DEAR MOSES...--by Slick

(Image source: www.ctvnews.ca)

“Bartender, serve everybody beer for here!” Moses declared in a loud voice, trying to beat the volume of the music blaring from the DJ’s speakers at a beer hub just opposite his house. He was already on his fourth bottle of Legend Extra Stout. He was in high spirits as he had just received news of the successful delivery of a baby boy he had cried to the heavens for after already having four female children.

Every time he received news that his wife had given him a female child, the only thing on his mind was his legacy and who would carry it on to the next generation. The girls were going to be married off to some men and there would be no one to take care of things when he was no more. He had quarrels with his wife often times over the preference he gave to the male child.

“But all Children come from God. I don’t decide what forms in my womb,” his wife Rose would constantly say in a sad tone.

“Woman you won’t understand. All these erima wey you born put for this house, they would all be married off o.”

Let’s be frank. Even with the highest levels of education; an African man still holds having a male child in high places. To them, a male child is a symbol of strength and pride. You know that feeling when a man points out to his friends and says with a proud smile, “That’s my son,” and the so called friend would reply saying “He really looks like you.” (Was he supposed to look like the doctor that took his delivery?) But this mentality has done a lot of damage to the female folk.

My peeps in the North would tell you that only male children were allowed to go to school. The women ended up as baby making machines and full time kitchen staff. Sad! Why? Because history itself holds records of feats achieved by women which many men wouldn’t achieve in their lifetime.

Women are like a coin, they can make and destroy. A woman can help build and a woman can facilitate destruction more deadly than a bulldozer. Therefore, be it male or female, we should count children as truly a heritage from God; Freely given, even though we do engage in some physical exercise when the neighbours are fast asleep.  One can never tell what your female child can grow to become. If you happen to have all females as children, does it mean that you go ahead to commit suicide? No! Because your bundle of joy might just be the next Margaret Thatcher, Michelle Obama or Aisha Buhari. No gift from God is a bad gift.

A male child would definitely be a plus, but let us learn to treat our children fairly. This is not to say that only the men are at fault here. There are women that believe that they have had enough female children and would want a male child if not, it would seem like she had failed her husband.

It’s time for us to delete this evil thought from our minds and then begin to appreciate every human being that comes out with us from the labour room. Meanwhile, let me approach Moses for my own Heineken beer. No time to say No time.

EMEDIONG IS MISSING --by Nickz

(Image source: www.dreamstime.com)

"I am the police! You are the thief!" Nine year old Odudu told her playmate, Ekom. "If I catch you, you’ll become the police." She told the half naked boy as if he did not know the rules already. "I know! I know! Come and catch me...you will never reach me!" Ekom challenged his female playmate before speeding off with heels of chariot. Odudu ran after the meandering boy who was turning round every nook and cranny of the compound but was no way close. Ekom knew she was not a match for him so he slowed down, turned and faced her. "Catch me! Catch me!" He said in a taunting manner. He waited until Odudu came close before he ran off again. "I’m not playing again. You don’t want me to catch you. I’m not playing again." A panting and sweaty Odudu complained and was about giving up before Ekom agreed to switch roles and be the pursuer.

At the other flat, Mama Mfoniso’s kids were inside taking their garri and okro soup. Their Mom had just brought them back from school and instructed them to eat and take their naps before she rushed back to her workplace. Mfoniso was eleven, three years older than her younger brother Emediong. "They are playing police and thief outside! I will go and play!" Little Emediong said excitedly, barely able to remain in his skin. "But Mommy said nobody should go outside. If you go, I’ll tell her," Mfoniso discouraged her little brother. "Please don’t tell her now, I will give you my meat. Take." His pleading eyes sitting on his chubby face was not enough to soften her protective sister’s mind until he dipped his hand into his soup and transferred his meat to her plate. "Hmmm, this your tiny meat is what you are giving me. Oya, you can go and play but if Mommy comes back and catches you, I’m not there o!" "She will not catch me. Yeahhhh...let me go and play police and thief!" He dipped his hands into the wash basin and washed hastily, wiped his mouth and zoomed out.

