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CRIME STORY: ONCE A MURDERER ALWAYS A MURDERER… by Lois | GBAMLOG.COM

He was a nice man, good looking and a church go-er, he was loyal to god as much as he was his wife Ann-Marie. He’s tall, around about 6’2 I’d say, not much meat on his bones but well looked after whether it was by himself or his wife. Tint of dark in his skin and bright green eyes, I could see why Ann-Marie loved him, but his looks wasn’t just who defined him, he would always have a glowing smile that would stand out in the crowd, his voice was one the angels loved to listen to, never a violent side to him, never a bad look in his face.
What made him do it?
Ann-Marie was slightly younger, the 24 year old who always dressed appropriately and was proud to show off her perfect man, every Sunday morning they would walk in to church together, holding hands… smiling and welcoming everyone they walked by, never a day went by that they didn’t show up to church.
On September the 12th 1984, He had turned up to church without his woman at his side, just him, himself and god. Many people fussed around him, “how is your wife?” He was questioned a few times, “she is good, resting at home” he would reply, everyone quickly become suspicious but not long after we was to find out… there was to be a congratulations in order, when Ann-Marie was back on his side but her stomach was much more slightly bloated, straight away people raced over to them both with glowing smiles, some didn’t approve but the ones that did fluttered them with happiness.

“Meeting the murderer” you wouldn’t think it right? You’d expect a jobless man with nothing to loose but him, he had everything to loose.

Months went by and Ann-Marie got bigger, they had broke the news of expecting their baby girl by the begging of June, although it was March and she was getting bigger and having the pregnancy struggles, she still always shown her face in the church. Since we found out, the priest would always have us sing along to a personal good luck song, ensuring our song was heard with the angels and their baby will grow stronger each day. She was looking really good, they started to look a bit more distant but I suppose that is simply what having a baby does. Having a baby plays with your emotions and the way you feel, it’s life and it’s a life growing inside of you which makes it worth it but I don’t think he understood this when she told him she was leaving.
Anger flustered through his mind, he felt overpowered by the woman carrying his daughter, he rang the emergency number, “I’ve stabbed my wife 17 times! She’s lay head on the kitchen floor.” He handed himself in before racing to the kitchen and killing her by stabbing her 17 times like he said. The police later turned up

Weeks went by, it was his trail date, he had admitted to everything and will more than likely plead guilt to murdering his wife and unborn baby. But his solicitor has other plans rather than jail. “I murdered my wife, god has yet to forgive me” head line news all over the paper, will his faith in god let him be a free man?
No he wasn’t a free man, at least not for 18 months he wasn’t. A reduced sentence for the heart felt man he was, his loyalty to god and his guilty plead. Even in prison he never missed a day of praying… did he actually make a mistake? Will god forgive such a violent crime and will he ever forgive himself?

18 months passed, he was back out, his first mission was to go to his community church and ask the community for forgiveness. Many turned him down but many accepted, “thou shalt not kill… but thou shall give forgiveness when asked” the priest responded before shaking his hand, “welcome back, Darius” he welcomed before walking through to the front of the church where the priest then repeated loudly, “thou shall give forgiveness when asked” most clapped and agreed but others had over opinions, “thou shall not covet” a voice shallowly but confidently shouted from the other side of the church, low silence claps of agreements follow.

Months went on and the ones who didn’t forgive started to accept he is a member of their community and he does have the same love for god as they share. He was welcomed to sit where he pleased without the funny looks and the quiet judging, he felt normal again but obviously his wife and child wasn’t there, but that is something he is to live with for the rest of his life.

Years went on, all had been forgotten until one day, he was welcomed into a church holding the hand of a new loved one, her children followed behind them. She introduced herself, “Janet” to everyone to welcomed her, not a word of Ann-Marie was spoken but did she know she was allowing a murderer into her life?

