LIFE OF ADEMIDE

Ademide grew up in a home where silence screamed louder than words. His mother, once a vibrant, ambitious woman, had resigned from her job just months after marrying his father. Not because she wanted to—but because she loved a man who didn't love the idea of her independence. His father, Mr. Ogunlana, believed a woman's place was under her husband's shadow. And if a woman dared to shine brighter, that was a threat. So he dimmed his wife's light, until she faded into the corners of the house, broken, voiceless, and dependent. Ademide watched it all as a child—not understanding, but absorbing. Years passed. Ademide grew into a fine man. Educated, charming, and driven. But beneath that exterior was a deeply rooted belief system planted in him by his father’s example. He never questioned it—it was the only version of marriage he knew. Then came Chidinma. An Igbo girl. Smart, elegant, and undeniably successful. A digital powerhouse, she was a sensation across social media platforms, a brand ambassador, a business coach, and an influencer with millions of followers. Her energy was unmatched. Her smile, magnetic. Her mind? Sharp. She was Igbo through and through—business-minded, focused, and proud of her roots. Ademide was enchanted. He had never met anyone like her. Against all odds, they fell in love and got married in a grand celebration that had the internet buzzing. A Yoruba man and an Igbo woman—it was a cultural fusion, a media sensation. Everyone loved them.Until the honeymoon phase ended... exactly one week later. “Babe,” Ademide said one night, casually. “Now that we’re married, don’t you think it’s time to slow down on all that social media stuff? Maybe resign and focus on the home?” Chidinma blinked, smiled, and laughed it off. “You’re joking, right?” He laughed too. “Just saying...” She didn’t think much of it. But two weeks later, it wasn’t funny anymore. Ademide changed. He became cold. Silent. He avoided conversations, meals, intimacy. His words were few, but his body language screamed rejection. When she asked what was wrong, he said it flatly: “You’re still working. You’re still out there like you’re single. I don’t like it. I don't like women who are more than their husbands.” Chidinma felt her heart drop. “More than you?” she echoed. “Ademide, I built this brand before I met you. I didn’t ask you to stop working. I’ve supported you. Why is my success a problem?” He looked at her with that same look his father once gave his mother. That bitter, insecure look. “I won’t live in a house where my wife is all over the place. Resign. I’m your husband.” It was her turn to go quiet. Later that night, Chidinma sat across from him in the living room. “I don’t think you married me because you loved me,” she said, calmly. “You married me because you thought you could control me like your father did your mother.” Ademide looked up, shocked. “Yes, I’m Igbo. I don’t joke with business. I work hard. I don’t see myself as ‘more than you.’ I just see myself as who I’ve always been—driven. You didn’t marry a shadow. You married light. And now you’re trying to put it out.” Ademide shifted, uncomfortable. “If this is the marriage you want—the one your father had—then I’m not your wife. I won’t resign from my passion just to stroke your ego.” There was a long silence. Ademide realized, in that moment, that he had married a different kind of woman. Not one who would shrink for his comfort, but one who would fight for her purpose. He thought marriage would go the same way his father did. That Chidinma would bow, break, and blend into the background. But she wasn’t his mother. And he wasn't ready for that truth. To be continued....