Quick Sand on a Plateau
She always knew she wanted to be rich and famous; she wanted the world to know her name, girls to aspire to be her and boys to want to marry her. She wanted to leave a legacy of strength, ambition, love, change, power and wisdom. She knew it was conceited but she wanted people across the globe to know her name…for her principles, her drive and her humanity. She didn’t want to die without having left a mark in the sands of time. And best of all, she didn’t want the want the fame or money for just herself; she wanted it for everyone she knew. She was 12 when she realized what she wanted. She took a book and wrote it all down. At 25, she was going to be a millionaire. At 35, she would set up her foundation. At 55, she would have helped at least 50,000 people in one way or the other. When she died at 80, people would troop to her burial and hold vigils in their countries to celebrate the icon that she was. She knew where she was headed and nothing was going to deter her. She worked hard in school and always came up on top. She was going to be the greatest actor there ever was. She knew it all had to start in high school and she needed to get those grades in good shape for the choice schools she wanted to go to. And she went a little further. She joined every drama team in her small town, ensuring she played every possible role that was open to her. She was preparing for her domination on the world stage. She needed to be ready. As soon as she was done with her education, she pieced together her show reel, packed a suitcase, counted the money she had hidden in her underwear drawer and left home. She knew her parents would understand. Or not. But she hoped her letter would reassure them that she was doing what was best for her. There was only so much she could do in their small town. And she wasn’t going to waste more time going through the motions. She jumped on a bus and headed to the big city; a city of lights, camera and action. She knew she was going to be a star! Then she could make money to help people from and in dysfunctional homes. When she got to the big city, the first thing that hit her wasn’t the beauty of the town or the exotic people. It was the fact that there was so many people who were like her; searching for the spotlight. She wasn’t fazed though. She knew that she was special and people would see her light. So she worked; hard. Everywhere she heard there was an audition, she went and performed her favorite monologue. The Plateau The first time she got a role in film, she was excited. She jumped and danced and laughed. She called home, ecstatic about her role in a crowd scene. It was small; and she knew that. But nothing could contain her excitement. Well…almost nothing. ‘It is just a small role. Why are you so excited? You could be staring in bigger productions here at home.’ Her mother said as soon as she blurted out her ‘good news’. Nothing turned sour quicker. She went through the motions of listening to her mother (and father) and as soon as she could, she hung up. She forced her spirit to seek its light and prepared for the role. That was the beginning. Every time she walked into an audition, she walked out with a role. They were always small; guaranteeing her 6 seconds of time in the shadow of a star. But she took them all with excitement. She knew that if she kept at it, she would become big and famous and rich. Soon acting wasn’t enough. Directors were asking that actors sing, dance, play an instrument, juggle, and be proficient with card tricks or whatever tickled their fancy. Not to be left out, she enrolled in all sorts of classes. She took burlesque, magic, singing, martial arts classes and whatever new thing was the rave of the moment. She even took jobs as a gaffer to ensure she was always in the know of film world happenings. She worked hard, slept little, rehearsed a lot, and attended lots of auditions. While these ensured she always got a role, it didn’t improve her straits. Directors only cast her in small roles with even smaller pay. Soon, the Ferris wheel began to take its toll. She started to reflect about her life. Why didn’t directors cast her in bigger roles? Was there something she wasn’t doing right? Was she giving off a bad vibe? Was her talent not good enough? Was. She. In. Any. Way. Special? Reality began to set in. Of course she wasn’t special. If anything, she was…average. There were millions of average people like her and directors saw that every day. She didn’t stand out in a crowd; she fit right in. She called home, hoping for reassurance from her parents. Her parents were understanding, but they reminded her that she should never have left. She had the world at her feet in their small town, and would have always been a legend. She could always come back home and start again; the town hadn’t forgotten her yet. She hung up with one resolve; she was never going to call her parents. They didn’t understand that she didn’t want to be queen of a small town. She wanted to be queen of the world! She wanted people from all continents knowing her name. And even if took forever, she was going to achieve that! Her resolve didn’t force the universe’s hand. Or cause her to get any big roles. And soon her excitement wavered…and like the hamster, she got burned out. She was 20 when she
How Meeting Attah Samson Igoche Inspired Me
