And so, I am leaving "BLOGSPOT.COM" (my English teacher told me to never begin a sentence with "and" but right now who cares) where to? to "WORDPRESS.COM". Why? well, don’t take this the wrong way but like how blackberries came into our life’s and seemed the coolest thing, same did wordpress come into mine.(see free advert for wordpress o) Yes, I know I am guilty of what I dislike the most and that is the |"follow follow" syndrome but who cares? I could decide to tell you guys how blogspot had a million problems and that is why I had to migrate, but all that would be a lie ( I dey move because KevinwithanL talk say its better and all my fellow bloggers don dey change levels)
Blogspot for me will be like my very first phone "Nokia 3310", with it, I learnt the fundamentals, got the basics and most importantly got my first followship but I have to move on now. The break up wasn't painful, it understood that I had to move on, I had to "Upgrade" and we had diner together.
So, this is my own way of saying adieus and telling you guys to please follow me as I move along to SEXYSMOOTHAJEBO.WORDPRESS.COM!
See you on the other side where I hope the grasses are greener, the sky bluer, the wind cooler and the girls are prettier.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Before I'm Fifty
I love my granny, she is one of my favorite persons in the world for so many reasons which I can't start mentioning now but know this, for anything "Warri" in me, I owe it to her (my parents were too busy doing oyibo) even my name Toritseju, she gave to me. Anyways, this isn't about my grand mum or like I fondly call her, "gwanny" neither is it about Mr. Fisher her neigbhour for over 50 years (don't get lost, I'll find u soon).
Visiting my grand mum is always fun, there are two things that always happens;
1. Prepare starch and correct banga soup with peppered pork. This pork I'm talking about isn’t just any kind of pork o, it is salted and spiced for about a week and kept under the sun during the day and in the fridge at night. It is not until the eighth day that it is then fried. So you can imagine the taste (Gosh, I can taste it right now)
2. I must go see Mr. Fisher. Now, I disliked meeting Mr. Fisher, do you know what it feels like to talk with... Sorry listen to (cos, it’s always a one way conversation) a man in his early 90s, whose wife is late and doesn't normally have visitors? It’s agonising. Our conversations always started like this;
*with a thick British accent* “Ha ha, is that you toju? Look at you now... I remember you as a little boy when Eddy would leave u and travel (Eddy Is my dad)... You and Ngozi then were insepraterable (Ngozi’s my cousin, she's married now so guys don’t bother)... I remember when...” (This is where I receive a history class about all my childhood silliness). Then, the conversation would move onto his career, “in 1972 when I was in Britain... No, it can't be cos I remember it was when Awolowo commissioned the then BCOS... Then it must have been 75, cos that was when Coca cola came to...” For Gods sake man, I don’t care about the dates just free me jo! I would see myself screaming but that was as far as it went - my minds eye.
This time, something different happened; Papa Fisher mentioned something that got to me, something he had never told me before. He talked about a certain young lady when he was in Germany that he was involved with and wanted to "do" but never got the chance to but he wished he had. Now, I was shocked, (“so because Mama Fisher no dey again na him make you talk this one u randy old man” I thought to myself) why was he telling me?
Let's now fast forward past my meeting with Papa Fisher, remember I told you at the start that this wasn't about Mr. Fisher? Well, later that day as I sat eating my banga soup with seasoned pork, my mind drifted to Mr. Fisher’s words. I didn't want to be an 80 year old man wishing I had done some particular things in my youth no matter how silly or trivial they sounded and so it brought me here. Top five things I would love to do before I am 50 aside wanting success and the usual stuff.
Number one on my list is to Smoke a big joint of Igbo, weed or whatever you call it with my wife or girlfriend (and for those of you going “what nonsense!” I can give you directions to the nearest transformer. You know what to do with it) of course naturally, we go lock door just incase any one of us decide to kolo. We can't afford to have a high randy me or my wife moving around town. Now, the plan is to make mad “hiray” love after it and just do crazy stuff while high. (It all can be blamed on the *singing* ca ca caca cannabis)
Number two is to make a sextape (wetin! I know say my list dey mke me look horny abi). I saw... Sorry my friend saw the kim kardashan sex tape and the way him describe am ehn… Chia! I heard all what dat yeye boy “Ray Aziakpono J” bin dey do dat gal and how she was singing zulezu’s "e dey pain you, yes, mke I comot am? No, I go manage am so". Or was it Paris Hiltons own? Anyways, point made. I just think there's just something about watching yourself after the deed and praising yourself for a job well done or not. (I know some of you have already done this so allow me….)
Number three is a lot more daring, You know that point in a wedding where the pastor says “ if anyone as any reason why these two should not be joined...” well, I'll love to raise my hands at that point just for the fun of it and watch the sweat roll off peoples faces and the whole commotion that erupts just before I say “it’s a joke pastor, I just always wanted to do that” I have given it serious thought so for fear of my fine face and bones, I would have to do it to a friend and Simon Seez, it just might be yours o. (I hear I’m supposed to be on your wedding train probably as best man….. NICE! *I need a smiley face here*)
Number four, I would love to record a music album. For some reason I think I have what it takes to be an entertainer, quote me correctly I did not say musician (I’ll leave that to omawunmi and Tuface). This album would have it all, dancehall, party songs, love songs and some little rap. I’m still thinking of an album name but its gonna be something catchy like “UPTIMUS PRIME” after all if Timaya or D’prince or Mo Chedda can do it, I can (and without auto tune). So, this is just giving you guys heads up…. “Watch out!”
When I first heard Kaffy made the Guiness book of Records back in 2005/6 for the longest dance party (even though dem no put am for the book…), it got me thinking “I too can do this ish.” That leads me to my number five. Making the Guiness book of Records for anything it doesn’t matter what. Ofcourse, you can bet that it won’t be for climbing the highest mountain or sleeping in the jungle for a year or any of those useless things white people like doing (the plan is to stay alive). I have been playing with some ideas of late,I’ll share some;
Eating the biggest bowl of Eba
Staying a week without electricity (yes, yes, I know what you guys are saying)
The longest hug ever (now that will be fun) I had wanted to try to break the record for that of kissing but a three days kiss…. I think I’ll pass on that one. (suggestions would be appreciated)
This particular endeavor is one you all should encourage me to achieve as it puts our great country on the map for yet another achievement. I’m patriotic like that. (Did I hear a round of applause?)
I could go on but these five top my list and I plan to do them, what’s your silly top five list?
Visiting my grand mum is always fun, there are two things that always happens;
1. Prepare starch and correct banga soup with peppered pork. This pork I'm talking about isn’t just any kind of pork o, it is salted and spiced for about a week and kept under the sun during the day and in the fridge at night. It is not until the eighth day that it is then fried. So you can imagine the taste (Gosh, I can taste it right now)
2. I must go see Mr. Fisher. Now, I disliked meeting Mr. Fisher, do you know what it feels like to talk with... Sorry listen to (cos, it’s always a one way conversation) a man in his early 90s, whose wife is late and doesn't normally have visitors? It’s agonising. Our conversations always started like this;
*with a thick British accent* “Ha ha, is that you toju? Look at you now... I remember you as a little boy when Eddy would leave u and travel (Eddy Is my dad)... You and Ngozi then were insepraterable (Ngozi’s my cousin, she's married now so guys don’t bother)... I remember when...” (This is where I receive a history class about all my childhood silliness). Then, the conversation would move onto his career, “in 1972 when I was in Britain... No, it can't be cos I remember it was when Awolowo commissioned the then BCOS... Then it must have been 75, cos that was when Coca cola came to...” For Gods sake man, I don’t care about the dates just free me jo! I would see myself screaming but that was as far as it went - my minds eye.
