The Hate You Give Your Wife Is The Hate You Receive

 THE HATE YOU GIVE YOUR WIFE IS THE HATE YOU RECEIVE

 Marriage is not a welcome flight. Before you think of marriage, atfirst consider the challenges that confronts. Understand that the woman or man you're about to marry is a seal-tank that contains plumeria of different colours. Seek advice from counsellors on how to manage them after engagement. 

I love when young people say I want to marry but if I should take a razor and carve one part of their leg and then return a smile to them, uptown may say I'm wicked and bad. Similarly, marriage is compulsory at the start once you have the urge but how contributive are you to supply all the cares needed to beautify the woman's or man's want? You may have thousands and millions. You may drive competitive cars and the whole world may make loud your riches. You may have the largest mansions in the world that none could think impossibility could be possible in your presence. But have you ever pondered on what and what could be done to sweeten the hearts of my spouse? Or have you  consider the wounds that would appear in every natural wives?  

Maybe you love divorcity: Letting the woman or the man go through block-stress and you as a man or woman filing up your strength at home.

Maybe you love Cracking: Putting the woman or the man on a high suffer while you finds rest with your co-friends at a joint! Getting drunk and lazy..

Maybe you love exposure: Allowing your spouse to always castigate you to their colleagues. Maybe you love that and it's certain you're not calling for change instead running for hid. You think you're wise but you're a damn. 

In every woman and man lies a betray-gugin, these are somewhat people refer to as differency. Every one is believed to must've possess a parental nature of life——diferency. You must not expect the woman you're about to marry to have same lifestyle with you spite the religion. It must be so mandatory that such must belong to your believe; How long can you rub hands on her wants and figure out some places happiness could be romansively displayed on her countenance? If you can't bear the differency she makes while you're at urge to swipe down her beauty, then both of you were on mistakes during collateral. And what makes hard the whole stuff is that you can't reverse the date. You've been joined and now is time for you to redress the dirtiness in her. 

I think the days both of you had a courtship would've been the best time to remove the seal and see what was inside of her—tank! Here is what men and women experience in marriage. Some who finds difficult passing through those hardness, falls along the line. And some divide into a circle of enmity either remarrying or staying untouch. I have had several stories—soul touching types, that reframe my mind from becoming young Papa as some dream’t or young mama. I had screen through the race and all I could see is a non-confidential evidence, talking about what happens after a night in marriage. It's always partial and I pity some golden spouse; maintaining a solemn cry while the hurts is increasingly regretful. I'm still at doubts if some folks can even marry, taking into hearts the wonders of the world. 

It's true challenges will come! But what can you do to put a smile on ones face even at the dime? I'm sorry I must speak on this! Most women spends night with a man unconscious of his role: returning the post to a woman. I've seen women who struggle for a bite and I've seen men who continually feed on women's bite without having a second-thought. Women at home now becomes bread-winners instead of men! It's a big slap especially to those who doesn't recognise the value of their wives. You can't say you're a bread and you're not winning a vibes for your wife. Nomatter how dirty or dangerous she is; always remember her young beauty: How she was at your young-plea. You went through stress before having her hand: Her relatives hated you insuch that anything to be done was necessary to chase you away. Yet! You stick by. Your mind ready-made. Wasn't her valuable at then? Or would you say she was a blind-gulf? You had no evidence, they're non-confidential evidence. There's nothing you can stand upon claiming to be sad. It's your role and you must play it till your nights sinks. 

Her seal-tank may contain all she wants and dislike! You're never at faults. You're just by her side to calm down some steps she hook on. You may see a bad after your night with her on bed. You may see her good after your night with her on bed. Each of these is a significant enough reason why you must've examined her atfirst before engagement. Yeah! Some are hypocrite: Very hard for you to select what she truly is inside. However, after a night! A truth about her differency would be unveil. But don't fail to be real once the truth is unveil. Don't react or treat her like others do to theirs! Give her her desires and also learn from what you've discovered. By that, you're beginning to build a transparent relationship that would forever last without regrets. 

To women as well! Exceptionally for husband's who've been slaughtered by their boss at work-site, you should learn to understand what their feelings speak of. 

Every marriage go through a slot called 'emotional appetite's. You should be eagerly ready to complete the emptiness of your spouse feelings when it comes. There are men that can't do without a morning kiss from their wife. If yours falls under such root, then be always ready to blow it out. If otherwise, find what you can do to create room for hospitality. That shows how mature you are in the phase. 

Make cold your spouse trust! Your spouse need what the whitemen called "responsibility". If you're a type that depends only on one person struggle (like men depending on women), you'll suddenly fall into a well of disgrace. Remember what i earlier said, that women are betray-gugin! At any point in time you fall their hand, the slap you receive is more poisonous than what you give. 

Be a man that give out good. Be a career runner. And not a career follower. Every husband that understand their role and how to handle it maintain their career-track. Once you marry, your wife and your children if it's around becomes your course of life. If you can't handle them well, you won't be able to pass the examination of becoming a responsible husband. You trust women! I believe they'd import all means to make sure you're shameful on every settling you find yourself. So, don't give a bad hate. Because the hate you give to your spouse today would in reflect turns to repurnish you.. Be wise!!!!???????

