Tears ruining the perfect make up on my face and every muscle aching from too many late nights, I looked at my ‘to do’ list. It seemed to stretch the entirety of womanhood, from mundane activities like doing the laundry through to developing my business empire. On the sheets of paper in front of me seemed to be the tasks for 5 different people, the business woman, the wife, the children’s ministry member, the daughter, the friend, the sister, it didn’t seem to end.

‘I’m soo tired’ A shriek of frustration that came from the depths of my soul. ‘I just can’t take this anymore!’
My mind started playing tricks on me. I jumped on the ‘I’m just not good enough’ emotional merry go round. It reeled off the mental record of things I should of, could of and would have done; like the unforgiving boss completing an internal appraisal of myself.

After I had bent the ear of everyone who cared to listen, I faced my internal mirror. I took a good look at my busyness and concluded that I was achieving very little. I came to the strange but very true conclusion that I am not Superwoman. I am not a fan of ‘I can’t’s but aren’t there only so many ‘I can’s one can have? I can try to relax my hair whilst making dinner and encouraging a sister on the phone. The reality is one of those tasks will suffer, that evening I could end up in A&E with blood pouring from my scalp, a cindered kitchen but a very encouraged sister. The realisation of my true identity as a forever newlywed and not superwoman threw up many issues.

We have been taught from the beginning of time that women are the greatest multi-taskers. We have been praised for our ability to juggle tasks like trained circus performers but, what if the learned psychologists were wrong? There are millions of women who can empathise with how I have been feeling; tired, worn out with a list of tasks long enough for the circumference of the earth. Of course, that idea does not settle too well with a busy body like me. I still agree with those learned people. It’s not that we cannot multitask; it’s that we grab at soo many tasks at one time. We snatch them as if they were the last pair of shoes at the Boxing Day sale. So quick to select the tasks that we don’t always weigh up the pros and cons of it. We don’t always ask questions like, what affect will this have on my time, is this time that I have to spare, how will this affect my resources? Surely a better understanding of each task will naturally lead to a better management of time, effort and energy. So instead of relaxing my hair whilst cooking, I could cook first whilst speaking to my sister and relax my hair on the weekend. Bad multitasking means that either little time is spent on each task or the attention given to each task is severely divided. Either way, the end result is an express trip to the Isle of Guilt.

A career or a business brings multitasking to a whole new dimension. Juggling a successful career or an expanding business whilst trying to build a happy home could prove challenging. Sometimes when I get home from the office (especially when I have programmed my mind to sleep upon arrival), the will to cook and the desire to pick up laundry that magically missed the basket, mysteriously disappears. The apron doesn’t look a good enough exchange for the supercareer cape woman I have so delicately wrapped round my shoulders.

In the workplace women now how have the pressure to perform just like superhero’s have to conquer their evil counterpart. Wives of old used to have ‘cook outs’ and ‘baking days’ but now with the world’s favourite kitchen appliance – the microwave – u can be ‘Miss Career’ and ‘Best Food Warmer’ all in one. I am by no means banishing us to a prison of nappies and Jamie Oliver re runs. The person writing this has dreams, aspirations, plans and objectives that are carefully conspiring for world domination. Believe it or not, there are women who place their businesses and careers far above their husband and their children. They love their family but continuously arrange their everyday tasks around their career and not around their family. Things like happily spending an extra hour in the office which means that you’re not able to spend that hour with your husband or children. We ought to strive for a life of balance.

Sometimes in the midst of our multitasking, we forget that we are part of a formidable team. We have husbands!! What an underestimated asset we have by our sides. I believe there are a number of tasks/projects we struggle with that we could work with our husbands to achieve. Granted not everyman might want to help your daughter make her costume for the ballet recital but he might be thrilled to give you direction for your business ideas. You might just discover untapped potential buried on the inside of him. I believe in every relationship there is a visionary and an implementer perhaps, you can see opportunities but lack the momentum to see that come to pass. Every superhero has some sort of side kick, someone that goes along with him on all his adventures. Batman has Robin and Superman has Lois Lane. As wives I think we are guilty at times of forgetting that we are the side kick. I say that not to cause offence but to make you realise, the superhero’s aren’t anything without their side kicks. If Clark Kent and Lois Lane really did exist in today’s society, Lois Lane would be the breadwinner in that household. Think about it! Clark Kent would forever be flying off to save the world from the many disasters, so what work would he achieve to bring money in?! I wonder if he would help her to cook and clean?! Every good prince needs a princess to save, imagine if Rapunzel decided to buy her freedom by creating lace wigs with her hair! They are no less a princess for needing rescuing, both characters make up the entire story.

