Father's Love Stories

14/02/2026

07/02/2026

I carried hot food on my head with our baby tied to my back so my husband could sit comfortably in a university classroom… and on the day of his convocation, the same man begged me not to come because he said I wouldn’t “fit in.”

My name is Rebecca.
My husband is Francis.
We have three children — Daniel, Miracle and David.

Before Francis entered my life, suffering already knew my name.
My father was a drunk who never cared whether we ate or not.

My mother struggled alone like a soldier without rest. As the first daughter, I grew up fast, too fast.
I was the best student in my secondary school, my dream was to become a lawyer. Teachers used to say,
“Rebecca, you will go far.”
But brilliance without money is like a car without fuel.

After SSCE, I stopped school.
Not because I wasn’t capable but because my younger siblings needed a future more than I needed a dream. I hawked in Oshodi under the burning sun. I sold snacks at night in Ojota. Every naira I made went into their school fees.

That was the life I was living when I met Francis.
He was gentle, respectful, and just as broke as I was. He had only an NCE and was teaching in a small private primary school around Agege, earning ₦25,000 a month, salary that disappeared immediately after transport fare.
But he loved me loudly.
He would hold my hands and whisper,
“Rebecca, one day I will give you heaven and earth.”

We had a small parlour wedding, plastic chairs, neighbours cooking, borrowed speakers. Nothing fancy… but my heart was full.
Life began immediately.
His salary could not even cover feeding, so I started cooking food to sell around Iyana-Ipaja. Every day I woke by 3am, pounding pepper while the children slept. I cooked, sold, washed plates, returned home late at night, and still smiled because I believed we were building something together.

One evening, Francis came home with fire in his eyes.
“Rebecca… I want to go back to school. If I get a degree, our lives will change forever.”
I looked at our small room. The unpaid bills. The children.
His salary was already almost useless.
But I also saw the hunger in his eyes, the same hunger I once had for education.
I sighed deeply and said,
“Go. I will carry us until you succeed.”
He cried that day.
“I will train you too after I make it. I will never forget what you are doing for me.”

He bought the admission form himself. Everything else, school fees, feeding, handouts, accommodation came from my sweat.
When he gained admission into University of Nigeria, Nsukka (UNN) to study Business Administration, my real test began.
My cooking business was no longer enough. When school expenses increased, I started hawking in the evenings too, carrying heavy flasks with our 10-month-old baby tied tightly to my back.

My body hurt, but my heart was strong.
People used to ask me,
“Rebecca, do you ever rest?”
I would smile and say,
“It is well.”
During school breaks which usually last for one month, Francis came home… but stayed only one week. Every morning he would come to my food shop, eat quietly, check his phone, then go back home and at the end of the week, he packs his bag and return to Nsukka.
“Assignments are too much,” he would say.
I believed every word.

Years passed like this until he completed his four-year program.
But my body paid the price.
The heavy loads and constant hawking damaged my knees. My steps changed slightly. Sometimes I limped, but I never complained.
Then came his convocation at UNN.
He called me one evening and said gently,
“Rebecca…My convocation is next week but transport is expensive. Maybe you should stay back with the children.”

I agreed to leave the children at home to reduce cost but something inside me refused to miss the day my sweat had built.
I told him quietly,
“I have suffered for this degree too. I will be there.”
On the day of the ceremony, I wore my best Ankara gown, simple but neat. The UNN campus was full of proud families, laughter, and flashing cameras.

When Francis saw me, surprise crossed his face… followed by something I could not explain.
Then I saw Winnie.
Tall. Elegant. Expensive clothes. Confidence that filled the air. She stood very close to him, laughing loudly, touching his arm freely.
During group pictures, she suddenly looked at me and asked him jokingly,
“Francis… is this your elder sister?”
My heart froze.
Francis laughed awkwardly… but didn’t correct her immediately.
He simply smiled and moved us into another picture.
That moment felt like a quiet knife entering my chest.

