One of the things I love about my job as an online editor is because I do not have to deal with paper, most people around me think it’s centred on my asthmatic condition and while I enjoy letting them think that, the truth remains that my success is tied to my phobia for paper.

After a terribly lazy weekend, where the work I took home wasn’t even looked at not to dignify it with the word attended to, here I was scurrying around on a Monday morning to make up for lost time, I had a deadline to meet and not just that I needed a masterpiece.

“Ugo, what’s causing the nuisance out there?” I called out to my secretary after 15 minutes of which my expectations for calmness to be restored were brought to nought. It also seemed my question to her was misunderstood to mean “Open Sesame” for Eucharia; as I would later reluctantly learn her name to be came barging into my office and unknown to me she was carrying the masterpiece I was trying to create all along.

“He killed my baby and has ruined my life. I want him to pay for it” but just before the words “you need a lawyer” could be formed in my confused brain and uttered through my quivering lips, with a teary and broken down voice she added “I want the whole world to hear my story, please help me tell it”. All I could do was sit and stare at this lady who was now a shadow of herself; a cocktail of pain and anger masking what used to be a young beautiful sanguine.

I don’t remember how many seconds or perhaps hours went by while I was lost in thought but that window was my decision period and I was going to listen to her lament. “My name is Ebun, I am the…” “I know who you are; I didn’t come here by mistake. Other magazines have offered to pay me but I chose you so let’s get to destroy that SOB”

Such arrogance! I thought to myself, but I got to this point in my career by tolerating people worse than her so I wasn’t going to let miss-I-don’t-need-your- sympathy here to stop me.
“Tega has a sleeping problem that he has refused to admit to even now that it has caused us the life of our baby” she let out more calmly this time, obviously in control of her emotions. “This lady has multiple personality and it’s quite difficult to tolerate” I muttered between clutched teeth to myself.
“I noticed it for the 1st time while we were still dating, I had spent the weekend at his place and he took me to church and promised to come pick me when service was over” she paused and smiled to herself, as if remembering the loving side of this monster she was trying to tear down.

“Even though he knew what time service ended, I still sent him a text message when pastor was rounding up his sermon to be sure he hadn’t forgotten. I think I may have OCD, I always like to double and even triple check things” and with that she started chewing on her nails like was typical of a nervous wreck, I took my phone and quickly texted Ugo “please get a doctor on standby; we may have a medical emergency soon”. After chewing to her satisfaction she started blowing out the contents of her mouth across the table towards my direction “it’s this stupid OCD that made me check on tammy again for the 12th time that night to discover she wasn’t herself, something was off but I couldn’t tell exactly what it was” she hurled out like someone who was relapsing from cocaine abuse.

“I tried waking Tega to take us to the hospital, screaming and hitting him for 45mins did not achieve that”

“What!! I have only known you for about 2 hours now but I believe your screams can even resurrect the dead. Are you sure it took that much effort and time to wake him up?”

“Ebun, the day my husband was meant to pick me from church I ended up going home myself because not only were my messages not being replied; he also wasn’t answering his phone. I was worried something might have gone wrong so it wasn’t even any relief finding his car still parked in its usual spot.” She got up and walked to the window as if in search of more air, while I was almost freezing from this AC that didn’t seem to cool the heat of anger that was boiling from within her.

“I stood at the door banging and calling his name while also dialling his number for over 30 minutes. Even his neighbours were drawn to my now angry and terrified screams. What if he had died inside? To my relief I heard the door open from within, overcome with more relief than anger, we made fun of it as he claimed Jesus gives sleep to his beloveth. Then it was cute to laugh about but looking back at what it has caused me now, I should have sort for a lasting solution.”

“Wow!” was all I managed to say, for the first time in my life I was short for words. I knew about insomnia but this? It sounded very surreal, that it would take 45 whole minutes to wake up a sleeping person who was not sleeping beauty.

“My baby died before we even got to the car” her voice came interrupting my thoughts and awakening me back to this unbelievable story. “I sued him but the lawyers said technically he couldn’t be held responsible for poor tammy’s death as an autopsy had revealed she died from a heart problem that had never been detected before.”

“Most women worry their husbands are with other women when their phones go into voicemail, I wish that was the case with my own husband but no, he’s too busy sleeping”. After about a second she continued “ I have filled for a divorce and I want to tell every woman to stay clear else the next woman who marries him might be killed in a burning room with Tega sound asleep. I want to ruin his life, but I am also hoping my story can attract doctors to find a name and solution to his problem”.

She still loved her husband, I detected from the last sentence she had made. That was the cherry I needed on the cake and with that in place, I drew out my laptop.










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Ticiatowns is a writer extraordinaire with a passion for entertaining and that she does through her vast imaginative ability touching fiction, lifestyle, inspirational and humor.
Follow @ticiatowns on twitter






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Ololade is a passionate writer, Loyal Nigerian and Creative Director of Loladeville .

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