tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19144868738881577712024-03-13T12:45:59.479-07:00My life, My scriptA memoir...of life, events and other things..Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.comBlogger85125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-56029604657590008492017-05-25T06:58:00.000-07:002017-05-25T06:58:13.757-07:00The Blood Series 6<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhexNN8gGe1Z48QVIcwyPMTuw3KNz6wjXNp3y27uJRB1YC7OQ0WLL84ryVaef2t0qvvKa7wgwsBnpvM1VlZ57bJDqNGaZMukZsAmWfKNPtYeqm2f5q3nxf4XtEmV06_Kp30Durn8gIoEK0/s1600/hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhexNN8gGe1Z48QVIcwyPMTuw3KNz6wjXNp3y27uJRB1YC7OQ0WLL84ryVaef2t0qvvKa7wgwsBnpvM1VlZ57bJDqNGaZMukZsAmWfKNPtYeqm2f5q3nxf4XtEmV06_Kp30Durn8gIoEK0/s1600/hands.jpg" /></a></div>
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Abel: You haven’t started menstruation so you can’t get pregnant. </div>
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Hauwa: But I’m scared</div>
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Abel: It’ll be fine. My biology teacher Mr Olabisi says pregnancy only happens when the girl has started menstruating </div>
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Hausa: but my mum said….</div>
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Abel: don’t you believe me, I won’t hurt you…Trust me I love you. I’m in secondary school they teach us these things..</div>
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<br /></div>
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My first true menstrual talk was from a deceitful human being (…. because I can’t use the exact words coming to my mind I’d say human being). </div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
Abel had used the same line on three other girls in my estate, Ana wasn’t so lucky because she got pregnant and is now out of school, I don't think her life every really got back to normal or close to normal. </div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
I was 11 and in primary 6 when Abel came with his luring words, puberty started early for me because by primary 5 I was already wearing a bra, menses only came about 8 months later ( about 3 weeks after Abel and I met). </div>
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<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
He was this swave teenager and almost every girl I knew in that estate sought his attention. For me, it was easy, our mothers were besties so often met under very awkward settings. He was 16, I still don't know how our mothers felt he could look after the other kids when they needed some "alone time" as they called it. The first few baby sittings were at my house so Abel just sat by the computer in the study area and the remaining kids (myself excluded) ran around the house. The last time I had agreed to be watched, mummy decided going to Mrs Omode's was best since they had a spa day. Abel was cool but a bit more friendly than I remember (maybe because I was in his train). </div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
" Hey Hauwa, we're the oldest why not hangout with me"...my eyes became the size of saucers but I obliged.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
We walked up the stairs to what was an average teenage boy's room..." you have this too all to yourself?" "Yes" I swallowed my reservations about the decor and walked to the only chair in the room...Then as my eye adjusted to the blue light I saw the half-naked poster of one of this american musicians (i really can't remember who it was because that was just when he decided the distance between us was too wide). I was almost breathing down his face..."You don't look comfortable on that chair" with all my discomfort I moved closer and as conversation flowed I warmed up to him. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitV4Z4wVKGZBe0fpyRSwLXUWZc4uLW2XUzVmcdheOuh6a43hHBvpLz5Dpr_3SVTpYoU3tnKykpp43hQdzgIKWbP1xfqhDnB4KuVkiFWPrcW8vwvSche-wvKqt8Z3d5KRB5QDDbfTF21TM/s1600/sitting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="672" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitV4Z4wVKGZBe0fpyRSwLXUWZc4uLW2XUzVmcdheOuh6a43hHBvpLz5Dpr_3SVTpYoU3tnKykpp43hQdzgIKWbP1xfqhDnB4KuVkiFWPrcW8vwvSche-wvKqt8Z3d5KRB5QDDbfTF21TM/s320/sitting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
Abel and Favour were the only two children from their parent's 12 year marriage, they had divorced and the mansion was part of the settlement. He and his brother had separate rooms and there were two other spare rooms in the house. My house was a lot different, Kayla and Michel were my twin younger ones but I and Kayla had to share a room so I was intrigued that Abel had a sense of independence. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
The next few months we secretly dated (our mothers oblivious of it all) and we had gotten too comfortable. We had even kissed and because he was about entering SS3 he felt entitled to have sex. I was more scared and didn't share his excitement. Abel had several theories and I wasn't buying any. I knew he was seeing other girls but each time he called me childish (after all I was a child). </div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
He was raw first to feel them (my newly developing breasts) and so when he brought the menses discussion I almost gave in but instead broke off the relationship and ran home. </div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
...Mummy always wondered why I never wanted to go to Mrs Omode's, my previous excitement was now non-existent, she never thought anything of it. I remember the day I asked her about menstruation, her words were enlightening and somewhat empowering, " Hauwa, I was putting off this discussion because I was scared you had grown up too fast but...we will discuss it"</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
she shared the truth with me..</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
- Six months after that I was in almost done with JSS 1 the rumours of Ana's pregnancy was all over school, she lived a few houses from ours and I knew Abel and her were an item seeing that he was to of school and awaiting JAMB the entire period. That same evening Abel and his mum were at my house and this time his mother was furious, obviously he was responsible for the pregnancy and they needed an action plan.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
I felt lucky I wasn't in Ana's condition, I couldn't help but wonder why she or any girl will fall for his cheap lies. The parents in the estate often said the children were too mature for their age but no one took any action to prepare us for the challenges this 'mature' mindset would bring...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
I am a 3rd year University student now and I always wondered what happened to Ana after all these years...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-53622155809232041662017-05-24T09:53:00.000-07:002017-05-25T03:37:52.120-07:00The Blood Series 5<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">Yecenu Sasetu is a journalist so she understands the impact a story like
her’s will have.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">Giggling as we begin the recording Yecenu excitedly recalls
the events of that day…</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32TsGWvL8mmMvdDEuQsPFjpXf7K1dlbPycZ7CkW0OP9of7kf49NtfdySfwJcBb5em4AhDMWdtTv2Xz3odtoraHQSrLHtOd9jBGp-Cl-a1q8CFUOKGckXVeh55uMBJEAsHu0h7kpFGJYI/s1600/stain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32TsGWvL8mmMvdDEuQsPFjpXf7K1dlbPycZ7CkW0OP9of7kf49NtfdySfwJcBb5em4AhDMWdtTv2Xz3odtoraHQSrLHtOd9jBGp-Cl-a1q8CFUOKGckXVeh55uMBJEAsHu0h7kpFGJYI/s320/stain.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">“So I wake up, getting ready for the family devotion. In my night
gown at the time, I ran down stairs and walked passed my mother to prepare my
stuff for school before it was devotion time. Oblivious of the stain on my
nightie she grabs my hand exclaiming…”come come come”. She drags me back into
the kitchen before my brothers got a glimpse of what was happening and gives me
the quickest crash course on menstruation I have heard. It went something like,
“now you have started, if you allow any man to touch you, you will get
pregnant.” For an 11 year old, I had no idea what this meant but nodded anyway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">“ I already knew what menstruation was but didn’t have in-depth
knowledge, I had noticed my older cousin and I kind of knew…so when mummy asked
to see what had stained my dress I knew I had to have been stained. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">That first year was a learning curve because prior to this we
never had formal discussions about a period, I would see my cousin using a
sanitary pad and she’d just explain why she needed to use one. My memory from
seeing her put on a pad helped me the first time. Mummy later taught me how to
wear a sanitary pad and I survived the first period. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">The next period was about three months later and this time I knew
what to do, knew where the sanitary pad was and so it almost went unnoticed… </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">Yecenu’s journey like for most of us had embarrassing experiences,
twists and turns…</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUxANTCwvte3Bsr8JGcqOh_n9BbReVag7rnB1d-Yxk2mO87-rYr_PtMfAeizwEUbNTvTDMyO5SQ25i3pmtHE0msnAyEtISQrac5RzXLt0yVapHsxm8lLobi57bqQoohphjfgspO6GZxI/s1600/stain2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUxANTCwvte3Bsr8JGcqOh_n9BbReVag7rnB1d-Yxk2mO87-rYr_PtMfAeizwEUbNTvTDMyO5SQ25i3pmtHE0msnAyEtISQrac5RzXLt0yVapHsxm8lLobi57bqQoohphjfgspO6GZxI/s200/stain2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">“This faithful Sunday, I was visiting a cousin and I knew from
church I needed to replace the sanitary pad but the toilet didn’t present a
pleasant environment; I quickly rushed to the bathroom in my cousin’s house and
wore the half of the pad I had with me… (SO long story about the half pad, my
mom used to cut the pads in two mainly because they were large in the 90’s and
she was also trying to save a buck)…. back to my story; unknown to me, the glue on
the half pad I changed to had worn off, I headed out for a game of
football and in the heat of running around the pad dropped on the field…there I
was not even knowing it fell out. The rush of embarrassment filled me because a
group of young men were staring at me with a look that suggested their surprise
all I could think of was bury this thing so, I tried covering it with dirt and
the staring didn’t stop at this point I wanted the pad to melt into the ground
(you guessed; it didn’t melt), I quickly abandoned the pad, the game, everything and ran into the
house…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">My first year of menstruation was tough, the inexperience, lack of
proper education, lack of guidance didn’t help, I didn’t know how to maintain
myself. It was tougher because I was also just developing breasts (now wearing
a bra) and the shame, the pain and teasing that came with it all was too much
for a girl in primary school to bare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
mother having had 4 boys before me didn’t know how to handle her little girl in puberty
so that crash talk in the kitchen was all I got, probably with a little more
help, my first year menstruating wouldn’t have been so hellish... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;"><b>Young girls need to be properly informed about what their body is going through, that information mothers shy away from is what has landed may young girls in uncomfortable or life altering situations.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "serif"; font-size: 16.0pt;">Today, Yecenu spends her time as an award winning health Journalist bringing
hygiene education to young girls, giving them sanitary items as well as
addressing issues around maternal and child health. You can catch her weekly on
“the Clinic every Saturday, 10 AM on 99.9 Kiss FM Abuja. </span></div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-78943019720763233932017-05-22T08:55:00.001-07:002017-05-22T08:55:06.287-07:00The Blood series 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2OTf3de8OTQooaP9LylIXQdc2BgFWjrHwwJAmm7QAAyx2PTH3qGkCukqBhY3Bnrq8q90uLcgOODUph94zdCn4FNYbzA_qSfFXBlI_6glE_VGkX5hcBb-XM-2alDoRbdbmDvPpf_5fLvs/s1600/scolding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2OTf3de8OTQooaP9LylIXQdc2BgFWjrHwwJAmm7QAAyx2PTH3qGkCukqBhY3Bnrq8q90uLcgOODUph94zdCn4FNYbzA_qSfFXBlI_6glE_VGkX5hcBb-XM-2alDoRbdbmDvPpf_5fLvs/s320/scolding.jpg" width="306" /></a></div>
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<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
“Now that you have seen your menses, if you sleep with a man you will get pregnant” </div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
Nwanneka’s blood shot eyes were revealing her fears but her mother went on in her thick igbo accent… “Nwa, if you get pregnant you will drop out of school and you don’t want that”. Her confusion didn’t allow her hear what mum was saying and that rang through her head.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
The first period lasted a day (to what Nwanneka thought was a relief) she was 11 at the time. Mummy was at work and she didn’t understand what was happening. Her older sister Nkem just asked her to use tissues for the day…Without any guidance Nwanneka rolled up the largest tissue as uncomfortable as it was, it did the magic (the tissue later fell out without her knowing). </div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
