I FINALLY FIGURED THEM OUT
Iwill break the tradition of beginning forewords with a short history of how I came to write this little ‘book’ that you hold in your hands. I will state instead whom I wrote this book for. In my day job, I develop and sell townhouses — and in twenty years of business I have sold probably 720 units. eighty-five percent of these have been bought from and or sold to women who have become my sisters. This book is for these women, for you Ayona, Bimpe, Adeola, Ruth, Subu, Mo, yinks, Mrs P; and the younger ones, Toyosi, Folake, Nkiru, Aderele, so many of you. Women in my life who have counted me as friend. And most of all this book is for my fellow roller-coaster-rider, habiba “Bibs” Balogun.
The road to this book began with my wanting to write a collection of essays in time for my fiftieth birthday several years ago, (here I must define the word “several” by the dictionary: it means a few, but more than two; I am not that much older than fifty). I would settle down, on a beachfront somewhere — for some reason I pictured a terrace in California, overlooking the Pacific coastline — and I would pen thoughts that had swirled in my head through most of my adult life. I would title this book, I Finally Figured It Out at Fifty. I did write the book. But those essays became little vignettes, one-two-liners, no less profound to me because of their length but short pieces nevertheless. I remember speaking with my dear friend, Muhtar Bakare, and later with Dr eghosa Imasuen, the gentleman who managed his publishing firm, about the book looking nothing like I envisioned it when I started writing. One of them told me that all books were like that, that in fact, someone had once defined a novel as a long piece of prose fiction with something wrong with it. There was nothing to fear. My book was done and published. A few years later, I began another writing project this time titled, I Finally Figured her Out at Fifty, in time for habiba’s birthday. For what it is worth, that book has now become this one.
Why vignettes, why short one-liners? I find with our harried lives—text messages, email, BBM, WhatsApp, phone calls, documents, books, journals, papers, magazines, TV, Apple TV, DSTV, the Almighty Internet—having something that one could flip through in 10 minutes might be appealing. So bite-size quotes became a great idea. My mother said she enjoyed the first book and found it witty, and autobiographical, as if it was sneak peek into my life. I also remember my friend, Anne’s response: “My friend, you are living more, loving more, f&*%$# more.”
So now there is this book in your hand. It is habiba’s book. We have been together for twenty-nine years. understanding her is only partway done, and it is a job that I hope to find uncompleted. I say to her now, my life with you will always be one of discovery, of delight, and that is why I will always interpret your description of our “roller-coaster ride” of life together as one that thrilled, that took us to edge but always brought us home safely, even though you have confirmed that by “rollercoaster” you meant something a tad bit more complicated. This book was meant for your fiftieth, and to honour you is to honour all women.
So why not a ‘book’ on relationships, and the things that anchor them, sex, affection, and money. It is not necessarily about marriage. It is about the subtleties of relationships, the lines that are drawn between love, affection, companionship, sex, friendship, money, and the misfortune of having those lines lead to misery when things just don’t work out.
Woman Whisperer (n) A person (usually male) who seems to have the sixth sense of being able to take women’s feelings and translate them into words that men can understand and create an equal truce between man and woman.
Online urban Dictionary
Am I a woman whisperer? This urban dictionary definition would be recognised by many of my male friends who tease me endlessly about my connection with my sisters. I accept their playful and harmless envy. The words and thoughts that follow are something for my sisters and friends: the young singles, the divorcees, the married, the separated, the never-been-married, the widows, the virgins, the celibate, the remarried, the mistresses. you may see yourself in these pages, you may be able to empathise, or to completely relate; above all this book is for laughing lightly, and reflecting on all the issues that we hate to talk about for fear of appearing dysfunctional. We all are in some way. I hope that I have not been presumptuous to deem myself able to fully understand you guys. But this book is my try. I hope you enjoy reading it.
habiba, you know I only have one name for you; when I am affectionate, annoyed, complaining, playing, venting, it’s always the same. I wish you a very happy 50th year, Bibs. you are coming into your own.
Your GB
This is a foreword of Gbolly’s book, dedicated to his wife, habiba. I found the wit rather interesting. With an excerpt like this, you can only imagine the content in the book. G...you did not mince words, I tell you, thouroughly enjoyed every line! ...THiSDAY Style Executive Editor (Ruth)