For more info: Contact Saviour Willie—Founder of this web. 

What's in Your wallet

 WHAT'S IN YOUR WALLET?

The way we steward our memories can be a major impediment to our developing a great attitude. Past experiences, as well as our perceptions of those experiences, are collected over the years. 

These are stored in what I call our internal photo album. Here your memories, like pictures, are catalogued for quick retrieval.

These photo albums similar to the plastic picture holders we keep in our wallets or the albums we keep on the shelves in our family room—you know, the ones filled with pictures of our children, vacations, birthday parties, graduations and the like. The pictures that made it into these hallowed pages of fame represent only a fraction of the pictures actually taken. How did these specific pictures get the honor of holding the family's memories? What qualities earned each snapshot the privilege of being mounted in the family photo album?

Well, it works like this. The family member who is the first to arrive on the scene and thumb through the pictures recently returned from the developer becomes the judge of what pictures will actually make the cut. In our household, that person is usually me. (I plan it that way!)

Now the selection process begins if, as I am thumbing through the 3*5-inch prints, I come across a picture that makes me look heavier than I really am, out it goes! It is usually discarded immediately without hope for a trial. Any photo snapped at the precise moment a forkful of food was entering my mouth is consigned to the dark abyss of my trash can. If there's one that shows me with my eyes closed, looking funny, with bad posture or anything else that might be conceived in the eyes of the beholder as less than optimal, it is whisked away without funeral or fuss.

Only those pictures that cause me to rival the best male models make it into the album! Then when someone pages through one of our commemorative displays, I look like I just stepped off a Hollywood set. 

None of us would ever allow all the pictures into our albums. That would be horrible. And neither would we take the poorest of the pictures, place them neatly under each cellophane page and throw away all the best shots! That would be masochistic!

As silly as that sounds, that's often exactly what we do with our memories. We forget the best and remember the worst. We tuck the injuries away in the pages of our mental photo albums, and whenever we get the chance, we thumb through the pain again and again. If you could flip through most people's memory albums, you would probably find few prize pictures and many more painful ones.

NO TO GERONTOCRAZY

       NO TO GERONTOCRAZY

For years I’ve been leaning on mother’s towel sometimes I will deny meal I will actively be awake to reach church premises before any other member could I will ensure all house chore are completely look-into, I will assist and carry all responsibility as if they’re mine. Before she’s rose from sleep I’ve started Morning Prayer without objection. I wanted the best be done Yet anytime I stealthily etch to mothers lounge to debate the breast-milk of a child the desire of my heart she’ll sheepishly dab a ferociously. 

I don’t sleep the same house with her since am out of school. Her coworkers knows me as a bag-snatcher. They call me infiltrator. They say I was one that assassinate her spouse. They call me moniker of names.

This one thing I on no occasion dream of: my presence in the family is like I should go on émigré. People perish in Sokoto-State through Boko-Haram bomb explosion, she say am amidst. Chibok-school-girls shanghaied, they say am involved. She fail-to-recall her avocado wallet in Mr. BSc supermarket, they say I stole it.

For the reason that she was pregnant with triple when her husband demise.

For the reason that she was gorgeous and admirable in deeds when he died, the blames must be push on me – I’d be the one on kitchenette and on émigré. 

My two sisters are on no occasion contented with the kind of charisma mother is wearing and clandestinely don’t ignore. They know the best way to consult an enchantress is to kill the inside agents. Regardless of how I love mum, mum still hawk me on bags.

This has generated an antagonism between me and my sisters, they aren’t supportive, the know how she mishandle and configure me like birdie without plumages, know how she chinwags me –and I have seeing how her associates tease me in blacklist.

I’ve tried all best, I have gone on fasting, and bolt myself inside lions dome.

I’ve gone to other neighborhoods to beg people to plead mum, to tell her am elegant and not infuriated.  On the morrow, they’ve arise as many requested and beg, all these had just an entertainment – she’ll eavesdrop yet disdain.

The day Joyce open-up to declare, to tell the people how mum had been using our late father’s remunerations to entertain foreigners or aliens, to host festivities. Her associates put her in a blacklist. She became part of me and a follower of me. We became two in one eating lawns and pottage from rich parents table.

*

We were no longer children, we still behave like them. The muscularity of boldness became matters. We were twenty-two but people discuss us as eighties. We were without facial hairs then again they picture us as men and women of goatee.

When we appear in domestic houses, mother could utter suspicion, all what she could say must be for lazy bearers. The way we answer her in all stuffs created a catalyst in her heart. The way we approach and endorse the words from her gateway describe a languorous nature of grey hairs.

Patience had abandoned us, she’s been pilfered into the wildlife of mother and wiles, and she’s been espoused from akin of Abel to Caine. She want to dramatize us back as millionaire. She want to tell mum without us she can survive. 

We were not mindful of these, it’d be devastated.

For the sake we were two – we were better than one. Often, Joyce do wee-wees on bed. Mum won’t say she’s committed sin and if we do she’d.

