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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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Tuesday, 30 January 2018

A Baby Reign


   My eyes flicked and stared at the fresh layer of dust on the porcelain figure of a horse and it's foal. It is a  curious situation to see it's broken tail and it's babies broken tail. Is this a case of the sins of the father been inflicted on the child? Or just coincidence, either way, they are together in their troubled state. Both heavily laden with dust and standing on a reflective surface. Not water as they both would sink into oblivion, but a shiny surface on top of solid ground. The amount of dust on the two creatures is worrisome, does that mean I inhaled all that throughout the night?   Lagos is dusty but worse than that are the tiny creatures feasting off the dust. They hop and jump and move so slow, it's scary. I remember the first time I spotted these creatures living in the dust haven. I thought I was seeing double. They dragged on as if they barely moved and when I blinked. It hopped to the wall in front of me. Lucky for me the wall was blue, so I could see it clearly. I squashed it into the wall with an old book and watched it reduced to a stain. Like one from a minute moth that I could barely see. I have not looked at dust the same and I truly don't like when someone I can't see bites me. The culprits are many, mosquitoes, fleas, sand flies and now dust mites. So I don't just clean off dust and displace those thousands of colonies of dust mites. No, i try to kill them with chemicals that slowly kill me too.
This life of kill or be killed should be labeled, kill and you too will be killed. I can't seem to tolerate the smell of insecticides and pest killers. I just want to stay still and not be bitten by anything.
Too late though, for she is com. Not like a thief in the night but like a belled hyena out for blood. Old or new, fresh kill or decaying kill, she can smell it and she is not tiptoeing towards me. She is screeching and laughing and giving the best performance of her life.
 Seriously, I should call this blog post 'intervention 101'. But there is no need, my Aunt comes in ringing a bell that smashes my swollen brain. It makes it smash into my skull and the eyelids above my eyes ache with every flick. My migraine is worse and my rage is building, you just don't know where you stand with your young friends. Honestly, I never imagined that Ajoke will be the one to bring my aunt we both called archaic back into my life.
    Every detail isn't in this write up but the KEY ELEMENTS ARE and I try to capture my emotional state as much as possible.
I am an advocate for honing your skills especially in your field of interest and mine is writing. I enjoy putting pen to paper and typing into my electronic devices, all that transpires in my life.
 First of all, I should be a marketer then a writer. I must Sell my and then to get people to Listen to me and read all my crazy life experience. I know You are smiling and Thinking, well 'we' have. I am grateful that you take your time out to read about my crazy chaotic life. But I am getting tired of going in a circle, of coming to the same old place I do not want to be.
Why should crazy relatives that need help, sill roam the streets and why do my other relatives who know for a fact that my Aunt has a mental health disorder, tolerate her drama. I am not in the mood and that awful smelling liquid she has in a one point t five litres bottle will not stain my house and taint my home with her spiritual smell.
 I grab the bottle from her, but not after she has sprinkled some on me. It hurt because she has mixed all sorts of chemicals in it and I refuse to flinch.
  This is like a scene from the Salem witch trials and I refuse to be tortured by someone I know.
'Aunty, hold ya self', I was pissed and irritated.
'See how the holy water burns her', she yelled out at a crowd that was not there.
My mum and younger brother walked in and I was not surprised. They were the gullible ones, the ones prone to following religious leaders blindly. My father, sister and last brother are more firm in our beliefs. We could not be swayed unless there was a good argument and we're never really into exorcisms. But my mother and brother, believe there are demons that posses, my team believes more in health disorders. Which as a child inflicted divides and friction, which this my stupid Aunt fueled by bringing in false prophets.

 The painful childhood memory is still fresh in my mind and makes me cautious whenever I hear about so called prophets and pastors.
 Why do I call them False, they are false because once my father indulged them and gave them money, we that did not believe we're branded witches but the Yoruba words they used was 'Emere'. Thankfully the prophet said we the accused were good witches but had to appease God by buying goats, chicken and spending a ton of cash. When my father ran out of cash, they cut us off and eventually, my mum got to see that they were indeed false prophets. But she liked the spirituality of it all and missed it.
   So for pockets of my life, she tried and failed to reintroduce these false prophets.

