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Romance With My Math Teacher…I Was Only 14!

By Mutterers Club June 17, 2021

7 min read

Each passing day, all I have left are the trails of the event, not how it started. It all made sense now what my dad said about “enemies lurking in the courtyard and perpetrators being your close ones”. It took me 7 years to realize I held myself hostage for a crime I did not commit. I beat myself up emotionally for failing when I did not know better.

There was this wave of adulthood I felt and I was barely 14. I became really guarded and secretive. I wanted to prove myself worthy of love. I was hungry for affection and Care. I needed someone to call my own. Guess it’s what they often say about the odds of being birth in a polygamous family; mine was built by an aging father. My ever-busy mum had just me and my introverted sister in a colony where everyone fought for themselves. I was alone, trying to navigate the sharks and perks of teenagehood. One thing was non-negotiable for my sister and me; quality education and I compensated by excelling in everything except mathematics. Getting a tutor for extra maths classes was the best move for my parents but the beginning of my woes.

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$romance with my teacher$

AN ANGELIC DEMON

Dreaded by all, good with words but better with the whip…although deficient in looks, his genius brain was a glory to behold. He was a science teacher in my school, very charming in a weird way every girl would kill for a spot at his table. My smart mouth and my mother’s money secured me one and alas, he became my tutor in mathematics. The formulas remained a difficult nut to crack for my brain but the more I deteriorated in comprehending, the more he was relentless in making sure it sank. He listened, he cared not just about my academics but my wellbeing. He asked my opinion on things, was bothered if I had eaten, helped shape my dreams, and importantly, made me believe I was worthy. He was everything my parents were not. Before long, I fell helpless in love or better still in romance with him, my maths tutor. I was 14!

Read: From Abuse to Addiction

His favorite place was the science laboratory except he was parading to lay hold of a scapegoat roaming the corridor (You know how it is in secondary schools). I was not in science class but I stayed in the lab even more than the keeper. School usually closed at 4 pm after which I’ll start my extra class by 4:30 pm with a junior male student whose class ended by 6:30 pm while mine continued.

romance with my maths teacher in the lab — Source- Vox

Like I mentioned at the beginning, I have no vivid memory of how the romance with my teacher blossomed into light, I just found myself in the mix of getting bewitched by his charms which I always enjoyed. Mathematics was hard but there was something about him that made failing really nice. I did not get better at solving maths problems but I looked forward to his soothing caress after every failed attempt. He scolds me, I shed a tear or more and he brings me close, and hugs me really tight. He smelt really good then but picking up the smell now makes my head swim. He was good at scolding yet made me feel good at the same time. Before I knew it, we’ll start kissing, he’ll fondle my tender breasts and subdue my mouth with his extra full lips while his tongue went down my throat and his finger worked my clitoris.

HE UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT

I always felt shrills down to my feet. He knew when and how to touch me and likewise tutored me how to fondle his penis instead of holding the lab cabinet while I moaned gently in the dark with no one in sight. One creepy occurrence was when my eyes caught the lab skeleton in a corner with its jagged jaw. It felt like it wore this look of surprise and sorry for me at the same time. How did I become this? How did my parents trust me to be in the care of a man all for learning the wheels of mathematics?

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teacher molesting student — Source- Voices of San Diego

Our romance continued for a long time. He knew how to play the part; my sweet romance partner at night and the no-nonsense science teacher during the day who beats me harder than others if the need arises. It might seem one cannot keep up an act for too long. The walls started to talk, words flew among my classmates and even some teachers started to raise their eyebrows but no one dared say it out loud. After all, I was the well-behaved brilliant student and he was the good teacher. Every night, we continued on the same dose, except on weekends or days when he had to be in church or had another engagement. And those days made me long for him more. I was too obsessed, I couldn’t bear missing a turn.

BLIND MUM, PARANOID DAD… YET I SUNK

My mother was too blinded by my “supposed improvement” in mathematics to entertain any weirdly connected dots but my father had his reservations and swore to my mum he would kill him if he found out he had ulterior motives. My dad’s intuition is hardly wrong, safe to bank on, it always felt like jazz (vodoo) only that this time, the hints were not generous enough to show themselves. In order not to feel like the overly suspicious one, he made less noise about it.

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I kept on enjoying the embrace of my beloved maths teacher. On some days, he apologized after long hours of romance and rambled about how we are so caught up in a ‘bad mix’ but he never stopped. At every slight opportunity, he either stole a quick kiss or fondled my breast. He made me feel special and worked my body in certain ways that caressing no longer did it for me. I wanted more and I started begging for sex but he wouldn’t budge, maybe he was too scared to. I decoded he felt I was too young, so I made it a habit of promising him my virginity after I left secondary school.

THE LONG GUILT DESPITE BREAKING THE OBSESSION

I graduated and passed mathematics successfully and our abysmal romance continued but I would say I made that choice because I was already 18. Slowly I started to embrace the world and got butterflies for teenage to teenage love and thus ventured into a relationship that led to a fast death of my romance with my maths teacher.

I have flashbacks and most times, I wish it never happened. He was my shepherd but he failed at caring properly for his sheep. Gaining knowledge of several experiences and reading about pedophilia makes me cringe. Despite working on accepting my past completely, it’s tough to forgive myself. I confronted him for taking advantage of me which he admitted to and apologized. Before then, He tried to pass the blame but I was firm in stating my case. “Yo, I was barely 14 when it started. I can’t remember how it started but I am sure I did not engineer it”. Even if I did, should a grown man accept the advances of a minor? Shouldn’t he have punished me severely and reported me to the school and my parents? But No, unbeknownst to me, what I cherished was birthed out of ignorance by a man exploiting my dysfunctional childhood.

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I think I heard remorse in his tone but people can fake everything. I had to pretend I fully believe he’s deeply sorry so I could maintain my sanity. Looking back, he had a lot of girls around him, he probably did the same thing to them, though he made me believe he didn’t. I am working on accepting my past completely. I have forgiven him but I have not forgotten. Unfortunately, I still trust men, for someone who went through a lot with one, I thought a better one would have been compensation but I guess I am not just lucky with them lol.

How does one deal with childhood guilt that manifests itself even more especially with similar cases hitting the news daily? It’s like having to stitch a wound and having to reopen it recurrently against your will. Every time I hear a case of pedophilia/ molestation, a part of me breaks. A lot of us have a dark room shut in our hearts, we hope that it remains shut forever, but the mere thought of knowing the room exists is tormenting.

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Do you harbor a dark room too? Could be one that laid its foundation since your childhood or maybe recently. Would you share just like I’ve shared? Have you forgiven yourself? I decided not to abandon the business of living because of my past. I have summoned the courage to say my story. I hope one day, I attach a name to it. More importantly, I hope it encourages you to let go. Let’s talk about these skeletons… Also, what do you make of my experience? Would you have played the cards differently in my shoes? I’ll appreciate your comments below 😪👇👇.

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I am Muttering

Dear Mum, A Curious Conversation We’ll Never Have

By muttering minds March 19, 2021

9 min read

Dear mum, do you sometimes feel like my social life is ruined because of the man you married? I see it in your eyes, whenever you talk about some specific kids my age, the opportunities they get, and how you wish one of your kids will at least catwalk in similar shoes. You want more, I see it but for the most part, you’re scared you would never get it. The entirety of your wanting more is for your kids and you’re too scared to admit that things could have been more bliss but for the glitch in parenting. I know deep down when you have your sober reflections, you cut a larger piece of the blame for yourself. You detest the social awkwardness your children suffer but unfortunately, it is who we are now. Don’t be too hard on yourself mum, or fault the stricken strictness of your husband, I must confess, I’ve grown to enjoy the beauty of my personhood, I’m entertained by my baby steps even in adulthood.

