Meena’s Diary – Page 2 – 21stcenturybelle

Meena’s Diary#22

wordle-girlstoys
I sat on the floor of Sa’as posh living room, enjoying my drink of Sorghum popularly called Kunu Zaki. Sa’a makes the best Kunu on this side of the world. It’s a good thing one can’t get drunk on it. I had devoured the snack, Alkaki and was literally begging for more.
“You are in one serious happy mood. It’s good to have the old Meena back,” Hauwau commented with her usual lovely smile.
“I could not agree more,” chimed in Sa’a in her sing-song voice.

“I am happier to get myself back. It’s been too long,” I grimaced at my blatant lie. They will hate when they found out the truth.

“How’s your relationship with JK?” Hauwa whispered than asked, afraid to ask the question, but too curious to hold back.

“Fine as can be after the storm,” I responded carefreely but refused to give more details.
Carefree was the right word to describe my state of mind. I have let go of all the pain and hurt and forging ahead with my life. At least I think I have.
What I did not tell my friends was that this was one of our last times together before I got out of town.

I had kept this information way from them knowing that they would talk me out of it. I did not want anyone to change my mind.

We laughed and caught up with what was happening in our lives. I knew this was what I had missed in my months of wallowing in self-pity and this was what I was going to lose when I moved away. A girl got to do what she has to do.

There were times, I felt my friends were in conspiracy with JK, but I was not able to put my fingers as to what or why I felt that way.

The other day, JK had said something similar to what Hauwau had said to me earlier in the day, and that could not be a coincidence, but I had not dwelled on it too much. It is possible these friends of mine were putting pressure on JK, but I was past caring whether he made it right or not. He was free to live his life the way he wanted it. When I was all settled, we will discuss visiting and holiday rights for the girls.

After hours of gisting. I told my friends I had to call it a day. I had a date with JK when I got home.
To be honest, the man has bent over backward for me in the last couple of months, but the sad truth was it did not get to me. The scary part was my ability to pretend I was receptive to all his guilt and peace offering while my mind was already made up.

For my last night, I was going to make him remember what we shared and hoped he recalled for the rest of his life what he willingly threw away for a moment of carelessness.

I ordered food from his favourite Chinese restaurant. I went all out to look for a bottle of wine I know he’ll love and had our favourite movie; one of the Fast and Furious in the DVD.

Tomorrow, I ‘ll be gone like the wind lost into thin air.

Meena’s Diary#21

And MIL paid a visit.

I am struggling to get my problems behind. Some days I am upbeat, and some others days I couldn’t get out of my hole of despair. I am tired of feeling hurt and betrayed. I am tired of whining and complaining. I want to get my life back, but I don’t know how.

Today is one of those days that I could help with a ray of hope and some sprinkle of sunshine. I needed to motivate myself to run my day but alas I shouldn’t have been so quick to make my wishes.

Guess who came calling. My adorable every faultfinding Mother -in – law.

“Finally my son has decided to give me a grandson. Our name won’t die.”

I was speechless. There was no love lost between my Mother – in- law and me, but this blatant display of lack of empathy was the height of it all.

My relationship with the mother in law was not always this bad. I remember the first day, JK took me to meet his parents.

Mother – in – law was all over me with delight and affection gushing with how I had brought sunshine to her son’s life. I could not have asked for another, but somewhere along the line, the love flew out of the window. I have asked her severally if I had done anything to offend her and every time she kept saying there was nothing. Those were the days when the communication line was still open.

She rarely comes to the house anymore I gathered from JK himself, she visits him in the office or summons him to her home whenever she wanted to see him.

She was superb with her grandkids. You could not fault her in any way. They were her Achilles heel.

JK took them over to her place every weekend. I have long stopped trying to be the ideal daughter-in-law.

I grimaced with every jab she fired at me with her words as sharp as a double-edged knife.

“A woman who can’t bear a son is no woman,”

“Mama!” I gasped.

“Don’t Mama me. I am not your mother!” she shouted.

“Did you think I would sit down with my hands folded while the lineage of my dear husband dies because you are content with baring two children and stopping in the name of fashion and being modern?”

