WALKING AWAY.

Dear diary,

Over the last two weeks, I have been walking. The students association in school celebrated her annual health week that is usually declared open with a health walk. I'm always excited about so it is with great joy I go for the 45 mins walk with friends. We usually walk and dance, sharing flyers and toothpastes. Yeah I guess you saw us. It was all fun for me.

On Saturday, I walked again (yeah, it's more like a hobby now). This time it was the exquisite magazine walk against cancer. I wasn't keen on going at first but after my last post here, paranoia set in. I need to correct some deficiencies and so I've decided to walk away. I heard about the walk last year and wanted to attend but I couldn't. When I saw the opportunity again on Saturday, I readily went for it. We walked from eko atlantic to red carpet hall on ligali ayorinde rd. I enjoyed the walk not because of the number of celebs that showed up or the cold stone treat we got or even the freebies that were up for grabs (yeah right) but because it helped raise awareness about cancer. Yeah, i advice you go for your screening if you haven't because cancer is a silent killer and you don't want to be caught up in that web.

Cancer is a an abnormal growth of cells and tissues that can spread if not detected early. Breast, prostate and cervical cancers are rampant here in Nigeria, early detection is the key to surviving. It can be managed with radiotherapy and chemotherapy but non of these can be compared to the safe window you have if it is detected early. Enough of my medical rants, back to the walk!

As we walked, I noticed some differences between the walk on the island and that on the mainland. While walking on the mainland, we saw a lot of people on the road, even the flyers we were sharing finished but walking on the island, you would think there was a strike and people had to stay indoors. We had to start distributing flyers to people in their cars, being careful not to get killed in the process. 

Walking on the mainland, we danced and danced and danced but on the island people danced but were obviously more interested in painting their faces and taking pictures... Cheese!!!!

During the walk on the mainland, people dressed moderately not too loud (is it not what you have that you'll wear?) but on the island, you would think it was a party. Between the girls in Ankara head gears, shorts and the babes in heels like it was a red carpet event, I can only shake my head.

The walk on the mainland helped people to make new friends as some people kept setting p's at the back. On the island, I can't exactly say people made new friends because this faction was to busy hating on the other faction because they wore better clothes or looked too happy. Too many factions during the walk and I just wonder if they belong to the umbrella carrying party. *mouth zipped*.

The refreshments after the walk on the mainland were enough to keep body and soul together ( I won't say more than that) but on the island, it's like they were determined to replace the calories that were lost during the walk. I ain't complaining though. Please pass that ice cream bucket, thank you.

We walked for about 45 mins on the mainland and we were still energetic when we got back to school but after the 90 mins walk on the island, I slept like a baby. You would think I walked from Lagos to Ibadan.... *sigh*.

I could go on and on, like talking about the white couple that were dancing azonto or even the tiny lady that kept screaming "I'm tired, this walk is not for me" ( did she think we were going to ride in a limo? Hello! It's a walk) but I'll stop here for now.

Where are we walking to next week?  Beep me so we can walk together. We may even walk to the moon, who knows. 

Impossibility is nothing.

RICH WEDDING, POOR MARRIAGE

Dear diary,

It's another Saturday and it's time to attend yet another wedding... Yay!!. It's time to wear the oleku, velvet and shining lace. Rocking the 8 inches heels, It's time to take pictures with any and every body, picstich it and then post on instagram. It's time to smile at the bride and groom as they walk down the aisle with a new title "latest couple in town". We are going to eat our hearts out from small chops, to pepper soup and the main course----> rice  (if mogbomoyas' don't get there before us) and drink to stupor.  The single lady may find her knight and shinning amour while the bachelor may find the wife material he's been searching for. All these and more are some of the advantages of attending these weddings but do we really know what happens behind all the celebration?

The wedding is the festival/event/ceremony that marks the beginning of a marriage. The marriage is a reality that is meant to come to an end when you die (as we hear when the vow is read -----> till death do us apart). In preparation for the (church) wedding/ nikkah, a lot of pre-wedding events take place e.g the introduction, engagement dinner, bachelor night and bridal shower that is common to all tribes. Some tribes add some spice to their's such as the commiserative polo match done in the north, to the wine carrying and breaking of kola that's done in the east.  Let's not forget the wedding thanksgiving that is equally elaborate as well.