Why worry about my love life mum? Did you expect I would have tied the knot so easy? You did I know, and it’s a shame. How do you plant corn seeds and expect to reap big tubers of yam? Every time you say “Ujunwa you must marry o, onye amuru na amu ibe ya (He that is birthed must birth)”, I get attracted to the frustration that strengthens the tone of your voice and the confused rotation of your eyes. You hate my nonchalance towards marriage I know, hence me making sure my first response is usually “Na so” (a payback maybe). Even though you emphasize my age, I know it’s the least of your worries. You’re scared something is wrong with me psychologically, you regret not creating a bond between us from inception. Well, I used to be a lot in my feelings when I was much younger about this, especially when I hear someone say “My mum is my best friend”, I lowkey hated them for having what I could never have, but along the line, I figured it’s still surreal to have best friends who are not mums.

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Hmmm, mum, you mean to tell me that one day, I’ll have to foot the bills of my kids as you and Dad do? Scary shit! I think of you sometimes and I wonder how rich you’ll have become if you didn’t birth any kids. “Mummy this! Mummy that! Mummy this” from every corner of the home even down to the extended family. When I was younger, I was lowkey scared, I thought you needed help psychologically because there was rarely a time I’ll barge into your room and not find you talking to yourself. “Watch mummy, she’s always talking to herself”, I once hinted at my sister frightfully, but the she-goat wasn’t as sensitive. Reminiscing on those moments as an adult, now I can relate. The bills were so overwhelming, I bet you cried your eyes silly sometimes but stupid me always bragged to my friends in high school about how rich my parents are. It’s not my fault, there was not one thing I asked that you didn’t make sure was provided, even when dad reiterated how trivial it was, you made sure I and my siblings got it.

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I had never felt so much guilt spending your money until the conversation we had some time last month and you openly said your salary before you retired banking was N120,000. What!! I held myself throughout the gist and amid the laughter, I was breaking inside and that night I suffered a lack of sleep and shed a few tears thinking about you and how much dad’s salary would have been too because he was also a banker. The salary you used in sustaining a home was my first job salary which I considered too small, I still cannot imagine how you were able to send 5 kids to good schools, clothing, feeding, etc. I regret tripling my school fees and money for handouts, I guess I was influenced by my brother who one time said to me “Anything they ask you to pay for in school, better double it, mummy and daddy have money, they’re just pretending”. For some reason, these words stuck with me through university, If I had known how much you were earning I swear I would have been considerate.

The Sex Conversation

Another thing I’ll be shocked to find out is if you still have sex mum. I watch you and sometimes your eyes tell that you’re unhappy for some key reasons yet you run with the bias that “mothers are supposed to keep the home, and not show fragility!” I see how you smile watching your favourite sitcom, ‘The Johnsons’, especially the hilarious lovey-dovey scenes of the couple characters Emu and Lucky. You wish you could share love gestures like that with your husband huh? I know. Do you still have sex? I doubt. I figured you got tired of wanting some things and adjusted, now you’re such a good actor who suffers a romantic awkwardness with her husband. I wish we could have a sex conversation, I long to know your definition of a spark and your fantasies about marriage. It’s glaring there’s a lot you hide in those cupboards locked in your eyes.

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I know you’re eager to know if I’m sexually active too but you’re not sure if my answer will break or merry your heart. You could have asked during the Vagina pills conversation, but you blew your shot by feigning ignorance as usual. Well, I suffered genophobia for decent years and all I needed were the words of a mum or better put, my mum, holding my hands and saying summarily to me “It’s not that deep”.

Genophobia dear mum — Source- Deviant Art

The Death Conversation

I hate how brutally honest you’re with death, although you’re dramatic when you cry over death, yet your move on is superb. When I lost my close friend Blessing and always cried my eyes out and got scared to sleep, I hated how you handled it. “You better stop crying, your friend has left this wicked world and you’ll leave one day too”, despite admitting you’ve never seen me that broken yet you refused me succour. You said the bitter truth though but still…you made me question your tendencies of being heartless especially when I hinted at seeing her in my dream and you quickly rebuked it. I went on to ask if you’ve seen your late father in the dream and with a much covered up hostile tone, you responded “What for? My father is resting peacefully, only dead people who are bad are seen in dreams”. This tops the list of the ignorant things you’ve ever said.

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If you die today Mum, I’ll still love to host you in my dreams just to have you echo my name, and annoy me with silly chores like calling me on the phone to help you get something from the fridge even though you’re seated literally at arm’s length from the fridge. I’ll still love to see you for sometime mum. You’re right about the need to move on after death, I just hate your approach in telling it.

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A Few Yet Huge Lessons

You are not among the most popular or powerful women in the world, not every mum is. We might not have had any tangible mother-daughter conversation, it doesn’t mean I haven’t learned anything from you. I have learned so much. Ooo boy! You’re a fervent preacher of ‘Savings’, although I somewhat hate how you preach it harshly and remind me of impending sufferings if I do not adhere. I know you think I’m a dummy in this aspect but ever heard of the saying “Never tell your parents how much you’re earning and how much you’ve saved”? Don’t be scared, I have some little saved. And your trenchant wit quote “Not having money is a sin” has become my mantra too, again don’t be scared, I wouldn’t end up poor.

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I learned the beauty of “Support being reciprocal” from you. When I observed that sometimes the blended tomatoes in the house is sometimes sour and other times sweet. I asked why and you opened up about rotating two different sellers. I complained that you ditched the bad tomato seller but you told me it wasn’t possible because both women buy from you. You added that support is reciprocal and that even if it meant having to eat not too good tomatoes for a week, you’ll bear it. Since that conversation mum, I make sure to support every friend’s business who reads my blog as much as I can. However, in an attempt to practice rotating among my two cloth vendor friends who are dedicated readers of my blog, like the bad tomato seller, one served me shitty customer service, to date, I have not gotten my dress. My encounter is not to nullify your lesson on support but opens my eyes on the unreliable nature of some folks.

lessons from my dear mum — Source- Purpose Focus Commitment

*******

Dear mum, most of the words written here are the conversations I wish we could have or you should know. This should be the right opportunity but unfortunately, you don’t read my blog. No, I’m not pissed, I promise. I only feel it’s a subconscious tit for tat as I hate to unhook your bra on most occasions. No hard feelings, only that you mostly show up when I’m having a not-so-good time.

ABOUT YOUR MUM

Last week was mother’s day and before it, I’ve been asking some close friends when exactly is Mother’s day cause I know there’s usually an established confusion with the dates, all thanks to varying church denominations. I had prepared pointers for this story some months ago and felt having it published on Mother’s Day would be great but how unfortunate, I missed the rapture. I was amused to see “happy mothers day mum”, on almost everyone’s story last Sunday and went on to query my friend Bubu for not keeping me abreast. Her hilarious response via chat was “Who you blame? This one is not acknowledged on Google, they said this one na pentecostal mother’s day, catholic’s own is still coming, then the one that is recognized worldwide is on its way too”.

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Hmmmmm, rather than miss the next and even the next, I decided to have this post come up today because there’s every likelihood that I’m gonna be caught unaware the umpteenth time. Do you know the recognized date for Mother’s day?

Mother's Day letter — Source- Learned English

Anyway, I want us to talk about our mothers today, not in the cliche way that we’re fond of, for instance “My mum is the best mum in the world”, you know that’s a fallacy right? I want this version of describing mums to be real, vulnerable, and unique. Those little and big bits you’ve observed about your mum, those words you wish you could say, conversations you should have had, let’s talk! Telling some sides of the story will most definitely hurt you, or make you tear up like I did when writing this, but I want you to be vulnerable in telling. If your mother is late or peradventure you were abandoned as a child, I urge you, don’t feel left out, please share. I’m sure you have memories and if not, there are still some things you wish you could say to them. Feel free.

