Skip to main content
My friend is passing through hell now over a threatened hope of marriage. I just finished sharing my thoughts with her, to assuage the inferno within her soul, and I feel it's necessary to say this here.

Marriage is a wonderful institution but friendship matters more. Marriage at best is a component of friendship. The expectations of friendship with the opposite sex should not always be about marriage. Seek and cherish friendship for the pleasure and solace derived thereof. I have female friends of different cadres. Some married, others engaged and some single. Many girls I set out with are married now, yet nothing has severed our friendship. There are no mitigations against friendship unlike marriage. To emphasize the ascendancy of friendship over marriage, I'd like to say that every marriage needs friendship to guarantee relish and happiness.

Having known this, you shouldn't draw a gun or sword, or go diabolical when your spouse calls or sits you down to say, 'I'm so sorry, this ain't gonna work. We can be friends but I don't think we're made for each other.'
Do not attempt suicide. Don't drink hypo! Accept the offer of friendship because it's all that matters.
Give it some thought when the the doctor says that both of you are of AS genotype. Don't push things. Wait for that one who needs you and who is compatible with you for marriage. Believe me, he is out there. She is out there. And they will come.

Nevertheless, I don't wish to whisk away the effects of broken emotions, the devastation and feeling of hopelessness that follow suite. Almost everyone at a point in life experiences this peppery and choking stab in the heart. Mine isn't a story to be shared here (don't ask me.) But that bereavement can be damped when we look onto the sweet side of friendship.

On the other hand, the point is, enquire about their genotype. Don't mince words about it. Ask it anyhow, before that relationship goes above the diaphragm!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

HER MAJESTY

By Ola Vincent Omotade There was a village named Gini, a town blessed with mineral resources and oil. For a long-time the town had been under the pressure and control of Gbaduze a strong courageous king that ruled with excess superiority and power. A very sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, a seed of evildoers, cities where corruption reigned supreme, they forsake the word of the wise and were bent on doing evil, but at the later end Queen Marieke, a woman brought back glory to the land. There lived a king named Gbaduze, a long living wealthy king, dark shinning in complexion, a man of his own very word and power embedded due to influence of the Niger-areas in Okere-aje kingdom. However, when death came calling, he died and the king makers ordered that the Queen to ascend the throne of her late husband and invariably preside over the affairs of the community. On ascension, she rigorously studied the existing relationship between the three major tribes in Gini. Q...

FEBRUARY 27

By Ola Vincent Omotade Aderonke will be my only poem that never ends, For a good woman is but a poem. A genuine poem that comes in blue moon. You are a jewel of purest gold, The smile that never grows old. You are the beauty of the sunset sky, The intricate twinkle of a happy star. You are the keeper of an unborn life, A champion, heroine, a candlelight . You are a budding shoot, evergreen, a colourful sweetness. Your laughter is like the whirlwind of the spirit, it  keeps resounding in the valleys and hills of life and motions. Encircling the hearts of men with magical notions. So now the night of January is past and the day of February is broken Today speaks of this calmness, this brightness,the one you brought. Today carries  messages of heavy words, Words that are pregnant with beauty for you. And with my golden mouth and pen, I wish to celebrate your existence. What joy of a fuller and freer life, have I got if onl...

THE LOVE IN HIS EYES

 – By Hilanzok She breaks down in tears as she sees him. His eyes a shade of light brown surrounded by a shrub of lashes speaks volume of what he has experienced in his life. His face a texture of smooth avocado gleamed through the canvas-skin; coarse to touch, spectacular and perfect to the sight. She doesn’t know how to explain it, but she felt this tug in her heart, she knows this boy has experienced things the eyes would bleed if it sees, and the mouth would be reluctant to voice out. It is evident in the liquidity of his eyes, the expressionless look( like a 21st-century male Monalisa) they bore. His cheekbones chiseled and firm fitted like a glove to his trimmed face. He is beautiful, but suffering and despair loomed in his aura, he didn’t need to say it out, in fact, he didn’t need to say anything. She is satisfied just looking at his face, admiring and accessing the contours of his face. She feels the urge to lean forward and press her lips against his, she wants...