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About Me

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 My story may shock you, but then again your situation may be worse. Delve in and find out....
The best moments are the ones when, that affect people positively and inspire them to laugh and live. 
             But is this, the entire story?
 The Human experience is Unique and every person has something to give, you just need to see it from my perspective and I craft words, actions and events from this very human angle.

Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

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Thursday, 4 October 2018

She Cried For Help


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 65

Tossed into an ocean of smoking dreams, it’s time to wake up and scream. Knowing how hot the ice is, let me not let go of the burn that shocks me. Yet I push upwards and head towards the sun, trying hard to swim free of the shackles of time. Surfacing like a floating plastic ball, repelling words and replacing it with action. It is time, once again to spread my wings and fly. How?     First I will audit all that I have and then search, search far and wide for opportunities. The world has too many things luring you to focus on all of it at once, but to do this is to focus on none. I wonder if I am lying to myself yet again and giving myself false hope. I am definitely getting tired of getting stuck here again, in this same position. But without a self audit, how do I know where I stand or where I should go and the biggest qualms of them all. Where I should be. These three stages of ‘here’, ‘go’ and ‘be’, I must encounter to accomplish a task, the question is where do I start? Here can be anywhere and compared to others seems pretty good, but that’s me in denial.

      The noise and distraction from the world around me is alarming. The distortion clouds my thinking process and I just wallow in regret of why I didn’t take off and escape this rat race when I was given the chance. I sit up and grunt as if trying to silence my doubt.

