The Last Day of 2016

Today is the last day of 2016; it is 3:51 am on a Saturday morning yet I am still up, not because I partied last night, but what else is new.  Everyone has something that plagues him or her, for me my major plagues are insomnia and migraines. Sitting up on my bed with a big smile on my face, I am joyful, for I know how far I have come, especially with my plagues.  Last night, my lil guy wanted to stay up and watch YouTube videos, but I convinced him to watch a movie with mommy instead.  After scrolling and scrolling down the list of movies available on our fire stick.  We settled for  ‘Miracles from heaven’.  “We have wanted to see that one for a while”, the lil guy proclaimed when I suggested it and we snuggled in to watch.  Not too long after the movie started, he fell asleep as I expected he would.  It was past midnight after all.  I suggested we watch a movie because I knew he would fall asleep cuddling with mommy on the couch. 

As the movie progressed, I was glad he was sleeping because my emotions got the best of me as I cried through the pain and joy of the Beam family pains and subsequent miracle, I saw in my mind’s eye the months I spent in bed in my parent’s home with unending pain in my head.  Even as the tears poured out, a smile spread across my face as I promised myself afresh to live everyday like a miracle.  As I write now, I feel a subtle headache that will probably pass once I get over my efforts at loosing weight and getting back in my old clothes and give myself permission to head to the kitchen to eat the cold cereal my body is craving right now. 

At the time, I was watching the movie, I marveled that my head was completely pain free.  To look back and see a time when I prayed to have even a few minutes of no pain in my head is to smile, even through the increasing pain of this current migraine episode, as I live a miracle of knowing that this pain will go away.  Tonight, I couldn’t help counting myself as one of the people on this earth who have been fortunate enough to receive miracles from heaven.  In 2016, I have had many reasons to smile, my children, my parents, my siblings, my friends, my work, my home, even my problems many a time engendered the contraction of smiling muscles.   In the middle of seething about getting a traffic ticket, I smiled because my auto insurance, which, went up due to a crash I had last year, was already coming back down.  My smile amplified when I remembered how that encounter with an 18-wheeler only resulted in minor damages to the car and increased auto insurance.  I even got a miraculous release from the big ticket I got for being responsible for the accident.

Tonight just like most nights these days, I knelt down and I prayed for everyone I know that needs miracles from heaven.  I prayed for myself too because I could use a miracle or two from our good God, but my smile is immense today, and I promise to keep a smile on my face even more in 2017, because I truly believe that my life is a beautiful miracle already.

Thank you God for 2016 and all the years, I have lived through on this earth.  Bless my 2017 and fill it with every miracle that I need to keep this smile on my face.

Happy New Year Family and Friends!  Cheers J.

Copyright Judith Adaobiihuoma Udeke

To the Mother of Girls

I am a mother of boys, my sons are my joy.

I prayed for daughters, but God gave me sons.

Being a mother is hard, that I know. 

Just like today, my cries melted snow.

In the quiet of my car, my tears silently flowed.

An endless stream, as I stared at other kids.

You see my dear, I forgot picture day!

A sticker came home, last night I know.

It reminded me, that picture day is now.

I am hard on myself, just ask my boys.

Yesterday one bungled, and his behind was roast.

Today I arose, before the sun showed up.

A migraine greeted, but math drills were done.

You see my dear, that was not enough.

Homework was checked, work owned last night.

I made breakfast, a table was set.

For my boys to eat, and start the school day right.

Chess club is today, I remembered that.

I made a favorite sandwich, for one of my boys.

The lunch box was packed, chocolate milk; check.

But far from my memory, was the little sticker’s words.

Today is picture day, and my son is an oddball.

In a sea of pretty dressed kids, his khakis stood out.

I am hard on myself, but I deserve to cry.

I can see his sad face, as he sees his friends.

Dressed in their Sunday Best, while he is left out.

I pray to God to hug my son, angel wings and all.

