READERS MAIL: My story for you to share

I am not looking for advice as the matter is already sorted. I just thought to share my story.

I am a 32 year old Igbo man living in the UK and dating a Canadian Caucasian with hopes to marry one day. She moved to the UK to be with me and we have been living in sin for about 5 years now my family love her and vice versa but the truth is I can’t marry her. The cultural difference is too much. Click to continue…

After she finally realised this, she moved back home and I went after her In hindsight I am not completely sure why I did but yet I found myself begging her back.

She agreed, and yes I was unfaithful a few times with her and we did get into a lot of fights when I got really angry one day. She called the police and now she is suing me for harassing her and abusing her.

I am to be in court in a few weeks and scared of the outcome.

Part 2 will follow after my court case.

READERS MAIL: How Do I Convince My Husband- MAXIMUS

(B4 u start reading, pls note I attached a picture of my name to this email, so u can use as display picture for my story)

My Ladun of Life! I have been M.I.A on your blog because I just had a baby. Kindly post this on your blog; I need some advice on a pressing issue. I must apologize to LLBers, It’s quite a lengthy read – sorry about that, it’s the only way I could give a thorough explanation. Click to continue reading...

Dear LLB readers, I am MAXIMUS ™ I am of mixed parentage (German Nigerian). My husband is mixed as well (Russian Nigerian). My hubby HATES being Nigerian! When people ask him where his ‘Black’ is from, he denies being Nigerian; He claims being African American or West Indies.

When we had our first baby, she was white as hell! She had no single trace of black in her. I was very unhappy while my husband on the other hand, seemed quite happy that God was gradually wiping away all the naija from his blood line. He kept talking about how his kids will never marry Nigerians ‘cos we have a very bad reputation world over especially in America where we live.

I kept my fingers crossed hoping our second child will have some visible black traits. My hope got dashed few weeks ago when my son was born. My new born, my son, looks nothing like a mixed race kid. I've been so depressed because of this issue. I don't know if it’s the post-natal depression new mum’s suffer or the fact that my husband wants to turn all of us against the other half of our heritage. What scares me most is that my husband isn’t just trying to get rid of the Nigerian blood in his kids, I seriously fear he’s trying to wipe out the BLACK in his blood line – as in he wants his offspring to all be ‘whitey’!!!

Worse off, he doesn't even allow me go to Nigeria anymore. He has forbidden me taking his kids to Nigeria. For me to even venture flying to naija, I have to tell one big fat gigantic lie! That's why I'm always on Nigerian blogs, ‘cos that’s the only way I can enjoy what I'm missing back home.

My father is Nigerian and my mum is German. They've tried to wade into the matter but my husband isn't budging. My older brothers have also tried to dissuade him from this demented mentality, but nothing seems to be working. My family has asked me to give him some time; he’ll eventually grow out of it because he may still be feeling the sting from his Father’s death.

His father passed away 5 years ago and he still feels bruised from this incident because there where strong rumors that his father died from diabolical blah blah blah ‘juju’ sent from his extended family.

Although his parents had always lived in the US, it was during one of their trips to naija for Christmas that his popsi fell ill with very strange symptoms, and died few weeks after they returned to the US.

Following his father’s death, his father’s family focused less on the death and more on how to cunningly corner some of the man’s assets because his father was very wealthy. This made my husband hate his extended family and hate Nigeria even more!

His mum, who obviously isn't Nigerian, doesn't see any big deal with her son's decisions.

My family’s telling me I should take it easy because we are still quite young. My husband is 30 while I'm still in my 20's. So yes, we are still very young. But I have every reason to start now to worry, right? I love my husband. But I also want my kids to know about their Nigerian culture.

The reason why I decided to ask reader’s for help is because, my situation is a very peculiar one; I don’t know anyone who has had a similar experience within my family and network of friends. That is why I decided to send it in on this blog and see if anyone’s dealt with an issue like this in their family

Pls LLB readers help me because I am seriously going crazy! December is around the corner and me I’ve finished planning in my head how I’ll rock Lagos & PH this Christmas. Lol.