The sun was high and the noon was scorching but Odudu and Ekom only felt the fun of running after one another in turns. When Odudu spotted Emediong running out to join them, she jubilated as the game would become bigger and better. "Emediong is here! Ekom wait." Emediong’s grin beamed as he ran towards them with his round belly and big navel. He was always the spice in every play; he always built the best sand house, he always cooked the best soup when they played Mommy and Daddy, his hiding spot was always untraceable when they played hide and seek, he was the best storyteller during moonlight evenings (though most of the stories were unimaginable and highly exaggerated for excitement purpose). "Police and thief is not sweet now, I want us to play hide and seek," the little boy announced. Everyone agreed happily. Ekom and Odudu were already getting bored of the cat and mouse race. "Put your feet here, let us count and know who will be the seeker," Ekom said, his body gleaming like groundnut oil. "Mfoniso, come and play with us, we will not tell your Mommy," Odudu invited Emediong’s sister. Mfoniso was leaning on the steel post in their veranda, looking so hungry to join them at the same time, trying not to disobey her mother. In fact, it was just her body standing there, her soul and mind was in the game. She so yearned to join her mates. "Mfoniso come now! See, your brother has mind more than you. You are doing like taa-taa. Fear fear. Come, we will not tell your Mommy." No, she was not a taa-taa. She was a big girl and wouldn’t want to be seen like a cowardly being, especially when her younger brother was there. She slowly and shyly came down the steps and joined them in the center of the compound. She included her right foot for counting in the circle of feet. "If-your-leg-is-too-dir-ty-please-take-it-out-and wash-it-clean!" Ekom sang the regular counting song, pointing finger at each foot according to the syllables of the words. After the eliminations, Mfoniso was left as the seeker. She was to close her eyes and count to twenty while others used the short time to find hiding spots. Anybody she found first would join her to search for others.

"One...two...three...four...ten...fifteen...nineteen...twenty! Here I come." Mfoniso opened her eyes after the count and started searching for her mates. The compound was made up of old bungalows of the ‘80s. There were many corners suitable for hiding especially behind one of the bungalows where there was an uncompleted and abandoned storey building. Ekom had climbed the grassy stairway to the first floor which was covered with weed and creeping plants. He found a room and hid himself quietly. Odudu was a little scared to go that high so she went under the stairs and squatted in a very dern position. When Mfoniso started her search, she checked inside their house first in case they decided to pull a fast one. She found no one. The second place on her list was the storey building. They had been warned several times not to go there but they didn’t understand why the adults always wanted to ruin everything that gave them fun. She climbed the steps and while she was on her way up, she heard a giggle and regressed. Odudu was found. Together, they went up and fetched Ekom. The last man standing was Emediong. The three stepped down to find him.

They searched the whole compound and their houses but there was no trace of him. The rule of the game was that if you were not found, the person’s name would be yelled round for him to emerge from the hiding spot. They did that round the compound for minutes. They went out of their compound to the nearby compound and asked the kids there if they saw him but they all shrugged in denial. An hour had passed and there was no sign of Emediong. The three kids looked worried and were unwilling to report to an adult as they assumed it was one of his funny ploys. It got to two hours and their worries mounted. "When he is tired, he will come out. Me, I will go to my house and stay." Odudu said and walked away, wearing a frown of annoyance. Mfoniso was the most worried. Their mother would be back in few minutes and everything will be on her head. If only they had obeyed and took their naps. She started to sob out of fear. "Don’t cry now, let us go and tell my Mommy and tell her everything. She can help us," Ekom consoled, hoping the suggestion would be effective.