Mommy is sorry, that she is not enough.

I am not enough, I will never be.

This job was made, for a mom and a dad.

I work harder, and miss out on more.

I stay thankful to God, for my mom cried more.

To the mothers of girls, do raise them to be more.

More intelligent, more self-loving, more savvy.

So that their tomorrow, will be better than my today.

Copyright Judith Adaobiihuoma Udeke 2016

“It’s no secret, I thought you knew”

I don’t know about you, but I have heard this phrase more than once in my life, and in my thirty seven years of existence, I have had to convince several people that despite men’s claims that they are so hot women want them despite the fact that they are married, I beg to differ.  Why?  If all men who cheat let it out upon their first interaction that they are happily married and are only interested in an affair, most women will not be interested.  Whether you agree or not, I hope you find my story entertaining and you contribute your piece to the discussion by leaving a comment.  Enjoy!

I walked through the door, my cousin Chichi right behind me. I knew I was overdressed for the BBQ party when I left Jay’s house. But this is Abuja where being overdressed always beats being under-dressed. I had on an overly short baby blue, black and gold chain Fendi dress with Python-skin gold Gucci sandals strapped around my ankles. My ears were adorned in a diamond stud and daring 24 karat gold loops that dropped to my shoulders.  The gold loops bombed its purpose of giving my outfit a casual twist. The black DVF evening shoulder bag with audacious gold lips that would cover the length of a Vogue magazine did the job.

   

I scanned the room. There were only about a dozen guys with a few chicks scattered around the long, narrow living room of the elaborate boys quarters.  We passed the main house on the short walk from the gate. Chichi met me as the taxi that brought me to Asokoro from APO drove off.   We stood out among all the babes in the room, so I figured since Chichi was hooked, the most eligible bachelor here was mine for the taking.

Unfortunately, the guys were non-lookers, even Tony, Chichi’s boyfriend. He resembled his guests.  Tony was short; I figure five feet six inches, with a little tummy spilling over. I didn’t think he had anything going for him except that he probably had a rich daddy.  I wondered why Chichi fell for him, and swiftly dismissed the thought.  She never had a stellar choice of boyfriends. 

I spotted LV man in a corner of the room and shook my head.  He was still wearing the LV shirt, LV belt, LV hat, and LV shoes that he had on, from our flight from Lagos where he had sat across the aisle from me in business class.  I almost laughed out loud when I saw him rolling along an LV carry on, with an LV messenger bag slinging from his shoulders.  I thought it was a bit much. You be the judge. 

Tony walked me around, introducing me as Chichi’s cousin to some of the guys. Mr. LV was Hafiz.

“I know you,” I said, when we were introduced. 

He looked at me funny, possibly because he didn’t recall who I was.

“You sat across the aisle from me on the Arik flight from Lagos rolling an LV bag and carrying an LV shoulder bag,” I said to him.

As he chuckled, my eyes moved on to the only cute guy in the room.  He was sitting, but I could see he was tall.  The white fitted shirt enhanced his lean, fit body.  He was spinning the music and Tony introduced him as Fares.  This fine man’s handsomeness made up for all the ugly guys in the room. That is until I spotted his ring finger, while we had a handshake and a half hug.

I took a seat with Chichi and settled in to enjoy the night.  I knew I wouldn’t find the evasive Mr. Right, nonetheless when in Abuja for two nights, I wasn’t denying myself some fun.

We partied till 1 am.  The crowd thinned down to five guys including Mr. LV, Tony, and Fares.  We decided to go to PLAY, a nightclub in Wuse II. The club was fun, a sexy mix of American and Nigerian hip-hop got Chichi and I dancing the night away as the guys drank. Fares joined me on the dance floor, when the DJ cranked Taio Cruz’s “Dynamite.”  We danced together the rest of the night.  He had rhythm.