This time, something different happened; Papa Fisher mentioned something that got to me, something he had never told me before. He talked about a certain young lady when he was in Germany that he was involved with and wanted to "do" but never got the chance to but he wished he had. Now, I was shocked, (“so because Mama Fisher no dey again na him make you talk this one u randy old man” I thought to myself) why was he telling me?
Let's now fast forward past my meeting with Papa Fisher, remember I told you at the start that this wasn't about Mr. Fisher? Well, later that day as I sat eating my banga soup with seasoned pork, my mind drifted to Mr. Fisher’s words. I didn't want to be an 80 year old man wishing I had done some particular things in my youth no matter how silly or trivial they sounded and so it brought me here. Top five things I would love to do before I am 50 aside wanting success and the usual stuff.
Number one on my list is to Smoke a big joint of Igbo, weed or whatever you call it with my wife or girlfriend (and for those of you going “what nonsense!” I can give you directions to the nearest transformer. You know what to do with it) of course naturally, we go lock door just incase any one of us decide to kolo. We can't afford to have a high randy me or my wife moving around town. Now, the plan is to make mad “hiray” love after it and just do crazy stuff while high. (It all can be blamed on the *singing* ca ca caca cannabis)
Number two is to make a sextape (wetin! I know say my list dey mke me look horny abi). I saw... Sorry my friend saw the kim kardashan sex tape and the way him describe am ehn… Chia! I heard all what dat yeye boy “Ray Aziakpono J” bin dey do dat gal and how she was singing zulezu’s "e dey pain you, yes, mke I comot am? No, I go manage am so". Or was it Paris Hiltons own? Anyways, point made. I just think there's just something about watching yourself after the deed and praising yourself for a job well done or not. (I know some of you have already done this so allow me….)
Number three is a lot more daring, You know that point in a wedding where the pastor says “ if anyone as any reason why these two should not be joined...” well, I'll love to raise my hands at that point just for the fun of it and watch the sweat roll off peoples faces and the whole commotion that erupts just before I say “it’s a joke pastor, I just always wanted to do that” I have given it serious thought so for fear of my fine face and bones, I would have to do it to a friend and Simon Seez, it just might be yours o. (I hear I’m supposed to be on your wedding train probably as best man….. NICE! *I need a smiley face here*)
Number four, I would love to record a music album. For some reason I think I have what it takes to be an entertainer, quote me correctly I did not say musician (I’ll leave that to omawunmi and Tuface). This album would have it all, dancehall, party songs, love songs and some little rap. I’m still thinking of an album name but its gonna be something catchy like “UPTIMUS PRIME” after all if Timaya or D’prince or Mo Chedda can do it, I can (and without auto tune). So, this is just giving you guys heads up…. “Watch out!”
When I first heard Kaffy made the Guiness book of Records back in 2005/6 for the longest dance party (even though dem no put am for the book…), it got me thinking “I too can do this ish.” That leads me to my number five. Making the Guiness book of Records for anything it doesn’t matter what. Ofcourse, you can bet that it won’t be for climbing the highest mountain or sleeping in the jungle for a year or any of those useless things white people like doing (the plan is to stay alive). I have been playing with some ideas of late,I’ll share some;
Eating the biggest bowl of Eba
Staying a week without electricity (yes, yes, I know what you guys are saying)
The longest hug ever (now that will be fun) I had wanted to try to break the record for that of kissing but a three days kiss…. I think I’ll pass on that one. (suggestions would be appreciated)
This particular endeavor is one you all should encourage me to achieve as it puts our great country on the map for yet another achievement. I’m patriotic like that. (Did I hear a round of applause?)
I could go on but these five top my list and I plan to do them, what’s your silly top five list?
Friday, March 11, 2011
SALON, WOMEN AND AFRICAN MAGIC
I think I might die today, like have a heart attack then while falling break my neck, probably get electrocuted as I hit the floor and as I try to move, the ceiling fan falls on me.... (I leave the rest to your imagination). Such a gruesome death right? But if you’re reading this, that means I probably made it.
I’m in a salon waiting for my girlfriend to finish making her hair, (let me ask her the name of the style) She’s says its called “half braid” (then, what’s a full braid?). Don’t get me wrong, I love waiting for my girl in the salon, (don’t believe everything you read sha) besides, who else should be with her as she is in this face changing transition? All those toasters and men promising marriage? (I advice you all to go listen to Banky W’s “My kele”) nah, I rather spend my whole day waiting since she likes it.(did I just hear someone call me sissy?).
Back to my “dying condition”. I’m stuck in a salon (well, the door is actually open) with about seven ladies making their hair and painting their nails, the air is filled with scents of various hair products (I just felt my lungs move, I was right, I’m dying) and all of them are discussing about one thing only “GUYS”. I have grouped them into two groups, the Nazis and the Followers. The Nazis instigate and bring up the topic of discussion while the followers contribute or concur. So far, their discussions have centred on how useless, unfaithful and untrustworthy we men are. One or two of The “followers” give me an occasional “I would kill you right now” look as they discuss while the Nazis always end their points by asking me “men, why are you men like that?” (Am I to answer? I dare not, these ladies look dangerous). One lady in her late thirties was sharing her sad story about how her husband whom she struggled with and made it with was now swimming in the murky waters of unfaithfulness and in the middle of her narration turned to me and said “you go think say as this guy fine and calm reach, him go be saint but na lie o, na them worse pass”. At that point, I felt like dying and running away but my heart refused to stop and my legs chose not to move (but I took solace in the fact that she called me fine and calm *dancing alanta to that*). She looked at me for about thirty seconds (but it felt like an hour) and as our eyes met, I could swear she was telling me “I’m gonna pour this bowl of relaxer on your face, maybe if you don’t look this cute you’ll be one problem out of the way”.
Believe me, I didn’t need the drama that was unfolding right now, fourteen eye balls staring at me, digging holes into me, no funny at all. What made it even worse was the fact that I had just been caught by my girl in a similar situation (do not ask me what I did or didn’t do) and I didn’t need these woman reminding her. At this point my girl sends me...no, asked me to get her suya. Now, any suya lover knows that there aint no mallam that sells suya in the afternoon but madam has asked so, bobo must find.
