Archive | July 2012

Finding Hubby – Episode 16

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Ossy took a seat opposite me as a waiter followed him closely with an exquisite bottle of white wine, the type that I liked. “Is this a joke or something? Or are you on a date with Gloria here?” I asked, confused. Someone had been sending me romantic notes and gifts for the past few days and Ossy turned up on my date. “Please listen”, he responded trying to calm me down, because I was raising my voice already. For some reason I still cannot understand, I gave him the benefit of doubt and sat back calmly to hear whatever explanation he had for this.

“Look, I’m going to cut to the chase Oyin. The truth is that my feelings for you have not changed one bit from the first day I set my eyes on you. I could never love another woman the way I love you, my mind is fixed on you. And don’t think I haven’t tried to love my wife. I truly have, with all of my might. But my heart refuses to agree with what my head knows is the right thing to do. I truly cannot live without you Oyin”.

“So that’s why you ruined my wedding and humiliated me in front of the whole world? Love! That’s why you let me go into a serious relationship with Yomi for 3months with all you knew without uttering one word. Love!! And you come here asking me to cheat on myself and my friend by having an affair with her husband? Love!!! So you have finished looking at me and you don’t think I can find a man of my own, so I should be content to share you with someone as a side-chick? Ossy you are a selfish man. Ossy you are a mad man. Ossy you are a wicked man! In fact evil man!”

He stood up to come over to my side “Oyin try and understand. Please. Look at the lengths I have gone to, just to get your attention and get you here. I’m not saying…” he tried to hold my hand.

If you see the violence with which I pushed his hands away en, you will wonder where I got the strength from. “I do not care what you are trying to say, get your hands off my body! You just took advantage of the fact that you know me so well, to do the exact things I told you a long time ago were thoughts and daydreams I had, and that we had talked about that I would love. That’s not going to any length, that’s taking advantage of me!” I stood up and literarily climbed over him. “Don’t ever let me hear from you again. Do not call, text, drop a note again. Ever!” Then I cupped my boobs in front of his eyes and shouted as I gave him dagger eyes “These can never be for you, even if no other man wants them! Oloriburuku, (literarily ‘your head is not correct’). God will punish you a thousand times.”

He just sat there calmly, as if on the verge of tears. I really couldn’t care. I stormed out of the restaurant, barging into every table and chair on my way enroute the door. I am finding hubby now, not finding friend’s hubby. Kilodem! I blocked out everything I was passing. At the door, I turned round to look at him. He still sat there, as if he didn’t believe I was going to leave him there like that. It angered me that he had been so sure I would fall for it and agree to his plans. Imagine, the clown wanted to be doing Glo at home and have me Oyin Clegg as a side-chick outside. Wonders will never end. God forbid!

I went to my car and when the security guy that helped me out of the car park kept hailing me, I shouted on him seriously. The guy couldn’t understand how the nice madam that came in bright and smiling didn’t want to make “the boys” happy. I drove to the café where Toke was sipping on a mix of Smirnoff Ice and Malt (you should try this, it is really noice). I caught her by surprise, she almost spilled her drink. “Wetin happen? Why you out so quickly now? Thought you were having such a great time you forgot to give your poor friend updates any longer” she asked, with raised eyebrows. She got serious when she saw I wasn’t smiling at her jibe “What’s the issue, what happened”, she queried, sitting up. I took her drink and gulped it down first, “Order another one for yourself, I’m not returning this one.” She signaled the waiter and I relished the drink while she ordered for another.

“What was wrong with our man now? Is that how high his level of wowo-ness is ni? Abi he called you HOyin too ni? Abi its Femi trying to apologize? (told you guys Toke’s imagination is very fertile ground abi? As in Femi? SMH)”. I rolled my eyes for effect to show her she was imagining wayyyy off again. “Oya, stop being silly and leave all this suspense now”, she said, rolling her eyes in return.

I heaved a deep sigh and said “well, Mr. Poet turned out to be none other than our dear friend-in-law Ossy!” Toke actually fell out of her chair in shock. “What! Jesus, Joseph and Mary! The nerve! Is he mad ni? I’m all ears, fill me in”. I quickly gave her a rundown of the events inside the restaurant. She got very concerned at the obsession with which Ossy had come after me and how calm he was about my rejection. We decided she would stay with me for a bit to avoid any obsessed person to hurt me because of rejection. I watched some movie called Obsession which featured Beyonce a while ago. Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman can also read the earth hath no fury like a scorned man.                                                                                                                                                           

We each had two more of our mix and the Smirnoff (which has just as much alcohol as beer by the way) was starting to make us slightly light headed. In the midst of our chatter, I remembered that Toke told me there was something she wanted to tell me after my date. “En en, what was the gist you said I should wait till the end of my date. So the date is over now, I’m sure nothing can top my experience of this evening, so spill it”.

