How many affairs should you overlook before you realise your partner is trying to send you a message by pushing you close to the edge?

About a decade ago, Adaobi was in love. Ahmed, her man, was separated from a wife who still lived abroad and against her friend’s and parents’ warnings, she moved in with her superman within a few months of their getting together.

According to Adaobi, he just turned 50 when we met and I’d already had a failed relationship that lasted all of eight years. The only good thing that came of that disastrous liaison was my daughter.

“Ahmed was 12 years older when we met and treated me like royalty. I ran a very successful hair and nail salon and he encouraged me to expand my business – money was never a problem. To show my appreciation, I never skimped on the meals I prepared for him.

Most afternoons, I sent mouth-watering lunch to his office so he wouldn’t eat contaminated food as his bowels get easily irritated. The lunches were my way of making him feel special and appreciated and every afternoon, I would picture my man tucking into his lunch and I’d feel close to him.”

“We’d been together three years when my world first fell apart. A close friend told me that a distant relation of hers who worked as an office clerk in Ahmed’s legal firm had some interesting stories to tell about what he was up to in the office. He didn’t know the girl was a friend’s relation – neither did I until she mentioned it. Anyway, this girl said they were always amused by the different women that trooped in, in the afternoon to have lunch with Ahmed. According to the girl, Ahmed’s mumu wife (that’s me) always sent massive meals to the office every afternoon and these girls were always around to demolish the feast.”

I was shocked and extremely hurt, yet I didn’t want to jump into any conclusion until I saw things myself. The next day, I sent lunch as usual, then waited about an hour before I went to his office. His secretary’s jaw nearly hit the floor when she saw me. She made to alert her boss that I was around but I beat her to his office door.

I pushed it open and there was this girl sitting on top of his desk spoon-feeding him! Another one was busy eating the lunch I’d painstakingly prepared. Ahmed quickly got up and the morsel his ‘nanny’ was trying to feed him with fell with a plop on one of the files. “What are you doing here, darling?” Ahmed asked, rushing to where I stood, obviously still in shock. The two girls quietly scampered. “What is going on?” I asked him, looking at the mess on the table.

“Darling, I am sorry you ran into some lawyers sharing my lunch. They are just kids having fun and let’s face it, if I ate all the meals you made for me, I’d be the size of a house,” he said, looking embarrassed. I simply walked out of his office but he spent the next few days convincing me he still loved me, that nothing had changed. So I forgave him, but the trust was gone. When he had to travel out of Lagos for a big job, he phoned that I should come and join him at the five-star hotel he was checked into so we could have time together.

I was very happy for the break. Who knows, things might just be changing for the better. He’d arranged a hectic schedule for my visit – restaurants, night clubbing and visits with his associates. On the morning I was to leave, he was in the shower when the phone rang. I picked it up thinking it was room service. A woman’s voice cooed: “Hello darling.” I froze. “Who are you?” I barked down the phone. Silence. Then she dropped the phone. When Ahmed came out of the shower, I told him about the call. “Must be one of the hotel hands,” he dismissed my enquiry, “don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

It was a very frustrated me that returned to Lagos. I’d been trying for a child and had already had a miscarriage. Maybe all the stress I was going through was responsible for my not being able to conceive. Weeks later, we were in the bedroom when the phone rang. I picked it up and a female voice answered my “Hello?” With a snap: This is Zainab! Zainab? Amed’s wife in London? They might be separated but they were not legally divorced so, technically, she was still his wife. “You want a word with Ahmed?” I asked her. “Did Ahmed tell you we’re still married?”, she asked.

“I bet he hadn’t told you about his other women too. He’s got gullible women like you all over the place and the one in London had two children for him.” She then reeled off a list of names and I gave the phone to Ahmed who’d had his ear glued to the handset. He shouted at her for a while then slammed the phone. “Don’t pay any attention to her,” he pleaded. She’s just a scorned woman and is upset because I’ve found happiness with you. “But what about all those she named?” I asked him. “It’s true I had a relationship that resulted in two children when I separated from Zainab, but that is in the past.”

“I was getting thoroughly disillusioned by all his women and the lies he told to cover up his philandering. I might want a relationship, but I didn’t want one that would strip me of my pride. All those time he’d claimed to be working away, he must have been staying with his other women.

I felt such a fool. How could I have thought I was special to him when he hadn’t divorced his wife? Did his other women think they were the only ones too? How many meals did he eat a day in these women’s homes? No wonder his waistline kept expanding and why he seldom ate at home. It also explained why he’d arrived at home washed and changed after work. Spinning me a yam that he always had a change of clothing in the office. He had obviously spent the day at any of his women’s houses.

When I learnt he was also making plans to get hitched to a girl 30 years his junior, I knew it was time to leave. Because I adored Ahmed, I didn’t want to throw my hands up and surrender when he started cheating on me. I’d given him another chance. Then another.

And yet another. As a result, I’d stayed years longer than I should have. I thought I loved him, but it suddenly dawned on me that I was just afraid of being on my own. And I had no reason to be. I had a thriving business, an impressive circle of friends and there was no need for me to suffer so much humiliation.

With my collusion, Ahmed had enjoyed every man’s fantasy – he’s got a younger woman to pamper his ageing ego and me, his faithful partner, waiting patiently for him on the sidelines. So, I secretly made plans to move out as soon as I could. Once we were apart, he would have all the space he needed. What’s more, I might just find out that life as a single woman wasn’t as frightening as it seemed.

You’re different down there! (Humour)

A boy and a girl attend the same school and became friends. Every day, they sit together to eat their sandwiches. This carries on for quite a few years until one day the little lad notices the girl hasn’t got chicken in her sandwiches. The boy says: “How come you’re not eating chicken? Don’t you like it anymore?” “I love it”, she replies, “but I have to stop eating it.” Why? He asks, she points to her lap and says: “Because I’m growing feathers down there”. Let me see,” the boy asks, “Oh, O.K.” And with that, the girl pulls up her shirt.

He looks and says – “That’s right you are. You’d better not eat any more chicken”. He continues having chicken sandwiches, until one day he brings peanut butter instead. He says to the girl: I have to stop eating chicken. I’m getting feathers down there too.” She asks if she can look, so he pulls down his pants, “Oh no, it’s too late for you”, she gasps. “You’ve already got the neck and the gizzard!”