please feel free to share your last heroic acts too....

Pouring out my heart for you all to read and laugh, frown, smile briefly or even cry is not as easy as you think. Apart from the money I stand to gain from writing down my life story for some of you to criticise, hiss at and perhaps call me disillusioned at 38 , I also get to selfishly pass my message across to you all, drain my emotions while you feel my heartbeat ; with the hope that I , with my jargons, have in some way helped to save humanity .

A feminist you may call me but not a lesbian, man-less I may be but of course with pungent reasons, uncooked my approach to writing may be yet the words ring true for so many women out there including the unhappy married women whom for the love of their children stomach all the hurts one cannot fathom and remain in a padlock called marriage.

In the past years, we have witnessed the fall of the mighty; men of valor conquered by their penchant to 'serial cheat'. Tiger and the blonde bevies in the woods, Terrys playing session with the French bombshell and Ashleys frolicking on and off the pitch. The harsh reality of todays world is that a lady with a fragile or naive heart can not survive the emotional darts thrown by men ably aided by women like us, in completing their favourite video reality game, breaking hearts........

At 38 I still cry whenever I remember Dee, I loved him with my whole heart. I did not want money, jewellery, cars, clothes, shoes or any material things. What I wanted was unseen; I was, in the words of Apostle Paul , focusing on things we can not see . I yearned for nothing but his sincere love and time. Little did I know that it was the scarcest thing a guy could part with. I could see my future with him ; I saw myself in his kitchen cooking his meals, feeding him and renouncing my spinsterhood.

My dreams were dashed by the bitter blow he dealt me. It took years to recover, like a tortoise I retreated into my shell, on the defensive , but happy with my shell as it protected me from the fiery darts thrown at me. I never knew I was emotional, I never knew I could crumble, I had high blood pressure and I realised I was almost killing myself over a guy that never cared for me as in, he was no longer into me. I found it hard to believe, we shared so much together but he was not brave enough to tell me to my face that it was over, he chose a text message in which he reaffirmed his love for me but deemed it 'complicated'.

I drained his phone with my phone calls, I begged, grovelled, wept, gnashed my teeth but his mind was made up. I had to call myself to order before I self destruct. I was a shadow of myself .
I recognized that although Dee had rejected me, God had not rejected me, that I am beautiful on the inside and outside.

Then I began to check my self and ask pertinent questions. I realised I had a low self esteem and needed a guy to complete me and feel secured even though I was outgoing ,vivacious and loveable . I receive marriage offers and relate well with people, my smile is very infectious and when people meet with me they are moved to confide in me.

I have since decided that God completes me and not any man. I have chosen to be more assertive about what I want in life ; write down my rules for people to see. I dont have to betray who I am simply because I need some guy to put a ring on it. Its no sin being single so long as you have your sustenance coming from God, then and only then would you exude peace, confidence.

When the man that is worthy or you shows up, he would know he has indeed found a good thing. He would fight to have you in his house, guarding his heart and loving him till death.

You may still be wondering what my last heroic act was, well it was finally writing about what hurts me so much, thanking God for everyday spent in my life and enjoying the company of my friends. Now my heart is stronger not because I did it myself but because I gave all my hurts and pains to a higher being and shared it with friends and foes alike.

http://themidtermer..com.ng/

That awkward moment a boyfriend prospect meets with an arrogant ex...Unspoken words were exchanged as verbal ones were shot at each other. The lady with the sparkler banged her fist on the table and stormed out as Nigel finally retreated, but with a warning “I would be back”. Suddenly I felt sick,tears and gibberish kept flowing with ease. Now seated he took a close look at me as I struggled to regain my composure he urged me to take my time saying “I have seen your best and worst moments, please let it flow” after emptying my reservoir of tears, I asked him to take me home. Goodbyes were said; he hesitated briefly and said “I don’t give up without a fight”. I settled into bed still wearing my LBD and called Lameh, after the long phone conversation I came to a realization. I wasn’t in love with Nigel, I was just afraid of him, like a servant I was his loyal maid. So many attitudes that I couldn’t manage and I still felt he still has no regard for women. He showed that in the way he related to his fiancé. And as for me been a cougar, I doubt that would happen. He his strong willed and the arrogance was a turn off. Fine, he apologized, ate his humble pie but that would be for how long? I am still going to be his pun. My company works for him. His eerie love for digging up about one’s life is not what I appreciate. The power he has seems to overrule him many a time. Much as the disappointment that I have had, I have not given up on finding love. For now I am just happier to be back to me. I don’t have to force love and give up myself or give up on me to find love….I definitely enjoyed the whole adventure but it has come to a halt.


THE END
(A darn good year is currently trending on http://themidtermer..com.ng/)

I was now seated, instinctively I used the seat belt, tried looking behind me and I could notice the aircraft was almost empty. I felt cold chills down my spine, what if this is a new plot kidnappers now use on their prey? I doubt I would be a good offer for them; people who will cry for me aren’t up to three and they don’t have a treasure chest stacked with different currencies.


I thought about making a quick phone call to Lameh but feared; not on how she would react at me jumping on a freebie but the theories she would draw up concerning my fate.


I relaxed in my seat and a young guy walked in. He had a strange aura around him; burly looking men walked up to him and asked if he needed anything. Then he took his seat next to mine. I looked at him and he barely acknowledged me. I grimaced; “all these spoilt rich pikins”


We were finally cleared by the pilot to relax and enjoy the flight to Abuja. Immediately I clicked off my seat belt, I was met with a stare.


