I Forgot How to Love

Simi’s song “I forgot how to love” constantly reminds me never to change due to bad treatments meted on me.

If not for the Grace of God, my kind of heart, the people who did treat me right, and this song itself, I would have completely forgotten how to love.

I would have forgotten how to accommodate people because of what my Father’s only sister did to me while with her. I don’t eat except her children remained any.

I would have forgotten how to care, because I was not cared for as a child.

I would have forgotten how to give to my partner because those I gave to used it against me, sucked me dry and left me hanging.

I would have forgotten how to cry because I’ve cried so much that I became numb.

I would have forgotten how to feel because all the feelings of empathy I gave to those who needed it were given back to me in pains.

I would have forgotten how to laugh because it was a crime to laugh while growing up. It was disrespectful to be happy. Because “I was too small” to be happy.

I would have forgotten how to be a child because I was forced to grow up at five years and cater for myself from seven.

I would have forgotten how to dance because when I won a dancing competition at my very young age and given gifts, my legs were broken afterwards and I walked with support for months.

I would have forgotten how to play, because playfulness was prohibited. Have you washed the plates” followed the quest to play.

I would have forgotten how to glow because life’s tribulations dulled my brightness.

I would have forgotten how to be kind to strangers because they disgusted my mother.

I would have forgotten how to believe in people because no single person in my family believed in me. Not one!

I would have forgotten how to be strong because I was broken in pieces by those I thought should love me.

I would have forgotten how to love if my father in his short time with me hadn’t strongly instilled love in me.

BUT I DIDN’T! I never allowed any of these to change me totally. It did a little and I took charge again.

If you know me too well, you’ll know I play a lot. I dance a lot. I laugh a lot. I sing a lot even though I don’t have a great voice. If you know me, you’ll always see the child in me. I am 28 but you will never know because I don’t act like one. Show me a little love and I give you my world. But very few people deserve this part of me now. That’s because I’ve given it out so much that it was taken for granted.

Dad, I should be letting you rest but I miss you!!! I just want even the tiniest conscious moment with you.

My God in Heaven, you’ve always given me what I NEED. Things that pertain to life and godliness. Therefore I’m trusting you to give me my Father in my man. Yes, this is me praying on social media. Your word talks about witnesses right? I’ll always try my best to live right by you Lord and I’m so grateful for EVERYTHING you’ve done and will continue to do for me. Do this for me. A man with your wisdom, your sense of humour, your generosity, your love, your patience, your mercy. All these you gave to me Lord, so I’m not asking for something far fetched. I just need to have my father again, but in my husband. I’ll honour him I promise! I can’t have anything less, not when I deserve more.

Thank you Father for all you allowed me go through to prepare me. I’m never going to be fully ready, but I’m trusting that your Holy Spirit is with me every step of the way. Amen

PS: I didn’t intend to post this at first, just edited and did. Now that you’ve read this, learn from this and be kind to humans, especially children. Because the hate you give them may fuck everyone else.

I am Queendalyn.

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Don’t go overboard

We’re all placed on people’s path for different purposes. And when one of such purposes is fulfilled, we should learn to appreciate and move on, not get unnecessarily stuck in that same place just to please someone.

We owe nobody shit!
Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be grateful or hold the good doers in high esteem.

But then, we shouldn’t lose who we are in the process of rendering applause.

Besides, being yourself and not sucking up to them will also help your benefactors, as they still have a lot to learn from you too.

I am Queendalyn.

Today in reverse is a redirection for a better tomorrow|Life Story

People call me a strong person due to all the storms I’ve weathered and still stand. Especially those who know me from my root. But the truth is I’ve not always weathered those storms. I’ve let it drown me most of the times. At so many points, I had wanted to end it all or wished that God just took me away the way He brought me. Many times I became disloyal to God who has always been my solid rock and strength. And at those times, my legs wobble. Not because the rock is shaky, but because my faith in Him was gone. Then again, I think of those who see me as their strength. Those who hold on because I’m doing same. And I also get to understand at my lowest point that there are those who genuinely care about me, wish me well and even look up to me. They know I’m made for the best and they believe so much in me that they can’t stand to see me wither. So they fight with their words and attention at that point just to help me get back on my feet. They pause their own problems just to pull me back to shore. I appreciate you all and I’m still standing strong because of you.