I come back with the Suya after one kin waka wey just taya me but I kept my face smiling (Na forgiveness mode I dey o) and she gives me that look that I think every guy wants his woman to give him, the “Awww, what would I do without you” look. (People, I’m in love o). Anyways, I settle down to my sit and wait for the next attack on “men” but it didn’t come, their attention had moved on to something else, something much worse, something that killed Bola Ige and Anthony Enahoro – AFRICAN MAGIC! There was a film showing starring Patience something (that funny looking woman) and some other actors whose name I don’t know. Patience was beating a woman on the floor and she was crying and screaming but when the camera turned to the lady being beaten her face was still well made up, hair still neatly packed with not a single drop of tears in her eyes. The husband came in and as if he was counting his words said “Woman ... what is... wrong... with you.... go... back... to your father’s house... now”. Patience turned to face her husband (I’m sorry I just have to make you feel some of my pain, so bear with me as I re-enact that scene) and said “What!” At that point an annoying soundtrack starts (the usual Igbowood one that I heard Sammy Okposo made) “useless man, I’m not going anywhere, come and carry me” patience was saying when I felt my heart ache... (I told you, I’m dying, and what makes it worse is that I wouldn’t get the chance to get some stuff off my chest like telling my mum that it was actually me who stole that teddy bear in the house to give to one girl I was toasting that year and not my kid sis *okay, just in case I survive this, this secret stays here o*) I turned to notice if anyone else was dying or if anyone noticed me dying but to my dismay, they were all glued to the screen like they were diabetic and the movie was their insulin. I thought, so I could probably die here and no one would even notice, na wa o! (them Nazis might even have a party over my death “one less man to worry about” they would say.)
The pain was increasing and I felt life slipping away from me, I looked down and saw a stool and thought, “This just might be what would break my neck”. At that point, my girl called out for me, I turned towards her direction thinking “it would be lovely to die with you as the last person I see” and there she was smiling looking pretty, and alluring. She was done making her hair, seeing her pretty face made all my dying feelings vanish and the six to seven hours of waiting suddenly seemed worth it.
I sit here clicking on my keyboard today thanking God that I made it through that day but I must warn you all, Salon, Women and African Magic all in one can kill.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
FREE FALLING
To Simon and Ngozi (i wish the very best)
Shade was late, she looked at her wrist watch “shit!” she exclaimed, it was 6:45pm, she was an hour late for her meeting with Chiaze. “... when we celebrate we dey pop...” her phone rang, she reached for it from her purse, it was Chiaze. “ Hello.... I’m sorry... please just give me some few minutes.....” by the time she hung up she knew only a miracle could get her out of here in time. “How long would his patience last?” she asked herself. She was stuck in one of those unexplained Lagos go-slows. “Olosi... Can’t you see your front” someone was shouting at her but she cared less.
Shade worked in an advertising company as a graphic artist, she was creative, spontaneous and ambitious – the perfect qualities for her field. Three years ago when she joined the company straight from service, no one expected her to go as far as she had because she was stunningly beautiful but she had proved everyone wrong and shown that she was not just a pretty face. She got the work done, was ruthless when necessary and took no nonsense from anyone. Men were all over her, she had them all, the rich, the handsome, the politicians, the old and young, and even the pastors’ saw visions from God that she was their life partner. Everyone wanted a piece of her but Shade heard none of it. “Na wa o, which kind one you want sef?” her friends were always fond of asking. So, it came as a shock when she fell madly in love with this unknown fella – Chiaze.
“Who e be?” was the question on everyone lips. She remembered Tega her best friend asking her if she was sure about him and the answer was yes. “Na wa o Shade, na you be dis... who would have thought” Tega used to tease her.
Chiaze was not what you would call a Mr. World, he was plain. Nothing physically jumped at you about him. He was just a young chap that knew what he wanted in life and she bought into his dreams. She had met him at Tega’s birthday party. He came with Tega’s cousin Maro and was unnoticed until he stepped onto the dance floor. Shade would never forget that day. It was Sean Paul’s “get busy” that was playing and Maro had begged him to please dance. From the very first step he took, he got everyone’s attention, he was beautiful to watch, he had this gait, control and smile on his face that was infectious. After the song, Tega had run to have a dance with him and together they were captivating. He danced it all, reggae, dance hall, pop, disco, old school, salsa, just as long as it got a beat, he moved to it. It wasn’t until about an hour later that Shade got the chance to dance with him, he was gentle with her and she enjoyed every minute of it. Like she always said “he danced his way into my heart.”
After that day, they saw each other regularly. It was like he had the whole timetable on every show that happened in Lagos; he took her for them all whenever she was free. He seemed to know all the celebrities, he got her backstage passes, one on one talks with the celebs and front role sits for she and her friends. As her birthday gift, he got her to have supper with Richard Mofe- Damijo (RMD).” She was an RMD fanatic and it was an unforgettable experience. For someone who didn’t have anything, he was there. He always had a way out of every situation, there were countless occasions when a show was not going well or something and immediately he was called upon, he made it happen. He was your go-to -guy. It was for this same reason that when “DEFCOM” an entertainment company was organising a show which had all them international acts, Chiaze was the man to meet as a show of that magnitude hadn’t been done in the country in like thirty years. That event was the turning point for Chiaze, he set up his own company and things only got better for him. After he finished his one year course on event management and planning from England, he asked Shade to marry her. Those were the good days.
Shade drove into the parking lot of “Ocean view” it was 7:42pm.
Chaize dropped his glass, picked up the bottle to refill but realised it was empty, that was his third bottle of wine for the night. He was tired of waiting; it had become a normal trend in their relationship for the past two years. It first started with thirty minutes lateness which she was apologetic for then it grew to total cancellation of dates and late night home coming. He first thought he could bear it but it had become a part of their life, anytime he tried to show his disgust she interpreted it as him just being chauvinistic. He noticed her walk in, looked at his wristwatch, (a gift from her when things were better) it was 7:55pm. As usual, heads turned as she walked in, watching how her hips and waist moved brought back memories. He remembered him teaching her how to move it to all them dancehall songs back in the day, now she was a master.
“Your friend just walked in two hours thirty minutes late for her own birthday party” he said bending towards Tega who was sitting by his right.
“Take it easy with her, you know its work” Tega said, defending her.
“Yeah, I forget that... I’m unemployed” he said with a smirk on his face getting up.
“Come on Chiaze, you know no be like that and it’s not like I’m trying to defend her”
“That’s what you’re supposed to do, defend her... I understand you are her friend Tega” he said walking past her.
“Where are you going to?” she asked, concern showing in her voice.
“The bottles empty... it needs a refill” he answered a smile on his face.
Tega watched him walk away with a slight stagger not from wine but from that of a sad man. She knew Shade was over doing it and she had talked to her. Its funny how fond of him she had become; he had become a yardstick for men generally for her. He was responsible and took care of his business unlike Gab her fiancé.
“Where is he going to?” Shade asked as she got to Tega,
“Girl, you no dey hear word ba? You’re messing things up, there is only so much a person can take” Tega scolded
“Haha, you no even make I sit down before you begin harass me. Its work girl, you of all people should no that”
“That’s what you have been saying for how many years and.....”
“Ehn ehn ehn Tega its okay...I have heard enough...haha... ki ni mo se fun e now....” Shade cut in getting pissed.