Toke shifted uncomfortably in her chair, as if trying to find the words to say what she wanted to. I knew that move very well. “Talk now, worris it now?” She gave it a thought briefly and then responded “I think I should let the person concerned tell you by herself.” She picked her phone and called someone “she’s here now, you can come. How long? Five minutes? Okay. We’re waiting. Yeah, the café I told you. Alright.”

I kept looking at Toke, trying to understand the drama she was acting but she refused to volunteer anything. So we waited. I just silently hoped that it was not another plan with Ossy. I would personally strangle Toke if it was. A couple of minutes later, her phone rang. She picked it up, got up as she answered and signaled that she needed to step outside. She was gone for about two minutes. I checked my TL on twitter to keep myself occupied, keeping an eye on the door.

When Toke returned, she was with another lady. I couldn’t make out who it was initially, it was getting dark, plus the lady was wearing a scarf and wore dark glasses. But then, you cannot be close friends with someone and miss them on a second glance. Toke was coming in with Gloria Onisokame.

As they approached, my mind raced to a thousand and one things she might want to tell me that made Toke even think of bringing us together. So they got to me and sat down. I shot Toke a “this had better have a serious explanation” look and she gave me a “calm down and all shall be revealed look”. The greatest reason why men cannot understand women is because they do not know how to understand this “communication by looks”. They used to understand perfectly when they were kids (when one look from your mum told you exactly what response to give to a question from some friend or relative) but it seems they lose this all important trouble avoiding ability as they grow up. Anyways, I digress.

Gloria didn’t say a word. She didn’t even say hi or anything like that. She just sat down directly opposite us (Toke was now by my side) and silently removed her scarf. And then she removed her glasses. And then I gasped. And then my mouth opened and refused to close. And then an anger welled up within me that made me bang my hands on the table and shout. Everyone in the café turned towards us but I couldn’t care less

NB. If you haven’t, you should read about the Oyin Clegg Pose Giveaway here

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The Oyin Clegg Pose Giveaway

It’s been a whirlwind of a journey since April, and within 4 months, you, the readers, have visited the Finding Hubby blog to read Oyin Clegg’s story over a hundred thousand times. Yes! A HUNDRED THOUSAND TIMES!

Its worth celebrating, so Oyin has decided to give away something. Here’s how you enter

  1. Go through the story and determine some activity in Oyin’s life (before Yomi’s party, enroute airport, with the girls at the Marquee, at the wedding etc)
  2. Take a picture (not a professional studio picture, an amateur, regular everyday pix) and email it to ajileyeb@gmail.com
  3. The email should contain your Name, Location (Country and State) and the description of the event the picture is trying to capture
  4. I would post these on the blog, and then you can ask people to come and vote for their Best Oyin Clegg pose
  5. The winner with the highest number of votes gets an Amazon Kindle (pix below)
  6. Entries are opened between now and Tuesday 31s of July
  7. Follow @tundeleye on twitter for further details

We’ll be doing something for the guys when we get to 200,000views. After all, shebi it’s ladies 1st.

so here are samples

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Stacy from UK as Oyin before Yomi’s Bday

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Stacy from UK as Oyin doing the Phone Select on Kalu

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Stacy from UK as Oyin at The Marquee

AND HERE IS THE PRIZE.

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So let the entries begin!!!

Finding Hubby – Episode 15

 

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Let me tell you, if you haven’t taken time to go get yourself pampered at a spa, and you are making above fifty thousand monthly, you better indulge yourself. You can feel the stress ease out of you as those people handle you. And some of the spa attendants en, they can make you feel like you don’t live in this same Nigeria sha. They are so totally fine and near flawless. Haba! There are some men I saw there, coming to get massages, and in my inner mind, I knew they were there for the girls. Anyways, the owners of the business know this, hence the girls. It reminded me of those fine guys that served ice cream at Ice Cream Factory. You don’t need to wonder why all the island girls have suddenly made it their one stop shop and fashied Chocolate Royale.