For a few months now, in fact, since February, I’ve been terribly sick. From Ulcer to Anxiety disorder, to Neurological disorder, to running a brain scan and all what not. It’s like my body suddenly became a magnet to all kinds of ailments. It has always been easy for me to survive things life throw at me because I’m at least healthy. But being this sick and almost bedridden for a while changed the cause of everything! I was told to stop writing for a while cos it meant using my brain. I lost all my clients that period because that was the time favour and jobs erupted from all corners. How ironic! My catering job paused for a while too, though I kept advertising and showing off because it’s a dream I can’t let die. I depended on friends for almost everything. Something I’ve never done all my life, until this year. They carried me to the various hospitals, got the drugs, fed and even housed me. Damn! I know they did this from their soul, but I’ve never known how to rely on people. Never! Everything has always been me, myself and God, and wherever the road leads.
Because of the money for the scan, my former classmates from school had to contribute money for me. I fought hard against that and refused to be a charity case. But my friends told me to relax and allow people help me for once. That I can’t always have it all figured out in life. They did and I remain grateful!

My rent expired and I received tons of insults from the caretaker and lawyer that I had to squat with my nurse for a while. I still had access to my house, but I was not mentally ready to live there until I paid or at least got well enough to face them. My landlord finally came for me and it was time to move out. I asked for extension and started marketing my scripts, hoping to get a buyer and redeem myself from the madness. I began thinking of moving to a lower apartment and felt I’d be going back in life if I did. I’ve still not made up my mind on this though cos it’s scary!

Now the thing is that ever since all these were happening, at least ever since I became strong enough to be fully back online, I made a decision to be more open and free. Part of why I created this new account. I felt that having been reserved about the intimate part of my life all these while didn’t pay me much. It just made me feel lonelier and sad most times. Though I wipe them off and plaster a smile.
But since that decision, I started sharing part of my life stories and noticed it helped a lot of people. Most times we tend to hide the struggle because we feel no one is interested in that. So we only showcase the result. Truth is, people need that struggle to help them survive theirs. People want to relate with you during your struggles and have hope that they’re not alone. I began making jokes, connecting wit a lot of you and having fun even while on the hospital bed. Then some of the people who helped me began to doubt that I went through any of these things. Those of them who helped from far and weren’t here with me. They said, how can you be that sick and always online, posting pictures and funny stuffs. They didn’t care if they were old pictures or pictures I took the moment I caught a glimpse of light. They just judged me straight up and withdrew.

It didn’t get to me at all because I wasn’t expecting those helps at the first place. Besides I’ve had worse. My fiancé once broke up with me when I was breathing with oxygen support in the hospital. He was outside the country at the time I fell sick, and because I was always online, he said the picture my brother sent to him of me lying in the hospital was fake and I just wanted to get money from him. He ended the relationship. He did this through a chat, and I nearly died cos the oxygen became ineffective on me. I woke up the next morning with a swollen arm where I was injected to resuscitate me. I paid that bill with my fees and sorted myself out later on.

I don’t blame any of these people because the world is a messed up place. People lie to extort from others, so what makes me different. But what they never understood is that I am DIFFERENT. And I never would have allowed anyone to help me. And that I post or talk the happiest when I’m at my saddest point at times. That the jokes I make and seeing others laugh, smile and interact through it always made me feel better. They never understood that other’s happiness were mine as well and that is how I heal. That someone is constantly online does not make them jobless, useless or liars. Everyone has their medium of dealing with issues and that was mine.

I’m letting you guys in on this as part of my background story, so you wouldn’t have to ask “how did she make it this big?” Because I will. So you’d understand that there’s a process and that no one has it all figured out. We mostly make the plans as we go. I don’t believe in village people doing you anything online cos they can do a lot offline if they choose to. Besides you can’t put down someone that’s already down. I’m a writer and a public speaker and the best way for my voice to be heard are in platforms where people are. So if I keep having “village people” at the back of my head, I won’t eat.