During all these events, the bride is expected to dress like a princess (as this is supposed to be a once in a lifetime thing) and this requires a lot of money. This is no big deal for those that are endowed in their pockets. The bride has to look radiant therefore you can only  marvel (and not complain even if you are hurt) at the amount of money that is pumped into a dress that can only be worn once. The groom is not spared in all of this. You may think "oh, he is just going to wear a suit and tie" but truth is the calibre of attire he decides to wear must match that of his bride. Good thing is that he can wear his again to church or even another wedding.

The couple get married and in 2 years time, we hear they are having issues in the marriage. The wife feels the husband is not compatible because he said he can no longer sponsor the monthly relaxation trip to Zanzibar she normally took as a spinster. The husband suddenly feels threatened because wifey is bringing more money home and it portrays him as a weak man. They can't talk to friends about it because after the pomp and pageantry friends saw during the wedding, husband and wifey must be living in heaven. Ever heard of don't put the cart before the horse? Why spend the money meant for the marriage on the wedding?

Every week, websites, blogs and magazines update their wedding section with pictures from weddings that took place during the weekend. It looks like a competition of some sort because with each week, new ideas (even better ones) are coming out. The reading audience are not absolved because you see comments like "oh, my wedding must beat this" or "lord, you know my heart please send my amour... My wedding must be shown here". You read all these from people that don't even have enough for a court wedding. Ever heard of 'cut your coat according to your size?' Can we blame anybody if at 48 such people are not married because they are waiting for a wedding that will "beat" others?

Yours truly is not a sadist and no, I'm not depressed. I just feel that it can all be done in moderation. If the family wants to make it an elaborate wedding, let it come from their pocket. I've heard of desperate women that use their 9-5 job salary to pay for a wedding dress just to make their friends jealous. You have so much to look forward to in the marriage such as bills and expenses so don't be in a hurry to spend. Enjoy your wedding with the family and friends that care, you don't have to invite Africa to celebrate with you. Some people even go for destination weddings just to cut cost because when mogbomoyas think about the cost of a flight, they'll rather attend the wedding in the next street.

If you have the wherewithal to do an elaborate/ talk of the town wedding that won't put a dent on your pocket, go ahead. If you are still struggling, I suggest you think twice before putting a hole that even tailors can't mend in your pocket. 

If you are trying to beat the wedding I'm about to go for today, it's fine. If you invite me I'll come. Who wants small chops? Holla!

RUNNING FROM THE FAT CITY

Last week, we were asked to fill questionnaires on obesity prevalence among undergraduates. In answering the questionnaires, we were to measure the waist and hip circumference in centimeters, weight in kilograms and height in meters. We had a good laugh because of the surprises that kept springing up. I always knew that boys and girls differed in size (because of "endowments" and the rest...lol)  but the figures I was hearing were shocking. Some boys had hip measurement of 35cm while some ladies were having about 100cm. We also calculated our BMI (Body mass index) and WHR ( waist-hip ratio). At the end of it all, some people found out that they were overweight and on their way to the fat city (obesity) while others discovered that being underweight isn't exactly "cool".

The body mass index (BMI), or Quetelet index, is a measure for human body shape and fat based on an individual's mass (kg) and height (m). It is defined as the individual's body mass divided by the square of their height with the value universally being given in units of kg/m2. When you calculate the BMI (body Maas index) and you are overweight (25.00-29.99) it's a signal to start work outs. The safe range is between 18.5-24.9. By the time you reach a BMI value of 30.00 or more, just know that you have reached the fat city (obesity) and its time to run!!!.

The Waist circumference is also important. To measure your waist, take a tape round your navel (belly button) and note the value. Normal waist circumference should not be greater than 88cm (35 inches) in women and 102cm (40 inches) in men. However, increase in your waist circumference also increases your risk of cardiovascular disease. The neck circumference is about 2 times that of the waist and that's why ladies prefer to test a new cloth around their neck when shopping at the market. Also calculate your waist to hip ratio (WHR). Abdominal obesity is defined as WHR greater than 0.90 in males and 0.85 in females. Are you in that category? Then it's time to run from the fat city. There's no time to feel ashamed or depressed. It's time to work it out.