“Madam no vex o... but if I don’t tell you, who will. Do”
“I’m sorry Tega” Shade apologised “It’s just that things her crazy at work”
“I know girlfriend.... Come on, go talk to your man.” Tega said pushing her to the bar “and hey, happy birthday”
“Hello you” Shade greeted as she got to Chaize “I’m so sorry... it was the office and I couldn’t get out. They needed me, sorry” she explained
“Yeah, I know, superwoman... everybody needs you except me. Well, your office should marry you then”
“That’s not fair Chiaze, you of all people should understand”
“That’s the problem Shade, I always understand, in fact, I have been understanding for the past two years but guess what? I’ve had it. O ti su mi now... For God sake, your own birthday party that I have been planning for the last month, I even gave you heads up weeks before, reminding you... no, begging you to clear you schedule or at least make it light. But no, you had to go do it all at work. Don’t I mean something to you no more?”
“You do, darling you mean everything...” she replied almost to tears. Shade held him tight as if he was her life support. “Forgive me” she pleaded.
Chaize allowed himself to be held, in her hold he felt at home. Something he had missed for so long, “Its okay girl, its just painful. Do you know D’banj and Wande Coal were here?” Shade put her hands on her mouth in disbelief, tears falling down her checks, “I’m sorry...” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry dear”
“Its okay, thank God you’re here now.... let’s go join the others” he said kissing her. “Come on, you know you have my mumu button and I can’t stay pissed at you for long.”
“Look at them, lovee lovee people... abegy, come cut cake make we chop i.” Tega teased them as the joined in.
“longer throat” Shade said “e... we dey pop champagne...e” her phone rang. “Excuse me guys, I gotta take this. Give a minute” she said excusing herself. “I won’t be long honey “she said giving Chiaze a kiss that lasted longer than usual.
“Abegy, carry your wahala go corner” said Tega
“Jealousy” replied Shade as she walked off
“So, you’re all smiles now right” Tega asked Chiaze
“What can a brother do Tee?”
Chiaze was watching Shade and he knew something was up form her body language. “I hope there is no problem” he thought to himself.
“It’s going to be okay?” Tega said as if she was reading his thoughts. He just smiled in response.
“What’s up?” Tega asked as she joined them. Shade was scratching her hair, Tega knew she only scratched her hair the way she was doing only when she about to drop a bombshell.
“I gotta go” she announced
“What!” Chiaze let out unable to control his surprise and disbelief.
“Honey, you remember that contact I told you about, the one from Dublin? Well, he is around”
“And?” Chiaze asked hoping he misunderstood something somewhere.
“He his leaving tomorrow and this is my only chance I would have to get him. He is at the Hilton not too far from here, so, I gotta run. I won’t be long, I promise” she said giving him a peek and then running off before he could say a word.
“I’ve had it Tee” Chiaze said walking off.
“Chiaze! Chiaze!!” Tega called after him but he didn’t respond.
“Leave him, he needs to be alone” Gab told her “You need to talk to Shade” he added.
“Talk? Just let me be Gab. Don’t I always do?”
“I know but I don’t think its enough”
“Please please.... just no vex me this evening.”
Chiaze saw the lights from the car as she drove in. He was waiting in the sitting room, the lights were off, he could not sleep. He was tired, sad and fed up.
For the second time in the day he had seen Shade walk in, only this time it was their home. He watched her sneak in trying hard not to wake him up, she walked to the bar, poured herself a drink and sat on the chair. “what a day” he heard her say smiling “I cant wait to see the look on Mikes face tomorrow when I show him this” Chiaze watched her as she moved across to him, she bent down over him and whispered into his hear “I’m so sorry love”
“really?” he replied taking her unawares.
Shade was shocked, she thought he was asleep. “You scared me, I didn’t know you were awake” she said.
“I know” he replied “so, how did it go?”
“Oh lovely, I sealed it love”
“Congratulations. At least some ones happy between the two of us” he sneered
“Oh baby, I’m truly sorry about this evening, really’
“That’s what you say every time” Chiaze said getting up from the setae and moving to the dining area. “Believe me I am fed up, this your job thing is becoming something else” he said.
“This my job thing as you put it, is what I have been doing before I met you, this my job thing is what used to support us. Do you expect me to quit just to satisfy you? I’m sorry, but I’m not one of those women... I take care of my own business.” she replied, her temper rising.
“Who said anything about you quitting Shade, all I ask is some balance. For gods sake I don’t see my wife any longer, it’s like you do not exist. When was the last time you cooked for me? I’ll tell you, it was a year three months and two days exactly. And I know you’re not one of those women, that’s why I married you.”
Shade walked to the wine cabinet and poured herself a glass of whisky. She drank it all in a single go “I’m not ready for this, not tonight “she said pouring herself another shot and drinking it all.
“When will you ever be ready? When? We are getting to our third year in marriage and still no child. Why? Because her majesty isn’t ready yet. When will you be ready? When we are all grey?” he mocked
“So, that is what it’s really about right? A child?”
“If it was about that I would have gone to have myself one outside...” he replied already ticked off.
“Go now, who’s stopping you? Go and have a bastard from those whores chasing you around town. You think I don’t know right” she said at the top of her voice taking another drink.
“Would you slow down on the bottle” he ordered trying to get the bottle from her.
“I would drink how and when I like Chiazendu, after all, I bought it” she only called him by his full name only when she was angry, drunk or wanted to get under his skin. Chiaze, went for the bottle but she moved away as if she expected it.
“Leave me the fuck alone” she screamed at him shocking him
“Are you mad?” he asked
“It is your great grand parents that is mad, iya baba baba e’” she abused.
Chiaze was fuming mad but in order not to do anything stupid he decided to walk away.
“Where are you going?” she asked “Come and fight like a man”
Chiaze still walking away choose not to respond, he had taken his third step on the staircase when he felt the pain. Shade had thrown her glass at him aiming for his back so as to get his attention but instead she missed hitting his head. Chiaze dropped to the ground with a scream holding his head. Shade had never heard him scream like that before, she ran to him and when she saw the pool of blood on the floor she screamed.
Gab was in between Tega’s leg licking her. She moaned with pleasure “Yes, yes, right there” she moaned. “What are you waiting for? I need you” she begged holding her breast as if they were gears for a car. He had just entered her giving her so much pleasure when her phone rang.
“No!” she ordered, giving Gab an I-will-kill-you look as he stretched his hand for her phone. “It could be important” he said as he thrusted in and out of her.
“I can’t believe you, how could you even think...” she broke off not able to coordinate her thoughts any more as the excitement increased.
But the phone kept on ringing and was becoming a nuisance. Tega stretched her hand to get her phone and was about to switch it off when she saw it was Shade calling her. She panicked because she knew her friend never called her at this time of the night unless it was an emergency.
“What’s wrong Shade?” she asked a little bit concerned and a little bit irritated with Gab still on top of her.
“Tee, I am dead...mo ti ku o!” Shade replied at the other end in tears
“What’s the matter?” she asked scared
“It’s Chiaze....” Shade obviously could not get herself together.
