The Chair of Oshikama Combat
499 Words
Chidinma was sitting in her sunlit Lagos studio, sipping zobo and scrolling through i********: between brand meetings when she saw it.
Ademide.
Crying.
On camera.
Talking about her... their story… his mistakes.
She blinked. Paused. Watched it again.
This wasn’t a trend. This wasn’t fake repentance. This… was growth.
She chuckled, shook her head, and sent him a voice note.
> “Ah ah. Chairman of Oshikama Combat. So you finally got sense, ehn?”
> She laughed again.
> “You dey talk sense now o. But listen, since you're already giving hot TED Talks on women matter, I hope that your new wife is not at home folding wrapper like boiled plantain. Make the babe go learn skill o, open shop, start online hustle—anything. If not, na real thorn-in-the-flesh package you go collect.”
It was the most Chidinma thing to say—direct, funny, and wise.
Ademide smiled when he played the message. He laughed with a kind of softness he hadn’t felt in a long time.
And he listened.
He sat down with his second wife—Amina—and had the first real conversation of their marriage. No pride. No pressure. Just vulnerability.
“I don’t want to control you,” he told her. “I want us to grow. Let’s find something you love—and build it.”
Amina cried.
Not because of the words—but because no one had ever believed in her like that before.
With time, she found her passion in fashion and handmade accessories. Ademide helped her launch her first online store. She wasn’t loud like Chidinma, but she was sharp, creative, and determined. And with Ademide’s support—not control—she blossomed.
Together, they had three beautiful children.
Their home was simple. But full of laughter, teamwork, and late-night talks—not just about bills and babies, but dreams and goals.
Still, Ademide never forgot.
He never forgot the woman who challenged his thinking, held up a mirror to his flaws, and walked away so he could learn.
In honor of that transformation, he wrote a book.
Title:
🖤 "The Man Who Tried to Dim the Sun: How I Almost Lost Everything Because of Ego"
It became a bestseller.
Not because he was a writer.
But because he was honest.
He shared his childhood, his marriage, his mistakes, and how culture had almost buried his purpose. He spoke in conferences, men’s retreats, and schools—urging young boys and men to unlearn control and embrace growth.
He ended every speech the same way:
> “When you marry a powerful woman, don’t compete with her.
Plug into that power.
Because kings don’t dim queens.
They build empires—together.”
---
And though his life took a different route...
He never stopped praying for Chidinma.
He never stopped being grateful.
And every time he saw her name trending online, he smiled quietly and whispered:
> “Thank you… for letting me go.”
- Writer