I held myself from retorting that she should remember she only had a child.

“If you want to stop baring kids then you should have been sensible to have a boy.” She hissed the words with contempt.

I felt intense pain in my heart with every word she uttered. I could feel my slender form wilting like a flower in the hot scorching sun.

“I am going to make sure that the new woman comes into my son’s house. No grandchild of mine will be born outside. You might be making JK’s life miserable, but I came to warn you to allow him to be the man he is. If you can’t bear to stay, then leave.”

What made us women our own worst enemy? Could she have a daughter and play this same role? What was the dynamics of the mother – in – law and daughter – in- law relationship that things always had to be very nasty?

To see a wounded man and rather than help him heal, you pull the dagger into him worsening the wound. That was what my mother –in- law was doing.

I sat there not uttering a word. It was not a case of being speechless, I was too tired to argue, and the fight had gone out of me. Mother- in- law said words not worth repeating I am still struggling to forget.

One good thing that came out of the visit was clarity of what I had to do. I was no longer welcome or needed in JK’s life.

In that single moment, my mother helped me make the decision I had not been bold to make. The plan I had tried to form but could not see myself taking action. I gazed at her with awe, mentally hugging her with gratitude.

I was going to disappear from their lives for good. My girls and I. I was walking away from JK, my home and all the things I held dear.

After she left, I broke down and cried heartbrokenly, deep wrenching sobs racking my slim body. I vowed this was my last set of tears over my emotional turmoil. JK and I were over for good.

Call me stupid. Call me as many names as you can think. Yeah, half my mates have not gone through what I have and have stayed in their homes. You can argue why I should deprive my girls of their father or why I can’t forgive and move on. People can voice their opinion, but they are not me. They do not wear the shoes or feel the pain. Others can tell you what to do and how to handle your challenges, but they can never be me.

Different people could go through the same problem and never take the same approach because we are all wired differently. Some are more emotional rugged and stable than others and can make it through stronger while others might fall apart slowing putting their lives together and maybe lucky to come out even stronger.

I do not have the strength you have and perhaps should you find yourself in my shoes, you might have done worse.

I love JK. It is ingrained in the woman I have become. I know without a doubt that JK loves me but the waters that have passed our bridge has destroyed the strength of the relationship we once shared. What is left are fibers too weak to withstand any further test.

Judge me. It’s my life. It is my decision, and I would live with the consequences, not you.

Meena’s Diary#20

despair

“The child is not yours,” said Sa’a with confidence so intense that in a fleeting moment I wanted to believe against the odds.

“Barrister Sanda and Hajiya Ibrahim are here to see you, sir,” came voice of the front desk officer on the intercom. My PA was away on one of those antenatal checks.

I suddenly felt the need to use the gents as I made an effort to lose my tie a bit.

These two women had never visited my office. I supposed this might not be a friendly call, although, I would guess it had a lot to do with the present issue with my wife, their dearest friend.

Meena loved her friends and they have been together long before I came into the scene. I have enjoyed a fabulous friendship with these women and would not have wished for any other group of women as her friends.

They were both her stability and distraction. Her history and a long future ahead. If anything were to happen these women would stick together through thick and thin. However, today’s visit was not a friendly call, and I did not envy myself one bit to spend as little as five minutes in their midst.

“Let them in,” I commanded with false confidence.

The women swept into the room and made for the two seats on the left side of my office.

I stood up with a full smile and my false confidence. I was not afraid of these women. No, I was not. I was scared of what they had come to say or do to protect their friend.

Stretching my hands for a handshake which they refused leaving my hand hanging in the air. That single gesture was a sign they had come not for a social call but war as I had rightly guessed.

“JK, we are not here for a social call,” Hawa’u voiced my thoughts.

“You should know by now that while your wife has refused to tell us the full details. We can understand that there is a child in the picture that belongs to you but not from her.”

Now putting it that way, made mild the situation. They were not accusing me of infidelity which made me think I was still in their good graces. Today will probably not be my doomsday.

To a keen observer, you could see the lift in my shoulders and the relaxing of my face muscles.