Inasmuch as being underweight is cool to an extent, you may need some form of weight during pregnancy to avoid complications. Research has also proven that skinny people tend to have more fat in the blood hence the warning " Fat stored internally is worse than fat stored under the skin". In essence eat moderately at least to add a little weight.

Running from the fat city requires consistency, determination and courage (CDC). People advice all sorts from eating more water (i.e water melon, oranges and pineapple) to doing the sit ups but non of these can work without CDC. Do remember that it is all a function of time. Keep records daily of your achievements and you'll see progress.

Don't forget the best form of workout when you want to lose weight is thus: 

Sit upright with your back against the chair. Then turn your head first to the left and then to the right. Do this every time you are offered food that will send you to the fat city... Lol.

Comments!!!!!

Discipline: the tush way or the street way?

Howdy earthlings?

I went to pick up my dress from the tailor during the weekend and it took a while because some adjustments needed to be made. I was buying time by checking up on twitter when her 8 year old son walked in. She started shouting at the boy in her native language and kept twisting the boys ear. What was juniors offense? He didn't perform the Saturday chores with his younger sister. She punished him further by asking him to fetch the water they would use for the night. When he came inside, she asked how many buckets he had fetched and then she patted him on the back on told him he had tried. She told him the importance of doing things the right way and not running away from chores. She emphasized on the need to be honest in life and to avoid cheating. She then told him to go and take his bath.

 10 year old Johnson just returned from school. He had just learnt a new form of painting in school and he decided to try it at home. He spilled white paint on the brown carpet in the parlor and even stained the silver metallic center table. His mother came back and was furious. No, she did not scold him. She simply said "good job Johnson, well done." she turned towards the kitchen to shout at Mary (the nanny) asking her why she allowed Johnson to litter the parlor. She threatened to fire Mary the next time she allowed such to happen.

Growing up in Lagos Nigeria, I have seen different forms of training being meted out to children. From the market women in yaba that flog their naked children clad in only underwear to the banker mom in lekki that dares not scold her child because she fears he'll grow up to hate her. The 2 scenarios painted above are not far from the recent happenings in our environs. 

In the past, a child was not the sole responsibility of his biological parents. Training a child was always a communal effort. As long as that child was known, he would be put in check by any adult present at that point in time whenever he strayed. These days, if you try to correct a child that is not yours, your reward will be a mouthful of insults and curses.

We are trying to emulate the western countries in many aspects but we are not even doing it properly. At least everyone knows there is a difference  in manner of discipline instilled by a black mum (e.g Madea Simmons... Lol) and a white mum in America. Why then are we emulating the wrong things?

The book of wisdom says "spare the rod and spoil the child"...how far do we go with this?. I'm not an advocate of scarring a child for life all in the name of discipline but painting a picture of a perfect life without mistakes for the child doesn't exactly do any good. 

Whatever is worth doing is worth doing well.

Now le roomies and I are arguing about this :). The tush way or the street way?? What's your take??? 

A HOME AWAY FROM HOME

Hello earthlings,

Inspiration for today’s topic came from all my reminiscing earlier in the week. Over the weekend, i had the opportunity to look at my high school and primary school pictures and boy, did i laugh as easy as the hyena does. The pictures brought back a lot of memories, the happy, sad and weird ones. It got me thinking about my days in the boarding school and how i had to learn to live and relate with strangers. Though i may not readily admit it, my boarding school experience has helped me to relate with people in all their forms. The disadvantages of growing up in a boarding house of a unity school cannot be overestimated and that’s why i’ve decided to look at the brighter side of things.

