SOUL SUCKERS

What you’re about to read is some truthful shit. I’m sorta known for being a “lucky star” but when it comes to love, I am the most unfortunate girl to walk the surface of the earth. I could “gladly” say I’ve been in love a few times, well at least had a few men in my past I could walk miles for, unfortunately they are usually willing to crawl a mile for me.

Alota people tell me I have serious attitude issues especially with men who have interest in me, it’s either I’m rude or I’m cold or a little too blunt. Why waste my time on guaranteed sorrows with no promises of tomorrow?

I’m used to 3 things – getting lied to, getting hit and/or giving a little too much and getting less than a little back.  I’ve been in a few relationships and one or more of these things are present. The more I try to love someone, the more I hate myself for making the same mistake a million times and still not learning from it. The strongest relationship av had thus far is that of my first love, we lasted well into 8 years, he’s presently my best friend and we share everything with each other, experiences with other people and present/future goals/dreams. 

I’m a lot more shut out from the world right now. You’d be surprised the kinda monster lives in your soul when you let the supposed angels hit ur soul, they pierce in deep and suck the life outta who you are. I’m 99% sure that is what happened to me. I used to laugh at everything, any chance I got to smile; I utilized it now I ask for a genuine reason to smile before I waste a moment on it. How awful is that? I’ve lost a lot more in this sudden emotional darkness than I did loving, trusting and getting hurt. The scars are still deep, I still cry every now and then and I still make wishes. 

I get lonely too, alota times i get so fucking lonely and sad but I’m not one of those girls who stay up all night crying or day dream about Mr. perfect but I’m the girl who lives every day of her life expecting the worst from people and feeling really blessed when they show me their best. Loving someone right now is mad hard since I’m a type to love with all my heart, my soul and my life – I just don’t think anyone is worth so much of me, at least not right now. Knowledge is pain and knowing the one person you let into your world does not appreciate that world or wants a taste of every other world hurts as fuck. Besides people barely see your efforts and when they see how much you’re giving into loving them and making it work – they often times don’t appreciate it. I still get the liars, the abusers, the cheats, the deceivers – I call them the soul suckers. 

Sometimes argue with myself, laugh at myself and cry for myself. I get emotionally depressed and let my mind race, most times I set myself in a bad mood and that moment I just don’t give a fuck about anyone and anything. That is the side effect of letting soul suckers run deep into your system. They fuck your mind, body and heart up. Your head hurts for no reason, your eyes cry randomly and you lose breath faster than an asthmatic patient.

I breathe everyday reminding myself that me is all I have, I cannot afford to lose that. Again and again I lose who I am but I’m strong enough to hang onto the most important parts of me, that part of me filled with compassion and care. That part of me that still takes SOME chances with/for SOME people without expectations. 

The good things barely last, the good memories never go away tho - i hang unto the smallest things hoping to be genuinely happy someday. being souless has been hell but i believe my heaven is in my heart and my heart is still very much intact, well the little of it i saved for myself. I’m single right now, not hoping, not searching – just praying. I’m a lot more focus right now on career goals and wrapping up school. Doing my thing and believing in a brand new day with a brand new change, not necessarily a brand new me or a brand new person.

The Invader

Polygamy (Disguised Curse or Supposed Blessing)

One of my mom’s biggest fears was not giving us everything we need, everything she thought we deserved and probably were deprived of the first few years of our childhood. This fear had a strong influence on my mother’s decision to re-marry, especially into a Yoruba polygamous family. There was nothing wrong with this Yoruba family but their ways were just different from ours. Perhaps, they just weren’t too welcoming of the “invader” their dad brought home.

Mom’s new husband was an illiterate, he was far from fluent in English and didn’t do much of school either, however he was very business oriented and was wealthy for the most part. He loved my mom, I would hope, either way mom was very resourceful to his business because she was very much informed about the world and brought innovative ideas for him on the table. He was smart enough to build a separate home for my mother; it made the stresses of being a part of a polygamous family less tedious. He usually spent 4 nights with my mom and 3 nights with his first wife, he was a constant traveler and sometimes we don’t see him for months as his business took him around the world, Asia, North America, India, Africa etc. But let’s face it; no one really likes to share their partner. It’s beyond being selfish, it a human thing. 

