What If I had Married Dino Melaye?

2 days ago, we woke up to news that a so called distinguished senator in the Nigerian senate had threatened Remi Tinubu, a female senator and wife of the infamous Yoruba land warrior,the Asiwaju of Asiwajus, the great Lion of Bourdillon, the undisputed Jagaban of the West, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, with rape and physical harm.

Ori bobo Melaye yii ti yi o 

According to Sahara Reporters, his exact words were “Look this is not Bourdillon (the Lagos residence of Mrs. Tinubu’s politician husband, APC National Leader Ahmed Bola Tinubu). I will beat you up...impregnate you and nothing will happen.”

Wow! Wow! Wow!

Like the strong feminist or even human being that I am, I took to my social media handles to condemn the statement, advising her husband and other APC senators not to take it likely.

The statement and counter statements in the press made me start to think about Dino Melaye’s ex, the current wife that dared to marry a man accused of violence in marriage but is now facing same violence, and the many other women that probably dodged the marriage bullet that is Dino Melaye.

Hubby had repeatedly asked me this question over and over again, ‘why did you choose to marry me?”

And for every time he had asked that question, I’ve never been able to give him the exact answer he might probably have been hoping to hear. This is not because I don’t know but simply because the reasons are so many that I’ve never been able to put into exact words why I chose to marry someone that is like the total contrast to me.

However, despite not having words to explain why it was him and not Denzel Washington, Idris Elba, RMD or God forbid, the Dino Melayes’ that were in the pipeline back then, I always get reminded why I chose him every time we had a fight.

Hubby has a trait that is an overall blessing for me as his spouse and well, other piss takers- he doesn’t know how to keep malice nor stay angry for long.

I don’t know how he does it but keeping grudges is for him, very impossible. I have had cases where he comes home very upset because a friend or group of persons had pissed him off and being my passionate self, I would get angry along with him to show my support and solidarity.

Hubby: *walks into the house vividly upset and fuming* Can you freaking imagine? They said *********. Who f****ing does that?
Me: He/She is crazy. Gbogbo won ti ya were. Who do they think they are? Shebi I told you that ******* (I’m a loyalist to the core. When you hurt mine, I’m hurt as well)

Me: *visits Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Yahoo, Hotmail, Hi5, BB,MySpace and blocks the person(s) from all my pages for getting my boo pissed off*
Hubby: *coming out of the room same day and laughing as he ends a call* I’m going out this evening dear
Me: Oh ok. Where?
Hubby: Myself and ***** and ***** want to hang out for a drink. Then from there get to ****’s house.
Me: *pauses the TV and gently puts baby on the floor in confusion* I don’t understand. Ko ye mi. Are those not the people we are fighting with?
Hubby: Oh yeah, we've sorted it out. We've ended it. So they are taking me out for a drink.
Me: * lost for words and things to say and looks at the phone where I just blocked these people & back at the annoyingly gregarious and forgiving-at-heart Boo*
Me: *What kind of husband is this nitori olorun? Someone cannot even initiate war on his behalf*

Someone cannot even slap soldier on his behalf.

Me?

Hian! I can stay angry for decades. All I need to do is come across anything that will remind me of what got me angry in the first place to renew the anger for another calendar year.

And malice? Puleeeeze, I went to a boarding school. Keeping malice was part of a boarding school’s curriculum.

Which explains the contrast in character. While Hubby is swift to forgive, in fact he can’t stay angry for more than a few hours, I on the other hand, can take centuries to even think of revisiting what got me angry in the first place not to talk of forgiving.

Forgiving may happen after my future last child last born’s graduation, but forgetting is not of this world.

In the early stage of our relationship, Hubby and I laid down some rules and guidelines that we both had to follow during a fight. We are both strong-willed and hot-tempered so we envisaged that there will be lots of argument. And since we each still wanted to be the partner that will raise the other’s blood pressure for a long time, we decided to introduce some civility into our forecasted quarrels.