To get up was war after the whole massage. Whenever you are getting something osho-free, even when you can afford it, it always feels sweeter. I managed to drive myself home, and had the most peaceful sleep I’d had since the whole wedding saga. Friday morning, I woke up and hit my left leg on the bed as I was getting down. Then I hit it on the bathroom door too. Now, forget tushness, there are some things you grow up with and no matter how educated you are, you still unconsciously remember them. My mama is a typical Yoruba woman, and she drummed it into our heads growing up that if you strike your left leg against something, it was a bad omen. She even had the one where she would ask a guy to meet her first as she was going out of the house on something important. She said meeting the opposite sex first was a good omen, and hence she made sure of that. And with all my UK masters and my Island big girl-ism, that was what came to my mind this morning. You can imagine.

I sha packed myself out of the house, thanking God it was Friday. Work went by and I was wondering what Mr. Poet would come up with today. I didn’t have to wait for long. An sms came into my phone around lunch hour.

“We should meet. Private dinner at the Palm View Manor off Ajose Adeogun. Let’s do 8pm. Ask after Chris”. Notice he said “ask after” not “ask for”. The guy can speak proper English. I smiled. I forwarded the text to Toke sharply and she agreed to be my “backup”, with the addition “Mr. Poet now has a name o”. At my age, I am not foolish. I don’t go and meet strange men in places they chose without having someone around the corner that can make sure I’m safe. I have watched too many C & I things to make such silly mistakes. So Toke was gonna be around and in touch, to avoid stories that touch. We can say serial killers are not in Naija yet, but there was a time when people also said Nigerians could never be suicide bombers.

Anyways, the day raced past after that, and then I waited for Toke to meet me up at work. Since I close at five, I had about two hours to burn before my date. We spent it imagining who this secret admirer could be. Toke said she had some other gist for me, but that would be after my date, since she said it was not so great gist. I made up my mind to just have fun and enjoy the moment, no serious anything. In no time, we headed out, with Toke driving behind me.

I found Palm View Manor easily. It’s one of those exclusive places in VI that the people who are old money meet to talk about how all the brash new money people are invading their moneyed space and how to create newer exclusive circles available only to old money. Toke stayed at one café on the road; there are many of those in that area. Seems like a nice business to do on the island, I should begin to consider opening one.

Seven on the dot, I drove into the compound and walked to the reception. A small Asian lady was behind the counter and I smiled sweetly and asked after Chris. She returned a smile just as sweet as mine and said in the gesture-full way Asians do “Chris is already waiting; you’ll be shown to the table right away”. Another guy came out of the staff only door behind her to lead me to Chris. I liked the treatment and all. I so couldn’t wait to see this mystery man. Second by second updates were flying to Toke via BBM. Thankfully the network wasn’t falling hand and she was getting my messages realtime.

We went through a beautiful corridor, with old pictures of Lagos Island when things were sane and orderly hanging on the walls. We turned a corner and came into a very well furnished restaurant. They seemed to have a thing for red velvet and combined with the lighting, it had a cool comfortable look. I was ushered into a secluded seat in a corner, with candles and all set up on the table. Chris wasn’t there. Very quietly, my guide disappeared and I was alone. I discreetly took a picture of the table and sent to Toke. I was engrossed in my chat with her but all of a sudden, I felt there was someone else with me. I braced up to meet him for the first time. A very pretty, I’ll repeat, extremely pretty lady smiled down at me. I assumed she was looking for someone and smiled at her too, waiting for her to ask me a question. She said with a tilt of her head, “Oyin Clegg?” I was surprised but answered that I was the one. She stretched her hand towards me and said “Chris”.

I was confused. How could my admirer be a woman! Lord have mercy. I sat trance-like while she took a seat opposite me. “You look very puzzled”, she continued. “With your last experience, I can imagine you think I’m a lesbian. Don’t be afraid, I just pulled strings for a friend who couldn’t secure this place himself. I had to be around to ensure that he would gain access, this place is very exclusive. I’ll leave you now.” She stood up, gave me a look over and then nodded slowly “I see what he sees in you”. She then went towards the door. My hand flew to my bbm and I sent an update to Toke. I was engrossed in sending the message I didn’t notice that someone had walked up to me. When I looked up, I almost let out a scream. It was Ossy.