Attah Igoche at his Office As my taxi rolled to a stop in front of the building that housed Aiivon Innovation hub, I was a bit nervous. I was supposed to be meeting – for the first time – someone I had been chatting with on Facebook. I wondered what first impression I would be giving and more than that, what impression I would be getting. I was also nervous because I hadn’t done an interview in a long time and I hoped I still had my wits about me. As I entered the building, I was awed by the sheer beauty of the place. My inhibitions began to ebb away as excitement swept over me. I suddenly became my old, fun and bubbly self. I was twirling around, taking selfies and being generally being goofy. I forgot that I was supposed to be professional and well put together. In my excitement, I didn’t know he had come up behind me. My only clue was the look his front desk officer sent past me. I turned and there he was. Attah Samson Igoche. Dressed in dark jeans, a black shirt emblazoned with ‘Aiivon’and a navy blue blazer, he was the picture of calm sophistication. I smiled, my nervousness returning. He propelled me to follow him and we went into his office. Again, I was blown away. The floor-to-ceiling wallpaper that graced the reception and other areas of the office was replicated in his office. I had to ask. ‘Did you get these wallpapers like this?’ He smiled. Satisfied. ‘We designed it.’ I was tempted to think he was showing off but his matter-of-fact tone showed he wasn’t; just stating the fact. I asked that he give me a tour and he obliged. I was ‘oohh’ing and ‘aahh’ing as we went from offices spaces for prospective clients to conference rooms for hackathons/tech brainstorming sessions to private spaces for quieter work. Everything seemed so well put together! Even the game corner and selfie wall had me feeling like home. It was the perfect nerd pad! I could imagine getting major ideas just because of the ambience, playing World of Warcraft when I was tired – though I am more of a word game person – and generally being around creatives like myself. To cover it in one sentence, I was impressed! I turned my attention to the man behind the idea; or in front. I wanted to know what he was like beneath the veneer of sophistication, the choices that led him to being the man he is today and what plans he had for the future of his business. We returned to his office and I switched personalities. It was time to be professional and serious. He offered me a nice cupcake and a drink. I smiled. I knew I was going to like this interview. The answer I got when I asked about his family threw me off. I totally didn’t expect to have tears in my eyes as he relayed his childhood. And it all started with his mother discovering that her pregnancy was high risk and could cost her life. ‘My mum kinda knew that she may not make it. She had complications three months into the pregnancy and had the choice of aborting me. Thing is, she was told the abortion may result in her never having another child. The pregnancy on the other hand presented a 50-50 chance of survival. She died on the day she gave birth to me. She chose to keep me, knowing that she was not assured of life if she carried me to term. So she wrote me a letter that I got to read a couple of years later and it showed me, even though I never got to meet her, the kind of person she was and everything that she stood for. The day I read the letter was one of the most emotional days for me. She is one reason I respect ladies a lot. I don’t know which man would do that.’ He should have had the teary eyes but he was calm about it. I on the other was about to disgrace my family. I breathed deeply, blinked back a couple of times and got myself together. Then I asked about his father. ‘I was with my grandma until my father died. I was fifteen at the time and in Senior Secondary School (SSS) 1. I had truly become an orphan.’ And things went south for Igoche after that. He knew that he had to take the direction of his life into his own hands if he was survive. Getting school fees had become a problem and even though his aunties were willing to step in and take care of his fees, Igoche knew things could get harder eventually. So, he wrote his General Certificate of Secondary Education (GCSE) examinations. ‘I finished my secondary school in Special Science, Makurdi though I was there for just one year. For some reason, I wrote my GSCE in SS1 and the results were good so I had to bust the rest of secondary school. The results came out in SS2 first term and when I saw it was good, I knew I was done with school. I felt like, going to school was no longer necessary. Dad and Mum were dead and having to go about looking for school fees was not something I wanted to do. So when I saw that the result was good, I decided there was no point to it.’ For someone who was fifteen, it must have taken a lot of courage to make that decision. And a lot of pride too. The death of his parents quickly matured him. A bit too soon I would say. Turned out that plan was not properly thought out. ‘I didn’t write the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) then.
Tonia Orevba Roberts: Dropping Her Pretty
Tonia Orevba Image: Facebook I woke up thinking of Tonia Orevba Roberts. Tonia is a beautiful actor cum model whom I met in 2016 at the Royal Arts Academy, Lagos. I had gone to brush up my directing skills and she had come in as an acting student. The first thing I noticed about her was that she was so well put together; her hair was so perfectly groomed, her face perfectly made up, he nails perfectly painted and her outfit? Yes! Perfectly selected. I knew this was a girl that loved to make a statement with her look. Though we were polar opposites in terms of our style, we became friends. Soon, we were going home together and sharing ideas. When it was time to do our class project – a collaborative short film by all script writers, directors, actors and editors in our set – Tonia was cast in a supporting role; something I stood firmly against. I didn’t think she was fit for role or could deliver well. She was just too pretty and too put together to deliver the kind of acting I wanted. To keep the peace, I accepted the casting and kept quiet. On the day of the shoot, I was apprehensive. I am a perfectionist and it was important that my first attempt at a film goes well. I needed it to be just right. The entire cast and crew had slept in the school the night before and while it was a bonding experience, it served to increase my fears about Tonia. She didn’t do much of a rehearsal and when she did, it was always playful. I mentally prepared myself for a long day. We got the actors in makeup and I told the artist, ‘Bad makeup for Tonia. She needs to look like a poor girl who has no money to buy good makeup products but tries to make do with what she has. Make Tonia’s makeup look ratchet.’ That was not in the script…or my original plan. But I wanted to see if she would let go of her ‘pretty’. As expected, Tonia rebelled. ‘Ha ahn! No oh! I cannot do that. I am going to look good. You can’t spoil my market?’ I was mad. She was my friend and all but I felt like it would be hard working with her. ‘Tonia, I am not saying poor girls cannot be fine. I am saying that I want to portray you as a girl who loves to look good but who doesn’t know how to.’ She protested some more and soon enough, I was visibly angry. I left the room to cool off. Most people didn’t know how mad I was because I didn’t lose my cool. I decided I would be better off at the location than overseeing makeup. I didn’t see Tonia until it was call time. I was shocked! Not only was Tonia poorly dressed, her makeup was so hideous I couldn’t help but laugh. And she was laughing herself. ‘No mind this Ramat. She wan spoil my market.’ Even though she had accepted to wear horrible makeup, I kept my fingers crossed to see how she would act. I blocked the scenes and we did a dry run. Boy was I shocked! I wished I had recorded the dry run. That was how good Tonia was! Not only did she drop her pretty, she became the ratchet character she was supposed to be. Turned out that while we slept, Tonia worked hard at trying to get her lines and in character. Never had I been so impressed with a character portrayal than I was with Tonia’s delivery in that moment. It wasn’t an Oscar-worthy performance but it could have been for how excited I was. I love to see an actor morph into a character and Tonia did that for me. Tonia was a delight to work with and all the other directors I worked with on the project said the same thing about her. That moment, and her performance of one of Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu’s speeches, forever endeared her to me as a performer. One of the hardest things a pretty woman can do is ‘drop her pretty’. To agree to become someone else, at the cost of changing the perception people had about her – and all this in the era of memes – is something I admire about Tonia. She showed me that when push came to shove, she wouldn’t let her pretty get in the way of getting the job done. Many women can learn from this. I think we spend too much time worrying about how we look. There are times when we have to get down and dirty to achieve certain goals. If we worry too much about how we look – and as a result, how people perceive us – we stand a greater chance of losing out on so many things in life. A pretty woman is just that; pretty. But a pretty woman with an intelligent mind and drive is just… wow! That performance opened some doors for Tonia. She has gone on to star in many other films in the past year and she is sure to rise to the peak she desires. I don’t know if she hears this a lot but I want to tell Tonia Orevba this; ‘You are a beautiful actor. Keep honing your art and soon, you will be where you want to be. Thank you for inspiring me’. For this, Tonia darling, you are my #WomanCrush. Contact her on Instagram @toniao_roberts. Though my first foray into film making was barely average, I am so proud to have been a part of the making of Blurred. If you haven’t seen it, do so 👇. PS: Don’t laugh oh! This is my start! I promise to make even better movies.
IDPs: Seeing Beyond the Statistics
All Images: Ramatu Ada Ochekliye A visit to the Internally Displaced People’s camp in Durumi, Abuja on May 28, 2017 was everything I expected it would be; emotionally draining. We partnered with Save OurWomen Foundation (SOW Foundation) for the #1Girl1Pad project, a project that saw us advocating for menstrual hygiene for girls and women in the IDP camp. The project entailed educating these girls and women about menstrual hygiene and providing them with sanitary pads to last them at least three months. As many know, May 28 is #MenstrualHygieneDay and globally, individuals and organizations design events to ensure more women get access to menstrual hygiene education and products. As soon as we got into the camp, we were surrounded by children excited at our presence. They smiled up at us with the true innocence of children; trusting that we were good even if we were total strangers. I quickly took out my camera. The children lit up when they saw it. I smiled at them and they smiled right back. They had already begun to take poses and I was not going to disappoint them. So I clicked. And clicked. ‘Say kiss! Say kiss!’ the kids kept saying. I thought I wasn’t hearing them well. ‘Say Kiss’? Were they trying to say ‘Cheese’? I smiled. Of course that was what they were saying. “Say Cheese”! And then I noticed something else. Almost all the children put up two fingers in the air when posing for the camera. I shouldn’t have been surprised…but I was. It seemed like in spite of all the problems these people were going through, popular culture still seeped into the camp and influenced the young people and children. Even the smallest child put up those fingers when the camera was pointed at them. And can you see those big smiles?! These children had a lot working against them but they were genuinely excited at having their picture taken. They didn’t even ask to see what the shots looked like. I could have been clicking the flash lights for all they cared. All they saw was a person with a camera paying attention to them. The simplicity of it all was almost my undoing. I turned away to focus on our reason for visiting. As we educated the girls and women about menstrual hygiene, we began to hear of some of the problems they were facing. One of the problems that I considered a sore thumb was the access to medical care. Most of the women and girls said they ‘managed’ their pain until it rode over because there were no doctors to help them. Again, I looked at the children – gathering at the door because they had been told the meeting wasn’t for them – and I wondered how they ‘managed’ their pain. Looking at them, you couldn’t tell they were going through anything. They were are as carefree and jolly as children are wont to be. We finished the