Desperately seeking non-African friends who do not require items to be transported whenever one travels outside the continent

Hola peeps.

Gonna start in an unusual way by mentioning the passing of former Kenyan President Mwak Kibaki. I recall seeing his posters everywhere during my first visit to Kenya in December 2007: Kibaki Tena! Following his death, I reached out to Kenyan friends to commiserate with them and to a ‘t’ everyone remarked on how great the man was. I mean even with media accounts of his death listing his failures at tackling corruption and post-electoral violence, all the people I reached out to had warm words for him. I am talking rich, poor, male, females with big hips, females with bigger hips, unemployed, employed, drunks, aquabibs less drunk, etc., their common refrain was he was probably the best president they ever had. A friend even shed tears. The reactions of Kenyans brought home how one’s actions live after them, and how sad that I couldn’t think of any leader in my lifetime capable of eliciting such grief from a broad swath of Nigerians; Obasanjo maybe, but he is more respected outside the country than within. I know, I know, Kenyans have only had 4 presidents since independence so being best of the bunch mightn’t be saying much, but contrast that with how Nigerians danced in the streets when Abacha died. 

Okay, back to regularly scheduled programming….wait, before we go there, cool to tell a joke that I’ve been ruminating on for yonks? I mean, since we ‘ve already deviated from the norm I might as well, right? Here goes: My neighbour’s so fat his favourite football team is KFC. Geddit? Like, K-FC? Some of you won’t get that joke until next year.

So how y’all been? It’s been longer than I promised y’all, huh? It’s 7pm on Wednesday evening and even though I prefer to blog on weekends, when I am freer, I decided not to waste any more time and get something out before another month goes by. I will see how much I can remember from past few months, and how much of those I deem interesting enough to put down before I have to go read daily regimen of two chapters of Shantaram. Boy, that’s a massive book. A friend got it for me for Xmas and doing my utmost to finish it before the month runs out. So far so meh.

Wednesday evenings are generally unoccupied as calisthenics classes are on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday evenings. Yesterday marked the 119^th class since I started on February 7^th last year. Obviously, haven’t strictly stuck to 3ice weekly classes due to travel and such, but I have made major progress since last year. I aim to execute the Human Flag before the end of the year and that’s why I have dedicated Saturdays towards solely working on it.

Two weeks ago, I sustained a cut on forehead while trying to execute a pelican curl for the first time. The bench press bar I was using slipped off the rack and I went headfirst onto the edge of a reclined benches used for abs workouts. Blood poured out and thankfully the other guy in the gym oversees maintenance at the apartment complex, so knew where to get a First Aid box to halt the bleeding. Head throbbed like crazy but since it was last workout planned for the night, I completed the remaining 2 sets just to make the calisthenics instructor feel bad. I needn’t have bothered ‘cos he didn’t give a hoot. Ha. 

As the head injury occurred at 9pm, I waited until the next morning to get it seen at a hospital. Doctor informed me cut wouldn’t need suturing, so it was cleaned, and an anti-tetanus injection was administered. Two days later I travelled to Addis Ababa for the Easter break – that is, regular Easter not Orthodox Christian easter, which was last weekend – and was forced to wear a hat throughout 3-night stay to avoid peeps staring at the huge plaster on my head all the time. Anyhoo, I now have a scar smack dab in the middle of forehead, but since I live in South Sudan you won’t notice it if you don’t look too closely as the sun here is on another level. Without it I woulda looked like Vision from the Avengers movies.

Since last blog entry….hold on lemme see what I wrote about…..oh my bleeding youknowwhat. Okay, since then I have resumed running s-l-o-w-l-y and signed up for the Paris marathon next April so I don’t slack off; travelled to places I’d never spent time in before (Lesotho and Ethiopia), so 64-page passport I obtained in December 2020 now has less than 40 pages left; attended my daughter’s 10^th birthday party in the UK with my dad and brother; still haven’t spoken to EJ; underwent Rapid Transformation Therapy (RTT) sessions, though they have not helped my commitment issues; moved to a temporary apartment while my apartment is being refurbished, and since I moved here over 2 months ago poop ALWAYS sticks toilet bowl. I haven’t changed my diet, so it must be the bog, right? Was it specifically coated with a patina of poo-philic material? I mean, it’s gotta be it, right? Right? Insects also appear from everywhere in this apartment like a bad horror film. Can’t wait to return to regular apartment when it’s finished this weekend.