Together the kids went and reported the situation to Mama Ekom who was turning foofoo over firewood and a tri-stand fireplace behind their house. At first, she took them for granted but when she noticed Mfoniso was sobbing, she taught better of it. "You these children, when they say sit down one place, you will not hear. Now you see! Mbok wait let me put down this foofoo before anything else." In few minutes time, she was done with her engagement and rose to assist. As they turned to the front of the house, they saw Mfoniso’s Mom returning. She noticed from their faces that all wasn’t right. "Mfoniso, nsido? Ayinukaa?" She asked the daughter what the matter was. After hearing the story, it was Mama Ekom’s intervention and conviction that stopped her from caning the hell out of the sobbing girl for disobedience.

It was 6:30pm and still no sign of the 8year old boy. Other neighbours had been alerted by then and the whole neighborhood joined the search. Mfoniso’s mother couldn’t hold her emotions anymore. She burst out weeping and lamenting. "Oh! Akpan mmi o. Ebo ke akpan mmi aba mó? Oh! Kase mien!" The other women consoled her not to lose hope, though none of them could come up with a suitable explanation of her son’s whereabouts. The days were evil and there was recent news about money ritual abductions of kids. That was their greatest fear but no one could dare mention that.

Few minutes to 7pm, a vehicle drove into the compound, catching the attention of all the members of the search party who were gathered at Mama Mfoniso’s veranda. They all rose in expectation for the worst. It was a pick-up truck. As soon as the headlamps went off, a man stepped out to meet them. The other door opened and a small boy stepped out too, obviously the subject of panic, Emediong. The man held the boy’s hand and took him towards the standing crowd. "Is this your son?" The man asked the woman who rushed out to sweep off the boy in an embrace. "Yes sir, he is my son. Mbók where did you find him?" The man gave a breath of relief and told them. "I did not know he was hiding at the back of my parked truck until I had driven all the way to Ikot Ekpene. He was lying flat and covered himself with this material. I had to drive back to Uyo and return him. I’ll be leaving now. I’m not sure I’ll meet up with an important meeting I had. Good night to all of you."

WHY I WEEP --by Slick

It is with a heavy heart that I write this article but that’s what we do here; express what you feel in words.

I walked into the banking hall of a UBA branch just close to my house and the crowd I encountered at 8:30am on a Monday morning was like people waiting to see a very powerful man of God. I decided to brace up for standing for the next hour before I would be attended to by the personnel at the Customer Services section.

The guy at the table whose name tag read Kayode Badmus picked up the receiver of the telephone on his desk and said “Please call me Eno.” Imagine the excitement in my heart when I heard the name “Eno” A lady from my state of origin was a bank staff in this western part of the country; boy, I was ready to speak our dialect with her whenever she made her way to this crowded section of the bank. She would definitely be pretty too. In a space of three quick minutes, I had envisioned what our encounter would be like.

My joy was soon to be cut short when a lady holding a mop stick and rags in her hands dressed in green apron appeared from the shadows  and said “Oga, dem talk say you dey find me.” Could this be Eno? The same Eno I had painted beautiful mental pictures about? Chai! A common cleaner in the bank.

“When you are done, come get me some food from the eatery.” Kayode blurted out from his ‘Yorubaish’ lips.

She simply nodded in affirmation. I looked at the head she nodded and wished I could hack it off. I asked myself, Why e be say my people just like to dey do house help work? Before it used to be folks from Benin republic, but now na my people. What happened to all the free skill acquisition schemes and the free and compulsory education scheme a former Governor put in place?

Agencies responsible for recruiting maids for people have made a fortune from shopping for potentials in Akwa Ibom. This kind tin dey make person shame sef, because once you tell person say you be Calabar, e mean say you  dey either chop dog, be houseboy, gateman or Okada rider...or very good at sex. These scenarios are even worse over here in the city of Lagos. Six out of ten homes usually have a brother or sister of mine slaving out their lives based on cheap promises and peanuts they earn as salaries.