I am getting my life in check. I have learnt that not every good idea needs to be executed now. The world will not end if I don’t send that email or arrange my clothes in colour and season order. I have come back to basics to even question what my purpose is on this earth. Sounds deep doesn’t it? The definition of that purpose ensures that I only do the tasks that are centred on that. My core purpose aside from being the female version of Richard Branson (in business style only as I don’t have an aspiration to set sail in a hot air balloon), is just to be a WIFE.

With the tissues and the tears packed away, my vision and focus returns to start a new to do list.
Number one: Pick up the forever newlywed apron and drop my flying solo superwoman cape.

By:Susan Emina

My hubby is fascinated by nature, he loves watching the discovery channel. You can imagine how that went down with a science phobic person like me, oil meeting water. Gradually though, I have opened up my arms to the animal kingdom and I have also become marvelled at the little things you can learn from careful observation. I recently have made a discovery about what love is based on such David Attenborough type adventures into the world of nature. Countless times the question has been asked ‘how can I tell if I am love?’ and there have been many answers most of which have lined the pockets of love deprived actors and musicians. For many the litmus test for being under the influence of this great phenomenon has always been the fluttering of internal butterflies when your beloved is around. Those who believe in this extraordinary method of detection say that you feel light headed and your heartbeats form the loudest and deepest bass line for love songs worldwide. It is a wonder then that love could be likened unto the life of a butterfly when the average life span of an adult butterfly is approximately one month and the smallest butterflies live only a week or so? Surely this tragically short lifetime shouldn’t be used to speak about what drives many to make long term commitments. If these butterfly feelings are what are being relied upon to form a basis for life changing decision, then this could explain why modern marriages expire so quickly. Clearly marriages of old used ‘swan feelings’ as their indicator, as these graceful features mate for life.

Butterfly feelings are like hurricanes sweeping you high into the sky where you spend every second by your beloved’s side…until that one fateful day. And that day comes to all, where your rose tinted Gucci sunglasses fall off and you realise that you are attached to the world’s worst chewing gum eater! There comes a point in every relationship when those butterfly feelings take flight and what you’re left with is nothing that can inspire the shakespeare spirit that once consumed your beloved. Though the words ‘I love you’ are said, those butterfly feelings have crash landed and couples are stuck on the desert island that is their marriage, without a paddle and boat to get to the mainland. So, where did all the ‘love’ go? Now that you are safely landed in reality airport, summer wardrobe firmly packed away now what do you do?

Communicating our love for each other is an essential part of a loving relationship. It seems that in the first few moments of meeting our beloved to say what we mean and understand completely what they say. There are no misunderstanding that can’t be sorted with a shower of ‘but you know I love you so much’, a lavish compliment or a Shakespearean love note. Somehow this magical togetherness of thought and speech slowly where love is felt goes away and an eruption of arguments and disagreements begin. Is it that your beloved has been traded in the middle of the night by an evil twin or are their true colours really shining through? Truth is…it’s neither. You are simply speaking different languages and neither of you are trying hard enough to take the time out to translate.

One of favourite sitcoms is ‘My Wife and Kids’ and if you haven’t watched it, you need to break out of your Eastenders and re runs of Sunset Beach routine! My most treasured episode is when Michael (husband and father) was zoned out watching a basketball game and Janet (his wife) came to make a request. Michael looked up from his reclining chair, looked up at his adoring wife, saw her mouth moving but heard only Japanese. He recognised the person in front of him but he couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, even though in reality she was speaking English. For fear that he would be verbally assaulted for not paying attention, he nodded in agreement. The rest of the episode is a collection of hilarious events that happened simply because Michael hadn’t listened. It’s a similar situation to when I go to the hairdressers and I explain my desired style with a pictorial reference but end up looking like an 8yr old flower girl. Quite clearly I was not speaking the hairdresser’s lingo. Why is it that marriages, friendships and relationships with hairdressers that start out with such great flutters can end up being swimming in confusion? I could be screaming I love you by spending all my credit crunch cash on you but you might not interpret this as love. Why is that you can do all that you know how to do to show someone that you love them yet they are convinced that you do not?