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Like you’ve read mine, please leave yours in the comment section so we can all learn. You might not be able to write as long as I did, but I’m sure you can pick an intense part of the narrative to relay. So shall we👇👇.

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I am Muttering

Vent Room: An Unsent Letter To Your Ex(es)

By muttering minds January 15, 2021

9 min read

Love is patient, love is kind, it doesn’t envy, it doesn’t boast blah blah blah…really?! And why is ‘Funny’ not included as a quality of love, and how about ‘Premium Tears’? 😭Enough with Corinthians already😪! This verse of the bible is more than enough reason for me to clench to my unpopular opinion that the bible was made for a certain people at a certain time on earth. And if you ask me, just like constitutions need amendment every once in a while, the bible does too but that’s not our topic for today😶. So breathe🙇‍♀️…

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How many people have you loved on this earth? No, excluding your family members and the platonic friendships you’ve had. I mean the love that felt like love and made you fantasize a happy ever after but unfortunately, your ship sunk in the Bermuda Triangle🤭, leaving you to lick your wounds whilst premium tears rolled down from your eyes😭. Isn’t love funny? one moment you think THIS IS IT! And the next moment you’re rehearsing OMO X 100000000🤣.

should you take back your ex? — Source- Cosmopolitan

I was talking to my friend the other day and one talk led to another and then he started to gist me about an old lover of his who suddenly showed up in his life after he announced his flamboyant engagement online🤣. She had a scroll of things to say, things she never said while they were dating, and even while the premium break up tears were still fresh😏. She had to wait 6,000 years, maybe she thought it would be better to report him to Jesus directly hence her remaining mute, but unfortunately for her, Jesus is still soon to come👩‍🦯.

Hmmmmm it dawned on me that we are similar, me and her, and likewise you, and many other folks out there🤫. I’ve dated a handful of boys and some men. I have seen myself happy in love and also have my head hit the wall severally to cure my pain🥲. I’ve had a great time laughing in bed, most times naked, communicating my love to the best of me, and exchanging saliva and intellect too🤤. I’ve also had a downtime weeping for love while IN LOVE, I yearned for one that spoke my language, covers my flaws and the flawed inattentiveness of these men🤦‍♀️. Not that I was entirely good too, some of these men found me too slow, some, very threatening to their ego💁‍♀️. In all, we loved till we were unable to anymore.

Letting go of love doesn’t erase the memories, it doesn’t erase the secret thoughts we shallow buried in our minds🥺. These thoughts hurt sometimes and if only we had one more opportunity to converse with our ex-lovers and let them all out… if only…👩‍🦯

unsent letter to my ex — Source- We Heart It

Dear Panda:

I choose to address you as ‘Panda’ because it soothes your personality😊. No, you are not fat, but everyone loves a panda because their personality looks soothing and cute just by mere looking, and so is yours🤗. Before we started dating, I had a deep crush on you and carefully carved my steps so you’ll notice me😏. And the first day we spoke remains the only time I’ve ever been happy to come home and not find the house keys🤣🤣. If my sister had left the keys, you wouldn’t have found me stranded to involve me in a conversation🤭. The first mistake of our love was having it in secrecy and no darling, I do not blame you, I was barely 18 and my elder brother will slit your throat if he found out😑. Then again, you loved the church (I hope you still do🤥), and was the hero, the peacemaker, the exceptional final year student, the first son…yen yen yen😑… so many titles that made you feel it was a grave sin against your God and mankind when we had our first kiss and precum wetted your boxers😶.

“I feel like I’ve sinned, getting romantic with you made me feel so dirty…When I was young, a prophet told my mother that I shouldn’t be involved with a lady…” Wait! How many hours did it take you to rehearse these lines before you interrupted my beauty sleep for midnight calls🤣🤣? Till today, I wonder how a twenty-something-year-old would leave an 18-year-old hanging with some talk coated in cowardice😏. You really wish I was scared of prophets🤣. Well, because of you, I now hate religious fanatics, avoid first sons like a plague, and men who are book smart but street dull👩‍🦯.

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Let’s be fair, for an 18-year-old, I tried, I communicated unlike you who would rather visit your religious book to select words to say to me☹. After dragging both ends of the rope with hopes that when I got into the university, we’ll have a share of freedom to properly love, you still had some hogwash lines reserved for me🥺. “Hey mama! Just have fun, blend with the environment, don’t feel limited to explore”…this was after I asked you if you were still in. What a shame you couldn’t declare your lack of interest boldly🙄. For a fact, I’m thankful you left actually because I surely exploreeeeeeeddddddd and you my love, would have been a burden👩‍🦯.

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In all, thank you for evoking the writer skills in me🥰. Before I met you, I thought writers descended from space but seeing you write kickstarted my own journey🤗. I still have your writings in my journal.

how many exes you got? — Source- Skill Share

Dear Tortoise

The one who is very likely mistakened for slow but you are fire😉. Very intelligent and knows a bit about everything. Frankly, I didn’t want to date you😶, I mean how can I date a guy in my department and worse of the same level with me🤢? It was so against my rules but then, you’ve been long into the friend zone and I thought this nigga sure deserves a promotion🤭. I felt the weight of dismay and disappointment in your face when you discovered I was a virgin🙃. If only you could turn back the hands of time right! but too late. Mehn! All the major fights we had was about sex, you couldn’t imagine how it is that someone could be scared of sex😵, what a shame😑, despite all the knowledge you had, you never read of genophobia👩‍🦯. I regret all the times I cried to sleep because you wouldn’t touch me except it was sex. Trust me, with the way you always glorified sex, you must be foolish to think that I never knew you were cheating the whole time of our almost two years🤧.

“Why do I feel like this is our last conversation?” Nah, you assured me. Said you couldn’t stay any longer but promised we’ll see in the morrow😒. I tried to believe you but a still voice beneath kept yelling; “This is it! This is the last time you’ll see him”. And that was it, you never showed up again😭. I felt insulted reaching out to you with a lengthy note via WhatsApp, and all you responded was “Aiit”🤦‍♀️. You didn’t even acknowledge me with respect and not abbreviate the word ‘Alright’. What exactly was alright in all I sent you 🥺?

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You never reached out, I was miserable😖. Days turned into weeks and weeks decayed into months yet no words from you😪. I needed closure, I hoped that one day you would call. I was always anxious to pick calls from unsaved numbers hoping it’s you saying hello from the other side😓. But No. Frankly, It would have been better if you were dead because my situation felt like someone who knew not the whereabouts of their loved one and every day they hoped they would come home or better still receive news of their death so they could move on😔.

I wonder, so if I didn’t put a call across after almost two years of ghosting, you wouldn’t have?😏 Well, sweet to know we’ve buried the hatchet and you remain one of my favorite persons🤗. And I also hope you’ve been enjoying all the sex in the world because just maybe that’s the core of your existence.

Hey Chameleon!!

Chameleon because when I feel I have figured you out, you switch to a new color😖. Our relationship was extremely loving yet extremely confusing too; a detrimental polar opposite🤦‍♀️. We had so much love to give yet hoarded it in ego and replaced it with fervent miscommunication🙇‍♀️. Gosh!! We argued about everything and became too toxic to stay together yet not bold to leave🙍‍♀️. You made me reckon with the lines “love is not everything” and I’m grateful I mustered the bravery to say I wasn’t interested anymore🥲. I didn’t do it for just me baby, we needed it. I know you’re still shocked we didn’t end up together, I am sometimes too, and whenever it hits me I say within “You did what was best girl”👩‍🦯.

