"In Agony, With Child" Episode 2...

Nkechi

 

“Goodness gracious” I said snapping out of the honey sweet memories of my long forgotten childhood which streamed back like a rush of water carried from the ocean to shore by the strong east wind. I was still rubbing my tummy when I snapped back to reality, still looking at my protruded belly when I caught a glimpse of what I was wearing. I realized I was in my ankle length ‘boubou’. I remember putting it on being bored all day as Tony was at work. I tried his phone and he didn’t pick. He sent me a message on bbm 30mins later saying he was in a meeting with some big clients on the multi million Naira deal he was about to land. He had stayed up all night, getting things in place, getting his statistics, his arguments, his speech, his strong points his everything together for the morrow. I wish he wasn’t involved in that deal. I wish the clients would have contacted another company not Tony’s. I wish that Tony was not one of the best Advertising agents around. I know that is a really harsh thing to say, really selfish but which pregnant woman isn’t? All I wanted was my husband to hold me tight and make the pain bearable. To make it all  go away if possible. To make me feel like I wasn’t alone in all this, but wishes were not horses. He had the clients, he ran the best AD agency around and he was staying up all night instead of being with me in bed. I just went to my dressing table and sat. I experimented with colors shades and ranges of make up putting on and removing till I was satisfied. I was the most beautiful expectant mother on the whole planet earth. Tony confirmed it and that’s all that matters so you can as well keep your opinions to yourselves “Asko”. With one last glance at my beautiful puffed and rounded self in my yellow light bulb surrounded mirror, I blew myself a kiss and left for the sitting room upstairs. I looked at the clock it was 9:35pm and Tony was not yet back.  Rubbing my tummy somehow made me thirsty at this moment. I had just finished a glass of juice but I was somehow still thirsty. I slowly got up from the love seat and headed for the kitchen downstairs. I opened the refrigerator and brought out the home made juice Tony had made yesterday. He prided himself of his infamous fruit squash which consisted of pineapples, oranges, grapes, apples and whatever he put inside. All I know is that somehow it ended up tasting good. I placed the jug full of juice on the marbled kitchen table and reached for a glass cup. I slowly poured the juice into the cup without looking, watching TV on the LG refrigerator when I heard a splash on the floor. I had thought that by me not looking I had spilled the juice on the floor but the cup was not yet full and neither had I spilled the juice. I bent a bit to look closely only to have a contraction. That was when I realized
my water had broken…….

To be continued...

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"In Agony, With Child" Episode 1...

NKECHI

I sat uncomfortably on the love seat in the family sitting room which was upstairs at the Opebi four bedroom duplex which I shared with my husband Tony. I flipped through the channels on the TV but couldn’t find anything that impressed me. I could not tell why the evening news which always got me excited as It always gave me something to talk about being a self acclaimed critic of everything, or the fashion network which only made me all the more jealous of the figure of the size zero models strutting they fatless flesh all over the place. Over the last 6months I could not believe how my once model like figure which Shayo had once told me could compete with the models on a Gucci runway at the New York fashion week could turn out to become even worse than Iya  Monsurat, the 120\kg stout lady who runs a buka down the road. If only she could see me right now 9months into my first pregnancy she, would take back what she said. I looked down at my tummy and the smile on my face was one of reminiscence. I could remember how I used to play ‘mummy and daddy’ with Emeka about 22years ago. How I would stuff  my tiny clothes under my tiny top sometimes using my younger brother’s plastic football and use a wrapper to cover and hold it like a pregnant woman like I had seen in the home videos I and my family had watched. I could still remember how my mother would clean the tape and slot it into the VCR. I remember being fascinated with the way it swallowed the cassette with groans like a huge wild cat. “Emeka I think its time ooo. I think its time for you child to come out oo” I would scream holding my waist while Big headed Emeka would run down to help me into his makeshift car made of only a flat wood which lay lifeless on the ground with empty bournvita tins as chairs. He would keep saying “Ozuola Nwunyem. Ndo. Ebezina ozo.” (Its ok my dear wife. Sorry, don’t cry anymore). The car never moved though but to us it did. To us we were on the highway making for the hospital in town. Emeka just knew how to make the engine sound with his mouth “duvvvvwwwweeee, vvvwwweee, vrrrrrrroooooommmm” his hands swerving from left to right as he overtook the cars, commercial motorcyclists popularly called okada, as well as commercial buses. I could still remember my hands wrapped around his waist as he cursed the okada people who got in our way. I felt loved, I felt secure, I felt I was married. Emeka was my hero. I could still remember how he looked over his shoulders with a smile telling me “its going to be a boy”…..

