Cobwebs

First of all, this is an apology.

I've been away. I have failed to waste at least 20 minutes of your life every other week as you stumble through the dark mazes of my crazy mind. The birthdays have slipped by and weirdly I could not write anything.  I think mostly it's because I've been so concerned about work that every other thing seems to pale into insignificance. Blah blah blah.

I just blame work, the traffic every morning and evening at the city gate...and the total exhaustion that kicks in the moment I enter my house. By the way have you ever noticed that hunger multiplies the moment you see your door? Or that the urge to pee doubles when you're fumbling with your house keys?so, back to the story. I have to leave early and return late. Which means I don't have time to cook or do my laundry except really Delicate clothing. So yes, I basically stuff my face with bread, noodles, suya,  watermelon and anything that makes itself available on my way back from work.

I've always said that when a person is concerned with securing the daily necessities,  he or she cannot free up the mind for creative work.even if the creative work is satirical or mocking, it would take a pause , a looking back, an introspective look at things to produce anything. So I found myself stuck in this zone where ideas keep flowing while I confront the drudgery of work, traffic and boring food. And because those other things are more pressing, writing takes a backburner.

**yawwnn** okay my brain is shutting down with sleep. Let's talk about this tomorrow

The Sleepwalkers 2

One thing about dreams I noticed, is that I seem to jump in right in the middle of something. The fact that I was not there when the dream started is irrelevant, because as soon as I enter, I KNOW everything that has happened, and the current situation of things. It’s like when I play CALL OF DUTY, BROTHERS IN ARMS, GTA, MERCENARY, HALO or any other RPG and I resume from a checkpoint- with all my health, ammo and communications gear intact. In the dream, nothing is impossible. In the dreamworld, someone can be your father one moment and become your grandson the next. Or you can enter a house in New York and the backdoor opens in Port Harcourt.

In a dream, some unknown benefactor hands you game-changing weapons (I’m talking about my own experiences now), just at the right time when the bad guy has almost won. In a dream, you KNOW what to do to escape and that knowledge waits till the nick of time to show up. In a dream, people don’t need to talk before you hear- you just KNOW what they’re thinking. In a dream you don’t really have to cook, because someone somewhere would have prepared a magnificent feast and all you have to do is eat. And you don’t really need to wash anything except your wicked stepmother doesn’t allow you use the magical washing machine. In a dream you don’t really have to do anything when you meet a pretty girl, because she will see directly into the goodness of your heart and she will fall in love with you thus obviating the need for you to actually be awesome.

In a dream, you have superpowers to save the world- Batman, Spiderman, Superman and the whole Justice League and Avengers live together in YOUR Lunar Academy for Superheroes. In a dream, you can solve the world’s hunger problems by feeding them from the magic beanstalk in your backyard. In a dream, you can solve the middleast crises by calling their leaders and have them decide by playing Dance-Dance Revolution on Xbox. In a dream, people don’t need jobs because everybody is rich and can afford the nicest cars.

Because a dreamworld is so engaging, some dreamers turn somnambulistic. I remember coming across that word, when I was 13, in Reuben Abati’s editorial on the Kidnap of Governor Chris Ngige of Anambra state (Nigeria). In English, it means “sleepwalking”. Sleepwalking means just that- walking when you’re asleep. The sleeper has full control over his limbic system- he can walk without stumbling, sometimes without bumping into objects. If you were to observe a sleepwalker, you would think (s)he was going somewhere purposefully. For some people, in their sleep they write the most amazing things. In their sleep, they actually sing. A few of the songs I’ve written came while I was in that swampy zone between sleep and wakefulness! And some people are so good in their sleep, they will find the keys to the door/safe no matter where you hide them, and take whatever their subconscious wants.

In Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” such an experience is documented. Lucy Westenra started sleepwalking after she was bitten by Count Dracula (He had that habit as a human). She would walk out of the house, and even climb a ledge like she was going to jump.

Lady Macbeth in William Shakespeare’s “Macbeth” has bouts of sleepwalking, where she attempts to wash the stain of the murder she and Macbeth have planned and committed…lamenting that “all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this damned spot”.

And my younger brother’s sleepwalking when he was about 9 was just eerie. He would wake up, say something, stand up from the bed, and start walking towards the door. I somehow managed to wake up at the right time, and stop him. Once I looked at his face…his eyes were wide open yet he was truly asleep! I waved my hands in front of his face- he didn’t even blink at all!

