London Wives: Why we ordered our husbands out
By Taju Tijani
“Teejay, anyways, two of the receptionists rushed towards the MD’s door. They eavesdropped to hear what was going on. They could hear that most of the swear words were coming from me. I did not care. At that moment, they realised that I was DK’S wife. In between my bitter swear words, I was sobbing and throwing objects at DK. I was madly hysterical and determined to cause maximum damage both on him and his big office.”
“DK was asking me to calm down. Calm down? Calm down after he had ruined my marriage and life. Calm down after all the betrayal. He could not remember back in the days when I supported him with my finances. Now he wanted me to calm down. I did not give him any chance to say a word. He is very manipulative and crafty. These are the traits I just discovered in him.”
Modupe “MM” Magregor returned to our table to bid her exit from the party to Samba. “Haba, MM, why are you going? The night is still young now,” Samba queried. “Well, ngbati oje kin nso temi fun Teejay nko? Moreso, I’m getting bored jare,” MM answered.
The MC asked all the dancers to go back to their seats. Oluwabori “Bori” Owolabi, Abimbola “AA” Adelaja, Bukola “BB” Bamidele, Eniola “EE” Emmanuel, Seun “SS” Sokoya, Kemi “KK” Kanimodo, Jaiye “JJ” Joseph, Temi “TA” Ajakaiye, Sola “SO” Oludoyi and Dotun “DS” Sekoni came back to join Samba, TT, MM and I where we sat. They were visibly tired after honouring the celebrant with their support and dance.
I paused my chat with Samba and allowed MM to speak a bit about why she sent her husband packing. “Teejay, I think my husband’s case had to do with generational curse – ogun idile,” MM opened. “Bawo, ni London, kilo mean,” I teased.
“It is o. Biodun Magregor my husband was very demonic. He wanted to get rich quick and returned to Nigeria. He hates the UK weather and complains bitter during the winter season. All his wages as a senior customer services officer with the London Underground was wasted in casinos, lottery and betting shops. His desire is to win a big sum that will shorten his stay abroad. He prefers life in Nigeria than here. I prayed and prayed for this man. Gambling made him to neglect his responsibilities.”
“Bi mo she nso, three years ago, Biodun travelled to Nigeria. He stayed for full six weeks. By the time he was coming back…guess what? He came back with a very black object. Also, he came back with a round calabash decked with cowrie shells. He explained to me that the black object was Esu (Devil) and the calabash decked with cowrie shells was Igba Aje (Calabash of wealth). I froze for hours shaking with rage.”
“Teejay, there was a massive argument between us. I kept thinking what would be the effect of this devil worshipping lifestyle on my girls? What would be the effect of this desire to worship the god of wealth on my girls? Under same roof…in London? He told me that he got the idea from a friend right here in the UK? Really? UK ke?”
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“That was how I locked him out. Thank God, the property was Council owned. Six months ago, I heard that he was seen in Abuja still looking for the money he could not see in his 57 years of existence. I am still bearing the spiritual effect of those cursed objects in my flat. I could feel demonic presence even though I took the objects to our dump site. My pastor has been to my place to sanctify it and I have done two deliverances with my children.”
MM’s case stunned me. Her experience shocked me. So, we still have Nigerians who could not make full use of the opportunities around them in the UK and weave a success story?
Why would Biodun gamble his life away to be rich? How many rich and successful Nigerians in the UK made it through gambling? Could it be because he lived in Harlesden where sometimes the meaning of life could be expressed through alcohol and gambling? My mind queried.
MM left. I found my way back to Samba. She was preparing to leave. “I had been waiting to conclude my fight with DK,” she said. “Oya now, let’s conclude,” I responded. “So, DK fought back saying that he was laying the foundation of our future. Enhhn…I laughed. Can you imagine? Laying whose foundation? Teejay so ngbo jare…This is a man who had a child with our white neighbour. A man who abandoned his home in the UK. A man who secretly betrayed me by going solo. A man who built investment in Nija and a house without letting me know. How can such a man say that he was doing it for our future? I realised that he had taken me for a fool. And that made me angrier.”
Seun “SS” Sokoya, slim, tall and friendly came to my side with her trademark grin. She pulled me away from Samba. Samba protested but to no success. She offered me a half-used roll of peppermint. I took two and complimented her attire and the smell of her perfume. “Teejay, you see, Dele my ex-husband was an incurable voyeur. A sex snooper. Hun….he was addicted to pornography. I satisfied him with everything. My time, my money, my care and my body. But his problem was porno!!! He was sacked from his job when he was caught looking at porno at lunch time by his manager. It was a great job, and he was earning good money. Because of that addiction, he stopped going to church. I recommended therapy, he refused. I was desperate to shield my young children from such a man. I have two girls and a boy.”
“My two young daughters were my main worry. Because I know that a pornographer may become a paedophile, I started taking my girls with me when I’m going out. I could not bear to leave them with him. I was protecting the girls from their dad and at the same time creating an emotional gulf. The guy was just obsessed with looking at sexual acts through porno.”
“So, one day, I searched his gym bag. There, I found some kinky stuff like lubricating jelly, handcuff, masks, whip and dildo. I saw some phone numbers and addresses of three women. The names sounded white. I was shocked. Instantly, I knew what was going on. Dele is a commercial gigolo. A week later I ordered him out.”
The time was 11.45pm. The full blast of the winter night assaulted us as I walked with the ladies to the car park. Bori was leading the pack. She had party take away on both left and right hand. Some had unfurled their geles to allow a bit of hair on their scalps. I walked beside Samba.
“Mr Teejay, at last, DK’s mum came to the hotel to talk to me. The woman held me close, talked and pampered me with words of wisdom. She took out some tissues to wipe my tears. I changed locks and barred him from coming back home. But guess what, I have moved on. I don’t want any man anymore in my life jare. A lot of Nigerian men here in the UK have been sent packing by their wives for one marital sacrilege or the other. I’ve had enough of their wahala. Abi, you get oyibo man for me?”
I fell into a pensive mood. My eyes suddenly brightened up. I stood there looking at the brightly lit car park unable to know what to say especially to her last sentence about some Nigerian men in the UK. Hunn…marital sacrilege…marital sacrilege…marital sacrilege.
“Teejay! Teejay!!Teejay!!!” Someone hollered my name. It was my man, Gbolahan Teniola Badmus –GTB. He too was making way to his car at the car park. I walked to him still rolling Samba’s last word in my head.
“Paddy mi, nibo loti mo gbogbo awon pretty women yi?” GTB wanted to know where I knew these pretty ladies who surrounded me like lions to a prey. I explained what had been going on between us at the party venue. “Ma dawon lohun jare…some of them are ungrateful, wicked and useless,” GTB charged, looking angry. “Are you free next weekend?” GTB asked. “I will check my schedule and let you know,” I responded. “Just come to my restaurant and listen to men who have been mistreated by Nigerian women. Come and see men who are bitter and regretting ever bringing their wives over to the UK…the gist go shock you,” GTB insisted.
Ok bro. I jumped into his car for a free ride to Elephant & Castle for a train journey back home.
Hear the jilted men out in the New Year. Merry Christmas to all my readers….and Happy New Year!!!