From that day, little changes began.
More late-night calls. More silence. Less affection.
After NYSC, he got a good job with help from Winnie’s father, though he insisted she was just “a friend.” We moved into a better house. I thought life was finally rewarding our sacrifices.

Until one evening…
At my food shop, two women were whispering.
“Her husband… didn’t he secretly marry one fine graduate girl? And she's here working her life out....”
My hands started shaking.
That night when he returned home, I held his shirt tightly.
“Francis… who is Winnie to you? Did you have a secret wedding with her?”
He looked irritated.
I cried, begging him to remember our journey, our children, our struggle.
His voice turned cold.
“Rebecca… I need someone my level for where I am going. You won’t understand this life.”
The words shattered me.

I held him, crying, asking him to look into my eyes, to remember the woman who carried his future on her back.
Instead…
He slapped me.
Hard.
The room went silent except for the sound of my children crying.
He pulled his shirt from my hands and walked out of the house without looking back.

That night, I sat alone on the cold floor, my knees aching and my children sleeping beside me, their small hands wrapped around my wrapper like they were afraid I might disappear too.
The house felt empty… but my heart was louder than the silence.
I replayed every sacrifice, every 3a.m morning, every heavy load on my head, every promise Francis once made while holding my hands and calling me his future.
Tears ran down my face until there were no more left to cry.

And somewhere between my broken sobs and whispered prayers… something unexpected happened.
A strange peace settled quietly inside my chest.
Not the peace of someone who had won…
but the calm of someone whose story was not finished.

Because while Francis walked away that night believing he had ended my place in his life…
he didn’t know that heaven had already started writing a new chapter, one that would unfold in ways neither of us could imagine… a chapter that would change both of our lives forever.

The Price Of His Dreams - 1
To be continued…

Ayosam Mayowa Evelyn

29/01/2026

DIVINE REVERSAL: YOUR VICTORY IS IN MOTION

When doors seem closed and promises delayed, remember this: God is still working. What looked like defeat is becoming the stage for divine intervention. Pressure was not punishment it was positioning.

Delays are turning into strategy. Opposition is becoming elevation. What was meant for harm is being transformed into testimony.

Hidden battles strengthened your authority. Silent seasons deepened your roots. Nothing you endured was wasted.

Chains are breaking. False judgments are being overturned. Destiny is being released.

The Lord declares:
“What was meant to destroy will elevate.
What was meant to silence will announce.
What was delayed will accelerate.”

The reversal has begun. The shift is happening. Breakthrough is near.

Stand firm. Expect it. Receive it.
This season is unstoppable.

27/01/2026

IF YOU CHANGE YOUR ATTITUDE YOU WILL CHANGE YOUR ALTITUDE

Meeting Mr Tawa changed my story. Growing up in the dusty streets of Chikangwe Township in Karoi, had been made to believe am the worst creation under the sun. Admittedly had a big forehead, but the abuse l got at home and at school was unbearable. Being told unechiguma was my daily bread. At primary school hardly a day passed without someone making fun of my forehead with some going to the extent of drawing it on blackboard. Was often scared to look at the blackboard after break because most of the times they would have drawn it taenda ku break. At Secondary school it was the same so generally l grew up a loner and God was really gracious as l was intelligent.

Things took a nasty turn after A level when a trusted family friend r***d me and l got pregnant. The guy protested his innocence and insisted on his story after several probing and in the end no one believed my story. The guy, will be the first to admit, was a Saint who wouldn't hurt an ant at least in the eyes of us all, so for someone to accept what he said was obvious so the conclusion was l just wanted to use him as a bait so was chased away from home and asked to go to the one who impregnated me.

Met a good Samaritan who took me in took care of my child sent me to University. After my undergraduate l went for my Master's and graduated as the best student.

Several suitors along the way were coming but never really gave them a chance as l thought no one will genuinely love me ne chiguma changu. Was preoccupied with raising my child and my career path as an Insurer. A trusted friend referred me to Mr Tawa a counselor.