I had the opportunity of talking to another “Eno” on the 1st of January 2016 and she narrated how she ended up as a house help in Lagos. Her parents had pushed her into it, hoping that she would make enough money to change their living condition. On various occasions, her parents would call her handlers to ask them to be given a token out of their daughter’s salary. I felt so much rage that I had to inquire if her parents were cripple or bed ridden, but to my surprise they were hale and hearty.

There are many other reasons why my people end up living in deplorable conditions in strange cities in the name of making a living. It has eaten deep into the veins of my people such that it has begun to feel like a syndrome. Even when they make a living, they refuse to develop or grow; instead they are comfortable living in squalor.

I recall my favourite Olamide lyrics, “Better be a Lion in the Jungle, than to be a Dog in the City”. If I were in Eno’s shoes I would save up some money, acquire some skills and go back home and live like a Lion than have some Idiot usher me off to the eatery every time he needs to feed his worms. It’s time for the Government of the day to make a positive and visible impact in the lives of “Enos living in diaspora”. Let us redeem our image. Let us change what we are known for. The Igbos are known to be business oriented, Yorubas party lovers, Hausas diligent people and the list goes on.

Share this message with every Eno, Okon, Akpan, Emem, Itoro around you.  

THE PHOTOGRAPHER 6 --by Rose

(Image source: gettyimages.com)

Duncan was confused, his fiancée had just left the house dropping a message with the housekeeper. She had already done the same thing last week. This meeting with the caterers was putting a delay on their pre-wedding photo shoot. He just shrugged and left for the court to arrange their marriage documents.

He couldn't wait for the wedding. Nadina was the love of his life and he was sure she was the woman for him, only she could fill the void in his heart. He loved her to death. It was rare to find such a beautiful lady who could be so loyal to a man. Nadina was his angel, he looked at her picture one more time before hitting the road.

She arrived the park earlier than the agreed time. She couldn't wait for Bode; she needed to hug him, hold him close and love him. She spread a red mat over the green grass and settled to watch the blue pond before her. She brought her camera out to take pictures of the flamingoes that flew around the pond. Click! Click! She had taken about twenty shots when a hand covered her face, and she smiled, "Bode my darling," he chuckled, and released her as he kissed her neck. They were lucky it was a private park or their torrid escapades would have caused a scandal. He plucked a water lily, inhaled it and put it on her hair. She just smiled. "Here, let me have that," he took the camera from her and struck a convenient pose, taking time to capture her beauty and the ambience of the park, "Wow, this looks good baby, I love this picture! Uhmm you are really talented." Of course he was. The pictures he took of her where clearly different from her own selfies. He joined her on the mat and ate the cookie she handed him. He quickly remembered her gift. He bought her a perfume; Axador, a classic fragrance. She was speechless, she loved perfumes! She just hugged him, and they stayed that way for minutes, he understood her unspoken message, she was grateful for the gift. "What do you have for me?" He eyed her mischievously. Dark angel he thought. "You ain't getting any," she retorted wickedly. He quickly remembered her friend Udeme, he couldn't get her out of his mind, she was always there, "so what’s with your friend?" She pretended to be confused.

"Who?" "The one getting married," the one who has my love, he thought. "Udeme of course," she smiled. "She’s great, quite busy with her wedding preparations, I hardly see her these days," she broke the conversation and made to silent him with a kiss.

He knew this trick, she always avoided talking about her friend. He tilted his head away and she looked at him angrily, "what was that for?" He winked. "Let's talk some more." Ok, she had this. "So tell me about yourself, everything, how you became a photographer…" He smiled, "well I had passion for photography since childhood but my parents never encouraged it. I was forced to study accounting to replace my father in our industries. I agreed and after school, I worked at Pesocorp Limited, that is an extension of one of the industries, I worked there for about five years while saving up money to go into full time Photography. My father being a very rigid man forced me to sign an agreement to continue working for him while carrying out my "wasteful passions", as he referred to photography that way. I agreed and kept working two jobs. my breakthrough came when I won an award of the best landscape photographer in West Africa. My father wasn't satisfied, he didnt wanna let me go, so he created an extension of Pesocorp Limited for me to run, he called it Artmaster Luxuries. That’s why I picked the name Artmaster." He finished the diet coke and reached for another. She was pleased; a hardworking man just like Duncan, she always got the rich ones. "Why the smile?" He asked, she looked mischievous right now. "Well darling, your story thrilled me," he swept her into his arms, and unleashed his passion on her, she surrendered and they became one.