She always said as long as she had me and my sister she was fine. Mom tried her best to get along with the family but there was always side comments and side name callings, simple words like “omo Igbo” were randomly thrown at my mom in the rudest of ways but my mom wasn’t an easy woman either and taking bullshit does not run in our blood. She had her wall built around her and her kids and she kept every other person at a distance. Shortly into her marriage, Mom had already adopted a Yoruba Muslim little boy, his name is Akeem, and technically we were now 3 children in the family. You would think that was enough kids but some summers, she had to cater for my step mom’s kids, as the second and new wife, she had to play some motherly roles to them. Mom quickly adopted their 5^th and 6^th daughters because the younger ones seem easier to adapt to. I was four years older than Esther, the 6^th child and my biological sister Uzo was 5 years older than Esther. However Tobi, the 5^th child was Uzo’s age mate, hence she was older than me. As if 5 of us weren’t enough “children”, she was also given Lekan, Tobi’s cousin to cater for. Everything didn’t obviously happen like someone said “here are 3 of my family members, take them home, they are now yours” typer thing, no. They penetrated into the family via the new school my step-dad built for my mom. It was more like “they are now students in your school” typer thing. It doesn’t take anyone stupid or smart to figure it out that mom had to take care of them. They are her husband’s children. Overnight, our little world of me, my mom and my sister, grew into, us and 5 others.

Tobi wasn’t much of a fan to my mother, the same way my sister wasn’t to her dad. I believe their feelings towards their new parent are because they’re both used to having their own family without having to share. I was more free spirited than my sister; to me it didn’t matter much. As long as I get the things I want and be the person I want to be. I got to wear nice cloths and explore my love for fashion, the new found wealth definitely made the transition of my childhood in teenage hood a little more bearable. 

In a polygamous family, always expect the worst. Words will always go around, the walls will have ears and show you proof of it, people will stare at you and patiently wait to count your flaws and hop on your mistakes. The will to survive life is the drive to carry on through these hurdles. My mom was focused on her school business which was a little more than just school business; she was always focused on my business which was one of the biggest challenges of my childhood. Being the “principal’s daughter”.

SUPER-MOM

My mom and my sister are all i ever had and all i still have. Growing up in Lagos Nigeria was pretty CRAZY. I had many dimensions of my life from my early years. Born and raised by a single mom from Anambra, she was married to my dad, a delta man but not for long. I bet my mom has the strong influence on the reasons why I and my sister are not too excited about the idea of marriage. Her marriage was far from smooth, I understand nothing is but hers was a ship trying to sail on land after the ocean dries up. You get the point? My sis and I have this “if it happens, it happens” attitude towards it.

Born and bred by a strong mom, a professor who taught in Unilag, the best memories I have from my childhood was hw she would carry me on her back and hold my sister’s hands on her way to work, when she gets to class to give lectures, the students she taught, would always play with me. Mom took some pictures of these moments and I was able to see some and come alive. 

Through the storm, she never let anything hurt us. She gave us shade from both sunshine and rain, constantly advising us that the most harmless thing, such as a fly can hurt us deeply but we must never allow anyone and anything cause us pain. Ma made constant promises and one i shall never forget is her promise to give us a better life than she did, to save us from less tears than she cried. she said "Nk, Uzo, I've cried enough for the three of us, you don't have to cry more", then she would sing us some comfort songs in igbo language. 

My biggest inspiration is that from a single mom, the lonely nights she never complained of, the tears she constantly wiped off herself, the hope in her eyes every time she tells us “never let life bring you down, as long as we all have each other”.

Few years later mom re-married, this time to a Yoruba man from Kwara into a polygamous family. She never had kids for my step-dad but it was nothing to worry about because he had 6 previous kids. Things became fairly bright for mom. She lived in a comfortable house, had her maids and had a nice car with her own driver. It was a turn in time. I guess keeping the faith holds one down. However, there is a huge possibility that her decision to be part of an already made family was to give her children a better chance in life. She was always that mom that would go all the way for me and my sister. 

Mom was able to build her own school along Badagry express way. She told us it was a dream she always had to be the principal of a school. Ma had her own nursery, primary and secondary school. She never wanted us to leave her side, so she had us attending her school. Now being a part of a Yoruba polygamous family and being the principal’s daughter both had its “Downsides”. 

 If you have a super mom like i do and can remember some of ur childhood memories, painful, sweet or bittersweet, it doesn't matter. Always pray for your super mom, be the best you can be for your super mom, always show how much you love your mom and how much she inspires you. My life's foundation was built by my mom, she brought me into this world and has long carried me through its hurdles. I bless the day she had me.

Read along my blog if you wanna find out more about NK and the things that keeps me going.