Last night, my friend and I were in a very good mood, so we started chatting.
We didn't have any particular topic because the English Premier League is on break. Bruno Fernandes is not in action to "show Arsenal pepper," so there wasn't much to discuss in the world of football.
As for Nigerian politics, I have decided not to waste my precious time discussing it anymore.
It is very difficult to change the minds of politicians and their supporters. Everyone, including our friends, has already chosen the side they want to belong to.
It is almost impossible to convince members of the Obidient Movement to support the BATists or persuade supporters of the ADC to vote for the Obidients.
If you want to keep your sanity intact, avoid discussions centred on politics. And if you are a passionate supporter of a particular candidate, try to avoid heated arguments with supporters of other political parties before they label you an informant.
So, yesterday, my friend asked me a very interesting question:
"When are men going to rest?"
I paused for a while and started racking my brain for an answer.
The first thing I did was reflect on my own family. I asked myself: Did my father ever truly rest before he died? Did any of my mentors rest before they passed away?
Hmmm...
I don't think men ever truly rest until they die.
They are born to carry responsibilities, make difficult decisions, lead even on an empty stomach, take both calculated and uncalculated risks, ensure that everything runs smoothly, and, in some cases, endure emotional blackmail from difficult spouses.
Many men, especially those married to only one wife, often live uncertain lives, wondering what tomorrow may bring—unless they are fortunate enough to marry a well-trained woman from a good home.
Hmmm...
I told my friend that throughout my journey in life, I have interviewed many prominent men, including the late billionaire Parakoyi of Ibadanland, Chief Bode Akindele, the late Mallam Isa Funtua, and former Governor and Senator Danjuma Goje.
None of them gave me a satisfactory answer to the age-old question of whether one wife is better than two.
Even during one of my discussions with former President Goodluck Jonathan, when he was the Deputy Governor of Bayelsa State, I realised after our interview that everyone speaks from personal experience.
Eventually, I came to one conclusion.
In the school of marriage, you are the teacher, the student, and the owner of the classroom.
Your future is in your own hands. Decide what works best for you.
What is good for the goose may not be good for the gander.
One man's poison may be another man's food.
You have to build and design your own home in a way that allows you to live happily in it.
As for me, I have decided to handle the bigger decisions in my family and leave the smaller ones to my wife.
My friend was surprised to hear this and immediately asked me to explain.
I cleared my throat and continued.
"You should share responsibilities with love and mutual respect. Then there will be little or no conflict."
He asked, "Can you explain?"
I replied, "In my house, I make decisions on major issues, while my wife takes care of the smaller ones. We don't interfere with each other's responsibilities."
Still unconvinced, he asked for examples.
I said, "The smaller issues include how many children to have, which neighbourhood to live in, which car to buy, how much money to save, who to visit and when, which sofa, cooker, or refrigerator to buy, monthly household expenses, whether to employ a maid, where to go on holiday, whose mother we should visit, and even which of the children should be mine.
As for Nigerian politics, I have decided not to waste my precious time discussing it anymore.
It is very difficult to change the minds of politicians and their supporters. Everyone, including our friends, has already chosen the side they want to belong to.
It is almost impossible to convince members of the Obidient Movement to support the BATists or persuade supporters of the ADC to vote for the Obidients.
If you want to keep your sanity intact, avoid discussions centred on politics. And if you are a passionate supporter of a particular candidate, try to avoid heated arguments with supporters of other political parties before they label you an informant.
So, yesterday, my friend asked me a very interesting question:
"When are men going to rest?"
I paused for a while and started racking my brain for an answer.
The first thing I did was reflect on my own family. I asked myself: Did my father ever truly rest before he died? Did any of my mentors rest before they passed away?
Hmmm...
I don't think men ever truly rest until they die.
They are born to carry responsibilities, make difficult decisions, lead even on an empty stomach, take both calculated and uncalculated risks, ensure that everything runs smoothly, and, in some cases, endure emotional blackmail from difficult spouses.
Many men, especially those married to only one wife, often live uncertain lives, wondering what tomorrow may bring—unless they are fortunate enough to marry a well-trained woman from a good home.
Hmmm...
I told my friend that throughout my journey in life, I have interviewed many prominent men, including the late billionaire Parakoyi of Ibadanland, Chief Bode Akindele, the late Mallam Isa Funtua, and former Governor and Senator Danjuma Goje.
None of them gave me a satisfactory answer to the age-old question of whether one wife is better than two.
Even during one of my discussions with former President Goodluck Jonathan, when he was the Deputy Governor of Bayelsa State, I realised after our interview that everyone speaks from personal experience.
Eventually, I came to one conclusion.
In the school of marriage, you are the teacher, the student, and the owner of the classroom.
Your future is in your own hands. Decide what works best for you.
What is good for the goose may not be good for the gander.
One man's poison may be another man's food.
You have to build and design your own home in a way that allows you to live happily in it.
As for me, I have decided to handle the bigger decisions in my family and leave the smaller ones to my wife.
My friend was surprised to hear this and immediately asked me to explain.
I cleared my throat and continued.
"You should share responsibilities with love and mutual respect. Then there will be little or no conflict."
He asked, "Can you explain?"
I replied, "In my house, I make decisions on major issues, while my wife takes care of the smaller ones. We don't interfere with each other's responsibilities."
Still unconvinced, he asked for examples.
I said, "The smaller issues include how many children to have, which neighbourhood to live in, which car to buy, how much money to save, who to visit and when, which sofa, cooker, or refrigerator to buy, monthly household expenses, whether to employ a maid, where to go on holiday, whose mother we should visit, and even which of the children should be mine.
Whenever they excel, they become 'my daughters,' but whenever it's time to pay school fees, it suddenly becomes 'your daughter's school fees.' My wife handles all those decisions, and I simply agree."
He laughed and then asked, "So, what exactly is your own role?"
I smiled and replied,
"My decisions are reserved for very important matters—like whether America should continue attacking Iran, whether North Korea should continue enriching uranium, whether Britain should lift sanctions on Zimbabwe, how Africa can fully harness its economic and intellectual potential, whether I should relocate to Port Harcourt to finally settle the political crisis between Wike and Oga Fubara, whether Manchester United should buy new players or change their coach, and other equally weighty global issues."
I concluded with a smile:
"My wife has never objected to any of these decisions. That is why we have lived happily ever after... and I have finally started enjoying my well-deserved rest!"
— Mogaji Wole Arisekola writes from Ibadan.
He laughed and then asked, "So, what exactly is your own role?"
I smiled and replied,
"My decisions are reserved for very important matters—like whether America should continue attacking Iran, whether North Korea should continue enriching uranium, whether Britain should lift sanctions on Zimbabwe, how Africa can fully harness its economic and intellectual potential, whether I should relocate to Port Harcourt to finally settle the political crisis between Wike and Oga Fubara, whether Manchester United should buy new players or change their coach, and other equally weighty global issues."
I concluded with a smile:
"My wife has never objected to any of these decisions. That is why we have lived happily ever after... and I have finally started enjoying my well-deserved rest!"
— Mogaji Wole Arisekola writes from Ibadan.
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