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<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
Nwanneka remembers it like it was yesterday, she could almost feel the excruciating pain. It was a few months to her 16th birthday and SS3 meant womanhood and she couldn’t take pride in being one, after all her friends were menstruating and she was still waiting to formally get hers (that one day thing 5years prior was not a period). </div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
To avoid being suspected of pregnancy Nwanneka quickly told mum when the periods were far and between.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0VDf8hjGeNgUelCbs3GN5kGGtigAArckRKP2jVVIhDV5UQvIReTCN0lxbK2DfZDM1UDkYk4FJ93f_RZandnIpmU7xpK7_UJaYIooNWQMzTlfI56_y9fRlRLdniMwtIh31ozajzEh1KPg/s1600/sickbed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0VDf8hjGeNgUelCbs3GN5kGGtigAArckRKP2jVVIhDV5UQvIReTCN0lxbK2DfZDM1UDkYk4FJ93f_RZandnIpmU7xpK7_UJaYIooNWQMzTlfI56_y9fRlRLdniMwtIh31ozajzEh1KPg/s320/sickbed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
She had prayed and wished for the period but she hadn’t bargained for the pain that accompanied it. She was rushed to the hospital and the course of pills begun…. her periods were now pills induced, (pills she found out in her adulthood were contraceptives). She now wonders why the doctor’s never tested her for what was causing the epileptic periods other than treat the pain that the PMS came with (this was in the 1990’s, could the doctor’s excuse be that they were not aware of life altering conditions they could have checked for? of were they just ignorant of lazy and under paid). </div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
Fast forward to 2016, Nwanneka and Chuks had been married four years and the trial for baby was real. They both knew something was wrong because the epileptic periods meant something had to be wrong. Two years in the wrong hospital and they almost gave up…”I’m I damaged goods that no hospital can give me a diagnosis in over 20 years” Chuks was a supportive man and he always knew how to cheer her up whether it was his funny jokes, a simple pat on the back, a back rub or just listening to her. His decision to try another hospital was no surprise because they were both already frustrated with the old one.</div>
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<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
After another month-long period which left Nwanneka in hospital and having to be transfused a diagnosis was reached; it was a relief at least to know it had a name….PCOS Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome “it’s treatable but I’m sorry it has no cure” as the Doctor went on Chuks held her hand tightly amid tears as if assuring her they would get through together. She wonders if early detection of her condition could have helped, se questions the competence of our health system and wonders how many more women never get diagnosed especially for period related issues just because it’s period related.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEkxUQSgr6vBLDwNq1sWvCw-yx8unQXhcvZzqSyc-hXOr5zqp46duDQ1FBdeTQihkWSJqGFlfE0-5V1fK35ZUTUuOAEuhavffxDUJxkUzMyZI792UnUi9R2nXSK7woojI2XOPletM26zo/s1600/signssymptoms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEkxUQSgr6vBLDwNq1sWvCw-yx8unQXhcvZzqSyc-hXOr5zqp46duDQ1FBdeTQihkWSJqGFlfE0-5V1fK35ZUTUuOAEuhavffxDUJxkUzMyZI792UnUi9R2nXSK7woojI2XOPletM26zo/s320/signssymptoms.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
Nwanneka pictured her teenage years and how many symptoms of PCOS she had in plain sight, she had suffered constant weight gain, thinning hair, the absent menses...it was all too clear to miss. She knew she had to put all her hurt aside and the anger she carried with her.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal;">
The tedious treatments are on course with numerous side effects…Nwanneka and Chuks are now on the path to becoming parents…</div>
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<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; min-height: 19px;">
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-90502206395412543512017-05-19T08:07:00.001-07:002017-05-19T08:07:31.081-07:00The Blood Series 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9uiXJy7ebTV2txLWC63qCditiPLX11Ok6OqDgNb7tnwuPLHTQSP5SlFDyP3Kh1Q3P_ORQTUs0k-y-_Z0exsOq4JZ37jQk5w2aXGwIMYl4o3zfTBLi7-QNprOZztQ3m26AEa3ZCmCNCuk/s1600/mother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9uiXJy7ebTV2txLWC63qCditiPLX11Ok6OqDgNb7tnwuPLHTQSP5SlFDyP3Kh1Q3P_ORQTUs0k-y-_Z0exsOq4JZ37jQk5w2aXGwIMYl4o3zfTBLi7-QNprOZztQ3m26AEa3ZCmCNCuk/s320/mother.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This is Simbi's story...yes Simbi (she wanted me to call her that)<br />
<br />
My first period wasn't dramatic, at least not for me, but for my mother...that's a story for another day. You see I was her last daughter and because my elder sister had grown up with an aunt my mother didn't have practice in her younger years raising a girl through puberty and so our relationship suffered.<br />
<br />
The first time I heard of menstruation, it was amid over 200 other girls, an NGO had visited my school to talk to us about menstrual hygiene and distribute sanitary pads. I was 11 at the time and I took the information my little mind could bare to understand.<br />
This would become a common occurrence at school and each time I found myself with a new pack of sanitary pads I had not use for "Yet".<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwGV6dtjN7bj6Tqmbt0gNqsTj9WY93e7KUlHKNzDpfNtSnibv4P7XyvjMETuPMJ0aBTDp4gigzQoN5pHR2pQi0zywcf1i4W-kWB63FmMVHifGhtgd9UcGSXEc2fbmxFYEd0T3FvkP2Kg/s1600/pads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwGV6dtjN7bj6Tqmbt0gNqsTj9WY93e7KUlHKNzDpfNtSnibv4P7XyvjMETuPMJ0aBTDp4gigzQoN5pHR2pQi0zywcf1i4W-kWB63FmMVHifGhtgd9UcGSXEc2fbmxFYEd0T3FvkP2Kg/s200/pads.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
The day finally came, I saw the blood; I made my way out of the bathroom and when my mother saw me frantically getting tissues she sensed what was up but didn't say anything and neither did I...The awkward silence between us only said we both knew what was happening. When she finally summoned courage to ask what the tissue was for, I had to answer and I could see the fear in her eyes, her confusion but the conversation ended there our none-existent relationship didn't allow her saw any further.<br />
<br />
The next five days and the rest of the year was filled with self-conscious moments, I had a constant fear of getting stained (which I eventually did several times).<br />
I had heard during those lectures that using tissues for period wasn't safe but I ended up having to use them since I couldn't ask my mother for pads or money to buy them. I even hid my PMS from her and suffered it alone... School became more stressful especially the days I was on but I endured it all...<br />
Even though I was expecting my period, my first menstruation memory isn't what I thought it'd be.. The entire first year of my period I used tissues, anytime I found myself in public restrooms I raided them for tissue paper because I knew it would come in handy, I wouldn't have had to suffer this if my mother had laid aside her fears and talked to me about it, after all I was scared, my bosy was changing and I didn't know how to deal with it....<br />
<br />
Simbi; now an educator spends her days grooming young minds and teaching young girls confidence building and being that listening ear to those that need it. She hope her mother gets to read this story. <br />
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-81423552510561572182017-05-18T09:03:00.001-07:002017-05-18T09:03:45.877-07:00The Blood series 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"I'm sorry we might need your husband for this"... Sede's breathing became heavier than usual, this couldn't be good if the Doctor needed Tade to be here for this... "it's just me...he doesn't care...I mean he's not here so go ahead". Looking more concerned Dr. Odes picked up what looked like a test result and began to read...Sede's mind had wondered off but she clearly remembered coming through when she heard "You have PCOS"..."huh? what's that?" sitting down, Dr Odes set her glasses aside and began her explanation.. "PCOS is <span class="st">Polycystic Ovary Syndrome; </span>it's a problem where a woman's hormones<span style="color: black;"></span> are out of balance. It can cause problems with your periods and even make it difficult to get pregnant, I'm guessing that's why you haven't.<br />
<br />
By now the tears were flowing freely, "Tade's mum was right, it's all my fault, how did I get this? what did I do?" Dr Odes was by Sede's side, this was common response with 90% of her patients...<br />
"Look Mrs Philips, you didn't cause this, the cause of PCOS is not fully understood it seems to run in families, so your chance of having it is higher if
other women in your family have it or have irregular periods..<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9P-LtW3c7nOuCRW874LSl8Aq6xLvL2BWVpSPExan9ZW27WJXmuv2sS9ygWHvh9TZjIW6R7taVeEQfVjgyQYe7f8mvk3vYz-kRWR4a9VAfLzv4BmqKQgENq75RrZigKz5nypKurRgDrI/s1600/PCOS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9P-LtW3c7nOuCRW874LSl8Aq6xLvL2BWVpSPExan9ZW27WJXmuv2sS9ygWHvh9TZjIW6R7taVeEQfVjgyQYe7f8mvk3vYz-kRWR4a9VAfLzv4BmqKQgENq75RrZigKz5nypKurRgDrI/s320/PCOS.jpg" width="243" /></a></div>
Sede now 38 remembers her first period, she was one of the late bloomers, her periods didn't come until she was in SS1 7months to her 16th birthday. She always heard her mother say she got her period at 11, her older sister got her's at 13 so it was no wonder Sede felt a little different.<br />
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When the period finally came it was irregular, appearing maybe 8 or 9 times a year. Sometimes she felt lucky because she didn't menstruate every month. She was never one to see a gynecologist, her first visit ever was in her 300 level when she had what she called a nasty infection and self medication didn't work... The next time Sede would see a gyne was 5 years ago;<br />
"how did they miss this PCOS thing the first time" her sobs were deep and Dr Odes could only give her time to let it out.<br />
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The crying was over and Sede knew she had work to do, Dr Odes talked her through the cause of treatment and there was hope on the horizon but Tade needed to be on track.<br />
The ride home felt longer than the actual 20 minutes, she often went in and out of concentration forgetting intersections and just driving. She was prepared for the worse but she had seen a glimmer of hope, Tade's behavior from the past week seemed he either had something planned to get him out of what he called "their misery" of he was seeing things from her stand point.<br />
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"Babe is that you?" his voice almost sounded his former self, Sede knew she had to tell him "Yes, I'm coming from the hospital" his expression was priceless, that was when he noticed she'd been crying, this was his "Sede" his demeanor quickly changed and then she knew his guard was down..."the doctor said I have PCOS"..."what?" he was patient to listen to her explanation between sobs and he knew he had to come clean.<br />
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"I'm sorry I've kept this from you babe, I also went to see the doctor, I have <span class="_Tgc">oligospermia" her eyes were like saucers she didn't know what that was but she knew they had their work cut out...her family was back together and in that moment that was all she could think of...</span><br />
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-82083058951137134212017-05-16T07:45:00.000-07:002017-05-16T07:45:02.018-07:00The Blood Series Episode 1.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The phrase "about last night" always had a bad connotation and Liz felt so too. The humid Lagos weather that August evening had gone on into the night and that was the night she saw it.<br />
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Liz had woken up with a strong urge to use the bathroom, because she knew her way around she didn't bother putting on the light, trying to ignore the stomach pain she made her way to the bathroom switched on the light and as she sat was when she saw it, a brownish red colour all over her under wear... Mummy had told them about menstruation and she had waited two years to see it. Knowing what to do she quickly washed up, took care of herself and returned to bed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGBrxhiPLRgw-X71jYdg0S9brsWIX0moqVUgkB-1ysYA9BVDrEI0BKY-g9NmEUhcpnoX2X2jTImcxVvcHVMlOr2HdanwGdlLmy8d2VVvpE1WlakPKRSiTdRLL_I5vWNJHpMj8URA_iJQ/s1600/shilouette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGBrxhiPLRgw-X71jYdg0S9brsWIX0moqVUgkB-1ysYA9BVDrEI0BKY-g9NmEUhcpnoX2X2jTImcxVvcHVMlOr2HdanwGdlLmy8d2VVvpE1WlakPKRSiTdRLL_I5vWNJHpMj8URA_iJQ/s320/shilouette.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It was August 1993 and Lagos seemed the perfect place for the long vacation. All five children had momentarily abandoned their mother in Kaduna and opted for the Lagos adventure. It was always fun being in Lagos and this time was no different.<br />
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That afternoon, Liz her two siblings and some kids from the neighbourhood had joined the tennis group, it was an Army barracks so sport facilities were operational.<br />
the coach seemed tough but the kids were having the holiday of their life.<br />