Mr Tawa was a slime guy who had a cheeky smile such that at first sight you will take him for an unrepentant cassanova. Munhu aiganza and would beat his chest saying my wife is the most blessed woman under the sun, what more do you need from a Husband. Some doubted his marriage counseling prowess as they say his fare face made him a big suspect of those counselors who turn around and go for your wife after hearing of your marital challenges. He was of Gumbo totem which worsened matters as Ana Madyirapazhe are known for going for 'recoveries'. It is said Ana Madyirapazhe were Chiefs so vaiti after presiding over a marital issue they would then go for the wife behind the husband's back that's which they were called Ana Chitova nedzevamwe.

As l waited for my turn sitting in the sitting room,l heard him advise a certain couple in his home office "challenge yenyu you have a counter attraction and you say your husband is not serious. The people who seem to admire you sending you nice messages after wa poster pa social media doesn't mean they love you. Marriage is like a ball you play together. If the other part is not interested you play him the ball. Marriage is never boring you play the game till he gets in the groove. You said if l come he doesn't welcome me romantically, why not say as you walk in, oh my love come and give me a big hug and you kiss him. You say we never walk together in the hood, why not say my love let's go to the shops or to see a friend in the neighborhood. You say he does send pleasantries why not start him like today you gonna be in trouble, am fired up. You say he doesn't go with you out why not say today we are going out just the two of us my love, am sure haarambe.

The biggest challenge in marriage institutions we have too many options or counter attractions that's why we don't work on our marriages. If you take your marriage as an institution which only has an entrance door without an exit door you will do all you can to make things work. If you put divorce in the equation you feel like l can walk away and have a 'fresh' start. If you know he is all you have, you will work around his weaknesses and come up with something exciting. Instead of complaining about things just do what you want, you say he doesn't coddle with you why not go and sit on his lap or put your head on his lap and say please chikwenyewo ndirikuvaviwa munzeve or something. Why not say please help me need to do sit ups so hold my legs. He is all you have for crying out loud. Start holding his hand than say he doesn't hold my hand as we walk. How came someone say he doesn't want selfies when all you need to do is to Hold camera muri mese and have the pics you so much love. Being married does not mean things come on a silver platter, no some things are instigated. Lay on the bed and say l need a massage than telling all who care to listen his shortcomings.

Shortcomings are rather areas you need to work on yourself to put him in the groove. Instead of saying he doesn't comment on my dressing or hairdo why not start by saying how do you see my new hair style, my new outfit. You can't go to a party and you sit in the corner and say it was boring. No others actually danced the night away and say that was the best party ever, than not being participative and you complain. That couple yakazobuda but had also been helped. It's true kuti panorairwa mwana wamambo muranda teerera, l learnt how people just need things to be presented to them than working together for the desired.

So when my turn came l went in and told Mr Tawa my life history and categorically told him kuti no one loves me because of my big forehead.

No no no no no, hell no. Who told you, you are ugly. What people say may be factual kuti your forehead is big but that means nothing. Celebrate the person you are and stand in front of the mirror everyday telling the person you see in that mirror, you are special, you are amazing they gonna fall on each other for you. What happened in your life should never determine where you go. Look Rihanna, she has a big forehead but beautiful so what are you saying.

Never exalt your insecurities and kick your heels over something which cannot be changed. Embrace it that you have a big forehead but Celebrate the person you are than cry yourself to sleep wishing your circumstances were different. You certainly have not been in a serious relationship not because they ain't seing you, no, but you elbowed them before they came, wakavaisira gokora. Humans notice it if your look says please don't go any further.

Start posting yourself on social media, build your confidence back. Improve your inter personal relationships and you are good. Love is a mystery, you can never be sure about what the next person likes. You were r***d, no one believed your story even the people you trusted, that's it, never be bitter because bitterness affects the person crying it not where its directed. Nechiguma chako ichocho say am the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus who loves me.