 Yet I can’t help but think out loud.
How come when it’s me, I don’t cry for help? How come I take the heart ache and just soak in it, until I’ve drowned enough and then have no choice but to rise again. How come I don’t bore people with my troubles, one line or two and then I ask myself how grumbling is helping my situation. I will tell you how, I watch people start to shift and frown and start to look at the exit. They want to leave or run away or simply just escape. So I grumble quite alright and then I freeze and stop, considering others. There are so much more things to talk about than situations I can’t change. For now, let me move on.
The night did not go as expected, I shut my eyes and ponder on all that has transpired. It was supposed to be the moment I let go and feel another person beside me, the night I get to cuddle and wake up with a smile on my satisfied face. No guilt nor shame, just fulfilment and everlasting joy in that one moment. Or so I thought.             Instead, I was in an angry and frustrated state of mind at the same time. Maybe I am craving it too much or I am just lonely. I fight and try to convince him that we should keep on kissing and switch off my phone. He stops me and hugs me and asks if he should tell the captain of the yacht to turn around. I shake my head, I don’t want to have to baby sit anyone tonight or smell that awful hospital smell. It’s not that hospitals smell bad, it’s more the memories of injections and feeling sick.
Abeg I lie, hospitals smell of concentrated floor bleach and medications it’s sickening.
 I’ve told all my friends that from now on, I take care of me. After all, the nurses and doctors are on it, they have pumped her stomach and she is in a deep sleep. I say and try not to frown too much and catch the reflection of the famous twin-vertical frown lines between my eyebrows. Do not for one moment, blame me.
I was not the only one placid about the situation, Ajoke too didn’t budge. How could she? Her twin boys were running a fever and only when they are fine, does she call me.
‘I hope Sandra is by her side', I spew out a little disgusted by her selfish act.
‘Nnoye is such an attention seeker, did she actually take the overdose?’
‘Ade, she did'
 I roll my eyes and hiss, I have every reason to be depressed and I am not. All my savings I have used up to pay my workers and I am left with promises of investments but no one has actually dropped any money. Yes I know I am been insensitive and selfish, but can’t I just focus on me?
I am not going anywhere, I repeat in my head clenching my fists and digging my nails into my palm.
This is the third suicide attempt I have been close to, the first was appalling. My ex in the university attempted or feigned suicide to keep me in the relationship and it worked but I resented him for it. And he did not like that I didn’t like him as much as I used to, so he made me miserable. I couldn’t wait to graduate and he just choked me until I resented relationships and anyone associated with him. My only saving grace was that I had genuine friends outside that toxic relationship. And of course, I graduated and escaped that hell hole. Or at least I thought I had escaped that horrible situation and relationship.
Until I met an old friend Khadijatu who introduced me to her secret lover Frank, those two set me up for a marriage I believed was real. Days to the actual marriage ceremony, I hear his mistress is in town and I go and confront the two of them. That day changed my life, I discovered she was his current wife and I was the mistress. The one, he used to get cheaper accommodation in high up high brow Abuja. Also he wanted a child, he couldn’t make one with his wife, so was planning to get me pregnant. The betrayal and saga that unfolded after has left me a little colder and wary of people and their intentions.
The silver lining in that toxic relationship was this journal, ADE’S JOURNAL. It isn’t personal therapist and friend, my conscience and reflection.
Since then I kind of just expect the worse in people and my aunt drinking petrol was the third. That made no sense to me and only her constant vomiting and medical diagnosis made me believe she actually tried to commit suicide. The doctor diagnosed depression and she has deteriorated to a shadow of herself, but is getting better slowly but surely.
I have seen all kinds of toxic but Nnoye's is the worse. Especially, since she was a part of that my former university life. I just can’t stand it all, you know.
You need to see what people are saying about me on social media, that I am to blame. Did I put pills in her mouth, how can people be so cold and insensitive. Celine and Ajoke have time, they are replying the accusations and defending me. I am thrilled that I have friends who protect me. And of course, who is posting all the negative gist about me? Sandra, the girl is so irritating. She will do anything to remain relevant online.
Nnoye knew how close our families are, I am talking about my family and the Ojora’s. Yet she chose to get pregnant, she knew he would not marry her yet tries make me look bad. I honestly don’t believe this is happening.
I coil up into a ball and Daniel Ojora cups his strong arms around my limbs and says… nothing. The silence is relaxing and I shut my eyes for a moment.
  The next thing I knew… Hours had passed and the intensity of the sunshine burned through the glass ceiling and wakes me up. I am late and I grab my phone to confirm how late I am, it’s hours in and my P.A. has sent me messages. I type and inform her today is a half day and that I won’t be coming in. She informs me that Nnoye called, I almost ask why and then it floods my mind. I did not dream about ‘ADE’S friend cries for help' or ‘She Cried For Help' trending.
My P.A. was genuinely worried but I was not.
‘She can talk', I say a little shocked by that.
‘Mrs. Turkur… Ajoke… Says she is fine now. I mean Nnoye’, my P.A. quickly adds.
‘Good’, I didn’t want to know more. I’m just glad she survived it.
 And speak of the devil, Nnoye's call comes in.
Don’t you just admire Nnoye for her audacity and persistence. I pick up the phone and listen to her chat as if nothing had transpired. I say nothing, I just place the phone close to my ear.
 ‘Ade hi, did you hear?’
'Yes’
‘I was angry you didn’t show up, but with Sandra there… I understand’
 I shake my head, ‘Orisirisi’.
‘I know you have been traumatized by suicides, your aunt near death and your ex. But I felt like it should be over'
 I exhaled hard and then add, ‘Is it over?’
‘It hurt bad and it is over'
‘I thought you were Catholic'
‘My depression overwhelmed me and… It has nothing to do with my religion’
  I did not mean to make it sound like she should have had more faith or so. I just wanted to understand why, even though with people who are suicidal the why is never as clear cut as it seems. I may be easy to talk to but I have to let her know.
‘Nnoye I am not a therapist and cannot help you, get professional help'
‘I have started in the hospital'
‘Good’
‘Are you coming…?’
‘I am not around'
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Weekend’
‘I am discharged.. going home tomorrow'
‘Good and sessions  with the therapist ?’
‘Everyday for a month'
  Neither of us say a word for a while and then I exhaled hard.
‘Don’t give up on life, it’s hard and there are many disappointments along the way. You fight and make it work'
 Nnoye starts to wail and says she agrees, she was sniffing and crying now.
‘Who is going to be the scandalous star of my show?’
 That made her chuckle and laugh hard and I laugh too.
‘If you won’t come and see me, then I will have to go to you'
‘Don’t you need to rest?’
 I was trying to get her to back down and leave me alone.
‘Can I invite Ajoke?’
‘Sure', I add and exhale hard.
‘I will call you tomorrow'
‘Okay, later dear'
  It gets exhausting talking to Nnoye because, it’s such a scandalous whirlwind to be around her that I miss it sometimes.
 Anyho’, let’s just be grateful for everything good coming our way. So this lunch sound like it’s fun.
For now, I will wait and see….
Daniel rocks me from behind, I didn’t know he was there all along.
‘You know I’m adding this to my lawsuit…’
‘Really, you want to knock her down while she’s trying to get up?’
‘How? Depression and suicides are genuine concerns. I don’t want her Drowning my children'
I shove his arms away from my body and face him with my own arms across my chest.
‘Have you ever left her alone with your children?’
 It was a genuine question and he shakes his head.
‘We have all known she was at her tipping point…’
‘Ade I can go ahead and make decisions without involving you, but you know that’s never going to happen'
‘So you tell me or ask, which is it?’
Daniel closes the gap between us and I say a little prayer and hold my breath.
‘Forgive me'
  His warm hands were tender to the touch and I shivered a little bit.
  I relax and nod my head and stare into his dark big brown eyes. He looks away a little shy and that makes me giggle.
‘Don’t mind me, should I get my lawyers involved?’
‘Gather the facts but please don’t push her to the edge, she knows you know'
 And you won’t believe what happened next, my stomach rumbled and I hold it. I was hungry and could not hide it anymore.
‘I will make us pancakes, or you want something else?’
 Daniel leads me to the kitchen and sits me down on one of the spinning chairs.
‘You know I don’t like to Cook’, I tell him as clearly and precisely as I could.
‘My dear, I was in your kitchen in the university. You owned only one micro pot and cooked maybe six times in all your five years studying mechanical engineering'
‘There is no way you know that', I say giving him a strange look.
 He bends in front of me and plants the kiss my eyes have been asking for all day on my eager lips.
‘I did see the pot but the number of times you cooked, well you told me'
 I smiled and watch him cook for me, a delicious meal.
  This is fun….








**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 3, Episode 65**
*"ADE'S JOURNAL", 65, COPYRIGHT 2018*

**BUSOLA ELEGBEDE, COPYRIGHT 2018**
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