About forgiveness…I know how to hold a grudge so when I have to forgive people it requires an extra effort. I read somewhere that you know you have forgiven a person when you think about them and what they did and not feel hurt anymore. The truth is I still feel hurt even after saying “I forgive you“.
So to combat the spirit of unforgiveness, I started giving myself “proofs”. I will give my offenders anything they asked for. Go the extra mile for them, do things I didn’t even do before they offended me.
The ‘proofs’ served as a response whenever the feeling of being hurt returned and the devil said I had not forgiven them. I always remind him of all that I did for them and tell him a person holding a grudge would not be that nice.
It was a shivering cold night on the eve of 2019 Valentine’s Day and I had buried myself underneath my 1990s thick blanket, not these Hi-Target blankets that are currently in the market, but yet, I was still freezing.
My fingers were twitching and I could even feel my knee on my face, as my back curved into shape C while I tried to cuddle myself.
To fight the cold a little bit more, I made hot tea, one big terrible mistake. The tea burnt my tongue and also bestowed upon me another huge problem. After heating myself up and finding the right spot on my bed to fight the cold, I felt my bladder trying to reach out to my urethra.
I ignored it at first but the call became more intense so I rushed to the toilet and relieved myself but that was just one of the many times that I had to use the Toilet that night.
When my bladder was finally empty, I began the search for the right spot again and after about 5 minutes, I discovered the right body posture. I immediately arranged myself into the position and closed my eyes to sleep but the night wasn’t done with me just yet.
My phone went off and immediately I saw the caller ID, I jumped off my bed. My heartbeat increased and this great enthusiasm filled my soul. It was my 2 weeks old crush from church that was calling.
I answered the call and her soothing voice sent shivers down my spine. My heart began to pound that I literally thought it was going to pop out of my ribs. The next day was Valentine’s Day and in my mind, I believed that Saint Valentine was about to bless me.
I had not said a word as I was still recovering from the beauty in her voice when she repeated herself slowly, “hello, John.” By now, I was on the floor, off my bed, rolling on the cold tiles in my room, fully naked and smiling like a big fool.
I responded but it took me about 10 seconds to say “hello”. I had and still have never stuttered the way I did that night.
The next words that came out of her mouth sent me to heaven and back. She asked: “John, what exactly would you like as a Valentine gift?”
I immediately started jumping all over my room, making scenarios and was full of excitement. I almost ran into my mom’s room to share the good news.
I told her that I’d like a Puma shoe and even told her my shoe size. She chuckled, thanked me and we ended the call.
For the rest of the night, I couldn’t sleep. My head was busy making scenarios. I stayed awake till 5 am and then slept until 9 am when my mom came to wake up because of a visitor I had in the living room.
Rushed there and saw it was her. I rushed into the toilet, brushed my teeth and wore my finest clothes. She asked that I escort her to the store to get the shoe, saying she wanted to get the right one.
I thought to myself “but Valentine gift is meant to be a surprise na.” I continued “I already know it’s Puma, so no harm.” Before going to the store, I took her to a flower shop and got her a sweet-scented rose with my last money. She “awwned” and thanked me.
We got to the Puma store and I picked the best colour for MYSELF. She looked underneath the shoe and returned it. “But this one is good, I really like the colour,” I said to her.
She looked at me and answered “Ehn ehn”… She picked the shoe back, went to the store attendant and requested for size 41. Immediately, I told her “but, I said I wear size 44 oh.” She looked at me with surprise written all over her face and said: “No oh, the shoe is not for you o, it’s for my boyfriend, I just needed you to help with the gift so it’d be perfect.”
I felt the world falling on my chest as I heard those words. For the next 3 weeks that followed, I suffered severely from both chest pain and malaria.
PS. I had a well-treated mosquito net.
Now that you are here, what will you do if you were in his shoes? Join the thread! share your most memorable valentine experience in the comment section.
Life is unpredictable. That is what makes it interesting. If all were certain, there would be less anxiety, but we would be bored.
We never know when the last time is going to be. It’s like a man eating cookies from a jar, and is unaware of how many pieces are inside. Every time he takes one delicious chocolate cookie, he has no assurance that there’ll be another when he reaches out again.
