“Hi,” he greeted. “I am Hamza. I am here to help.”

I heaved a sigh of relief that was so deep it didn’t go unnoticed. Hamza laughed, revealing perfect white teeth.

“As I drove by, I couldn’t help but notice three women in distress standing by a broken-down vehicle. You looked so helpless I had to come back. And I am glad I did.” At this point, he took his eyes off mine for a moment and looked at Keme and Aunt Zuazo. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Aunty Zuazo greeted with a lot of enthusiasm, drowning Keme’s greeting in the process. I could not help but roll my eyes. “We are so glad to see you,” Aunt Zuazo continued. “We had no idea what to do next. Thank you very much for coming to our aid.”

“Not a problem at all, Madam. It’s my pleasure.”

Hamza remembered his companions just then and made the necessary introductions. Then, without much ado, he got back in his vehicle and drove to the nearest town to fetch a mechanic. He went with one friend while the other friend waited with us. He was Umar. He didn’t talk very much to me or Aunt Zuazo but spent a great deal of time chatting with Keme. Hamza soon returned with a mechanic who thoroughly examined the vehicle before going back with Hamza to get the parts required to fix the broken shaft.

Hamza was God sent to us. He not only went out of his way to get a mechanic, but he also picked up the entire bill. I tried to insist it was not necessary and it wasn’t as I had money on me to foot the bill. But my arguments fell on deaf ears, and I realised one moment before Aunt Zuazo pinched me hard that I was starting to sound like an ingrate. So, I smiled sweetly, and said, thank you.

And oh, lest I forget, he bought us lunch.

-The End-

 

© Eturuvie Erebor. All Rights Reserved

How Did Liz Murray Go From Homeless to Harvard? What Lessons Can We Learn?

Liz Murray is an American inspirational speaker who went from homeless to Harvard University. She is the founder and director of Manifest Living and one of the most highly sought-after motivational speakers in the world. She is the author of the International Bestseller titled Breaking Night: My Journey from Homeless to Harvard, and a movie has been made about her life, titled, Homeless to Harvard: The Liz Murray Story. Liz was born and raised in the Bronx. She had loving parents, but they were poor and addicted to drugs. This meant that as Liz grew up she would often go without food and was regularly absent from school. As a result, she found it a challenge to connect education to a future that was possible and unlike her present and past. A friend of the family named Arthur would step into Liz’s life and not only mentor her but change the course of her life. As he was a neighbour he was always available to help her with her schoolwork. He began to take her out on day trips and show her places and a life that was different from what she had experienced up to that point. He helped her to see that she could be more and do more and that if she had dreams for a better life they were not out of her reach. Her parents would eventually contract HIV/AIDS leading to the demise of her mother when Liz was only 15 years old. Following the death of her mother, her father moved to a homeless shelter. Arthur, who was her mentor and guide, died suddenly from a heart condition, and Liz was left all alone to face life and the challenges it would throw at her. She became homeless when she was only 15 and in high school.  She would sleep in stairwells and shoplift food to eat. But as she navigated life’s problems going forward, Arthur’s voice remained in her head and helped her make the right choices. She would go on to be accepted into Harvard University after graduating from Humanities Preparatory Academy in Manhattan, and she was awarded a New York Times scholarship for needy students. She took a break from Harvard to care for her sick father but returned to complete her studies graduating in 2009.  In 2013, she was awarded an honorary doctorate of public service and gave the commencement speech at Merrimack College,  Massachusetts. Liz Murray is currently a passionate advocate for underserved youth. She is married and has two children (Wikipedia).

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Leadership Lessons from the Life of Liz Murray