I said I was gonna tell y’all about EJ in last blog entry, so here goes. Wait, first I gotta tell you about the other injuries I have sustained since my return to Juba. As I couldn’t kick or box for months due to time spent in Nigeria recuperating from knee surgery, I was so keen to resume training this year I went for first lesson sans underwear. Do you how difficult it is to do a roundhouse kick in teeny-weeny loose kickboxing shorts without securing the jewels? It was only after I stripped to shorts at the kickboxing gym I realized my error, so had to play it off. Thus, I went all out on the hardest punching bag without wearing gloves so folk would ignore the fact I wasn’t using feet, and ended up spraining right shoulder. This occurred at end of February and though it feels better I failed to execute a one-arm pullup yesterday. Left side of neck also hurt for 2-3 weeks from failed efforts to hold handstands. Right knee hurts like crazy at start of each run but I religiously ice it after I am done. What else, what else? Y’all can tell I am doing my utmost to avoid talking about EJ, huh? Okay, first update on my daughter and then EJ. I promise.

During our FaceTime call last Sunday she requested for a personalized denim jacket. I had to ask if she was really my daughter and not an imposter ‘cos circa 4 years ago I got an artist to jazz up a blue denim jacket with photos we had taken together. Cost me an arm and a leg and thought she’d fancy it, but she never liked it and doubt she ever put it on. It hurt at the time I won’t lie, and promised myself I’d never go that far out on a present for her ever again. Though I did forget and got her a personalized hoodie last year. So now she wants a similar jacket?! What gives? I told her I would think about it, just to play tough you know, but as soon as I got off the call I asked my sister Yewande to source for a yellow jacket – my daughter’s fave colour is yellow – to bring along when she’s visiting East Africa in June, and then contacted David to get me an artist in Uganda to transform the jacket. This time, I will let daughter choose the designs she wants on it, so I don’t get disappointed again if I put my face on it and she decides not to wear it. Thank God I am all grown up now and no longer as bothered with what she thinks. Who am I kidding?

Speaking of God, it’s only through His help my daughter got to see her paternal grandfather at her 10^th birthday party in February. How else does one explain the rapid change of heart from ex? Haven’t written much about my acrimonious divorce and the fallout thereof, not ‘cos I am embarrassed, but I try as much as possible to keep things light for y’all. Maybe one day I’ll work up the nerve to give a serious take on what really occurred but all y’all need to know for now is I probably hadn’t felt ex’s support in terms of jointly doing what’s best for my daughter until November 2021, even though we separated in September 2013. I know she will greatly differ on this, but from my point of view it was always one step forward and ten steps back. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why she was bitter since she’s the one who ultimately walked out on the marriage. 

When I was served with divorce papers in 2015, I gleefully signed ‘cos I was long done with the relationship by the time of our separation. Plus, I had heard she was seeing someone at the time so was hopeful this would allow her focus on someone else and no longer deny me access to our child. Boy, was I wrong! Ooops, this is getting too heavy. Sorry peeps. To summarize, I got a court judgment in September 2016 that allowed supervised access to my daughter. Yeah, it was supervised but at least it was predictable and like I mentioned earlier, there have been numerous setbacks since then, that I only noticed a marked change towards cooperation in November last year. Why the sudden change? I dunno but I am eternally grateful. I know it ain’t easy raising our daughter as a single mom and the fact that our daughter’s a well-rounded kid, kind to all, getting top marks in school, playful, etc., is principally down to the ex-wife, ‘cos you hear of countless stories where one parent takes it out on the kids after a divorce. That’s not the case here at all. Okay, back to the present….