By this time Tega had shoved Gab aside and had sat up. “Whats wrong with him?” Tega asked, fear evident in her voice. When no reply came from the other end she asked again “What the hell is wrong with Chiaze!”
“He’s in the hospital...” came the reply.
“Hospital? Whats happening Shade”
“I can’t talk Tega... please if you can, meet me at Lavens Hospital...”
The line cut. Tega had never heard Shade that shaken, she got up from the bed picking her “undies” from the floor.
“what’s wrong with Chiaze” Gab asked trying to get his hands on things.
“He’s in the hospital... lets go Gab” she replied her skirt already on.
“Never knew you could dress this quick” Gab said getting up looking for his trousers. When Tega didn’t reply he knew she was really worried, the Tega he knew had a ready reply for every situation or comment. So, instead he walked up to her and held her by the shoulder “It’s gonna be okay” he told her.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
HAVEN'T THOUGHT OF A NAME YET
‘Where is she?’
‘Where is she? ... Where is my wife?’ Ben stormed into the hospital screaming. ‘Where is my wife?’
A pretty looking nurse approached him “Sir, what is the problem?” she asked, with concern in her voice.
“My wife… My wife” Ben tried to answer.
“Your wife sir? What is wrong with her?” nurse Becky asked trying to make sense of what this hysteric man was saying.
“They called me… they called me…” Ben said, still trying to construct a sentence but with so much difficulty.
“Nurse Becky what is the problem?” asked a round short lady in her fifties.
“It’s this man matron… he’s asking for his wife, he…” nurse Becky answered.
“My wife, where is she?” Ben asked again stopping Nurse Becky from completing her sentence.
“What is wrong with your wife sir?” Matron Agaga asked holding Ben firmly by the shoulder. “Tell us what the problem is?” she asked again but this time her voice was like that of a general giving an order.
“An accident… they called me… they said…” Ben tried to explain but still couldn’t get himself together.
Nurse Becky and Matron Agaga gave each other a knowing look then turned to Ben “Sir, you’re at the wrong place…”
“Wrong place? Is this not Life Memorial?” Ben interrupted.
“It is sir, what I mean is that you are supposed to be at the casualty ward not here” Matron Agaga replied.
“So where is the casualty ward?” he asked this time with better composure.
“Don’t worry, Nurse Becky will take you there” she said leading him towards a door way by his left.
As Nurse Becky led Ben to the casualty ward, she felt pity for him. She had heard about the accident, in fact, she was in the casualty ward when the first van came in with the casualties. It was a gory sight, there was so much screaming, so much pain, so much disorder, so much tears. In her ten years as a nurse she had never seen what she saw today, it was scary and made her thank God for being alive.
“Sir, you will have to wait here” she said pointing to a bench by her far right which already had two other people sitted.
“But I want to… “Ben tried to speak. “Don’t worry sir, you will be attended to shortly, I promise” she said compassionately trying to reassure him.
Ben took his seat. He could see other people around him, the lady by his left had swollen eyes from crying, her makeup was all over her face. The tears had stopped pouring and her voice was gone. From the lady consoling her he could tell that she had lost her son and her husband was in critical condition.
“Esther, it’s going to be fine o... let’s keep praying” the younger lady beside her consoled. The doctor walked in at that moment and everyone ran towards him for the latest update on their loved ones, praying for some good news.
“I’ll First like to extend my sincere sympathies to you all” he started “We have come up with a list of everyone we have identified and in what condition they are in.” he paused taking a look at everyone “for those we can not identify, we will need your help. Those of…”
At that point Ben stopped listening, he bent his head and said a short prayer “Father, please let her be alive… she is my everything” that was his first prayer in about seven years.
Tokunbo Marcus Bridge poured water over his face; he had just finished an amputation and was getting ready for another surgery. Today was crazy he thought, he had been dragged out of his house at the middle of something very important. He had just proposed to Ego his girlfriend of five years and she had accepted when the call came.
“Don’t pick it dear” she pleaded
“You know I have to Mrs. Ego Bridge” he said with a wide grin on his face.
“Mrs. Ego Bridge” she repeated “I like the ring to it” she said smiling.
He picked up the call and by the time he was through with the call, Ego knew he was off again to save the world. “Are you the only surgeon they have in Life Memorial?” she asked slightly ticked off. “This is my time, why can’t they let me enjoy it” she cried.
“Oh come on my Precious, I won’t be long. Besides, what kind of surgeon would I be if I do not help people? Please understand.” He begged wiping her tears with his fingers “When I get back, you and I are in for a blast” he held her hand and looking at the ring asked “Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding me, it’s beautiful.” She said
“No girl, you are beautiful” he said bending over to kiss her.
As he got to the door, he turned around and said “Welcome to the family of the Bridge’s, we are one crazy bunch I must warn you.”
“I don’t care about the Bridge’s, I care about you Toks” she replied.
He smiled at her “I hate you Mrs. Bridge”
“I hate you too Mr. Bridge” she replied.
As he stepped outside, he thought of his dad. He would love to see the look of disappointment on his face when he breaks the news of his planned marriage to Ego. “Disappointment number five” he said out loud.
Disappointment number one was studying Medicine, number two was not going into the family business, number three was working in Life Memorial instead of working for the UN like had been arranged, number four was not supporting his political ambitions and now number five marrying Ego, a no class nobody (in the words of his father) unlike the preferred choice of Halima daughter of his father’s business partner.
“We are ready for you Mr. Bridge” came nurse Kemi snapping him back to reality.
“Nurse Kemi, how many times have I told you to stop calling me Mr. Bridge, call me Toks” he said with a wide grin which showed off his perfect white set of teeth.
“God!” nurse Kemi thought “I love this guy… his thick British accent is just so cool”
Toks knew she had a mad crush on him, but so did half the female staff in the hospital. Tokundo was one of those guys that seemed to have it all, a proportionate body, intelligent, good looks; he was polite and proper with a great dress sense from a rich and influential family.
“Who’s the new patient” he asked
“A young female, she was brought in not long ago” she answered
“Is it still from the first set of accidents?”
“No sir, this one’s a new set of casualties”
“What is it with accidents today?” he looked at his watch and knew Ego would be pissed at him.
“Time flies in this place” he thought to himself. He picked up his phone and dialed Ego’s number but got the annoying voice “… the number you’re trying to reach is not available at the…” he cut off the call at that point.
“I’m in real trouble” he said out loud.
“Why sir?” nurse Kemi asked
“Oh, it’s my fiancée, she must be pissed”
“Lucky fiancée” Kemi thought.
Toks and Kemi stepped into the theatre and exchanged pleasantries with the others.
“So, are we ready?” asked Dr. Saater Okar, the chief medical doctor.
“Yes sir” answered Toks. “Busy day right?” asked Dr. Saater
“Crazy’ replied Toks.
Dr. Saater Okar was in his twenty fifth year of practice and of all his surgeons, Tokunbo was his favorite. He had never seen that much brilliance and seriousness to duty from a young man as Tokunbo.
“So, what do we have here” Tokunbo asked.
“A young female, about 20 to 25 years of age, multiple fracture, internal bleeding and severe burns… she’s in pretty bad shape Toks”
“What are her vitals?”