“You are not a very patient Lady Ma’am”


I blinked hard; this spoilt rich kid had the guts to chat me up “Boy, what exactly is your grouse, it is too early in the day to be money drunk”


With an unchanged expression he said “Cece, you close from work 5pm, your overtime is 8pm maximum. You head out to chill at La katchey and spend no more than 45minutes daily. You patronize them on a Sunday too. You are very single, a sworn feminist. You recently flunked your last presentation for a multibillion company and you are heading to Abuja for negotiations with that same company” then he paused.


I recoiled on my seat and felt nauseated suddenly, now his eyes had the steely look of a killer. I froze thinking there was a plot to kill me. I struggled to breath, and then he smiled.


“It is part of my policy to do background checks on anyone working for me” and my jaw dropped. “You intrigue me Cece. I am sorry my now ex-girlfriend pulled all that stunt on you, besides eight years is not much of a big deal is it”



Suddenly my brain went into rewind; all the dots now are connected. Little wonder all those security checks and cancellation of flights, the stares I felt. I tried saying another word but stuttered “Save your breath Cece, you need a lot of rest right now”


We finally touched down and I hurriedly stood up from my seat, not knowing how to address him he said “No need to rush, we are boarding a private jet to Obudu Cattle Ranch” I opened my mouth but again words couldn’t be formed “Abuja is low on traffic but the atmosphere is not serene enough. I am curious, how do you manage a seat in economy class” and he walked ahead of me


TO BE CONTINUED

http://themidtermer..com.ng/

“So, how is this booby trap turning out” and my mind was brought back to reality. I should have known better than tell Lameh about the anonymous phone calls to my line. Now she is busy playing ‘Madame Inspector’ asking for progress report almost every minute.


“I have a flight to catch and I am yet to figure out who this guy with the control freak girlfriend is”


This is the reason why myself and Lameh can never share a flat or live together, her urge for gist is insatiable like bokoharam’s urge for blood. But I do love my friend; she pushes me on, and keeps me sane if you know what I mean…


Entering into MMA2, I had a strange feeling I was being watched. It is kind of creepy.


I tripped severally and I was stunned to realize I couldn’t check in despite purchasing e-ticket weeks before. The protocol officer simply told me due to some problems beyond their control I can’t check in. “what rubbish, you mean I booked a ticket weeks ago and this is the crap you are telling me”


“Madame, we will fix you in for the next flight later in the evening and you can purchase business class if you must go with this. It is beyond our control” I was angry and amazed at how she could be so rude yet smiling innocently like she has said nothing wrong. Thought about how she addressed me “Madame”...Is it so obvious now that I am past my prime. I shook my head in disdain.


There was no use struggling for attention there, I was not the only one affected. After selling our tickets to the highest bidder we were treated like flies feasting on a meal. I was preparing to walk away, maybe its God telling me to abort this flight.


Then, someone walked to me. Apologized for the mix up asked for my e ticket and came back with a business class ticket for me. No words said, just accompanied with a card. It had a man’s name.


I contemplated, stood still and said “what the heck, what would be would be” I could care less what the business card was for. It could be the new marketing strategy for selling a company without a name, just registered number.


On my way boarding the flight I couldn’t help but notice that we were not up to ten. I tried looking behind me and my heart raced. I felt I was being monitored followed but I couldn’t turn back now. It is a big business meeting I am going for.


I walked in, took my seat, though my heart kept telling me there is more to it. But a free business class ticket, maybe I am not as old as the protocol officer portrayed me to be.
TO BE CONTINUED

http://themidtermer..com.ng/

Mscheeeeewww, I let out a long hiss. I was clearly not amused by another missed call from a private number on my phone. At first I thought a friend was playing a cruel joke on me or a colleague or familiar enemy but now this is turning to a daily obsession.

I refused to pick because I just had a strange feeling the caller was up to mischief. Now this has been going on for a week and clearly at wits end I told my friend, Lameh. She suggested I picked the call and listen to what the caller has to say. I was having none of that; I rather submit a report to the police and get an order to the service provider to release the number of my chief tormentor.


“Cece, it would be nice if you actually take time out to listen to other peoples opinion, you are becoming more cynical as you age and to think you are not yet forty”


“Ouch” I retorted.


“That was mean”, but Lameh has never been the one to hide her feelings she just blurts it out.


“Get over yourself, hear the caller out” she responded not minding my bruised ego.


I decided to pick up whenever the caller dialed my number and I missed the call again. I am not known for multitasking, as I lose my concentration easily when something is bothering my mind. I took a break and left my seat. Pacing up and down, trying to figure out who this unknown person is my phone rang. It was a private number again, I composed myself and picked but before I could say a word the below was reeled out to me.


“Cradle snatcher, if you want to settle down badly, pick your age. My man is out of bounds, I can take it if he goes on with a girl of our age group but you are way too old for him. What is deceiving you, or who are you fooling. Your wrinkles will always shine through.” And the line went off. I was stunned; I staggered a bit and walked slowly to my seat.


Then text messages with the subject “Old rag” filled my phone with the same words spoken to me as the body. After filling up my inbox I took permission and closed early.


My mind kept thinking, Chuks is the only one I was dating that I was older than and K.v is older than me with years. I had told Chuks off already.


Is there someone else that I don’t know that is younger than me?


What is the big deal in dating someone younger than me?


Why should the girlfriend see me as a threat after all “I am old and wrinkly”


If I am that much of a threat to her, then I must be doing something she has no idea of. I am not going to throw myself in self pity mode, I have a plan.


Hunt down this prey of mine and be the cougar.
TO BE CONTINUED

http://themidtermer..com.ng/