REALITY CLASSIC TALE: LOVE? OR SLAVERY? By Hilary Chikuvira | GBAMLOG.COM


“If you are not going to be a girlfriend and wife, who is submissive, who follows the lead of a husband, then we got to deal with this now, because no wife of mine will rule my house, give me orders or go to a separate church from mine!”, said Tendai fuming, his voice was shaking from anger, l could see he was totally charged up and no longer caring to select his choice of words.
I was also fed up myself, and l retorted angrily, “fine, if you want me to be that kind of a wife and fiancée, then to hell with it, what are we even doing now? Let’s not waste each other’s time anymore. Have a great life”. I slammed his car door nice and hard as l climbed out and walked away into the dark.
So how did things get so messy?
Tendai and I had fallen in love with each other a year ago, he was all l ever wanted in a guy, ‘at first’ and l was his dream girlfriend too. Both of us at the age of 28 just thought this definitely was it. The search for true love was over.
With time there emerged those nitty-gritty human imperfections. Tendai is traditional, old school and reserved on the other hand l am less cultural and a newly emerging activist for feminism and gender equality. He is the type that prefers to not touch alcohol, deems it unclean for his soul, he prefers the traditional kind of music, and he loves spending his days chilled, watching movies or visiting family and friends. It made me look like l was the wild one, so eager to try anything and everything, ready to live, never content with sleeping before 11 pm on a weekend, and definitely never one to repeat the same activities over and over again.
So as expected in such cases, we started getting into each other’s nerves. He began to think l was too independent, l had no respect for tradition and that l could just not make a good wife for him, but this was never said out aloud. I began to find him quite boring, and just not fun to hang with. But none of us could audibly say it out. We had just come a long way to quit because of what we thought to be a few indifferences.
In my culture, men pay lobola to show respect to the bride’s family and say thank you for raising your daughter well. The culture sort of sells women under the guise of culture. Lobola can be 15 cows including other cultural things that a guy must pay up, not to mention that after the lobola the guy must sponsor the white wedding ceremony as well. The bride’s family demands the amount of lobola they want, and the amount can even add up to 15000 us dollars, which is a 2-year saving for a typical middle-class guy who has decided to forgo buying a house, a car, and a decent living style. Lately, families have become overly greedy and are demanding alarming lobola prices. The fathers of the bride use the lobola to buy things like a fancy car or spend the money getting drunk. And in turn the bride has to leave her family, her religion, her lifestyle, her surname and almost everything else important is foregone by the lady as she follows her husband. It becomes the duty of the wife to clean, cook, take care of the husband and kids, as well as to get formerly employed somewhere and contribute to the new family income. If lobola was truly a cultural way of appreciating a partner l do not see why both partners cannot give lobola to the spouse’s family, or why a guy cannot give out what he has, but instead must toil for years to get to afford a wife.
And as you can imagine, l being a feminist, who realizes there is something seriously wrong with this culture from as early as 11 was totally ready to rebel. And certainly not prepared to be sold off, so l tried reasoning with the love of my life.
We were sitting in Tendai’s car, he was preparing to drive me home, after we had spent the day in the park, doing what we usually do, ‘Chilling’ in the relaxed way he likes. And poor I got bored; there was nothing new to say, no interesting conversation about the latest movie, or the hit song on the market. Just family talk about how we would chill like this, during the weekends once we were married.
Sol blurted out, “Tendi, love brought us together, l love you dearly, but there are a few things we should change love. For starts l would love to keep going to my church, l like it there, and l would love for you to take care of your siblings, but the family culture of a newly wedded couple living under the same roof with family relatives just takes the vibe off honeymoon phase, we can always share, but l prefer staying with you only and my kids, unless we really have to take in someone in need. Can we do that?
Tendai’s eyes grew big, as if they were gonna pop out of their sockets, all he could mutter was “whaaaaat?” Since l had kept this buried for so long in my heart, l thought, ah why not just let it all out, after all, he is my boyfriend, he is bound to see things more from my perspective if l explain well.
“Yes Tendai, l think women’s positions in the house are a bit unfair too, for instance a man gets to come back from work, sits at home, and watches tv whilst the lady who has also come back from a long day at work, breaks her back to cook, wash and do dishes as well as take care of the kids. It sounds more like slavery rather than marriage. I hope when we are married we can share tasks according to everyone’s capabilities, it would make married life easier for me love”.
Tendai looked at me long and hard, with clear bewilderment in his eyes. “Love a woman should be a woman, know your place, and know that it will always be behind me, your boyfriend and future husband, l will be the head of the family, l will make the final decisions, you will be my wife, what is the purpose of a wife? Is it not taking care of the husband? Talk to your mother, talk to your church elders, talk to anyone and they will tell you the same! The husband leads, the wife follows. Equal rights are there, but just not on this!” He ended, fuming with fury.
I guess in his mind he was thinking, oh this gal, what nonsense is this, women are women, and they should remain women. That was the moment when l finally opened up my eyes to the truth l had refused to see all the time; nothing was going to change in this relationship. Not me and certainly not Tendai. It was my purpose to actively campaign for women’s rights. So l took my leave from the car that had become stuffy and tension-filled from the heated argument.
This is the issue that has brought about the end of our so-called love to where we are right now, bitterness, regrets, anger, and anger.
We both think we are right; we both want the other to see how they are the ones who are wrong. And above all, no one wants to compromise.
I take a taxi, and head home, with deep sorrow inside of me, hoping someday, the society will see life in the eyes of a woman because for now, life is just far from being fair where men and women are concerned. I don’t blame Tendai though; he was born in this world, where culture and tradition plays a major role in people’s lives, even if the culture clearly weakens another party and gives the other all the power. It’s the way it is, and everyone has a choice, to do away with the bad culture, or keep it alive and running for the next generation to copy.
But l know my stand on point.