In my first year in secondary school, i wasn’t really keen on living in the boarding house. Along the way, going to school became an unwanted reality because of all the traffic on the way to and fro, leaving me with no option than to sleep once i arrived at home. When my parents raised the issue of boarding house, i saw reason with them and i just accepted my faith. In my second year in school, my parents paid my boarding school fees and that was when i realised that i was actually going to live in the boarding house for real. I decided to play the role of a brave cat and act fearless during the whole process. I didn’t cry and i even looked forward to the day i was going to be dropped off in school. It was on a bright Sunday afternoon that my parents shipped me off to the boarding school. I thought i wouldn’t cry but when they removed my luggage from the car and waved me goodbye, the tears just flowed freely from my eyes. It sounds funny to me right now but believe me, i cried like a baby. I moved my luggage inside and even sobbed gently as i unpacked my bags. And that was it... the beginning of my life in a house (latter a home) away from home.

It was the morning of my first school day in the boarding house. I heard students running to and fro the bathroom. I soon discovered that those that were running towards the bathroom did so because they wanted to get a space in the bathroom while those that were running from the bathroom did so to avoid the splashing of dirty water on their body. Since i was a new entrant, I decided to take my time. Let’s just say i got to class late that day. As the days and weeks rolled by, i learnt to plan my schedule and slowly but steadily I warmed up to the boarding system. I learnt to do things at a particular time. It got so bad (in a positive way) that failing to follow the schedule had grave consequences so i had no choice than to be diligent.

Whenever the dining bell rings, the amount of students that run towards the dining hall is enough to cause a stampede. We would all run to eat a plate of miserly eba and watery egusi soup that looked like a gallon of water was poured into it to provide quantity. I can say all these things about the food now because i have seen better days but trust me, the food was like gold to me at that time. Getting to the dinning hall was not a guarantee that you would get food to eat. You might get there and be told that food had finished. There were times that we wanted to protest but hunger won’t allow us. Then i thought it was normal but now i wonder why i won’t be given food after paying all the necessary fees in school... *sigh*.

Saturday in the hostel was a dreaded day for me. It was environmental day meaning we had to wash the toilets and bathrooms, cut the grass in the hostel, throw the trash away, wash the hostel floors, lay our beds all in view of inspection that would be carried out by the hostel mistress at 10:00 am. We had to wake up as early as 6:00 am to listen to the prefects share the work. Did i mention that many of us in junior school at that time went to bed on Friday night with only one prayer on our lips and it was about not being picked to wash the toilets. The toilet system in school was so bad that i had to eat very little from time to time so that i won’t have to visit the toilet so often. I emaciated so much that people thought i was sick. My mum would bring oranges for me on visiting day and i would beg her to take them back home because i didn’t want to go to the toilet (orange was an effective purgative for me at that time). The prayers worked for some time and i was given grass to cut. Cutting grass was stressful because we were under the bright morning sun (which is naturally supposed to give vitamin D) sweating profusely with our complexion gradually changing to the shade of charcoal. The cutlasses were old and very blunt so that meant double labour. I usually ended up having cuts on my palm but i took solace in the fact that it was the price i had to pay to avoid washing the toilet. My goodluck charm started wearing off and the prefects started recognising me for toilet washing. I washed toilets so much it became a passion for me (laughs). I started looking forward to Saturday so i good make the toilet almost as clean as the one at home. After every inspection, we would all run towards the clean toilets to launch them. Yeah, my toilet regimen became 1/7 (once in a week) except when i had taken the forbidden fruit.

Visiting day in school was like Christmas for us. We always wanted to look good for our parents. There was usually no light in school so we would fold our best housewear in a newspaper a week to the visiting day and put it under our beds hoping they will straighten out before that day. When the parents of a child come to visit, the child’s name would be announced and the child would run happily to meet the family. Parents would bring food, provision et all for their kids. Some would bring food enough to feed a community knowing fully well that it would be shared among their friends. Some students ended up not being happy because their parents didn’t show up. They would cry to sleep and wake up the next day trying really had to forget the events of the past day.