education part and went into disseminating the pads we raised via donations. As we gave each girl and woman a package of pads and panties, the children returned, clamoring around us in the hopes of getting theirs. Older women shooed them away but the children returned as soon as the women’s backs were turned. They kept stretching their hands to get a package. Even though we insisted the sanitary pads weren’t for them, the children didn’t budge. He took a pose after I gave him the sanitary pads So I took a packet and broke it open. I gave two pads each to the little girls; even though it was clear they couldn’t possibly be menstruating yet. As I gave them the pads, the crowd around us thinned out and it was at this point I noticed a little boy in the mix, arms stretched out, face almost crumbling. He didn’t want to miss out what everyone else was getting. I told him I couldn’t give him because he is a boy. He crumbled at this point. I held his face and asked what he wanted to do with it. His reply was definitely my undoing. ‘For my mother.’ The tears were a second away from falling so I turned away into the boot of our vehicle and calmed my nerves. I breathed in deeply and willed the tears to go away. I took out two sanitary pads and gave him. He curtsied and said thank you. I knew I needed to take more deep breaths. Something distracted me and when I turned back, the boy was gone. It occurred to me that I had not asked his name. I was ashamed because until that moment, he was a statistic, a child in an IDP camp, one of many. I wished I had seen him as an individual, one with a story, possible fears and hopes and most especially, a name! I wished that I had focused more on him instead of getting shots of everyone around me. I wished I had dignified him by, at the very least, knowing his name so I didn’t have to refer to him in this post as ‘a little boy’. But he is a little boy, a child in an IDP Camp, one of many and to some, a statistic. And the longer he has to make do with the problems all the children and women in that camp are facing – problems ranging from rationed meals, poor access to health care, inadequate housing and privacy, little or no formal education and the indignity of depending on do-gooders for basic necessities – the more likely it is that he becomes an even worse statistic; one tied to crime, hate, unproductivity or even death. The children in Durumi IDP camp look better than most of those from the North East but let’s be clear, it is not in the slightest bit a ‘lesser’ humanitarian crisis. We owe it to ourselves to help out in whatever way can to alleviate the suffering of these people. It
Steve Edward: Changing the Mindsets of Teachers in Nigeria
You need to meet the amazing Steven Edward. Steven Edward is the Founder and Executive Director of Goldmine Educational Resource, an organization which aims to revitalize the learning system of Nigerian schools for an improved educational experience and a better Nigerian. He has been holding seminars across the country to help teachers improve their skill sets so they can effectively transmit quality knowledge to the 21st century student. We had an interview with him a while back and it was enlightening; to say the least. Some of his ideas are so out of the box that you cannot help but wonder if there was ever a box. We are proud of the work Steven Edward is doing and we hope that Nigerian teachers can learn a thing or two from him. Listen to our interview with Steven Edward below and contact him on Facebook for further inquiries on how to benefit from this knowledge.
The Truest Manifestation of Love 2
Black Couple SleepingImage: Daily News Ever story has at least two sides. Every action has at least two reactions. The first was here. This is the second. The moment Otobrise walked into the house, Tracy Wayemi knew something was wrong. He was mechanical and her husband was never that. They had been married for two years and had dated for a year before tying the knot and starting their forever. Because he was such an open book with her, Tracy knew what almost every expression, nuance or tic meant. At this moment however, she couldn’t place what brought on his mask. She watched him over dinner, her mind’s eye taking note of every action as he pretended to concentrate on his food. ‘Are you okay?’ Otobrise looked up and smiled. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and he was quick to drop them back to his plate. ‘Just a weird day at the office. I will be fine.’ Tracy looked at him. She could bet her life that his work had nothing to do with his demeanor. There was something almost…guilty about his entire look. She could press and find out but she wasn’t going to that. Instead, she got up, cleared the table and took off her clothes. She watched her husband watch her as she tentatively got on the table and laid down spread eagled. ‘You need some cheering up. So… dessert is served.’ *** Tracy knew she was losing her husband. Oh! He was still the caring, awesome husband he has always been but something was way off. She couldn’t help but remember when it all began. Was it three weeks already? Three weeks since she sat in the crook of her husband’s arm and heard his heart rhythm tell her he was distracted and pensive? She had taken his hand in hers and rubbed it, gentle asking if he was okay. ‘Just a hectic day at the office. We started training the new anchors for ‘The Deal’ and it was a bit grueling. There are five girls – five green girls – who have to be whipped to global standard before their debut in a month. I love working with professionals who already know what to do but you know Shade now; always insisting on making people stars.’ She had smiled and kissed him, trying to draw the tiredness from his body into hers. She broke the kiss and looked at him. ‘Well, if she isn’t that way, you wouldn’t be the ace producer you are now. Would you?’ He had smiled and looked away and that was the moment she knew there was a problem beyond what he was saying. She got her confirmation last night though. When she got naked and laid on the table, there had been that slight hesitation that had never happened before. It was almost like…like he didn’t want to… but the moment passed. He made love to her; slowly, gently and satisfactorily. As she moaned from ecstasy when they climaxed, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was the one Otobrise just had sex with And for the first time in their life together, Otobrise slept with his back to her. *** Tracy stared at Mairo and Bose. She saw their expressions and watched their lips move but she just wasn’t getting what they were saying. ‘….beat the crap out of her…’ ‘…mess up her face so she is never on…’ ‘….never to date a married man in her miserable…’ Yes. That was it. Her husband was having an affair with Tolani Davidson. He hid it well but Tracy found out anyway. Tolani had become one of the more popular faces on TV and was now everyone’s favorite ‘IT’ girl. ‘The Deal’ was doing so well and raking in so much money that Otobrise had been bumped to Program Director at the station. What she thought was him spending more time at work turned out to be him spending more time with Tolani. Tracy was shocked that the affair hadn’t become public yet. They were two high profile people so how were they keeping it secret? ‘Tra…cy! Snap out of it and let’s do something!’ Tracy smiled…or the distortion that passed for that. Typical Mairo; her ride-or-die bestie wanted violence. ‘I am with Mairo on this Trace. We could leak the news and have her fans vilify her but that would serve to hurt you in the long run. So how about we get some hoodlums to rough her up a bit…’ ‘And rape some sense into her…’ ‘Mario!’ Tracy and Bose shouted. ‘What?! I don’t tolerate rape but she deserves it! How is she comfortable having sex with a married man?! And remember how she was nice to you at their premiere party?!’ Mario calmed down a bit. ‘You think it has been going on since then?’ Tracy’s lips quivered. She didn’t think; she knew Otobrise and Tolani had been dating for a little over eight months. That thought was finally her undoing. She crumpled into a heap of palpable sorrow and let the tears finally fall. Mairo and Bose rushed to her and held her. They enveloped her in their warmth and they cried together. Mairo kept saying she would make Tolani pay but even she had lost her gusto. When they were cried out, Tracy cleaned her face on the edge of Otobrise’s shirt she was wearing and breathed out. ‘I am finally pregnant girls.’ And they started crying again. *** Tracy swore her friends to secrecy. It was two weeks to Valentine and she would make her announcement then. And no; she wasn’t leaving her husband. Nor was she confronting him about his affair. How could she when she had broken their cardinal trust rule; the ‘no snooping’ rule? And snoop she did. The last eight months had been hell. Otobrise was still the most loving husband but it was routine; robotic even. He was there but not there at the same time. Unlike most cheating men however, he didn’t take long trips
The Woman He Lost
Picture Culled From: MARSHABLE’s ‘Black Armor’Written By: David Yi When Ebo Kofi met Iminathi Thato, he and Farhanah Ekow were checking themselves out. For a minute there, he thought he was in love with Farhanah but all that flew out of the window when Iminathi spoke to him. He and Farhanah worked at the premiere advertising agency in Kumasi, an agency where he was a bit of a celebrity. Iminathi did some work for the agency and during one of her presentations, they met. He was impressed with the quality of her creativity. He wished she did more work with the company so he could see her often, but wishes weren’t horses. Whenever she was around though, he watched her from afar as she did her job. She kept to herself a lot, making her irresistible to men and women alike. There were many days Ebo wished he and Iminathi were friends but he kept his distance too, maintaining his faux mysterious aura so people thought there was more to him than he portrayed. And then she sent him a message. She was sick and wondered if he would do a major presentation for her. The client was the biggest telecommunications company in Ghana and the account was going to be big for their firm. He agreed to do the presentation and asked her to send her work. When the time came, he delivered a flawless performance and got the account. He made sure to tell the company that he was making the presentation for Iminathi, who was unavoidably absent. The commission was written in her name. When he told Iminathi everything that had happened, she was so grateful. She shared the commission equally with him and that day, they became friends. They started texting each other and somehow, he knew he was falling in love with her. She on the other hand, seemed to just be having fun. It was obvious that she was attracted to him but he wasn’t sure if her emotions were invested in their attraction dance. Farhanah on the other hand, was transferred to the Nigerian bureau and Ebo was glad she was out of the way. He could now focus on getting the girl of his dreams. From texting, they started sexting and he knew that they would invariable be together. While he couldn’t wait to be with her physically, he also wanted to connect with her emotionally. But he was scared; she was a fully functional girl with big dreams. She had even bigger dreams than he had ever had. She wanted to own the world; or a huge slice of it. That was a bigger motivation for her than any other thing OR person. He wondered if he would be in competition with her career and if that would be okay with him. He could see that she was clearly different from Farhanah, who was content with him as her prize. He however believed that if he could get her, he could change her. And so, he put on the charm. Soon enough, he was in Iminathi’s head. He knew this because whenever she saw him, she burst out the biggest smile. He could be in a group of people and she would walk up to him, say hi, and walk away. Soon enough, he was the envy of the guys in the office. Everyone wondered how he got THE Iminathi to like him. And finally, Iminathi invited him to her home. They had quality dinner and even better conversation and soon enough, they were wrapped around each other. Ebo knew that it was a glorious night for him and he hoped it was equally so for Iminathi. When he got up to leave, she smiled and him…and shattered his world. ‘Now that this attraction has been sated, we can get on with our work. No more distractions for me.’ Ebo was shocked; Iminathi didn’t want a relationship with him. It had just been a one-night-stand for her. This was usually what men did but for the first time in his life, a woman had done it…and to him! He was beyond shocked. But he hid his disappointment and said, ‘You are my girlfriend now and I am going to make you the happiest woman in the world.’ Iminathi laughed and said, ‘Darling, I am happy already. My happiness is not dependent on you, or anyone for that matter. No beef, but I am good. And no, I am not your girlfriend.’ He laughed – painfully – as she saw him out of her house. As he walked to his car, he promised he was going to make her fall in love with him; if it was the last thing he did. Ebo layered the charm and pursued Iminathi like his life depended on it. He was suave, charming, and peppered his speech and actions with enough romance to make Mills & Boons look like child’s play. And soon enough, Iminathi fell in love with him. It was the start of a beautiful love story. Or was it? Ebo noticed that Iminathi didn’t become less interested in her career. If anything, she was more dogged about what she wanted to achieve with her life. He knew she loved him but he also knew that if she was to choose, she would choose her career over him. He wanted to be her all, to be the reason she was happy and somehow, he felt that if he offered her marriage, that would happen. In less than six months, he started dropping hints about wanting to spend the rest of his life with her. One night after an intense love making session, he cuddled her and said, ‘I love you so much. I am happiest with you around and I think I could do this forever. What do you think?’ Iminathi squirmed and broke out of the cuddle. ‘You know there is no ‘forever’ for us, right?’ Ebo sat up. ‘Why would you say that?’ ‘Well, I am not
Here Comes the Bride 4
Picture from: THE FEMINIST WIRE Bimbo Omotosho woke up wanting to pee. She went into her bathroom and when she returned, sat on her bed and stared at the night light. She wasn’t sure she could fall right back to sleep. ‘Maybe a glass of milk would help’, she said too herself. She looked at her bedside clock and saw that it was 2am. Her mother always snapped about having late night snacks and Bimbo really didn’t listen. When she was hungry, she ate. She had a stash under her bed which helped her cravings. Bimbo bent down to pull her goodie bag and was shocked to see it empty. There was a note from her mother saying, ‘I was born way before you and I know all the tricks you can possibly pull young lady. No more unplanned snacks!’ Bimbo was mad! Why did she always do that?! Well then, she had to find another way. Bimbo knew her mother slept like she was in a coma but like most people in a coma, you never knew what would make her start. So Bimbo opened her door as gently as she could and, thanking God for the plush carpets that lined most of the house, tip-toed past her parents’ room and downstairs. She prayed her father didn’t wake up but knew that even if he did, he would most likely help her get her milk and share a cookie. When she got to the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of milk – the real stuff and not the 2% milk her mother always insisted she drank – and took out one cookie from the jar. Her best bet was to eat it in her room. As she closed the fridge door, she could have sworn she heard a moan. She shrugged it off as a figment of her imagination and set out to her room. As she passed her maid’s room, she heard the moan again. This time, coming in slightly louder. She was scared but curious and in the end, curiosity won. She kept her milk on the floor and oh so gently turned the doorknob. With his back to her, her father was naked and kissing their maid; who was also naked. They were running their hands all over each other but what was more disturbing was the fact that a similar scene was playing on the television. Bimbo stood there, cookie in hand, transfixed as she watched her father, their maid and the actors they were copying. She may be eight years old but she knew what she was seeing was wrong. However, she couldn’t avert her eyes. She was so transfixed that she didn’t hear her mother walk up to her, gently pull the door close and point upstairs. Bimbo didn’t need to be told to go to her room. She ran to her room, locked her door and laid on the bed. The screams began, followed by the crash of glassware. Bimbo buried her head under her pillow and soon enough, fell asleep; cookie in hand. The glass of milk remained where Bimbo dropped it, unbothered by the destruction that went on for hours. *** The divorce was quick. Turns out Bimbo’s mum took a couple of pictures that could ruin her husband, the very respectable Pastor Biodun Omotosho, senior pastor, Live Church, with a congregation of over ten thousand people. After her crazy tantrum, she piped down and made her demands. She would keep Bimbo, the house, two cars and a steady allowance to continue living as she was used to. In return, she would not publish the pictures to his loving flock. She would also pretend she was the one who got tired of the rigors of marriage to a ‘man of God’ so his impeccable reputation remained untainted. He jumped at the offer, promising to do all she asked. In less than a week, a joint statement was released and as expected, Bimbo’s mum was labelled the bitch! She wasn’t worried because in truth, she married Biodun for his money and wasn’t into all that religious stuff anyway. To ride out the drama, she took her daughter and went off to Canada. In all these, no one spoke to Bimbo about what she had seen that night. Even when she tried to bring it up, her mother shut her down by saying, ‘You did not see anything! And next time, when I say don’t do something, you better obey me! In fact, this is all your fault! If you had obeyed me, I wouldn’t have known…just forget it. You did not see anything.’ But how could bimbo forget it when every night she went to bed, she kept seeing the actors doing things to each other? *** As Bimbo grew, she realized what she had seen her father do that day was have sex and what was playing on the television in her maid’s room was porn. As she became more internet savvy, she spent time finding and watching porn, and erasing her internet activities. It wasn’t as if anyone cared. Her mother was too busy dating rich men to be bothered about what her daughter was doing online. Bimbo started craving sex like she wanted food. As soon as she became a teenager, she wanted to practice what she had been watching for four years so she could find out if all the feelings she got from watching porn could be felt in reality. She began to make moves with the boys in school but they were all so scared. They kept acting like she would eat them. Bimbo knew that if she was to satisfy her urges, she had to aim higher; older. It was no wonder that the moment she saw Ricardo Esteban, her mum’s newest boyfriend, she knew he was the one she wanted. Ricardo was a tall, ripped bodied, dark-olive skinned hunk of a Columbian millionaire and it wasn’t surprising that her mother was dating him. She told
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Picture: Tarringo T. Vaughan Don’t know where the story started from? Catch up here!Adon Kato was beginning to get really angry. For the past two weeks, she had been caring for her boyfriend – Jason Ogbeche – and she didn’t need any heightened sense of perception to know that Jason wasn’t connecting with her. He always seemed to be brooding and if Adon didn’t know better, she could have sworn he was angry at her. He had to have two other surgeries when his kidney became infected and they almost lost him. The injured kidney was finally removed and he was doing better now. Adon stayed at his side all through. Dr. Anwar had to send her home many times to shower and eat. She took her bath in the hospital and ate hospital meals to get the doctors off her back. As soon as she was done with basic necessities, she would rush back to Jason’s bed side. Jason said very little to her. He only spoke when he needed his pain medications or was hungry. Adon would have understood if he was that way with everyone. He spoke to his parents about how he was really feeling and even laughed with them. What was more was that whenever Doctor Amara came into the room, he lit up and became a chatterbox. Adon watched the development and gradually grew depressed. She wanted to start a conversation (again) when Drs. Anwar and Amara, Jason’s parents and two nurses came in. Adon felt her chest constrict and deep down, she knew it was more from jealousy than worry at what the doctors had to say. Doctor Anwar started speaking. ‘I wanted to talk to all of you at the same time. Jason, how are you feeling?’ ‘I feel horrible.’ Jason said as he laughed. ‘Well…I am glad you can laugh about this. You are doing better and if not for that relapse last week, you could be on your way home this week. Your ribs are healing nicely and for now, your body is adjusting to having one kidney. Most of the other injuries have healed well and there is no more internal bleeding. On paper, you look good. But the human body acts as it wants for each individual. If you continue at this rate, we could have you home by the end of next week, with scheduled weekly checkup until the pins in your ribs are removed. That been said, I want to suggest that you see a psychologist and just talk. When you have near-fatal accidents like this, you could have post-traumatic stress disorder, leading to a warped perception of reality. One of it may be a heightened fear of driving and another may be attachment to certain individuals…’ Adon was piqued. Did the doctor notice what was happening? Was he trying to tell her something? Her eyes darted to Dr. Amara and to Jason and she saw them share a look. ‘….so, he should be home next week if everything goes well. I have drawn up a regimen to help you help him and you need to follow it to the latter. You can rotate between three of you so it is not…’ Jason’s mum interrupted. ‘I accepted to allow her stay here because you demanded that. But she will no longer be required when he comes home. We can take care of him ourselves. She is not welcome in our home.’ She punctuated her bile with the most vicious look. Adon looked at Mrs. Ogbeche and turned to look at Jason. He didn’t say anything. Adon open her mouth, but the words didn’t come. Jason looked away. ‘Jason, do you want me to stay or is your mother speaking for you?’ Adon asked huskily. The tears were threatening to fall. Jason said nothing. Dr. Amara started talking. ‘I don’t think this is the time or place…’ ‘Shut up! Just shut up!’ Adon exploded. ‘Don’t speak to her that way!’ Jason shouted right back at Adon. The silence in the room was deafening. Adon’s embarrassment was palpable. Adon looked at Jason, got up from the chair, gathered her things and walked out of the room. ‘Adon…wait..’ ‘Let her go Jason. She is bad news.’ Mrs. Ogbeche said. *** Adon sat in her car, crying her soul out. All the frustration that came from her inability to contact Jason that sorry day he left, to being in the hospital and the immense betrayal completely broke her spirit. She wanted to die; such was the pain in her chest. As the tears gradually piped down, it finally dawned on her that a figure had been by her window almost as long as she had been crying. She looked up from the blue scrubs to the gentle face of Dr. Anwar. She wound down her windshield. ‘I…I..am..s..ss…o..sorry Dr. A.nwa…r. I di…dn’t see you there.’ Adon said as she tried to control the spasms running through her body. ‘Don’t ever be sorry for being in pain. Now, scoot over. I will drive you to your hotel.’ ‘I..I..do..n’t…have…o..one.’ It dawned on Dr. Anwar just how much she had sacrificed for the man she loved. ‘I will take you to one. You are in no state to drive now. Don’t worry, it will be fine.’ *** ‘So you mean there is nothing I can do?’ Adon asked resignedly. ‘No, there isn’t. Sometimes, these things last for a week and sometimes, it lasts forever. The only thing that can change it is if his brain rewires itself, for lack of a better word. We cannot force the brain to do that.’ Adon started pacing as she contemplated what she had just heard. The doctor had noticed the fixation of Jason on Dr. Amara as he questioned him about his accident. He told her earlier on. ‘The accident was near fatal. If the ambulance had been as much as an hour (or even 30 minutes) late, he would have died. She was the last face he saw before he passed out and in his brain, she