There are 6,900 living languages in this world, spread over just seven continents on this semi-green earth but there are only five universal love languages. Thankfully, none of these languages can be attributed to our dear friend the butterfly. These languages do not depend on internal feelings and aren’t affected by external circumstances. Everyone has a way in which they communicate and receive love. Usually the way you communicate love most frequently, is the way you best receive it. These love languages consist of Quality Time, Gifts, Acts of Service, Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation. I initially concluded that I must speak and receive all five!! After closer evaluation I have discovered that I have a primary love language. If my love language is absent from any marriage or relationship I have, it dies as quickly as a slug covered in salt.

The wisdom of Great Grandma Anita who has been married for 81 years said ’couples these days don’t last long because they don’t take enough time for each other.’ Married in 1928 she currently holds the record for the longest marriage in Uk with her husband Frank. Time is indeed such an expensive commodity. It’s that extra shift or another opportunity to force the hand of your boss towards a hefty pay rise. It is essential that we take time to notice our beloveds’ responses to our actions. Do they seem less of a green goblin after spending an evening chatting about nothing? Then they are probably a native ‘Quality Time’ love language speaker. Are they much more responsive after you have inflated their ego with plenty of compliments? That will be a citizen of ‘words of affirmation’ kingdom. Become the radar for flutters in your home so that the next time you realise you’re running on empty, do the things that send the butterflies into flight. Do your best to stay forever newlywed.

NB: For more information on The Five Love Languages, please visit www.fivelovelanguages.com

By: Susan Emina

Last Saturday my hubby had been officially married for 15,811,200 seconds which amounts to the equivalent of 263,520 minutes or 4392 hours or 183 days or 26 weeks or more simply 6 months. (Yes I am that petty, lol). We are half way through the momentous 1 year and I am glad to say that my wedding ring has not been flung out the window of our speedy Citroen C1. Don’t get me wrong, we have had some tense moments and have had to deal with circumstances that have altered our lives in the last 26 weeks BUT we are still going strong.

Recently, we have been entertained by other married couples who made what we had dealt with look like a slow motion stroll through Victoria Park. Sometimes in life, our emotions manage to create the wonderful illusion that we are the only one suffering. We send out invitations for our extravagant pity party and punish all those who don’t attend. My hubby and I were really humbled when we heard their stories and admired their strength. I greatly admired the wives as I could not even try to understand how they had managed to keep their cool. How had they resisted sending out electronic pity party invitations? I was truly in awe. They demonstrated the kind of strength that I had only seen in wives of old.

In the class of wives, I feel that my mother’s generation are at the top the game. They were and still are able to deal with the most difficult situations. Their emotions had structures of steel that refused to bend or break to the winds of life. They have spines made of titanium that refused to be corroded by the acidity of life. Wives of old absorbed every single pain and were literally the rock of their families. It somehow didn’t seem to matter if their husbands had begun extracurricular activities with their secretary; they continued to hold the home together. They didn’t seem to throw tantrums over matters like who should switch off the light or who was the last one to load the washing machine. Through adultery, domestic violence, money and poverty, these wives remained like Rosa Parks; unmoved.

Aside from this great emotional strength, old school wives were adaptable and resourceful. When their little princes needed a new pair of shoes, their older brothers’ rejects got a lick of shoe polish and some new laces. Clarks couldn’t even compare to this level of workmanship. When the little gems needed their hair done, old school wives become hairdressers. It didn’t matter if you had about 5 different types of extension on your head – (curly, crimped and crisp) your highly unique hair do was complete! These wives always did their best with what they had and worked hard to get what they had. An old school wife didn’t mind waking up at 4am to start work at 5am, cleaning the offices of oxford schooled professionals.