1. Leaders are optimistic and able to see the good in adverse situations. In the book, Hero, by Rhonda Byrne, Liz Murray stated that when her life changed very quickly at the age of 15, with the deaths of her mother and Arthur, the loss of their home and her father becoming estranged, she felt that if life could change for the worse possibly it could also change for the better. Leaders are people with hope. Are you optimistic? Are you able to see the good in negative people and situations?
2. Every leader begins their leadership journey by being a good follower. We all need a guide, someone who has been where we want to go either physically or mentally. Liz needed Arthur to guide her, to change the trajectory of her life, to show her what was possible, and to challenge her to seek things that were different from what she was accustomed to. Who is guiding you? Who are you following? Where are they leading you?
3. Great leaders will step outside their comfort zone and continuously operate outside their comfort zone. We do not grow if we remain inside our comfort zone. No dream is achieved within our comfort zone. The things that we desire to achieve are outside our comfort zone, and to attain them we must step out of the familiar and away from what is comfortable. When Arthur took Liz on day trips and showed her a better life, he was challenging her not just to desire it but to want it so badly that she would be willing to step outside of her comfort zone to obtain it. Have you ever stepped outside your comfort zone? Have you been afraid to do something and did it anyway?
4. Great leaders reach back to help others. Liz shares her story all around the world, primarily to motivate others. She is a passionate advocate for underserved youth. When great leaders achieve their dreams, they reach back to help others achieve theirs. Who are you helping? How are you using your experiences to enrich the lives of others?
5. High achievers are people with lofty dreams. They are dreamers; they dream of a better life; they dream of contributing to humanity. They are constantly dreaming. Every achievement starts with a dream. Until you dream it, you can’t achieve it. In the book, Hero, Liz shares how she would sleep in stairwells using her book bag as a pillow. She states that as she lay her head on that book bag she would dream of a better life. The life she has today began with a dream. What you dream, you will become. Are you dreaming? Are your dreams big enough? Do they excite you and move you to take action?
6. High achievers follow through on their dreams. They understand that an idea in and of itself has no power to produce unless it is compelled to deliver by the dreamer. What separates high achievers from failures is their ability to pursue their dream until it materialises. The vision you do not pursue will not emerge. Still in the book, Hero, Liz talks about how her mother would share her dreams with her when she was a child. Yes, her mother had goals. We all have goals. But her mother never followed through on her dreams. All she did was talk and talk is cheap. Liz says that when she was done talking, her mother would declare that she would do get around to doing it. Some day she would make it happen. Well, that day never came for her as it never comes for many. She died without seeing her dreams materialise because she never took steps to make them happen. Dreams do not fulfil themselves. What steps are you taking daily towards fulfilling your goals? What steps can you take daily towards fulfilling your dreams?
7. Great leaders strive for excellence. They abhor mediocrity, and for this reason they stand out from the crowd and rise to the top in business and career. While Liz Murray was a student she desired straight A’s and so got a copy of her transcript while it was still blank –she was a new student and had no results – and she wrote in the empty transcript the grades that she wanted and then began to work towards those grades. Every time she wrote her homework, she set the transcript before her as a reminder of her goals. Making straight A’s was crucial to her; she wanted the best and was willing to pay the price for it. With an attitude like that is it any wonder she went from homeless to Harvard? Do you strive for excellence?
8. Nobody owes you anything! The day you learn this fundamental truth that all great leaders know is the day you will be unleashed into your greatness. If it is to be, it is up to you, and don’t expect anyone to pull you out of a pit you are not making a conscious effort to climb out of. Liz Murray says that she grew up thinking that nobody owed her anything. See where that line of thinking has taken her over the years. Small-minded people go through life with an entitlement mentality, and as such, are always ungrateful. But great leaders are people of gratitude because they understand that nobody owes them anything. Are you still playing victim? Have you come to the realisation that if it is to be it is up to you?
9. You are going to have to do it afraid because, as Liz Murray says, you can never get rid of fear. Fear is a part of the journey to success, and great leaders know this. Therefore, they do not allow fear dictate to them the terms in pursuit of their dreams. Do you know that great leaders often do it afraid?
10. You are enough. Great leaders realise this. They know that they are enough to bring their dream to fruition. Many think that they need something which they do not have, and it becomes a significant reason that they procrastinate and die and never see their dreams materialise. According to Liz, if you think you are not enough and that you are missing something or waiting for the right time, there is no right time. Get up and go just as you are. God said to Gideon, go in this thy might and Nike says, just do it! What would you do today if you knew you were enough?
11. Successful people know that things will not always go as planned. If you have tried to pursue a dream and failed woefully, you are in good company. If you wanted to quit, you are also in good company. Many great people have had these experiences. Liz says she got rejected to the point of almost depression. Life will test you before it allows you to have your dreams. Greatness is not for the feeble-minded. Yes, it is okay to cry, and yes, it is okay to throw in the towel, but it is never okay to leave the towel where you threw it. At some point, you must pick up the towel wipe your tears, and dare to dream again. And say to life, you are going to see what stuff I am made of. I will not be defeated! Will you dare to dream again? What dream would you have if you knew you couldn’t fail?