Anyway, to all those who helped me in the times of need, I’m grateful but I won’t live my life to please you because of that. I’ve helped so many people I don’t even know and I have no idea what they do with my help. When you help someone, take your mind off them. If it’s money you gave to them, you shouldn’t monitor how or on what they spend it on, except they’re children. You’ve done your part already.
And I know there are always going to be liars and scammers, but you can’t stop helping people cos of the bad eggs. You just pray and be more careful. Not to talk of someone you do know.

I think there’s probably more to say, but I’m tired. Not from writing, but from thinking how else I can make this world a better and conducive place. How I can change perspective and let people know that good peeps exist and we should give each other a chance. How to make sure there’s no fear of being hurt by your neighbor, that you can be free around people. That you can run your business without fear of demons or witches running it down for you. This world is just too complicated and is definitely not for me. Do you know how my heart breaks on the sight of man’s inhumanity against man? Most times I cry myself to sleep because I’m so angry that there’s still racism and hatred and wickedness and manipulations!!😭😭😭😭😭😭😥😥😥😭😭😭😭😭 Can this world ever be better again?!!! I know I digressed, but it’s just so sad.

I’ll try to live my life as happy as I can. If you choose not to help me when I need one simply because I’m happy, then you’re the demon I should bind. Period! Do something because you sincerely want to do it, not because you want to claim entitlement for it later in the future. And you that is reading this, live your best lives now, not just exist. You’re not assured tomorrow.

I am Queendalyn.

The Struggle|Reality

I know what my cousin goes through during any of his crisis. It was like I was going through those crisis with him. I’ll sit by him at the hospital, hold his hand and tell him he’ll pull through. Every prayer I made for him came from my soul. He’ll always ask me if he’d die at certain age and I’ll reply in the negative. He can fight it, I’ll say. He can pull through and he’ll outlive his peers. Those smiles from the sides of his lips anytime I said these gave me a sense of fulfilment and I’ve always believed he’ll live to continue smiling.

Those days when I was still with him, I’d follow him to the studio. He’s a songwriter and singer. Most times I wrote the songs for him and we’ll save up money for studio sessions. I’d book shows for him in schools, no matter the crowd. I just wanted him to display his talents at any platform he can. I wanted the world to see his greatness and applaud him. I hoped those well wishes will give him a reason to fight this menace. And they did.

Early in the morning, he’ll wake up to another episode of morning wood or Nocturnal Penile Tumescence, also known as Morning erection. The pain he undergoes at this point is usually unbearable even for me. Normally, it should go down after a while, but his wouldn’t. I’m related to him, but I can’t sit and do nothing. I’ll massage him most times for a long while before it goes down. When he had a girlfriend, I’ll call her to rescue. Other times we ended up in the hospital.

No, this is not a sad post. He’s still living. He’s still a sickle cell patient and I will always celebrate him. He has recorded about 10-15 songs so far. He has met great artists, even my favourite, Phyno and would soon be signed to record label. He’s involved in other little businesses here and there and is striving to make a better world for himself and family. He did not allow his condition get the best of him or subject him to depression. Though I’m much older than he is, I look up to him at times. I’m so proud of him and his perseverance. Sweetheart, I know we already spoke today and if you read this, know that I’ll never stop loving and supporting you. You’re the strongest person I know and my shoulders are always leaned forward to you bro. Please keep taking care of yourself.

This is to every sickle cell patient. You’ll be fine. You’ll pull through. You’re loved. And we’re here for you. Then to those in love, who desire to get married. Please there’s a thin line between love and reality. Choose reality. Get yourself tested. Separate on time and do not put yourself and children through this torture. Or you desire to live longer than they will? Nothing should concern an AS with another AS. Or an AS with SS. I’m very sure two SS won’t be that stupid to get married and bring children to this world🙄

It is world Sickle Cell Day. Be aware. Be intentional and do take care of those around you❤

I am Queendalyn.

