Aright, I never anticipated, didn’t think I was gonna be doing this. Taking out the laptop from its cozy bag and typing but hey, its 1am..and as Omawunmi would say on twitter..my eye dey shine like head lamp. I cant sleep really. Wanted to update my journal, but after going thru some of my fave blogs, am updating my blog instead. Ya lucky devils.
PHEW! Its been helluva week and i should be throwing a party but i feel just plain exhausted, you know. Like am ill yet not ill...i know, kindda confusing.cos it confuses me too. Between sniffing*cold* and checking out my fave blogs, i just cant help but wonder how some people’s lives can be so in-te-res-ting...its almost unreal. For serious.
Just going thru Lamz..”cuz i said so” blog and am like ..WT**&%# really? Do people actually live like that? Oh yes, they do. So she had to breeze into Nigeria for bla bla, then off to California, and then she had brunch with these cool guys, hung out at bla bla, then off to..wait for this ...ELLEN..like SERIOUSLY? As in she went for Ellen ..infact, d whole thing just got me reeling how can one’s life be so drab and dull, while someone else’s is so freakn interesting and television lie. URGH! Dont get me started on Kemi Adetiba and her “touchdown newyork”..when am touching down “oba market” in benin. ARRGHHH...
Okay, forget about the ranting. It happens. Tosyn Bucknor, my all time favourite gal also got a coupla posts too, just her usual inspiring self...that gets you thinking..’ how in heaven’s name does she get it going?”
Read about Lamz’ work being erased from her back up drive and i felt her pain. Kindda experienced something like that this week. Christos. All the work i had done, seriously, i had been staying up late, working on these articles for a creative workshop entry* Oh my Gosh, forgotten how difficult it was to do fiction. Had to keep adjusting my freaking thinking cap* Alright , and then i had to print, and the woman totally wiped out my entire work, plus all my other priceless, invaluable documents. Arrgggh...i cried. Yes, i did. I blamed everybody and myself. I know, i know, why dint i have a damn back up and all...but u know these things, u just assume, and then pay for ur assumption.
DEVASTATED! That WAS THE WORD. But somthing happened. You. Wont. Believe. If. i. told. You. But remind me again why i love God? I recovered my files. True. Dont know how, but i did..in d middle of the night, checked out the system i was using * BTW, shout out to my gurl of all times, iguehikha, a.k.a stapha. For loaning me her laptop all this time, when “mine” started acted up. kisses. mwah!”
Yep...and i found d files. Not ALL of them, but most of it, The articles, i had to do again and i will be sharing wiv u guys. As for d workshop, its wayyy past the deadline, but since when did deadlines ever deter me*wink* still tryn to work on my procrastinating ass. I’ll do dat tomorrow..lol.
Went to the post office today..and dropped a letter in d box. Old fashioned way twas...well u know, old fashioned, But there’s something about conventions. Nothing like “mail in the box” and this is not electronically speaking.
Trying to get my dad to send a car over. I know , i know..long shot but then who knows...sick and tired of hauling my bag-make that, “bags”- around. By God, my chest hurts you know. Plus, a car will seriously add value to my life right now. Wont tell you how.
And about that dull drab life.. been jamming Chris Allen’, LIVE LIKE WE’R DYING..and its oh so true. Really, there’s no reason you should not Go for it...today. I lost a cousin last month. She was 25., and married for 6months. It was a dark period for my family and i keep thinking...what were the many things she kept for ‘later’? What are the many things am keeping for “later”? The love, life, happiness, moments , events, occasions, friendships, laughter, truth, skills, bonds, dreams, even the almost non consequential items on my “to-do-list”...that turn out to be significant...later?
So am gonna live life , like am dying. Am gonna make that call and let him know how much he affects me, am gonna let her know she means more than she thinks , and i value her, am gonna let them know am not gonna give them the power to hurt me any more, am gonna let my dreams live, however small, however eccentric, am granting a lease of life to my insides.
Am going for that wedding, yeah, u know, d one in kafanchan? Yeah. Am going there cos i wanna know what Kafanchan looks like. And am buying those great shoes, Painting different colours on my nails* might get my ma shocked, but she’l get over it*, try some karaoke , have the laughs of the century and probably get my hair locked, always wanted to try dreads. See what i’ld look like, probably cuter, And hey, am leaving WORK at WORK.
