I got this mail from a lady who identified herself simply as Bibi. When my colleague told me he had a mail he wanted me to see urgently, I'd almost dismissed the idea, thinking it was a mail I could check out at my convenience. I didn't realize then this was not one of those regular mails that usually flood our email box. This was different. This one hadn't been written for anyone to be entertained, it's a story that's come from a woman in utter pain and despair…A woman who very badly needs you and I to help her out of her misery. This is Bibi's story…
This has actually turned out to be one of the most difficult decisions I've had to make in my life. Not even in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that someday I would be pouring out my pain and agony on the pages of a magazine. Kudos must go to you, Wale, because if it wasn't for the fact that I read a lot of your stuff and I'd seen the sensible manner with which you handle issues, I wouldn't have felt comfortable enough with you and the public. But I trust that you will, in the end, do justice to my story and people will be touched enough to proffer whatever advice they have to help me out of this quandary.
My name is Bibi, a beautiful young lady in her late twenties. I am married to a wonderful husband and we're blessed with a lovely daughter. Deliberately, I am going to tell you very little or nothing about my husband. My fear is that anyone who knows both of us might be reading this and may figure out who the narrator is. If my little secret becomes public knowledge and my identity is found out, I honestly have no idea what could become of my marriage. And believe me, I don't want to find out, it certainly would not be palatable.
Godwin (he's barely known by this name) was a marketer with a top manufacturing firm when I met him. We became friends and soon decided to go the whole hog. A very hot steamy relationship started and we became lovers. We got married two years after and then our daughter came. Godwin soon moved into banking and that was when the good life actually started. Life simply couldn't have been more beautiful.
The nightmare I'm about to share with you happened some weeks ago. My husband had been away to Abuja on a two-week training programme. It was Saturday night and I'd been in the living room watching a late night movie when I heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. I was scared at first, but when I heard nothing again, I decided it was nothing to worry about, thinking it was either the local security officers at work, or some idiot was playing with those fireworks that are usually associated with the yuletide season. I returned my attention to the movie on Africa Magic. Little did I know then that I was about to experience the darkest, foggiest moment of my life.
I was already starting to doze off on the sofa when I heard a loud bang on the door. This was not exactly a gunshot, it was more like someone struck a huge metal on the door, trying to force it open. I was completely overwhelmed with fear. Pronto, I dashed into my daughter's room and locked the door from behind. Water was oozing from every pore on my body. My entire body was quivering with fear and I was just managing to stay on my two feet.
“Who dey this house? Who dey here?” I heard a scary voice call out from the living room.
I was just shivering inside the room. I held my little girl in my hands, the poor girl had no idea what was going on, she was enjoying every bit of her sleep.
“Shey nobody dey here, abi? If you make us waste our time here before you come out from wherever you're hiding, na death be dat o! I go make sure say na your own blood you go take baf this night!”
I was trembling, crying and praying. But I realized there was no point taking the risk, it was better I come out of my hiding and open up. And quietly, I began to unlock the door.
I had never been that scared in all my life. My heart was slamming hard against my chest as I turned the lock slowly with a hand that was far from steady. My fingers trembled and I had difficulty breathing properly.
There were four menacing looking men in the room when I opened the door. They were all wearing masks and were heavily clad in military combat gears, it was almost impossible to tell what they looked like even if they were all next door neighbours. But they all had a common feature-they were all tall, heavily built and had a fearsome look about them that warned you they were as dreadful as they looked.
“Campone, dis one na goddess o!” one of them, the tallest amongst them said.
“Shut up!” the Capone fired at him.
“Your own no pass woman!” The others laughed. I was standing in front of them, feeling as though I was completely naked before them. Hard as I tried to appear unruffled and unintimidated by their appearance, I couldn't quite achieve it. I simply lacked the courage to put up a bold front, everyone of the robbers could see I was barely able to stand on my legs, the poor things were quivering so hard you could almost hear them knocking against each other. Inside me, I continued to pray “…the Lord is my shepherd I shall not want…
...to be continued tomorrow
This has actually turned out to be one of the most difficult decisions I've had to make in my life. Not even in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that someday I would be pouring out my pain and agony on the pages of a magazine. Kudos must go to you, Wale, because if it wasn't for the fact that I read a lot of your stuff and I'd seen the sensible manner with which you handle issues, I wouldn't have felt comfortable enough with you and the public. But I trust that you will, in the end, do justice to my story and people will be touched enough to proffer whatever advice they have to help me out of this quandary.
My name is Bibi, a beautiful young lady in her late twenties. I am married to a wonderful husband and we're blessed with a lovely daughter. Deliberately, I am going to tell you very little or nothing about my husband. My fear is that anyone who knows both of us might be reading this and may figure out who the narrator is. If my little secret becomes public knowledge and my identity is found out, I honestly have no idea what could become of my marriage. And believe me, I don't want to find out, it certainly would not be palatable.
Godwin (he's barely known by this name) was a marketer with a top manufacturing firm when I met him. We became friends and soon decided to go the whole hog. A very hot steamy relationship started and we became lovers. We got married two years after and then our daughter came. Godwin soon moved into banking and that was when the good life actually started. Life simply couldn't have been more beautiful.
The nightmare I'm about to share with you happened some weeks ago. My husband had been away to Abuja on a two-week training programme. It was Saturday night and I'd been in the living room watching a late night movie when I heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. I was scared at first, but when I heard nothing again, I decided it was nothing to worry about, thinking it was either the local security officers at work, or some idiot was playing with those fireworks that are usually associated with the yuletide season. I returned my attention to the movie on Africa Magic. Little did I know then that I was about to experience the darkest, foggiest moment of my life.
I was already starting to doze off on the sofa when I heard a loud bang on the door. This was not exactly a gunshot, it was more like someone struck a huge metal on the door, trying to force it open. I was completely overwhelmed with fear. Pronto, I dashed into my daughter's room and locked the door from behind. Water was oozing from every pore on my body. My entire body was quivering with fear and I was just managing to stay on my two feet.
“Who dey this house? Who dey here?” I heard a scary voice call out from the living room.
I was just shivering inside the room. I held my little girl in my hands, the poor girl had no idea what was going on, she was enjoying every bit of her sleep.
“Shey nobody dey here, abi? If you make us waste our time here before you come out from wherever you're hiding, na death be dat o! I go make sure say na your own blood you go take baf this night!”
I was trembling, crying and praying. But I realized there was no point taking the risk, it was better I come out of my hiding and open up. And quietly, I began to unlock the door.
I had never been that scared in all my life. My heart was slamming hard against my chest as I turned the lock slowly with a hand that was far from steady. My fingers trembled and I had difficulty breathing properly.
There were four menacing looking men in the room when I opened the door. They were all wearing masks and were heavily clad in military combat gears, it was almost impossible to tell what they looked like even if they were all next door neighbours. But they all had a common feature-they were all tall, heavily built and had a fearsome look about them that warned you they were as dreadful as they looked.
“Campone, dis one na goddess o!” one of them, the tallest amongst them said.
“Shut up!” the Capone fired at him.
“Your own no pass woman!” The others laughed. I was standing in front of them, feeling as though I was completely naked before them. Hard as I tried to appear unruffled and unintimidated by their appearance, I couldn't quite achieve it. I simply lacked the courage to put up a bold front, everyone of the robbers could see I was barely able to stand on my legs, the poor things were quivering so hard you could almost hear them knocking against each other. Inside me, I continued to pray “…the Lord is my shepherd I shall not want…
...to be continued tomorrow
posted from Bloggeroid
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