Dear Sister Ada

Dear Sista Ada,

We are sorry. We know Sorry would not wipe your bloodshot eyes, we know it would not take away the stoicism your heart feels from being let down by those you love. We know say we don mess up! We dey see the time wey Broda dey beat you: like dem dey comot akamu water from im bodi but, we no tok. We dey fear say if you leave am, Pipo go laugh you Taya say ‘na because she don get a masters degree and get work wey sweet, her pride don dey show’

We are sorry. For not listening to you scream for help while you were at the wedding on Saturday. All we wanted to talk about was the fine ‘to-match’ from head to toe you did with your husband. We could see the fear in your stained pupil, we knew you wanted to talk but we’d rather tell you how we sef dey suffer and our suffering pass your own. After all, How bigman wife go dey suffer?

We are sorry we made you lose that fine job you loved so much. It was succour for you-we knew that for sure. It was your safe space but as oga no too dey see you for office unto say, the scars on your face are new every week. For faithful is your husband to revive you with original Anthony Joshua blow before Monday.

You seem to be hanging on to your last on life. All we see now is a shadow. Not of the one we love but of a woman who reeks of acrimony.

We promise to do better.

From the Ones who never listened but now do.