I hate my sister. She ruined my life 2. Her Sister’s Response

Three days ago when I first published Bunmi’s story, I got a couple of mails from readers who wanted to hear the sister’s side of the tale. I thought it was a bad idea and would be very intrusive. Against my better judgement, I asked Bunmi if I could get in contact with her sister. I expected a resounding ‘Hell No’, but instead she gave me her email address (the fact that she still has her sister’s email after 5 years of supposed ‘hatred’ says something). So, I emailed the sister, told her about the blog and her sister’s feelings. Her immediate response was if the sister did not deem it fit to talk to her face to face and instead decided to write to a blog, she had nothing to say. I thanked her and dropped it with a huge sigh of relief. Then an hour later, she e-mailed me again asking if her sister did write all that or if I embellished the story. I told her, I reconstructed the paragraphs but there was no embellishment. At this point, she asked if I was on Yahoo Messenger. I didn’t know that still existed but I said yes.

Now we chatted for over an hour. She brought up a lot of new issues, but I am only going to publish her response to her sister’s accusations. This is a summary of ‘Dupe’s’ side to this story.

My sister and I were quite close growing up. We had a good relationship. I was always stealing her clothes. We fought. We played. normal normal. My sister put on a lot of weight at a time. I didn’t. I think that is when we began to have a little bit of serious friction beyond normal sister fighting because she started saying some mean things. But it was nothing serious. Then this guy came along. Let’s call him Desmond. Desmond was a very ok guy. Good job, good house. I was happy for my sister that she has found someone to marry. We used to hang out together, the two of them and me and my now fiance. I began to notice something off about him. He had the nastiest mouth ever. He was always rude to the three of us, including her and said nasty things to complete strangers. More than 3 occasions, Desmond had gotten into fights when we were there and Goodness knows how many when we were not there. He was borderline rude to my folks and my sister knew all this, but for some reason, she seemed ok with it. I was not. I had a very bad vibe and I knew if he could do this to strangers, imagine what he would do to her if they marry. I talked to her. She said he was good to her and that’s all that matters. Yes, I did discuss the matter with two female cousins who we were also very close with and were older than her because obviously she was not listening to me. I did not go about badmouthing him, but I guess the gist spread. Yes it was partially my fault, I will agree but my intentions were good.

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100 days of blogging

Today marks the 3rd month or 100th day since I started this blog( For those wondering, 3 months amounted to 100 days, not 90. It stunned me too). I look back to when I started. I had no idea what I wanted to write about( half the time, I still don’t); I had no idea the direction I wanted to take this blog but I am glad I stuck with it.

I started this blog at a dark period of my life. I had suffered a personal loss and I had begun to feel redundant. I wanted to keep busy. Then a friend suggested I blog. I didn’t take her seriously at first. I thought, who cares what I had to say? Gradually, I begun to research blogging sites and stumbled upon WordPress and I fell in love. (It is a bittersweet relationship due to its stringent rules on ads, which makes turning this blog into a profit-making venture in the nearest future a tad bit difficult)

I look back at my very first article What am I doing? and I realise how much things have changed. I am no longer an aspiring chef(sad face). I seem to have lost the passion for trying new dishes, mainly because my guinea…husband was not enjoying most of the experiments. I still google dishes and watch how they are made on YouTube but I don’t make them anymore(sad face). I am yet to write a single article on PS games or Hindi movies, which is beyond outrageous and something I intend to remedy in the nearest future.

I have noticed of late that I have been getting a lot of mails on relationship and family troubles. This bothers me to no end, because I don’t think..stratch that…. I know that I am not qualified to give anyone advice on anything. Don’t get me wrong. I love getting the letters, but sometimes I feel overwhelmed that I may give the wrong advice that may ruin someone’s life. Can’t someone send me a story about a puppy or quick sand or something fun? I like fun. Fun is good.

So there is it. 100 days of blogging. I am having a blast. I only hope my readers are having as much fun reading as I am. Drop a line. Do you enjoy the blog? Your comments and critiques are most welcome. Praise me! Praise me! Praise me!