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It was the way her stomach hurt that evening made her worried, dad had offered what pain medication he had handy and even given a hot water bottle (the kind pregnant women or very sick people used to warm themselves). She had some relief and did not think about it. Liz was going to resume school that October as a JSS 3 student and it was going to be her 12th birthday.<br />
It did not occur to her or her older sister or her dad that the stomach ache was PMS.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPXo0FP0uP3lyjY_k9CgUtOAsIyVi84xEY1SNRYfg2YOsCtkrG1QHC4l6MhOcJcIfNjHgbA5FIbxHnwlXw4sFwEtswbCHWfV-ioITcfNtjTPoh-oHdscUGMI08XSPlswDN8deYXCW5EJw/s1600/keep-calm-it-s-only-pms-2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPXo0FP0uP3lyjY_k9CgUtOAsIyVi84xEY1SNRYfg2YOsCtkrG1QHC4l6MhOcJcIfNjHgbA5FIbxHnwlXw4sFwEtswbCHWfV-ioITcfNtjTPoh-oHdscUGMI08XSPlswDN8deYXCW5EJw/s320/keep-calm-it-s-only-pms-2.png" width="274" /></a></div>
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When the telephone rang, Jess rushed to it knowing it was their mom calling, she always called around 7pm, "Liz?" 'No mum its Jess, Liz isn't feeling well". Liz had only shared with her two older sisters what had happened, both being experienced bought the pad and sorted everything out, daddy didn't need to know.<br />
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After speaking to the other 4 it was Liz' turn and she knew Suzy had told mummy but she still felt embarrassed, "Hello mummy" her soft voice was worrisome, she was the loud one, the tomboy, the playful one (middle child also) "my dear how do you feel, I hear it came today?" "yes mum".<br />
"remember I told you what's going on in your body?, please rest if you feel the need to, also ask daddy for money to buy sanitary pads and bath at least twice daily" Liz was more shocked her mum had just told her to ask dad for sanitary pads "mum I can't ask daddy, can you tell him? I'm shy"<br />
Mum laughed and eased any worry she had..."As for the stomach pain, no need to worry, its only PMS, premenstrual syndrome, it'll pass quickly".<br />
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---Liz counted the minutes till dad returned, she planned to ask quickly and not looking him in the eye. "Dad, I need money" between his bite of yam and egg sauce the slight frown told her she need to explain. "I want to buy...ehn....pad" he dropped his fork smiled and reached for his wallet, "I hope this will do?" she grabbed the money and ran.<br />
That December, Liz will go on to help another girl in school (An SS2 Student)... It took another 3 months before the next one came and this time there was no pain...</div>
Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-43616069305977986622017-05-15T06:00:00.002-07:002017-05-15T06:04:39.648-07:00The Blood Series<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39okjMl0LSNJ0FEog5YM_zbe2zNcKht1uz8mgcVZxHroB6ATzJ6cDhF3C4Yfj6Jj4kCbeonNF2VTzONV37r-aiebJRqAIRsiBtwPiQaCWdAHxHDt0XJqTo8w9i-BpkQ0Vt5NG3pJ24l8/s1600/MHD_fullcolor.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="99" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39okjMl0LSNJ0FEog5YM_zbe2zNcKht1uz8mgcVZxHroB6ATzJ6cDhF3C4Yfj6Jj4kCbeonNF2VTzONV37r-aiebJRqAIRsiBtwPiQaCWdAHxHDt0XJqTo8w9i-BpkQ0Vt5NG3pJ24l8/s320/MHD_fullcolor.png" width="320" /></a>Starting today May 15, I will be embarking on another of my adventures (writing adventures). This one might be unsettling for some, eye opening for others but my goal is to demystify the topic.<br />
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In honour of the Menstrual Hygiene Day May 28, I came up with "The blood series" that tells 10 different stories and experiences of women with menstruation. The stories will be factual but spun with fictional elements<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb9sDl_PJwYfux06AGnsOvk183nd1TLm4KJ-0Upa3HUDfLmAlBnYBxyZvrbmpF7pQp7zN3q1QOC__aw75am-zjdKtCPpmqehR7moLHxIk3HRyyESgvbN3n_95oR61xytdms-TraL7sBlY/s1600/MHMDay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb9sDl_PJwYfux06AGnsOvk183nd1TLm4KJ-0Upa3HUDfLmAlBnYBxyZvrbmpF7pQp7zN3q1QOC__aw75am-zjdKtCPpmqehR7moLHxIk3HRyyESgvbN3n_95oR61xytdms-TraL7sBlY/s320/MHMDay.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Menstrual Hygiene Day will help to break the silence and build awareness
about the fundamental role that good menstrual hygiene management (MHM)
plays in enabling women and girls to reach their full potential.<br />
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The numbers are glaring, if you look closely in communities around you, young girls avoid school when they are on their periods.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggp44EdPcl3-B_5earygKTnktuRIyiljKow25aDyEofUqgVYLtYg3GYovOqNsCe-eb_nQUP3SkXF8tnQNbp4n2fgEQoZzBi2Cw0IFAPPn3JGEQ_edB6bSV9e-r33l8XR-7nf1o2NmMJkM/s1600/2017-05-MHM-Day-INFOGRAPHICS_04-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggp44EdPcl3-B_5earygKTnktuRIyiljKow25aDyEofUqgVYLtYg3GYovOqNsCe-eb_nQUP3SkXF8tnQNbp4n2fgEQoZzBi2Cw0IFAPPn3JGEQ_edB6bSV9e-r33l8XR-7nf1o2NmMJkM/s320/2017-05-MHM-Day-INFOGRAPHICS_04-1.png" width="320" /></a>In February we had an outreach to a community on the outskirts of Nigeria's capital Abuja called Guyidna, the secondary school we visited had 21 female students all under 19 years. About 6 of those girls admitted to having heavy menstrual flow and cutting school in the 4 to 6 days they have their periods while others said they don't stay the whole day. Some common reasons include; lack of sanitary items like pads and good underwear, poor toilet facilities, no water source in school and the fear of getting stained.<br />
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Menstruation is a basic part of a woman's life and has over time been identified with shame, being dirty and many other taboos and myths.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSs8JBN3ZS3AmegmSJOvNFDVvsKuxxsLZxidnfYslZ_1TTiLFMC12gBpk9y44LVeTKHklrfzwWvK-SB-ExOmCspaFJLDX7wzsy9xvi73PWgOf7k6nJKhEuEqBMZQloq81pK-pFaEi_Jzo/s1600/MHday-2016-Infographic-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSs8JBN3ZS3AmegmSJOvNFDVvsKuxxsLZxidnfYslZ_1TTiLFMC12gBpk9y44LVeTKHklrfzwWvK-SB-ExOmCspaFJLDX7wzsy9xvi73PWgOf7k6nJKhEuEqBMZQloq81pK-pFaEi_Jzo/s320/MHday-2016-Infographic-1.png" width="320" /></a></div>
For more information about the campaign visit http://menstrualhygieneday.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/mhday_2017_onepager.pdf<br />
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<span style="color: rgb(100.000000% , 7.000000% , 100.000000%); font-family: "neuronheavy"; font-size: 11.000000pt; font-style: italic;">Join the campaign:
</span><br />
<span style="color: rgb(29.000000% , 100.000000% , 100.000000%); font-family: "neuronheavy"; font-size: 11.000000pt; font-style: italic;">#Menstruationmatters
www.menstrualhygieneday.org </span></div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-4012503652702165622017-02-27T05:13:00.000-08:002017-02-27T05:13:42.751-08:00Wanda's Tale Epilogue<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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One of Jude’s kicks was all it took, she lost balance and fell hitting her head, when she grew quiet he left she was woozy for a brief moment and curled up in that corner was where she died. The open head injury was deep and nothing could have been done at the instant to save her even if anyone tried.</div>
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Her life could have been saved, Wanda didn’t leave the marriage because of her children and the supposed love for her husband. Family and friends were depleted, everyone was tired and began to avoid her; in-laws would guilt her into staying (the same in-laws that promised to protect her).</div>
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The neighbours knew Jude beat her ever so often but no one ever called the police probably thinking no help would come to her and they would be in Jude’s bad graces. No justification for his actions but what if Jude got proper care, attention and thought? he probably would not have been abused. </div>
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Every abuser has a story likewise the ones who allow the abuse go on, some survivors claim that was the best representation of love they knew so they stayed until it was unbearable, others felt guilt-tripped (like Wanda) but when the strength came, they got help.</div>
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There are thousands of women who are battling domestic violence, children who experience abuse daily. Like in the case of Jude; long term abuse as a child was psychological explanation for his actions. </div>
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He was later sentenced to death, his execution method some felt was humane, they wanted him to suffer.</div>
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It was a giving; Flo and Offy adopted the children and no one had issues with it, Oma was more angry at herself for letting this continue.</div>
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Domestic violence should be discouraged and stopped, don’t penetrate the culture of silence speak up.</div>
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My little research while writing this uncovered some disturbing laws and code enshrined in Nigerian law and I thought to myself, how can we be chanting STOP domestic violence in one breath and still have laws like the penal code in Northern Nigeria which encourages violence against women. Underneath that provision, wife beating for the purpose of correction is legal by use of section 55(1) (d) of the penal code. </div>
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However, in May 2013, the National Assembly based a bill called the Violence Against Persons bill to reduce gender-based violence it was finally passed into law in May 2015 (the VAPP act 2015). It improves on the penal code as well as makes provision for compensation and the protection of their rights.</div>
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The law states that a person who batters his/her spouse commits an offence and is liable on conviction to a term of inprisonment not exceeding 3years or a fine not exceeding N200,000. (for more on VAPP 2015 see: <span style="color: #0061ff;">http://law pavilion.com/blog/he-violence-against-persons-prohibition-act-2015/</span> )</div>
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I saw this story from Mauritania and it explains a lot, some African culture is just barbaric<span style="color: #0061ff;"> </span></div>
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("You're the daughter of a woman whose husband broke her hands. Your grandmother's legs were fractured by her husband. You must be loved," Salimata said, citing her mother's words.</div>
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The 19-year-old woman from Mauritania's Soninké ethnic group, married to a man who also beats her, said she taught herself to believe what her mother told her.</div>
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"I felt like an animal that had to be disciplined," she said. "As time passed, I came to believe that my husband beats me only when he is at the peak of his love for me."</div>
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Mauritania, a poor, mainly Muslim nation, has deep social and racial divides, each group with its unique marriage norms. read more here : http://news.trust.org/item/20170225060615-sl6jl/.) </div>
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With Wanda’s tale told, my desire is to get it out through other means, hopefully we will get to watch an adaptation of the sorry or listen to it.. Watch this space.</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-41740983135551269872017-02-27T04:56:00.001-08:002017-02-27T04:56:35.812-08:00"Wanda's tale" by Ritkatmwa Gwan Episode 13<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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the Funeral…</div>
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Jude was now 12 and in JSS 1, aunty Vickky was the weekend house keeper and took a liking to him, by now his good looks had begun to show..she always had compliments, he received favours, even monetary favours and never asked questions, soon she came to collect…</div>
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Vicky had molested him until he liked it and would often offer himself to her. He began to feel he loved her. He got a rude shock when she got pregnant for the guy that owned the largest provision store in the area, she moved away and that was the end of what he thought was a great love story. She was his first love…he thought he loved her. </div>
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Jude had gone to Vicky’s house after she gave birth as she gestured to breast feed her baby he felt aroused, he made a gesture to touch her like they did to each other but the slap that hit his face was a shock, “get out of here, useless boy,” With the love bubble busted deep seated rage and hate grew…he had to leave town.</div>
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Omafuwe (his one and older sister) was re-writing SSCE and she had become a part of Uncle Efe’s family…when Jude arrived Jos he only knew Oma had referenced Rock haven, someone would know her or recognise him because of their resemblance…. life changed from then on.</div>
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back to the present:</div>