For some people it goes beyond just walking. They talk in their sleep, they even drive. When I was in law school I read this case about a man who drove to his father-in-law’s house, collected his shotgun and shot him twice; the court really believed him that he did all that while he was asleep (if you want to follow this up, read “Weird Cases”- By Gary Slapper). I know of some people that would leave the house and wander about at night…in the morning they’d find themselves back in bed, waking up tired and very dirty (but they are not aware that they have gone out).

My friend Ken Ogueji is one of the best bassists I know. When we were studying law at the University of Abuja, I heard that he always slept with a bass guitar beside him. His roommates said he would reach for the guitar and start playing in his sleep. I asked him one day whether he knew about that and he told me of how it all began- when he was still just learning the bass he had this dream about an alternative position for playing the Lydian mode of the diatonic scale. When he woke up, he tried it and he was correct! How’s that for a superhuman ability?

Oh, and in 2008 or so my high school classmates told me of how I used to sleep talk and call a certain girl’s name in my sleep. This sleeptalking was as far back as 2005. And I’m quite sure that I didn’t REALLY like her that much, but I guess the subconscious had its way of fighting back.

Annoying little machine, the mind.

The Sleepwalkers

I love sleep. I think most of the normal people on the planet love sleep too.

When we were younger we were taught that growing children need at least 8 hours of sleep and adults needed 5. For that reason, once NTA started playing their news sting (an annoying hornlike sound), our parents sent us to bed. Sleep, according to scientists help the body to recover from stress. When we are asleep, our metabolism slows down and the body can refresh itself…think of it as energy-saving mode on electronic devices. Sleep also helps us to escape from the harsh realities of life, as when we are asleep; we are suspended in blissful ignorance of the world around us.

If we sleep deep enough, we enter what scientists call REM sleep (Rapid Eye Movement). In this zone, we sleep deep enough for our brains to conjure up images from our daytime activities. This phenomenon is known as dreaming.

A dream technically is not real. You cannot touch it, you cannot share it, you cannot record it, you cannot measure it, so to the existential/realist thinker, a dream simply does not exist. A dream is not predictable- and it can occur many times. More often than not, the dreamer is the source of his own dreams- her thoughts, his hopes, their fears, their secrets have a way of weaving themselves. Repressed memories and thoughts find their way back from the inner recesses of the subconscious to the only place where they will encounter the individual.

For some, this is a benefit: the individual often finds himself in places he cannot ordinarily go, doing things that ordinarily would be impossible. I usually have these dreams that of flying. Not flying as a bird, but the atmosphere is so thin that there is little friction, and gravity is weak. Thus I can practice my kung fu kicks, cover short distances in a single bound, and do all manner of amazing flips and moves that would make a gymnast envious. Some people (like me) have dreams that they were the president of the country, or they won the Miss World pageant, or that they invented something spectacular. Some dream they were getting married, or they had twins, or they were astronauts. The list is endless.

For others, dreaming is a feature they’d rather turn off. Their dreams provide no respite from the world. They have nightmares, nightmares of falling down an unending hole, being chased by frightening creatures (and they can’t run no matter how hard they try), being in the middle of a war, getting shot in the heart, being stabbed, being burned alive, their bosses sacking them suddenly, going naked to the office, their girlfriends getting pregnant with triplets, being in a horrible car accident, being chased by sharks/cobras/assassins…I’m sure you get the drift.

Dreams also feature prominently on the supernatural scene. Many religions document experiences where God communicated with man through dreams- either by an Angel appearing to the dreamer, or the dreamer himself was participating in activities. In the Bible, God spoke to Joseph about his future through dreams. God showed Pharaoh the Agricultural and Climatic future of Egypt. God spoke to Solomon in a dream when he offered sacrifices upon his coronation. God spoke to Nebuchadnezzar through dreams, about the future kingdoms of the world. God showed Daniel the End of the world through a dream. God assured Joseph the father of Jesus about marrying Mary. God warned the magi in a dream not to return to Herod. God warned Joseph to leave Israel and when to return. The night before the battle of the Milvian Bridge, In a dream, emperor Constantine saw the cross in a dream, and a voice he was instructed  to "delineate the heavenly sign on the shields of his soldiers", because  "in hoc signo vinces” (“in this sign you shall conquer”). He obeyed and he got victory.