How much do you allow them influence you? Be your own person. Own your world.

One minute you’re healthy. The next you’re not.
You try to be strong. You’ve always been.
You can pull through you say.
But then, you crash.
You’re at the hospital. Injections pierce through your thigh this time.
You feel better. In the night, it creeps in again.
You refuse to panic. You’ll be fine you say.
You’ve survived worse after all.

Its the mosquito disease. Only the poor insect is accused of being the carrier.
One, two, three gulps. And the drug goes down your oesophagus. Again, you begin to feel a little better. You just have to be fine. You have work to do.

Next, the cramp comes. The fowls neck has just been snapped. Blood oozes. They say its important. You let it slide, and find a way to take care of yourself. You have to.

Yet again, another strike. “You have ulcer” he says. What? How? Why now?

Not even the bother.
You’re in church and suddenly, you have to pray against witchcraft.

Oh no! You don’t even walk alone. Monitoring spirits accompany you.
What? “No! I’m sure I came here alone”.

Your psychic has been tampered with.
Do you believe his words? He’s revered right?
He should be right then.

Damn! In a swift, your countenance changes.
You’ve been destabilized.

All your plans thwarted. Your visions blurry.
How did you let them get to you?
Now you walk with a feeling of consciousness.
No! Not the usual kind. This kind that tells you, you have company. Spirit who won’t let you succeed. Who won’t let you work.

You lose grasp of your being. Death means nothing to you. Its just the absence of life you say.
And until it comes, you just have to live.
Live and let live. Oh, and pray. Those spirits need to be redirected. They can’t follow you anymore.

But if they really do follow, doesn’t that make you their leader?
Which also makes you the architect of your own life. Right?

Why then do you let prophecies intervene? Believe if you must, but move on while at it.
Don’t dwell.

You’re sick- seek medical attention.
You have cramps – seduce the pain relief.

Pray also if you must… But with an open heart this time. Clearly NOT letting the circumstance define you.

You’re your own person.
You’re who you want to be.
You are your destiny.

Take control and be in charge.

I am here because you are. And this is partly my story.

I am Queendalyn.

The Father I’ll Always Have|Life Story

When I think of my dad, I think of love. I remember seeing my childhood pictures. He’d hold my hand as I took steps, or carried me on his back. Staying with my grandma at some point, she’ll always tell me about my dad. He was her favourite which automatically made me hers too since I was his only child. She’ll tell me how my dad would bath and feed me, especially after my mom left us. He’d carry me on his back to work. I sometimes distracted him with playing that he’ll bring me back home to my grandma before the end of business. But then, come back again to carry me saying I’m his good luck charm. My name Queendalyn was his initiation. He said I’m a royalty child sent to the world to do good. Followed by my second name, Ngozi which meant blessings. According to my grandma, my birth opened way more doors for my dad. And that even while I was still in my mother’s womb, my Father with make declarations in my name before going out, and he’ll make so much progress afterwards. He made sure I was born in the best hospital with about four to five doctors attending only to my mother. The attention he gave me made my mother so jealous. Part of why we don’t still get along till date cos she always wished she had more than I did. My mother wanted a baby boy, but my dad had hoped I’d be a girl. The first scan showed a boy, making them buy all the baby boys clothing’s and accessories. But I was born a girl and my Father was more than grateful to the universe for granting him his heart desires. Though it was later said some time in my teens that it was my uncles who were scared of me being a boy that changed me spiritually to a girl (I never understood this)

Anytime you hear my grandma talking about her favourite son, you’d see such glow, happiness and then tears. She missed him so badly. I was barely two years when he died of a heart attack. They said he was asthmatic (probably why I am too) and had so many heart complications. My grandma will give me almost anything I want when my uncle is not around. She’d tolerate my stubbornness sometimes just because she always sees my dad in me. Maybe I was meant to be a boy after all, cos I acted so much like one in my childhood, part of what made me survive most harsh treatments meted on me. My grandma will tell me how I would have left this country to study abroad if he was alive. That he sent so many others out there and made plans for me too. He was such a great giver that you can’t come to my village/town and mention Bolingo without people knowing who he was. I get some favour at times just because those people know that I’m his daughter. “Ibu nwa bolingo” (“You’re Bolingo’s Child) was a ticket to either favours or reminisce from them about my dad. And it was always good things! Oh how the good die young.

