Sayo VI

It’s the 6th part of Sayo!!! I have written and rewritten many of these entries, but I’ve decided that progress is more important than perfection. So we’re making progress! Please let me know your thoughts! And share it with a friend who’s never read anything on here…. They can start here with Sayo 1

Alsoooo, I know the Akaa and Alima fans out there want me to get on with that too – Sooon! Keep me in your hearts and prayers. If you wanna be a fan of that too, check out Akaa & Alima!

Love,

Elise

July 9^th

KB bought me this journal today. It is a beautiful dark brown leatherbound book that ties up to close. He said his feelings and thoughts are often louder than his words, so when he was twelve, he was advised to write out all he couldn’t say. So maybe whenever I feel too overwhelmed, I could write. I think twelve must have been when his dad got sick.

I know he got me this because of last week. I still get embarrassed thinking about it. I still wonder what was going on in his head. When I asked, he smiled genuinely at me, and said, in that quiet way of his, “I was scared, Sayo. I just wanted you back, and I wanted to help, but I didn’t know how. I felt so useless to you!”

I don’t know how to convey to him that he helped me more than he could have thought possible. More than anyone has helped me on this journey with anxiety and depression. Even writing this feels somewhat cathartic, and it was because of him.

I agreed to come here with KB because I knew that Ghana has always calmed me. Calmed me in a way even Nigeria never did – but then, I’ve had very few memories in Nigeria. The air in Ghana felt different when I visited. The people were different, the food was different, and none of it could ever compare to the US. I’d also missed Aunty Kehinde and the fam, and I knew I needed a break.

So when we touched down, and it didn’t feel like it used to years ago, I wondered if I was broken. Instead of excitement or relief, it felt like I’d just carried all my burdens to a different country. And somehow, that unraveled me. I can’t quite explain it, but I just couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t stop reliving the trauma that has shaped me into this woman… this outwardly seemingly confident woman who was always mentally looking over her shoulder, constantly second-guessing herself.

The last time I really felt like this—before KB—was in the last few months with Odion, after having our son. I think my body knew I needed to escape that situation. It lasted maybe three days. But I’ll never forget Odion’s words. He called me an “attention-seeking witch.” He didn’t say it loudly enough for my mother, downstairs with the baby, to hear. Of course, there were other words too—all whispered with so much derision—but those are the ones that stayed with me: attention-seeking witch.

July 12^th

KB’s mother is lovely. She is just as calm and quiet as her son. And her expressions speak just as much as his do. I don’t think either of them will be any good at a poker game. But then again, I’m not exactly great at it either.

I know KB told her we’re friends, but we’ve slept together in his room since I got here. It’s funny because I know my mother would never! 

We took a walk in their neighborhood this evening to get some kebabs… suya, – which he called ‘Chichinga’. She introduced me to all the neighbors as KB’s girlfriend. And he and I would share a look whenever she made an intro. I like her a lot. She asks intrusive questions in a way that makes them seem funny. If my mother knew KB, she’d ask him point blank if he was ready to be a stepfather. She’d ask him if he knew that I was divorced and tell him that I’m too old to play boyfriend-girlfriend games. She would probably look at him deadpan and tell him I’m damaged goods. Sometimes, I wonder if my mother ever wanted more kids. I wonder if she and I have this weird relationship because it’s just me… She’s told me in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t approve of my life’s choices, of me as a person. But why? 

July 16^th

It’s been so long since I was this happy, and I keep thinking that there must be something going to happen – when will the other boot fall? I heard myself laugh the other day – genuine laughter that wasn’t made up, and it startled me. It was over one of the kids in the compound trying to chase a chicken. 

I went to the Makola market with KB’s mother and sister Janina, which also had me in stitches. I’d seen my mother haggle prices with market women, I’d seen aunty Kehinde do it – it wasn’t something new. But KB’s mother did it with such calm pomp! She was clearly known by all the other women, and she was obviously adding some flare for my sake. But it was a lot of fun, all the sweat and walking aside.

I can’t remember the last time I did something even as mundane as shopping with my mother. She and I no longer talk much. We were not too close to begin with. But according to her, “Divorce is not for children of God, and certainly not for my child.” Never mind that I was near suicidal by the time I was actually leaving Odion. I remember wondering if she’d have preferred my corpse over my divorce. Dad did not have an opinion. He was happy to have me happy. He was a man of few words. Those few words though, always delivered the impact they needed to. I miss him a lot. And I hate that my relationship with Mama and my reeling mind makes it so hard for me to go home often.