As a junior student in the hostel, having a school mother or father was a priority. A school parent is a student like you but someone in the senior class that could protect you from the claws of other seniors and provide basic necessities like food. I didn’t have a school mother because i was taller than most of the seniors and so anyone that picked me would most likely be ridiculed because i would look like the persons school mother. No one was willing to take that risk with me so i had to make do with having school friends in the senior class. I was a bit quiet and obedient so that was an added advantage for me. The seniors in school could send juniors on errands without conscience. Even simple things they could do on their own, they decided to send the juniors just to prove to their mates that they were not weak. When a junior is disobedient, they would call a conference of their mates over that particular junior and would punish individually or collectively. Most juniors despised the seniors and they did not hide it in anyway. They became rude and disobedient. We always looked forward to their send forth after which we won’t have to contend with their faces. . All i kept wondering was what would happen after school? When we meet outside the four walls of the school, how would we relate? Would i run into your arms or spit on your face because of how we related in school?.

I became a senior student and although it felt good being able to send juniors too, i couldn’t do so knowing i have junior ones at home. Yes i was in SS1 but i was a junior to the SS3 students and was therefore still liable to errands. Although the errands reduced, we (SS1 students) could be picked on at anytime just to show strength to their mates. I kept on piling resentment and hatred towards some of them and i released it all one evening. I was sent to fetch a bucket of water from the tap downstairs and it was not an errand i loved going on. I started having chest pain and i was almost fainting. Thank God for the friends i had who could see i was not being rebellious. They attacked the senior and even though i made enemies that day, i started getting my due respect. I still went on errands but it was better than before. I became the hostel prefect in final year and even though i could send juniors on errands, i didn’t use it to take advantage of them. We were friends and i wasn’t disrespected for one day. A couple of them are in my school today and i am happy i didn’t do the opposite. I have seniors that are still my friends till date and i am happy to have met them.

The boarding school training went with me to the higher institution and i don’t regret getting it. I didn’t have a school mother and i was able to scale through. I suffered as a junior but now i see it all as a price i had to pay. I lived in the boarding school and only went home on mid-term breaks and when school closed for the term/year. I had no choice but to make it my new home. It didn’t have all the luxury things i had at home but i learnt to live within my means. Would i send my kids to boarding school? When we get to that bridge we’ll cross it.

This has been my tiny epistle on life in the boarding house. Do you have any boarding house experience? Please share :).

Gracias.

WHEN THE BETTER HALF GOES

When the better half goes...

(DISCLAIMER: The names in the story below are fictitious and are in no way related to people that bear such names in reality.)

Welcome to the diary of a young black woman. Today it's about Mr and Mrs Clark.

Mr and mrs Clark got married a few years ago and it's been a jolly ride for them. Mr Clark had a good job that was rolling in the money and mrs Clark wasn't doing too bad either. The children came along and the family increased in number. Mr and mrs Clark kept making plans for the future, working hard so that they could rest together in old age. All was going well until mrs Clark was diagnosed with a terminal cancer. Mr Clark went from hospital to hospital looking for help so the mrs could live. They did all sort of tests and therapies all to no avail. Mrs clark had barely completed the first therapy when she died. When the doctor told mr Clark that his wife had passed on, mr Clark fell from his chair and developed a seizure. He was admitted overnight in the hospital. He woke up  at intervals crying himself back to sleep. He woke up the next morning unable to move his right limbs and the doctors suspected that he might have developed a stroke. They asked him to stay a while on the hospital for examination but he insisted on being discharged against the doctors advice. He even stood up with the intravenous fluid that was connected to his hand and walked a little distance just to prove to the doctor that he was fit to go. He kept shouting "if anything happens to me, blame me". Then one of the doctors asked him "who would your children blame? They have just lost their mother and now you want to go that same way?.:.."

When people get married, they hope and pray for long life together. That they would remain together even in their old age carrying their grandchildren but like one of Asa's popular songs "...no one knows tomorrow". Challenges are bound to pop up and most times we don't know how to face them. 

When the better half dies, it takes a while for the surviving half to recover. In some cases, they never recover. You must have heard about people that die one month or one year after they lose their spouse. It becomes painful when you remember all the plans that were made for the future.  Fear sets in and they wonder where to start from. It's more challenging when there are children left behind that have to be catered for but you must take solace in the fact that you still have a part of them living in those kids.