How can two grown adults who say they love each other go radio silent on each other for three weeks and to think we even raised the bar a certain time for two months😱!? That was the last straw for me and I remember whispering aloud under my breath “MY MUMU DON DO”🤭. My personality was too strong for you and rather than communicate your displeasure you’d rather look for a way to bruise my ego😔. All the times you said “Uju now, but I was only joking”, I never believed you cause I’m a fan of the saying “people hide under the aegis of jokes to say what they do not have the courage to say normally”. And then everything was always a competition, I got so scared of breaking my good news to you, maybe I always read your gestures wrongly, just maybe… anyway, I hope you’ve found the love you deserve🤗.

DID I OPEN YOUR SCARS TOO?

Still have a bunch of stuff to say but I’ve been getting some mild jabs that my stories are becoming way too long 🤣🤣 so I’ll just continue on Naked Minds. Did any of my exes remind you of yours? Anyway, I decided to make this post an open diary aka a vent room for us to talk about the unsaid stuff we never said to our ex(es)🥲. And No! It’s not just only three guys I’ve dated, I felt so ashamed having to count all my fingers and begun counting all over again when my friend asked during our conversation “But Uju, how many guys you don date self?”… while counting, we both burst into uncontrollable laughter🤣🤣.

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Well, these are the only three I recognize, the rest can face back please😑 …So over to you, I’ll like you to share those unsaid words you wish you could say to your ex(es), doesn’t have to be something lengthy or bad and you don’t have to talk about all of them (one or two is fine) or address them by their real names🐄🐖. Also if you have any reservations concerning any of my exes, feel free to say in the comment🤧. Remember, this is my side to the story, they might have a better or unappealing narrative about me but I really don’t care👩‍🦯.

Also, do you feel it’s right to still maintain communication with an ex? Let’s talk Mutterers, this should be enlightening and fun😁… leave me your comment👇…and never forget, this is a safe place😝👇👇.

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I am Muttering

Our Names and the Nickname Disease

By muttering minds November 24, 2020

8 min read

After one of the members on Naked Minds called my attention for using real-names instead of nicknames of fellow subscribers in reposting responses to stories, I made up my mind that I was going to apologize properly by letting you all in on my many nicknames; some of which are lost in space, I hope never to find the need of them again😐.

Nicknames are cool, at least for me. Lowkey, I suffer from a fevered admiration for people who get called by their nicknames so often that even their close friends forget what their real names sound like. Do you have people like this around you? Well, I got one, his nikky is ‘Effect’…my nigga’s so hardworking his peers and superiors felt an uncommon urge to christen him again😄. His real name and his abilities are like oil and water, gargle at your own risk, they both won’t gel. Wondering what it is? Well, I don’t know either🙈…met him as Effect, and Effect he shall continue to be…what I don’t know can’t hurt me🤡.

IF YOU LAUGH…I SHOOT!

Well, getting a unique and popular nickname was a goal for me in secondary school. It felt tech to own one, I wanted to belong by all means. And even if I said no to the mantle, these slum/parting books staged themselves at playful corners waiting to embarrass me🤕. How do I tell the owner of a Slum book that I got no nickname to fill? and even if I left it vacant without her knowledge, eventually, in the long future when she revisits it, she’s hit suddenly by the trauma of how weird I was in high school. Not me! I didn’t want anyone to have such memories about me😂😂.

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So I ferried on a nickname quest🚣‍♀️. I began asking friends what they felt will soothe me for a nickname, specifically one they can call me any time even in public. I remember brainstorming with Ayomide, my bunkmate, and some others. As expected, they coined appellations from my English name ‘Doris’. Sure you can already predict the kind of nicknames they came up with. ‘Dodo’, ‘Dori Baby’, even the spelling backward jinx ‘Sirod’. Yuck! 🤮

I wasn’t having it. They all felt cliche. “Common now, I’m bigger than all this jargon🙄”, I often said this within me anytime they suggested some dementia allusive nikky. Do you ever know what you want sometimes but then shy to say it, instead you look for someone to help push you to your death so that at the end of the day, you can have a name to blame when things fall apart?😹 This was the game I was playing but how disappointing, no one thought in my direction😫.

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“How about something sexy and mischievous?”, I suggested in a low tone. Trust the girls on this one 🤣🤣🤣, names started flying up and down. Guess the name I settled for 😭😭…‘SEXY BREEZE’ !!! oh, my days!!! Looking back now, I feel so embarrassed. Were my bunch of friends so stupid or I was the stupid one for agreeing to be coined a nickname for a tomfool?🤒 I definitely was so stupid! You need to see the way I blushed whenever someone called me ‘Sexy Breeze’. It felt so dope mehn😂😂!. But unfortunately, the name didn’t bring as much popularity as expected so I ferried on another quest🚣‍♀️.

Thanks to my very stupid friends again, I was caught between choosing ‘MYSTIQUE’ or ‘SEDUCTIVE MYSTIQUE’. Being an Oliver twist, I decided to do both. Depends on what mood I was in whenever someone handed me their slum book to fill. If I felt like a ‘Mystique’, then Mystique it is; if I felt spicy at the time, then ‘Seductive’ came before the ‘M’😹.

I still didn’t make the hall of fame with any of them. The only person who made me feel really welcomed with the name was one of my friends Tope, who had her feet swept off in admiration that she had to nikky herself ‘SEDUCTIVE SEDUCTRESS’ How insane?!😂😂 I remember hailing her to her face and screaming “bloody copy cat” in my mind😫. Asides from my unreserved hate for copycats, I deserved to be the only ‘seduction’ in school dammit! 😐

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Reflecting on how stupid the nicknames were, I should have left her to bear all of them. To date, Ayomide still taunts me with these nicknames. So if I become president tomorrow, this is how she’ll reveal one of my many foolish decisions in life right😫! Wicked girl!🤕 Not like hers was any better, who the f*** bears ‘Ayomzy Delight’? Only hoodlums😂😂

STILL FOOLISH?

Joining Facebook after secondary school and seeing the way people spelled their usernames started to tickle my fancy. For example, someone who bears ‘Ayomide’ refines the spelling to ‘Haryohmide’. Mehn that shit looked so dope to me and if I don’t belong, who will🙈? But it was so heartbreaking, all my many remixes didn’t sound nice and I wasn’t with my foolish friends anymore to help me figure it out. Looking back now, I bless God o, otherwise they would have given me a remix best for simpletons😂😂. However, I got one, all thanks to my ex.

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What I was searching for was right beside me but I couldn’t see it… One day I decided to check my baby boy’s phone to see what he used in saving my number and boom! I saw ‘DHAUREYZ’… this was his remix for ‘DORIS’. It felt so cool, I adopted it without blinking, and to date, I use it for virtually everything; pseudonyms, emails, social media, etc. I know you are trying so hard to pronounce it 🤣🤣🤣… take it easy on yourself, a lot have bitten their tongues on that quest.

DREAMS ACTUALLY DO COME THROUGH…

And the last one…. Hopefully not the least🎯…My long lost dream of having a nickname that replaces my own name finally came to pass in the university. Hurrayyyyy!!!💃💃 Blow the trumpets!!!🥳🥳 Oh, my days! Even though I blacklisted the hostel because of my experience with infection, I must admit my time spent there was exhilarating.

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I like to believe I was a hot cake, I mean hot inside the brain o and maybe a portion of hot outside🤡. Then I used to be more involved in poetry, brewing, and writing everywhere in the school (for those who cared to read anyway😁). And then I got big news that I was nominated for the Nigerian Writers Award, for Poetry Writer of the year category. I was more shocked than excited when I saw the news online (this is a story for another Naked Minds gist😆). That type of shock where you recheck for the umpteenth time to see if it’s really your name and if it is, you’re still in shock because you think the news is for someone else who bears your exact names. That’s how I felt.