Apparently, dreams are a window to deeper things. Dreams certainly come true. I have met people who shared their dreams and sometime later the dreams come to pass. This year I had a dream that actually happened within a few hours. I was sharing the dream with a classmate when it happened before our eyes. Once a friend told me that he had a dream our auditorium caught fire. We prayed about it, and some days later we were in a lecture when the junction box caught on fire. It took the bravery of Belema Fyneface to put it out, admist the cheering of the crowd that previously sought to discourage him from such a risk.

For those whose dreams are beautiful, they can’t wait till night so they can sleep. And for those whose dreams are turbulent, stay-awake-pills are being invented too slowly.

You can’t dream without sleeping.

Olori

I will be shot if I do not make this post before midnight
This is the first time I will post about one of the Law School People. And this person is Oyinkansola Zainab Aina.
The first time I met her I was walking to the Oji-ukwu market with Belema, when I saw a group of people that had just arrived from a long journey. I stopped. Said hello, welcomed them all, found out they were from Lagos State University (LASU). Folabi Kuti, Zainab Zakare, Oyinkan, Biodun, and the rest of them.  Kuti had this yellow jersey on.

A tiny girl caught my attention- partly because she was tiny, but more importantly because she was pretty. And trust me, I took a little extra time to tease them and speak my “Yoruba” (my vocabulary is about 5 phrases). Belema even went the extra mile of sending her a preaching by Bishop Abioye on marriage and we went on.

That Sunday, Bukola Atobatele invited me to play the Bass at Chapel of Hope. I accepted because I WAS looking for another church to attend in Agbani, and a friend from home had bragged about me to Bukky. And while I enjoyed the playing, I decided that I would NEVER return to chapel of hope. Because I was so distracted with the girls face- flowing hair, fitting purple gown and deep red lipstick. I remember THAT but not what Pastor Gabriel talked about that day.

So I hid for a long time, and exercised my inner Ninja. I advised myself to face my studies and concentrate. I reaffirmed my resolution that there would be NO girlfriends in law school. And actually, I succeeded- I even totally forgot that such a girl existed. We went about a whole 2 months before I saw her again. By this time I was already a full ninja and her beauty did not dazzle me anymore (I was already being dazzled by someone more powerful :D)

Because of Onowe Ajulo , I started saying Hi again, sometimes I even took a walk to the house of lords to chat a little during tea break. Yes, we had tea break. 15 minutes between each half of lectures. There was this morning she came over to our seat and she met me just about to consume my morning consignment (I had an Amstel Malta and gala). She asked me for it really joking and I don’t know how that happens- but I gave it to her anyway. And that’s how we started talking, like TALKING. That was when she told me she was from a Muslim family, and they didn’t react too kindly to her conversion from Islam. I respected her a lot more (well, if you judged from her size you wouldn’t think she had the capacity to resist anyone :D)
Unfortunately, this was just the week before we went home for the externship (court and chamber attachment). And strangely, we talked about some pretty personal stuff- I talked with her about Lanre and she told me about…well she just listened and told me a few things like “give it time”. A few times I’d call her and talk , a few times she’d call me and talk. There were the times when I needed to slip something quick to Lanre, and she was very helpful. Fortunately they were both in the same courthouse and the same Law Firm. The times when Lanre was out of a phone (or didn’t want to talk to me, lol), I’d call with Oyinkan’s phone. I remember having Oyin hunt for a birthday gift since I couldn’t make it to Lagos in time for June 21st.

When we came back to school, we worked nights to make sure we had our portfolios ready for the assessment. I had the speed when it came to typing- but she already had a template of what and what needed to be ready for Monday. Me, Lanre and Oyin went to the hall. In that back breaking pain of the Old Auditorium seats, we toiled for hours until the presentations were up to professional standards.

And those days of waiting for Moot trials. I’m beginning to think that’s when I got to know Oyin. Behind all that smiling, all that confidence- there could be times of sadness too. And there were times when I felt she was getting too deep into my business. By the time I ran over her actions (and planned my counter), I saw that she was actually right. There were the times I needed to go out of school for a hot meal, when the restaurants were closed, and she’d walk me all the way to law school junction. Sometimes I could talk her into trying my noodles combination- other times she’d just be content to watch me eat and talk endlessly about whatever idea had found its way into my head.

