Dear Nikky. After reading your article on Spousal murder , I felt it imperative to add my voice to yours by boldly pointing out that SPOUSAL MURDER IS NOT A NIGERIAN THING. I am a Nigerian, a husband and a father. I have been married to my wife for seven years. In all these seven years, I am proud to say that I have never lifted a finger against her, I have been a loving, caring, stable and by God ’ s grace and in the words of my wife; “ a super-wonderful husband and father ” . That is why I take exception to articles and stories all over the web painting Nigerian men as uncaring, callous and wife-hating husbands.  E very marriage has its ups and downs but it takes a real man to keep the flag of his marriage flying. Like every married couple, w e have had our set-backs, temptations and misunderstandings but in the midst of them, we never lost sight of our love and commitment to each other. We always found a way to settle and have always pulled through together as a fam

The news of the 53 year old man who slaughtered four of his children after quarreling with his wife the previous night gave me chills for days. As I read through similar stories of senseless spousal murders and family violence by jealous husbands, bitter wives, angry in-laws as in the case of Mrs. Nkechi Onyejegbu who was brutally murdered by her husband’s brothers, many questions ran through my brain already bemused by scary and extremely graphic images. Are these stories and images real? Why are Nigerian couples killing themselves? These people no de fear God? If person no wan marry again na by force? 

Children are very interesting and over smart oh. That was how I went to this lovely hotel just to relax with a client and her very cute son. We placed our orders and before long they served us this very appetizing meal of Jollof rice with peppered goat meat garnished with shredded green pepper and plantain. I hardly eat. In fact, eating food is always a big challenge but the aroma and a look at the properly garnished meal woke my appetite from its deep slumber. Sharply saying my prayer, I dug in and was enjoying my meal when the lady's son yelled out "I want pepper!" The kid had being very quiet all day and had refused to smile at me and my usual pranks. Confused at his sudden outburst, I looked up and noticed he was pointing at my plate. Haba, why would he point at my plate instead of his mum's, I thought while trying to act amused and ignore that the lady's plate was almost empty. "He likes pepper." She explained and tried to feed him a