Let’s start by me taking you to dinner ...Time ,Date, Venue.... bill’s on me!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
A trip from reality…
I stumbled upon an old stuff i had written a while back. I loved it then. Still do. Of course , some facts must have changed but i guess the message remains nonetheless.Here's for your reading pleasure.
A trip from reality…
I was lying on my bed, doing stuff when my 8 yr. old cousin walked in and literally fell in beside me. After moments of silence where I practically ignored her, the words came out, “I wish my life were high school musical.” Alright, she totally got my attention. I looked at her for a while, and then I started laughing. Where did that come from?
Okay, she’d just had tons of minutes of Disney channel and was obviously reeling from the fact that her life could be so dull, drab and uninteresting compared to theirs. I mean, Hannah Montana, Cheetah girls, High school musical, Cody and Tory, Jonas brothers…hello?
How does that compare with her having to wear not so funky uniforms to school, hang out with guys who aren’t half as fun, do boring arithmetic and spelling, and to top it, eat amala and ewedu for dinner? Where were the pretty clothes, infinite chocolate and ice cream, cute boy band with their crazy guitars? In her child’s eye, her life was dour.
And so I counseled her the way I knew best. The way her dad counsels her mum when he finds her on African magic and E! “This stuff isn’t real. It’s just a world of fantasy.” Yeah right.
My little cousin may be dismissed for her adventurous imagination but come to think of it, quite a number of us will plead guilty as charged to such indulgences. How about those vacations to wisteria lane with the desperate housewives? Perhaps it will help to know that Eva Longoria (Gabrielle Solis) was paid $30,000 per episode in season one which jumped to $250,000 per episode in season two.
Want to make a guess as to her earnings today? Her total assets gross $9 million, which include an upscale Mexican restaurant, BESO in LA with plans to expand, plus endorsement deals from L’Oreal, and Chris aire.
This happens while we sit all day, our minds churning a thousand reasons why we can’t start that business, get that capital, launch that career, take that step; and not a single reason why we should get up and get going. We’d rather be lost in the fantasies of “I wish …’ and “What ifs”.
Besides, the hours we spend gushing oohs and aahs over red carpet designer dresses, power couples and gossip won’t do us much good. Still trying to deduce how Angelina Jolie prised Brad Pitt from Jennifer Aniston? (Not to mention how smart and lucky you think she is.) You probably have forgotten that the couple work hard, birthing babies and making serious money. We get so involved with other people’s lives, our ideas, proposals, and intended projects sit a top our shelves gathering dust.
Our men imagine they love the premiership more than the English themselves. The fact that they don’t get to smell the million dollar cheque these players collect or that the name C. Ronaldo or John Terry bears no correlation with their housekeeping allowance, doesn’t seem to erode the euphoria this fantasy presents.
The next time you get excited over D’banj’s album, remember that the kokomaster has got endorsement deals from virgin colours, Globacom, Chris Aire jewelers/ time pieces, established the koko foundation, been named the ambassador for youths, and now, moved over to the koko mansion. Don’t get me started on Beyoncé, on her money, music and her man. Just keep shouting to all the single ladies, wishing you were a boy!
So while we are quick to have a good laugh at my little cousin, let’s remember that regardless of the realities of getting and keeping a job, settling bills, pursuing a career, and family responsibilities, fantasies exist on several levels.
Bill Gates, founder of Microsoft when asked about his incredible success, couldn’t have said it better “Unlike television, real people have to leave the coffee shop and go to work.” Noted, sir!
A trip from reality…
I was lying on my bed, doing stuff when my 8 yr. old cousin walked in and literally fell in beside me. After moments of silence where I practically ignored her, the words came out, “I wish my life were high school musical.” Alright, she totally got my attention. I looked at her for a while, and then I started laughing. Where did that come from?
Okay, she’d just had tons of minutes of Disney channel and was obviously reeling from the fact that her life could be so dull, drab and uninteresting compared to theirs. I mean, Hannah Montana, Cheetah girls, High school musical, Cody and Tory, Jonas brothers…hello?
How does that compare with her having to wear not so funky uniforms to school, hang out with guys who aren’t half as fun, do boring arithmetic and spelling, and to top it, eat amala and ewedu for dinner? Where were the pretty clothes, infinite chocolate and ice cream, cute boy band with their crazy guitars? In her child’s eye, her life was dour.