 

Joy Mangano is an American businesswoman, inventor, and creator of the self-wringing Miracle Mop. Like everyone else, Joy started with a dream. She became an inventor at a young age when she dreamed up a fluorescent flea collar to keep pets safe. At the time, she was a teenager working at an animal hospital in New York. Although that invention never saw the light of day, years later, in 1990, she developed the Miracle Mop, a self-wringing plastic mop. The mop was quite unlike any before it. The head was made from a continuous loop of 300 feet (90 meters) of cotton that can be squeezed out without the user touching it and getting their hands soiled in the process. Using her savings and investments from family and friends, she made a prototype and manufactured 1000 units. She began by selling the mop at trade shows and in local stores but soon had an opportunity to sell on QVC. At first, it sold moderately, but once Joy was permitted by QVC to go on-air to sell it herself, 18,000 mops were sold in less than half an hour. That was a significant breakthrough that took her business to a whole new level. A decade later her company was selling $10 million worth of Miracle Mops every year. Joy went on to produce other items including the velvet no-slip hangers which Oprah Winfrey endorsed (Wikipedia). In 2015 a movie, JOY, was made about her life, and although it is fiction many parts are factual, and even those parts which are not based on facts contain powerful lessons which are beneficial to the woman pursuing her purpose. As such they will be mentioned here.

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Leadership Lessons from the Life of Joy Mangano

1. Everyone starts with a dream of what life will be like for them. But as people grow older and are surrounded by those who find it challenging to accomplish their own desires and who will make it their business to let them know at every turn that their dreams are beyond their reach they begin to believe that it is impossible to accomplish their goals and so they settle for less. They give up the desire to live and begin to make a living like everyone else.
2. Dreamers need a team to work with them to fulfil their dreams. Joy had an idea, but she couldn’t achieve it alone. According to John C. Maxwell, one is too small of a number to achieve significance. We need other people if our dreams will become tangible. We need those who believe enough to invest in our ideas, whether it is their money, time, or skills.
3. Our pain often leads to the discovery of an idea. In the movie, Joy cuts her hand while trying to wring a mop she was using to clean a surface that was covered in liquid and broken glass. It was a painful experience, there were fragments of glass in her palms, but it caused her to think of the possibility of a mop that could wring itself. And as they say, the rest is history.
4. Ask for help. You need people; you need their help, their money, their time, and their skills. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you need to make your dream a reality. In the movie, Joy helps everyone in her family without making demands on them in return. But when it was time to bring her dream to fruition, she politely but firmly requested a return for the favours she had given. When we need help, we should not be ashamed or afraid to ask for it. We must know when to ask for support. Great women do.
5. Don’t let others speak on your behalf. In the movie, Joy’s sister spoke on her behalf and almost ruined her company. It is essential to state here that Joy has no sister in reality, but the lesson from the movie is vital, nonetheless. People who have not been authorised to speak on your behalf have no business doing so, and you have no business honouring any arrangements they made on your behalf as they were acting without your permission in the first instance.
6. There will be dark days. Night precedes day. Get ready for rejection. Not everyone will receive your ideas with open arms, and they don’t have to. But if you keep going the yes will begin to come, the doors will start to open, the day will break, and the darkness will disappear.
7. When you begin to pursue your dreams, look out for petty jealousy. In the movie, we see Joy face plenty of petty jealousy from those close to her. People will not necessarily hate what you are doing; they will just hate that it is you doing it. They will undermine what you do and say there is nothing special about it and that anybody can do it. Ignore the distractions and keep moving in the direction of your goals.
8. Naysayers will tell you that you can’t. Oh yes, prepare for that too. As you begin to act on your dreams, naysayers will spring from everywhere and tell you that you can’t embark on the journey. They will give you the reasons why you will fail. But please understand that often it is not that you can’t, as much as it is that they couldn’t. They will project their failure and regrets on you.
9. You will have to fight for what you want. It will not drop in your lap. You will have to make sacrifices. You will lose some things. In the movie, Joy almost lost her home, and she signed the papers declaring she was bankrupt. The pursuit of dreams is not easy or cheap, and that is why not everyone can see their ideas come to fruition.
10. You will have to demonstrate to those investing in you that you have what it takes. Ideas simply are not enough, no matter how good they are. There is a person that you must become to see your dreams come to fruition. If you don’t become that person, your ideas are never realised. It’s as simple as that.
11. Sometimes you must reject rejection. You have to say no to the nos. That’s what Joy did. In the movie, when the first attempt to sell her mops on QVC failed, she was informed that there was nothing more they could do for her. It was over. But she had made thousands of mops and re-mortgaged her house at this point, so she wasn’t taking no for an answer. She demanded a second chance and an opportunity to go on air to sell the mops herself. She got what she wanted. When you reject rejection, you will invariably get a second chance.
12. You will be embarrassed. Prepare to be humiliated. People are cruel, especially frustrated people who have not realised their dreams. They will laugh at you; they will mock you, and they will ridicule you. They will tell you that you are a bad wife, bad mother, bad daughter, etc. You will encounter these things. In the movie, Joy had to face humiliation before she had her big break. And I am confident that there was nothing fictional about that part of the film.
13. Sometimes you will throw in the towel. Oh yes, life will test you before it lets you have your dream. You will reach your breaking point and more often than not, you will break down and cry and throw in the towel. But you know what? That’s okay. When you’re done crying, pick up the towel, wipe your eyes, and get back in the race. That’s what Joy did.
14. Be careful when you take advice. Not everyone can give you sound advice. Don’t seek medical advice from a lawyer or legal counsel from your doctor. Do your homework. Don’t let people intimidate you because of what you don’t know. Don’t let them twist your arm to do things their way. Do your due diligence. In the movie, Joy makes costly mistakes at the commencement of her business because she accepts counsel that was given to her without doing an investigation to determine if those advising her were right. She eventually corrects the mistake but only after she has done her homework.