They were not absurd, and I blamed myself for a slip that was costing me my home, sanity and future.

I stood there waiting for all the tongue lashing I knew would come no matter how light they were trying to make the situation. I should be man enough to take without having to throw them out of my office knowing whatever slim hope I still had with Meena would be destroyed by not treating her friends’ right.

“I don’t know what or why this happened, but I am sure of one thing. There is no child. “The child is not yours,” said Sa’a with confidence so intense that in a fleeting moment I wanted to believe against the odds.

I opened my mouth to argue. I was not a coward to run away from my responsibilities. The situation was my cross to carry but to be babied and pampered into buying my head in the sand like the ostrich would make me less the man I am. I wanted to do right and make it right by all parties involved. One could say It was folly on my part to think I could but what would it make me not trying?

“The child is not yours,” she repeated herself slowly like she was talking to a little child.

“It’s nice for you guys to come to defend your friend. But I am sorry I won’t be discussing my affairs with you,” I abruptly dismissed them.

“I have a meeting in 5 minutes and need to get going.”

“Thanks for looking out for your friend. I love her, and that has not changed. I wish this had not happened and there was a way I could undo the deed. I just need you both to look out for her for me. Please take care of her for me while she does not want me around.

I will not give up on us. I hope this problem will not destroy what we share. Our love is real and would stand this test. Although, it looks like our marriage is over for good. I can still hope that we will pull through.”

I picked my jacket from the stand and mobile phones.

“After you ladies,” I ushered them out, so glad for the meeting. I had. “The baby is not yours,” kept ringing in my head. What would I not give to end this nightmare? To wake up and find out it was all a bad dream.

How did I get so low as to be carried away and now having a child out of wedlock?

When I tried to think. It was all hazy. One moment we were having a conversation in my hotel room and the next morning I awake in Dolapo’s hand without my clothes on.

Meena’s Diary#19

Mama walked into my house with no prior call to alert me she was on her way in her usual fashion.

So it was a surprise when the bell rang, and the maid ushered her in.
She swept into the living room like she owned the place and commanded me without words to stand and give the traditional courtesy to our elders.
She nodded as she took her seat before I could offer her. Then gave me that mother look which searches through your soul. Searching and seeing what you have tried to hide from the world.

“Meena, are you ready to talk about it?” She asked a little nonchalantly which I knew was a facade to draw me in by not appearing to mount any pressure.

“Talk about what mama,” I feigned ignorance hoping she’ll bite my bait and move on to other issues.

“What’s bothering you? I have been waiting for you to talk about it but it’s taking longer than ever. I know there is something wrong since the day you dropped the kids to go to Paris. A problem shared is half solved.”

Mama could be right; however, if my problem was half solved by sharing, then it should have disappeared or just gone into extinct. I did not voice my sarcastic thoughts but smiled meekly at her.

While I battled how no start my story, my mother settled comfortably into the sofa. I could read from her body language that she had all the time in the world and was not going anywhere soon.

In a further conspiracy, my maid brought a glass of cold water and peppered gizzard, my mom’s favourite delicacy.

“Thank you,” she said graciously to the maid whose face lit up with a smile too broad to hide.
I took a long breath in and exhaled as I shared with my mother my dilemma.

“Do you still love JK?”

I stared at my mum shocked. What had love got to do with all I had told her? JK had gone against our vows and having or has a child out of wedlock. The child had not been born, but it was no news it was a boy from the little chats I had read while the left of the story was to my imagination.

“Mom, I don’t think that’s the issue right now. Loving or not loving JK is inconsequential.”

“What is?” She asked prodding me with those looks.

“What happens to my girls and I. I did not give him a male child, and now he has one from outside.”

“Has he said he no longer wants you?”

“Mama does he have to say so in plain English when it’s glaring by his action. Isn’t it obvious that I am no longer good enough for him?”

I pressed my temple hoping to sooth the already throbbing ache brought about by the conversation I was having with Mama.

“Meena, the question is do you still love him. Do you love him enough to make your marriage work despite the sticky situation?”