“Blood pressure’s okay, heart beat weak but steady”
As he stepped closer to the patient, Tokunbo froze.
“What’s wrong?” Dr. Saater asked.
Tears dropped from Tokunbo’s eyes. There lay Ego with the diamond ring he had just given her on her hand.
Ben was on his way to the mortuary, he had not been able to identify Mercy his wife from the list, so the next point of call was the mortuary. The beating of his heart had increased, he felt sick and nauseated. His mind drifted to earlier in the day when he was getting ready to drop Mercy off at the park.
“Young lady, are you planning on packing the whole house with you?” he teased her.
“No oh, it’s the compound I’m packing” she answered throwing her bag at him. Ben docked to the left in other to dodge her bag but lost his balance and fell instead.
“Ooooh! Kill me o!” he said “Kill me before you leave so you can marry another man”
“A much more handsome man at that with no pot belly” she said jumping on him and laughing loudly. “I’ll miss you big belle” she said poking him on the tummy.”
“Why won’t you miss me when for two weeks you won’t be cooking… go jo’” he said carrying her up.
“Small woman, the only reason I married you was because I thought you’ll still grow taller…”
“Me ma, na because I think say you go still fine, instead na belle you go carry.” She said poking his pot belly again.
“Oya come dey go, you’ll miss your bus and I’ll miss my meeting.” Thirty minutes later he was kissing her good bye.
“Remember to call o!” he reminded her.
“My battery is weak but once I reach, I’ll call” she replied moving away.
Ben watched as she walked off in the sky blue tee shirt he had bought for her which had “I LOVE MY MAN” boldly written on it. She wore a black jean that highlighted her curves.
“Damn, I’ve got some great taste” he said to himself. “See backa!” he shouted after her. She turned to face him with a mischievous smile as if to say “You naughty man” and with her five fingers stretched out like that of a web said “Waka!”
“Kia! Ni?” he said in hausa “Walai, zan mara ki fa” But she was already gone.
“Excuse me sir… excuse sir… sir…” a voice called to him jolting him from his thoughts.
“Sir, please it’s your turn” she said politely. Bens heart was beating like a race track “God, please… let her not be here” for someone who hadn’t prayed for so long he had said over sixty short prayers since he got the phone call telling him that one of the buses of the transport company his wife had boarded was involved in an accident. He wasn’t sure if it was the same one his wife was in but he couldn’t get across to her and no one had heard from her either since she took off this morning.
He walked through several lifeless bodies, he had never seen so many before, he couldn’t picture Mercy amongst them. Then he saw her. He could hardly make out her face but it was her alright or so he thought the same blue top and black jeans.
Everywhere suddenly looked fussy and felt stuffy; he felt like throwing up, he ran outside like a mad man. “No it can’t be her that was not the plan!” he screamed.
Tokunbo was in his car driving , Ego had died. They couldn’t save her. He knew if he had done the surgery himself he would have been able to save her but no, they wouldn’t allow him. Stupid hospital policy he thought, he was too attached to the patient they said.
“It’s God’s plan” Dr. Saater had tried to console him. “What stupid plan!” he shouted. If it was actually Gods plan, then he wanted nothing to do with him. “God’s plan my ass!”
Tokunbo was in shock, he was hurting. He was absent minded and in no frame to drive but he just wanted to run away from everything and everyone. Someone suddenly came out of no where onto the road but before Tokunbo could stop the car, he had hit the person.
Ben lay on the road bleeding; he had walked onto the road without looking. He welcomed the thought of dying, after all what was there to live for he thought to himself as he lay on the floor life slowly slipping away. He could hear his phone ring somewhere around him and his dying heart skipped a bit. That was Mercy’s ring tone. What kind of joke was this? Was she alive? But he had seen her lying lifeless a while ago in the mortuary, then it hit him. The tee shirt he had seen on the body was plain blue; it had no writing on it unlike the one worn by Mercy which had I love my man written boldly on it! He smiled as he lay on the floor, life was playing him he thought, he tried to hold on to life ‘because he felt it slowly leaving him, he was beginning to get cold. With his fading vision, he saw a good looking young man come into his line of vision, “was he in heaven? Was this guy an angel?” he thought. He couldn’t clearly make out what the young man was saying but he seemed scared “Stay with me… stay with me… don’t you dare die on me” he could finally hear what the young man was saying as he lifted him into his car.
Tokunbo was in his car trying to start the car “where did you come from” he was saying out loud as the engine kicked. “I sure can’t handle this right now God… you think this is funny?” he was saying as he put the car into gear and stepping on the accelerator.
The last thing Ben heard before everything went black was the sound of his phone fade away as he was being driven away in this strange car.
“…hello how you doing my angel my one and only…” his phone rang again on the floor.
‘Where is she? ... Where is my wife?’ Ben stormed into the hospital screaming. ‘Where is my wife?’
A pretty looking nurse approached him “Sir, what is the problem?” she asked, with concern in her voice.
“My wife… My wife” Ben tried to answer.
“Your wife sir? What is wrong with her?” nurse Becky asked trying to make sense of what this hysteric man was saying.
“They called me… they called me…” Ben said, still trying to construct a sentence but with so much difficulty.
“Nurse Becky what is the problem?” asked a round short lady in her fifties.
“It’s this man matron… he’s asking for his wife, he…” nurse Becky answered.
“My wife, where is she?” Ben asked again stopping Nurse Becky from completing her sentence.
“What is wrong with your wife sir?” Matron Agaga asked holding Ben firmly by the shoulder. “Tell us what the problem is?” she asked again but this time her voice was like that of a general giving an order.
“An accident… they called me… they said…” Ben tried to explain but still couldn’t get himself together.
Nurse Becky and Matron Agaga gave each other a knowing look then turned to Ben “Sir, you’re at the wrong place…”
“Wrong place? Is this not Life Memorial?” Ben interrupted.
“It is sir, what I mean is that you are supposed to be at the casualty ward not here” Matron Agaga replied.
“So where is the casualty ward?” he asked this time with better composure.
“Don’t worry, Nurse Becky will take you there” she said leading him towards a door way by his left.
As Nurse Becky led Ben to the casualty ward, she felt pity for him. She had heard about the accident, in fact, she was in the casualty ward when the first van came in with the casualties. It was a gory sight, there was so much screaming, so much pain, so much disorder, so much tears. In her ten years as a nurse she had never seen what she saw today, it was scary and made her thank God for being alive.
“Sir, you will have to wait here” she said pointing to a bench by her far right which already had two other people sitted.
“But I want to… “Ben tried to speak. “Don’t worry sir, you will be attended to shortly, I promise” she said compassionately trying to reassure him.
Ben took his seat. He could see other people around him, the lady by his left had swollen eyes from crying, her makeup was all over her face. The tears had stopped pouring and her voice was gone. From the lady consoling her he could tell that she had lost her son and her husband was in critical condition.
“Esther, it’s going to be fine o... let’s keep praying” the younger lady beside her consoled. The doctor walked in at that moment and everyone ran towards him for the latest update on their loved ones, praying for some good news.