Wives of old had aspirations and dreams, far beyond their one bedroom flat. True they may not have had the opportunity to go the university, but they had carefully mapped out the destiny for each of their doctors, I mean children. There was never a shift too long or a bank account too empty that would deter them from reaching that goal. Educating their children was of extreme importance, they may not have always understood what simultaneous equations were but God their princess, if they didn’t score 100% in the end of year exam.

Old school wives created masterpieces from their tiny kitchens; they could recreate any food on the high street or fast food restaurant. After their child has thrown an EST (Embarrassing Supermarket Tantrum), they would toss a few pounds of cooked oxo induced mince meat sandwiched between slices of Kingsmill to create their version of The Big Mac. Wives of those times provided meals for their husbands irrespective of the arguments they had, even though they probably wanted to christen them with the hot stew they just made. Some of us mod wives serve up a series of finger clicks and neck bends for starters, a healthy helping of the silent treatment for main course and for desert ‘I have a headache’.

Wives of old had profound respect for their husbands, irrespective of how low or high his position was in society, what car he drove or his income. Their respect came with an amazing submissive nature. I have heard of husbands that I have come home to declare that they are moving countries, changing careers and religions. And even in the ‘unlikely’ event that their husbands ideas were out of this universe, wives of old seemed to have a manual on how to change that mans mind. Millions of children used and abused this principle: to get money from dad go to mum.

Sometimes, when I have come out of one of my unreasonable tantrums (for which I believe my husband drinks kegs of patience), I compare my actions with those of the old school wives and wonder if I will ever get there. Will I ever get to the point where a ‘you said, I meant’ situation won’t make me boil over with ‘if I wasn’t a Christian what I do to you’ anger? Truth is, only time will tell. These women were not born as wives but as baby girls. Time and bitterness of life have made them the old school wives they are today. There are some that are still learning, that still refuse to understand the basics of wifedom. We the mod wives need to make it our responsibility to listen, look and learn. I crave the kind of titanium spines these women had; the ability to not only find peace but also to maintain it in the middle of chaos. I believe that this economic crisis is crying out for women who will not be moved by the rates, redundancies or repossessions. Sure, I have only been married for 15 million seconds (and counting) but with each second that goes by I am working towards demonstrating the kind of strength that the old school wives did, who is with me?

By: Susan Emina

‘We have been trying to get Tunde married for the past ten years!!’

My auntie screamed like only Nigerian mothers can, placing particular emphasis on the number of years. She said it so slowly as if for those few second her mouth was slapped by a time warp. I sat there concentrating on my very serious portion of pounded yam and efo stew, wondering which angle to surgically attack it first.

‘Ah ah, why now? How old are you?’

‘36, Ma’

Mr Tunde didn’t seem moved by my mum’s direct approach. He seemed rather composed which made me realise that he clearly has had this conversation with the entire elderly population of whichever village he hailed from.

‘Hope everything is…you know ok? I mean I hope everything is working’.

I couldn’t believe it. How can mums be so direct?! You literally just met the dude and you are asking about his sexual health!! She pressed on with an avalanche of questions; are there no women in your church, why don’t you go to church, what do you want in a wife?

Mr Tunde took us on a journey through his family history, he explained that all the marriages around him had never lived happily ever after. His father, uncles, brothers and friends all had disastrous marriages that had created a string of children and a harem of wives so why bother to get married?

‘Why get married?’

That’s quite a philosophical question to ponder upon, whilst devouring pounded yam. Naturally out came my spiritual high horse ready for me to ride off into the religious horizon but aside from the scriptural answers( ‘two are better than one’, ‘it is not good for man to be alone’ etc), what strong argument can be put forward that supports the notion of getting married?

Mr Tunde was quick to remind us that statistically more marriages end in the divorce court than they do celebrating their 25th year anniversary. I find myself asking of those that are still married, are they enjoying or enduring their marriages? I have heard people say ‘if I had another chance I would never marry him’ or ‘I am only with her for the sake of our children’. With examples like this before us, it’s a wonder why people go through the hassle of emptying their entire savings to get married, go through years trying to work together to rebuild the funds only to split it down the middle through the courts.