 

To be continued...

 

By Nado.

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"BOKO POLICE..."

The blue of the sky signifies dawn as the smell of Lagos hits me. Even as the A/c is turned on in the car, one could tell the intensity that the smoke from the trailer’s exhaust pipe is pushing against the air vent. I’m caught up in typical Lagos traffic as early as 5:55am on the Lagos Abeokuta expressway, my eyes feed themselves on the happenings around but is caught at the sight of the red eye of the cigarette being held between the darkened fingers of an officer of the Nigerian police force as he shines his eyes for the day with his AK-47 still asleep on his lap. One would wonder if he slept at all as the bags around his eyes are like the sac used to bag garri at Oshodi market. Next I know the whole serene normal workman atmosphere turns movie like and he throws the cigarette away at the alert of his fellow officer on a car that beat traffic regulations and followed the one way route. They swing into action like Jack Bauer and Tony Almeida in 24 and both on foot begin pursuit of a car (how dumb. Do they think they can fly…too much R.Kelly) the car makes a turn and quickly gets into a petrol station to make a u-turn and next I know Jack Bauer and Tony Almeida open fire on the innocent driver and his car. Sporadic shots are fired by this two numbskulls. One can’t really tell what is going on but they are both missing their shots. How daft can they be to open fire on this fellow who has only beat traffic by following one way, not only that , but these nitwits are shooting senselessly in a petrol station. To make matters worse in their bid to shoot the tires, they place their guns on the floor and start shooting. My goodness, what would happen if they hit a civilian’s foot, or shoot a kid who is going to school happily holding the hands of his mother. And then they blame Boko Haram for terrorism………….this is Boko Police at your service…

AFTER VALENTINE SPECIAL: “ I LOVED YOU FOR YESTERDAY…”

I really can’t believe this is me sitting here on this fly infested bar, gulping down, bottle by bottle, this crate of Gulder. I can’t believe my eyes. I knew I could drink quite a number, but staring at this crate as it slowly depopulates and empty bottles become the settlers of the top of the ‘Guiness’ branded table right in front of me kind of scares me, but I keep going on and on. At this particular time the smell of smoke from the Mallam’s local grill, roasting away the huge chunk of cow flesh and selling as ‘Suya’. I tap my feet in consolation or sheer disillusion as I actually don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I thought I was a bad guy, the guy who had any girl he wanted, a self-acclaimed player, but the events of the earlier hours of today gave me away as a blatant fool. Well, I guess they were right when they said “what goes around comes around”. Until I met Cynthia I never believed in that crap called ‘LOVE’. It was frigging overrated. But getting to meet her at a friend’s birthday bash one month ago was what I would have called hitting jackpot. I walked up to her as she sat with her friends by the pool side and introduced myself. After one hour of practice in the rest room at Jide’s house. Her response was as confusing as a riddle, her words as inconsistent as the colors of a rainbow, but I just couldn’t let go. I was determined to get her, to own her, to make her feel the same way about me as I felt about her. I was so stuck up on her not noticing how deep the hole in my pocket was getting. The times I saw her smile where the times I got her stuff or took her out. I did everything just to make her happy, but she was obviously interested in the gifts not me but something happened yesterday ‘Feb 14’, she was the first to call me that morning and wish me happy Valentine’s Day. I had fallen so deep in love with her that I couldn’t even think straight. She was planning our outing and all I did was agree, so happy to see her excited about something. I almost cleared my account as she was buying things like she was gathering for the rainy days ahead. We had so much fun I was starting to think she was in love with me as I was with her, only to call her number times without number this morning without her picking up the phone. Until I got this text from her saying “I hope you would find love somewhere, someday. I loved you for yesterday. Mission accomplished. Have a nice life. Ciao.” Kai. “Na me be this?”

VALENTINE SPECIAL: 'LETTER TO MY VALENTINE...'