My side of the family last saw my daughter in the flesh on September 7^th, 2013, so you could imagine my surprise when I asked the ex if Chief and my brother Jide, who were both in the UK in February, could attend our daughter’s 10^th birthday party and she said yes. Talk about coming outta left field, huh? When I told Chief he did a dramatic fall on the couch and told broadcast the news to the family, postman and all he would come across. Before we left for the party, I cautioned against reacting to any hostility that might be directed his way since he hadn’t engaged with ex’s family in over 7 years. Not that I was expecting drama, but you never know. Besides, not sure there was a need to have the talk as he’s not my mom, who never met a slight she deigned low enough not to respond to.

As you must know by now with my family, Chief tells siblings stuff about me, and they eventually spill the beans to me. My sister Kemi said, Chief, when excitedly announcing he’d be seeing his granddaughter for the first time in 8.5 years, told her, “Tunde’s finally granted us amnesty to see our daughter”, like I was the stumbling block all along. I respect my parents a lot and due to the discordant dissolution of my marriage they were subjected to vitriol I wouldn’t wish on an enemy, so I swore to myself I’d bear the brunt alone and not subject them to such again. Hence, why I never raised the issue of family seeing daughter until this year. 

While we are on about family discussions behind my back, I only discovered from Jide few months ago that while I was at Bradford Uni my dating Asian women was a frequent prayer topic, back when family used to gather for weekly prayer meetings. I thought he was joking, but it was for real y’all. These guys wasted God’s precious time by praying against my marrying an Asian girl, even though I was still in uni?! If only reality shows had proliferated in the late 90s, my family coulda been the black Osbournes.
When we got back home after the birthday party, my cuz Lolu came around with his wife and Chief wouldn’t stop talking about seeing his granddaughter. He also reminded them of my 10^th birthday party when I helped push a broken-down car to go pick up Feyi Fasan, my childhood crush, for the party. I don’t even remember that, man. Eerily, my sis Funke mentioned her some months back. They had bumped into each other last year in the UK and she reminded her of the car incident. Guess I should be happy family finally decided to discuss stuff in front of my face.

Daughter’s birthday party went off without incident as both sets of families were cordial. Chief said he thanked my former in-laws for looking after my daughter and they in turn updated him on her well-being. My nephew Zane – now in university – tagged along as well, and all the responses to the photos taken were about how tall he’s gotten and how good Chief looks, even at 83. I must confess the dude looks incredibly young while his wives seem to age daily, which I attribute to stress associated with their catering to his every whim. As the only son of his mom, he was pampered by her and his sisters, then he got married and became pampered even more. Funniest scene I experienced was a few years ago when Mama Seyi was travelling from London to the US for a week and had to teach him how to boil eggs and use the microwave when she’d be away. Some folk came to earth to enjoy and Chief’s, ahem, chief among them.

On way home from the party, Chief, Jide and I stopped at a Chinese restaurant for a meal and Chief half-jokingly broached my getting together with the ex. Not-jokingly responded that I would rather run across the Autobahn blindfolded. I know I like to keep things to myself, but you’d think family would know me well enough by now to understand things that are non-starters. I say this because my uncle Felix also raised the subject of possible reconciliation back in December. Jokers.

I am sure there were some great times with the ex, but there’s been so much toxicity between us I cannot genuinely remember any of them. That’s why it’s a shame I torpedoed relationship with EJ. Not that I did it on purpose, but I just couldn’t get over my fear of commitment. That’s why I dived headlong into the RTT thang, hoping I would at least come out with a modicum of a hint on how to get rid of this monkey on my back. So far, the RTT sessions have helped me become more assertive and not shortchange myself, but the commitment issues remain.

