WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO?
I never thought there would be a day I’d quietly resent my husband for going to watch an Arsenal match.
That evening around 8pm, I had just returned from church with only one mission in mind; vegetable soup.
Everything was ready except fish, so I stepped out to buy fried fish from one woman in our area.
While I was there, my husband called.
He was standing at the door, locked outside.
I told him I had quickly gone to buy fish and would be back soon.
Then he said casually,
“I just came to drop my bag. I’m heading out to watch the Arsenal match.”
I laughed.
“No wahala.”
Simple.
Or at least, it was supposed to be simple.
The woman selling the fish overheard our conversation and suddenly my peaceful evening turned into a relationship seminar I didn’t ask for.
“Your husband came home this late and he’s leaving again to watch football?” she asked with concern. “That’s not good o.”
I smiled politely.
“It’s really not a big deal.”
But she continued.
“No. Don’t normalize it. Why will he leave you alone to cook? Is the food not for both of you?”
I nodded slowly.
She shook her head.
“So he’ll spend over two hours watching ball while you stress in the kitchen? Ah ah. My dear, you need to stop these things now before children come.”
I kept smiling because honestly I didn’t see any issue.
My husband had watched matches countless times before. I had never felt offended by it.
But something strange happened.
On my way home, her words followed me.
And while cooking, they became louder.
Suddenly, the same man I usually admired started looking insensitive in my eyes.
“Imagine leaving me alone because of Arsenal.”
Arsenal sef.
Normally when I cook, I listen to worship or messages.
But that night, my heart was too noisy for worship.
I cooked angrily.
He came back happy and excited.
I served his food and quietly carried mine into the bedroom.
He looked surprised.
“You didn’t even ask how the match went.”
I just nodded.
Meanwhile, this man had absolutely no idea that another person’s words had entered my heart and rearranged my emotions.
By the next morning, the bitterness had grown roots.
His jokes irritated me.
His compliments meant nothing.
He kept asking,
“What’s wrong?”
And like many people slowly drifting in relationships, I answered,
“Nothing.”
But inside me, something was already changing.
Then the Holy Spirit interrupted my thoughts.
And honestly, that moment humbled me deeply.
I realized those words from that woman had become seeds.
And I had watered them overnight.
Then this question dropped in my spirit:
“Have you ever had issues with your husband watching football before?”
And immediately, reality slapped me gently.
No.
In fact, his match nights were usually my free time.
That was when I rested, scrolled my phone peacefully, edited content, replied messages, or simply enjoyed quiet.
Sometimes, if he didn’t mention any match, I was the one asking,
“No Arsenal today?”
And if Arsenal won?
Ah.
Everybody in the house would know.
The Holy Spirit reminded me of something else too.
That same morning, while I was still on the bed, this man fetched water from the well and filled all the drums because our pumping machine had issues.
The next morning, he did it again.
Whenever I asked him to help me deliver berets, he never complained.
But one stranger’s opinion almost erased all the good my eyes had seen for years.
And that’s when I understood something very important as both a woman and someone who now pays attention to emotional health:
Not every opinion deserves access to your heart.
Because bitterness is subtle.
It rarely enters screaming.