Perhaps people get married for the obvious – sex. What a delight it must be to have 24hour access to your own boudoir? That is assuming that you have a cooperative spouse who willingly yields to your every need without complaint and knows exactly what buttons to press and not to press. I mean for those us who are sticking to the guns of no sex before marriage; it seems logical to get married so that you can enjoy what God created guilt free. But surely don’t you run the risk of boredom, tossing sex to the side like a toy on Christmas day. Sex is so easily accessible these days (so I have heard), that it seems rather ludicrous to purchase a rather expensive dress with a 24 hour life span, simply to enjoy it. One could suggest that you might as well hop into the bed, take care of business and pray to God for forgiveness. Sex, in my opinion is no reason to get married.

What about the gold digger philosophy? Using any means necessary to convince a wealthy person of your undying love so that they will speed down to the altar. This usually happens in the case of the celebrities, that we pretend we are too holy to notice but are so up to date with the last time they brushed their teeth! These celebrities fall in love with their back up dancers and in a 99 day whirlwind romance complete with snapshots in dark sunglasses and bashful faces. They marry on the Caribbean shore with a priest turned Buddhist holding the ceremony. When the whirl in the wind fades away, the true action plan of the now unemployed dancer takes place. The divorce which lines the pockets of some overpaid lawyers is splashed across all our TV screens and newspapers for our very righteous disapproval. Closer to our reality, it may make sense to get married for financial advancement. Perhaps you want a bigger house and you only have a studio flat, getting married to man with a larger income could bring you dream closer. Though this could be short lived, as your quest to build your property portfolio ends you end up having to sell up and return to eating beans and toast. These days’ people are getting smarter; signing prenuptials to agree who is getting what should someone decide to go on a self discovery mission. Today there are a number of self made millionaires, people who come up with random ideas that generate millions so why bother get married to inherit half of a million. It seems more beneficial to me, to remain focused on your own dreams and generate money that you will never (figuratively speaking) have to share with anyone.

So money and sex can’t be effective reasons to get married, so what are?

Mr Tunde said that the only reason that he would even contemplate getting married now is because he is bored.

‘I can tell you what I am doing between Monday and Friday this week. I go to work, I meet a friend for a drink, I go to the gym, I come home. That’s my life’

‘Get a wife, she’ll bring excitement’ said my hubby, in between mouthfuls of jellof rice.

So wives are there to bring ‘excitement’ are they? Are we the replacement for the Playstation, Ipod, Xbox or whatever lastest electronic gadget?! The gadgets are there for your excitement; surely I am far more complex than a Playstation game especially at those special times in the month. I took a deep breath, collected my emotions and realised that this could be a valid point. Wives could be the latest form of entertainment, you wait wives will be wrapped up as gifts to the sons of mums desperate for grandchildren. That brings me nicely onto my next point – pressure. Pressure from parents and aunties is easy enough to ignore, just say ‘yes aunty, no aunty, two rice bags full aunty’. Sure marrying your aunties friends sisters daughter will ease their interrogation but, it’s only a short term fix. Once they see cracks in the picture perfect marriage, they will soon climb upon that band wagon saying that you were no good in the first place. Then there are those that get married just so that they can join the diamond brigade; as if your bling is a consolation prize when you are arguing over the direction of the toilet seat, the way the toothpaste should be squeezed or whose Mary Kay lipstick lips are pressed onto your shirt collar.

Some of you will be screaming at the laptop screen, asking why on earth I journeyed down the marital road. The truth is ever since our encounter with Mr Tunde I have searched for the answer. If we are excluding spiritual reasons, scriptures and phrases; then I got married because I have always wanted to. But it’s not just me! I think every little girl grows up with the dream of walking down the aisle in a brilliant white dress, throwing the bouquet into a sea of marriage hungry young ladies. We have been conditioned to believe that good girls, settle down with good men and set up homes in good areas. Please don’t get me wrong I am madly in love with my husband and if I had the pleasure of marrying him all over again I would, this was just a journey through the mind of a newlywed eating her pounded yam in south London.

By: Susan Emina