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From the church entrance the coffin was in clear site, white with gold trimmings, Charis had insisted on getting white roses, they were the kind she had ordered for her wedding, Florence was beside herself, they hadn’t spoken in months, she intended to use Charis’ wedding to smoothen things between them. She had never approved of Jude and Wanda’s toxic marriage, it was harder believing her worse fears had come to past…Oiza, oh how she had cried, she hadn’t spoken for days, she kept blaming herself (if only she had persisted, could she have prevailed?)</div>
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As the casket made it’s way down the aisle Jude could only wonder why no one had stopped him, he was regretting every moment of it…His mind drifted off to the day he convinced Wanda to have sex, they were in school, she was scared but he didn’t care, he knew she wasn’t ready but the beast in him had to be satisfied, she was somewhat a virgin…after the incident with Uncle Tam he was the next and that wasn’t a good memory as well..was it rape? he was her boyfriend he loved her… it was at that moment he knew he had control of her, she was his and no one could come between them.</div>
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the neighbours cried knowing they would live with the fading sounds of her cries from that night, Bonnie had cried a river knowing she was wearing a smile the night her friend died, what was the cry of a teething toddler to the death moans of a friend, if only she had done something. The stares from the congregation were like bullets penetrating his body even his children had a dead look in their eyes, had he ruined their childhood? did they know he was responsible for their mother’s death?</div>
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The armed guard quickly whisked him away just as the ambulance drove by, her family had used a picture of her smiling, and the poster looked so much like the Wanda he had met some 12 years ago…</div>
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THE END.</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-50039236943414776482017-02-27T04:48:00.001-08:002017-02-27T04:48:17.651-08:00"Wanda's tale" by Ritkatmwa Gwan Episode 12<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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An act of the devil… the end is near…</div>
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Hadassah would wake up craving a snack and Wanda had always warned her about groping around the kitchen late night or wee hours of the morning, she didn’t want her daughter suffering childhood obesity something she had to survive… She was 5 and half; 6 in a few months and already she had a mind of her own. </div>
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Hadassah and her brother Andrew were born 11 months apart, the two had yet again heard mum and dad the night before but this time mummy didn’t come to their room, “maybe they weren’t arguing this time”</div>
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…Wanda always wished Oiza saw her children, they would totally love her and she would have spoilt them silly. Oiza and Nicolas had married about 4 years ago and it crushed Wanda she couldn’t attend… the two hadn’t seen in 7 years. </div>
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Florence and Offy had moved to Canada and Charis was running a second degree there, they had asked Wanda to come holidaying severally but of course ‘the Tyrant’ Jude always refused. Their wedding was almost a year after Flo and Offy’s and even before it everyone knew the marriage was a mistake but it was her choice and Jude did a good job pretending to have changed. </div>
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Running down the stairs Hadassah noticed mum lying in a corner and it looked like she had spent the night there…”should I wake mummy or just run back upstairs?” as if whispering to herself as she moved closer, trying hard not to wake up the whole house “mummy, mummy” Wanda was a light sleeper but she wasn’t responding, not even her normal “go back to bed stare or grunt”, it was then Hadassah noticed the blood, she switched on the light and let out a loud shrill</div>
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….Jude was woken by the noise he glanced at his newly acquired digital clock it was 4:25 AM even the neighbours had heard it “isn’t it too early for this children to be causing a nuisance?” when the sobbing wouldn’t stop he got up already working a temper…storming down the stairs there was no telling what could go down that early…</div>
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——Jude had attended 5 Primary schools and 3 secondary schools he moved around a lot as a child and had different upbringing styles. Orphaned at age 7 Omafuwe his older sister was 12 so she had a better understanding of what had happened. Uncle Efe and his wife had picked her (they needed help with their triplets) but nobody wanted a little boy, what use would he be to them? He remembered the drive to Lagos, Uncle Rona had taken him after much talk, he was due to resume school in a few weeks but that never happened Mercy, Uncle Rona’s wife made sure. </div>
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After a year of doing every chore possible they had a rethink and the closest government school to the house was the only option. </div>
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He was finally rescued that christmas living with his aunt in Ibadan didn’t seem so bad, he wasn’t physically abused but he had to watch her get beaten weekly by her drunken husband who owned a series of mechanic outfits and was quite the catch so aunty Esther endured, “for the sake of the children” she’d always say. </div>
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Jude knew his numerous girlfriends, they always hungout at the workshop but he would never hurt his aunt that way, “what would telling her do?” Three years rolled by quickly and his world was altered, aunty Esther left her husband and he had to move, now in primary 6 with common entrance exams to write….finally he was shipped to Enugu, the Ezeigo’s had offered to cater to him, their parents had been good friends and taking Jude in was their way of honouring their friends. </div>
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It was in Enugu that Jude would take a downward spiral…no one knew what struck the chord that changed him…</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-43733741860758593022017-02-23T02:51:00.000-08:002017-02-23T02:51:34.375-08:00Wanda's Tale by Ritkatmwa Gwan. Episode 11<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The family… </div>
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….the sound of her ringing phone woke her up it was Jude’s elder sister “Omafuwe”..this was the third day straight she was calling…it would be rude to let the poor woman keep calling…Oiza’s voice again sounded a warning …she knocked the phone out of Wanda’s hand and it went quiet.”what do you think you are doing? is this anty Oma not Jude’s older sister? what do they want see?”… “Oiza, I appreciate you being here but it’s my life”… Oiza was hurt was more because she had travelled from her base in Osun immediately aunty Billy had called and this attitude wasn’t welcomed. </div>
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“ok then, its your life, do as you please” whatever it was that snapped inside her, Oiza had resolved to allow her friend be..this would later explain the distance in their friendship…”I’d leave first thing tomorrow, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” the awkward silence was deafening.</div>
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———Saturday morning, 8:03AM, the make up artist was already beating up Wanda’s face, even she knew she had never looked prettier, they had pictures planned for late morning and they had just 1 hour and half to be ready…</div>
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The loud chatter at the gate was a first, aunty Billy had never had confrontations so the crowd that gathered there was a surprise…as if reading her thoughts Austin entered through the service entrance ”good morning madam, na some people say them be una in-law” her glasses almost fell off “in-law? from where?” her thoughts quickly racing to the guests she was hosting for Flo and Offy’s wedding.</div>
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she was genuinely puzzled..”uncle Jude…I mean mr Jude, aunty Wanda friend…” “shut up there, uncle Jude, Mr Jude are you related to him?” “ ah, no madam…na him and him people come.” her soliloquising was cut short by Austin’s sprint to the gate…she had barely given a nod when he took off…</div>
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“Wanda, do you want to pretend you don’t know what’s happening?” Charis was the first one through the door…since mummy’s passing the girls had made anty Billy’s their home. This show down was one worth watching. </div>
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Jude’s Uncle Rona was smiling a little too much for aunty Billy and Charis knew this wouldn’t end well. He cleared his throat…“Our people say”….”excuse me sir, I am not interested in whatever nonsense your people say” the plot was thickening and aunty Billy’s British accent was in full gear (maybe to intimidate them) She gestures for him to take a seat..”Wanda” she calls out while eye balling Jude in the corner.. “ I want you to see what your son did to my daughter” she pulled the veil from Wanda’s face and a makeup sponge appeared from no where wipping off the make up. Everyone gasped, it was bad, even aunty Billy hadn’t seen it this close. she was already choking on tears but had to say her piece…”there won’t be a wedding, not this way” Jude was on all fours weeping and soon aunty Oma, Uncle Rona and his wife joined on their knees, “ madam, let us talk this thing through, he is remorseful, he is sorry and we assure you, we will look after her, Wanda is a beautiful girl”… “ Jude started to speak but his crying didn’t let him speak, Charis was emotional but happy they weren’t going ahead with the marriage, after all she had nursed her sister one too many times and knew what the end could be.</div>
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Aunty Billy knew she needed to send them away before Wanda had a rethink…” I’m sorry but you need to leave now” “Austin, please see this people out”</div>
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The gate shut and the last of the tears cried it was over. Charis and aunty Billy knew this wasn’t the end. Wanda was just staring into the distance and as if a glass had shattered she turned to them “ He truly is broken, I haven’t seen him like I did today”. Aunty Billy didn’t want to bother about that now they had Flo and Offy’s wedding to worry about. </div>
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it was clear she had a puzzled look, what did Wanda’s statement mean?</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-41195787646965677272017-02-22T00:47:00.000-08:002017-02-22T00:47:11.798-08:00Still on the matter... (Domestic Violence)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Like I said yesterday, "Wanda's Tale" ends next week, the last two episodes will all be out on Monday since the month ends on Tuesday. <div>
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It was while seeking topics for the next series that a friend asked why I chose to write on domestic violence instead of "rainbows" (these were his words). </div>
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Before then I hadn't given much thought to the negative perception certain people connoted from Wanda's Tale, all I did was sought to tell the tale as it appeared (it was my truth to tell). There's no glossy image of the truth in the story, it's fiction but based on facts. </div>
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As we continue to shed light on this ill, we hope there is a complete turn around even for the perpetrators (because they need rehabilitation too). </div>
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I recently stumbled on a blog post about a woman who had survived an experience similar to those I paint in the series and I was shocked to learn it. In all of my creativity it seemed a higher power was relaying to me the hurts of women else where.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7rosRqeW6yleLN4SR8UTF9qm0DrEg-oDCXtmxYeG1Xf_ytVOm5nMWwK8LY9yO_pb3Hd4izinT0wwl04RlIVOUOv2Y3iyAaKdv_1llUHs1sLPepxWLi_GKiNzSVYC_8J11o1aCzBkfMo/s1600/ceceyara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7rosRqeW6yleLN4SR8UTF9qm0DrEg-oDCXtmxYeG1Xf_ytVOm5nMWwK8LY9yO_pb3Hd4izinT0wwl04RlIVOUOv2Y3iyAaKdv_1llUHs1sLPepxWLi_GKiNzSVYC_8J11o1aCzBkfMo/s320/ceceyara.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">@Cece_yara </td></tr>
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Yesterday I shed light on two organisations doing amazing work on ending domestic violence and I later remembered the Force Gender Unit @FIBGender of the Nigeria Police force, the Cece Yara foundation @cece_yara which has a help line for children (how awesome).</div>
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The force gender unit has a dedicated site that takes reports and offers assistance http://www.fciidgender.net/main. The gender unit operates as part of the Force Criminal Intelligence and Investigation Department. </div>