I broke the news to one of my close friends Victoria and before I knew it, she started hailing and shouting ‘UJU MALOO’… what is ‘MALOO’??? I had no idea but it sounded cool, although with a blend of ‘razness’, I loved it. That was how the name flew🚀. I stayed in the hostel for two years and throughout the time, I was either called ‘Maloo’ or ‘Uju Maloo’. Maloo is a Yoruba word and depending on the caller’s tone, it could mean ‘Go’ or ‘Come’. But to Victoria, she meant ‘Go’, more like “keep on moving and winning Uju”.

Read: You Can Never Be Yourself!

To cut the story short, ‘Maloo’ faded as soon as I left the hostel😓. But of course, I still saw some of the hostel mates who would always shout it out whenever they saw me on the walkway or somewhere in the school😄. It always felt like home. Even now, whenever I hear someone speaking Yoruba and says ‘Maloo’, it has a way of putting a genuine smile on my face😁.

THE ESSENCE

Although added a little spice to this article on publishing here, it’s actually a Naked Minds exclusive. You better join cause I won’t be betraying my coven anytime soon again😫.

Asides that this is an intended fun post to get us to unwind and sign out gradually from this puzzle-twisting year, I wanted to poke the essence of names🌚. Names are either powerful or impotent. Some are sweet, some are salty to the ears. Some sound so sweet yet a profitless meaning💩…some are an ear sore, but got beautiful meaning. You hear some names and you’re like “Huh? You mean your parents actually gave you this name😳”…that embarrassing! I wouldn’t want to mention names lol.

Most part of me wanting a nickname by force was because I didn’t see my two names as good enough and soothing for my personality. Have you ever pondered on your name(s) and asked yourself “why me”? Why did my parents choose to call me this? Well, I did for ‘Doris’, still stuck on trying to love the name🙁. I couldn’t fall in love with it because of the many unappealing tones people prefer to pronounce it😤. I wish I could insert an audio sample🤧. But I’ve always loved Obianuju (since I got mature though), and even invested more love for it after my parents told me I was named ‘Obianuju’ because shortly after my birth they both bagged a huge salary increase at work. Obianuju means ‘Born into wealth’ …but the meaning of Doris always fluctuates between the ‘bad and good’ whenever I look it up😏. There’s never been a unified meaning, I think whoever invented the name was six feet buried in confusion at the time😬.

Read: Parents Are The Best Pretenders

Have you ever reflected on your names before?🤔 Heard some of you got like seven and counting🤠, unlike me, I wasn’t fortunate enough to be named by all the prominent members of my extended family🤣🤣. I’ll love to know your names and what you feel about them. Would you say they resonate with your personality or your parents deserve 600 years for such cruelty? 😂😂

Hmmmmm about my many nicknames 🤐… what’s yours and how did you come by it? I like to believe the way some of these nikky’s sound is the reason we choose them, not necessarily what they mean🤭. Did you at some point want a nickname so bad like I did? Do you have a past regrettable nickname🤣🤣? And you see that name, yes! That very one you use on IG and Twitter… How did you arrive there? ‘Sexy posh’, ‘Dragon’, ‘Barbie doll’, ‘Cupcake’, “Renegade’ …Is that you? 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

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Warning!!! Do not try to taunt me with my first three nicknames, otherwise I go comot ya teeth just now😂😂. I’m curious to hear yours, I will try not to laugh. Common… Let me in😌, leave me a comment 😂😂👇👇

P.s. I want to propose that parents should leave about one or two name slots open until a child is grown so we can name ourselves according to our personalities. Dear future kids, I got you😆!

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Sour Home: How Do I Deal With My Father’s Hatred?

By Mutterers Club June 20, 2020

4 min read

It has been an insufferable journey living with an abusive parent. One who thinks less about others and feels on top of the world. Was God wrong to have brought me to this world as his child? My father has been abusing me since I arrived on this earth and became aware of myself. No, not the sexual kind of abuse but a father’s hatred; emotional torment.

You know why? My sex kills him each day. He hates that I am a female child and worse off, he hates my mother even more. What more can a woman who the creator blessed with only girls as children do if the man she bore them for curses the day he walked down the aisle with her? I have watched her countless times get disrespected, taken for granted, and abused both verbally and physically. I refuse to question God in all but…

father's hatred — I have watched her countless times get disrespected, taken for granted, and abused

Where I come from, the female child is worthless. Yes! Even in this digital era, she has no right and shouldn’t be seen let alone heard. This isn’t human but unfortunately, I and my sisters carry the burden. There is something about broken parenting that messes with the mental state of a child. I am treated badly by the man whose shoulder I should be resting on and calling proudly “FATHER”. For every time we speak, never are there kind words.

Read: Diabetes Snatched Him Away From Us

It feels so strange whenever I come across someone gushing so much sweetness about their father. I cannot relate because all I have known is a father’s hatred. I was brought up to be scared of my father, even till now as an adult, the fear eats me up that I don’t believe there are good fathers out there. If I were God, I wouldn’t have blessed him with kids but no God already gave him wonderful and lovely girls whom he disregards and calls “BUNCH OF DISAPPOINTMENT” at will.

He doesn’t care about our basic needs talkless of supporting our ambition. To be frank, I wish God will just answer my silent prayers already. What do you make of a man who physically and verbally abuses his wife in front of his children? What do you think of a man who hits his children for mere things he could be calm and talk to them about? What do you think of a man who listens to outsiders other than his family?

The thought is overflowing and it breaks my heart every day. It makes me think less of life. I don’t need a soothsayer to tell me that he doesn’t wish me good in life. For every penny he spends on our tuition or whatever, he is only concerned about what he will gain. He doesn’t believe in helping a child start up something he or she wants to achieve in life. Oftentimes he will threaten to chase me and my sisters out of his house.

Read: What do I do when my dad is horrible and I can’t take it anymore?

He doesn’t provide as a father should yet his paranoia drives him bonkers. He screams to the rooftop asking us where we got the money from whenever we met our needs without his aid. One thing I regret is that I am a good child. I wish I was so spoilt and rude so I could serve him a taste of his own madness. I feel I wasted my time in the university by not mixing up with a bad company, maybe I could have made enough money never to return to his house.

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Is home really where the love is like people say? What is God’s plan that I have to go through this phase in life? Living with a father’s hatred? When I was younger I used to tell myself that his bullshit won’t matter in some year’s time, but here I am, I have dealt with it long enough but still not used to it.

With my eyes filled with tears, I write this. I really wished he was a lovely father, I wish I can be home and have a peaceful moment. I wish I could be proud to call him ‘dad’ because I feel there is more to calling him that than he just assuming the tag of a father. How painful is it to have lived above 25 and still be treated like a 12-years-old? It is painful knowing that I cannot love my father like a friend. I hate that whenever he calls me there is always the feeling of “you must have done something wrong”.

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I have no regret being a girl child because I know I will do better than even a male child. The only regret I have is not being accepted by the only man who should matter in my life. How do I deal with my father’s hatred?

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Unpopular Opinions about Rape, the Rapist, and the Victim

By muttering minds June 11, 2020

9 min read

“If your boyfriend or husband pounds you really hard when having sex, best believe that human with three legs is a rapist. There is no such thing as hard or angry sex. Is he a hammer? Maybe he is but girl, your vagina is not a drilling site. If he claims he hasn’t raped anyone before then watch out, the day you say no to his sexual advances, you might just be his first victim. SEX NOT VIOLENCE. ONLY A RAPIST OR A POTENTIAL ONE APPLIES FORCE DURING INTERCOURSE. This is my candid take on rape and the definition of a rapist”– Christine Okon.