After the act, he kept thinking of Udeme, "Hey baby can I speak to your friend on phone?" Nadina looked hurt, how could he ask for Udeme's number after this? She felt so stupid all of a sudden, but he calmed her fears with his kiss, "Ok, I will give you the number," she copied out Udeme's Old and unused number for him, he was so pleased, "Baby you are the best!"

Udeme had a low fashion sense, she had to browse on how to dress for an interview. With the little money she had, she had she ordered for clothes from Bee's Fashion house. Hell! She was hot, she quickly went through her books once again, she made extra effort in preparation, this was a golden opportunity and she wouldn't miss it. She barely knew much about the firm she was heading for interview so she did a little research. She quickly typed "Artmaster Luxuries" to know more about the firm, it was an online networking company, just like Konga and Jumia, but with a wider network, although their goods were more expensive. They distributed clothes, books, foodstuffs, fashion accessories, and surprisingly pictures. That was interesting, she clicked on the picture icon and thousands of pictures got displayed. These pictures had a lot in common with that of Bode Thomas. There was something very familiar. Well it was getting late, she got off the bed, said a prayer and slept.

She dreamt of Bode, they stood together by the bank of an unknown river, he told her of his love, of how she was meant to be his wife, but he looked sad. "Please don't leave me," he cried. She was confused as she stepped closer, but when she was about to hug him, a woman dressed in white pulled him away and she screamed and woke up, it was already dawn.

THE EXPERIMENT 3 --by Nickz

(Image source: youtube.com)

Dear reader, this piece is a continuation of the previous parts; The Experiment 1&2. It would make more sense after reading the previous two parts. Do enjoy your time!

The initiation progressed at a gradual rate. It would take exactly one hour for the twenty models to be ready. “I think it will work,” Dr Ayinka said in a voice that carried slight uncertainty. “Why do I sense pessimism there Doc, huh?” the tech guy, Hooke queried in response. Dr Natalia, all the while had her stare on the monitors, observing for any cause for alarm. The electrocardiogram along with other high tech monitors proved everything was going well. It was a four stage initiation process: the cerebro stage, where the memories of the creatures were rebuilt with programmed data; the adrenogenesis, a process that would induce the synthesized fluid into their blood stream; the revosis, a stage that would revive the creatures from their unconsciousness and the reactomatrix, the real performance test which they were built for.

On completion of the third stage, the models came to life and responded positively to several body examinations. They were still within the confines of their cylinders (Life Units). “Professor, as you can see, the models are responding remarkably to the examinations. I recommend we proceed to the next stage,” Dr Natalia spoke into the receiver. Professor Lukas was swiveling on his office seat more in confidence than anxiety. He was watching everything on partitioned screens, showing little or no trace of perturbation. He always produced results. “Convey a single model to the simulation unit for physical test,” he ordered. With controlled mechanical links, one Life Unit was conveyed to the new environment.  This was where the tech guy from Singapore came in. Mr. Hooke had designed a virtual environment for physical examination of the gigantic creatures. Their combat skills would be tested with virtual hostiles in real life scenarios including assaults, covered ops and close combats. It could be compared to watching a movie with 3D cinema glasses; an imaginative environment, though it was more advanced. This was necessary to test how they’ll react to real life confrontations.

According to the Prof’s instruction, Sapiens Un, the first model in the series was conveyed to the simulation unit for its final tests. It emerged from the Life Unit into the Virtual Combat Unit (simulation unit). The gigantic creature stepped out looking dreadful and ferocious. It was at least 10ft tall and three across. Its face was void of emotion of any sort. There in the VCU, it displayed brutality and flawless combat skills and great compliance to programmed commands. It was exactly what Lukas wanted.