 

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Finding Hubby – Episode 14

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The tabloids were merciless. For weeks after the botched wedding, there was one story or the other about me, Gloria, Ossy and Yomi in every print and online tabloid and blog possible. Comedians used us as skits for their event promos. It was real bad. And trust Nollywood, within two weeks of the event, there was a movie out, complete with a poster of a reenactment of my scream on my knees at the church. They titled it “Love Scream”. Someone needs to do something about Nollywood. Really.

I had to pretend to the world I had known absolutely nothing about Yomi’s sexuality. That was the only way I salvaged my respectability. In fact, some people actually came to console me and tell me sorry. See en, when people are going through stuff, just leave them alone sometimes. Sorry my Yoruba ass.

Yomi left the country and no one could reach him. Not that I tried, but his family kept asking if I had heard from him or could reach him. They were genuinely afraid and were indeed nice people. They didn’t know I knew about him, so they kept trying to be good to me, trying to compensate me for the way their son had deceived me. I played along. Better that way than the other way I guess.

Gloria and Ossy have been asking for forgiveness. Again it’s that heart thing. They keep saying they were trying to make up for their previous mistake, trying to make sure they didn’t keep silent again while I walked into a trap. I could see their intentions were genuine and all, but couldn’t they have chosen a less disastrous way to “save” me? Gloria is a woman like me, and has been one of my closest friends for years. Even if Ossy didn’t understand how disastrous their actions would be to a fellow woman, how could Gloria not understand? So my head keeps telling me to forgive them, but my heart bluntly refuses to do anything of that nature (influenced by the fact that they are happily married and I’m still carrying my father’s surname plus Glo is preggy for Ossy now). Abi if you were in my shoes, would you?

Since I had taken a long leave for the wedding, I didn’t have to go to work immediately and so had time to just be by myself in my house. Thankfully, I didn’t resign at Yomi’s prompting based on his promise of endless money. I would have felt worse if I didn’t have my job to look forward to going back to. Toke was my friend through the time and she made sure amongst other things that I was eating, didn’t strangle or drug myself to death, burn down my house or call assassins to go after Glo and Ossy. The funny thing is, now that this Yomi wedding brouhaha was over, I felt more at peace than I’d been in a long time. In retrospect, I would really have been miserable in that marriage. Truth is, I’m still a romantic at heart, and could never really be happy in those circumstances.

I went through the whole “I’m so done with men” cycle, to the “I’ll just have a kid for some random man” phase and then back to the “when will my own come” phase. By the time I was at this phase, Toke and my mum were satisfied that I wasn’t suicidal and would get over the disappointment and still marry. Prior to that, I had been closely monitored and kept away from sharp objects and medicine bottles.

One of the ways I deal with disappointment is to get something new as if to tell myself I deserve good stuff even if life was trying to say otherwise. I acquired a tear rubber 2012 Honda CRV in this period. Big girl, big toy, I can’t shout. (and if you don’t think a CRV is big enough, snap and send your car pix #yimu)

My leave and the commensurate insulation from the world soon ended and resumption day at work came. I had dreaded this moment for so long and had rehearsed it in my mind severally until I had each detail planned out. Determined to look every inch unfazed, I poured all my energies into looking good. And dayum, I looked good. I did not fail to notice that a few heads turned when I parked my sleek toy and stepped out. I made up my mind to enjoy life everyday and not kill myself about marrying, quoting Sefi Attah’s book title, Everything good will come.

So I was pleasantly surprised when I got back from lunch that day and met a bouquet of flowers with a note on my table. Here’s what it said

“You’re a masterpiece, the epitome of beauty”.

I appreciated the gesture (yes, everyone likes to feel like the epitome of beauty even if you know it’s a wash), but really didn’t take it seriously. Over dramatics of any kind were not in my agenda at the moment. I didn’t even bother to mention it to Toke when she came around. It was that insignificant to me. We watched old episodes of Ally Macbeal and she crashed at mine.

Next day, I unconsciously expected to see flowers and co on my table when I got back from lunch. Nothing! Looooooong hiss, see me already anticipating. It was on the second day I inquired about Ossy, as I hadn’t seen him since resumption. I was told he had left the company for banking. Whatever, it was better not to have to deal with him. The moment I entered the car park, I notice a bright red gift bag on top of my car. I was already internally abusing the person that used my new car as a table when I saw it had my name on it. Forgetting that Boko Haram is threatening everyone, I quickly looked into the bag. In it were the loveliest pair of silver Louboutin shoes I’ve ever seen. This person must know I love shoes. Kai! When I brought the shoes out of the bag, a note fell out of them. It had another message on it

“You are my centerpiece, I’ll build my world around you”.

