Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Welcome to my literary world!: Madly in Love
Welcome to my literary world!: Madly in Love: “Madly in Love” She was on the phone again; “…Mama…it’s not my fault if no baby after 6years…doctor said there’s nothing wrong with us…...
Welcome to my literary world!: The Ultimate Prize
Welcome to my literary world!: The Ultimate Prize: May 4th 2007, Ajah. I had woken up that Saturday morning with an unforgiving headache; although I slept late and woke up early...
Thursday, October 11, 2012
How did it get to this?
I am sitting in my living room reviewing with horror stories from Nigeria and asking myself how did it get to this?
when has joblessness and poverty changed us so badly that we are gradually becoming carnibals? I'm reffering to senseless killings going on in my beloved country! the 40 students in Adamawa, the harmless 4 student of UNIPORT, the gruesome rape vidoed and posted on youtube of a girl from Abia...to mention but a few.
What went wrong with peoples reasoning and conscience enough to turn them into monsters?
When did we go back to the early twenties when it was okay to burn witches at stake or Roman arena where it is entertaining to throw people to the lions and watch them devoured?
For a country with so many christian worshippers and moslem faithfuls, THE LEVEL OF EVIL PREVAILING IN THE LAND IS ALARMING!!!
Whilst the leaders are too busy embezzling funds and police too corrupt to see injustice, the hapless citizens are turning on themselves in most inhuman manner.
What is going on?
Enough already...enough!!!
Enough of corruption, enough of all barbaric acts, enough of robbery, kidnapping, rape, debauchery, embezzlement, larcenry, murder, injustices...ENOUGH!
Join me and together lets all say in one voice: ENOUGH!!!
when has joblessness and poverty changed us so badly that we are gradually becoming carnibals? I'm reffering to senseless killings going on in my beloved country! the 40 students in Adamawa, the harmless 4 student of UNIPORT, the gruesome rape vidoed and posted on youtube of a girl from Abia...to mention but a few.
What went wrong with peoples reasoning and conscience enough to turn them into monsters?
When did we go back to the early twenties when it was okay to burn witches at stake or Roman arena where it is entertaining to throw people to the lions and watch them devoured?
For a country with so many christian worshippers and moslem faithfuls, THE LEVEL OF EVIL PREVAILING IN THE LAND IS ALARMING!!!
Whilst the leaders are too busy embezzling funds and police too corrupt to see injustice, the hapless citizens are turning on themselves in most inhuman manner.
What is going on?
Enough already...enough!!!
Enough of corruption, enough of all barbaric acts, enough of robbery, kidnapping, rape, debauchery, embezzlement, larcenry, murder, injustices...ENOUGH!
Join me and together lets all say in one voice: ENOUGH!!!
Where is Nigeria?
I read with anger and shame the barbaric and ruthless way some demons from the pits of hell kill four harmless students of UNIPORT in Nigeria and I'm still shaking with rage that nothing was done by either the police or government to intervene!
I'm wondering where is the Nigeria i thought i knew? where theres love and respect for human dignity, where there is fear of God, where everyone is their brothers keeper.
I dont know the Nigeria where killing in the most gruesome way is justified, where people take the law into their hands in the name of Justice.
These demons from Aluu village are not citizen of the Nigeria I used to know.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
The Ultimate Prize
May 4th 2007, Ajah.
I had woken up that Saturday morning with an unforgiving headache; although I slept late and woke up early but everything I needed for the trip to Abuja was ready.
Like an eighty-year old woman with arthritis, I groaned and crawled out of the bed.
More groans and stretching got me into the bathroom.
An hour later, I was in the process of making coffee when my four sisters came in unceremoniously and filled my little living room, they put on the TV and were watching some soap, ordering me around for breakfast as well.
My phone rang immediately after I heaped three spoons of coffee beans in the maker and switched it on.
We usually gather most weekends to drink coffee/slim tea, gossip about men and our spouses and watch our favorite soap on TV.
My first guess were my sons, David and Abraham, they where on their way back to school and probably were calling to tell me where they were. I promised them I would stop by their school after the ceremony to show them the pictures.
I had bought the eldest, David, a new phone so I could reach them to know how the journey was progressing.
When I checked, it was a strange number.
I answered anyway, frowning because my coffee was ready and I longed for a steamy sip; my sisters were already gossiping; I could barely hear what Hellene was telling Janet in whispers about her new Admin Manager. She had informed us earlier on that he studied abroad and had an ego the size of Taraba state! I suspected she had a huge crush on him and was dying to know more.
“Hello”
“Hello, is this Elizabeth?”
“Speaking, who’s this?” as I attempted a sip, I was thinking who could it be?
