Skip to main content

Dirty Slap

As a young lady, I have always had this strong aversion for men who battered their wives. I know you’ll try to say that this is a general thing, that everyone hates them too. Well, for me it goes way beyond the common hatred. Mine was an unnatural loathing. I don’t know why, perhaps I was beaten to death in my past life. That proposition could be true because I was born with a dark scar across my forehead. So maybe that could explain my contempt for these set of human beings.  It was this weird ideology of mine that landed me into serious kasala one day.

I had just finished secondary school then and I had to live with my grandma in a very remote area in Lagos. There is a saying that a hungry man is an angry man. This was so true because most people who lived around there were mean broke therefore  wives endured frequent beatings from their angry husbands. So, just like you guessed, I hated most of the men that lived around that area. However, there was this particular one that caught my attention. I liked to refer to him as Mr Evil XY chromosome. His wife was usually pregnant every year. They never missed a year of piling up so many unhealthy looking children. They had to be unhealthy as they could barely have reasonable meals each day. That was not my own concern o. I am just telling you that part ni o. My concern was that this man smokes and drinks everyday then comes home to beat his baby making factory. He beats the poor woman so much that every time, the woman had to lie that she had hit her face on the wall. Until one day a neighbor finally had the guts to say “Mama XYZ shey na everyday u dey knack your face for wall?”  You’ll notice I couldn’t say the name of the woman’s child. Hmm by the time I finish my story you will understand why o. Like the Oyinbo people will say, prevention is better than cure.

So, in a nutshell I hated this man. I used to wish that he would die.(Father forgive me for I have sinned. Amen). I never said a word of greeting to him. Ever! Anyways the hatred was mutual because he always had this wicked disposition whenever he saw me. In my mind I would be like, “Ogbeni, who you epp?

That was how that on that fateful day, I was having serious akproko with my friend when Mr Evil XY chromosome walked past. Make I no lie you, I confuse. But what he said afterwards was that I had stepped on him. Hmm blood of Zechariah! It felt like the sun did a catwalk across my face. The slap had resonating effects that lingered in my ears for several seconds. While I was still recovering from the sting of the slap, with my other clear eye I noticed Mr Evil XY chromosome was preparing to download me several series of slaps.

As humans, there are several unharnessed inherent talents that we possess and because of their obscurity, we ignore them. So they just lie in us dormant. Most people discover theirs later in life or in the face of challenging situations. Worst still most people die with theirs never knowing and never using them. That day I discovered that I was such a fantastic runner. I ran like a thief, faster than a flash even Usain Bolt must have felt intimidated. Before one could say, God-punish-devil I was already miles away from my assailant.

It was this memory that popped up in my head as I sat listening to the woman with a swollen lip and a half shut eye who narrated her ordeals to me at my station. With the memory of that dirty, rather dangerous slap, I knew exactly how to with that case of domestic violence now that I was in the police force.

Have a positive day.
Love you loads


Popular posts from this blog

13 Ways To style A Kimono Jacket

Hello fashionistas,

Looking for a way to pep your dress sense? Are you tired of the jean and top routine? Well, I think I can help ya. Okay. I know you're glad. Yes, you can thank me later.

My Father!

So, guys it's official. I'm back! Yippee!

 After the too long hiatus, I'm finally back. It wasn't an intentional break though but let's just thank God I'm back. I promise to keep you glued, educated and informed like I used to .

 So I'm starting a series called, My Father. It entails most of my childhood experiences centred around my father.
There's no better way to get over a memory than laughing over it.
So join me as I laugh over pain, laugh at the sorrows and make good comedy out of it.
Growing up has a way of bringing so many nostalgic thoughts to a person. You see, time actually does a lot in lightening up things.

Situations that seemed so gargantuan could easily be eased by the cooling balm of time. So, this is one of those thoughts.

My father and I used to live together. I had a step sibling who was a baby about this time. You know, I remember my dad taking me out on my birthday, buying me nice stuffs and all but I think…

Nigerian Soups :How to Make Ogbono

Hello Gourmets! 

So, Saturdays are for the foodies. I'm glad. I'm so excited. Oh my gosh. I love food. Good food. I love to cook and taste good food. In fact, I  think I should get a job as a food taster. Or...  What do you think? 

Anyways, I have always dreamt of being a chef. Chef Grace? Gracie the chef? Whatever. I'll figure it out later. 

So today, I'm going to be teaching us how to make Ogbono soup. I love the soup even though I'm not Igbo. We call it (Apon) in Yoruba parlance. My grandma thought me this method so be of good cheer, it's going to be delicious. Old women can cook for Africa. 
1 or 2 of Ogbono depending on how much you want it to be
palm oil
Crayfish, blended
Meat or fish or chicken whatever you like
Stock fish 
Fresh pepper blended but not smooth 
Ugwu (pumpkin leaves) 
Pomo (Cow Hyde) 

Clean the stock fish well and boil with seasoning. 
Boil the meat in another pot
When both are ready, remove the meat from the stock and add th…