1) No name calling.
2) No swearing. (This has actually now been overtaken by events as we now both can’t get though a sentence without at least saying "wtf". Iz kuku the economy)
3) No abuse.
4) No sarcasm. (This was for me specifically. The angrier i am, the greater my sarcasm)
5) No saying “it’s over, I’m done” because of a fight.
6) No reporting to another party.
7) No recalling of past deeds in new fights. Treat every fight as a fresh one.

8) It's not what you say but how you say it so language usage and agbekale oro is key.
9) No dropping of calls on the other party in anger.
10) No walking out on the other person.
11) No eating out of the house or refusing to eat because one is angry(it's only in my home that Hubby will be upset but i will still get to cook 3 times daily)
12) No sleeping out of the room or from the house because of a fight.
13) Only one person can be angry during a fight. The other has to remain calm.

Suffice to say that these rules helped put civility in our fights. In fact, with these rules, only very few people could tell when we were fighting as it was usually a very hilarious few days after we’ve had one fight or the other.

Us before a fight. Insert any yori yori or Adekule Gold's song here 

US BEFORE A FIGHT-
Me: *slight back rub* Morning Baby
Hubby: Morning dear
Me: Have a nice day darling. Love you
Hubby: Love you too
Me: Shey you will eat potatoes and sauce this evening?
Hubby: Bless you dear. Yes I will.
Me: Hey, welcome hon!
Hubby: Thanks my love
Me: Nanite baby *kisses*
Hubby: Nite hon

#yimu

US DURING A FIGHT
Me: *calls his sunaah name in a loud voice while standing close to the door* Come and move your car. I’m going
Hubby: *climbs out of bed silently with a stony face*
Me: *drives out of the compound without a sound*
Me after work: Good evening
Hubby: *slightly stony face* Evening. I bought bread and milk and eggs for the house
Me: *yimu accompanied by a smirk*. Thanks
Me: *enters the kitchen and prepares whatever I gaddem want to prepare. Iyalaya anybody that will not eat it*
Hubby: Thank you
Me: *Carries baby and enters the room silently. It's a global knowledge that when a woman fights with her spouse, the baby/kids automatically become the best friend(s) and most trusted confidant(s) during the duration of fight. *
Hubby: *climbs into bed and turns to the other side after putting a throw pillow in between*
Me: *already snoring while thinking "you flatter yourself"*

Awwwn my soulmate. Insert any Celine Dion's track here

DAYS AFTER THE FIGHT
Hubby: Morning Dear
Me: Morning you
Hubby: You didn’t sleep well. What happened?
Me: *playing to the gallery as I always do this whenever we fight*. I have this pain in my back and neck and head *desperately searching for all the sympathy I could lay my hands on*
Hubby: Pele, shey you will go to the hospital?
Me: No need. I will manage. Thanks dear
Hubby: Or do you want to call in sick and I should stay with you?
Me: No need. Thanks dear. Shey you will eat stir fried noodles with diced eggs tonight?
Hubby: *has a goofy smile on face that foodies generally have when asked anything related to food* Thanks love. I’ll appreciate.

And that was how Fight 25 in year 2016 was completed and closed.

Oya movie has ended

Because of the rules we had set, the only way we could express our anger was usually through stony silences, subtle attitudes and reduced selflessness (mostly from me. Hubby can still comfortably be polite and kind to his enemy even during/after a major fight).
Which was why when Hubby and I had a fight some days back, the usual pattern played out. But ironically, not cooking because of a fight was never something I ever did. So it was to my surprise when on this evening after work after attending to my daughter, I wanted to go into the kitchen to start preparing dinner and who would I find occupying my small kitchen space but Hubby.

Struggling trying to boil some plantain.

The last image I saw before I hurriedly stepped out of the kitchen to have a well-deserved laugh was of him adding a spoon of salt to the plantain he had just soaked added to a pot half filled with water. He even looked very professional as he tried to gauge if a spoon of salt was okay for the number of plantains he was boiling or if he needed to add more.

Wait, did he just taste the water to see if the salt was enough?

Ninu ogede sise? That literarily killed me.

Who is this guy? Lmaoo 

Nah, if I need this guy to survive long enough to carry his great grandchildren, he must never boil plantain in this house again.

The fights will definitely continue. But I will continue to do the cooking.