Fancy being surprised? Or not?

I love surprises…It gives me joy when people go out of their way to make me happy in any way. Surprises do not always have to be presents, it can be a random act of kindness. The spontaneity of it excites me. However, not everyone is a fan of surprises I have discovered.

 

Someone I know was in a relationship, but not really. She was unsure whether she wanted to continue. The dude obviously knew what he wanted and popped the question. He genuinely loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her but she was unsure. She was so undecided that she left the country to study, the whole time asking him to move on, but he waited. 

During that time of dating, he got her lingerie. She didn’t know how to feel. The guy was obviously in a relationship with her in every sense of it, while she was slightly disconnected. She didn’t know how to feel about this surprise, happy or embarrassed.

Exploring manipulation 3

If you missed the last two parts, read part one here and two here

There were so many factors that stood against the relationship from the start; my dad had always said none of us would marry a non Igala person, he was a professor and wanted me to follow in his footsteps, he was from a place my people were already prejudiced about, I was in my final year while he was just starting university over again, even though he was 5 years older than me, and finally, I was a church girl and he was a bad boy. There were enough reasons to conclude that it wouldn’t work, the odds were against us. But something kept me close to him...I kept telling every one of my friends who asked me why I stayed that he has a beautiful heart. It didn’t make sense but that was it. I made things difficult for him. Somehow I had convinced myself that nothing good lasts forever so this great thing I had going wouldn't last, so I lived in hopeless fear that it would end. I kept breaking up with him, so I could save myself the trouble but he kept chasing me.

Exploring Manipulation 2

If you missed the last part, please read it here.

Fast forward to 2004, I had just returned from my industrial attachment in Abuja where I met the craziest girl I've ever known. Sandy was a wild bird, she was a dancer who wore small shirts and tight trousers that encased her skinny legs. She had the brightest smile and said the most obscene things. I wanted to be like her! This girl was one year older than I was and was openly doing the sort of dancing I only dreamed of. But I think I loved her more because she spoke her mind unapologetically. She reminded me of who I used to be when I was younger. Over the years, because of the beating and the sexual abuse, I had turned into a quiet mousy kind of girl, a recluse to put it better. My clothes were baggy because I was hoping that would ward off male attention. I was quiet except with people I was comfortable with, then I danced only in secret because I was too shy to dance in front of people. Well, Sandy was like a role model. She was a National Youth Service Corps member and I was an IT (Industrial training) student, but we became instant pals. Her birthday was on February 13th and that year, she was leaving for the U.K. on the 15th to seek better things, so I decided to do something I had never done before. 

Exploring Manipulation

So it all started when I was thirteen years old and my parents had their usual fight, with my dad pummeling away as usual. The beating had obviously been going on since I was born but I only became aware of it when I was seven. We had just returned from London where we lived for about four years as my dad went for his PhD.

The first time I witnessed my dad beating my mum, it took me by surprise. As a child, I was feisty and bold. I hated that he was beating her and I made the ‘mistake’ of jumping in between them to try and stop him...I took a good beating! That's probably where all my problems with my father started. Every time they had a fight, as long as I was around I would jump in, yelling for him to stop and tell him that he was doing the wrong thing. I grew up telling my dad he was wrong most of the time and I got beaten for it, a lot.

Anthea and Chris...The wedding pictures

Remember Anthea and Chris? The story in pictures:

TRADITIONAL WEDDING, JULY 26 2014

Anthea was dressed in this attire and taken out by her lovely friends to be identified by her husband-to-be.

Anthea and Chris...2

If you missed the first part, you just have to read it here.

For those who have followed the story, thank you for being patient ;)

Chris asked Anthea numerous times what her plans were for her birthday (August 2013). Anthea didn’t have any real plans so he scheduled dinner for two.

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Earlier in the day, Anthea’s brother, Mark and a friend, Ogba, went by to see her. Some of Chris’s friends and his sister, Tima, also checked on her to give their birthday wishes. Her friends suggested that they go clubbing after the 'romantic' dinner so Anthea was made to promise to call them afterwards.

At 7pm, Chris picked her up.  On their way, he suddenly stepped on his brakes stating that he forgot to get Anthea’s cake because he had ordered a birthday cake for her. They were already late for dinner so they decided that it would be picked up the next day as Anthea ordered a cake for herself also. 

When they got to the venue, a Chinese restaurant, he asked to go upstairs although downstairs was almost empty. Anthea wondered and somewhere in her heart was anticipating a surprise as she walked in but was disappointed, so she voiced it by saying she was expecting to see the place full but he simply smiled and told her that their table was upstairs.