July 17^th

Today, I sat down and thought about Odion. I decided that if I could think about him on my own terms, then maybe thoughts of him wouldn’t sneak up on me and have me gasping or in a tizzy. So I thought about him deliberately. I remember asking what his name meant. Because somewhere in Edo, Nigeria,  firstborn twins are called Odion. My mother liked him for that reason. A Nigerian “oyibo”. That’s what she called him. And it made me wonder, because she certainly didn’t want me dating an Edo man… but she had no problem with a white man with an Edo-sounding name. 

I thought about the first few months of our marriage, how young and naïve I was, thinking I had struck gold. Then I thought about his affairs, the humiliation of knowing he was out there with other women, yet remaining quiet, letting him touch me. I remembered how I thought having his child would make a difference. How shattered I was when I realized it really would not change him. I remembered the day I finally decided it was all enough. The day I let him know I was done. How he gaslighted me into thinking everything was in my head. How we went to ‘report’ me to my mother. I remembered the fear when I realized he was going to go after my career – the one thing I had going, independent of him!

Then, I thought about the very first full breath I took when the divorce was finalized. How I looked at Remilekun and thought, your father is an ogre. But he’s an ogre we no longer have to deal with. Oh how wrong I was! 

Then I remembered how light I felt when I made it to Chicago. That free feeling of being alone with yourself and your thoughts. The thrill of building a community not stained with the legacy of a toxic relationship.

Then I remembered the fear that gripped my heart when Odion showed up in Chicago. How he almost destroyed KB and I. 

After all that thinking, I realize that I really do not know what he wants from me. Does he just want me forever tethered to him? Always needing him in some capacity? Or does he just want to hurt me forever? I hate him. But I need to get to a point where he does not bother me anymore. It’s been too long – he cannot hold my heart and mind in limbo forever. I cannot allow that. 

August 1^st  

I woke up today with a terrible headache! My heart was full, but my head and mouth were fuzzy. KB and I spent last night acting like twenty-one-year-olds! We met a few of his friends at a bar and drank ourselves into a stupor. And danced and danced and danced some more. Then we got home, and we made love. And I don’t think we were quiet enough. Because his mother gave me a very knowing look this morning. I was so embarrassed, it made my face feel hot. But she just laughed and walked away.

He and his mother are a joy to watch. They act like siblings, but it’s clear how much he regards her. She was cleaning out her closet today and so was putting on a fashion show for us– to know which to keep and which to give out and which to toss. For a woman well into her sixties, she has a lovely physique. I wonder if it would have made a difference at all if my mother were like this. Unbothered, constantly laughing, happy with me.

August 3^rd

Their whole family goes to church! Willingly. I don’t know why I’m shocked at this – my parents are very pro church. My whole family has always been. But I suppose with time and age, and talk and scorn, I left and never went back. KB’s family has no qualms. Everyone wakes up and dresses up and just goes… they have extended family that go there too, so it’s like a big joyous family reunion at church. I almost did not go. Almost. And he said it was fine. But I didn’t want to sit alone with my thoughts for three hours. I’m happy I went. I guess it’s proof that the whole church thing can be real – and that there are good ones out there. When I told KB, he smiled that half smile of his, and said “There are good ones of everything out there. You just really have to look.” I can’t help but think he was talking about us. He and I. Do I believe there aren’t good men out there? I know there are – KB is almost perfect. But what if I am not worthy of this good man? What if I am not worthy of good people? I didn’t ask him that of course. But I think it often. Doesn’t he deserve better? 

August 5^th

Sometimes, my heart feels so heavy. So heavy that even tears refuse to fall. Sometimes I just need silence… the silence seems to keep my heart afloat. I had this silence in my heart all morning and was on the couch watching KB and his mother banter as usual when she startled me with a remark on marriage. “So when will you two get married and make me a grandmother?” KB’s eyes immediately shot to mine. He had a playful look on his face. And it hit me. He wasn’t fighting her on this or questioning her about it, he didn’t even seem bothered by the question – he wants to be married to me?? I don’t know what my face looked like in that moment, but my heart sped up, and all the old thoughts started to resurface. I have no plans of ever getting remarried! So I told him later, when we were getting ready for bed, that I would never get married. He looked startled for a second, then his eyes looked sad, and then he told me he was not Odion. I know he isn’t Odion, but people change. And Odion didn’t start out bad. Or was he always that way? Maybe marriage just brings out the bad in people. And it is not something I can ever bring myself to willingly get back into. 

August 6^th

We visited Aunty Kehinde today. She’s always been so dramatic! My mother’s drama has a subdued passive aggressiveness to it, Aunty Kehinde has a passion to her drama. I cannot tell how often I wished she were my mother when I was growing up. 