How do you console someone that has lost a spouse? What do you do or say? It is he that wears the shoe that knows where it pinches. Sometimes you have to let them cry out their pain so that they can come back stronger. They feel alone in the world and may tend to hide themselves from the world. Some people resolve to bury their sorrow by focusing on something else e.g work. They may get angry with the children for no reason and even start maltreating them. Others hurry off to marry another person not putting into consideration that the new spouse may not like the children. The children are now at the receiving end. The bereaved spouse sees them as risk factors for the new marriage and decides to do away with them. The poor kids are shipped off to be raised by their grandparents. Fast forward to the future and the kids are now rebellious, hating the surviving parent for something that could have been avoided.

Yes, you are hurting and you want to heal but the children should not be neglected. The children should be a priority to you. Anybody that wants you in their life should want them too. They are part and parcel of you and should not be removed. People heal better when the kids are happy because it's like a sign that the deceased spouse is proud of your efforts. The work is double now but you'll be happy at the end. It is only a function of time.

R.I.P Mrs Clark.

LESSONS FROM THE FIRST HALF

Dear diary,


Its the last day of the first half of the year. Hmmm… how time flies. 2013 started with mixed feelings for me because I didn’t know how I would face the year. At the beginning of the year, I had a lot of things on my plate to achieve. Some were carried over from last year but I was determined to move forward. Being an undergraduate, academics was and is still a priority. Combining school with other extracurricular activities can be really stressful especially when you are not a guru at multi-tasking because at a point, failure in one aspect looks like failure in all aspects even when you are not doing so badly.

Six months may seem like a really short time to learn things that will be useful throughout your life time but trust me it seemed like forever. However I have learnt some valuable stuff that I would like to share. Here are a few:

A book and its cover:
 A human being is like a book. The physical attributes and character that we see can be likened to the cover of a book, while the inner mind of a human is the replica of the content and pages of that book. The people who look innocent most times are the guilty ones while the ones that look guilty are actually sheeps in wolf clothing. Moral of the story is: don’t judge a book by its cover.

Beneath that smile:
Always happy, not saying much. Smiles at every greeting. People have a lot of issues within and around them but because of how desperately wicked the heart of man is, they cannot share their problems. They bottle it up inside them and even though they cry in their private time, they still manage to smile back when you greet. To me these are the strongest set of beings to walk this earth. Can you see beneath that smile?

 I.O.U’s:
 It means exactly that.. I Owe You. You must have at least one of them in your life. Always asking about your wellbeing and granting you unmerited favours and support. Well in the end they usually want something in return, something you can’t part with. Other than our father in heaven, I am yet to come across one that would have a persons interest at heart in all aspects without wanting something in return. The stories are all the same. They may not collect it immediately and years may roll by but surely they’ll be back.

Doing it well:
“Whatever is worth doing is worth doing well, make hay while the sun shines, a stitch in time save nine… e.t.c.” Very popular proverbs that still apply to this day and time. If you are going to do something, you might as well do it well. If you have set your mind on a task, do not be lazy about it. Put in all your efforts to produce a fantastic result that you can be proud of. Only then can you sit back in your rocking chair and say to yourself “not bad, not bad at all”

Setting priorities:
Don’t jumble things together hoping they would sort themselves out. Set your priorities. Know what you want and do not want. Life is easier to live when you take one step at a time. Identify your priorities so you won’t be likened to the man that knows he is sick with leprosy, but he abandons it to look for a cure for that tiny patch of eczema on his skin… Seriously?!

I learnt quite a lot but that’s the little I can share. I am walking into the second half with my eyes wide open, expecting anything. I’m taking my lessons with me ready to battle it out this time. Remember the routine of a football match. The players play the first half and go in during half-time to re-strategise. They come back in the second half more aggresive, ready to win at all costs not minding what the opposing teams throws at them. (Just like Italy and Uruguay are struggling for third place at the confederations cup at the moment….goodluck guys )

It dosent really matter what you set as your new years resolution at the beginning of the year, half time is almost up. Re-strategise and enter the second half of the year battle ready. Above all things, be wise.