DEAR VALENTINE,

                                I’m sitting right here in front of my desk staring the blue of the candle flame while my heart races, miles and miles unending. The smell of candle wax that has filled my desk environment is doing little in bringing me back to me. The plain white sheet of paper right in front of me seems to be staring mockingly at me as I try to put words together to describe this enigmatic feeling that has curled up, wrapped up and dragged me through this muddle of feelings that my heart finds calm and comfort in, but I find nothing. It’s like the expression of this feeling is written in some ancient Greek language of which I don’t understand, signs and symbols which are alien to me. It’s so close but I can’t see it, it’s on the tip of the tongue of my thoughts but it can’t be spat out. The slow rhythm of the wind causing the curtain of my window to dance can be heard and like the sound of the minstrel of Elisha I am inspired. The whiff of your cologne coming from the letters you wrote to me which lay on my desk, rapes the dark of my nostrils. Then like a movie that has just been played I sit back and a picture of you comes to me in 3D/HD. It’s the most beautiful movie anyone has ever seen and you are the star, my star. The huge mane of your silky, wavy hair blows here and there covering your face. Your slender fingers, beautifully tucks it behind your ears to reveal the features of your pretty face. Those medium size lashes, curved as though saying “hello” to the sky. Your shiny white almond shaped glassy eyes reflecting images of me as I stare into them, lost in them, like a little child in a big city. Your nose, open, breathing steadily the scent of the flowers I got for you. Your reddened lips, turgid, with a little scar on the left side which I call your star’s scar as there can’t be a star without a scar, can there? I wouldn’t be wrong to say the coca cola bottle is a model of you, the original model. Those thieves saw you and made the bottle to be just as you are. I’m short for words as that strange feeling comes all over me again. You are the only one who can do that to me. I always want to be around you, talk to you, be with you look in your eyes and see your heart through that glass. *Pause*. I always want to hear that sweet voice of yours tell me “I love you babe”. This thought is the sweetest and you are my sweet. I call you my ‘SUGAR’ and I’m blessed to have you in my life. I wrote this for you:

Hundreds of leaves, but one Tree,

Thousands of droplets, but one Sea,

Millions of people but one City,

Billions of sand grains, but one Land.

Lots of eagles are called a ‘Convocation’,

A pride of lions, together in one Location,

All the commons are in one Group,

And of all the girls in the world, I’ve got You.

When it rains and when the sun Shines,

When its day and when the moon Smiles,

Till I’m old even now in my Youth,

Always and forever, I would keep on LOVING YOU.

Happy Valentine’s Day. I LOVE YOU, SUGAR.

                                                                                        NADO.

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“A REASON TO BELIEVE AGAIN” (the AFCON story)…

BEFORE THE COMPETITION.

Prior to the AFCON 2013 Showdown, the “Super Eagles” of Nigeria were in no way the favorites (per say) to win Africa’s most coveted price in terms of National team football. Not with the presence of the Ghanaian team, Tunisia, Ivory Coast and (now) ex-defending champions Zambia. We shouldn’t forget that the Nigerian team failed to qualify for the last edition of the cup which made the Nigerian people lose hope, and believe in the team. After three bronze medals, a sink in the FIFA international rankings and an absence from the AFCON 2012, they seemed to be on their own. They even had a pet name “Super Chickens”. Things got worse as Stephen Keshi took the reins as the Coach after an unsuccessful reign of Samson Siasia. He was hugely criticized for dropping the likes of Taye Taiwo, Obafemi Martins as well as Osaze Odemwinge but he gamble paid off in the end. Starting preparations a little over two months before the completion didn’t help matters. Nigerians watched in mockery, waiting for magic to get them the cup as they felt the preparation wasn’t enough. Yes that magic happened.

DURING THE COMPETITION.

The champions had a slow start in the completion drawing their first two games. The hate grew, support dropped, curses were rained, but they were not moved. Not even when they were dubbed “Draw Soup” they went on to prove that they are the bone, not the soup. The first win didn’t bring back so much support as it was tagged as a lucky win since they won with two penalties but that was just the beginning. They came out strong, firm and auspicious from the group stage but the Nigerian people wouldn’t budge. They shoved their support in their pockets folded their arms and hardly looked in their direction. Then came the game against the Ivory Coast. This was indeed an ice breaker or more of “The” ice breaker. Some called it “The Final” as two of the continents biggest teams in terms of the caliber of players and experience as well as pedigree slogged it out for a place in the semi’s. A slow and steady but firm performance clinched them the victory in normal time not even extra time and the nation was impressed. People dropped their folded hands and began to look at their direction again, not fully, buy full of suprise as the Nigerian team overcame the obstacle on their way to the final in the 2006 edition and the semifinal in the 2013 edition. They dropped the draw soup and then picked up “Eagles”. It looked like something good was to come out of them so they wanted to see.