Hmmmmmmm… Rape is like old wine. The more we get older; the odious act gets stronger at serving severe deafening blows to the society that living becomes a frightening experience. The death of 22-year-old Uwavera Omozuwa, a Nigerian and Microbiology student at the University of Benin who was raped and savagely beaten to death while reading at a local parish of the Redeemed Christain Church of God in Edo State last week not only became a foreground for a reawakening on the sexual menace but also opened a can of worms.

Uwavera’s experience has up until now served as a backdrop for rape victims to open up about their long endured hurt while supporting the #SAYNOTORAPE movement. The victims each day, find a comforting way to relay their truth and call out their abusers. Let’s not forget the gender war too. Almost half of the male folk feel it is a lopsided attack and an unfair generalization to tag them as the sex who rapes. “MEN GET RAPED TOO”, they clamor! But you see, who screams the loudest is usually gifted the most comfortable sit by the audience, that’s one of the underrated rules of life. Men should learn to speak up more.

Read: Rape Stats In Nigeria

Ranging from the blue blood to the privileged class and even the ones, who live down in the mouth, comprised the CALL OUT list. And asides the common male-on-female rape, some of the rape victims narrated their experiences on female-on-male rape, male-on-male rape, and female-on-female rape. Does this settle the gender war? Maybe, but that’s a far cry away from the bone of contention here. One thing that remains unsettled is that rape cases will continue to stir too much dust in the society and this is because while it looks like we are fighting together against it, the sexual menace (rape) and the perpetrators (the rapists) are perceived differently by all and sundry.

You’re probably wondering how I arrived at this conclusion right? Well if you read stories frequently here, you’ll know that I am always more interested in what people are not saying or projecting more; the minority opinions that carry so much weight when looked at introspectively.

Unpopular Opinion About Rape

As of last week, virtually everyone had something to say about rape. Stemming from the objective angles to the pity parties and then the loose minds who say it just as it hits their head, all lent their voices to the best of their knowledge. Among several opinions I read through, the straw that broke the camels back for me was this;

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“Well, this might not make sense but I feel it’s a simple truth. When a case of rape is about to start, instead of dragging with them, can the girls just allow him or them instead of sustaining injuries that can even lead to death? Just saying o. Some will even be scared she is offering them willingly. Cause I don’t see the point of fighting back when your strength can’t last you for a minute. Just accept it instead of accepting forcefully with slaps, punch, bite, weapon, and all. Okay, imagine a house that got robbed. Nobody will try to fight back once they see a gun. Isn’t that like rape too?”

You see, no matter how sensitive an issue is, there will always be warped opinions, some, you’ll wonder what planet the individual hails from. But do we shove them away because they are culture shocks compared to our own opinions? No. All through my life, I’ve never heard someone think this way about rape. But if he can then they’ll definitely be more on his side who hold out of the ordinary opinions too. At this point, my curiosity began to age so I decided to put it up for a debate on my WhatsApp status.

Read: Abusive Relationships; Why Walking Away Is Not An Option Yet

So I posted the picture and captioned “Seeing this, I realized a lot of us hold uncanny opinions about sensitive issues. It takes a level of courage to speak up”. Then in my next slide, I asked “Who is a rapist? Kindly define in your own understanding”. Then the comments came rolling, this explains the quoted text in the first paragraph.

Like I predicted he wasn’t the only one who would hold the opinion, a friend responded- “I second this opinion. Honestly, rape is fucked up, It’s an awful thing to happen to anybody but if anybody is at that point, I don’t think it’s wise to fight back. From personal experience, fighting back just increases provocation and the likelihood of you being seriously injured. If someone’s pinning you down, especially someone who is physically stronger than you, there’s barely any form of fighting back that will save you tbh. Instead, it will just aggravate the situation and might give the rapist justification to inflict more physical pain on you. Just saying”

While these two stuck to their guns, counter-attacking opinions began flooding in;

Tunde Onakoya said: “You know I really do think this might just be the opinion of a guy because it’s really silly. What people should be advocating for is to let rapists not rape people, not that you should negotiate with them. It’s like saying you want to negotiate with terrorists on how to destroy and you say “don’t bomb everywhere, just shoot few people”. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Really? Consensual rape? It’s crazy! What’s the guarantee that after the consensual rape, you won’t be killed. The psychopath will gladly kill u without any guilt because in his words “she enjoyed it”- Queen Ede opined.

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Similar to Queen’s stand, Oreoluwa Osinuga said “the thing is that they are thinking of the physical effect rather than the mental. Rape messes up with ladies mentally and you might think you are smart and act that way, letting them have their way but what if they kill you after? The point of this whole thing is not the act itself”

Read: From Abuse To Addiction

Ajibola concluded this round by saying “Rape is a terrible act and under no circumstance should the victim willingly give in. Fight even if it means you’re gonna get battered. On the other hand, shouldn’t living be the most important thing under any circumstance? I condemn rape and the punishment under the law should be heavier than it’s ever been anywhere around the world. Some people never get over it even after passing through the horrible experience.”

Rape victim — Fight even if it means you’re gonna get bartered.

Unpopular Opinion from The Victims Eyes.

While that round of debate fizzled, someone who chooses to be Anonymous sent me this;

“I could never report it to anyone because I was afraid it was my fault. I never wanted to be harmed and that’s why I never tried to fight back, or why I pretended to be asleep the day my uncle snuck into my room at night and had his hands all over my body, I did not want to embarrass him and myself. I did not want to be that child. The child with the stigma. The bad egg. The one who’s story got retold time and time again. So I kept quiet about it. I did not want to be the reason my uncle got sent out of the house. I did not want to be pitied and treated differently from the rest of my siblings. I blamed myself for everything. It was easier than speaking up and causing a fuss. If I didn’t speak up, it would only be in my head and it would make it less real, that’s what I thought, so I kept quiet. I mean how else could I tell my parents about my cousin and the painful things he did to me without upsetting everyone? Or the fact that my uncle kept on dipping his fingers into me every time no one else was around. Who would believe me? I blamed myself for not speaking up, but never ever found the strength to speak up even if I wanted to.”

This is my first time coming in contact with a victim who pities her abuser and chooses family peace over hers, I’m convinced there are many others like her. What do you make of this?

Who Is A Rapist?

Remember I asked that they define who a rapist is in their own understanding. The weirdest response I got was that of Christine Okon which I used as a preamble for this post.

Going forward, Rhemakana Gilbert defined a rapist as “a man who is unable to understand the concept of consent. He is driven by a sense of entitlement over the bodies of women and holds the view that he is ruled by his urges. He believes that women should adjust their theology to make up for his lack of self-control and understand when he needs a release and cannot control himself.”

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With an emphasis on the word ‘conscious’, Ifeanyichukwu Ogbuoji said: “A rapist is one who forces his way into the thighs or anals of another without the person’s CONSCIOUS consent.”

Read: Domestic Violence! How Many More Jonny Depps To Be Uncovered?

“If you take advantage of my body without my consent, You are a Rapist! If I agree to have sex with you and along the line, I asked you to stop but you refused and continued forcing yourself on me, You are a Rapist! 🤷🏽‍♀🤷🏽‍♀🤷🏽‍♀” Delight Loveday said.

“A rapist is someone whose libido is higher than his thoughts,” Cupid said.

“A rapist is someone who sees another human that is fully clothed and decides to imagine them naked. A rapist is someone who is capable of murder.”- Amaka Enyinnaya

The Bane of Disparity

The disparity in our perception about rape, in my opinion, is what kills the fight even before it is fought. I choose to feature these responses because they strike different. The majority in a good way and a select few leaves the rooftop leaking.