I gasped in shock at my mother. She suddenly looked like the devil incarnate with horns on her head. Why did I feel she did not understand the whole issue and was trivialising my problem. The problem was more significant than love.Love could not work this out.

“Love conquers all things. Meena. He has made a mistake, and you both should look at how to work through this rather than let your home and the love you shared be destroyed. This is the time to stand by him and let him know you do not judge him.

“Mama, JK should have thought about that before going out to sleep around,” I sighed angrily.

“Whose side are you on mama?”

“You are both my children. I am not on anyone’s side. I am on the side of my grandchildren who need two loving parents and a loving home to grow.Your case is not a case of domestic violence where I would have wasted no time in whisking you and my grandchildren away from the scene but a marriage test that you both need to work at resolving.
I sat there seething in anger while mother relished the peppered- gizzard like one with no care in the world.

Well, to be candid Mama had no care in the world. My siblings and I were the children you dreamed of in your old age. Papa died while we were still young and unlike other terrible stories you hear. His brothers rallied round mama and helped pay our fees till we graduated from the University.

My uncles filled the gap for our father’s absence and still do. Today, we were all settled with good careers, comfortable lives and beautiful marriages except mine that was falling apart.

I won’t be surprised if I get a call from one of them once mama left my house.

“Meena, make this work. Give it all you have and if it does not then know you did your best. But don’t give up without trying. If you can’t find a reason, please look into the eyes of your girls. Do you want them to grow up without the blessing of having both parents living together harmoniously?

I don’t know what went wrong here. But I know you still love JK. He has been a great husband, father and son-in-law. Don’t give up on him because he messed up this one time. We are all humans. A famous saying, “to air is human but to forgive is divine.” Find it in your heart to forgive.”

“I bought this book it’s called “Love dare”, you might want to use it to rekindle the love you once felt in your marriage.

“Shouldn’t you be giving this to JK? He probably needs it more than me for the mother of his baby.” I asked looking at the book with disdain.

“Meena, enough of all this nonsense and childlike tantrum. A real woman fights to keep and protect her territory. She does not back down and let the enemy take over her home. Now is the time to fight for what is yours. Anger, sulking and self-pity will take you nowhere.”

“I doubt Mama. I don’t have the zeal to start such charade,” I sighed resignedly. I was tired of blocking the thoughts and pain I felt.

“I know you can.”

Mama stood up to shove the book in my hand and was gone like she was never in the room with me except the empty bowl of gizzard and half glass cup of drink on the side stool where she sat. to prove I was not hallucinating and the visit was real.

Meena’s Diary#18

Sa’a

wordle-girlstoys I was stunned by Meena’s news. My mouth hung opened and could utter no words.

Our perfect husband was finally tainted. The man we had all held him in high esteem. He was the ideal husband. A man who made us hopeful, that there were good men out there. My dearest Atiku with all his devotion did not compare to JK.

What do I say to Meena? The saying, he who wears the shoes feel the pain the most. What words of comfort do I give her?

The issue was not having a child with someone else, although, that was a significant problem. The crucial matter here is the betrayal of trust. What is happening with Meena pales, in comparison to when I thought Atiku was taking on a second wife and I attempted suicide. Ashamed to admit that now but I did.

The thought was enough to kill me despite the knowledge that my culture allows him to take up a second wife without batting an eyelid and encourages me to welcome the other woman with arms open wide as a co helpmate to our husband.

Did women fall into this world at a disadvantage or did we mould ourselves to fit the defect?

Meena must make her decisions, and we as friends can only support her. We dare not sit on our high horses and issue verdicts of what to or not to do.

We held her and cried with her. We wanted her to know all will be well even if we did not know how.

Meena’s Diary#17

Hauwau….

Sitting in Meena’s house in the bar surrounded by beauty and splendour, the drink suddenly lost its sweet taste replaced with the taste of vinegar as several thoughts raced through my mind.

In a million years. I could never have thought what I just heard could ever be possible. JK our perfect gentlemen and secret crush.
The joke we shared with Meena. If ever she wanted to drop him we were there for grasps.