This guy knows Oyin is a poet o, what kind of attack is this now? It’s as if the guy had taken time to study me and was hitting at my weak spots. I didn’t want to open up to anyone so soon after my last saga, the tabloids and blogs would have a field day. Plus I’m not a fan of stealth tactics. If you like me, oju l’oro wa.

These days, I can’t wait to go home after work, so I headed straight home. When I got home, I quickly took pictures and sent to Toke, giving her the meat of the gist. Trust the nonsense girl, she came up with all manner of conspiracy theories. I really think she should begin to write for some TV series, cos the girl’s imagination is on fertility drugs. She can know how to think up scenarios that all you will say is Tokeeeeeeeeeeeee! In the end, we had a good laugh and agreed I shouldn’t take the fellow seriously until he showed his face.

Next day, nothing at lunch, nothing at my car when I was leaving. I thought this guy had run out of ideas. Then I got to my gate and guess what I saw… a mannequin fully dressed, from sunshades to scarf to belt and even shoes beside it. Omo, this person knew my house. That was beginning to sound like a stalker, but do we have those in Naija? Or was it Yomi playing games ni? I quickly took pictures (making sure my gate and house number showed) and sent it to Toke. Seemed she was busy, no response, cos normal her would have called for the gist if she had seen the pix. This person was doing things that would definitely get my attention in a way that would trip me. I wanted to find out which one line poetry he had written this time and I moved the mannequin in and frisked it. Nothing. I couldn’t believe how disappointed I was. Why prince charming fall my hand now? mtchew. I decided to undress the mannequin and keep the clothes in the car for the drycleaner, while the mannequin stayed outside (I’m definitely not wearing them, would give them to charity. Love juju tinz). The note was handwritten across its chest –

“my cornerpiece, you bring it all together”.

Thursday, and I was up bright and early. My BB was blinking and Toke must have pinged me like hundred times for the gist. I filled her in on my drive to work. We both agreed our guy who we shall label Mr. Poet was getting more interesting. I spent a bit of the workday wondering what he would come up with today. He didn’t disappoint. When I got back from lunch, there was a gift card on my table for a pampering session at an exclusive Spa on Ligali Ayorinde. Accompanying it were two notes. One teased me about going straight home everyday and asked me to go to the spa for a change. The one I really wanted to see, the poem read

“My choicepiece, I chose you”.

Men, this guy was good. It wasn’t the gifts that got me, it’s the poetry. Together, they read like this

“You’re a masterpiece, the epitome of beauty

You’re my centerpiece, I’ll build my world around you

My cornerpiece, you bring it all together

My choicepiece, I chose you”

Kilodem! I was more than curious to know who this mystery guy was.

Finding Hubby – Episode 13 – Birthday Edition

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Yes, I decided to marry Yomi. After all, people knowingly marry people who decided to be drug pushers, thieving politicians and all the kinds of thieves and bad men within that wide range of bad-man-ism, and even help them keep the secret. My reasoning (which I came to conclusion of without mumsy in my head) was that I’d just be marrying a man who had made a choice to be something and help him cover up. Omerta. Really no different ba?

Once the decision had been made, everything went into full swing hyper crazy extra super drive and you can guess who the driver of all that was. We had four grades of Aso Ebi, and the cheapest was twenty five thousand. This was the bigz people’s wedding, and you can go and dye your hair green if you couldn’t afford our aso ebi. The most expensive one was one mint green and burnt orange Swiss Voile lace like that. It cost five hundred thousand.

Since I knew what was up, I decided to spend Yomi’s money wella, with two hands, on this wedding. I changed my gown to a Mai Atafo gown, all chosen specially and hand fitted by the bobo himself. My coral bead choker alone for the engagement cost a million Naira. And he didn’t hesitate to spend. He pulled all the stops, signed the cheques and went to town. His mum commented that she had never seen him that happy, ever. Of course no one else knew why he was that happy, everyone thought I was the source of his joy. Toke was of course my chief bridesmaid and Adamu was playing that role for Yomi. I tend to imagine him in my head as a bridesmaid and not the bestman. And I noticed Toke kept him at an arm’s length after what she knew. I chose not to be bothered.