What happened to you? What has become of the dreams you had as a child? What would your younger self say to you? Would they thank you?

Canadian singer, songwriter, and actress Shania Twain was born on the 28th of August 1965 as Eilleen Regina Edwards to Sharon and Clarence Edwards. She was the first of three daughters. When she was two years old, her parents divorced, and her mother moved to Timmins, Ontario, with her daughters and married Jerry Twain, an Ojibwa, and together they had son, Mark. Jerry adopted Shania and her sisters, and their surname was legally changed to Twain. Jerry and Sharon later adopted Jerry’s baby nephew Darryl following the death of his mother.

Shania had a traumatic childhood. She never knew her biological father. There was always a shortage of food in their household as her mother and stepfather earned very little money. But she did not reveal her situation to school authorities, as she feared they might break up the family. She started writing songs as a young girl to escape from the negative situation in her home and to distract herself from hunger. To pay the family bills, she began singing in bars at the age of eight. The marriage between her mother and stepfather was difficult; her mother struggled with bouts of depression, and her stepfather was an alcoholic, violent, and mentally ill. One time, when Shania was about 11, Jerry beat Sharon unconscious and plunged her head into the toilet repeatedly. Shania hit him across his back with a chair. He punched her in the jaw; she hit him back. Jerry often abused Shania, physically, psychologically, and sexually but she never reported it as she couldn’t bear the family being separated. In mid-1979, however, Shania convinced her mother to drive the rest of the family 420 miles south to a Toronto homeless shelter while Jerry was at work. But in 1981, Sharon returned to Jerry with the children.

In 1983, after graduating from school, she moved to Nashville to sing country, and in 1987, she was on the brink of achieving her dreams when Jerry and her mother were killed in a car crash. She abandoned her dreams and moved back home to become a substitute mother to her four siblings and for the next six years, she supported them by singing at a local resort. In 1993, a record label signed her on, and she became known as Shania. She was an instant success, and her second album, The Woman in Me, released in 1995, sold 20 million copies worldwide and brought her widespread success.

In 2004, Twain entered a hiatus after a diagnosis of Lyme disease, and dysphonia led to a severely weakened singing voice. Twain did not make a record for 15 years. During this period, she also divorced her first husband, Robert John Lange, who had an affair with her friend. She is currently married to Frédéric Thiébaud.

With over 100 million records, she is the best-selling female artist in country music history and among the best-selling music artists of all time (Wikipedia).