“This is Dr. Daniel, don’t panic, madam, your son wants to talk to you …”
“Don’t panic?” is this 419? Or was he one of the passengers in the car? Why was David not using his own phone to call me?
My eyes hurt because I had one of those headaches that came from waking up too early or not sleeping right on pillow; in my own case, it was caused by anxiety; both trips were on my mind.
I was more nervous because it was the first time they were going back alone without an adult. No one was on hand to take them including myself as I was flying the next day for my call to Nigerian Bar ceremony; passing the bar exams was the ultimate prize for all lawyers; after six years of rigorous sleepless studies coupled with mega fretting and nail-biting exam, I won.
“Hello, David, where are you guys?” they should be approaching Ore town by now. It was few minutes after nine am and they left the house around six am.
“Mum, our car had an accident…”
An Accident! My whole world froze in time. I could hear my heartbeat flip-flopped.
“Accident?” I repeated stupidly. Seriously or are they just pulling my legs? “Where is your brother Abraham?” it was more of a croak.
My God! And I was worrying about how bitter the coffee was, whether to add sugar or not because of my spreading waistline, wandering hips and things I must do before my trip. Wow!
And it’s not the even first of April!! My sons had an accident…for real…O God!
“I’m fine mom; Abraham is…em... fine…” David said.
Why the pause?
“Let me talk to him!” after a gap, the line went off.
By now, the conversation had stopped; all my sisters and her kids gathered around me wanting to know what happened. Nobody watched episode nine we had waited a whole week for.
“David and Abraham were involved in an accident.” I actually sounded like a rock star because there was a squeaky huskiness made out of sheer fear in my voice.
“Are they ok? Are they in hospital? We need to go get them! Where are they?” everyone was talking at once.
I shook my head, redialing the number, after three agonizing trials, it rang again.
“Where are you David?”
“Madam don’t panic, they’re here in the hospital at Kajola…” I need to put on my robe and go right away.
Panic? I was petrified. Where in the world was Kaj-ola??? I was already going out of the door barefoot before someone gave me slippers to wear.
This was one of those few times I wish I could fly.
I needed to be with them right away.
“They’re fine…”
“Let me talk to Abraham!” I was already shaking; if they didn’t put my youngest son on the line then I’ll know something terrible happened to him!
“Ok hold on…” I waited for eternity (actually for three seconds) then I heard faint voices in the background.
By now, I had my phone on speaker so my siblings crowding me could hear.
After a long pause, very faintly, I heard a voice said:
“Hello mom” it was Abrahams’ voice.
A lone tear slid down my cheek; it was the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard.
Right there, I realized I had already won the ultimate prize to aspire for and it wasn’t passing the bar exams…it is the gift of life; the one every parent deserves-not to lose a child…it beats all other prizes…
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Madly in Love
“Madly in Love”
She was on the phone again; “…Mama…it’s not my fault if no baby after 6years…doctor said there’s nothing wrong with us…I’m not God....”
Abigail sighed. Though it was only 11 am, she was already exhausted.
Talking with her mother-in-law always did that to her.
The phone rings again; she checks the time before answering; it was few minutes after 3pm; could be her husband, Raymond.
Her heart leaped at the thoughts of him.
He’d told her not to call him because he had a meeting in the office.
He promised to call whenever he was less busy.
Smiling, she said: “Sweetheart…” then her face fell; it was Benita, her best friend.
“Hello…hello… She listened and frowns.
“My husband?” She toyed with her hair. “When? No, it can’t be… Raymond is at work…maybe it’s his driver…” Suddenly, her scalp itched; she scratched the spot. “...no, it’s not my husband… Ok, bye…”
Then she sat staring unseeingly at the newscaster on CNN; after a while, she leaned forward and picked the phone; fiddled with it, scrolled down to her husbands’ number, went down further then came back to it and dialled the number with one hand on her chest.
She realized she was shaking.
The burr, burr sound from the other end lasted for like a minute and a pre-recorded voice said: “The number dialled is switched off…”
He said he would be in a meeting; he probably switched off his phone.
Made sense…No need to panic or jump into conclusions…
She dropped the phone, picked it up again and scrolled down to H, she stopped at ‘Hubbys’PA’, leaned back thinking for some minutes, then pressed the dial button.
She had to breathe rapidly from her mouth because her chest felt congested.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, she was scared of what her husbands’ PA might tell her.
She switched off the phone before it rings.
People have a way of getting under your skin with false insinuations. It’s a mistake; Raymond couldn’t have been with another woman.
Suddenly, the phone started ringing; she jumped. She put the phone to her ear and said: “Hello, Hello…let me talk to my husband…he’s left? When…ok thank you.”
She dialled Raymonds’ number.
“Hi sweetheart, I…who’re you…his wife? I’m his wife! Who’re you? Let me…” the line went off.