THE MALI GAME.

This was the last hurdle on their part to the final which had eluded this team since the dawn of this new century. Support increased on a slow pace, the government started making promises, people started praying, viewing centers started having more customers even though one could hardly see people putting on the Green and White jersey of the “Eagles”. A spectacular performance saw them triumph and cruise into the final with four goals to one. A brilliant performance that could not but restore the name they have always had but deprived of by both the supporters and the media. They were now “Super Eagles”. It wasn’t over yet as fingers were crossed as Nigerians watched the second semi-final game (Ghana vs Burkina Faso) hoping and praying for the latter to upset the dreams of the former as they thought it would be easier to beat Burkina Faso than Ghana. God was watching.

It so happened that he did answer and we got a date with Burkina Faso in the final.

THE FINAL.

It was a day which was indeed long awaited by Nigerians and even as they were in church (for those who went) they took time out to pray for Nigeria, for divine intervention in the game. Tension grew as the closing ceremony came to an end and it was time for the game. Lots of predictions, high hopes, fully packed viewing centers, sold out bars and all eyes on the 11 men who stood in the nations colors and sang the National anthem out in the battlefield, out to do their country proud. The fully packed stadium was green and white all through. One would ask if it was South Africa or Nigeria. Nigerians dropped aside ethnic differences, hate, quarrels, and put on the garment of love and support siting side by side with one another regardless of background, state of origin, tribe, religion and joined forces to see the “Super Eagles” emerge victorious. Even the Boko Haram guys took a time out of their bombings to support the team. It was indeed a “Reason to believe again”, in the “Super Eagles”, in one another and in our great country Nigeria. Even PHCN made sure we had light. (Funny right?). 90mins later it was all over and yes the gold came our way. Gunshots in the air went on endlessly, fireworks lighted up the sky, bottles were broken, beer was downed, bars were seeing on of their greatest turnovers ever, high end Nigerian pop music blasted everywhere as people took to the streets celebrating the “Super Eagles” for bringing the cup home again.

It was indeed a night that would stay fresh in the heart of all those who experienced the magical moment, tasted the well-deserved win, basked in the euphoria of the moment, drank down the tension and savored the victory. It was that moment when the “Super Eagles” of Nigeria brought home the AFCON CUP OF NATIONS back home after a 19year long wait. (A child was conceived, born, and now has beards)…

By Nado

Twitter: @nado1000

FB: Nado Writes…

“10 Reasons To Love ‘Daudu”

10. Alright Daudu is a beggar who plys his trade on Ikeja Along bridge. Lets give this dude some credit he is crippled and we should love everyone right?.

9. He resumes work early(earlier than you trust me). Each day I pass by the bridge early, lets say errrm 6:30am, Daudu is there already.

8. If you didn’t know, he is married. A fading gold ring can be seen on the fourth finger of his left hand. (Bad sharp guy.)

7. You should see him when he is not on the job. Fresh boy in his Ankara. You would so love him.

6. Oh need I say he wears a gold chain. 8k gold. Yes I can tell.

5. You must be wondering if you read right when I said he was a beggar right. Well yes he is, but he has a side job.

4. He works for LAWMA(Lagos State Waste Maintenance Agency). Department= bridge sweeping. Lol. But for real though.

3. Well my sources tell me this dude has a house, not rented, but built. A three bedroom bungalow somewhere at Egbeda in Lagos State. (You live in a rented apartment right?) This dude is a landlord.

2. He smiles while he greets you and you just can’t but hand him some cash.(you should see the wad of cash on his hand when he closes from work at 10am. Yes he works for just four hours a day and goes on with other runs. ‘correct guy’). How many hours do you work in a day. SMH

1. Lastly, my personal favorite, he earns close to N75,000 per month.(N2000 a day from begging=N60,000 per month, LAWMA salary=lets say N10,000, other runs=N5,000). And then they say there is no job in Lagos. Way to go brother, keep doing your thing.

Well, don’t you just love Daudu?

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