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Leadership Lessons from the Life of Shania Twain

1. Sometimes our dreams are placed on hold as we serve others and help them achieve their goals. Great women are great leaders, and great leaders are great servants. Shania Twain put her dreams on hold to serve her siblings following the tragic death of both their parents. Every great person is a servant to others. No one is truly great, who does not help others.
2. While we cannot choose how our lives started, and the circumstances surrounding our birth and early years are outside our control, we can decide how our lives end. We can change the trajectory of our lives, and it is possible to rewrite our narrative. We do not have to settle. We do not have to repeat the mistakes of our parents. Shania Twain understood this and great women understand this.
3. Sometimes leaders make sacrifices to maintain the status quo. Living in a home where there was always a shortage of food supply could not have been easy. Being raised by a stepfather who abused her physically, psychologically, and sexually could not have been easy. Shania Twain could have reported the situation at home to the authorities but she chose not to because she was thinking not just about herself but about other members of her family and how the breakup of the family would impact each member. She made a sacrifice to hold the family together; to maintain the status quo.
4. Great leaders are selfless. We see Shania display selflessness repeatedly. When she declined to report the abusive behaviour of her stepfather, and when she refused to report the inability of her parents to provide adequately for the home, she was selfless. When she returned home to care for her siblings, putting her dreams on hold in the process, she was selfless. Selflessness is vital to relational success, and it is a fundamental ingredient for business and or career success.
5. Talent is a gift that brings us fulfilment and helps us escape our current reality. Shania Twain, amid hunger, violence, and abuse, took refuge in her ability to sing and write songs. This gift helped distract her; it helped her escape momentarily from the reality of her situation. Our giftings and talents are needful, necessary and helpful in escaping our reality.
6. It is okay to dream, just for the sake of dreaming. It is okay to escape your current reality to maintain your sanity. Great leaders know that sometimes they must flee or retreat in other to win another day. We have been told to go beyond dreaming to bring our dreams to fruition, but I think that it is okay to dream just for the sake of dreaming; even if you are unable to bring that dream to fruition, daydream to maintain your sanity.
7. Great leaders know that their gifts will make room for them. The gift Shania had from a young age helped her support her family. It eventually brought her out of poverty. Don’t ignore your gifts and talents, as they have the power to bring you out of frustration and hardship.
8. Life happens, understand this, and don’t take it personally. Sometimes when all is going well, life throws you curve balls. This is a truth that pertains to everybody and is not unique to you. On the verge of a breakthrough, Shania Twain lost her parents and had to abandon her dream. She experienced fame, and then an illness caused her to take a hiatus for over a decade. She got married and her husband betrayed her by having an affair with her good friend. But she kept moving forward. People and indeed situations can only take from you what you permit. No more no less.
9. Embrace setbacks as part of the journey to greatness. There are valuable lessons that we learn from setbacks if we are paying attention and embracing the processes that are valuable and help us attain and maintain success. Our character is developed during a setback in a way that it can never be developed during a winning season. Setbacks toughen us and help us build resilience, which is necessary for success. And in a season of setbacks, we can identify what is truly important and be grateful for it.
10. Great women weather the storms of life. Therefore great women are survivors. Shania Twain survived a traumatic childhood, she survived a disease that almost caused her to lose her voice, she survived a hiatus that lasted well over a decade, she survived the betrayal of her husband who cheated on her with her good friend, and she survived divorce. She weathered the storms and she came out on top. You can do likewise.
11. Great women are positive and see good in adverse situations. And I believe this is one reason they can weather the storms of life. Shania never reported her stepfather or the harmful situation in her home because even at a young age, she could see the positive in the adverse situation, she realised that they needed each other and should remain together for better or worse. Being able to see the silver lining in every situation is so crucial as it helps us to be grateful and not to be hasty in making decisions that might take us from the frypan and into the fire.
12. Great women are steadfast. Shania Twain demonstrated steadfastness from a young age. She did not report her stepfather’s abuse, but more importantly, she also never acknowledged her biological father publicly as she thought it was not proper to acknowledge a man who had not been there for her paying bills, putting a roof over her head, food on the table, etc. She was committed and steadfast. She was also grateful. Her stepfather may not have been the best father in the world but she knew he had done what her biological father had failed to do.
13. Great women are an inspiration to other women. Their story sends a simple but powerful message to other women. One that says, if I can, so can you. Shania Twain survived a childhood full of trauma, a marriage mixed with betrayal and heartbreak, and went from poverty to best-selling female artist in country music history; anything is possible for you.