“If only he was single,” I thought to myself.  We could have had fun together.  When the night was over, we headed back to Tony’s place.  It was 4:00am and I didn’t feel safe getting into a cab to go back to Jay’s house in APO.  I also did not look forward at the prospect of rousing Jay from sleep to open the door for me at that time of the night.  She was a married woman and in Abuja that means she shouldn’t have friends that stay out so late.

Back at Tony’s house, Tony and Chichi immediately bailed to the bedroom once we came in, leaving me in the living room with Fares. Yes, he came back with us.  He sat beside me, acting familiar and I noticed his wedding band was gone.  I busted out laughing. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Where is your wedding ring?” I countered.

He smiled making him even more handsome. Too bad there was nothing cute in the fact that if I had not noticed his wedding band earlier in the night, I may have been a victim of “It’s no secret, I thought you knew.” 

***

Fares happened to me five years ago…. There is more…..

In May, a friend introduced me to her younger brother who came to Houston for the Offshore Technology Conference (OTC.)   She is one of those Nigerians who likes to hook up single peeps. In one of her numerous, “You are a great girl, I wish I had someone to hook you up with” conversation she mentioned she would set me up with her brother, if he weren’t hooked. 

Subconsciously when this brother showed up wearing no wedding band, I thought ‘hooked’ meant he was in a serious relationship or perhaps engaged. The guy was unattractive, not slightly good looking, lived thousands of miles away in Nigeria, and although I have never been one to seriously look at a man’s wealth as an asset when it comes to falling for him, he was definitely below my minimum wealth standard, if I had one. 

I was uninterested. That did not stop Mr. Abe from coming on to me.  As per nice girl, I never came out to tell him off.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” I asked, when he requested to come to my place or take me out somewhere. 

“That is what I am trying to do, but you keep saying ‘no’ to me.”

I was a little confused with his response, but given my lack of interest, I did not pursue it.  I easily repelled his advances. 

Now in 2015, my year of rebuilding, I tried my hand at real estate. I planned on selling plots of land in Nigeria to people stateside.  That income-making option died in the research phase, when I found out, thanks to a great friend in Lagos and my uncle; that most plots acquired in Lagos do not come with Certificate of Occupancy.  Anyway that is a story for another day. 

It was during this research phase of my Lagos land agent hustle that I met Mr. Abe. Coincidentally, his main hustle in Lagos was Estate development, so we talked business a little. 

Mr. Abe left Houston for Nigeria shortly after OTC. We did not communicate much after that. He followed me up on the land hustle, but by this time I had moved on to another venture. It made no sense to sell my fellow Americans land in Lagos that has no real ownership documents, I love my freedom too much for that! 

Infrequently he resorted to the occasional ‘Hi’ on Whatsapp.  It was in one of these occasions, a few short weeks ago, that I seized the moment to tell him about my Sendoutcards business. I wanted partners to bring it into the Nigerian Market as I see an opportunity for Small business owners, especially our Make Up Artists and photographers to use it for customer appreciation and client retention. 

Next thing I know bros was telling me how his wife is into Forever products and how he will look into it and talk to her about the opportunity.  Once I wrapped up the business side of the discussion, I called him out on the fact that he had been trying to ‘hola’ at me since I met him in May. It was only in November I found out he has a wife.

“It’s no secret, I thought you knew,” he said. 

I wasn’t smiling when I told him that I did not know, that I literarily just found out from his utterance, and that I believe he purposely withheld the information because he knows very well that he has nothing to offer a girl like me.  Why would a girl who is not homeless and hungry want to date a married man with no money, not even good looks or high intelligence?  Maybe only on the off chance she needs some spare sperm for a child.

I don’t intend to throw stones at married men who cheat on their spouses.  I am no judge.  The other day I read a post in a Facebook group that incited lots of people who have sex with their boyfriends and girlfriends, whom they may not marry, to cast stones at prostitutes and ‘runs girls’.  Story for another day, but the moral of this blog post is: if you are going to cheat on your spouse with a girl, even if you are a woman going to cheat on your spouse with a boy, please be kind enough to let them know at the point of introduction. Not after you have spun your lyrics and won over their hearts or worse yet, after you have had your way with them.  Just my two cents…

Cheers!