And so I counseled her the way I knew best. The way her dad counsels her mum when he finds her on African magic and E! “This stuff isn’t real. It’s just a world of fantasy.” Yeah right.
My little cousin may be dismissed for her adventurous imagination but come to think of it, quite a number of us will plead guilty as charged to such indulgences. How about those vacations to wisteria lane with the desperate housewives? Perhaps it will help to know that Eva Longoria (Gabrielle Solis) was paid $30,000 per episode in season one which jumped to $250,000 per episode in season two.
Want to make a guess as to her earnings today? Her total assets gross $9 million, which include an upscale Mexican restaurant, BESO in LA with plans to expand, plus endorsement deals from L’Oreal, and Chris aire.
This happens while we sit all day, our minds churning a thousand reasons why we can’t start that business, get that capital, launch that career, take that step; and not a single reason why we should get up and get going. We’d rather be lost in the fantasies of “I wish …’ and “What ifs”.
Besides, the hours we spend gushing oohs and aahs over red carpet designer dresses, power couples and gossip won’t do us much good. Still trying to deduce how Angelina Jolie prised Brad Pitt from Jennifer Aniston? (Not to mention how smart and lucky you think she is.) You probably have forgotten that the couple work hard, birthing babies and making serious money. We get so involved with other people’s lives, our ideas, proposals, and intended projects sit a top our shelves gathering dust.
Our men imagine they love the premiership more than the English themselves. The fact that they don’t get to smell the million dollar cheque these players collect or that the name C. Ronaldo or John Terry bears no correlation with their housekeeping allowance, doesn’t seem to erode the euphoria this fantasy presents.
The next time you get excited over D’banj’s album, remember that the kokomaster has got endorsement deals from virgin colours, Globacom, Chris Aire jewelers/ time pieces, established the koko foundation, been named the ambassador for youths, and now, moved over to the koko mansion. Don’t get me started on Beyoncé, on her money, music and her man. Just keep shouting to all the single ladies, wishing you were a boy!
So while we are quick to have a good laugh at my little cousin, let’s remember that regardless of the realities of getting and keeping a job, settling bills, pursuing a career, and family responsibilities, fantasies exist on several levels.
Bill Gates, founder of Microsoft when asked about his incredible success, couldn’t have said it better “Unlike television, real people have to leave the coffee shop and go to work.” Noted, sir!
THE MEETING
Okay, ordinarily i would not do fiction,cos am just plain lazy, but then i Was compelled to a few days back...here is one of them entries for a creative writers workshop i hope to attend...my very feeble attempt...enjoy,lemme knw wat u think
THE MEETING
I could not believe my eyes. I struggled to remain on my feet as the introductions flew past. Amaka kept chattering, totally oblivious of my discomfort. With a strained smile plastered on my face, I stretched out my hand to receive the hand Bode had extended. “I am pleased to meet you.” he offered. “Same here.” I replied.
He was playing it so well it was difficult not to remember what a good actor he was. Amaka led the way, holding Bode’s hand as she scouted for available seats. I tagged along, praying desperately for a chance to run away. To run very far from the silent drama that was taking place. I got an answer to my Prayer when Amaka’s voice jolted me, “Oh no, just two seats.” She announced regretfully.
I gave a sheepish smile and quickly said “Wow, I may have to get another seat,” Relieved, I continued, “You guys, it was wonderful seeing you.” Amaka leaned forward to hug me giving me a chance to observe Bode who was busy scanning the chairs. My eyes quickly slid through his profile, taking him in from head to toe. He was ever so tall and easily a head above the crowd. Back in the day he was skinnier, but right now he had added some weight. He definitely looked like someone who was not only well paid, but well taken care of. Amaka pulled back, shaking me out of my reverie.
Just as I was thinking how I was going to face Bode and bid him goodbye, a man stood up, leaving a space beside the two empty chairs and creating just one more space. Bode, looked hopeful as he asked, “Are you coming back?” “No, you can have the seat,” the man hurriedly replied and continued speaking on his phone as he dashed out of the venue. “You can sit here, there is a space.” Bode said, turning to me as our eyes locked. I did not respond, and so he repeated, this time his gaze softer, like he was begging with his eyes, “You can sit with us here. The man is not coming back.” He didn’t need to give me that lingering look to tell me to sit. I quickly looked away, nodding my head and mumbling something like “thanks”, fearing we might get noticed. Bode did not seem to care. He stared on.