Very often, I see posts on social media elucidating the need for people to show love to others because…you never know. The realization is starker when a loved one or popular person dies unexpectedly. We had no idea that the last time we saw them would be the last time.
We often wonder what we could have done differently. Some, filled with regret will say things like “He never knew how much I loved him”, “I was bearing a grudge when she died”, “Wish I had hugged him a little closer”.
But the feeling does not last forever. As the days pass by, the feeling of solemnity cast upon us by the sad events wear off and we are back to our old ways. We continue to miss calls, take people for granted, keep malice, forget to reach out and leave the electrifying words we ought to say to our loved ones buried in our chest.
Like the man eating cookies, we do not savor every bite. Somehow, it feels like there would be another when we reach out. But…There will surely be a last time.
We must cease making solemnity a feeling that lasts just a few days after a sad event. No. We must live hard. Not recklessly. Not without caution. But with courage. So when the end comes, we will face it without fear and regret knowing that though we did not do everything, we did some things. And that is enough.
What would you do differently if you knew the last time was going to be the last time?
I belong to a little group of sisters and one of us was recently proposed to by her long-time boyfriend. It’s a thing of joy yeah? Of course, we were all happy for her, especially knowing that society reckons it an icing on the cake for every lady.
A few moments later …“Thanks, **** for a new beginning”, my beloved friend had written on her social media page. I automatically got bemused. Why do women feel thankful to a man that proposes to them?
I began to relate it to my own man. Apparently my man thinks he is doing me a favour by travelling down to Lagos before Connecting to Portharcourt where he stays. During one of our conversations, he said “I’m doing this because I love you. When a man loves a woman, he can go to any extent to prove his love”. Minutes later, I called and told him to change his flight plan and that I would want a man who would do things for us and not because he wants to prove anything…funny right?
Love is commitment. Commitment, on the other hand, is an INTENTIONAL thing. Nothing comes freely to a man, we are not natural doers but those who DO are those who make a conscious effort to growth and commitment.
I know in this part of our world, women are taught to adore men like their Lord and personal saviour. But remember the Bible has that when a man finds a wife, he finds a good thing. Amid the cliches and religious sayings, can we women just wake up!!! Can we see above the stereotypical sayings and take hold of our lives?
No woman should feel thankful because a man proposed to her because in the long run and in the corner of the man’s heart, there is something in it for him. No man would choose a liability to be in charge of his future!
In my own opinion, If anyone would be thankful, it should be the man. After all, the woman has more to give. I shouldn’t be thankful to wanna add light to your life even if I am, I would rather bury such feeling in my closet.
Beloved women, I know in this world of ours, we have to wait for a man to do justice to whatever, but can we at least protect our dignity and self-esteem? It’s all we’ve got. When all is gone and we are old and grey, that might be the only thing we can hold on to even up until our deathbeds. Can we at least die in peace???
This article was written by Taiwo Omotesho, owner of @tash_props on Instagram
“Do not speak ill about the dead”… So does it mean that I should not be true to myself when I talk about a person who is dead?
For crying out loud Jane Doe was a very mean person while she was alive. She wasn’t loved one bit, not even a person from her family held her dear to heart because of how troublesome she was and then boom! I am reading tributes written about her and I am shocked. Like is this Jane Doe or some other individual?
Truth is a man cannot be more than what he is, whether dead or alive. If a man was very wicked while he was alive, if a man was an alcoholic, if a man was promiscuous, if a man was dreaded…etc. a beautiful tribute intended to change the narrative or appease the dead because we want to walk the good path is useless. why say otherwise?
In my opinion, a dead man even more than the living deserves the sincerity of his loved ones and others who knew him. It’s crazy that you lie to someone’s face when they are alive, and then you also lie at their death.
Let’s endeavor to coat our tributes with the truth instead of making it a bed of lies. People should read and marvel at what kind of soul he/she must have been while alive. It is appalling to note that in a world where just a pinch of the population is nice, one hardly comes across a negative remark in a tribute. Does it mean that people are automatically sanctified at their death? If you were unhappy with me while I was alive, I beg you, do not disguise it with the finest of words when I die for it will only kill me a second time.