Even though I grew up around so much bitterness and hatred, my heart always knew love. It was automatic! Just a one year love from my dad which I wasn’t even aware of nor remember was embedded in me, gave me a lifetime of the gift. The love I have for people makes me so gullible that everyone that used it against me got away with it. I can be told you’re killing me and I’ll still see some good in you and believe that you’d be better. The few relationships I’ve been in, I end up subconsciously acting like a mother to the guys, not because I had a great mother, but because of the love my dad had for me.
Most times growing up and staying with my mother, I had wished she died instead of him. I know it’s not a good thing to say, but I meant it. If given an opportunity to resurrect a dead in good shape and form while sending another to the grave, that wish of mine still holds till date. I love him so much and I don’t even know or remember him. His love just made me love him, plus I look and act like him in many ramifications.

Dad, I could write tons of book about you and never run dry. Thanks for wishing me a girl. Thanks for loving me unconditionally. Thanks for being the strength that carries me through tough times. Thanks for depositing your gifts and kindness in me. Thanks for letting me have your heart. Though it killed you early, I’ll live my life and yours. I wish I knew your deepest desires and goals so I’ll fulfill them. Mama told me that you loved helping people and I get why I always want to do same. But I don’t always have the resources and I pray you help me talk to God. Maybe He’ll hear me through you. Sometimes it seems I’m working in reverse. I desperately need a platform or foundation right now to change my status. How do I get that dad? I grew up loving and doing business so well and I came to understand you were a tycoon yourself. We have so much in common that even though I’m not a man, I see you in me every time. Thank you for being my Father the short while you were. I’m deeply grateful.

I see people talk about their dad and I cry at your absence. I feel so alone. I’ve sought a Father figure so badly that I had to apply to be a daughter to a stranger. That may be one of the silliest things I’ve done, but that’s because I’ve never had true love other than from you and grandma. And you both are gone😥 I’ve loved truly and never gotten same in return. I remember after I returned from a kidnap years later, my grandma had cried herself to illness saying she lost her son the second time. The joy she had in seeing me again knew no bounds. And she did things extra just to make me comfortable and keep me close enough not to leave her sight again. Yet she turned out leaving me too. My mother despite her wrongdoings acknowledges she had the best husband in you.
Talking about husband, I wish mine would have the kindest of heart like you and love me as much as I’d love him. I pray I’ll be his priority and that he puts me first. I pray he listens and appreciates my words and advice. I know he may not be exactly like you dad, but I pray for some positive semblance. And I sincerely pray he has a great sense of humour and makes me laugh.

I know you’d forever remain with me dad and for that I’m thankful. I love you always and will keep trying to do right by you, even when the world forces the demons out of me. I’ll simply be great, just so you can smile down and be proud of me. I have all the qualities already and I’ll grab that chance once I get it!

Before I end up over typing and giving out a more than needed information, I want to say a happy Father’s day to all the great and not so great dads in the world. Cherish your dad now that you have him. Take care of him and respect him. I also pray for those dads that are angry with themselves for not having all they desire to train their children. May you receive all the financial aids you need. And for those that treat their kids wrong or abandoned them, may God melt your heart of stone and give you the grace to appreciate your children. Happy Father’s Day once more.

I am Queendalyn. And I am my Father’s daughter❤❤❤

Invincible|Poem

I’m no Ghost Walker!

I don’t have to infiltrate your cabal.
Neither do I stoop to cherish your words that gets lost in a quagmire.

Being invisible simply gives me an edge.
An edge over your diversities and eccentricities.

It allows me align myself with a code — That part of you, that even you in your hastiness to portray, do not see.
That part you let slide past you just to prove another point.

I’M NO GHOST WALKER!
I’m here, I live and I learn…
From the things that your audaciousness fail to grasp.
The solemn rhyme from the inconsistent posters > yet there!