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Cede yard on the other hand caters to children who experience sexual abuse. Lagos state safeguarding and Child Protection Policy encourages disclosure of abuse hence the foundation encourages people to take steps to report it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtBAt-d6fh7tlIoanHadB1ytroeVDQQ8KaRTdL-iYWlgVXGGM1WbPw3GPMvQgc1mcSV_ERrlt7h0VxDA6GTz3TsChhkSVxWlYPg8rS_zLCr0vW5msaoCTPlT8ox9pjMXvnQWD4PUUxJ4/s1600/wrapa+gender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtBAt-d6fh7tlIoanHadB1ytroeVDQQ8KaRTdL-iYWlgVXGGM1WbPw3GPMvQgc1mcSV_ERrlt7h0VxDA6GTz3TsChhkSVxWlYPg8rS_zLCr0vW5msaoCTPlT8ox9pjMXvnQWD4PUUxJ4/s320/wrapa+gender.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Did you know? that 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 10 boys in Nigeria experience sexual violence and most of this abuse is perpetrated by people known to them (relatives, domestic help, even parents and guardians). what this means is that; for ever 4 girls you see it's possible 1 has been sexually abused and for every 10 boys 1 has been sexually abused.</div>
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with all this and the loud chorus against domestic violence there are men in Nigeria (around you probably) who justify violence against women....1 in 4 men justify violence against women, are you the one in 4?</div>
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There's no excuse for such behaviour, if a man can tolerate a female employer or colleague without hitting her then practice the same self control when relating to your spouse or females in your own household.</div>
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The Nigeria POLICE has a working GENDER UNIT (@FIBGender) lets follow, drive traffic their way and report cases to them, I'm sure they are also open to trainings and partnerships.... </div>
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Cc: Ministry of Women Affairs we need more visibility and enlightenment on your activities. </div>
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Don't keep silent, don't encourage the culture of silence, speak up, say NO to domestic violence.</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-7894475890722137132017-02-21T03:59:00.002-08:002017-02-21T03:59:41.955-08:00It's NOT ok. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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As "Wanda's Tale" ( http://ritztruebeauty.blogspot.com.ng/2017/01/wandas-tale-by-ritkatmwa-gwan.html) wraps up next week, (yes, we are in episode 10 already) while I gather thoughts for the next series I thought to share some of my findings while on the journey.<br />
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When I started writing "Wanda's Tale" in 2013 one of my main worries was what became of survivors of domestic violence.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr93D5AbO009NedE_t1G9ncjkPjoD-23VICSYTPiOAtiERsHjFNd4KyJ0atkgRG0fDwQQrM7aS64xxwSSjE-s7tTrYrEF8lxWvA7sHMa3j5ZpxPO3vp9PNW01NTlnEGD2kH6OooQklsZo/s1600/WRAPA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr93D5AbO009NedE_t1G9ncjkPjoD-23VICSYTPiOAtiERsHjFNd4KyJ0atkgRG0fDwQQrM7aS64xxwSSjE-s7tTrYrEF8lxWvA7sHMa3j5ZpxPO3vp9PNW01NTlnEGD2kH6OooQklsZo/s400/WRAPA.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">see:<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/GBV?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#GBV</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/DomesticViolence?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#DomesticViolence</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/MaternalHealth?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#MaternalHealth</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/VAW?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#VAW</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/VictimsofAbuse?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#VictimsofAbuse</a></span></td></tr>
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Women are often stigmatised for leaving an abusive spouse, they say "women should stay because marriage isn't easy". I also asked what happens when the woman is maimed or eventually dies; she now becomes the fool who didn't know when to call it quits.<br />
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I often worried more tales like Wanda's will make the news or even be swept under the carpet and over taken by more juicy political squabbles.<br />
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Imagine my excitement when I recently stumbled on "<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">The Haki project" by WRAPA which is </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">operationalizing the provisions of the two adopted model laws (</span><a href="https://www.google.com.ng/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=6&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwi56srB-p7SAhXH1hoKHfuWCrAQFgg2MAU&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.v4c-nigeria.com%2Fvapp-act-signed-into-law-may-25th-2015%2F&usg=AFQjCNGBQj5q8esipzhkyUar1qfMJue1Ww&bvm=bv.147448319,d.d2s" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #337ab7; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">VAPP</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> & </span><a href="http://wrapanigeria.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/Flyer-GEO-Bill.pdf" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #337ab7; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">GEO</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> Bills). This projects provide capacity building for </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Police and Magistrate Court Judges on Violence against Women. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzrpTrRGxjCXb_5gorF3WaafymNCwBnG0MPcInjqLbDpGYaoB_9S0-p4eAHSfaA7DEgB17XejhmKvMJy72I_XRN7k0cbsLiuwGUPHeMh7v1Ny2S-J5HL7V5Ol9O97aoJBEnqa10kUzMEo/s1600/wrapa3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzrpTrRGxjCXb_5gorF3WaafymNCwBnG0MPcInjqLbDpGYaoB_9S0-p4eAHSfaA7DEgB17XejhmKvMJy72I_XRN7k0cbsLiuwGUPHeMh7v1Ny2S-J5HL7V5Ol9O97aoJBEnqa10kUzMEo/s320/wrapa3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">see: see:<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/GBV?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#GBV</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/DomesticViolence?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#DomesticViolence</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/MaternalHealth?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#MaternalHealth</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/VAW?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#VAW</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/VictimsofAbuse?src=hash" style="color: #4a913c; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.25999999046325684px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#VictimsofAbuse</a></span></td></tr>
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Many will agree with me that most victims embrace the culture of silence because law enforcement seem to also judge them and often dismiss these issues as personal that need to be settled without their help. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBmjp_x_IiY-9OA2tv-lY89coEfy_ZgMrYmuJNLE0Iu7KfTL_GcxeP9guDtJ8F-eLbARIZx9lsra4Qt08Jg8ID22MiHvr6OaORYdofrYKbxVUhYqzg_wVKEp5JLPDPOcnvUbsQ9CWdtU/s1600/wrapa2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrBmjp_x_IiY-9OA2tv-lY89coEfy_ZgMrYmuJNLE0Iu7KfTL_GcxeP9guDtJ8F-eLbARIZx9lsra4Qt08Jg8ID22MiHvr6OaORYdofrYKbxVUhYqzg_wVKEp5JLPDPOcnvUbsQ9CWdtU/s320/wrapa2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">see: <strong class="fullname js-action-profile-name show-popup-with-id" data-aria-label-part="" style="color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left;">WRAPA Nigeria</strong><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #8899a6; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="color: #8899a6; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left;"></span><span class="username js-action-profile-name" data-aria-label-part="" style="color: #8899a6; direction: ltr; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left; unicode-bidi: embed;"><span style="color: #b1bbc3;">@</span>WRAPANG</span><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #8899a6; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;"> You can read more about their work here; http://wrapanigeria.org/haki-mkononi-project-holds-workshop-strengthen-knowledge-police-magistrate-judges-violence-women-vaw/.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2-ndkqXG4RNvG9SA0ZB1fGxnWmA4AJUCwU_NQG963Vnz_bdR5-DHHR315_O0vM7b_JGqWYI2SuJ5za2zT3TZxGjYwnCWli8XeLzE5Kwa7UamhO5f_8a0HfyGJ783qrNqKY5TqfCtHgHg/s1600/WARIF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2-ndkqXG4RNvG9SA0ZB1fGxnWmA4AJUCwU_NQG963Vnz_bdR5-DHHR315_O0vM7b_JGqWYI2SuJ5za2zT3TZxGjYwnCWli8XeLzE5Kwa7UamhO5f_8a0HfyGJ783qrNqKY5TqfCtHgHg/s320/WARIF.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">see: WARIF NG @WARIF_NG</td></tr>
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Another group that caught my attention was WARIF Nigeria (<a class="account-group js-account-group js-action-profile js-user-profile-link js-nav" data-user-id="794535848742162432" href="https://twitter.com/WARIF_NG" style="color: #8899a6; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: none;"><strong class="fullname js-action-profile-name show-popup-with-id" data-aria-label-part="" style="color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: none;">WARIF NG</strong><span style="color: #8899a6; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"> </span></span><span class="username js-action-profile-name" data-aria-label-part="" style="color: #8899a6; direction: ltr; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-decoration: none; unicode-bidi: embed;"><span style="color: #b1bbc3;">@</span>WARIF_NG</span></a>), they took it a step further by creating a help line that victims or people that see anyone suffering can call. </div>
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What I learned while researching to write "Wanda's Tale" is that, we are daily surrounded by people suffering in silence and we ought not encourage the culture of silence by keeping quiet. SPEAK UP or at least call the help lines 😀😀</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9IJgOgHRkuKM3sI_A8PDV8z88foTDBGavBfcJzkHjyPuLYrtkVMmoHBi1qWoncBA0DfAbb9FmZmKJES5-s-lGB7Us23BXd28R8o6P7wzdgOK1Al3Tnp5Ikp-J030Xev9OB1ZlAC5ZY6A/s1600/warif1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9IJgOgHRkuKM3sI_A8PDV8z88foTDBGavBfcJzkHjyPuLYrtkVMmoHBi1qWoncBA0DfAbb9FmZmKJES5-s-lGB7Us23BXd28R8o6P7wzdgOK1Al3Tnp5Ikp-J030Xev9OB1ZlAC5ZY6A/s320/warif1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/NomeansNo?src=hash" style="color: #0084b4; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#NomeansNo</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/WarifWomen?src=hash" style="color: #0084b4; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;">#WarifWomen</a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-expanded-url="https://www.instagram.com/p/BQnZcwHjnck/" dir="ltr" href="https://t.co/fbFV4MOnq2" rel="nofollow noopener" style="color: #0084b4; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank" title="https://www.instagram.com/p/BQnZcwHjnck/"><span class="tco-ellipsis"></span><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;">https://www.</span><span class="js-display-url">instagram.com/p/BQnZcwHjnck/</span><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"></span><span class="tco-ellipsis"><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"> </span></span></a></span></td></tr>
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You could be saving a life, help break the cycle and culture of silence.<br />
Domestic violence is not normal and should not be condoned, tolerated or encouraged...<br />
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I join these organisations and many others our there championing the fight against domestic violence to say NO to domestic violence.<br />
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-33074309072166488192017-02-20T06:16:00.003-08:002017-02-20T06:16:43.625-08:00"Wanda's Tale" by Ritkatmwa Gwan Episode 10<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Family interventions. </div>
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“What kind of allergy is this that I know nothing about, Wanda, you were born before my eyes, I’ve watched you grow and I never knew you or your sisters to have allergies”, tell me the truth, Jude hit you, he has been hitting you”…Wanda couldn’t remember if it was the worry in anty Billy’s eyes or the fact that she was crying that got to her but she was almost convinced…”aunty it was a mistake, ba halin shi ba (it’s not in his character)” the sobbing continued,she spoke in hausa when she wanted to appeal to aunty Billy’s motherly side…. it felt strange watching this woman she knew to be a master of her emotions cry. </div>
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Florence and Offy’s wedding was that weekend and she had clearly said she wanted her in top shape and form for the wedding…It was going to be an evening wedding she wanted it out doors but Offy’s Nigerian mother insisted they wed at the cathedral he was baptised that would have meant the wedding happening </div>