All because we had placed him on a pedestal.He was the doting, caring and affectionate husband.They were married for years, and the love that radiated around them was infectious.I could not for the life of me begin to think what went wrong.

I wanted to hear the story, but it was not the time to ask. Our friend needed us here. It was clear that Meena was heart broken.

She was distantly composed which gave us a clue to how distraught she was. She was still in shock, denial and confusion.
What was I to say?
I could be blunt with words and give my analysis, but today I had none to give at this moment.
I dared not say I told you. I still found it hard to come to terms with the news. JK did not fit the bill. Although, I often said no man was without sin, we all got used to the perfect JK.

Meena’s Diary#16

I am a dead woman on two feet going through the motions of life without emotions. I knew the right time to smile, offer a laugh at a joke, and give a hug to the kids. The right words and encouragement to friends and co-workers.

I was living each day with a happy and confident front fooling the world that all is well.

Babes where are you? A message from one of the girls flashed on my phone.

Me: At home. What’s new?

Hauwau: You are late for our hangout.

Me: Gosh! I totally forgot.

Hauwau: We are waiting. You can still make it.

I missed the hangout last week and did not even remember this week. I have been avoiding my friends. I did not know what to tell them when I was still trying to process the whole situation.

It has been two weeks but I still did not know what I wanted to do or go from here.

Me: Nah too tired.

Hauwau: Thought you’ll say that. We are at your gate.

I laughed. It sounded hollow to me. Only my crazy friends would not take no for an answer.

It was less than two minutes that the girls came in and launched their Mission Attack.

“Spill. Something is eating you up. We have given you all the time to talk. Before and after Paris.”

“You don’t want to hear it.”

“We do want to hear it. The good, the bad and the ugly but leave the sex out. We don’t want our ears to cringe. We are innocent girls here.”

“Blah! Say that to the gods. The things you do behind closed doors. Your grandma will be rolling in her grave.

“If she was not worse than us,” retorted Hauwau through her teeth but turned on me with a vengeance.

“Don’t derail spill.”

“You girls care for a drink?” I asked playing the role of a perfect hostess.

“Martini on ice for me,” Sa’a answered speaking for the first time since the girls came in.

“Does Atiku know you indulge in this?”

“Let’s just say it’s my little secret. A little alcohol now and then is good for the body. Kobahakaba?”

I went through the motion of laughing which was the normal reaction.

I also needed that martini and something stronger.

We moved towards the bar to make our drinks.JK never drank but had the bar full of every stocked wine you can imagine. Luckily he had friends who made good use of the drinks.

“What are you doing with that?” My two friends asked eyes round with surprise as I mixed mine.

“Whatever is going on must be bad,” concluded Hauwau.

“In all the years we have known you. You never have as much sipped on alcohol.”

“There is always a first time,” I answered sadly and blurted out before I lost the courage.

“JK has a son with someone else.”

The reaction from my friends could have won an Oscar.

I could not have imagined any scenarios that would shut the mouths of these women.

Meena’s Diary#15

They say heartbreak is the worst pain, but I think it’s fair play compared to betrayal.

wordle-girlstoys

My love, best friend and confident. I could trust JK with my life. I could overlook a casual affair as time goes on, but a constant reminder of his adultery packaged in what I had not been able to give him was a pain akin to no other.

It’s been three days of hell. Funny how the pain from my thought and speculation that there was someone else dulled to what I felt now.
My brain has not been able to process beyond the fact that JK had a child outside with someone else while we were married.

What game was destiny was playing on me? Okay, it had never bothered us the sex of our kids. We had two lovely daughters, and nowJK had a son to carry his name that was not borne by me.

Where did I go wrong? How did I get so careless that my husband was now in the league of those who had children outside wedlock?

I stole a look at him beside me on the plane back to Lagos.
We had not spoken since he dropped his bombshell.
Well, that will not be true. I was the one who has not talked to JK. He had been doing all the talking, but he could have been speaking to the statue of liberty or the statue of the three wise men in Lagos.

He begged, apologised and asked me to meet out any punishment I wanted, and he would gladly observe. He promised me heaven and earth, but I was far gone to care whatever he said.