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PHOTO: SACRED JOURNEYS AND SPIRITUALCOMMUNITY The story doesn’t begin here. It springs from HERE.Jason Ogbeche kept flitting in and out of consciousness. He didn’t know where the sounds were coming from. He barely knew where he was. Someone seemed to be tugging at him, trying to pull him out. But from where? He tried to open his eyes and when that finally happened, it came with a lot of pain. His mind registered that he was surrounded by people. The tingling feeling all over his body beckoned him to ignore the sea of faces and concentrate on his body. He looked down. There was blood everywhere! He tried to move and something held him back. ‘Do not pull him like that! You will kill him.’ It seemed to come from a far place and each word punctuated the pain he was feeling. He looked down again and saw that the blood flow had one major source. Jason blanched when he saw the source. The pain overwhelmed him again and he lost consciousness. *** Doctor Amara Obiekwe forced her way through the crowd, shouting ‘Do not pull him like that! You will kill him.’ until she got to the front of the very ghastly car accident scene before her. When would Nigerians stop pulling people out of accident scenes?! When would people realize that more damage is done when accident victims are not properly removed from the scenes?! She pushed some more and stopped in her tracks just as she got to the car. Someone had wrenched the door open and the sight before her was daunting. The young man in the front seat was impaled to his seat by an iron rod that obviously came off the trailer lying a few feet away. From the look of it, the iron entered into his left upper side and exited somewhere into the seat. Thankfully, the man had been wearing his seat belt. If he hadn’t, she was sure he would have flown out of the window and crashed head-first into the underbelly of the huge trailer; which was what happened to the driver. Dr. Amara dialed the Jos University Teaching Hospital as she assessed what could be done. She could stem the blood flow but she was worried about the proximity of many vital organs to the entry-point of the injury. This man needed immediate surgery if he was to live. But before then, she carried out the ABCDEs of First Aid; she checked his airways, breathing, circulation, and his level of consciousness, the penetrating iron and the amount of blood loss. She was about to start the secondary survey when she heard the sound of an approaching ambulance. The forces of the universe seemed to be with this man. She started to get up when he woke up and grabbed her hand. ‘Don’t leave me!’ he muttered, sputtering some blood and losing consciousness again. Though unconscious, his hand remained tightly gripped in hers as they raced to the hospital. *** Adon Kato was restless. She had been calling her boyfriend for the last two hours and he wasn’t picking. He left her about four hours ago as he journeyed to Abuja. It took every ounce of her strength to watch the bus leave. When she could no longer see the bus, she grudgingly went to her car and drove home. She had just opened her front door when her phone buzzed. She just knew it was Jason. She smiled even before she read it. ‘Missing you already baby.’ ‘Come back to me! I am so lonely with you gone!’ She responded. ‘Stop it woman! I swear, I will come down from this bus and come back to you!’ Adon laughed. She started typing and then stopped; a voice note would be better. ‘I am so glad we worked things out. I almost thought your presence here would mean the end of our relationship but somehow, we found ourselves. I love you so much baby! I haven’t been this happy in a long time.’ She watched her phone, anticipating his response. ‘Aww baby! Why are you torturing me? You know I cannot send a voice note and you keep enveloping me with your honey-smooth voice! I will get you back for this. When you come to Abuja, I will make sure I spoil you so bad, you will have no other choice than to quit your job and leave Gombe. And you know I keep my word!’ Adon laughed again. She was blushing! What did this guy do to her? ‘You will not believe that I am smiling like a sappy teenager. And blushing too! What did you do to me, Jason Ogbeche?!’ He sent in a laughing emoji. ‘Laugh all you want oh! Shebi you now know I love you so you are forming champion right?! Lol. I know what I will do to you. And hey! Speaking of work, I need to prepare. Talk to you as soon as I settle in. I love you, Jason.’ ‘I love you too baby.’ They had been chatting when he suddenly went offline. Adon was a bit worried. Something was wrong; she felt it. But she shrugged it off. She tried to concentrate on work to get that nagging feeling away. ‘Adon, you are too much of a worrier.’ she told herself just as… …her phone rang. She jumped to pick it and in her excitement, dropped it. She quickly it picked up and saw that the call had ended. Checking her call log, she saw it was Jason. The phone began to ring again. ‘Jason what the hell is wrong with y…’ ‘Good day ma’am. I am calling from the Jos University Teaching Hospital. The owner of this phone was involved in an accident and is currently is surgery. You were the last person he interacted with and we would like to know if you can make it to the hospital.’ Adon barely heard anything beyond Jason being in an accident. She wanted to faint, to go numb,
