Tag Archives: marriage

Meetings and Dressing Rooms

“Mr. AJ, what do you think?”

He looked up from his phone at the yellow dress with multi-coloured stones on the neck line.

        “This shade matches my complexion better and I just love how it flows easily without too much drama, simple and elegant!” Mrs. AJ was saying.

She made a half turn and smoothed her hands over her hips, arching her neck to see the back. He opened his mouth and then shut it again, wondering if he was actually expected to give an answer. Truth be told, he couldn’t see how this shade of yellow was different from the last one she’d tried on.

        “What do you think?” she asked again, still inspecting herself.

He didn’t mind going shopping with the Mrs (well not too much) as long as he wasn’t expected to know the entire colour spectrum or which style fit which body shape or any of the other weird things women worried about.



        “Err…well, I think it’s okay.” He replied.

She paused her inspection to stare at him.

        “Just okay?” she asked, arms now akimbo.

        “Well…it’s okay…I mean it’s good!” he floundered. 

What was he supposed to say, that it wasn’t an okay dress?!

She shook her head at him, giving him her signature look and went back into the changing room.

What did I do now!

        “Never ever describe a woman as okay.


        “You’ll never live that mistake down.”

He vaguely recognized the guy who’d spoken to him. He’d seen him around earlier that day at Ikeja City Mall, first at Mango and probably at MRP as well. The guy seemed to be in the same shoes as he was, tagging along with a woman on a shopping spree. Unlike him though, the guy looked unruffled and had the sort of confident poise that could only come from several years of experience.

        “But I said it looked good!” Mr. AJ replied defensively and his new friend tsked.

        “That’s even worse.” He said, juggling several carrier bags from one hand to the other. “Common rookie mistake.”

        “But it was a nice dress!” Mr. AJ spluttered.

        “Another forbidden word.” He said with a shake of his head. “I have a twelve year old so I’ve been in this business long enough!”

Mr AJ raised an eyebrow. How can he possibly compare shopping with a twelve year old to shopping with a grown woman!

        “As a rule, everything is beautiful or stunning or dashing or amazing.” He said. “Sometimes, they’ll take pretty but that one is a bit dicey. You should read the situation before dishing that one out.”


Say what!

        “If you’re ever caught off guards and can’t think of an appropriate word quick enough, just go for ‘Wow’”


        “Trust me on this one.”

        “But what if the dress looks hideous on her!”

        “Diplomacy, my friend. You think the politicians are the ones with the tough jobs?”

        “Omo mehn!”

        “Rule number two: it’s always the fault of the dress. The colour doesn’t flatter her eyes. Who made that dress, a carpenter? That dress isn’t doing your amazing figure enough justice. Catch my drift?”

        “How do you even wrap your head around all that colour shade and style nonsense?!” Mr. AJ asked in exasperation.

        “Take it from the man who had to hunt down a Barbie Pink Mac Book Air, you learn!”

Just then, the door to one of the dressing rooms banged open and a girl who could have easily passed for sixteen flounced out, clad in a pair of pencil jeans, a silk shirt and Louboutin’s.

        “Daddy, how about this?” she asked, arms on her hips.

        “Wow, look at my little Princess! I think it’s perfect!”

        “Really?” the girl asked uncertainly. “I’m not so sure of the shirt. I think peach will go better with my new purse.” She said pulling at the shirt at the edges as if that would miraculously change its colour.

        “Peach? But this one…”

        “I just knew beige would be too far off. I’ll go ask them if they have this style in Peach. If they don’t, we’ll have to go somewhere else.” She said going back into the dressing room.

        “Rule number three: sometimes, even saying the right things doesn’t work.” Simon said on a resigned sigh.

        “You could say that again!” Mr. AJ replied. “By the way, I’m Mayowa.” He said closing the distance between them and proffering his hand.

        “I’m Simon, but everyone calls me SB.” Simon said juggling the shopping bags again to shake his hand.

        “SB?” Moyowa asked.

        “Oh yeah, my initials. I can’t really remember how it started but at some point, even my little girl called me that.”

        “Oh well, SB it is then!” Mayowa said smiling.

        “Nice meeting you.” Simon said returning his smile.

        “Pleasure’s all mine!”

        “Mr. AJ, what of this one?” the Mrs said, coming out of the dressing room again. This time, she was wearing an A-cut midnight blue dress with a high neck which stopped just above the knees.

        “Oh wow!” Mayowa gasped. “It’s….wow!”

The Mrs beamed from ear to ear and Simon turned away to hide his smile.


photocredit: googleimages

Wifey and… Parents in the Lord (3)

Continued from last week

Wifey and … don’t even mention their names

Boys be laughing at me- I can feel it. But I wont be deterred- I’ll tell my story.

Life is just full of ironies sha. Our pre- marital counselor had assured us that we were going to fight during the honeymoon. Told us not to worry, it would pass.

Me, I had sat there listening politely, thinking ‘Is it by force?’ And I  had mentally drawn up the commonest reasons for the post wedding fight- it had to be the wedding of course. That’s why I had carefully distanced myself from all the wedding preparation drama. Anything wifey wanted, I wasn’t going to be the reason she didn’t get it.

I had no idea, that in 48 hours of marriage, I would be boasting of not one, but two fights. And 1 fleeting first base experience.



Anyway, back to our fight. Wifey wasn’t crying this time around- she was mad and insisting that I was deliberating twisting her words, being condescending and being very cavalier when talking about our ‘parents in the Lord’

Me too, I wasn’t backing down. No begging anyone this time. I was very eloquent on how I had pastors- not parents in the Lord. And I was sick of their names/roles being bandied around in my very early marriage.

‘We were kissing… And you stopped that to tell me what Mrs P had told you on the phone. Abeg, wetin be the problem? Who does that?’

