Born and bred in the West, even my looks couldn't hide my ivory bloodline. I had no accents to betray me whatsoever; my home was home, house- house and neither did my exclamations come in the form of Ha! Or Mogbe! And that is one of the reasons why I love you and would never leave you! Amaka had said to me, with her beautiful smile stretching from ear to ear.
Yes! Again, I must remind you... I am a complete African man, a yoruba man to be precise but as I watched Amaka sway those hips from the east to the west and my eyes following her every move I realised that 'foreign soup' was sweet, and the delicious nature of same, soon led me into saying I do, with 'Kaka baby' 6 months later.
We soon went overseas an action done to please my newly wed wife and to let my father know that I had now become a man and would be fine on my own. I ditched my African lifestyle almost immediately to obtain citizenship and a permanent stay in a foreign land.
However, the suffering of the first few months reminded me that my father was a real man and with the stronger wave of hardship which came like a pungent smell after the birth of my son Tunji junior, I was forced to join the British Navy.
Every thing I did was for my son and Amaka, and as God willed it, I soon got a better job closer home to my immediate family and grabbed it with open arms. It's been a whole year, and I haven't had the pleasure of being home.
I rushed into the living room as soon as I got home as I gave joyful shouts for my wife to know of my presence, but like Adam and Eve having tasted the forbidden fruit hid from God, Amaka hid from me. Initially I couldn't understand why, not until the innocent infant announced itself with a piercing cry.
That was definitely not my Tunji, as Tunji is supposed to be about a year old by now, and even though the light complexion of the child could have been mistaken as a trait of mine, well, certainly not the blue eyes, there are no 'white walkers' in my family. Yes! There I stood as the realisation of betrayal hit me! As bitter as bile, at the same time as painful as salt on injury.
Well, now imbibing the culture of the white men, I knew better than to hit her or throw her out, instead I vowed neither to speak to her nor to show her any form of affection whatsoever. But soon it became clear that I wasn't the only one "de-africanising" if there is such a term, as a few years later, Amaka sued me to court for neglect.
Her plea was set aside initially as it was not proven that I had condoned her Adultery, but later on it was said that since we had now been married for over 10 years, as that was the age of my son Tunji, it would be regarded by law that I had condoned her Adultery and that the fact that I didn't show affection towards her as a sign that I hadn't forgiven her, and the fact that I only stayed in the marriage for my son was immaterial.
Well, the white man's law had tied us together forever and showed no intention of granting us a divorce, I forgave Amaka especially after seeing how she still took care of my son Tunji.
To cut the long story short, the next year I came back to Nigeria with my 'dear' wife Amaka, but with the first feel of fresh air from my home country, came reason...
Tunji cut my plans short by falling ill, the poor child was said to lack blood and badly needed a blood transfusion and that was where another block buster was revealed! Tunji, my son whom I condoned his mother's Adultery for and whom I had maintained religiously along side his mother, wasn't even mine....
At the realisation of the fact that I had endured the torture of betrayal for donkey years all to no avail, my only response was Ha! Mogbe! And yes like a strong wave of heat it hit me! I was an African man after all, thus I threw Amaka out and asked her to take her two bastard children with her , it hurt for Tunji sake but it wasn't any sorrow I couldn't recover from with time...
As I paced from one end to another in the grand living room of my father's house it hit me once again ceremoniously, like I had been overcome by a stroke and a wide grin soon spread from my cheek warmly from ear to ear, as I figured that the Nigerian measures suited me just fine, I had ended a torturous marriage the African way, and I intended re- marry for the right reasons this time, the African way... All in all, it felt so good to be home and I wasn't so interested in a foreign citizenship anymore, Infact I was home to stay.
Home sweet home... Proudly African...
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