While you cannot beat a person for having a different opinion from yours, we must bear in mind that some battles cannot be fought without a unison of opinion; the fight against rape is one of such.

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If at this stage some of us still hold that the rape victim is to blame rather than the rapist… if at this stage some of us prefer to weigh which gender feels the brunt more… if at this stage some of us believe indecent dressing is the primary trigger for rape… if at this stage the rape victim chooses to remain silent, then we cannot win this fight against rape.

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What does this tell you about rape? What does this tell you about a rapist? What does this tell you about the victim? And most importantly, what does this tell you about YOU?

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My First Sex Experience: Take Back Home…

By muttering minds May 4, 2020

5 min read

Finally a wrap on our First Sex Experience Series. Aaaaaahhhhh!!! Drum rolls!! Belly tingling💃💃 and plenty of cheerssssss🥂….lol😁. The stories featured no doubt were a roller coaster of so many emotions ranging from pity to relief, gross grease to triggers, fragility to laughter and of course lessons. So tell me, did you learn a thing or more?

Lessons cannot be swept under the carpet after getting an undiluted portion of people’s lives, so I’ll go first. Before I proceed I would like to especially thank those who submitted their stories. You see, penning the story is not the actual deal here but finding a balance with the courage to look back on the gory scenes ( to those who had an unpleasant first time), details, emotions and then carving a silver lining is everything. THANK YOU. Also, my sincere apologies to those who I couldn’t post their stories, the fault is on me, your stories were good enough. I undermined the turnout, I placed only a week for the series because I didn’t think many people were going to share their stories but the turnout surpassed my expectations.

first time sex — Lessons cannot be swept under the carpet…

Now The Lessons

One of the purposes of the series was to prove if some sex myths are real, some of which I included while announcing the series. However, reading through the stories, I came to the conclusion that they are not myths but actually facts although not evident in everyone’s first time. Below are some of the things I learned;

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Change The Narrative: Dealing with abuse is tough. If there is any lesson I wouldn’t miss from the first entry, “A ‘Red Episode’ Turned ‘Fairytale Romance”, is the strength shown by the writer. I admire her for taking charge of her memory, how she was able to forgo the first experience, and clinched to the better second is everything. Asides from sex, I most definitely will replicate this act going forward, choosing to see only the good and burying the bad.

Be Mindful Of Who You Keep Close: ‘From Abuse To Addiction’ is a biting epiphany. It proves that many people molested at a tender age were either molested by relatives or close parties. I will end this by quoting what a follower on Twitter, @oshiombo_alaka said in reaction to the story “What is happening to your children when you are away from home? Are the people you entrust your children with worthy of the responsibility? The failure to promote moral uprightness will hurt every one of us. Are you willing to stand for what is right in everything around you?”

Pain, Joy… And The Clingy Bits: One story that checked some of our proposed sex myths is ‘Pleasure And Gateway To My Insecurities’. The writer having acknowledged the pain and pleasure lets us in on the aftermath of her sex experience. Despite admitting to having her first sex with someone she was heels over head in love with, she found herself getting insecure and clingy and that became the death of the relationship. It made me realize that most break-ups that occur after a girl’s first sex might not actually be because the dude got what he wanted but because insecurities and incessant fights play a vital role.

A Rise In Ego: hehehehehehehe… yes, I am laughing and if you followed the series you can easily figure out the culprit story. Yesssss…‘Teenage Sexventure Gone Wild’. The writer was apparently the only one who decided not to play anonymous and rather than judge him, you end of having a good laugh. He checked one of our sex myths, ‘ego boost’ for men. Most men had their ego a step ahead after laying with a woman for the first time. In Joshua’s words… “Socially my circle of friends changed, I stopped hanging around my mates but with the so-called big boys who introduced me to alcohol and more sex…”

For You Or Society: ‘A Tale Of Two Rookies’ takes off the cloak on celibacy and virginity. Do you understand the importance of celibacy and keeping your virginity? Or you are one of those lost in society’s yardstick for measuring virtue. Why celibacy? What happens when you do or don’t? Everyone ought to have a meaning for themselves, not just jumping on the bandwagon.

Curiosity Killed The Cat: Ideally reading the title ‘Taste And See…’ one is curious to know what the writer tasted and found out. Did he taste sex to become an addict or did he taste sex to flee? You never know until you read. If you are curious to know how sex feels chances are you’ll end up regretting your first try because of the many expectations you had.

Observations/ Suggestions

Special thanks to everyone who ensured good publicity for the series by posting daily updates via their social media handles. Despite the sensitivity surrounding the word ‘sex’ and backlash from rigid minds, some of you kept publicizing regardless. Sincerely, I’m taken by your kind gesture.

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While the First Sex Experience Series was on, some parties who were unable to catch up asked if there was an e-book available for download. So I got thinking, should we create an e-book for the series? Perhaps it will also be a good idea to include all the stories that didn’t make it to the website. On the other hand, I feel the individuals who have their stories featured have a huge role in deciding whether or not. Please let me know your opinion in the comment section.

Now the deal with the comment section! I’m curious to know why you read and zooooooommmmmmmm… are the articles so uninteresting and not cogitating enough for me to get your feedback? Remember it’s Muttering Minds, if you don’t comment your reservations here, where else? So shall we…? Let’s start with the lessons you learned from the sex series, One! Two! Ready! Go!

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My First Sex Experience: Pleasure and Gateway to my Insecurities

By Mutterers Club April 28, 2020

4 min read

Every girl’s dream or should I say most is to wait until their wedding night to serve their cherry on a gold platter to that special someone for a pop. I was like most girls but my race was cut short after I stumbled upon his cute face. He had the most amazing smile and set of teeth I’ve ever seen and to crown it all, he was a senior member of the beard gang association… Oh, how I love beards!

Shortly after I gained admission into the university, I ran into Mr X, we had a lot of things in common which made our friendship kick off at a fast pace. We were inseparable and did almost everything together, including studying. He was consistent with checking up on me and always ensured I was comfortable by dropping gifts and goodies frequently. We both knew we wanted more than just basic friendship, but he had a girlfriend so it was a red flag.

Catch Up On Our First Series

first sex — To crown it all, he was a senior member of the beard gang association… Oh, how I love beards!

A new session began, and lord knows I couldn’t wait to set my eyes on him, I had missed him so much. Sometime during the holidays on one of our long phone conversations, he mentioned he had ended the relationship with his girlfriend, I was excited. As we kicked off the new semester he asked me out, I guess you already know what my answer was.

Virtually every chance I got, I ensured my lips and tongue underwent a journey all over his lips, accompanied with some sexy lip bites…yes I love kissing, shoot me!!! and being a chairlady of the big boobs gang, I showed a little cleavage and skin whenever I could.

For the first few weeks in the relationship, we were touring only the north region and never went down south. Although he made few attempts I always repelled his wishes mainly because of the scary stories I heard about how messy and painful first sex is. I wasn’t ready for such pain. Weeks went by until I brought myself to terms that it had to be done. O boy! I tasted the forbidden fruit and I could tell already that it was going to purge me because I was definitely going back for more. Although painful, my first sex was sweet and worth it.

I was a 19 years old girl who was deeply in love and felt it was the right time. I understood the implication of my decision. Prior to losing my virginity, I never saw myself as a jealous or insecure girlfriend but afterwards, these sides began to show. It seemed as though every girl I saw him talk to or hang out with was trying to replace me. Something in me felt like he had had the cookie and was ready to move over to the next available one. Crazy insecure thoughts right?

I couldn’t let him in on what my insecurities were to avoid looking desperate, God forbid anyone should perceive me that way. My insecurities built up and caused a huge dent in our relationship. I doubted every move and words he said and you know being in a relationship where one party doesn’t trust the other creates way for doom. After several attempts to make things work, we came to the conclusion of going our separate ways though we still remained friends.