I’M NO GHOST WALKER!

I do not have to be here to be acknowledged.
But even in my absence, my presence is felt.
My shadow runs as a direction for your life.
YES!
I’m indeed here, and the things I’ve learnt so far makes me more visible to this cloaked world.

Because through the lenses of my words, you see me.

I’M NO GHOST WALKER!

I am Queendalyn.

Yay or nay?

Nobody should come here and tell me about feminism or chauvinism.

And I’m going to type this in the most simplest of English Language.

A HUNGRY MAN IS AN ANGRY MAN
This couple dated for about a year and got married eventually.

A week after their marriage…life has probably been back to normal with the couple going back to their different places of work.

The Tuesday of this new week came with an “early” drama in the home.

The wife came back 30mins before her husband. He had already called to say he was coming home and very hungry.

She asked him what he would like to eat, and he said “anything quick, I’m starved”
Noodles came to your mind right?

She was also hungry so she opened the fridge and looked around. Its just a week after their wedding and they still have some leftover of varieties of food.

She chose some wraps of moi moi, steamed them, ate some and served him the rest when he came back.

As he opened the plates…
He asked “I didn’t see you cook this earlier, where is this from?”
And she replied “its the left over from our wedding. You know you really loved it that day so I thought…Her words were stuck to her mouth as he angrily threw this hot food with the plate on her face.

“How dare you serve me such stale food!” He raged…

The woman looked at him in shock, then immediately rushed to the bathroom to wash her face.

She later came out to the hungry and angry man she married who had already stumped out of the house.

Now…was he right or wrong?
Was her actions deserving of his reaction?
Is it bad to serve your husband leftover meals?
Or is his action justified, since he was really hungry and ought to be angry?

Tomorrow.

This “you don’t know tomorrow” phrase has made a lot of you to both tolerate and accommodate things you naturally wouldn’t. And when you eventually get to that tomorrow, you will find out that nothing come out.

Please set your principles, live today fully and freely. In fact, live your life, accommodate and tolerate as much as you can. But never to the detriment of your happiness.

Tomorrow will surely take care of itself. After all, you REALLY don’t know tomorrow.

The Extra Mile|Fiction

“What is wrong with you! Why on earth would you do this to me”

He raked as he watched helplessly all his cloths drown in the bathtub.

He’s been married to Angie for a year now. She’s humble and sweet. The kind of woman you’d make a portrait out of, just for the world to see how spectacular she is.
When did she become this mean?
When did she stop caring about his feelings.

Angie simply walked past him and placed what seemed to be the last part of his cloth into the tub. She pressed, making sure the water gets to them all.

Kyrian is speechless. He looks at her in awe, bewildered, and unable to tell what got into her.

“You’re not going anywhere, not today” She said ad she wiped her hands with a white towel.

“What?! But I have to work! What’s all these?”

“Work?” She retorted
“Baby you’ve been working for the past one year. I know your job. You wake up by 8 and leave this house by 8:30, sometimes even 9am.
Why the sudden change in time?”

Angie is really bothered and she strongly suspects there’s another woman. Her husband now leaves for work by 7 or before 7am.
“Since when?” She wondered… The past few days has been nothing but confusing to her. And now, he hides to make a call.

To make matters worse, its a special day. A very special day and as usual, he forgets and this time he’s leaving her all alone.

Kyrian takes another look at her, and leaves her presence angrily. He gets to the room, the wardrobe is half bare…void of his cloths though.
He shuffles through Angie’s clothings undecided. He knew her cloths will fit in…they’re basically of the same shape. That’s part of what he loved about her…constantly following him to the gym.

He pulled out a jean trouser out of the folds, and proceeded to put it on. Just like he predicted, it fits. But was too tight on him, revealing his flat ass and making it even flatter.
He threw in a polo…at least that seemed way better than the jean.

He came out to the sitting room and searches frantically.

“Honey, where is the car key?”

Angie, from inside the kitchen. “I have it, I’d be getting some groceries this morning”

Kyrian fumes…”that is my car and I need to go to work. Since when did you get groceries this early?”