Keep smiling and the right person will come who will literally be worshipping the ground you step and you will pinch yourself kuti hezvo ndotodiwawo kudai. The most powerful person under the sun is never the most educated, beautiful or intelligent person nor the wealthiest person, rather a person who knows their worth. A person who says my frame or make will never be define who l am and what l will achieve in life, a person who steps out in confidence as if the own the world. If you let people define who you are, you certainly become the weakest person because you will be defined by what they say and be at their mercy. Being unique should be celebrated than mocked.

Mr Tawa said he is very much motivated by Steve Harvey who said " you have to start expecting great things to happen for you inorder for for it to happen. If you live your life in despair that happens to you. If you say all men are gogs you gonna meet every last one of them. If you say l will never be rich you won't be. The moment you change the frequency of what your tower emits different things happen to you.lf you change your attitude you will change your altitude". That was really powerful. I thanked Mr Tawa for the counselling.

When l got out of that house was really determined and the more l declared looking at myself in the mirror the more l was confident. I realised that a great deal of what we see depends on what you are looking for. I was looking for beauty and l saw it. For sure by the 3rd month had met Bensen the person who loves me as if l produce the oxygen he breath. We had met at a pharmacy and exchanged numbers. So hanzi na Bensen what attracted to me the most was your confidence and honesty because when l phoned you, the first statement was, " woooow thanx so much for calling, was really waiting for it and would have been disappointed if you hadn't phoned". Hanzi na Bensen that really settled it because someone honest, who is not shy to say,'l was missing you' is the one l was looking for.

Yes with my big forehead am to the good. Wasted my time thinking l wasn't up to scratch but now have my mining magnet husband, a boy marrying a single mother who grew up by mocked and reminded how big my forehead was. Yes grace found me and lbthank God for my forehead because Bensen bumped on me and never let me go out of his life.

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16/01/2026

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Dear Women in Marriage,

I wish to share my story as a testimony to all of you walking through this sacred journey called marriage.
My name is Sofia, I am 39 years old, a divorcee after 13 years of marriage, and a mother of three beautiful children, two boys and one girl.

I got married when I was 23 years old. At that time, I was young, inexperienced, and too naïve to fully understand what marriage truly meant. My husband was a good man of caring, home-loving, and responsible. Yet, in my youthful ignorance, I mistook my desire for freedom as strength, not realizing that marriage itself requires maturity, patience, and understanding.

By the age of 31, I already had three children. Life became a routine of motherhood and house management to caring for my husband, tending to the children, and ensuring everything ran smoothly.
Two of my children were already in school, and the youngest was under the care of our nanny. I finally had some freedom to move around, go shopping, and do things on my own.

Then, one ordinary evening while shopping, something happened that changed my entire life.
As I reached for an item, I felt a gentle touch from behind. Turning back, I saw a man smiling warmly at me. He greeted me politely, and we exchanged a few words. He was charming, well-spoken, and carried himself with confidence. When I was done shopping, he insisted on paying my bill and walked me to the car. I felt seen, admired, and appreciated.

Later that evening, I couldn't stop thinking about him. His kindness reminded me of what my marriage had been missing or at least what I thought it was missing. Two days later, he texted me, asking if we could meet for coffee. I agreed. We talked for hours.
He was attentive, understanding, and seemed to say everything a lonely woman longs to hear. By the end of our conversation, he suggested we go somewhere private to continue talking. I didn't resist. We booked a room, and that evening, everything changed.

The intimacy we shared made me feel alive again.
But what I didn't realize was that moment of pleasure would cost me everything I had built for years. When I went back home, I started comparing him to my husband. His words, his touch, even his presence.
Suddenly, my husband felt boring, weak, and unfulfilling. I began to avoid him and withheld intimacy, believing that the man I had met was what I truly needed.

Our affair continued until the man I was seeing asked me to leave my husband so that we could start a new life together. Blinded by emotions and lust, I caused fights at home and finally walked out of my marriage, believing I was walking into happiness.