The old man gave off a breath of satisfaction and rubbed his palms together in excitement. Uncapping the bottle of scotch on his table was a nice idea but there was still something more important to be done. He punched a combination and dialed. “Yes, Mr. Dalimil, we’re ready for business. Let’s meet at sundown, PlayHill Park. Alright, see you then.” He reached for a tumbler and decanted his liquor.

So many questions were not asked, probably out of professional respect and the mutual benefits deal but Dr Ayinka had his fears and concerns. Not that his services were not adequately paid for. In fact, his bank account in Nigeria had received a wired transfer of €1.5m. Even after successfully delivering the task, the Prof had not given approval for their exit from the facility. It had been long weeks of continuous work without seeing sunlight, though all their basic needs were sufficiently provided in the sub earth facility. Still, his feeling of suspicion mounted. Why did the old man hire services from outside his country? Why was the operation below the radar? Or was it a government project as he tried to make it appear? Who was Lukas? He was too tired to go knocking on Natalia’s door for a late chat. Maybe she could have some answers that would clear his doubts. Maybe he was being paranoid. She probably was having a sound rest by now, he imagined. He was equally exhausted too, a refreshing shower and a soothing bed was more paramount.

The professor watched two little kids dragging for a toy, they appeared to be siblings. The older one, probably five, refused to hand over the fluffed Barney doll to his younger brother who looked probably three years old, not until the mother came and intervened. The chilly air and activities at the park was refreshing from the stressful days work. People were living their lives, lovers holding hands, families sharing times, hoping for the ideal life. “Sometimes, I imagine the world would be happier if we remained kids,” Mr. Dalimil Bronislav announced his arrival as he took a seat beside the waiting professor. “What do you think Lukas?” Dalimil liked creeping up from behind than coming from the front. Maybe it was his way of reminding Lukas of his skills as a one-time private detective. “I think life is a struggle for survival. There’s no peace without war, no war without peace. Everything has a price,” Lukas replied. Mr. Dalimil Bronislav gave off a smile and adjusted the bridge of his glasses. He was in his late seventies, an honorable member of the Slovak National Council, one of the few that made laws for the country. He was a childhood friend of Lukas. Growing up together, facing hell together and becoming successful together gave them stronger ties than bloodline. “Project LIFE is set,” Lukas announced, barely shifting his gaze from the playing kids. The honorable member knew that Lukas was a very busy man, as well as himself and there was only one thing that could warrant such an ill-timed meeting—Project LIFE. He smiled. Lukas has made him proud once again and he was willing to make every sweat and toil into the project payoff. He would recommend the bioengineered sapiens to the Prime Minister but he was sure the PM wouldn’t buy such an idea too early, not until there was a reason to. There had to be a motivator, something that would make the country eager and desperate to purchase the wrecking ball sapiens, maybe a war. And they knew how to make that happen, considering the sad losses they both suffered from Hungary in the Little War of 1939. “Remember what the Hungarians did to our families? How they drove us from our lands, made us homeless servants, brought pain and death upon our people? I still carry the marks. I think we have our time now. It’s not just business, it’s payback. I’ll get in touch after I put strategies in place, Lukas. Good night.” 

He watched his friend depart to his parked SUV. He remembered what he saw during that war, he was a little above six. He always knew one day, he would have his time. If there was any rumor of attack or even the slightest hostility from Hungary, the Slovak government would pay anything to make them bleed out. He was the person for the business and Dalimil was the person to spur the rumor—or an actual attack. He had lied to Dr. Ayinka, it had always been about power and money. He would deal with him later.

THE PHOTOGRAPHER 5 --by Rose

 

(Image source: gettyimages.com)

They returned to Bode's estate some minutes later. "Whew! That was so good," she remarked. "Oh yeah? Did you like it?"