She liked KB. She never really liked Odion, but I remember attributing it to how little she knew of him. She met him just once before we got married. 

“Omo mi, you brought home a Ghanaian giant!” were her first words after screaming around the compound. I was shocked that my mother did not mention she’d had another child! It just reminded me how long it had been since I went home and how much longer since I spoke to my family. Dada and I talked. But our calls were always short – he only called to check on me. To see if I was alive, I suppose. In the past, before I stopped calling my mother or answering her calls, our phone calls were mostly of her telling me about the stable marriages of her friends’ children and the children they were raising in happy homes. At first, I would indulge her, even though it was painful to listen to. Then, with time, I realized how draining our phone calls were. And how easily they tipped me into even worse melancholy. So I started avoiding her calls and sending texts instead. Lately, our only communication has been on the family group chat that Dada created.

I’m staying here for a few days, and KB says he might stay with me for a bit. It feels as if he wants to make sure I don’t break again. I see the way he looks at me. It’s love, but it’s also caution. It’s also fear, and it breaks my heart that it can’t be just pure love and joy and complete peace. I can’t be peace for him. 

August 9^th

We have two weeks more of this holiday, and already, the anxiety has started to creep back up. The only things I can genuinely say I miss about Chicago are teaching, my bed, and maybe a good coffee. But the thought of returning to the apartment that I’d thought was my refuge, safe from Odion, yet has now been touched by him, has me doing a doubletake. I think KB sensed it. He holds me a little tighter whenever he gets the chance. I love how intuitive he is.

He asked the meaning of my name today. I think he just wanted to get me talking. My first impulse was to give him the short version I usually gave people – Joy. But I told him the real meaning. “God has given me joy.” In high school, I remember being very confused why my parents would give me that name when, really, I didn’t bring them any joy. Dad was proud of me. And mum wanted me to do as she said. But joy was really an exaggeration of any emotion I brought their way. But maybe I did bring them some joy as a baby. Until I didn’t. 

August 14^th

I saw KB get really angry today. It was nothing like that day at his studio. That day, I could tell he was mad at me, but it was as if he just wished he wasn’t mad? I don’t know. Earlier today, one of his uncles visited. He was tense through most of the visit. The man was a bald man with weird mannerisms. He chuckled at odd things and did not look them in the eye. I excused myself because I was uncomfortable and because I figured they would want to have some family time.

After about thirty or so minutes, I was startled by a loud slam. Then, there were raised voices. It was the man… and KB! I returned to the living room, and he was clearly having words with this man. I caught something about how callous the man was, how he’d greedily fought them for his dad’s property, and how his Uncle in Chicago had sent him millions of cedis to build him a house, but he hadn’t even put down a foundation. It wasn’t so much what they were quarreling about – which was bad, as it was his reaction. For a full five minutes, perhaps more, he was so animated, it was as if his sister Janina had replaced him. Then, as if all the fight in him was done, he exhaled deeply and asked his uncle to leave. The man seemed upset about that but he spoke in Ga, so I don’t know what he said. It wasn’t until he left that KB turned and saw me watching him. His eyes were so full of pain, anger, and maybe shame? It was if his rage had blinded him… he looked at me unseeing for a second or two, and then he tried to smile. Then he sat and covered his face with his large hands. Before I could get to him to try to sit with him, he walked right out of the living room, telling me he’d be back. 

He came back after about an hour and apologized for losing control. He told me how that man had hurt his family and tried to drive them out of their father’s house when he died. And how he’d duped his uncle in Chicago and still dared to come make demands. It was clear he didn’t regret sending the man away, his main regret was losing his cool. I love that he is often unruffled, but I am glad he is not passive.

August 19

Today, I made a decision. I’m still coming to terms with it. I know for a fact that KB will hate me for it. I hate myself for it already. But I think it’s a necessary evil. I cannot continue to live a life hushed by my trauma from years ago. And I cannot drag this genuinely good-hearted man into it with me. He has so much life ahead of him, so much life to live. Some undamaged woman deserves the love he has to give. I have to do the work on myself, get to know my son, and build my life where Odion cannot touch me. 

So I’ve decided to stay. 

Aunty Kehinde had mixed feelings about it when I told her, but I told her it would only be for a short while. I haven’t told KB yet. I don’t know how I would. Our flight back is in a few days. I cannot go with him. I cannot waste his time or his life. I have to let him go. And it’s so hard to even think about it. But I love him enough to know that he deserves a sweeping romance that does not have all this drama. I love him, and I want him to be happy. So I have to let him go. 

It’s going to kill me, but I have to let him go.