Today marks three years since I left my home. But I can tell you this from the bottom of my heart — there is nothing special out here to celebrate.
The man I left my husband for turned out to be nothing close to the man I abandoned. After just three months of living together, he began coming home late, avoiding me, and entertaining other women. He even started reminding me that I had children with another man. The same person who once made me feel wanted began to make me feel worthless.

I have suffered greatly for the choice I made that evening in that shopping mall. I lost my home, my husband, my children's respect, and my peace of mind, all for a moment that was never worth it.

Dear women, if you are married, please value your marriage.
Do not be deceived by attention, flattery, or momentary pleasure.
The man who can make you a wife is far better than the one who can only make you a girlfriend.
If you have challenges, work on them. If you feel lonely, talk about it. But never destroy your home because of what looks exciting outside. It fades quickly.

I don't know if my husband will ever forgive me, but I've made peace with God and with myself. My story is not to seek sympathy, but to warn and guide others who may be standing where I once stood.

Learn from me. Protect your marriage. Value your husband. And above all, guard your heart.

With love and truth,

23/12/2025

No holiday break from great taste!!! We're open throughout the holiday season from 8am to 5pm .....

15/12/2025

MARRIAGE ACCORDING TO DRUM MASTER Looking at the chemistry of that couple—the intimacy the husband had with his children, the joy in that house despite their poverty—I couldn’t help but think, If happiness could be bought, I’d buy what they had. We never had that kind of warmth in our home. Everything about them echoed Psalm 133: “How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity.” I Agreed we have all the good things which money can buy but that joy we saw at Drum Master’s house, in their poverty stricken state was something we lacked and needed in our house.

We had a tyre puncture with hubby on our way from Karoi at Mlichi. The guy came out to help us change the tyre but it began to rain heavily so that he invited us into his home.The way they interacted as a couple was such a joy to witness. The wife affectionately called him “Drum Master,” which we were told was his title at The Salvation Army, he was the one who played the drum. That day, the husband had brought her matohwe (wild loquats), and she responded by showering him with clan praises:“Oooh, that’s what Drum Master has brought! Thank you so much, my dear. What would I be without you? Maita Madyirapazhe, Chitova nedzevamwe, Maita Sambiri, Chipazhamongo…

”It was truly beautiful to watch.Then Drum Master responded with equal warmth:“What would I be without you too, Manjenjenje, ganda revasikana?”42Honestly, even when my husband bought me a car, I didn’t go all out praising him like that!Yaa, surely gratitude is a spirit. Someone who has it will be thankful even for the smallest gestures, while someone who lacks it will still sulk, even if someone robs a bank to spoil them.The family was incredibly generous. The wife cooked chicken with muboora une dovi, and it was perfectly prepared.

Drum Master and the kids played together in the kitchen hut while Madam cooked, in such a way that you could even start reflecting on your own shortcomings. Honestly, I can’t even remember the last time my husband had such an intimate, playful moment with our kids. Even when we go out for a braai as a family, most of the time everyone is glued to their phones. When we go out for pizza, the kind of closeness and warmth that this family displayed is simply not there.

They talked about church, Sunday school, and the kids were joyfully reciting memory verses they would present at church the next day. It was beautiful and humbling to witness.Even a blind person could tell that the environment at that house was saturated with joy. The way the wife knelt down serving us food, the way their kids would help out washing our hands and cleaning up the place after the meal was too good to be true. You could tell that our kids were a spoilt lot because the sadza was prepared by their daughter, who we learnt was in grade 4, yet our form 3 daughter can’t be trusted to cook sadza for visitors.

I could tell that even my husband Patrick was intrigued by them because even long after the rains had ceased we stayed long as they made tea and sweet potatoes haaa chokwadi, you can be taught how life ought to be by someone has never seen the door of a classroom but has mastered the game of what life. We stayed behind while the husbands went to change the tyres. The wife was busy ironing church uniforms for the whole fami-43ly. I honestly couldn’t even remember the last time I had ironed clothes for my own family.She was so hilarious, I nearly cracked my ribs from laughing when she said, “Today is Saturday, and that’s Drum Master’s day, because we usually have business between the sheets on days that don’t start with a ‘T’.”I asked her what the logic was behind that, and she replied, “So that we’re not consumed by work and forget to be intimate.

