BEFORE YOU SETTLE DOWN.. MUST READ

When I met my husband, he was already 40 and still not married.

At first, I thought something was wrong with him, maybe he had a bad temper, or some secret no woman could tolerate. But as I got to know him, I realized he was a genuinely good man. Calm. Gentle.

The kind of man who apologizes even when he isn’t at fault.

So one evening, while we were still getting to know each other, he tried to tell me about himself.

He looked me in the eyes and said softly,

“My mom is the reason I’m not married. She chased away every woman I ever brought home.”

There were tears in his eyes as he spoke. I could tell he’d been holding that pain for years.

Before I could say a word, he quickly changed the topic, as if he didn’t want to open that wound any further.

It was that moment I realized I was dealing with a man who loved deeply but was trapped by a mother’s possessiveness.

By then, we were already making plans to visit the mother, and I was getting prepared as well.

When I finally met his mother, everything made sense.

Mama Thomas was the woman who carried herself like a queen whose throne no other woman must touch.

Before I even entered the house fully, she had already sized me from head to toe, and her face screamed disapproval.

That day, while I helped her in the kitchen, she said,

“So you be the one wey wan marry my Thomas abi? You girls of nowadays, na food and fine house una dey find. You no go fit cook like me.”

I smiled politely and said, “Don’t worry, Mama. Nobody was born knowing everything.”

She hissed.

“Na me born Thomas. He suck my breast for five years. No woman fit collect am from me.”

That was when I knew the real battle had begun.

Was it how she jokingly insvlted me, ignored me, and made sure I felt unwelcome.

If I greeted, she would say I was pretending.

If I kept quiet, she’d say I was proud.

After the visitation, I lounged in the hotel for the mean time, because I still had some unfinished business.

Then one evening my fiancé was not around, and he pleaded I help out his mother with something at home. Initially I didn't want to, but he pleaded that I should please go, that over time, he believe we both will get along, so I went.

Staying and helping mama out was a hard nut to crack, as she was a very difficult human being, one of the evening that I was on a call with my fiancé, she walked in on me, looking at me dead in the eye she said,

"Yellow sissy, pack your load and go. I no fit allow you tie my son down like other girls wey don come here before. Thomas is my life.”

I took a deep breath and said, “Mama, I respect you, but I no dey fear you. You may have given birth to him, but I’m the woman he chose. If you truly love your son, love the one who makes him happy.”

That night, Thomas finally found his voice.

“Mama, I’m marrying her. You’ve chased every woman away, but not this one. I love her.” he said over the phone.

For the first time, Mama Thomas went silent.

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw pain, not pride.

I went back to my base, and maintained my lane.

Then marriage counselling came, I was based in the far north, and my husband was based in Lagos.

I had to travel down to Lagos, and my husband pleaded that I stay in one of the rooms that was next to his mother, his room was downstairs.

Sincerely, if I had a friend I would have stayed with in Lagos, I would have been so glad, but I didn't have anyone, so I stayed at their family house.

Days turned into weeks, and each day came with it's own drama, but in all, I matched mama's energy—but with grace.

When she shouted, I stayed calm and ignored her.

I didn't know the thing was paining her like kilode.

I still prayed for her and asked God to take away her pepper body, and also help me to take her as a mother, because the truth is that, her initial attitude, almost made me want to develop h@tred for her.

But she still never gave up.

When she ignored me, I showed her kindness.

When she tried to turn Thomas against me, I reminded him that love and manipulation can’t live in the same house.

Then came the day she fell sick, it came so fast that she was rushed to the hospital ,and when Thomas told me, I visited her with a meal prepared by me, I fed her, and stayed by her hospital bed.

Finally, it was like the scales on her eyes fell off, she cried and held my hand.

“My daughter, I was just afraid of losing my son. I didn’t know I was pushing him away.”

I smiled and said, “Mama, nobody fit collect Thomas from you. I only came to love him with you.”

That was the day peace finally entered our home.

Morals:

Mothers should understand that raising a son doesn’t mean owning him. Let him build his own home.

As a woman, never fight with noise or bitterness—fight with grace, calm, and wisdom. That’s how you win both the man and his mother.