“I’ll First like to extend my sincere sympathies to you all” he started “We have come up with a list of everyone we have identified and in what condition they are in.” he paused taking a look at everyone “for those we can not identify, we will need your help. Those of…”
At that point Ben stopped listening, he bent his head and said a short prayer “Father, please let her be alive… she is my everything” that was his first prayer in about seven years.
Tokunbo Marcus Bridge poured water over his face; he had just finished an amputation and was getting ready for another surgery. Today was crazy he thought, he had been dragged out of his house at the middle of something very important. He had just proposed to Ego his girlfriend of five years and she had accepted when the call came.
“Don’t pick it dear” she pleaded
“You know I have to Mrs. Ego Bridge” he said with a wide grin on his face.
“Mrs. Ego Bridge” she repeated “I like the ring to it” she said smiling.
He picked up the call and by the time he was through with the call, Ego knew he was off again to save the world. “Are you the only surgeon they have in Life Memorial?” she asked slightly ticked off. “This is my time, why can’t they let me enjoy it” she cried.
“Oh come on my Precious, I won’t be long. Besides, what kind of surgeon would I be if I do not help people? Please understand.” He begged wiping her tears with his fingers “When I get back, you and I are in for a blast” he held her hand and looking at the ring asked “Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding me, it’s beautiful.” She said
“No girl, you are beautiful” he said bending over to kiss her.
As he got to the door, he turned around and said “Welcome to the family of the Bridge’s, we are one crazy bunch I must warn you.”
“I don’t care about the Bridge’s, I care about you Toks” she replied.
He smiled at her “I hate you Mrs. Bridge”
“I hate you too Mr. Bridge” she replied.
As he stepped outside, he thought of his dad. He would love to see the look of disappointment on his face when he breaks the news of his planned marriage to Ego. “Disappointment number five” he said out loud.
Disappointment number one was studying Medicine, number two was not going into the family business, number three was working in Life Memorial instead of working for the UN like had been arranged, number four was not supporting his political ambitions and now number five marrying Ego, a no class nobody (in the words of his father) unlike the preferred choice of Halima daughter of his father’s business partner.
“We are ready for you Mr. Bridge” came nurse Kemi snapping him back to reality.
“Nurse Kemi, how many times have I told you to stop calling me Mr. Bridge, call me Toks” he said with a wide grin which showed off his perfect white set of teeth.
“God!” nurse Kemi thought “I love this guy… his thick British accent is just so cool”
Toks knew she had a mad crush on him, but so did half the female staff in the hospital. Tokundo was one of those guys that seemed to have it all, a proportionate body, intelligent, good looks; he was polite and proper with a great dress sense from a rich and influential family.
“Who’s the new patient” he asked
“A young female, she was brought in not long ago” she answered
“Is it still from the first set of accidents?”
“No sir, this one’s a new set of casualties”
“What is it with accidents today?” he looked at his watch and knew Ego would be pissed at him.
“Time flies in this place” he thought to himself. He picked up his phone and dialed Ego’s number but got the annoying voice “… the number you’re trying to reach is not available at the…” he cut off the call at that point.
“I’m in real trouble” he said out loud.
“Why sir?” nurse Kemi asked
“Oh, it’s my fiancée, she must be pissed”
“Lucky fiancée” Kemi thought.
Toks and Kemi stepped into the theatre and exchanged pleasantries with the others.
“So, are we ready?” asked Dr. Saater Okar, the chief medical doctor.
“Yes sir” answered Toks. “Busy day right?” asked Dr. Saater
“Crazy’ replied Toks.
Dr. Saater Okar was in his twenty fifth year of practice and of all his surgeons, Tokunbo was his favorite. He had never seen that much brilliance and seriousness to duty from a young man as Tokunbo.
“So, what do we have here” Tokunbo asked.
“A young female, about 20 to 25 years of age, multiple fracture, internal bleeding and severe burns… she’s in pretty bad shape Toks”
“What are her vitals?”
“Blood pressure’s okay, heart beat weak but steady”
As he stepped closer to the patient, Tokunbo froze.
“What’s wrong?” Dr. Saater asked.
Tears dropped from Tokunbo’s eyes. There lay Ego with the diamond ring he had just given her on her hand.
Ben was on his way to the mortuary, he had not been able to identify Mercy his wife from the list, so the next point of call was the mortuary. The beating of his heart had increased, he felt sick and nauseated. His mind drifted to earlier in the day when he was getting ready to drop Mercy off at the park.
“Young lady, are you planning on packing the whole house with you?” he teased her.
“No oh, it’s the compound I’m packing” she answered throwing her bag at him. Ben docked to the left in other to dodge her bag but lost his balance and fell instead.
“Ooooh! Kill me o!” he said “Kill me before you leave so you can marry another man”
“A much more handsome man at that with no pot belly” she said jumping on him and laughing loudly. “I’ll miss you big belle” she said poking him on the tummy.”
“Why won’t you miss me when for two weeks you won’t be cooking… go jo’” he said carrying her up.
“Small woman, the only reason I married you was because I thought you’ll still grow taller…”
“Me ma, na because I think say you go still fine, instead na belle you go carry.” She said poking his pot belly again.
“Oya come dey go, you’ll miss your bus and I’ll miss my meeting.” Thirty minutes later he was kissing her good bye.
“Remember to call o!” he reminded her.
“My battery is weak but once I reach, I’ll call” she replied moving away.
Ben watched as she walked off in the sky blue tee shirt he had bought for her which had “I LOVE MY MAN” boldly written on it. She wore a black jean that highlighted her curves.
“Damn, I’ve got some great taste” he said to himself. “See backa!” he shouted after her. She turned to face him with a mischievous smile as if to say “You naughty man” and with her five fingers stretched out like that of a web said “Waka!”
“Kia! Ni?” he said in hausa “Walai, zan mara ki fa” But she was already gone.
“Excuse me sir… excuse sir… sir…” a voice called to him jolting him from his thoughts.
“Sir, please it’s your turn” she said politely. Bens heart was beating like a race track “God, please… let her not be here” for someone who hadn’t prayed for so long he had said over sixty short prayers since he got the phone call telling him that one of the buses of the transport company his wife had boarded was involved in an accident. He wasn’t sure if it was the same one his wife was in but he couldn’t get across to her and no one had heard from her either since she took off this morning.
He walked through several lifeless bodies, he had never seen so many before, he couldn’t picture Mercy amongst them. Then he saw her. He could hardly make out her face but it was her alright or so he thought the same blue top and black jeans.
Everywhere suddenly looked fussy and felt stuffy; he felt like throwing up, he ran outside like a mad man. “No it can’t be her that was not the plan!” he screamed.
Tokunbo was in his car driving , Ego had died. They couldn’t save her. He knew if he had done the surgery himself he would have been able to save her but no, they wouldn’t allow him. Stupid hospital policy he thought, he was too attached to the patient they said.
“It’s God’s plan” Dr. Saater had tried to console him. “What stupid plan!” he shouted. If it was actually Gods plan, then he wanted nothing to do with him. “God’s plan my ass!”