If you know there’s a set day, you’ll prepare for it, no excuses.”Hey, what an intelligent answer!When I thought about my own bedroom life with Patrick, things felt like a drag. Sometimes we’d go for a whole week without being intimate. I made a mental note, and then it hit me: only two days in a week start with a “T”, Tuesday and Thursday. Meaning they had it a whopping five times a week! Aaah!It would probably be a non-starter for me, but when you really think about it, those women from kumusha work even harder than us who do office jobs, yet they still have all that fire in the bedroom. Meanwhile, we blame our sluggishness on so-called fatigue.They later returned, and it was time for us to leave.

Patrick gave the family $500, and they were so overwhelmed with gratitude that they almost fainted. They went out of their way to thank us, and the kids immediately started budgeting out loud. One said they needed a bicycle, another said they wanted new clothes. But as we drove off, it felt like we had been given serious homework.One thing was clear: despite all the delicacies we enjoy, the holidays we go on, the multiple cars in our garage, and the fat bank accounts, we lacked what Drum Master’s family had: a true family unit.44Even during the drive, we sat in silence, as we often use different cars, and that bond had slowly faded. Patrick, too, was never really present for the kids. Most weekends, he would be out drinking with friendsWhen I got home, I was determined to change everything I could and rekindle the flame on the prayer altar that had long grown cold. I started cooking for my husband, ironing his clothes, and even choosing his outfits for the day.

I had previously left the task of making our bed to the house help, but I changed all that and began taking my responsibilities as a wife seriously. I started serving him food from a kneeling position, something I had once sworn I would never do. We began bathing together as a way to bond, and before long, we found ourselves talking more openly and reconnecting emotionally. We also decided to start using one car to go to work, and that small change did wonders for our communication. Even our bedroom life came back to life. While we couldn’t quite manage Drum Master’s legendary five times a week, we comfortably reached three, and it made a huge difference. I came to realize that sometimes, we as women unknowingly push our husbands away through our attitudes and neglect of the small things that matter in a relationship.I banned the use of phones whenever we went out for braais or pizza, so we could focus on each other and be more present.

My daughters, who used to handle supper every day despite their school schedules, were now being relieved as we all began sharing responsibilities more intentionally. We started praying together as a family, and I could see Patrick beginning to genuinely engage with his children, something that had previously felt foreign in our home. It was also clear that he had let go of his philandering ways. There were no more secretive phone calls or moments where he’d answer a call and step outside. Weekends, which he used to spend with his friends, were now family time, and for the first time in a long while, we were truly together45I realized that many wealthy couples have money but lack intimacy. The devil had managed to steal our joy and the bond that holds marriages together. Now, we truly enjoy each other’s company. I especially love when Patrick talks with our eldest daughter, who is at university, about finding a husband she loves and warns her about the tricks that some boys play. We now attend church together as a family since Patrick gave his life to Christ. We often call Ana Drum Master, and we plan to go on holiday with them to Victoria Falls, as they taught us what marriage should be. Our marital joy was restored by the Lord. The devil never rests when he sees you enjoying your marriage and family, even when you have money. Glory to God, my marriage was restored.

18/11/2025

Powerful

Do you think Israel was clapping when David was anointed?
Saul wasn’t celebrating he was seething.
The generals weren’t rejoicing they were whispering.
The palace didn’t prepare a throne it prepared a spear.

Because when God marks a man, it doesn’t always look like promotion;
sometimes it looks like persecution in disguise.

God’s oil does not silence warfare
it summons it.

Elevation is not only honor;
it is also hostility.
When heaven selects you, hell scans you.

David didn’t just wear anointing oil
he wore a bullseye.