Looking back, I wouldn’t change anything even if I had the power to because every act shaped me into the lady that I am now, and truthfully I don’t think it would be fair to deprive my younger self of all the enjoyment I had. With him I had my best sexual experiences.

Sex is not overrated, it is a beautiful experience and opening yourself to another being especially someone you’re deeply in love with is amazing. I used to think that I was a sex freak, and can never go celibate because whenever I was with him I can’t seem to keep my hands to myself but look at me now, I haven’t been with anyone in over seventeen months.

If you’re still flying your V-card (still a virgin) and you’re caught between crossroads on what to do, don’t compromise for anyone whatsoever. Whatever you do should be on your own terms.

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I am Muttering

My First Sex Experience: Something Worth Sharing Or?

By muttering minds April 20, 2020

4 min read

My first sex experience was remarkable. Everything I expected and more.

Some backstory. For the longest time, I thought there was something “wrong” with me sexually. I couldn’t masturbate. I was terrified of sex and extremely scared of penises. I was convinced I’d never have sex.

Fast forward to my (ex) boyfriend. I told him this when we were friends, he was very understanding. Once we started dating, he assured me we could do as much or as little as I was comfortable with. We started off slow, spending a month and a half getting familiar with our bodies and what made us tick.

No one was home. We were getting ready to leave for dinner (it was a surprise for his birthday). Something just told us today was the day. I was filled with anticipation as he double-checked that the condom was in place. I was so excited. He held my hand and asked me if I was sure about this. It was his first time too. I assured him I was more than sure.

And honest to God, as cliche and cheesy as this is, it was “magical.” I didn’t feel any pain. Just pure pleasure. He was gentle in all the right ways and not so gentle at all the right times. My boyfriend had been in love with me for a while but I just “liked” him. But something inside me changed. It felt as if we were now connected by body and soul, cheesy as FUCK, I know. I was filled with so much love for him at that moment. We both felt it. In the middle of it all, I declared “I love you.”

We lasted a while. We were late for dinner. His friends knew what was up, it was written all over our faces. My feelings of love didn’t disappear once it was over. It was one of the best moments of my life. Although he’s no longer in my life, I will continue to cherish it.

First Sex Experience Series:

Whether you’ve had a lot of sex experiences or none at all, two things are certain: If you’ve had sex, you can never forget your first experience even though as time goes on it might become tiny fragments in your imagination. And if you haven’t had sex, you are most times likely to catch yourself picturing how the first time will be.

There are several facts and myths surrounding having sex for the first time, it varies per gender.

For Females:

Compulsory pain and bleeding.
Becoming clingy to their first sex partner.
Body changes.
Feeling of regret or remorse (especially depending on circumstances surrounding).

For Males:

Overt excitement.
Ego boost.
Increase in penis size.
Looking forward to more sex adventure

While these are based on collective generalizations, a lot of virgins are unsure about what to expect. Losing one’s virginity is a unique experience, despite prior knowledge about sex and daydreams, you cannot be certain it will match your expectations or fall short except you try.

You’re probably wondering why I’m all about sex today right? Well to wrap up the month of April starting from the 27th up until May 4th, 2020, we’ll be sharing stories about our first sex experience (#FirstSexExperienceSeries).

Why are we doing this? Asides from the fact that curiosity makes us drawn to the untold stories of people, sex ranks among the shyest topics. People avoid it especially their first experience. So I thought, why not give people a platform to talk about their first sex experience with the sole purpose of narrating it in a didactic way. There’s a lot to learn.

Sex means different things to a lot of people. To some it is the best kind of intimacy/ bonding with their significant other, to some it is a sacred act, to some it is only a duty and to some, for mere pleasure. I don’t know how true it is but I read somewhere that whatever sex means to a person goes a long way in defining who they really are. Also, what it means to an individual could change as they experience life.

Did You Miss Our First Series? Click Here

How was your first sex experience? Is it worth learning from no matter the circumstances surrounding it? Is it one you’ll love to share? If yes, the following are vital questions your story should provide answers to if they must be featured.

At what age did you lose your virginity?
Would you say it was the right time or due to pressure?
Did the experience meet your expectations?
How did you feel afterwards? (body changes, psychologically, socially)
Did it make your relationship better or worse? More intimate/clingy?
Were there any regrets?
Did you look forward to a second time?
What does sex mean to you?
Is sex is overrated?
What advice would you give to virgins?

It is important that you stay truthful in telling your story, you never know who is learning. All stories should be sent using the ‘Submit Story’ page. If you wish to remain anonymous, kindly indicate in your story. Thank you for your willingness in advance, I can’t wait!

First Sex Experience Story source- Dana Koussa on Quora.com

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I am Muttering

Success! Will you Forgive You?

By muttering minds April 13, 2020

4 min read

Everyone wishes they knew tomorrow, some claim they have the gift and a reasonable number, have their optimism fuelled with faith that their tomorrow is bright. The truth is, while we know where we wish to be, we do not know where we will be.

Ever felt so happy at some point that you’re finally getting it right and then you begin to savour the moment but while at it, the light goes off, the rug beneath your feet turns to thick mud, you can barely move your feet. Stuck! Shattered! Not again! Times like these are depressing, you wonder why the good days have a short lifespan and the bad days, the best laugh.

Deep inside we are all scared. Hardly can I go a day without getting pensive about my future especially with the way my success and failure stories keep castling the baton at their own will. Will I leave this world a failure? Or will I have the world reckon with notable flags of my achievements even after I am gone?

Will you forgive yourself if you do not succeed on earth? Before you try to answer the question, what does success mean to you? Have you coined a unique definition of the word for yourself or are you entangled in a merry go round of society’s opinion on what it is and should look like?

I realised that it is our idea of success that makes us not appreciate our achievements no matter how little. The idea of the ‘grass is greener on the other side’ and that ‘where we are is not where we are supposed to be’. Maybe we are right, well only God knows.

Cruising on the best islands in Hawaii, looking dapper on the finest clothes and having oodles of money to afford whatever you want can be your definition of success and that’s perfect. If success means to you happiness, career fulfilment, peace and quiet while raising a family, that’s valid too. My definition of success is a mixture of all these elements. Success to me must have some substantial amount of finance before the other elements come to play.

Whatever our definition of success is, we are working to achieve it. Sometimes the journey gets difficult, I hit rock bottom and I’m tempted to remain there. What’s the fuss about anyway? I’m gonna die someday. Why do I push to achieve a whole lot that won’t go down six feet with me? It is painful.

In as much as not fighting feels good, I cannot hold still, the next minute I get back up, struggling to keep my head above the water. At every point I lose hope, I reminisce on some peculiar accolades from friends, for all the times they said to me “nice job”, and giggled chin to chin because of how amazingly talented they see me, I find courage. While I pick me up, one of my demons whispers to my mind, “what if they said all those to make you happy? You are not as talented as you think”. Do I rebuke the demon or accept her words? Well, it all depends on what day it is.

The thoughts of failure are like vultures preying on a carcass. One perches first then the others begin to assemble one after the other until they fill the place tearing it apart. They’re ugly, aggressive, and have pretty rotten feeding habits. Just like the thoughts of failure, once it shows up, it replicates itself into many terrifying scenarios that feast on your mind.

We all want to be successful but the truth is, not all of us will be. Yes, the sky is big enough for everyone to fly but first, look within you. Can you fly? If yes, what is the size of your wings? Are your wings punctured or built up? One bitter truth is, you might get all these right and still not make it. Life is a mystery, if not for anything, I wish I knew tomorrow.

Will you forgive yourself if you do not succeed on earth?

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