“Hi, Frank” Holy shit! Pardon my French but my heart did sink, that was Xavier Castillo, right? I felt so betrayed on Frank’s behalf, who could have set him up? I will place my bet on the chubby cab driver.
You know initially, he had resisted Frank, saying he had turned a new leaf trailing clients, then a few scenes further he is seen disclosing Laurel’s whereabouts to Frank. Hmmm! ideally would the fear of the Castillo’s have let him speak if it wasn’t a set up? Perhaps the first time Frank approached him, he reported back to Xavier hence the plot to lure frank in.
Now Frank’s in, what next? Would he be captured and killed? Hmmm, that’s a tough one, since I watched I have been worried sick about Frank. But guess what I take solace in, remember the preview of Annalise’s death, I saw Frank in the video fuming, except that was a cut and join scene then I’ll be mad. Peter Nowalk, ain’t no kidding this time yo!
Frank Delphino hates to hear “I told you so”, and like he told Oliver, it is embarrassing and so to put him off his mystery, he needs to find the answers first, before anyone lays hold of them.
The big question lies with Laurel, Do you think she’s been calling the shots or she is actually being framed?
Pronouncing her innocent at this point may be unwise especially reminiscing on what Laurel’s dad, Mr. Castillo said to Frank when he paid him a visit in prison concerning the safe deposit box. Paraphrasing, he described her as selfish, adding that she loves no one, that was why he wanted to save little Christopher from her wrath.
Also remember Dominic, before Frank sniffed life out of him? what he said about Laurel manipulating all the men who loved her. Phew! What to believe now? Perhaps we wait for episode 4 of How to Get Away With Murder season 6 before we conclude about Laurel.
Meanwhile, how in God’s name will Frank get the hell outta that place? They wouldn’t set him free just like that. Maybe he gets captured and goes missing for a while, leaving Oliver with no choice than to inform the other guys who might just call the police. But the sad news is, the police are not their friends.
So Gabriel gives his word to Micheala, promising to love her long term and they both make love. Hmmm how sweet! This was my thought the whole time I’m watching and then ‘Tring Tring Tring’, that was Gabriel’s phone after Micheala had gone to the bathroom to clean up.
It was his mother, Vivian Maddox. “Hey I know I missed your call this weekend”. Gabriel said as soon as he answers the phone. “Then you know you also have to call me twice this week”…Vivian responded.
He lies to her that he’s still studying at the University of Virginia unbeknownst to him that she was parked right outside his apartment and looking up to his bedroom.
Gabriel and his mom appeared to be 5 & 6, so what’s up with the lies to each other. Vivian is in town and she wouldn’t let her son know, likewise Gabriel who’s not studying but prefers to lie about it.
Like Gabriel has promised to love Michaela long term, so is Vivian who has arrived in the town long term. She is seen unpacking in a new apartment and places in a shelf a box labelled “Dr Sam Keating — Case 2882.”
Then, she receives a text from a withheld number: “Annalise is back.”
Hmmm! Is it about to be a bumpy bloody ride on Annalise? Well, I’m guessing so.
It is obvious Vivian intends to reopen Sam’s case, but why? Why reopen the case of a man who was never there for you and your son? Perhaps you loved him Vivian, but Sam was away too long from you to have your love for him boiling at his death.
It’s more of anger. You are angry Vivian. He left you for a fellow black woman, Annalise, and that hurts you so much. It hurts you so bad that you have been scheming your revenge even before his death and now it came for you on a platter, his death is now an avenue to fuel your long years of hatred. I know.
With the last conversation with Vivian and Gabriel, I could sense a feeling of betrayal from her. I think She sent him there purposely for revenge. She needed a third eye to keep tabs on Annalise and he was her best bet.
Gabriel being free-spirited barely remembers to check on her as he used to. He is carried away and wants to be friends with the ‘Keating’s Five’. Well, we’ll see where that lands him.
By the way who texted Vivian? I will put my money on Frank! Recall in the last scene of season 4, when Gabriel made his first appearance on the season? At the ongoing registration at the Law school? And we see Frank put a call across saying “Your son is here”.
Who did he call? I bet Vivian! Remember Frank is that guy who knew all of Sam’s escapades and did his dirty biddings as recompense for plotting the death of Annalise’s son.