EJ and I had known each other since 2006 and first tried to get together, I wanna say, in December 2017. Thing I love about her is she’s always been forthright, and back then told me she’d only date if it would lead towards marriage and kids. Couldn’t commit to that then so we went our separate ways, until I bumped into her two years later and told her marriage is now on the table and I was sorta, kinda amenable to a kid. Recall how in 2010 I wrote about bumping into ex-girlfriends after I was engaged to be married, almost as if I was being tested to confirm I was really set on marriage? Fast forward to October 15^th last year when a shindig was held at my new 2-bedroom apartment in Lagos to mark my 45^th birthday. The event was like my relationship coming out party with EJ. Of course, close friends and siblings had met her before, and though mom had seen her a few times I never outrightly mentioned our relationship status but knowing my family it was probably discussed. The party though had in attendance folk I had known forever, some even as early as secondary school, including 5-6 women I had had some sorta past relationship with. I was proud to let everyone know who she was, and afterwards thought the party was analogous to what I mentioned experiencing back in 2010. I had confronted my exes and felt ready to wholly commit to EJ. Barely a month after the party we were over ‘cos I couldn’t get over my fear of commitment.

Don’t get me wrong, we talked about marriage over the course of our almost 2-year relationship and I told her I could picture spending rest of my life with her, only I could not say when exactly. Naturally, her response was, “if you believe I am as amazing as you say, one would think you’d wanna start your life with me as soon as possible, no?” Makes sense, right? EJ’s all I ever wanted and more: kind, stunning, level-headed, gives the best gifts, loves God, and most importantly, likes her own space. Yet, the commitment obstacle remaineds. When I decided on a relationship with her, I honestly assumed as we progressed my feelings for her would overcome my commitment issues and I felt I was getting there too. Close friends who observed us said it was like we both started out with our barriers up, and could see mine shifting over time, especially during the 3 months I spent in Lagos recuperating my knee. Obviously, I didn’t change fast enough.

Sometime last year I suggested we see a counsellor to help figure out how to get over commitment issues, and she arranged an appointment with one in November. After counsellor asked to see me alone and I opened up to her, she said something along the lines of, “I can tell you deeply care for EJ, but I can tell you are not ready to get married, and there’s nothing wrong with that…..the Holy Spirit has asked me to let you know you are more than a broken marriage…..you have to decide now what to do with EJ, you cannot keep her hanging on….” I had tears in my eyes after that session and I prayed to God that night more than I could ever recall praying. The whole “you are more than a broken marriage” line had me flummoxed ‘cos always felt I handled the end of my marriage quite well, apart from the not-being-able-to-see-daughter part.

I chose to fast the next week so God could give me a clear sign on what next to do. I received diddly and had to have “the talk” with EJ. To be honest, she raised it first as we weren’t talking much due to a fallout we had a week or so prior to the counselling session. I’ll never forget her parting words: “we had tried to get together several times since 2006 and we finally did it, so we can’t say we didn’t give it the good ol’ college try”. I made a crap joke ‘cos that’s what I always do to hide the pain, and listened to Adele’s All I Ask on loop for weeks on end from portable USB disk and on YouTube. For the latter, I listened to every version I could find: album playlists, live performances, James Corden’s Carpool Karaoke, even one by Bruno Mars. Didn’t help none. Then my akratic tendencies kicked in and I jumped into my philandering phase by smiling at everyone that showed the slightest interest in me, and ended the year thinking up possible EJ alternatives I could try dating and maybe end up settling down with. There’s the lady in Nairobi who’s never been married and doesn’t wanna have kids; the long-time crush in ATL with a kid; the divorced college friend in Houston; etc. Each life-ever-after scenario barely lasted a week before I realized it would never work.

Prior to relationship with EJ, I always made it clear upfront to anyone I was willing to get involved with that I was not keen on marriage or kids. Most folk agree at first and then feelings get in the way and….let’s just say I have met extremely lovely women who deserved better than me. One of my exes, who had met EJ and who I gave the line of, “I know I wanna marry EJ but not sure when”, when she asked about proposing to EJ, compared me to Dane Cook’s character in the unfunny Good Luck Chuck, whereby any girl who breaks up with me gets married within a year. She cited herself and one or two others as examples. Yikes. She warned me to put on big boy pants and propose to EJ before she gets tired of my will he-won’t he routine and leaves me. That conversation was few weeks before the birthday party. Maybe I’d go ask her for lotto numbers.

Tot ziens and God bless.