“Point of correction, OUR car”. She emphatically replied as she began to head out of the kitchen with a knife and some sticks of green peas.
” And when did you start leaving for work this…”

Her words are stuck to her mouth the minute she fully enters the sitting room.
He looked so ridiculous that she couldn’t help but burst into an uncontrollable laughter. She laughs long and hard, at each point trying to o catch her breath or talk but just ends up laughing again. Kyrian ignores her.
She finally composes herself.

“Wow, you’re really desperate! It has come to this? What is it that she gives you, how does she do it for you? What in particular does she give you Kyrian?”

He reluctantly walks towards her, raises her jaw. Her anger seem to have been doused as she slowly closes her eyes awaiting the passionate kiss that usually follows when he holds her up like that.

“Something you’re not giving me right now. Space!”

He drops her face, heads to the balcony and grabs one of the bicycles they use for exercise. He opens the door, takes one more glance at her and disappears.

Angie is dumbstruck! She looks around the house. Yes he’s really gone, and on that outfit?

“Oh my God, what have I done? What kind of wife am I, allowing my husband become a subject of mockery just so that I can be selfish?

She immediately drops the items she was holding on the dining table, wipes her hands on her cloth. Grabs the car key from where she hid it and raced downstairs. She starts the car and drives out the open gate.

On getting out, she halts at a boutique opposite the house and calls to the owner.

” Please Chi, a trouser and a shirt for my husband. Its urgent.

The owner responds ASAP and comes out with the cloths smiling. “You want to surprise him again right?”
She poked her nose.
Angie just smiled, nods and gives her wads of cash that is definitely more than the worth of the cloth. She throws the cloth at the back seat and releases the brakes.

She’s now on the main road. She began to dart her eyes left and right until it falls on her husband ahead, gradually pedalling.
She notices the eyes of people on him and feels terrible.

“I really shouldn’t have let it go this far, I’m so sorry honey” she blocks a tear and increases her speed.

Then boom! She bumps into the long traffic.
She tries to reverse but a hilux just blocked her possible exit. She looked around, exhales and resigns.

But then, far ahead, her husband just branched and seem to park the bicycle.

She turns off the ignition, alights, opens the back of the car and grabs the cloths she just got. She locks the car and begin to race after her man. Most of the commuters and passersby murmured and watched her in shock, but she didn’t care about them. She cared about Kyrian.

As she approaches the vicinity, she sees her husband through the transparent window panes talking to a bit plumpy but seemingly beautiful lady.

She was right after all. And she was downcasted.

She just stared at them and they laughed. She then looked at the cloths in her hands.

“Well, I’m here already. He might as well wear something” manly” to talk with her”

She barges into the big but beautifully decorated hall. She notices some light are dim in other angles of the hall. That’s not her concern.

She heads towards the “couple” and throws the cloth at Kyrian who catches them.

She stood for seconds looking at him, and then at the lady. With tears in her eyes, she turns to leave.

But then, out of no where, the lights became brighter. And cheers from a lot of people.

“Happy Anniversary Angie!!!”

What? Was she dreaming?

Her husband smiled, came closer and raised her jaw again. This time, kissed her passionately. It took her few seconds to recover from the shock and succumb to the kiss.

After some seconds, he slowly releases her lips.

“Well” Kyrian began “I knew you’d follow. You love me too much not to”
…”Jessica there” Pointing to the plump lady “did give me some space.
The space I needed to surprise you” “She helped out a lot” He added.

“Happy anniversary baby” I didn’t forget”

The rest were smiling. Angie hasn’t still found her words.

Jessica just hugged her and smiled.

“Happy anniversary Angie. But you really allowed him come out looking like this?”

They rest laughed, including Kyrian.

Then, Angie was able to let out a smile.

” its what we do for love” Kyrian said as he carried Angie towards the beautiful table set for just the two of them.

Angie remembered her car, but waved the thought off. She smiled as she looked into the eyes of her husband who would literally go the extra mile for her.

©Queendalyn
Screenwriter®

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