When Moot trials started, I began to see more of her everyday (we were in the same group). It didn’t matter that we were opposing counsel; At a I imagined a “conflict of interest” scenario if this was REALLY Equity Chambers defending John Brown & Miss Pretty Bright, against the Ministry of Justice. It was the hours away  from Moot Trials that held the most. That was when she told me about Mallam and the phenomenon that he was. And that was when she told me about life at LASU. She was still as fiery in opposing our bail application in court, making sure to point out to the judge that our Miss Pretty Bright who allegedly was suffering from Sickle Cell Anaemia was very fleshy and healthy-looking.

With exams approaching it was hard not to get infected. Oyin’s reading schedule was mindblowing. Morning, afternoon and Night. She told me she wasn’t gonna read anything beyond 9pm and she meant that. So what I did was, whenever I wasn’t reading beyond 9pm I’d make sure we discussed some topic or the other. I always carried past questions with me because I was sure to meet her somewhere. You see, Oyin is a good teacher. I’d read the Fundamental Rights Enforcement Procedure over and over again, but I didn’t make heads or tails of it (I couldn’t tell how many processes needed to be drafted if you commence by originating motion). In less than ten minutes this genius explained it…and I never forgot!

At some point I began asking myself if I wasn’t looking for trouble hanging out with her so much (when there was a more powerful somebody holding my attention down). After rigorous testing I realised that Oyin had become the younger sister I never had. And I began to treat her as such. During the exams week, people everywhere got hungry frequently, and cafeterias were always crowded. Because it rained so much, I wouldn’t let her leave the hostel if she could help it. I’d place her order whenever I went to eat (and deliver it to her myself). And when I started following my mum’s orders to make sure I eat some fruit, well I followed “an apple a day” policy. I’d buy 3 apples- one for me, one for Lanre, one for Oyin (sometimes it was one for Kingson as well).

The final week of school was awesome- all the things we prayed for happened as we needed them. The exam questions turned out to be what we just revised, the weather never disturbed us…and even when we got tired there was always enough time to sleep, rest and be refreshed.

Last month was call to bar. It was amazing to see what 3 months out of school could do to a person’s face. She let me have her laptop for almost 2 weeks (I typed “the mob is a demon”) with that. She helped me get my collarette and Studs from Bwari during the thanksgiving. Sadly when I went to her house to return the laptop, someone slammed the taxi door and smashed my Tecno Phantom A+. Anybody else and i would have been more angry...but better on her account than on some Jezebel out there!

That’s enough of facts. Let us now direct the mind of this honourable court to the true character of Miss Oyinkan. She’s deeply fun to be with- smiles most of the time. Even when people are being rude or trying to be nasty she maintains that smile. And she’s not one to run away from work- from what I noticed she’d rather do today what she can do tomorrow. That went a long way…that willpower to work rubbed off on me especially when I was losing steam in my exams prep.

And she has a heart for God. Everything I saw her do had its root in God. She was in the prayer unit, and whenever the person on the schedule didn’t show up on time, she was almost the backup prayer leader. And she was very active in the drama unit. Once she played Barr Afolayan (“PROCEED TO THEE DOCCKKK!!!!!!!”). Even when we talked about boys (yes we did that), she always rooted the discussion in the will and the plan of God. She told me about 4 times “God is my father. It’s better to make mistakes in the presence of God. My father won’t let me go far in the wrong direction”.

Today happens to be her birthday, and because I don’t want to keep her up reading too long, I’ll stop here (but the rest of you can keep marvelling about how awesome she is). Watch out for a lawyer by the name Oyinkansola Zainab Aina. If God answers my prayer, that surname will change to T____S. Fill in the blanks, people

Happy Birthday, Sainobu Olori

Chogu Betty Ochai

PIf you're on my bbm you'd probably have heard a lot of noise about my sugarmummy. Today I get to tell you more about this woman.

In 200level (2008), We got new students in my Law faculty through the Direct Entry (DE) scheme. I've mentioned that several times on this blog- that several of the awesome people that have come to impact my life came with that set. Chogu was beautiful at first glance. No doubt about that. In fact being a hormonal teenager (I was 18 at the time) I was so awestruck that it took me almost 5 minutes to gather the courage to say hi. I was surprised you know- she actually answered me.  She said her name was Chogu, and yes I didn't notice her earlier because she was a transfer student.

On a normal day I should have forgotten what she said (due to my fascination) but it had the opposite effect- I actually remember it all. She went to Madonna University, she was from Kogi state, she had a sister in gwagz, and all that. I remember being surprised that she answered me at all- I was so sure that magazine-cover types didn't answer big headed boys like me.