Every calling carries its own battlefield.
That’s why the wise don’t only shout when the oil flows
they sharpen their discernment.

God’s promise doesn’t negate warfare.
It activates it.
The anointing is the permission for pressure.

12/11/2025

FATE POSITIONED MY LIFE PARTNER

I could tell the lady at the other table was also waiting for someone. Linda had kept me waiting saying still at work. It had been an hour now and the lady opposite my table had also stayed longer as l found her at that Nandos 7th street. She was innpensive mood as she constantly looked at the entrance just like me. We were both getting impatient as we both would look at the time on our phones and the doorway. When it was almost clear no one was coming, had to gather all strength and went with my drink to her table and said maybe we were meant to be on a blind date together kkkkkk. We both had a great laugh. She conceded that her man had kept her that long. Ini had to tell Linda am going yet needed time with this Glenda . Her pal had to apologise kuti he can't make it any longer.

It later turned out to be the best date ever. Yaa Glenda was a free spirit and completely divorced from the holier than thou church girls. After the meal she invited me for coffee to her house just near town in Belvedere. Yaa sure the next girl would have thought its embarassing to invite a person you have just met to your house especially as a lady as it might appear you are desperate. But Glenda was another type wekuti haamhanye to judge people nor to think ill of someone. After the cappuccino coffee fiesta akati we are that type who take something cold after coffee and she brought cups of Great Flavours Ice Cream. Ndakamboti no this can't be after coffee but she assured me kuti you will thank me later. Aaah that ice cream was something else , and had to sample the Chocolate and Caramel flavours. It really was the first time to taste the brand but was impressed. Had to take one for the road, and must admit, it was a great night. Looked at the time when l drove off , it was 11:30 pm. Ndichisvika kumba Glenda phones and we talked for over 2 hours again, thank God it was a Friday.

The next day l asked her about where l could get Great Flavours Ice cream akati will be waiting for you at their Mbuya Nehanda outlet. Parked my car next to hers and ordered my lot so had to dash home to put the loot into my fridge, so takaenda tese in my car asiya yake pa Great Flavours outlet. The funny thing is we were now both giving excuses to our current lovers why we couldn't be with them. With Glenda it was just 'what the doctor ordered'. She had a tooth gap so each time she burst into laughter you would be forgiven to think rapture is upon us. You would wonder who would keep such an amazing personality waiting for hours on end and not pitch at the end. We really felt were in wrong hands.

Took her by hand as l showed, her the house. She went ballistic when l got to the main bedroom and said this is your bedroom. As a free spirit akati you need to revamp the shower of the ensuite before she came kkkkkkk. That was Glenda for you. We then watched a soccer match together till azoti she wanted tongo for her Praise Team rehearsal so had to drive her to her car in town. We stood outside our cars for a further 30 minutes as non was willing to let go and walk away. She was that type you wonder, where she was all the while. She was different to Linda kuti she had a flourishing career and was that type who didn't see marriage as a leap into being a landlord. She had a house of her own so aisavhunduka kuti l owned a house also.

Sunday after church she invited me to Gava Restaurant and she paid for the food something which most girls wouldn't do even with same income. Taakuenda she held my hand tightly and said James, James, where were you hiding all the while. I could see the tears in her eyes akating just broke up with my guy l know the feeling is the same l hope you won't turn around and be the animal l never saw. Her cologne was something else you could hug her the whole day smelling that wonder perfume.

The handwriting was on the wall for me to end my time with Linda. When l called time on my relationship with Linda she never protested much to my joy only to be shocked a week later kuti akaroorwa. In as much as had moved on, cursed myself for not having picked it earlier kuti she was with someone. It turned out both our lovers really took us for granted as her previous lover also married another lady a month later. Cursed myself for hanging on to a loveless relationship but was glad kuti Fate would have it Glenda was positioned by God for me. Yakazongoita 2 months then marriage and a week later tge wedding bells rang and am glad of that day when Linda failed to show up. God can order your steps for real and put you in the hands of an amazing person.

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