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in Calabar…thank goodness Offy listened to her and everyone settled for a church wedding in Abuja. Florence had met Offy on one of her many globe trotting episodes three years ago, Bidemi had convinced her to go on a tour bus to Ghana when the tour bus stopped just outside of Lagos, the other bus with “Generation 42” boldly inscribed had a flat and they needed to wait because they were part of the tour… Was it the creasing of his shirt or the fact that he wore a well-ironed shirt on a tour bus that aroused her curiosity…Bidemi was trying to get Zach out of the bus so her attention wasn’t on the guy. Her glasses weren’t as dark as she thought and his gaze quickly caught hers. He wasn’t her type of guy so she didn’t bother. She was ready to attack the cliche move he would chose and disarm him immediately… his outstretched hand was a shock, “ I’m Offiong, my friends call me Offy” ..trying to maintain her cool she simply replied “Florence, just Florence”… That week in Ghana was a good time getting to know each other and even Bidemi was surprised Flo was taking a liking to this guy.. they became inseparable and yahoo messenger became a lot more interesting she always had something to look forward to at the end of the day, calls weren’t cheap so they spaced it and it was always soothing hearing his baritone voice on the other end of the line.. </div>
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Offy was about FLo’s height a little darker than what she’d normally go for but he was focused and driven, his days as a graphic designer would soon begin to pay off with the face of media changing, so when he prepositioned her for a relationship it was dramatic; she could only then imagine what a marriage proposal from him would look like. 18 months later on another tour, this time to Kenya, Offy proposed on the flight and trust me it was pretty dramatic. </div>
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…Jude had mustered what courage or arrogance was left in him boarding the vehicle to Wuse 2, it was a bad idea but he knew he had to see Wanda, he needed to apologise and he was expected to be at the wedding, Offy had made him an honorary grooms man even though it was apparent they didn’t get along, Wanda was chief bridesmaid so it was only polite to have Jude on the train…as the driver navigated Aminu Kano crescent he rehearsed his story (hoping it would match whatever aunty Billy was told).. </div>
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At the white gate he caught his breath and knocked </div>
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“na who?” Austin’s familiar voice was reassuring..”ehn, na Wanda friend..ehn Jude” “Ju— wetin?” Austin quickly opened the gate knowing his orders..”abeg dey go, oga Jude….madam don warn me say if she see you inside this house na my work”. “please..I just want to see Wanda….ok how is she? is she in? has she been out? I mean, have you seen her?” almost pushing him out of the way with his index finger pointing at Jude….”which Jamb question you dey ask person? abeg I no know….Mr man leave here oh” (pulling his ear as if to drive home his point. the gate was slammed shut and Jude knew he had some work to do….. his phone rang it was Offy “guy where are you, the suits are ready and everyone looks great, you said you were 5minutes away” a quick look at his watched Jude motioned to Austin ‘I’ll be back”…he had a plan and it better work!</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-6066577198537651252017-02-16T04:15:00.000-08:002017-02-16T04:18:19.209-08:00"Wanda's Tale" by Ritkatmwa Gwan Episode 9<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The endurance period…</div>
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The slap threw her across the room, she knew what was coming and braced herself. Each time he got angry even before the beating she would imagine the feel of his fist or foot to her rib, the taste of blood in her mouth the chock of tears in her throat and the quiet place she went to in her head…</div>
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Wanda had become obsessed with Jude,it was as though she enjoyed these episodes.</div>
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…the black eye from last week’s beating had only just faded and aunty Billy wasn’t buying the story she was selling…she did a poor job at covering it, if only her make up skills were better. “Wanda, if that useless boy is hitting you just tell me, kin ji ko(do you hear me?). </div>
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The last thing on her mind was getting anty Billiy and her goons involved, Jude would kill her(maybe literarily kill her). “No ma, we’re fine, I slipped in the tub” “Tub? Wanda, bath tub ko? hmmmm suit yourself, don’t say I didn’t try to warn you, that boy is bad news”. She had heard this often it started sounding like a broken record. </div>
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"Each week its something else, sweetheart you aren’t that clumsy and if you keep tripping then something is wrong." </div>
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A few days later she was back to him.</div>
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Like she always did when he was in a “mood”, Wanda mentally led herself to happy times and the kicks and blows felt distant. </div>
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His loud sobbing jolted her, apparently she had fainted…waking up with her faced cupped in his hands felt strangely nice, at least he felt bad.</div>
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“my Love, can you hear me…I,I,I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to do this… damn me” his stammering voice was clearing and he wanted to sound more assertive… “I promise this is the last time I ever lay my hands on you…Please don’t leave me, I’d die if you do”… Wanda was too weak to respond but from the look in her eyes he knew she would stay. </div>
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She got in before aunty Billy and avoided any confrontation. She had taken pain killers and dozed off…11:25PM…the loud chatter from the living room reawakened the thumping in her head, that headache just wouldn’t go away, “or do I have a concussion?” “ah, God forbid, I am fine”.. Aunty Billy was in one of her moods, the cheerful kind caused from taking a little over her threshold of alcohol… and a voice that sounded like Uncle Tam’s could also be heard… “Was he here? did aunty let him into her life again, after what he did to me?” All that however seemed like a distant worry, her throbbing headache was her main concern. </div>
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When Wanda was posted to serve in Abuja her excitement was to the roof so during one of her arguments with aunty she let it slip…it came out amid tears but she said it, ”why do you bother advising me about Jude aunty when you allow Uncle Tam walk in and out on you….”young girl that’s none of your…”my business? yes it is aunty,….he raped me, he forced himself, he damaged me, he raped me…..” there was silence and aunty Billy was probably trying to process but hot tears streamed down her cheeks.” She flashed back to all the times they had fought and the accusations from two of her catering staff whom claimed he molested them…so this was all true. “If I didn’t ignore it when he did it to the cooks he wouldn’t have gotten to you".. The two wept and talked for hours, in the end the Police was to be left out of it because they knew it would go no where.</div>
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Her service year seemed like a life time, she was excited to be in Abuja and since Jude had settled here after his National Youth Service Corps in Bayelsa it was the right city to start a family. </div>
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Was she really considering going ahead with wedding plans? all the odds seemed staked against her, but “maybe Jude would change once we are married, I mean he wouldn’t hit his own “WIFE”…I’d be a wife then so everything would be different”.</div>
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1:08AM, her wondering thoughts had kept her awake, plus she had to explain the swollen jaw to anty Billy in the morning…</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-79309112126172074012017-02-13T03:58:00.001-08:002017-02-13T03:58:14.632-08:00Wanda's tale by Ritkatmwa Gwan Episode 8<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The engagement: did Love win? </div>
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Since Jude decided Wanda was what he wanted, he felt the need to keep her at all cost. The red flags kept popping up but Wanda ignored them, she had become one of those girls who didn’t read the signs but believed love covers a multitude… She had now lost all male friends and acquaintances, even females had to pass his test to remain her friends, how Oiza survived this is still a surprise seeing that Jude hated her guts. </div>
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It was several months into the relationship that she experienced one of his out bursts… Nicolas was one of those guys everyone in class loved, he was smart, witty and had just been made class rep, Wanda and Oiza didn’t need to suck up to him cos he had his eye on Oiza so they exploited the opportunity… </div>
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Jude had just walked past the cafeteria by the library and heard her giggle “only she laughs this way” what was she doing here? He didn’t need an explanation neither did she have one, he grabbed her hand that grip was so tight a slap would have been better…</div>
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”Jude you’re hurting me…we’re in public” Nicolas was more confused than embarrassed; his mistake was making the effort to stop them, he was shoved hard and he fell to the chair the small crowd that gathered quickly broke it off and just then Oiza showed up and saved the day…. can anyone explain what just happened? Nic was still speechless and Wanda was full of apologies…that evening she would receive the beating of her life, if only she had avoided Jude as Oiza advised. </div>
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she needed to justify her action or inaction, whatever it was; “I mean look at Gladys and Mofe, their somewhat toxic relationship had blossomed into a budding romance, the kind Nollywood movies were made of”…she wanted that for Jude and her. And for a while it seemed she got her fairy tale, the happily ever after was now in sight they had survived one year, they were in love. She had hidden several other incidents from her friend; like Jude would say, ‘She doesn’t need to know everything about our business” He always apologised anyway; cos he loved her (so she thought) “Is it rape when he is your boyfriend?” she had questioned herself countless times even second guess herself, “Jude was just a passionate lover, I need to relax” even she knew those words weren’t convincing, “thank God Oiza doesn’t know about this”.</div>
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Months of several altercations , squabbles and fights would pass, each time Oiza hoped it would be the last but like metal drawn to magnet Jude and Wanda found a way to make up…</div>
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This guy has got moves….a giggling Wanda told Oiza…The glittering ring on her middle finger was getting all the attention and as much as Oiza wanted to be happy she knew this was a mistake.. “ Girl you mean you said YES?, you agreed to marry him?”…her stammering lips blurted out.. “bu…but you’re just in your 2nd year? what happens when he finds another girl during NYSC? what about the beatings?” “have you thought that maybe he just did this ti keep you because he is graduating…?”</div>
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Oiza had switched to mother-hen mode and there was no stopping but Wanda wasn’t having it…”babe, at least you can pretend to be happy me”.. </div>
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“ Wanda you want the truth?” she paused as if awaiting a response then continued… “I’m scared for your safety, I’m worried, not happy, I mean its Jude we are talking about” Knowing what her friend was getting at which would awaken old hurt she quickly wrapped up the conversation.. “we love each other and that’s final, by the way we’re not getting married until my final year or after NYSC…. be happy for me, pleeeaasseeee!!! Jude is different now, I promise; he has changed” Wanda thought if she said it long enough it would be true. She needed to say it to convince herself. Both girls hug but it was clear the worry had not disappeared. </div>
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Not that she was comparing but, she was beginning to see a bit of Anty Billy and Uncle Tam’s traits in Jude and her. </div>
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She was in a toxic relationship and she knew it. </div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-64694243979392368572017-02-09T03:12:00.001-08:002017-02-09T03:12:28.536-08:00Wanda's tale by Ritkatmwa Gwan. Episode 7<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Uncle Tam takes her.</div>
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Remember aunty Billy?, she’s mummy’s younger sister and as they say, “a woman of the world”. Her bouts with various men had lead her to Mr Tamandu, that’s Uncle Tamandu to Wanda and her sisters, they never caught his surname and honestly didn’t care to know. </div>
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Their on and off relationship of over 15 years hadn’t provided an offspring (not that anty Billy wanted a child to tie her down) and he was the least bit worried because he had an array of baby mama’s; three to be precise but these two always found a way back to each other. They would fight dangerously, love passionately and almost kill each other in-between, but I guess it worked for them”. </div>