Tokunbo was in shock, he was hurting. He was absent minded and in no frame to drive but he just wanted to run away from everything and everyone. Someone suddenly came out of no where onto the road but before Tokunbo could stop the car, he had hit the person.
Ben lay on the road bleeding; he had walked onto the road without looking. He welcomed the thought of dying, after all what was there to live for he thought to himself as he lay on the floor life slowly slipping away. He could hear his phone ring somewhere around him and his dying heart skipped a bit. That was Mercy’s ring tone. What kind of joke was this? Was she alive? But he had seen her lying lifeless a while ago in the mortuary, then it hit him. The tee shirt he had seen on the body was plain blue; it had no writing on it unlike the one worn by Mercy which had I love my man written boldly on it! He smiled as he lay on the floor, life was playing him he thought, he tried to hold on to life ‘because he felt it slowly leaving him, he was beginning to get cold. With his fading vision, he saw a good looking young man come into his line of vision, “was he in heaven? Was this guy an angel?” he thought. He couldn’t clearly make out what the young man was saying but he seemed scared “Stay with me… stay with me… don’t you dare die on me” he could finally hear what the young man was saying as he lifted him into his car.
Tokunbo was in his car trying to start the car “where did you come from” he was saying out loud as the engine kicked. “I sure can’t handle this right now God… you think this is funny?” he was saying as he put the car into gear and stepping on the accelerator.
The last thing Ben heard before everything went black was the sound of his phone fade away as he was being driven away in this strange car.
“…hello how you doing my angel my one and only…” his phone rang again on the floor.
Monday, January 17, 2011
GIRLS! GIRLS!! GIRLS!!!
I read a particular article a while ago titled “Boys, boys, boys.” In which the writer was talking about what she wanted in a man other than the regular God fearing, loving, trustworthy, caring and blah blah stuff that every other woman wants. It got me thinking and so I decided to write about what I want in a woman other than the regular. So listen up if you have the hots for me, you just might learn one or two stuff.
Now I know there is a craze among ladies and some stupid guys to want to speak with an English or American accent, well, sorry to burst your bubble but that stuff just don’t work for me. I’m not saying if you so happen to naturally have these accents from living abroad I’mma write you off, no, but I can’t understand why an “Abike” who has lived in Lagos all her life and the closest she been to London is “Osakpa London” in Benin will be saying “you know what am saying” seriously aunty I don’t. The annoying thing is you get to hear these accents with a lot of mother tongue interference; it’s a turn off for me. but don’t get me wrong , just because I don’t like them fake accents doesn’t mean I don’t want a woman that can speak English properly. All I’m asking for is for you to speak it properly with no “H” or “Nna” factor, is that too hard? I mean why should I meet a girl and she goes “I like Mr. Biggs more better” or “Please reply me back” come on! You should be able to make a complete sentence without “I’bo’n” abi na “arrow”. Also, an extra point would be a girl that can speck pidgin English well, isn’t it just sexy to hear a girl say “babes, you too mush” or “guy no dull me o”.
I think every guy will agree with me when I say he wants a woman that would stick with him through all the wahala. Yes, I know you girls are tender and soft but please can you look beyond the no cars and no money and just see the brother for what he is? A girl that would tell you “whether na one naira or na one million baby you’ve got me” is all we ask for. Because if you stay now follow chop kwa kwa, when I’m chilling by bay Takwa with friends like Obama and Oprah guess whose gonna be my baby mama. It’s that simple. And don’t give me that excuse of when we finally make the money; we go looking for other girls… it’s been over used. Try something else.
I’m a very smart fella, I know this because I’ve made many so called smart persons feel dumb around me, so it would be a delight to meet someone for a change that doesn’t just read gossip magazines but also takes time to read current affairs or doesn’t only watch “E” but also tunes to CNN or National geographic “baby believe me it wouldn’t kill you to gain a little knowledge.” What am I saying? (If you haven’t gotten it yet then you’re really slow) I want a girl that is smart and fun that I too can learn from. A girl that I can be her student and she can play the teacher and she can spank me hard whenever (hmmm that sounds dirty) I’m not talking about “book knowledge alone” but general stuff , someone that we can both be fountains of knowledge overflowing into each other; okay, this is turning perverted. But you get my drift? Otherwise, I might get so frustrated one night and be forced to go “OJ Simpson” on her.
This particular point is very important girls. You must posses’ mad sex appeal like Kim Kardashain and Nicki Minaj. I’m not saying you must be a ten or have the best shape in the world, no, but just be sexy. Walk around the house naked or at least with my tee shirt alone so that I can see you as the wind gently blows it from side to side. Let me come home to meet you in some sexy lingerie’s just seating with your legs apart waiting for me or dropping by the office every once in a while, even sending a naughty text message to me in the middle of the day would do like “I’ve got nothing on.” Okay, I gotta stop now before I say some more stuff. Do all that and more and I would proudly like D’banj be your “Scapegoat”
This point might make me sound devilish but what the hell, it’s my choice not yours. I do not want a lady that is unnecessarily godly. Go to church, pray, attend bible meetings, live right; try to bring me closer to God, do all that but know when to draw the line. Do not tell me that we must pray before we have sex or stop wearing ear rings or trousers because God said so or carry all the food stuff and money in the house to the pastor in the name of sowing a seed (aunty, dat one na sowing a farm, I don pass seed) do not tell me that you wouldn’t take pain killers for your headache or see the doctor for that pain because you’re waiting for God to heal you. I might not be the holiest brother around but I know God wants the best for us and it sure ain’t that.
I’m looking for a girl that can pick up the bills too. There is no rule that says it’s in the guys place to always pay the bills, then why are you working girl? Listen closely, the reason why guys today would rather date a girl with an education and is working is solely for the reason that she too can hold her own and support him. What did you think? To show you off? You should be able to pick up some bills in the house otherwise, do not complain when I start saying it’s my house and my car and my TV! I know you girls hate to hear it so, don’t give us the chance to use it. Trust me; your man would certainly value you better if you too picked up the bill.
Finally, looks. Notice how it’s the last thing I’m talking about, well, it’s because it’s the least important thing. I’m not saying if you looked like Iyabo Obasanjo or an ape I’ll be all over you, no. just be presentable, have a wonderful dress sense, be able to use fashion to hide your minuses and bring out your strong points. There is nothing like a woman who can dress well, there’s always something to marvel at. You can borrow one or two things from my Ex, Eva Mendez (you didn’t know we dated? You should check OK magazines of four years ago, we were quite an item then) she never went wrong in that area. In addition, try to be a people’s person, I should be able to introduce you to my friends that you don’t know and in the next thirty minutes one would swear that you had always known them.
I’m done, did I ask for anything unrealistic or something that no one woman can posses? You tell me.
*Credit: This write up was inspired from an article published in Soundcity Blast Magazine (2009) written by Laide Olabode titled "Boys boys boys". Some lines were lifted from the original article.
*Credit: This write up was inspired from an article published in Soundcity Blast Magazine (2009) written by Laide Olabode titled "Boys boys boys". Some lines were lifted from the original article.
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