HORROR REALITY STORY: AREN’T YOU GLAD YOU DIDN’T TURN ON THE LIGHT? By W. Horton | GBAMLOG.COM

Two dormmates in college were in the same science class. The teacher had just reminded them about the midterm the next day when one dorm mate—let’s call her Juli—got asked to this big bash by the hottest guy in school. The other dorm mate, Meg, had pretty much no interest in going and, being a diligent student, she took notes on what the midterm was about. After the entire period of flirting with her date, Juli was totally unprepared for her test, while Meg was completely prepared for a major study date with her books.

At the end of the day, Juli spent hours getting ready for the party while Meg started studying. Juli tried to get Meg to go, but she was insistent that she would study and pass the test. The girls were rather close and Juli didn’t like leaving Meg alone to be bored while she was out having a blast. Juli finally gave up, using the excuse that she would cram in homeroom the next day.

Juli went to the party and had the time of her life with her date. She headed back to the dorm around 2 a.m. and decided not to wake Meg. She went to bed nervous about the midterm and decided she would wake up early to ask Meg for help.

She woke up and went to wake Meg. Meg was lying on her stomach, apparently sound asleep. Juli rolled Meg over to reveal Meg’s terrified face. Juli, concerned, turned on the desk lamp. Meg’s study stuff was still open and had blood all over it. Meg had been slaughtered. Juli, in horror, fell to the floor and looked up to see, written on the wall in Meg’s blood: “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?”

ROMANCE FICTION: SHE CATFISHED ME AND I MARRIED HER by Toni Payne | GBAMLOG.COM

The story of how I met and married my wife can be considered romantic depending on your perspective. We met in a popular social media network group. Being a novice, I never thought people created fake profiles on that platform. It turned out the woman I would later marry did. I should have known something was awkward, she was very active but hardly shared pictures of herself or anything else. She had one profile picture, which I found to be very beautiful.

We got on very well and would agree on most topics shared in the group. The conversations were later taken to our private inbox. She lived on the east coast, which was a bit far for me but I did not mind. We eventually graduated to talking on the phone. The first time I heard her voice, I was blown away by how soft and sweet she sounded. If there was any such thing as love at first listen, this would have been it.

 

A taste of new love

The relationship got serious even though we had not physically met. I was so in love with her personality that I did not mind the fact that whenever I asked her to video chat, she would find an excuse not to. This went on for months. I was so caught up in my feelings for her, I did not push further. Maybe I should have.

As the months went by, we stayed close, sharing very intimate conversations. She said all the right things and I felt I knew her better than any other woman from my past. I would spend hours staring at that one beautiful picture she posted and with all this, I felt like I had found my ideal woman. There was only one problem.

Whenever I brought up the topic of meeting physically, she would make excuse after excuse why we needed to wait. At this point, I knew something was wrong and I did not want to continue the relationship if she was hiding something. She claimed she was shy in person and was not ready to meet me. I wasn’t buying it so I pushed further for us to meet.

Finally… we meet

One day she called me out of the blue and told me she was ready to see me. We picked a weekend that I would come see her. When the day finally arrived, I was nervous but ready to finally hold this lady in my arms. She had been an important part of my world for months and finally I would get to look her in the face and tell her how much I care.

My trip was uneventful until I got to the pickup area where we were to meet. Anxious and ready to get this over with, I stood there looking around for her for what seemed like an hour. I called her phone several times but she did not pick up. With disappointment clearly written on my face, I started to walk back to the ticketing counter when a lady walked up to me and asked if I was waiting for Amanda. I said yes and asked if she knew her. This is when the bombshell dropped.

“I am Amanda,” she said. My jaw dropped. What in the world was going on? This must be a prank. It had to be. I immediately started looking around for cameras but found none. I was expecting a TV host to jump out and say I had been pranked, but it never happened.

The only thing I was sure of was that the lady standing in front of me looked nothing like the Amanda I saw in the picture. She asked if I would follow her to her car. The voice! I recognized the voice and would have recognized it in my sleep. I followed her like a zombie under a spell, part of me bursting with curiosity.

A case of true love?

When we got to her car, she began to explain why she catfished me. She said she would understand if I no longer wanted to continue with the relationship. She explained why she was reluctant to meet me in person or video chat. Apparently, the last man she met online stopped calling after they met and she had been dealing with self-esteem issues ever since. She said her main concern was not scaring me away. I asked why she agreed to meet me and she said it was because she was falling in love with me and did not want the charade to continue. She said she wanted me to fall in love with her and not a fake picture.

It took a lot to process but while thinking about it, I realized her plan had worked. I had fallen in love with who she was and not what she looked like. I realized It wasn’t the picture on her profile that endeared me to her, it was her personality, wit and how she cared for me. Little did I know that was the tip of the iceberg. Going to see Amanda turned out to be the best decision because when she realized I was comfortable with her looks, her personality seemed to blossom even more.

One month later I proposed to her. She moved in with me a few more months later and we eventually got married. We have been married for over 7 years and I fall more and more in love with her every day.

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