We settled in with Amaka sitting between Bode and myself, for which I was very grateful. She looked so pretty and so happy. Her hair, dark and glossy, contrasted with her fair skin. She had always been pretty. As I looked at her, I tried to think up the many reasons why Bode would go for her. Why he would choose her. Pretty, not very intelligent, but sensible enough to carry on a conversation. She was the kind of person whose opinions would be what she heard from someone, but would go ahead to express them as something she originally thought out. She had always been someone who would get whatever she wanted from you before you knew it, one of the reasons we never got close. I had always thought her to be self-centred and she was definitely not Bode’s kind of girl. I had known Bode longer than I knew Amaka. Bode I met immediately after school, while Amaka and I became “friends” during my service year. How on earth did the two meet? And then get married?
Amaka, quite the chatter box did not seem to notice the glances Bode kept giving me for she continued quipping of what a long time it had been since we saw each other and how she looked forward to the show, after finally being able to drag her ‘very busy husband’ from his choked schedule.
I tried desperately hard to concentrate on the Compere as he introduced the next act on stage. I had looked forward to this “Night of a thousand laughs”. It was supposed to be my treat for working so hard throughout the month and I was not having a good time. My mind was on a journey of memories, not too good ones at that. Seeing Bode had totally ruffled me. Seeing Bode with Amaka was a double blow.
I was a combination of emotions; embarrassment, hurt, and pain and self-pity. All these crystallized into a simmering feeling. Unrecognizable at first, but as it grew, I knew what it was-anger. I became angry. Angry at Bode for just turning up, showing up when I least expected him. Remembering all the words he said when he had to leave the country to go study for his Masters, how he lacked the decency or courage to look me in the face and say it was over.
Then I was angry at Amaka for getting him, instead of me and for having the perfect life. They must have met abroad when Amaka was at the United Kingdom, studying for her Masters. She did not have to work a while like the rest of us because her dad readily sponsored her. Why did she have to live my dreams? During service, while the rest of us counted the days to when our “allowee” would drop, she never even bothered to check her youth service bank account until after service year. “I don’t need their money,” I remembered she said. She drove a jeep, a gift from her uncle, while the rest of us got our cars via company loan scheme years later.
She got a job with the biggest telecom company in the country, which she did not even have to write a test or sit an interview for. That was before she left for her Masters. On the other hand, I had attended countless tests and interviews to get the “perfect job”, until people told me that there was no such thing as the perfect job. But Amaka had and still has the perfect job. Presently, she worked with a multinational, a major player in the oil and Gas sector, and lastly, she had the perfect man. Or who I once felt, was the perfect man.
I looked up to the stage and the comedian, Baba GIDI one of the favourite acts of the night was on stage. The microphones did not seem to be working because there was no sound coming from the speaker although he was speaking. Someone ran up to him from backstage to give him another microphone, which did not seem to work still. The organisers could be seen running around. At that point, I felt exasperated. A hitch free show was so impossible in this country. My impatience grew as it took them longer than expected to get the microphones and speakers working.
The lines were definitely not falling in the right places that night. So much for a fantastic night, I took it as my cue to leave. I told my “friends” that I had to leave. Truth was that I needed to get away from that place, far away from the heat, the noise and people. I desperately needed to sort out the turmoil on my insides. I needed to get away. But I did not tell them that. I muttered something about not planning to stay for too long and how wonderful it was to see them. Just then, the mics began working and BabaGIDI continued his performance. Grateful for the distraction, I jumped up and found my way out of the hall.
Someone was calling my name behind me, but I was not ready for another “good to see you” speech, so I carried on, face set towards the exit. The evening breeze caressed my face as I stepped outside breathing in fresh gulps of air. I walked towards my car. I had parked outside the parking lot because it was full by the time I got there. Other cars were parked outside and I had anticipated that by the time the show was over, we would all walk to our cars. But I left the show earlier and only as I walked towards my car did I realise how far from the venue my car was parked.