I hate my sister. She ruined my life

Hello,
My name is Bunmi and I have not spoken to my sister in five years. It is a long story, but I will try to explain it as best as I can. I have an immediate younger sister, we will call her Dupe. I am two years older than her. Six years ago, I met a man who wanted to marry me. My sister hated him for no good reason and went around badmouthing him to all our family and friends. We have a very physical altercation and she was hospitalized. I eventually got married to him, even though my parents were against it. My sister didn’t help me with planning or anything. She just sat there at the reception like a complete stranger. When our first child was born, she didn’t come visit, only sent a gift. I am her older sister. I am not supposed to go and beg her. She has not stepped in my home since we got married. I never thought we would ever have this kind of issue considering how close we all were. Infact, her bad karma jinxed my life and jinxed my marriage, because now I am separated from my husband and he is the process of filing the divorce. I blame her because all the negativity and all the bad blood that my family had towards him is because of her. The evil girl called me for the first time in years after my separation. She said she called to console me but I know she called to gloat. I won’t lie. I said some very mean things to her. Very mean. Now last week, I got an invitation from her for her wedding. She sent a letter with it asking me to be her chief bridesmaid. Can you imagine? after all she has done, she wants to rub it in that she is now getting married and i am now a divorcee. See why I hate her? Everyone is telling me to chill, to go for the wedding, to be the bigger person. no one sees my side. No ones sees my pain. My parents threatened to write me off if I don’t go for the wedding. It’s so unfair that i am now the villain and she is the angel. She broke my marriage and now she has stolen my family’s affections. What do I do

Bunmi

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Rant- Leave Pregnant Women Alone!!!!!!

I came across this article on Yahoo that made me angry. It turns out that Cozy Belly is selling some new pregnancy shape wear for pregnant women. This is not some gear like Belly Band that helps pregnant woman who need the abdominal support to reduce back pain. No No….In Cozy Belly’s own words

“For pregnant women who want to gain a little extra control over the shape of their body, we offer pregnancy shapewear. If you want to cover up some of those extra pounds, for instance, we offer stomach shapers and slimming body suits.”

Are you Kidding me? Women are ALREADY subjected to a stereotype perfect body image and now the ONE time that they can let go and be free, the ONE time that they can eat whatever they like (within reason, baby safety first. no one should gain too much during pregnancy), you are trying to tell them to be self-conscious of their body. You are trying to tell them that the extra pounds that they gained which is a natural part of being pregnant is unsightly and should be hidden under spanxs, body magic, body shapers, whatever!!! What is wrong with this world? It is bad enough that women feel the need to look perfect in dresses they wear on a daily basis by using tightening undergarments (I will not lie. I do have two), but to ask pregnant women to do same is ridiculous. To even suggest that any pregnant woman would need to ‘cover up some of those extra pounds’ is the most annoying thing I have read this month (and I read a lot of annoying things)

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No One Stole Your Man…….Except He was Jazzed…

I came across this on a Facebook Friend’s status. Kayode Ogunnusi. I decided to have a little fun with it. Now the first part of the title may be true for the rest of the world, but in some parts of Africa and Nigeria in particular, we have what is known as ‘juju’. You can call it voodoo, witchcraft, or as my generation likes to call it – Jazz. Some people don’t believe in Jazz at all. Other believe and practice Jazz. I am sometimes torn because of my religion and western education, but I sort of believe in it too. A woman can literally steal your man’s heart and make him hate you through some well placed jazz. Yeah, I can feel your scepticism, but I have heard many gist about it. So there might be an element of truth. Who knows?

This is Kayode’s piece remixed by me. Words in Italics are mine

No One Stole Your Man………. Except he was Jazzed

babalawo_med

Accept that he got weak in the face of
another woman and made an irresponsible
decision to touch a body that wasn’t
his to touch. (Or she used some white powder
jazz and scattered his dada–head)

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My Brothers Beat Up My Husband.