She looked into his handsome face and wished she was his alone. "Are you in a relationship?" He looked startled wondering what had promoted the question. Well he gave her the answer. "No" She felt satisfied. She couldn't imagine sharing her new found love. Oops Udy, you missed this one. Now she had to make a decision, she was lost between two worlds. Not that Duncan wasn't a great guy, it was just that he was boring, although she knew he loved her to death. It was Bode that had stolen her heart.

He took her to his garden, and ordered for lunch to be made, he was going to treat her to an Asian recipe and she was all smiles. How did he know she liked Asian? Especially that extra addition of spice, she was thrilled, he was actually meant for her. "Intuition," he said. "By mere looking at your full lips, I knew you are for spicy food." She shook her head and smiled, he was funny! She had almost forgotten about her appointment with the caterers, she had to eat hurriedly and he noticed that. "What's with the rush?" "Uhmmm, I, uhmm, I just have to go right now." That’s really strange he thought. "Ok, you could come back and spend the night?"

She just stared blankly at the flowers, coming back would be fun but she had to put things in place, "No darling, I won't make it, see you another time," she pecked his forehead, and left for her car.

He waved reluctantly, and watched her drive off. He had been with a good number of women to know when they told a lie. Something was up. Maybe they were both players. Well, he wasn't the least perturbed, he was just in it for the passion, that was all. One of the reasons he avoided amorous ties were things like this; insincerity. He smacked his head a little. Darn! He had forgotten to ask for her friend's number. Although she was getting married, at least he could just be friends with her. Udeme...he liked the name and the way it sounded and the way it suited the bearer.

She sat for hours before her laptop searching for personal accounts of Bode Thomas but kept seeing public ones. How on earth could she relate her emotions on social platform? Well, she saw his official account: "Artmaster: Bode Thomas". She clicked, "follow". What a wasted day, she got up to make herself some biscuits. Udeme was a very good cook, baking was one of her many talents.

"Hello babes, can you come over to my place, I have gotten the designs for the bridesmaids," Nadie had finally gotten serious with her wedding plans. "Whaow thank God, would be there in thirty minutes. Keep food for me o," she hung up and picked her bag heading to the house of her betrayer.

Duncan met her at the door. He looked quite unhappy. "Hello Dee what's wrong? Why the face?" He looked up the stairs to be sure Nadie was far away. She had been disconnected from him few days lately, he didn't like it and he had to confide in his friend. "Udeme, Nadie has been acting strange. She does this when I hurt her. Now I don't know what I have done. Please just find out what the problem is, thank you." Udeme remained silent for a while, nodded and left. He was really a slave she thought, how could a guy be so weak? Your girl misbehaves and you can't even man up and approach her for a conversation, she was beginning to see Duncan's flaws, he had fallen so deeply for Nadine. Well, she wouldn’t interfere in their business. For crying out loud, they were getting married soon. Would she still be called to settle their differences? She pushed the thoughts out and went to Nadie's room.

"These designs are superb," she praised Nadie. She was the stylish chic amongst their circle of friends. This was something else. Little wonder Bees House was one of the best Fashion houses around. "Let me get you something to chew, I’m coming!" Nadie announced vivaciously and left for the kitchen. Wow, this was nice, she couldn't wait for her friend's wedding. She looked around the room for other costumes, and was immediately drawn to a painting that hung near Nadie's Mirror. It was perfect. If the Mona Lisa was the best painting in the world, then this was second. She kept touching the painting, a beautiful girl with large green eyes. Wow, Nadina always had eyes for beautiful things but it didn't look bought. She hadn't seen any wrap papers around, it looked old but still beautiful. She needed to meet this artist for her own portrait.

