Posted in TALL TALES


Your spring water is for you and you only,
    not to be passed around among strangers.
Bless your fresh-flowing fountain!
    Enjoy the wife you married as a young man!
Lovely as an angel, beautiful as a rose—
    don’t ever quit taking delight in her body.
    Never take her love for granted!
Why would you trade enduring intimacies for cheap thrills with a whore?
    for dalliance with a promiscuous stranger?

Provs 5:18 – 20 The Message (MSG)

I want to be sincerely honest. I actually went to the market to get married. I had my list. I weighed my options. She gets things done. Check. She is not too clingy. Check. She is quite brief but still got them curves. Check. She is domestic. Check. She is smart. Check. Chemistry. Well. She is driven. Check. She is independent. Check. My family liked her. Check. Similar interests. Check. I genuinely enjoyed her company. Check. There was Tiwa and then, Osas, but they had like three ‘well’s. Seyi had only one. It’s not rocket science. I picked her. It turned out that she was in love with me. We got along well, that suited me just fine.

By the time we were married six months, I could tell that she knew that I wasn’t exactly in love with her. She gave me my space. She would always have my respect for one thing. She was effective. I don’t know how she did it, but she ran a tight ship. She picked up after me, did the laundry, cooked, cleaned, she went to the market, and she still met deadlines at work. It’s been three years, and we are expecting our first child now.

A few days ago, I came back from work really late, so the security chief at the estate gate didn’t let me in. I slept at a hotel and went to work the next day from there. I couldn’t go home. I overslept. I left a text, and tried calling her that morning. She didn’t pick. That night, I nearly escaped being locked out again. I got home hungry and tired. In the bedroom, my wife sat with her back to me. I went round the bed to meet her. Her face buried in her palms. What was wrong? She looked like she had been crying. I squatted in front of her.

‘Babe… Babe…’ Her shoulders were shaking. I was confused. ‘Y-y-you lef-f-ft m-m-me a-a-loone for t-t-two days.’ I gathered her up in my arms. I just rubbed her back and put her to bed. I slept with my shoes on.

I noticed that she was getting slower in her movement. I had to help with chores at home. I tried to get her to look for a help or cook or cleaner. She didn’t want it.  I was in the middle of a merger, and late nights were a given. How did she  do it? I just couldn’t keep up. Two mornings ago, after doing the laundry and some other things, I couldn’t have breakfast because I was late. As I tried to dash out of the house, I caught a glimpse of my wife’s tear-streaked face. I went towards her. She ran into my arms, sobbing. ‘You didn’t have your breakfast.’ I explained that I was late. I rushed to pack it in a small Ziploc bag. I left her crying.

I didn’t understand anymore. This was my boss lady wife shedding tears randomly. I mean, I know women are emotional when pregnant, but, come on. So, today is a weekend. And I just thought to surprise her with breakfast in bed. Even though she is heavily pregnant, my wife has been nothing short of amazing. I don’t know how she has been doing it. So I carry the tray into her room and help her sit up with her supporting pillows and all. She has that smile reserved for me on her face. I try to feed her too. She won’t let me until I threaten to tickle her. I know she likes to hear me sing, but I would have to tell her this one.

‘You are the real Wonder Woman. Diana has got nothing on you.’

My wife is crying again. At least, I know she is not upset.  You know the funny thing, She takes the tissue and begins to clean my face. Thank God, I came to my senses in three years…

P.S Please, this is fiction. Any semblance to any real person, place or event is a mere coincidence. Thanks. All posts published under the TALL TALES category are fiction please.

Happy Birthday Seyi Onipede. I pray that your life remains a testimony of God’s grace. Amen



A world changer who tells the stories that deserve to be told. Fiction may sometimes be real.

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