She redials the number.
“Hello…hello…”dead again.
My God! Another wife? Is Raymond cheating on me?
I need to talk to my sister…she dials her number.
“Hello, Hello Sis, I’m fine…no... She was crying.
“It’s Raymond…she sniffed. “I just need to talk to someone …” I’ll kill him if it’s true! She thought. I will!
“…I think he’s…” she cut the line because from the corners of her eyes, she saw Rose and some men standing in the room; Rose, her maid, sometimes bring visitors into her room without her consent.
I’m going to warn her, the next time she usher people into the house without asking me first, I’ll fire her!
“Yes, how can I help you? Who do they want to see Rose?” she said.
Silence.
Abigail noticed they seem to be studying her expressions and movements calmly.
She redialled her sisters’ number again...
Without answering her question, Rose, the resident psychiatrist, said:
“… Meet Abigail Oyebode, 31yrs old… psychosis… jilted at the altar by her lawyer boyfriend, Raymond… she stabbed him twenty-three times while asleep and called the police… she was charged for manslaughter... brought to this facility from Federal Neuro Psychiatric Hospital 6 years ago…” she was reading from a file.
Timidly, the eight psychiatric students peered at the young lady sitting on a bed, holding a white plastic cup to her ear shouting:
“Hello, Hello…” she totally ignored them.
This call was more important.
She was on the phone again; “…Mama…it’s not my fault if no baby after 6years…doctor said there’s nothing wrong with us…I’m not God....”
Abigail sighed. Though it was only 11 am, she was already exhausted.
Talking with her mother-in-law always did that to her.
The phone rings again; she checks the time before answering; it was few minutes after 3pm; could be her husband, Raymond.
Her heart leaped at the thoughts of him.
He’d told her not to call him because he had a meeting in the office.
He promised to call whenever he was less busy.
Smiling, she said: “Sweetheart…” then her face fell; it was Benita, her best friend.
“Hello…hello… She listened and frowns.
“My husband?” She toyed with her hair. “When? No, it can’t be… Raymond is at work…maybe it’s his driver…” Suddenly, her scalp itched; she scratched the spot. “...no, it’s not my husband… Ok, bye…”
Then she sat staring unseeingly at the newscaster on CNN; after a while, she leaned forward and picked the phone; fiddled with it, scrolled down to her husbands’ number, went down further then came back to it and dialled the number with one hand on her chest.
She realized she was shaking.
The burr, burr sound from the other end lasted for like a minute and a pre-recorded voice said: “The number dialled is switched off…”
He said he would be in a meeting; he probably switched off his phone.
Made sense…No need to panic or jump into conclusions…
She dropped the phone, picked it up again and scrolled down to H, she stopped at ‘Hubbys’PA’, leaned back thinking for some minutes, then pressed the dial button.
She had to breathe rapidly from her mouth because her chest felt congested.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, she was scared of what her husbands’ PA might tell her.
She switched off the phone before it rings.
People have a way of getting under your skin with false insinuations. It’s a mistake; Raymond couldn’t have been with another woman.
Suddenly, the phone started ringing; she jumped. She put the phone to her ear and said: “Hello, Hello…let me talk to my husband…he’s left? When…ok thank you.”
She dialled Raymonds’ number.
“Hi sweetheart, I…who’re you…his wife? I’m his wife! Who’re you? Let me…” the line went off.
She redials the number.
“Hello…hello…”dead again.
My God! Another wife? Is Raymond cheating on me?
I need to talk to my sister…she dials her number.
“Hello, Hello Sis, I’m fine…no... She was crying.
“It’s Raymond…she sniffed. “I just need to talk to someone …” I’ll kill him if it’s true! She thought. I will!
“…I think he’s…” she cut the line because from the corners of her eyes, she saw Rose and some men standing in the room; Rose, her maid, sometimes bring visitors into her room without her consent.
I’m going to warn her, the next time she usher people into the house without asking me first, I’ll fire her!
“Yes, how can I help you? Who do they want to see Rose?” she said.
Silence.
Abigail noticed they seem to be studying her expressions and movements calmly.
She redialled her sisters’ number again...
Without answering her question, Rose, the resident psychiatrist, said:
“… Meet Abigail Oyebode, 31yrs old… psychosis… jilted at the altar by her lawyer boyfriend, Raymond… she stabbed him twenty-three times while asleep and called the police… she was charged for manslaughter... brought to this facility from Federal Neuro Psychiatric Hospital 6 years ago…” she was reading from a file.
Timidly, the eight psychiatric students peered at the young lady sitting on a bed, holding a white plastic cup to her ear shouting:
“Hello, Hello…” she totally ignored them.
This call was more important.
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