The engagement was a blast. I remember the cows. They turned into a mini tourist attraction, so big that people were taking pictures with the cows and using them as DPs all over. They spawned all sorts of funny broadcasts; you know the kind that goes on for months until they’re no longer funny. Every major blog had photographers at the event. My official photographer was the hottest new one in town, the rave of the moment, Ogheneworo Akara.

The alaga was Madam Kofo herself. She keyed into the mood the families were, the spending mode, and made herself tons of money, milking Yomi and friends wella. Imagine, at some point, she even said that I was coming in a plane and that they had to drop fuel money and they know plane fuel is costlier than car fuel. So they dropped plenty money. Then when I was halfway out, she said the fuel finished and the plane was crashing. They had to drop even more money to save it from crashing and refueling the “plane” midair.  

I can give you all the juicy details but let me move forward, en. So the engagement was done and we went to our hotels. Everything was going smoothly with the event, and in a perfect world, I had just had the perfect engagement. But that night, I had to numb the fears I was having with generous doses of alcohol in order to sleep and go through with the next day.

Wedding day came and Toke woke me up as early as 5am. The entourage came into the room right after her and so began my roller coaster preparation to transform me from the mortal called Oyin to a goddess simply known as Bride. The whole operation took three hours of intensive work from the combined team of makeup lady, tailor and hair stylist. The small ringlets under my eyes from last night’s alcohol bout were gone.

As my uncle walked me down the aisle, I decided to immerse myself in the wedding, enjoy the moment and not think of the marriage after (I believe a good number of women do this). Wedding was going smoothly and my heart was at its gymnastic best, I was really going through with it. I was going to be Mrs. Oyin Kester-Jacobs.

The preacher asked the customary “Is there anyone here who has any reason why this couple may not be joined together? Speak now or forever hold your peace”, in a jocular manner. He was about to move to the next bit when a strong voice came from the back of the church auditorium “I do. These two should not be joined”. A hush ran over the congregation and all eyes turned in the direction from which the voice had come. Yomi spun around, a crazed look on his face as he saw who it was. I didn’t need to turn. I knew that voice as well as if I had looked at his face. It was a voice I knew too well. It was Ossy.

Haltingly, the pastor asked him what his reasons were.

“I will not allow my friend to go into this sham.” As he spoke, Yomi’s security details began to move towards him. But he was prepared. As they got to him, and were shutting him up, Gloria stood up as if they had rehearsed the scene and picked up where her husband stopped “Yomi is gay, and the marriage is just arrangy, a sham. I will not stand by and let Oyin make this mistake”. Everyone turned and stared at us, as if waiting for Yomi to say how silly all this was so the wedding could continue. It was like live Jerry Springer show.

I got the shock of my life. Yomi spoke up angrily, facing his mum as if all his anger was directed at her “and what if I’m gay? I’m tired of living trapped in the closet. I am gay and from today on, I will be proud of it and live in the open. I’m tired of all this.” People just sat where they were, as if transfixed. Then he said scornfully, “you can all go home now, there’ll be no Mrs. Kester-Jacobs today”. It was then I turned around and screamed.

Today’s my birthday and as a special, I’ve put a real picture of myself here https://tlsplace.wordpress.com/2012/07/12/meet-oyin-clegg/

Enjoy

Meet Oyin Clegg

Over the last three months, every monday, you have enjoyed the unfolding story of Oyin Clegg, and the question has raged, fact or fiction? Many have wondered why the images are animations.

Today is my birthday, and I decided to post a special birthday episode of Finding Hubby and finally put a real picture of me here.

My name is Tunde Leye, I’m a writer and I’m male (yes *smiles*). I’m currently working on finishing my first complete novel called Golden Sands, and y’all will be the first to know. Until then, keep enjoying the (hopefully) thrilling Finding Hubby every Monday.

You can follow me on twitter @tundeleye to get live updates on Finding Hubby and Golden Sands. And hope you’ll be at the launch of Golden Sands.

And, let’s trend #OyinClegg on twitter , okay.