But the question now is, would he take long before he informs Annalise about Vivian’s arrival like he did with Gabriel’s or would he work in Tandem with Vivian.
Over to you, what’s your take on this episode of How to Get Away with Murder, season 6, episode one? I’ll await your comments.
“You’re not a failure, you are not trash, you are not cold, you are not a bitch, you are not ugly, you are not disgusting…you deserve to be loved, you deserve to be free… I want out! I want out! Forgive yourself, Annalise! I forgive you, I forgive you!”Annalise knew punching the pillow was not going to make her feel better, not even for a sec, yet with so much rage brewing she kept punching the pillow, affirming those words. She is broken, the more she tries to feel better, the more she becomes worse. Torture and rage-filled her whole being.
This is a woman severely straining her emotions to make her problems go away, but No! They follow her everywhere she goes.
Unbeknownst to the viewers, Annalise had a relapse following Laurels disappearance and she couldn’t risk the District Attorneys finding out, hence a change of name at the rehab.
I knew Annalise couldn’t have stayed so long in rehab just as seen in previous seasons where she loathed any situation that made her vulnerable (like the sessions with Isaac Roa and the series of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meetings) and also could never be away for too long from her ‘non-blooded dysfunctional family’.
Although fully aware that affirming positive words while in Rehab did not make her feel better, Annalise would kill for Asher,Connor, Oliver, and Michaela to say them too. Why would Annalise do that? I bet she felt providing them restoration would provide her a fraction of peace at least. But the reverse was the case when Asher beckoned her to tell Mikela the truth about her birth parents.
So unfortunate, Michaela who was reluctant to do so initially had started to feel better after the whole mantra of whipping the pillow with a tool looking like a golf club. Now she’s shocked and immediately confronts Annalise and threatens to kill her if it’s actually true.
Suddenly there was blood splatter on my screen and the golf club like tool ascending with blood dripping from it. And the biggest shocker, a scene of Annalise’s burial ceremony…“Could Peter Nowalk be joking with me?”A rhetoric question I had to ask myself.
Wait! Who killed Annalise? Michaela? I know she had threatened but could she have done that. She might have to owe to the fact that she’s been on a futile search for her birth parents and the one person who owed her the truth hid it from her.
Fans have argued that Annalise cannot be dead so early in the season especially knowing that she’s the center of all the havoc and mysteries in the series. Also compared to the previous seasons where Peter Nowalk pitches the story from a futuristic angle and then later fuses the present with the future. Whatever be the case, Annalise died and this is not some imaginative death scene like she practiced in Rehab. Ooo, wait a sec! what if it was a plot? these guys can do anything to escape the FBI innit?
When she texted me saying she had just lost her dad, my reaction was although cliche but acceptable I bet.
“Wow! When did this happen… I am so sorry for your loss… How have you been holding up dear? Please accept my condolence “
But was this me? Was it how I wanted to react or how society taught me to? Society taught me this and also taught me not to ask the things I would have wanted to because I might come across as insensitive.
How do you react to the news of death? I bet you are just like me who reacts in ways you are expected to and then you keep asking questions at the back of your mind…questions you would have loved the bereaved to answer for you but it’s very unfortunate you cannot ask.
When someone tells me they lost a loved one, I cannot help but ponder the gravity of fuzziness and distress that must be going on in their heads.
Do they feel their presence even though they are dead? Are they terrified to stay alone knowing that their ghost might appear like in the movies?
Were there any signs of death apart from the sickness that was noticeable? Were there any last words? Should I ask them how they truly feel? Perhaps it wasn’t a loss for them but a relief? Should I ask them the real reason for their tears? Maybe they are mandated to cry after all!
I hate it whenever someone says during a funeral “Look at that one, she’s not even crying… She hasn’t cried the whole time”. For goodness sake! Is it now a cry competition? Do you know what’s in the heart?
I haven’t lost anyone so close before, and I hope I don’t come across as insensitive. These are the thoughts that go on in my head. Don’t get me wrong, I sincerely give my condolence, but trust me there’s more to every condolence than meets the eyes. So much more I wish I could ask.