By Bunmi Sofola

Separation has often been a bitter pill for children involved in the heart-wrenching decision to swallow. A few years ago, Claire’s parents decided to separate after almost 20 years of marriage. “My father had always made it known that he abhorred polygamy,” said Claire. So, instead of taking a second wife when it was clear the marriage was in name only, he simply moved to one of his luxury flats. He is an architect and he built a few of those flats for commercial purposes. There are four of us (three girls and a boy) and I am the eldest. We had a proper family meeting before the break-up. Dad said the house was ours and he still loved us, but that the marriage wasn’t working. I couldn’t believe this man. I was already in the university.

“For all I knew, there was a cordial relationship between the two of them. But my mum agreed with him. She is an optician with a thriving practise and apparently, there was no financial reason why she should hang on to him or confess she didn’t want the break-up. That dad did, though there wasn’t any other woman for now. I consoled her the best I could assuring her that dad would soon be back, begging to be taken back. You just don’t throw away 20 years of marriage for nothing. And he was back from time to time to collect bits and pieces he’d left behind.

“He was his old loving self whenever he called and even invited us over to his flat. He’d really gone overboard to do it nicely and I really envied him the place. In the meantime, the break-up had really taken its toll on mum – she’d practically fallen to pieces and a lot of her sparkle had gone. In the end, a few of her good friends put their feet down and insisted on dragging her to parties.

“It was at one of such parties that she ran into one of her patients, Harun. He was in his early fifties, an IT consultant and a widower. Gradually, he had helped to put the sparkle back into my mum’s eyes and treating the house as a second home. He was always taking mum to fancy restaurants and I resented that. If he thought he was ruining our family, he had another think coming. So whenever my mum babbled on about what a lovely time she was having and how Harun was such a gentleman, I just ignored her.

The more the relationship progressed, the more apprehensive I became. If this Harun guy hung around long enough, dad might take the hint and not come back home. So the next time Harun called and mum was in the bath, I greeted him glibly, “Hello Uncle Jaiye”, I said sweetly, mum is in the bath right now but she would meet you at the venue.” There was a short pause before he said, ‘Actually it’s Uncle Harun. Do tell your mum I called.’ I did no such thing.

If mum knew what I was up to, she didn’t let me know. Instead, she was her giddy, happy self whenever she came back from any of her dates. It was obvious Harun hadn’t even mentioned our little conversation. I’d sow him! So when they went out again, I borrowed a friend’s mobile and sent her a message. ‘Missing you so badly. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow, love, Jaiye.’ That would certainly give Harun something to think about. Mum did mention the incident and showed me the message. Harun said it was probably a wrong number. I was annoyed. What would it take to make that man jealous? The next time they went to their favourite restaurant, I paid a friend’s driver to position himself outside the restaurant’s door. He knew mum, and as soon as she came out with Harun, the driver simply handed her the card. Of course, mum had no clue who he was but the card was a love note hinting at what would happen if they met again.

“This time, mum came home completely distraught.” “Harun doesn’t want to see me again”, she wailed. “He’s convinced I’m two-timing him. What should I do? I really do care for him”. Result at last! I told her to take things easy. Who knew what would happen next?

Secretly, I hoped dad would soon come to his senses. He had called that very week and invited all of us to the flat for dinner.

“Dad was really excited as he ushered us in. He planted a kiss on mum’s cheek and hugged us children. “I wanted you here because you’re all important to me” … as he spoke, my eyes nearly fell off their sockets as I noticed this very light-skinned petite woman sitting daintily on dad’s chair. “I want you all to meet Stella,” dad continued. “She’s my current girlfriend. I wouldn’t have asked you over if the relationship wasn’t serious.”

She couldn’t have been more than five year older than me. She was wearing a short dress and far too much make-up. My precious dad – and her? But mum just smiled. “Nice to meet you,” she said sweetly. Then it hit me – my parents were never going to get back together again. What had I done?

As soon as we got into her car, mum’s smile disappeared. She marched straight to her bedroom and I was close on her heels. She burst into tears. “She’s so young and pretty,” she sobbed. “I’m past it. No one will ever want me now.”

I urged her not to be silly – that there were many fishes in the water. “Well, look at what happened with Harun” … she wailed. My heart sank. And so began her depression all over again. I felt guilty. These days, she keeps going on about her wrinkles, her saggy boobs and how older men really prefer younger women. And it’s all my fault. I should never have interfered. I’d give anything to see my mum be her lovely self again. I was so embarrassed for my selfish behaviour that I arranged a meeting with Harun. Shame-faced, I told him what I’d done and apologised profusely. It was a relief when he agreed to see mum again. Before they reconciled though, I had to tell mum of my disgraceful scheme. She was a bit alarmed but agreed to see Harun again.

“These days, I never bothered find out what both parents were up to in their love lives – I have my own life to live!”

He Simply Doesn’t Get It! (Humour)

With his wife away at her parents’ for Christmas, a man decided to take his secretary back to his house for a night of passion. They were rolling around on the bed when he suddenly remembered he didn’t have any condoms. What are we going to do now? He asked. I don’t know, answered the secretary. I don’t have any either.

Just then, the man hit up a bright idea, Hey! He yelled. No problem! I know where my wife keeps her diaphragm. You can use that. So he got up and started searching in the top drawer of the dressing table where his wife kept her contraceptive device. But after rummaging around for ages with no luck, he finally gave up. “The cow,” he snarled. “She’s taken it with her, I always knew she didn’t trust me.”