So I have been having a strange week. I was completely uninspired to blog, yet I spend all day in front of my laptop. I have not left the house in over a week. I got this mail 3 days ago and I have been staring at it for a while, thinking of the direction to take. Today, I snapped out of it…finally. Here is Kehinde’s dilemma.

Hello Mrs Hera Pereira,

Good morning. Stumbled upon your blog. I like the relationship advice you give. I am a newly married lady and I am having a crisis. Recently, my husband and I had a fight. I said some things. He said some things. He walked out of the room because he was really angry and I know he is not really a confrontational kind of guy. I followed him yelling as he went to the guest room. He slammed the door on my face. It was not intentional but it did give me a black eye. I made the mistake of going to my parent’s house and my elder brothers saw it. I have three brothers and I am the only girl. I am sort of a miracle baby and they really dote on me. Two of them stormed over to my place, without hearing what happened and despite pleadings from my parents, the eldest brother and myself. They really roughed up my husband and caused a huge scene. The police were called in and my brothers were arrested. The following morning, My father had called my husband to apologize and asked that he give the permission for their bail. My husband was obviously still furious and refused. Two hours later, he had calmed down and called my father back. He apologised for being rude earlier and said he was on his way to secure their bail. However, he had deeply offended my dad. My dad is an elderly yoruba man and respect is a big deal to him. And he never forgets.

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Is This It…..No Really….is this IT?

I came across this today. This is a perfect reflection of my current state of mind. Enjoy

Culture Monk

Is This IT

 

by Kenneth Justice

~Have you ever woke up and wondered, ‘is this it?”

I was really sick for the past three days (note my absence on the blog) but despite being REALLY sick….I had three days to sit in bed and wonder….

Is This It?

In my NyQuil-induced comatose state I turned on daytime television and it was exactly as I had left it 10 years ago, although Bob Barker seemed to be quite a bit younger and had glasses….Plastic Surgeons sure seem to be doing wonders for people these days.

Is This It?

The daytime and evening news was drowning in coverage over the PowerBall lottery which the state of California recently joined….people all over the United States are standing in hour long lines for their chance to win 650 Million dollars……..

Is This It?

A mathematics Professor from California was interviewed and said, “If you purchased 100 tickets…

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Poetry- No One Sees Nigeria

So I am currently suffering from Writer’s block (or is it blogger’s block). I could not formulate a single coherent line all week. Then, a friend asked me to address the current crisis in my home country Nigeria. I declined for two reasons. There are probably 5,000 blogs on that issue right now and I don’t do politics. More importantly, I could not think of any positive or comedic spin I can do to the story. So I am going to do a poem of sorts(Indulge me. I really don’t have skills for poetry)

There is a lot of despair and anarchy in you right now
A lot of people have given up on you
A lot of people are trying to destroy you
But you will not die
You would keep taking the punches and rising

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Stop Breeding!!!!

Yesterday, I was having an argument with an old friend (we have the same argument once a week and three things have been made clear. We enjoy the argument; We are NEVER going to agree and We both think we are right). The argument stems from his logic that the white man is still holding down the black man and is the cause for the high rate of unemployment, crime and all that. I am of the view that black people should stop blaming everything on the white man and take responsibility for their own shit (Like I said, we are NEVER going to agree)

This issue got me thinking about people who fail to take responsibility of their own actions and push it on others. Last week, I came across this video.

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My Maamah

Today is Mother’s day…………again. Now I am not a big fan of Mother’s day for two reasons. There are too many and I can’t keep count and very few people care about Father’s day, which is quite unfair considering how hard fathers(note, I said father, not baby’s daddy. big difference) work to provide for their kids. However today’s Daily Post Challenge is dedicated to mothers and we are required to write a letter to our Mothers. So here goes. This is for my MaaMah as I call her.

My MaaMah

Anyone that sees you never fail to tell me. “Aisha, your mother is finer than you o’. Some say it as a matter of fact. Others say it in an attempt to goad me. I smile every time because It is true. Why wouldn’t it be? We did come from you after all, but you are more than just a pretty face.

My MaaMah knows four languages
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