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Finding Hubby – Episode 12

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The next day, I switched off all my phones and left home. My mum had called me at least 20times that morning to keep reminding me that I should not throw away this opportunity to settle down. I checked into a room in Penisula Resort, Ajah, away from everybody to think. I knew I had but a few hours to make the call to Yomi. I needed to be sure I said the right thing when I made it. I’ve seen all your comments and (strong) opinions. But trust me, when you are in the shoes, you’ll find it’s not that easy to do any of these things.

As I lay there, I began to imagine what he would be doing now. Probably curled up somewhere with Adamu, somewhere I should be. Lord! This was going to be all what my life would be if I married Yomi. Well, two can play the game. I decided to practice what my life would look like if I went ahead with the marriage.

I turned my private number on and dialed Kalu’s number from memory. The moment I turned it on, three text messages from mumsy came in. That woman can like to leave me alone now! After the second try, Kalu’s phone rang. The cow was so full of himself, the caller tune was one of those you recorded by yourself. Here’s what it went like “Welcome to Kalu’s Phone. Hang on to speak with the hottest and flyest of them all.” Arrrrrgh! I almost hung up, this guy was so childish at 38. Men, I thought I was through with the likes of him. Anyways, he picked up and spoke with a hint of surprise and amusement.

Kalu: The Lagos big girl calls lowly us. To remind us to attend her wedding abi?

Me: it’s because of this your goatiness that I could never be serious with you. Where are you sha?

Kalu: Where you left me noni. You? (He hadn’t lost his touch. He was already coding what I wanted)

Me: Somewhere in Ajah, personal getaway before the wedding. All alone (this felt real silly)

Kalu: Really? Call the boo to come around now (Kalu can like to make everything hard. If I could call the boo, shay I will be calling him abi?)

Me: You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding. So boo stays put. You won’t come and say hi to your friend before she finally becomes a Mrs. abi?

Kalu: Ping me the details, I’m coming.

I ended the call. It’s funny how you can say a lot, without actually saying the specifics. I had just booty-called (yes men get booty-called) Kalu without any mention of it. But unlike the old days when I would phone select with no qualms, there was a knot in my tummy. This just didn’t feel right. And this was what I was meant to do for the rest of my life. I do something silly that I should confess here. If you tell me now two people are dating, I unconsciously imagine them together in bed. If the picture in my head gels, then I immediately support the relationship. If e no gel, well, I believe the relationship will likewise not gel. Hence I can never do an aristo. The picture won’t just gel.  

I closed my eyes to imagine being with Kalu… bad picture. I turned my phone off again. Kalu wasn’t getting any pings from me.

I began to wander sort of aimlessly around the grounds. If someone was watching me, I probably looked like I was looking for some suicide spot. Eventually, I got to a stone bench beside a beautiful stone arch running over a small spring of water and I sat on it, eyes closed, lost in thought as I watched the water run over those smooth white pebbles at the bottom of the pool.

Reminiscent of when we met for the first time on the plane, it was the voice that drew me out of my reverie. I opened my eyes and sure enough, Yomi was seated on the stone bench right beside me. How he had found me, I couldn’t phantom. God, I loved him. Even knowing what I knew, with him seating just a few inches from me, I wanted to do nothing more than reach out and hold him in my arms.

This heart en, I will never understand how it works. My head was saying all the right things to make me loathe him, that he deceived me, that he could never love me cos I was a woman, that I could never be happy with him and that I should hate him with all my being. My mind even brought up the repulsive picture of him and Adamu replayed like some picture by MopeBob, vivid and clear. But in spite of all my head was saying, my heart was steadfastly, stupidly refusing to listen. The moment I saw him, I melted like butter, sigh! (I see you rolling your eyes now, just don’t let it fall out).

“Yomi, how did you find me?”

“You always come here to run away. It didn’t take long to figure out where you were when you were unreachable and not at home.”

I had totally forgotten that Yomi and I used this place for getaways. All he needed to do was make a phone call and he woulda found me. But I didn’t think he would be looking for me.

“So why did you find me? I thought I was going to call you later”.

He placed a hand on mine and looked me in the eye. My heart did a flip (this my gymnast of a heart en).

“Oyin, we both know that whatever decision you are going to make is already made. So rather than wait for a call, I came to get it first hand from you now”.

My palms became sweaty “Yomi, I, I, I,” I stammered.

He moved closer, “You haven’t made one yet? Then make one now”, he cut in.

What kind of tactic is this? I looked into his eyes squarely. I knew what I was going to do. I decided to marry Yomi.