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Because he had always been known to the family, he was trusted around the girls (Florence,Wanda and Charis). </div>
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Wanda was in SS 1 and that long vacation seemed like an opportunity to visit Abuja, the city was still developing and it was always fun holidaying at aunty Billy’s. The girls ate what they wanted, when they wanted and what quantity; mum felt like a kill-joy with her principles and rules. The girls often heard her and aunty quarrel about spoiling them, and how she couldn’t understand being childless and all.</div>
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Wanda’s older sister Florence was in SS3 and had friends who lived in Abuja so the entire holiday was spent visiting one friend or the other, Charis (the younger of the three) on the other hand was a “follow-follow” she tagged along, Wanda the loner and introvert decided being indoors was good enough. </div>
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Florence and Charis had mapped their paroles (as they like to call it) and tried to convince Wanda it will be worth her while, “You need to drop these novels and live a little” Flo knew she was a beautiful girl and had the trail of boys to prove it…she was also a tough nut to crack but she loved and cared for her sisters. “Wanda, just this once come have fun with my friends and I, just before you say you don’t know anyone, Charis will be there”… the smiles didn’t convince her. that week she had rented three novels and needed to return them, the guy that like her was no longer at the rental store and that new girl was mean so; “no I have reading to catch up on, I’ll join you tomorrow” if she knew the events of the next hour would change her life forever, Wanda would have made that outing. </div>
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It wasn’t clear what line of work Uncle Tam was in, but he always had meetings, the land-line was always engaged while he was around and the smell of stale cigarette (benson and hedges) and gin filled the air; if you saw him take a whiff you’d want to smoke. He hardly ate, even if he did, he just picked at the food till it was too cold to eat. He would playfully tap the girls’ buttocks as they walked passed him and no one thought much of it Flo and Charis we off and he had the house all to himself.</div>
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The new Joe CD Wanda was listening to had taken her entire attention, earphones plugged in and Disc-man in hand, she was going about her chores not knowing Uncle Tam’s wondering eyes were prying….</div>
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It happened so fast she could hardly retell it, sometimes she even asked herself if she only just imagined it…. As she walked into the room to pick the laundry pile aunty had left her she felt his cold hands grab her, that familiar smell of stale cigarette and gin almost drowned her; her screams were muffled, his large hand ensured she could barely breath, she knew this wasn’t happening, no screams, no fighting, she was defeated, she was damaged…as he had his way with her, the tears trickling down her face all she could hear was the soothing voice of Joe playing in her head, “I wanna know” was just released the year before and Wanda would come to hate that song. </div>
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After what seemed like a life time, it was over and he was out….</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-86343914615276467322017-02-07T03:54:00.000-08:002017-02-07T03:54:52.996-08:00#forTheLoveofTravel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Travel far or near...just Travel.<br />
2017 is the year I told myself will include travel. As I planned for the year the thought of exchange rates, visa's or even getting a break all formed part of my concerns but I decided on a first step: travel near.<br />
I will be traveling to some states and sights in Nigeria (some I have been to some will be a first). As I explore new adventures in familiar and unfamiliar places I will share my journey and maybe inspire you to travel.<br />
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-85266943197992828702017-02-06T04:56:00.000-08:002017-02-06T04:56:05.360-08:00Wanda’s tale by Ritkatmwa Gwan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"Body Image" Episode 6</div>
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The events of a few years ago had defined the young woman Wanda had become. </div>
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These weren’t exciting days, Anty Billy, Mummy’s sister was back and she wasn’t a fan of Wanda’s; in her eyes Wanda was the ‘ugly duckling’. Their conversations never ended well, there was always a sour taste in her mouth afterwards.</div>
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“ My dear, how are you? so you’re now entering University, you’re all grown up” “yes ma” was all Wanda could say and a quiet “thank you ma” followed. Wanda always wondered why aunty Bilkis had so much power over her…</div>
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This woman in her mid…”wait Oh is anty Billy in her 40’s or 50’s” well it all didn’t matter because she was “self-made” as she liked to call it, slim and light complexioned you’d think she had albinism I mean the years of “Tura” had paid off except for the not so light knuckles… “Did I mention she was single and loving every moment of it”</div>
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“Wanda, you need to loose weight, how will you get the boys with all this…?” Mind you this was the year 2000 and there was a craze for being slim. “yes ma”…</div>
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Wanda had two sisters, both slim, light complexioned like mumsy and they were tall for her standard. “you’re a pretty girl but you need to be slimmer, boys don’t like fat girls, stop eating everything put in your path”..”so she was still talking?” her thoughts were always lost with anty Billy. She hated being at anty Billy’s, the countless men, the loud parties, the “meetings” it was all too worrying. “If dad were alive all this wouldn’t be happening to me”. She needed to mount courage to call mummy’s bluff, she needed to say what was wrong. </div>
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This was her first time back in almost 4 years, she had always made excuses to avoid coming back and daddy gladly supported her, now she had to face her demons; Uncle Tam was one of them. The girl’s father had died only recently, she was heart broken he wouldn’t get to walk her down the aisle, she knew she was his favourite (at least she looked exactly like him if that was any consolation) she wanted to pursue Public Health like him, but it didn’t seem feasible now. </div>
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Jolting her back to reality was an all so familiar voice, “Wanda Wanda, kin yi girma” (you are all grown) Uncle Tamandu liked speaking hausa even though he knew they couldn’t speak it well enough. Her fear was becoming evident (at least she taught it was) and it became all so clear she wasn’t quite ready to face the demons, at least not today… </div>
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Was she angry? afraid? she seemed more confused. With the corner of her eye she caught Charis chating away with him…How can everyone be so clueless, this man was slime, no the thing under slime, no, the thing that grows under the thing under slime…Arghhhrrr, “count to 10 Wanda, count, she told herself…it was a technique she saw in a movie..”1, 2, 3, ….5, 6..” it seemed to work but rather than calm down just then a nauseating feeling overtook her and she needed to get out of there. </div>
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“what was he doing here?”</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-37804389779617196632017-02-02T04:26:00.000-08:002017-02-02T04:26:20.607-08:00Wanda's tale by Ritkatmwa Gwan Episode 5<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Awkwardness!!</div>
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“Wanda, Wanda, Wanda” her silence echoed…</div>
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Back to reality: </div>
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The next few days were pretty weird…One would think after the kiss/peck, whatever it was, this two shared a whirlwind romance would have commenced, NO!… Wanda had mastered a plan and it was working at least for the time being. </div>
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I mean it was barely a peck on the lips….why make so much of a small thing….</div>
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Jude was more frustrated it was the forth day after ‘the incident’ and he hadn’t seen her at the department, even Oiza was now avoiding him. </div>
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He was in luck… “Oiza!!..” Jude knew she could hear him, he took three strides and caught her arm, “ are you avoiding me?” “Me? why, you?” her obvious confusion was all the response he needed, “where is she? is she ok, has she been avoiding me and in the process missing classes?”</div>
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she didn’t have time to answer because he kept his interrogation going.. You see, these two could barely tolerate each other with Wanda around and his patient was always thin with her..he had to make a tight fist pressing his nails hard into his plam to stop himself, it was the same everytime and who is not to say she was feeding Wanda some holier than thou nonsense that’s why she’s avoiding him….. </div>
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Oiza cut in like the sassy one she was “ah, Jude calm down. “Yes, yes and No” </div>
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He was puzzled and very sure she would get what she deserved soon.. “what do you mean yes, yes and no?” knowing Oiza he was ready to take whatever sassiness that came with her today. “you asked I answered”… th frown lines on his forehead was no cosmetic…he was working up a storm…</div>
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“ok so Wanda is avoiding me, she is fine and isn’t missing lectures?” She gave him a plastic smile (the kind you fake when trying to get out of an awkward situation) “something like that, see you’re smart after all” In another scenario a slap would have followed her loud mouth, did she know who he was, he knew if he gave her the slap he was preparing it might ruin all chances with Wanda…”patience,patience” he told himself…”so where is she,I need to see her, we need to talk?”…</div>
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Oiza wasn’t strong armed by Jude, she didn’t even like the guy but he had these eyes that pierced and she was genuinely scared what he might do to her had she refused. “yes he was light skinned, looked sharp and had a suave to him… but he had these eyes that weren’t blue but had a certain hue only someone of mixed race or albinism could have..they were beautiful eyes oh (even she could see that) but even the devil appears as an angel of light and this devil, Oiza did not trust. She knew encouraging this budding romance was bad but Wanda had the deciding to do.</div>
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Her little bubble was busted…“Wanda!” “before you run off, don’t blame Oiza, I literarily dragged her here, well, something close to that” </div>
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She was lost in the stare of his eyes, there was a twinkle to it at a certain angle from the light…his eyes were teary but not that he was tearing up, he was just perfect there was a hint of silent rage but she didn’t notice that… He was still asking himself why this girl had such a hold on Him…. Maybe it was her resemblance to Vickky that intrigued him but was this a good thing? </div>
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“What say you Wanda?” she didn’t hear anything he had said but she nodded anyway and the broad smile on his face only meant one thing, they were officially a couple…</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-34982026043964521592017-01-30T10:23:00.000-08:002017-01-30T10:24:06.566-08:00Stepping into deep waters.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
By now it's no surprise to many that I doodle and like to write, for those who are just finding this out, follow "Wanda's Tale" my ongoing series (we're in Episode 4 already so you have some reading up to do) Twitter <a class="DashboardProfileCard-screennameLink u-linkComplex u-linkClean" href="https://twitter.com/Ritgwan" rel="noopener" style="color: #66757f; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding-right: 5px; text-decoration: none !important;"><span style="color: #66757f; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding-right: 5px; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: 12px; padding-right: 5px;">@</span></span><span class="u-linkComplex-target" style="color: #66757f; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding-right: 5px; text-decoration: none;">Ritgwan</span></a>Facebook, <span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px;">facebook.com/</span><span class="timelineUsername fwb" style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px;">Ritz.Gwan </span><br />