I searched my bag for my keys. I could hear its jiggle in my bag but could not quite reach it, so I brought out my phone to use its light to locate the keys. I finally got it out of the bag and made to open the car, when suddenly I realised I was not alone. I looked behind me and saw two young men, staring at me. They sure did not look like they were there to ask for a lift and my first instinct was to swiftly open the car and drive off, but I discarded the thought as quickly as it came. It was too late for any “Bond” move.
Their glazed eyes and cigarette-stinking breath spoke of men who may not be in their right senses, and I knew I had to be careful. One of them had his left hand in his pocket, and was fidgety. He kept looking around while the other one gave a sly smile, revealing brown stained teeth. I attempted to speak, “You can take the bag, this is my phone,” I said, handing over the phone to him before he even asked. He dropped the bag and stepped closer. “Who tell you say na phone we dey find?” He gruffly said, speaking for the first time. “If I wan collect anything, na your motor I go carry.” He continued.
“So wetin you want?” I asked, switching to pidgin, and smiling nervously, hoping it would make him feel like we were friends and probably have a conversation which could stall him. I looked around and there was no one in sight. I could hear loud cheers coming from the hall. Obviously, something exciting was taking place in there. Outside where I stood, was far from exciting.
My attacker moved very quickly towards me and I found myself pinned to the bonnet of the car. A scream escaped my throat and at this point, the second one brought out a knife and held it against my neck. My eyes widened at the sight of the glistening blade. “Please, please, take my car. I have money, plenty of money inside,” I offered in a shaky voice. I knew there was no “plenty of money” anywhere in the car, but I did not care. I was grasping at straws and trying anything that could work. But the gruffy voice would not be deterred as he laughed again, this time his breath close to my nostrils.
My entire body shook with fear as I cursed my fate, regretted parking that far, hated Bode and Amaka, for making me leave early and getting into that situation. As tears rolled down my cheeks, I begged God, wherever he was that if there was any time I needed a miracle, it was then. Forget when I needed a new job, or when I wanted a visa for my vacation. Forget my desperation for a husband, or even my aunt’s illness, the miracle I needed was to be delivered from these predators.
Just then a voice barked out “What is going on here?” The young men swung around, and surprisingly fled, leaving me disoriented. Coughing and crying at the same time, my shoulders shook as I tried to take in my surroundings.” I looked up at who it was God had sent to rescue me, and it was Bode.
For a few minutes, I completely forgot all the pain or hurt he reminded me of, settling in his strong, comforting arms, just glad to be safe. “It’s okay, they are gone,” he said. “It’s alright,” he continued, “you are safe now.” I just let him hold me as I recovered from the shock.
“How, what, how did you..?” finally finding my voice but still unable to get the words out. “Shhh,” he said. “Take it easy, okay?” “Just calm down,” he continued, smoothening my hair and holding me close. “I followed you out of the hall. I wanted to talk to you, I was calling your name but you were walking so fast I could not catch up with you,” he paused. “Actually, I had forgotten how fast you could walk.” He said with a smile.
His attempt at humour reminded me of how he used to playfully tease in the past when we were together, finally making me a little self conscious, so I disengaged myself from his embrace. “How did you manage to scare them?” I asked, still curious. Surely it was not his deep baritone or “Inspector Sledge Hammer” antics that got them scampering away. He reached into his pocket and brought out something. “I showed them this,” he said.
“A gun?” I asked, shifting further away.
“Yes,” he responded. “Actually,” he continued, smiling mischievously, “I’ll tell you a secret.” Leaning closer to my ear, he continued, “It’s a dummy.” We both looked at each other, and then started laughing.
THE MEETING
I could not believe my eyes. I struggled to remain on my feet as the introductions flew past. Amaka kept chattering, totally oblivious of my discomfort. With a strained smile plastered on my face, I stretched out my hand to receive the hand Bode had extended. “I am pleased to meet you.” he offered. “Same here.” I replied.
He was playing it so well it was difficult not to remember what a good actor he was. Amaka led the way, holding Bode’s hand as she scouted for available seats. I tagged along, praying desperately for a chance to run away. To run very far from the silent drama that was taking place. I got an answer to my Prayer when Amaka’s voice jolted me, “Oh no, just two seats.” She announced regretfully.