There was no using crying over spilt milk. JK did commit a sacrilege to our marriage, and its effect will be in our lives forever.

I still did not know my next step. I was exhausted and still in shock.

My life and all I had built with JK had come crumbling down like a pack of cards.

Meena’s Diary#14

wordle-girlstoys

The silence in the room could break a glass. I was screaming on the inside but uttered no word. Weeping yet no tears. It was one thing to speculate and conclude but another to find out all your fears had come true. Worse still, someone had given your spouse what should have come from you, but you have been unable to provide.

“Say something,” JK whispered.
Why was he whispering anyway we were still the hotel room.
I refused to look into his eyes or acknowledge his request.
It was over between us. I knew that as sure as I knew my name, but I had no clue what my next plan was.

I had lost faith in the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life.I had lost faith in marriage, and it’s promise of forever.
I had lost faith in myself that it was possible to hit rock bottom and still go further down.

I sat and stared at nothing. Then I felt JK’s hands like a scotch of fire. I withdrew mine instantly. I could no longer bear any close contact with him.I did not need some days to work this out.I knew it was over for us.

I take a mental stock of what we shared and still can’t understand how we got here.
We sat there saying nothing. JK was speaking, but the hurt would not let me hear the words or make sense of his pleas.
Yes JK was in tears, but I was beyond any emotion.
I had returned to who I was before we met – “The ice queen.”
The girl with a wall built around her heart to shield off possible hurt by friends.

I had my close group who could never match the ice queen to the hot, fun living girl they knew but that was my defence mechanism.

And today that girl had returned. I would never place myself in the position to be hurt again.

Meena’s Diary#13

Still, in France, I leave the details out, but the least was I let loose to have the fun of my life. I threw my problem to the bottom of my concerns. We will deal with all that when we get back home. One could not deny herself the pleasure of living a carefree attitude even if it was false and fleeting.
wordle-girlstoys
I shopped with JK, and he was the ones choosing most of the outfits. That guy has a sense of fashion that beats me and put mine to shame. He should have been in the fashion industry and not the IT techy world.

I did many crazy things in Paris. Top three were

One, a permanent tattoo lined eyebrow. Yes! I did those perfect arcs. That I no longer had to stay in front of the mirror each morning drawing and my brows.

Two, I tinted my lips red. I never in my life have to bother about those anymore. Hubby was rooting for me like a maniac.

“This vengeance on looking young is severe. What else do we need to do?” JK asked tongue in cheek.

“Is it you that we are putting all this on? Calm down. I am going into self-actualisation mode.”

“Ha! It is me o. Don’t you know your body is mine?”

I did my un-lady like snort, rolled my eyes again and managed a “get out” under my breath.

The third almost brought the whole hotel room down. I got a second piercing on my ears and one on my nose!

“Meena biko! He pleaded in the Igbo language. Is your new look not becoming too much. Do you want to compete with the 18-year-olds?

I stood there staring at JK blankly.

It is bad enough people take you for a teenager, but this one will leave no doubt in their minds.

“You did not discuss this with me before you did it?”

“Is this for real?” I ask myself with sparks flowing out of my head like the ones you see in a cartoon.

“JK, don’t worry, in my momentary transformation, I will try not to disgrace you,” I said sarcastically.

He looked at me with confusion which was more common these days. The bewildered look he gave on some of my comments. I would blow hot where I should be blowing cold. Pass comments not relevant to our discussion but trying to talk about his affair and not going about it directly. I was in a back and front motion. Some days I’ll be moving forward, other days getting stuck and some other times just going back.

“Babe that is not what I meant. It looks good on you, but I don’t think it is something you should be doing? When you do this, then trust the girls will do more.”

“Oh that will be their choice, and I can’t be held responsible for that,” I replied in self-defense knowing he was right but refusing to agree on it with him

“You are their role model. Where you stop is where they will. It is not about whether something is right or wrong. It about the kind of message you are sending out.”

“Where would our sons start? Please note here we had none. Two wives and a harem of girlfriends?”

I blurted out!