Impossibility is nothing!

Gracias

THE LONG WAIT

When a man and a woman come together in marriage, it is usually in accordance with the scripture that says "go ye into the world and multiply". During the wedding ceremony the couple recieves a lot of prayers from the guests at the ceremony. Topping the list of these prayers is the gift of children. In the past, children were the main reason why people got married. The general belief then was that at least 1 year after the wedding, the cry of a baby should be heard in the house and incidentally, that was the norm in those days. Polygamy was rampant back in the day and so children filtered each compound like ants. Seasons change they say. Now there is a rapid increase in infertility in the land. lnfertility refers to the biological inability of a person to contribute to conception. It may arise from the man, the woman or even the couple as a whole.

Infertility can be extremely difficult emotionally and when getting pregnant takes longer than expected, it can be very depressing. In this part of the world when a couple cannot give birth to a child, the woman is at the receiving end. She is blamed for all the problems and mishaps trailing the family just because they have no children. The woman is pushed to do unimaginable things. She goes from one native doctor to another, from one oracle to another seeking help. There she is told that the problem is from the witches coven in her village, how they tied her womb with chains and threw the key into a bottomless pit. She is asked to drink all sorts of concotion, stand naked in the midnight and carry different bowls of sacrifice on her head. She ematiates, looks dejected, depression sets in and she is almost loosing her mind because pressure is mounting on her. She asks herself in her quiet time... "What is wrong with me?... Who is doing this to me??". She may even go to the extent of paying huge sums of money for "miracle babies" that she would never see. Husbands are supposed to be supportive of their wives during this period but some women are unfortunate to have the devil marrying them. Such husbands join forces with the extended family and literally send the woman to her early grave. Then science came along the way.

Thank God for science you might add. Recent day studies and research has shown that men may also be responsible for infertility. The exact cause of Infertility is not known but Low sperm count, cryptochidism, cancer of the testes, trauma bto the testes, smoking, alcoholism are some of the risk factors of infertlity in men. For the women: multiple abortions, fibroid, endometrial cancer are some of the factors attributed to infertility. The days of blaming the woman for the couples infertility are slowly fading away as people are becoming wiser. Now the husbands readily go with their wives to the hospital to undergo series of tests to determine the actual cause of their infertility and seek solutions to the problem. Such solutions include fertility treatments such as GIFT (gamete intra-fallopian transfer), IVF (In-vitro fertilization) and ICSI (intra-cytoplasmic sperm injection) to enable them have children. The probability of success in these treatments is between 25% - 35% and the cost of such treatments is not pocket friendly for the average citizen especially in this part of the world. When trying to conceive with these ferility treatments and the monthly menstruation period comes, whatever hope you had will be squashed instantly... talk about a morale killer. Adoption is also an option especially when all other efforts have failed.

The infertility complaint is usually rampant among the elite as little or nothing of the sort is heard among the poor. Is this a case of the rich also cry? Or maybe the poor attribute the etiology of their infertility to the witches from their village out of sheer ignorance. The society has a prominent role in the infertility issue. They add to the depression of the infertile couple by ridiculing and gossiping about them with each passing moment. It takes well rooted love in a union to overcome all the challenges associated with infertility.

 Prevention of infertility includes avoiding pollutions in the environment and chronic alcoholism, eat foods rich in antioxidants e.g tomatoes because oxidative stress has been attributed to low sperm count. Women should take time to relax off work because work stress and its associated factors decreases the chances of conceiving.

 Finally, infertility should be seen as a collective issue and not a blame-trading venture. Remember that marriage is for better and for worse. Accept your spouse as he/she is.  Impossibility is nothing.

 GRACIAS.

TOKE'S CROSS

 

".....this is the height of it, I can't take it anymore. He is not the only youth pastor in this age, why am I the only one having this headache?. Since they made him youth pastor at the church headquaters, Its been more of a curse than a blessing to me and its affecting the baby. I am not trying to be the "devil" in his calling but this was not what I had in mind when we started dating. What am I supposed to do?! *sobs*....I'm just tired... " Toke kept weeping on the phone.