This of course led to the fact that my apologies after fight 1 were very insincere.



Lets just say by the time our food came- with the force with which I yanked open the door and my livid face, the waiter had to ask

‘Sorry- is this the honeymoon couple room?’ Confusion was written all over his face.

I calmed myself immediately, told him to put the food in and I stepped out unto the corridor.

When he was done he whispered to me “Dont argue. Rookie mistake. Just say ‘Yes dear'”

You see what my life has become?

When I got back into the room- wifey had disappeared into the bathroom. I was so sure she was with her phone.

How come we had missed this fundamental difference between us during our courtship?And counselling.

I decided that getting angrier wasn’t going to make me feel any better. But eating was. So i dug in on the food. Wifey emerged from the bathroom. She looked subdued but she didn’t say anything. Maybe her parents in the Lord had told her off. I decided that thought didn’t make me feel any better.

We had both agreed during courtship that we were not going to go to bed without settling our fights.So mehn, I fought that sleep off because I didn’t want to be the one to raise up this gunpowder and explosion topic. Pretty childish abi? Well, the last one or two hours have not been my finest so why start being all noble and mature now?

Wifey was plenty steps ahead of me. After changing into some flimsy something, she mumbled a very faint ‘I’m sorry’ before she dove under the covers.

Ehen? So that counts as settling fight? Interesting.

The next morning, I woke up first- I’m not sure why. That’s a lie, I know why. Anyway in those quiet moments, without that angry edge, I could think fairly objectively about my 72 hour plus marriage.

White Bed Sheets

One, wifey was annoying the hell out of me. But she was still wifey. And we had a pretty long time to spend together. And I loved her. And we had to just squash this, somehow.

Two, I had still not managed to execute any of my real honeymoon plans. One way or the other, that streak was ending today. This morning. I don’t even want to hear.

Wifey woke up later. I greeted her first and suggested that we should pray.

During our prayer, I plainly asked God to allow me reach third base today. That broke the ice and she started laughing. Good sign. By the time I started seriously rebuking all the demons warring against this prayer and desire, still laughing, she moved closer to assist God and the angels.


Somehow, that whole day passed and she managed not to bring up the P word up even once. And not to slip into the bathroom to make any calls. And to focus on only me. And us.

Ehen. This is what I’m talking about.

The next day, we did the Big Bus Tour Dubai. Somewhere on that open roof, during a particularly long stretch of journeying. I brought up the topic.

She tensed once I mentioned the subject. But I was determined it was a subject we were only going to visit when we were in public. She insisted that she still thought I was disrespectful and a bit irrational when it came to such a treasured relationship. I insisted that, while I didn’t agree with anything she had said- I wasn’t going to try to change her.

‘In this matter, I think we should both respect each others’ convictions. If we want peace’ I said resolutely

Wifey was almost in tears

‘But all they’ve ever done is show us so much love. I dont just understand your coldness to them’

I wasnt going to be baited. Or moved. ‘I love them, in my own way. You love them in yours. I’ve agreed to respect the way you’ve chosen to love them. Can you do the same for me? Or should we continue to fight and argue about it?’

She nodded sadly. But I needed more than a nod- if possible, I wanted a written agreement. But we stopped short at spelling out a few details

  1. No more bringing up our pastors when we were in the bedroom. She laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. But I have been burnt twice. I insisted on this one point.

  2. They were NOT my Parents in the Lord. They were my pastors. No more ‘Our’ parents in the Lord. She looked at me, probably wondering how she ended up with someone so fundamentally flawed.

  3. She was allowed to call them as often as she wished and I was not to comment on whether it was too long or late or unnecessary.

  4. She was allowed to do her Pastor and Mrs P ‘PDAs’. She should just leave me out of her plans.


I didn’t push my luck by demanding more. Number 4 annoyed her and I decided we had talked about the topic probably longer than the pastors themselves expected we would mention their names during our honeymoon.

The rest of the honeymoon went on okay. Just kidding, it was great.


We’ve now been married 4 months. I have learnt to ignore the bathroom calls heavily laced with ‘Yes, mummy’. And she has greatly managed to call them Pastor and Mrs P when referring to them to me.

She has not strictly kept to number 1 rule though- but at least she did not interrupt anything to tell me ‘Mummy says…’. But very importantly, when she was on the committee planning Pastor’s surprise birthday- I appreciated her effort not to tell me too much about it. May God bless her for that one.

Once in a while, I give that inward pained sigh when she does something I consider ‘really weird’. But that cannot be helped, i suppose. It is well.

If this is the major bleep in this fantastic woman I have married- I’ll take it. I’ll take her over and over again.

At least now, I’m a happily married orphan-in-the-Lord.

Wifey will probably not see this as a joke.

‘Sorry, babe’


Marriage Rules: How not to…

this post is written by a sister of mine – abeni, who makes me feel like an ‘oyinbo’. teamskindudu. she blogs at abenistales.com.

go on read and i’ll see you in the comments section.

photo credit: samanthafoxlmft.com
photo credit: samanthafoxlmft.com

It is prayer time in church on this beautiful Sunday afternoon, and Pastor says “hold the hand of the person next to you and pray for God’s blessings into his or her life”. So, I grab the hand of the handsome man sitting beside me, then I heard him say “dear Lord bless this *insert an ijinle Yoruba insult* I’m holding” I opened my eyes, apparently he was staring at me when he said it, hence our eyes met, we burst into laughter and then continued with the prayers on a serious note. Only one person can say that and make me laugh… my husband.

Truth is I am no marriage expert but from experience, I know what works and what doesn’t work. We are now in the days where marriage looks and feels like so much hard work. The married seem to be enduring while the unmarried are scared to make the commitment. Continue reading Marriage Rules: How not to…