I gave a sheepish smile and quickly said “Wow, I may have to get another seat,” Relieved, I continued, “You guys, it was wonderful seeing you.” Amaka leaned forward to hug me giving me a chance to observe Bode who was busy scanning the chairs. My eyes quickly slid through his profile, taking him in from head to toe. He was ever so tall and easily a head above the crowd. Back in the day he was skinnier, but right now he had added some weight. He definitely looked like someone who was not only well paid, but well taken care of. Amaka pulled back, shaking me out of my reverie.
Just as I was thinking how I was going to face Bode and bid him goodbye, a man stood up, leaving a space beside the two empty chairs and creating just one more space. Bode, looked hopeful as he asked, “Are you coming back?” “No, you can have the seat,” the man hurriedly replied and continued speaking on his phone as he dashed out of the venue. “You can sit here, there is a space.” Bode said, turning to me as our eyes locked. I did not respond, and so he repeated, this time his gaze softer, like he was begging with his eyes, “You can sit with us here. The man is not coming back.” He didn’t need to give me that lingering look to tell me to sit. I quickly looked away, nodding my head and mumbling something like “thanks”, fearing we might get noticed. Bode did not seem to care. He stared on.
We settled in with Amaka sitting between Bode and myself, for which I was very grateful. She looked so pretty and so happy. Her hair, dark and glossy, contrasted with her fair skin. She had always been pretty. As I looked at her, I tried to think up the many reasons why Bode would go for her. Why he would choose her. Pretty, not very intelligent, but sensible enough to carry on a conversation. She was the kind of person whose opinions would be what she heard from someone, but would go ahead to express them as something she originally thought out. She had always been someone who would get whatever she wanted from you before you knew it, one of the reasons we never got close. I had always thought her to be self-centred and she was definitely not Bode’s kind of girl. I had known Bode longer than I knew Amaka. Bode I met immediately after school, while Amaka and I became “friends” during my service year. How on earth did the two meet? And then get married?
Amaka, quite the chatter box did not seem to notice the glances Bode kept giving me for she continued quipping of what a long time it had been since we saw each other and how she looked forward to the show, after finally being able to drag her ‘very busy husband’ from his choked schedule.
I tried desperately hard to concentrate on the Compere as he introduced the next act on stage. I had looked forward to this “Night of a thousand laughs”. It was supposed to be my treat for working so hard throughout the month and I was not having a good time. My mind was on a journey of memories, not too good ones at that. Seeing Bode had totally ruffled me. Seeing Bode with Amaka was a double blow.
I was a combination of emotions; embarrassment, hurt, and pain and self-pity. All these crystallized into a simmering feeling. Unrecognizable at first, but as it grew, I knew what it was-anger. I became angry. Angry at Bode for just turning up, showing up when I least expected him. Remembering all the words he said when he had to leave the country to go study for his Masters, how he lacked the decency or courage to look me in the face and say it was over.
Then I was angry at Amaka for getting him, instead of me and for having the perfect life. They must have met abroad when Amaka was at the United Kingdom, studying for her Masters. She did not have to work a while like the rest of us because her dad readily sponsored her. Why did she have to live my dreams? During service, while the rest of us counted the days to when our “allowee” would drop, she never even bothered to check her youth service bank account until after service year. “I don’t need their money,” I remembered she said. She drove a jeep, a gift from her uncle, while the rest of us got our cars via company loan scheme years later.
She got a job with the biggest telecom company in the country, which she did not even have to write a test or sit an interview for. That was before she left for her Masters. On the other hand, I had attended countless tests and interviews to get the “perfect job”, until people told me that there was no such thing as the perfect job. But Amaka had and still has the perfect job. Presently, she worked with a multinational, a major player in the oil and Gas sector, and lastly, she had the perfect man. Or who I once felt, was the perfect man.
I looked up to the stage and the comedian, Baba GIDI one of the favourite acts of the night was on stage. The microphones did not seem to be working because there was no sound coming from the speaker although he was speaking. Someone ran up to him from backstage to give him another microphone, which did not seem to work still. The organisers could be seen running around. At that point, I felt exasperated. A hitch free show was so impossible in this country. My impatience grew as it took them longer than expected to get the microphones and speakers working.
The lines were definitely not falling in the right places that night. So much for a fantastic night, I took it as my cue to leave. I told my “friends” that I had to leave. Truth was that I needed to get away from that place, far away from the heat, the noise and people. I desperately needed to sort out the turmoil on my insides. I needed to get away. But I did not tell them that. I muttered something about not planning to stay for too long and how wonderful it was to see them. Just then, the mics began working and BabaGIDI continued his performance. Grateful for the distraction, I jumped up and found my way out of the hall.