    But now, today at this very moment. After all the tragedy I experienced and my unique coping mechanism, she has drank up the lies of the false prophets.
This time, my Aunt has been upgraded and climbed up her so called church to become a prophet and she was actually attempting an exorcism with me.
 I chuckled at her theatrics and chuckled some more that I was bold enough to grab the bottle from her. I agree that I am a naughty lady and because of how creative my mind is I remove the cover of the so called holy water and sprinkled some on her. She flinched and jerked and I shhake my head.
'Behold, I have caught the witch amongst US', I announced to my own audience.
'Ade stop', my mum drags my raised hands from up in the air down.
'Okay, can you see what happened?', I was talking to my brother.
'I did, Auntie what is in the bottle?', he asked feeling g betrayed.
'Your sister is just rude', she became defensive.
'Mummy, Ola, Ajoke, how could you?'
 Ajoke tried to beg me but I shut her up.
'I lost my husband and babies last month, almost two months now. And I am trying, fighting to stay sane, fighting for every reason not to join them. So I talk to them, if it makes any of you uncomfortable, then stop coming around me. Stop coming to my house, I will tell the security to stop, to never let any of you into my house again'
 I was shivering and crying and my mum hugged and begged me.
'Ma de yen oooo', she pleads.
 Celine's call comes in and I shove all of them away and pick it up.
'Celine, thank God you are back in France. In fact I need to pay for a fashion course too, I need a break from all this madness'
 Celine did not know what happened until she saw my Aunt and put two and two together. It was a long day filled with apologies and everyone trying to make me see that they cared, that's why I was ambushed. I was not mad but my mum swore she would cut off all her siblings just to keep seeing me and my Aunt kept saying she should have come with a stronger prophet. All in all, I had to take back my uninvite. Or they were not going anywhere, it was fun to see it all play out and my Aunt said I may be mad at her but I had to stop talking to dead people. I just wanted her to leave my house with her horrible smelling potions. Not that they smelled bad, they just invoked bad memories. In fact they smelled good, but I will never tell her that.
Although I've been thinking, this is an online journal. What if my Aunt reads this?
Oh well, I never hide how I feel or what I see they do as just a business brainwashing entity. And she knows that I think they peddle fear and prey on gullible minds and people in desperate situations. But I also know that it's a coping mechanism for some people, just definitely not me.
 As they leave, I stare at my best friend. The poor lady just wanted to help me but she only made things worse.
'Ade I am so sorry'
'Ajoke, I know how parents are in Nigeria. They probably bullied you into bringing them here'
'Your Aunt said if you ended up in Yaba left that it was my fault. That I did not do more to help my friend'
'Ajoke, you have helped me in more ways than I can count. You and Bala helped me out of a difficult situation, helped me get a new place and check on me all the time. That has helped my sanity more than anything...'
 We hugged and cried.
'Na only Ajoke help you?', Celine asked from the sky call.
'Celine, you know you two are the best friends a lady could have'
 The day ends up great and I did sleep as if a whole new weight was lifted off me.

  I figured Nnoye would device a way to get me to see her and her baby. And the best way to do this was with a 'Baby Reign'.
Nnoye did not have a baby shower, so I remember joking and coining up a phrase for a party after the baby was born.
So, she sent me an invite. If it was in Daniel's house, I would have respectfully declined. But it was at my favorite restaurant, Pearl Garden and I did miss going there.
Bala offered to drive us there and I did not see any reason not to go. I did not want her coming around asking me why I was no longer friends with her. So I agree to attend her Baby Reign.
The venue was beautiful,the food was gorgeous and the clothes magical. We were all in white and it made it even more glamorous.
The baby cried and cried and cried, I was worried for the poor child. The party continued and Daniel walked up to me.
'Hi..', before he could say more Nnoye whisked him away.
The party was grand but the baby crying got me worried.
'He is colic, we have to accept it', Daniel adds watching me watch the baby.
'I miss you'
'Between your two baby Mama's and two babies? I'm shocked.
Ajoke opened her eyes wide and looked away and Bala opened his mouth to say something but didn't.
'Its not the life I planned...'
'But it's the life you have, deal with it'
I point at my glass and the waiter tops my Bailey's Irish cream drink.
'Daniel', Nnoye calls for him.
'Ade, I will be away for awhile...'
'With the babies?'
'If the mothers let me, but they can't come. If you like, you all can visit our Fiji home'
 He hands me tickets.
'I am going to Argentina briefly then Alaska for some business opportunities. I know you need a break from me and I understand it. Just stay strong'
 Nnoye comes with the crying baby and hands him to his father.
As I watch them walk away, I raise my glass and tap Ajoke.
'Clear up your calendar ladies and gentlemen, Fiji minus stress is calling US'.
 Ajoke almost choked with laughter as Bala shakes his head.
 This is going to be fun...

**"ADE'S JOURNAL" Season 2 Episode 101**
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Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

Follow @Busola Elegbede