 It was actually a conference call with Gloria and Oyin (her all time besties) patiently listening at the other end of the line.

"Stop crying toke, you know it's not good for the baby.... I'll tell Femi to talk to him. They've been friends for a long time and I Know he'll listen to him."...Oyin comforted her.

"I've told you to leave this man and face your baby, life is too short for all this. I cannot have somebody giving me high blood pressure in this day and time, I just can't." Gloria snorted.

"Don't talk like that Gloria, not everyone is as strong as you are. Toke needs someone that would love her and we both know how much 'hawt pastor' loves her. Don't worry, It'll be fine." Oyin said, in her ever so calming voice

.

"Alright I've heard you both... Thanks oyin for your understanding and thank you Gloria for your bad advice, I knew I could always count on it"

"...Anytime girl!" Gloria replied, laughing and the phone line went dead.

This was not the "happy ever after" Toke had dreamt of. The baby was 3 weeks due and she didn't need this kind of pressure at least not now. Toke never envisaged that she would end up with a pastor. Pastors were never her "thing". Her meeting 'hawt pastor' was just a coincidence and the few things they shared in common only concentrated the new found love between them. In the beginning, It wasn't like this. Hawt pastor (Biola) always had time for her. He always made himself available for the thursday night drama, which they both watched together on TV in the comfort of their living room. He made it a point of duty to take her out for dinner every saturday night. He knew how agitated pregnant women could be sometimes but he was always patient with her. These and many other acts of love were some of the things Toke missed about pastor.

The night he came back with the news of being promoted to the position of youth pastor at the church headquaters, they both rejoiced and gave thanks to God. Biola started attending crusades all over the world leaving Toke all alone. He would always call her and reassure her of his love but that was not the kind of love Toke was used to. She needed him by her side to reassure her each time she was sad. He always knew what to say to pacify her.

It's been 2 days since 'hawt pastor' came back from the monthly "ready to mingle" crusade and Toke was savouring every minute of his presence before he would disappear again. She  decided to talk to him again about how  his frequent crusades were drifting them apart. He was having breakfast when Toke decided to express her concerns. She had not even said much when Biola started shouting

"how can you say such?.. Do you want to stand in the way of God's ministry?!. Toke what has come over you?.... Who has been advising you?... Is it Gloria? Of course it's her. I always knew she was no good. Rubbish!... I do not have time for this" and he stormed out of the house with his briefcase in his hand.

Toke just stood there with her mouth wide open and no words coming out of it. Was this the man she was supposed to marry in 3 months time?.. Truly life could not be so wicked so as to deal her so many blows at a time, there's only so much a woman can take. Here she was carrying another man's pregnancy and yet planning to marry another man, that she isn't even sure loves her. There was only one person she could talk to now...Femi Tosh.

"Good evening Femi.." Toke managed to mutter on the phone amidst sobs.

"What's wrong Toke?... It can't be that Bad. Oyin told me all about it. Are you at home? Where is Biola?" Femi asked comfortingly.

"He..." *sobs*..."he just stormed out of the house femi.... I'm tired, I'm fed up!" Toke wept on the phone.

"It's alright..don't cry. I know where he might be. I'll go and talk to him...Its alright ok?"

Biola was at the lagoon front, the place where he and Femi always came to each time they had "girl problems". Femi knew that Biola was only reacting to pressure around him. Biola was not a perfectionist but letting people down was not one of his specialities. He loved Toke to a fault and didn't want to hurt her in anyway but then he couldn't let his church suffer either. He managed to explain this and many more to Femi. Having experienced a few months in marriage, Femi was able to advice his friend on the need to draw the line between family and work. He imparted so much wisdom into Biola that caused Biola to even doubt his own 'annointing'. Biola dashed home after the brotherly sermon from Femi only to find Toke screaming and pulling at her hair...the baby was on it's way. It was coming earlier than announced. Right there and then, Biola apologized to his wife-to-be and promised to increase his love for her.

Toke raised her eyes to the ceiling and said to herself "Hmmm.....we might still have that 'happy ever after'. Afterall you are my 'hawt pastor'..." *smiles*

THE END.