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Monday's and Thursday's are now dedicated to creative writing...the stories, tales and doodles (😀)<br />
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From the month of February I will be introducing "For the Love of Travel" where I will continue to write about my love for traveling until I begin to travel and document those adventures (😀), this will be Tuesday's and Fridays.<br />
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I reserved Wednesday's for a special project, "Living your best life" is something I started in 2014 but dropped along the way, now it's back and better...This captures mostly pointers to living an abundant life, the voicing promises to be as interesting and as creative as possible, some of you will be conscripted to share with me some tips to living an abundant life...<br />
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2017 is the year of stepping out.... January was a blast. Thank you for encouraging me through "Wanda's Tale" as the story unfolds I assure you, it is only the beginning of great things this year.....<br />
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By late February another series "WIFE MATERIAL" will premiere, you don't want to miss this.<br />
Cheers to an exciting 2017..<br />
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-36807265916863952092017-01-30T05:06:00.003-08:002017-01-30T05:06:34.498-08:00Wanda's Tale Episode 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A Friendship is born?</div>
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Jude had two carryover courses and unlike before, he now had reason to attend the lectures more frequently, Wanda had become his new obsession and the two had become somewhat comfortable and a harmless visit to room C-14 didn’t look like a bad idea. </div>
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Oiza in her usual fashion had reservations…”Wanda you know what they say about C block boys; don’t say I didn’t warn you”..A puzzled Wanda had stumbled on some Maya Angelou literature recently and she felt the need to express herself…”Babe, why box the guy in a stereotypical description…because he stays on a block doesn’t make him akin to the behavioural pattern dominant there”…All this English, Wanda, don’t say I didn’t warn you sha”. </div>
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“it seems you don’t have friends?” Wanda’s question seemed like a concern even though she tried to coat it.. This had “RED FLAG” written all over it but the butterflies in her stomach didn’t leave much room for thoughts.</div>
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“I like my sanity”; “trust me I’ve had friends on this campus and in three years none has proven worthy”.. “your royal majesty or should I say your royal flyness” both caught a laugh and Jude took the opportunity to cup a feel of her breast. </div>
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“AH!!!” “please, I’m not that kind of..” he didn’t even let her finish “I’m sorry, I slipped, I ehmmmm, I’m sorry”. Now they could barely make eye contact and the tiny room felt more like a cubicle, she was running out of breath.. “ I have to go”. The C-block stereotype wasn’t a lie after all… </div>
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“but I said I was sorry, I really am” Wanda was already on her feet and in all honesty she didn’t mind that he had felt her up she just didn’t want to appear easy. Since she started it, she intended to continue with the charade until she knew for sure who this guy truly was.</div>
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Few weeks ago Jude was a figure in the University census as far as she was concerned; now, he intrigued her and his mystic appearance didn’t make it easy. Even he knew he was a catch but what was it to him? Wanda knew there was more and she was keen on finding out. She quietly had a thing for ‘bad boys”, now that Jude was looking like one, he seemed all the more her type…..hmmmmmm</div>
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“ I’ll walk you out then, I apologise I didn’t mean to embarrass you or make you uncomfortable”</div>
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now Wanda was feeling bad and in her head she thought “…me sef, and this guy is a gentleman oh..” as if reading her mind he says “ I insist you go and return whenever you feel comfortable, even I am embarrassed now.” Jude knew he was putting up an act; in another place and time things would be happening, no talking involved…</div>
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It was a quiet walk to her hostel and since men weren’t allowed in he knew he had to say something before she disappeared into the night and possibly never speak to him again…just as the noise of the busy commercial area was drowning out he moved closer, leaned in as if to say “good…” the night was muffled in the kiss she gave him, “hmmmm” before he could respond or even get it through his head what just happened, she had slipped through the gate… </div>
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There were no mobile phones then so he knew it would be a long night… </div>
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A shaking Wanda walked briskly “What did I just do?!! what are we now?” her walk was in a bid to avoid the scorpions that could be lurking in the dark and trying to get further away from what she had just done… </div>
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Had Wanda awoken a sleeping dog?</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-76021076835111523352017-01-26T07:03:00.003-08:002017-02-16T03:09:26.482-08:00"Wanda's Tale" by Ritkatmwa Gwan Episode 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Wanda meets Jude:<br />It was a hot Wednesday afternoon and the scotching sun on campus seemed hotter than usual. Wanda made her way through OAU walk, she had just 5minutes to the start of lectures and she didn’t want to sit outside. Professor Koroma would let you sit in the scotching Northeastern Sun if you were five minutes late to his class….not to mention the Maiduguri flies that seemed high on steroids.<br /><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">She could tell someone was trying to get her attention but she was the least bit bothered.</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">“These guys don’t know when to toast girl abi”…the sweat trickling down her back wasn’t the only thought running through her head, her misplaced face towel was competing for her thoughts …</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">“ excuse me, hi” Wanda’s patience was thin at the point and without a second glance at whoever it was she blurted out her repugnance…</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">“ahh, what is it, can’t you see I’m late for a lecture? please, I don’t have time for this” and walked off.</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">He looked at the purple face towel in his hand and walked quietly behind her. He knew he had seen her before…trust me, this wasn’t a cliche move he knew she needed the towel.</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">Just as Wanda was beginning to enjoy the coolness of the barely functioning fan in the lecture theatre Cynthia passed her face towel, “that guy said I should give this to you”… Her flushed face did no help masking her embarrassment.</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">She quickly looked away and the lecture seemed like an eternity…she would almost forget he was there but each time she tried to steal a glance, their eyes met; those eyes…. “what is this?” He looked too good to be trying for her attention...</span>With Prof out of the way, she knew he would walk up to her, what would she say…before she had a chance to gather her thoughts he was a few feet from her desk, his perfume had a soft smell of talc almost like a baby smell to it…his presence was over powering..."is he that tall or it's cos I'm sitting?"<br />“I’m sorry about earlier, I,I,I…” her stutter was more embarrassing…<br />, “it’s fine, you wouldn’t have known I had the face towel, it’s OK…”<br />with an almost convincing gentlemanly demeanour he stretched out his hand for a handshake and Wanda was awed by his smile.<br />“I’m Jude”……” ammm, I mean, I’m Wanda”.<br />Her heart rate was accelerated, the sweating had returned….why did one hand shake have so much effect on her?!<br />Watch out for Episode 4 next Monday... feel free to Comment, like and share...</h2>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-72835422721823771452017-01-23T01:56:00.004-08:002017-01-23T01:56:53.569-08:00Episode 2 "Wanda's Tale" by Ritkatmwa Gwan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Episode 2</div>
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The night was hot, a constant reminder of the scorching Abuja heat but PHCN had struck and trying to pacify two angry toddlers in these conditions wasn’t easy; Jude didn’t seem to care, she didn’t want him agitated either. </div>
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The neighbors’ son had been frantic and his wails could be heard a block away. Jayden was teething and Wanda in normal fashion had offered “unsolicited advice, but it seemed Bonnie didn’t heed.</div>
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The sleeping beast didn’t need any agitation, he was troubled..was he having a mid-life crisis? she didn’t seem to understand what it was with her husband..</div>
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“why would I call my wife in my own house and she won’t respond? “Wanda?, woman where are you?…she almost slipped trying to get to the sitting room; </div>
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are you stupid? she looked puzzled, did he want an answer? “hon, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you call, I was trying to put the kids down for a nap…” “so I’m now lying” she knew better not to pick an argument but he had been edgy since his return from work. She was still limping and nursing her dislocated rib from last week’s beating, another would probably leave her hospitalized. </div>
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Before she could muster the words ‘I’m Sorry’ his punch hit her so hard she was thrown off balance. It was now her cries for help and pleas to her attacker, her lover, father of her children that filled the air. The neighbors were more angry than sorry, they needed the peace and quite… so, no one came, no one , even Bonnie was tired and Jayden’s teething didn’t leave any room for sympathy. As her cries faded so did her breath… The neighbours were getting frustrated but when the sobbing ended everyone thought; “peace at last”…“finally some peace and quiet…now we can sleep”</div>
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-- The shrill cry from Wanda’s house pierced the early dawn, “not again” the neighbours taught it was too early to start. As Bonnie rolled over to pick a cranky Jayden her eye caught the night stand clock it was 4:25AM…”what could Wanda and Jude be up to this early?” </div>
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In another 8 days, her thought in this exact moment would race through her mind standing by the coffin like some dejavu… </div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1914486873888157771.post-59987506117385912852017-01-19T04:54:00.000-08:002017-01-19T04:54:13.307-08:00"WANDA’S TALE" BY Ritkatmwa Gwan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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EPISODE 1<br /> Wanda was young
and by many standards beautiful. She was swept off her feet in her 200
level, contrary to her terms she agreed to a whirlwind romance. <br /> The proposal was wonderful, fit for a movie scene. Then she said yes. <span class="text_exposed_show"><br />
It was the first day of camp and the stress of wedding plans weighed
heavy on her mind. A month later the wedding done and NYSC underway,
life was sweet. The slap that hit her cheek wasn’t expected; it’s force
pushing her to the ground...I thought he was different now? </span><br />
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Her sobs were silent but the stream of tears poured freely… He would later apologize and tag it "an act of the devil". <br />
Months passed: ---Baby in hand and loads of chores to do Wanda ponders
what it’ll be like keeping a job; a dream she can’t pursue, her first
class certificate lay securely in the bottom of her Echolac box. <br />
‘’hon, don’t you think I should get a job’’ the awkward silence
stretched…she feared the beast had been angered by her question; “I
could help with up keep” it was the sound of shattering glass that
broke her concentration, he had aimed and barely missed her, the
tumbler hitting the wall. That night she learnt suggesting help was an
insult; after all he was the man. <br /> The news of her second pregnancy
came with mixed feelings, friends and family had a glossary of advise
“why can’t you leave him, he’ll kill you, what kind of love is this?”
Oh! She wished she could provide answers to these questions she had
often asked herself. “He loves me, I know he does, he’s just frustrated”
“you know a woman is the one that makes the home, just stay and make it
work”. <br /> Was it all her fault, had she brought the emotional and physical pains to herself? Did she deserve it all? <br />
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The story continues...Episode 2 next week Monday...</div>
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Ritztruebeautyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15343360022731224251noreply@blogger.com0