Obviously, we decided to visit Okujagu ministry located at No. 5 Birabi Street G.R.A Port Harcourt for assistance. Our sole aim was that we wanted to know the roots for mums’ denunciation. Okujagu Priest was able to give us what we expected but not to what we needed. He said “your mum love both of you but don’t want to assist you.” we didn’t understand. “How could she love us but don’t want to assist us?” We needed the priest to enlarge, tell us what he means. Finally, the priest told us that he can’t help us. He even shouted on us to leave his office. We left. But turn to capture the image of his foundation. The first shrine we visited told us that mum is only jealous with her late spouse. The second prophetess we got-to tell us that mum is suffering from mosquito bite and she ordered us to go and return the next day with five jalopy of minerals. We couldn’t fulfill the task, for the money we had not. We decided to visit free checkup hospital whose registrar was a black dwarf man yet full of tiers. The last home we exited-to be our home because we had truly search all acme and boundaries and couldn’t found the solute. 

We call mother into our private chamber, patience sat by the lame cushion. This was the best time for family matters –things that matters a lot to be discuss – this was the right time for us to exterminate the agents. Mother was too young (depreciation) to answer all our questions. 

She begin with tears. It flushed and revolved our darks. It rain and dust passion on us. The nastiness that once hook in us fades. 

Mother didn’t want liberation because she believe truth hadn’t meant for told. 

According to her, the reason why she neglected our interest in school was because she wanted us live, feed and swim under the belly of politicians. She wanted me especially to be the next president of Nigeria. She gave me a clue of proof about 2015 to 2018 president in Nigeria who attended secondary school but haven’t West African examination council certificate. She made mention of GERONTOCRACY with twelve letters, it was so grammatic, I had to pardon her again and again. She said she want us to join and contest against it. I wanted to ask her what our elderly daddies have done that she don’t want them to rule. Before I could drop my word, her answer have arrived. She said, for the past few years gerousia have been using our budget to sponsor their children in higher institution, fly them to outer cities and countries, provide them good furniture’s and mansions, make themselves millionaires while we the masses suffer.  

When we heard of this, we dread in fears. In my view I was upset –my senior secondary school mates were now in tertiary institution, in abroad eating cheap money, getting fresh and rich everyday. There was nothing we could do. Father abandon us when we were yet unborn and now the same game is played in mother. Patience was now a millionaire, in that we believe she’d no excuse.

We decided to go on break, not to showcase our faces in their presence. We took up research, browse and search the internet, spy and spy bloggers, eavesdrop to broadcasters each time cock crew for 7am or 7pm silver-bird update.

Whatever mother was hoping us do was dangerous, bizarre and longwinded. I don’t know if she sees the consequences, all politicians are not clean. They’ve dipped and soaked hands in blood. They’ve taken bribes and becomes immortal. They’ve killed and burn their love-ones alive, use most of them for rituals. They work hand in hand with devil.

All our research was to confirm if what mother was saying was really true. And what if it wasn’t true? Further explanation could speak. 

The room we were was no television talkless of radio to feed us information. Nathan, our friend, had television but no radio. As long as it tune both silver-bird and rivers state television, we tag kowtow. 

There was tele and vision in our main parlor but since we didn’t want to inter-associate with mother and her wildlife. We’ve to park to Nathan’s house and stayed with him. 

Our presence in Nathan’s house created nationwide-hatred between us and his grandma. She didn’t want to see any boy-girl in her son’s house, but wanted a female gender.

That was never my concern I only hoped and wish all our research could be successful.

That nocturnal while Nathan and his grandma were asleep, I and my sister stayed back. We stayed all throughout the night expecting news to be read. Unfortunate, that nocturnal, broadcasters were fed-up, exhausted and so the executive director of silver-bird (Sen. Ben Murray Bruce) decided to switch-off the station. The news was later read on morning. Nathan and his grandma were awake. They saw how we slumber on the chair with our eyes pointing the tele. The way we shout, Jump and Sit reminds him of the world-wide youth celebration day. It was displayed on the TV. That particular day was youth world day where many express themselves, of not done by leadership. We all match out except Nathans grandma and the old grey gateman. Nathan carried us on his car. He drove us to Spar. He took us to badagry slave museum, kalakuta republic museum, the black heritage museum, the national museum, the mindscape children museum, the Hi – impact planet amusement park, Eden parks and Gardens – ikeja, and the third mainland bridge which is the longest in Africa and the longest of three bridges in Lagos state and was built by Julius Berger and opened in 1990 by President Ibrahim Babangida.

When he finally drove us back to Presidential Hotel in Port Harcourt. I got to know what Gerontocracy was all about. They say it is a society where leadership is reserved for elders. They say it is a form of oligarchical rule in which an entity is ruled by leaders who are significantly older than most of the adult population. They say the ancient Greeks were among the first to believe in this idea of gerontocracies. And as famously stated by Plato, they said “it is for the elder man to rule and for the younger to submit.” 

Because of this, we change the slogan from yes to Gerontocracy to No to Gerontocracy – our youth must rule and not the adult…..