Edited: A Man's Role

What’s a Cherry on Top of Nothing?

There were a few cars at Einstein Brothers Bagel’s parking lot. I drove in around one in the afternoon. It was Sunday and Houston had better options than a bagel shop for brunch.  Earlier I suggested AKA sushi, as I craved a little sushi. I figured I could order a mango mojito to guide me through this not-so-desirable meeting.

I sat in my car. It was better than sitting in an empty diner waiting for him.  I love my car, but I no longer spend as much time in it since I lost my job. So here I was, in my Mars red GLK with the air-conditioner on maximum to stave off the heat. Houston was as hot as freshly-served coffee. I listened to random popular music on radio, as I checked my Facebook and Twitter updates.

He pulled into the lot several minutes later and parked his white BMW beside me. Years ago when I knew him, he drove a white, old, yet shiny Nissan Maxima.  I suppose a BMW is a natural upgrade for a Maxima, just like a Lexus for a Toyota and an Acura for a Honda.  Back then I drove an old Honda CRV, which I turned in for a new CRV before the Mercedes.  There was no Acura in between. So maybe there is no natural order to these upgrades.  

Did he drive his BMW carefully now?  I remember he rode his Maxima like a horse.  He’d speed up, drive really close to a car in front of him, and then narrowly miss it as he changed lanes.   I suspect he did it to impress me.  I can’t believe I thought it was hot.  Darn 20s.

As he stepped out of his car, I couldn’t believe I had found his almost albino skin attractive. I must have or we wouldn’t be meeting up now almost 8 years later.  Some female got out of the passenger side.  Who brings a girlfriend to these types of meetings?  The things that women have to put up with in today’s dating scene.  I had once told myself I could never accompany a man like she did, but I remembered Carl and his kids' baseball games.  I quickly convinced myself my case was different.  He never had to interact with the ex and I was by his side all the time.  Surely this female will not be sitting in on our discussion.  I would not stand for it.  

I got out of my car slowly and made my way inside the shop.  Thank God I didn’t wear high heels that much anymore. I’d have hated tramping in heels after these two.  Anyway, I didn’t really care what the server behind the counter and the sole diner thought of my outfit.  I felt comfortable in my flats and my relaxed short black dress with long transparent sleeves. 

I met them at the counter. 

“Do you want anything?” he asked her.

“Just get you,” she responded, before walking off to inspect the offerings at the other end of the counter. 

“What do you want?” he asked, this time turning to me. 

“Nothing,” I responded.

He paid for his bagel and orange juice on a separate check, leaving her to pay for her own food. I bought my own orange juice, once I figured talking to him without something to hold was probably a bad idea.  She settled her check with a credit card from her no-name purse.

I would love to give you every juicy detail of this meeting, including the part where the server brought her meal to our table, how she awkwardly walked down to where we were to retrieve the sandwich and drink. But this is a blog post not a short story.

As we left the bagel shop, this guy who let his girlfriend pay for a lousy bagel that she ate alone while he talked to me for over an hour, made a show of holding car door open as she climbed in.  A few months ago, I met up with him in a much nicer restaurant where he bought me a fine lunch and held the restaurant door open for me.  Today, however, I drove my own car. I’d rather my man pay for my meal than hold the door open for me.  Was she one of those girls that liked to go Dutch? 

Do girls really like to pay their own way when out with a guy?  I posed this question to my Facebook friends and 17 out of 25 women would rather have a man pay for the meal when on a date than open the door.  Most women consider a guy paying for their meal, basic, and the latter a little extra or “cherry on the pie.” 

So the question is: what is a cherry on top of nothing?