Nadie walked in with steaming plate of fish pepper soup. "Wow, lovely one! Where did you get the painting from?" Udeme asked curiously but Nadie hesitated, she had to find a quick lie! Damn it! "Uhmmm, the Fashion House gave me as a souvenir for buying lots of stuff from their shop," Wow, Udeme thought. That sounded weird. "Ok, I was thinking, I might go there and ask for this artist, I need a portrait too." Now, Nadie froze. If her friend found out she was lying, her woes would have just begun. "Ok no problem, we'll go when you are ready "With that her phone ring broke the awkward conversation.  "Hello, baby..." She quickly entered the bathroom and switched on the tap as a decoy.

His deep voice made her yearn for his love the more. This guy was an angel. She was Just so happy to hear his voice again and said yes to virtually everything he asked, "Let's see this evening, choose a venue convenient for you." She just smiled. "Let's meet at the park along Cherris highway." She liked its scenery, "Ok, what should I get you?" Wow this guy was prince charming, just the romantic guy she wanted. "Well, anything, anything at all," she blew him a kiss and dropped the call.

Wow! She breathed, closed her eyes for a moment and smiled. She was in love with Bode, she was sure but the feeling was replaced with confusion. Her wedding was coming up, she had to make up her mind; Duncan or Bode?

"And why would Duncan call you instead of walking to this room?" Udeme asked her friend who was visibly beginning to act different.

"It wasn't Duncan, my younger brother just called." Udeme was quiet. Who calls her younger brother baby in Nigeria? Alright anyway, Nadie was the crazy type.

"Ok Mrs Duncan," she teased. "Hey pointa correction, it’s ‘soon to be’," she laughed, and her heart flustered at the thought of getting married and leaving Bode to another woman. "Whatever o, I’m going, I have a job interview on Monday, got to prepare well," she informed Nadie. Udeme was really lucky she had been invited for an interview that could earn her the office of a legal partner in the firm. It was a big firm with five branches in different parts of Africa, a branch in London and Two in the Caribbean. It was a distribution network for distribution of goods within the parts of the world. She got lucky to be invited for the job. At least this will distract her from Bode for a little while.

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN --by Slick

(image source: hooverlibrary.org)

So I read somewhere today that a popular Nollywood actress from the South-South was appointed as Special Assistant to the Governor of Akwa Ibom State on Tourism. I just laughed and quizzed myself on the basis for her appointment. Was it because she featured in movies, because she paid eye-service at political rallies, or because she was a regular face at the Calabar carnival?

Deep thoughts huh? I thought so too. Call me whatever you like, but I think Ime Bishop a.k.a Okon Lagos or some other person would have understood the purpose of that kind of office in a state that has more special assistants than secondary schools. If you ask a Nollywood faithful who gave Akwa Ibom exposure in the entertainment scene, he or she would whisper “Iyammi” in your ears. From the movie hits he made, Akwa Ibom was seen in a different light. You don’t know the feeling we get when we hear someone say “That una Calabar guy funny die!”

Secondly, this lady we are talking about is yet to find a balance when it comes to matrimony. Yet I heard that the former Governor ensured that all special servants, sorry Special Assistants under his administration were married. Thus enforcing and instilling in them a sense of responsibility. If person no sabi siddon for toilet, na nyash e go sabi clean? But the Iyammi crooner has shown positive potential in this aspect as he is married with a beautiful daughter to crown it.

Think about it, the only time we see this Aunty is when there’s a state function or Carnival at the end of the year where she would come to show us her new sneakers. Aunty, people like us do not care about that. If you must be an ambassador to a state as beautiful as Akwa Ibom, then availability is important. Stop treating yourself like the eclipse of the sun where we see you once in a very long time.  Uncle Okon is ever available when we need him. All na phone call o. No be to dey beg you for follow back for twitter.

Ime is an Amana Isong (son of the soil), who knows the terrain and crannies of Akwa Ibom. One who knows what needs to be done to win the hearts of people. No formings, raw as he can get. What better person to expose Akwa Ibom to the society at large! Everyone would want to identify with the place that this bundle of laughter and entertainment originates from.

At this point, you are probably wondering who I am referring to. Well, it’s that Aunty whose name translates as Time in English. Yeah! Now you got it.