What do I do? How do I handle this?

JUST IN: True Life Story

Dear Ladun,

I'm an avid follower of your blog and I'm sick of all the fake ass soppy stories of people seeking advice. I'm going to tell your readers MY story, not because I need any advice but because your blog has been dry of recent and I think it would make interesting reading. Please click to read this…

Anyway, I'm in my mid thirties, married and have kids. My husband and I have really good jobs and are quite successful. We had a great courtship, a real whirlwind romance. Our wedding was in many of the society pages of newspapers and magazines. Everyone said what a lovely couple we were. Life was good. I couldn't ask for more. We started having kids and it seemed our family was complete. What more could a woman ask for, right?

Wrong!

The problem is that hubby has always had a roving eye, even when we were dating. I'd found out he was cheating on me several times and we'd go through the whole begging, sending flowers, crying and kneeling down routine. I'd bone for a while, he'd send friends and even his parents to beg me and we'd get back together. I thought he'd change after we were married. Hmmm, big mistake. He continued to carry around all sorts of babes and kept begging after he was busted. Apart from the cheating, he was a wonderful husband, loving, romantic, generous, respectful. My family loved him to bits and quite frankly so did I. Though I was heartbroken about the affairs, I knew leaving him was not an option, even though I threatened him with that all the time.

Four years ago, I attended an industry dinner / concert and even though I was out alone, I soon began to have a good time cos I saw many old friends. The champagne kept flowing and then 2 face got on stage to perform. In all the frenzied dancing and jostling, I spilt champagne on an older gentleman that was beside me. 

I apologized profusely and he smiled and asked for my name, telling me not to worry about it. As I was leaving, he asked for my phone number. I told him I was married, flashed my ring and said I didn’t think it was a good idea. Smoothly, he joked about needing to know where to send his dry cleaning bill to. I laughed and collected his number, promising to pick up the tab then he offered to walk me to my car since it was late and the car park was deserted. He insisted, even when I said I'd call my driver to bring the car to the entrance. We had a nice time gisting before the driver came and he helped me into the car. I got home and didn't give him another thought...until the next day when I found some steamy text messages from some babe on hubby dearest's phone. Something inside me just snapped. I decided not to confront him as I usually would. I picked up my phone and called my knight in shining armor of the night before. I mean two could play this game.

He answered on the first ring and knew it was me just from saying "hello". I'd blocked my number and he went on to say he'd been praying I'd call since he didn't have my contact details. He said he usually didn't pick up unknown numbers but had a feeling it was me. We ended up taking for about two hours. It was great! He was funny and attentive and was intrigued by me cos I was acting all mysterious by blocking my number and not divulging my full name. 

The marathon telephone conversations continued and my phone bill skyrocketed as I was always the one calling. I really enjoyed playing this femme fatale role of being in charge and setting limits so even though he eventually knew my last name, he didn't have my number and always had to wait for me to call. Of course, being that we're both married, he couldn't go around asking people we knew in common for my number so he eventually gave me a cellphone with a contract line that he was paying for so he could reach me anytime. 

Initially there was no sex involved, just a helluva lot of flirting and sexual innuendo. I went away to Accra for work soon after and he surprised me by flying down to have dinner with me. He said I'd always said I'd never meet up with him for dinner in Lagos because it was such a small place and we were bound to be seen, so he decided to come to Accra! I was tripped! We had a lovely dinner and talked until the wee hours. M kissed me and went off to the airport. He had to be in London that evening. The kiss was everything I'd imagined it to be and soon I found myself fantasizing for the first time ever about having sex with someone other than my husband. The worst part? I didn't even feel guilty about it...and that, my dear LLB readers is how my affair with M started.

I'll give you the concluding part of my story in a few days...that's if you really want to hear it lol!

Ciao!