Someone was calling my name behind me, but I was not ready for another “good to see you” speech, so I carried on, face set towards the exit. The evening breeze caressed my face as I stepped outside breathing in fresh gulps of air. I walked towards my car. I had parked outside the parking lot because it was full by the time I got there. Other cars were parked outside and I had anticipated that by the time the show was over, we would all walk to our cars. But I left the show earlier and only as I walked towards my car did I realise how far from the venue my car was parked.
I searched my bag for my keys. I could hear its jiggle in my bag but could not quite reach it, so I brought out my phone to use its light to locate the keys. I finally got it out of the bag and made to open the car, when suddenly I realised I was not alone. I looked behind me and saw two young men, staring at me. They sure did not look like they were there to ask for a lift and my first instinct was to swiftly open the car and drive off, but I discarded the thought as quickly as it came. It was too late for any “Bond” move.
Their glazed eyes and cigarette-stinking breath spoke of men who may not be in their right senses, and I knew I had to be careful. One of them had his left hand in his pocket, and was fidgety. He kept looking around while the other one gave a sly smile, revealing brown stained teeth. I attempted to speak, “You can take the bag, this is my phone,” I said, handing over the phone to him before he even asked. He dropped the bag and stepped closer. “Who tell you say na phone we dey find?” He gruffly said, speaking for the first time. “If I wan collect anything, na your motor I go carry.” He continued.
“So wetin you want?” I asked, switching to pidgin, and smiling nervously, hoping it would make him feel like we were friends and probably have a conversation which could stall him. I looked around and there was no one in sight. I could hear loud cheers coming from the hall. Obviously, something exciting was taking place in there. Outside where I stood, was far from exciting.
My attacker moved very quickly towards me and I found myself pinned to the bonnet of the car. A scream escaped my throat and at this point, the second one brought out a knife and held it against my neck. My eyes widened at the sight of the glistening blade. “Please, please, take my car. I have money, plenty of money inside,” I offered in a shaky voice. I knew there was no “plenty of money” anywhere in the car, but I did not care. I was grasping at straws and trying anything that could work. But the gruffy voice would not be deterred as he laughed again, this time his breath close to my nostrils.
My entire body shook with fear as I cursed my fate, regretted parking that far, hated Bode and Amaka, for making me leave early and getting into that situation. As tears rolled down my cheeks, I begged God, wherever he was that if there was any time I needed a miracle, it was then. Forget when I needed a new job, or when I wanted a visa for my vacation. Forget my desperation for a husband, or even my aunt’s illness, the miracle I needed was to be delivered from these predators.
Just then a voice barked out “What is going on here?” The young men swung around, and surprisingly fled, leaving me disoriented. Coughing and crying at the same time, my shoulders shook as I tried to take in my surroundings.” I looked up at who it was God had sent to rescue me, and it was Bode.
For a few minutes, I completely forgot all the pain or hurt he reminded me of, settling in his strong, comforting arms, just glad to be safe. “It’s okay, they are gone,” he said. “It’s alright,” he continued, “you are safe now.” I just let him hold me as I recovered from the shock.
“How, what, how did you..?” finally finding my voice but still unable to get the words out. “Shhh,” he said. “Take it easy, okay?” “Just calm down,” he continued, smoothening my hair and holding me close. “I followed you out of the hall. I wanted to talk to you, I was calling your name but you were walking so fast I could not catch up with you,” he paused. “Actually, I had forgotten how fast you could walk.” He said with a smile.
His attempt at humour reminded me of how he used to playfully tease in the past when we were together, finally making me a little self conscious, so I disengaged myself from his embrace. “How did you manage to scare them?” I asked, still curious. Surely it was not his deep baritone or “Inspector Sledge Hammer” antics that got them scampering away. He reached into his pocket and brought out something. “I showed them this,” he said.
“A gun?” I asked, shifting further away.
“Yes,” he responded. “Actually,” he continued, smiling mischievously, “I’ll tell you a secret.” Leaning closer to my ear, he continued, “It’s a dummy.” We both looked at each other, and then started laughing.
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