Well, over the years I got to know Chogu better. Turns out she's my namesake actually (bet she didn't know that). Once she promised me and Ope spaghetti at the end of the semester (when we insisted that she was so slim she couldn't possibly know how to cook). With Chogu it was one laughable experience after another. Like when I returned from lectures every week with lipstick stains that never came off (and I'm sure there was no labial contact whatsoever)...or that time when she was supposed to present an award at the Law Dinner (but couldn't get in because of an annoying ticket scam). I remember when Chogu was taller than me. That was my most dramatic height gain ever. On the day of the dinner (Friday), Chogu was taller than me. By Monday when we were looking at the photos I noticed that I was taller. You should have seen my Cannibal victory dance that day!!!

I remember Chogu being dependable. If she gave her word she'd actually come through. Every time I invited her for an event (and she said she'd come) she actually came. I remember when I was drama coordinator for my fellowship- she told me she was at drama Night. I thought she was joshing- until she described what I wore, what I did on stage, what the stand-up comedian said....and that, my friends was amazing :)

How about fighting back? Oh yeah. Chogu was a fighter. She fought until she got the transfer she was looking for. Whether you accept it or not, waxing lachrymose (also known as "crying") is an acceptable fighting technique, practiced by women all over history. She pestered the Registrar and the Dean until they accepted her into the faculty. And when the Faculty Officer (as usual) made mistakes on her results, she fought until they were corrected. In fact I can say she graduated with a second-class (upper) because she fought the laziness of the examiners!

Maybe that's why she keeps getting posted to the North (Kano campus for law school) and (Adamawa state for NYSC). I didn't really think it was possible to change law school campuses but Chogu did!

So why the sugarmummy title? For me it started when I read one classified in a newspaper that read "looking for a beautiful, god fearing, hardworking, rich, young, caring woman to be a sugar mummy"- it was funny, but Chogu had it all :D

If you have Chogu on your team you WILL win. Whether it was elections or inter house sports (Chogu is a really amazing sprinter) , you'd be sure to win. She told me once of how people would drop out from any race once they knew she was participating!

Having someone like Chogu had its perks too- first it could wow any other girl and increase your Perceived awesomeness (yes, girls are attracted to guys with pretty friends); second once any girl hears "sugarmummy" she'd most likely give up when she knows it's a pretty lady.

that trick worked well...from Scorching to Tola. Turns out she's quite the strategist. I remember when in law school i went gaga over one girl like this ;) The most consistent thing Chogu told me was, "calm down, don't rush this. Give it time. Only time will tell whether this is for real". I'm glad I listened! (Sorry I can't be more detailed. Our Treaty has a non-disclosure clause)

Talk about connections. Because of Chogu I met Osahon Osaghede (another DE student, who shared experiences about how an Angel rescued her in 2008), and I met Onome Omonigho in law school (and she turned out to be a real boost to the CLASFON CHOIR). I remember running into Onome in Area 2 while waiting for our results in October. Through Chogu I read this blogpost about gratitude by Chima Mmeje (about 1 year ago)- I was so impressed I pestered her until she shared Chima's blackberry PIN. It wouldn't surprise you to know that Chogu was one of the people Chima was grateful for. And it wouldn't surprise you to know that Chima happens to be one of the few people that make me believe the BBM isn't useless after all.

Till date I've never heard a nasty comment from her. Sure, honest accounts of stuff that happened, but never anything hateful. I remember recently when I was talking about how Mandela was once a violent man, planning bombings and attacks- she gave me this sermon about how we should look beyond what people did in their past and look at what they have become NOW- Paul, St Augustine and many Pastors today who were once cultists, robbers and rapists.

On 1st November 2013 our law school results were released. I was so excited that I didn't sleep once I saw mine. I had breakfast at the Hilton with my Dad, hit the town that night at about 9pm with my cousins and later went to Chogu's. I'd say that's the latest  I've stayed out in Abuja since we graduated but it was worth it. We talked and talked, standing  in the chilly night air  for almost 2 hours- not minding that Uche and my cousins were getting more pissed every extra minute that I stayed laughing stupidly. In those two hours we got to gist all about the last one year and some general hopes for the future. I left there feeling pumped, encouraged and...high.

Just like old times.

I will most likely annoy you by telling more stories that have no bearing on this piece. But I will say this, that Beauty, Brains and humility can exist in the same body;That ambition does not mean you have to step all over people's heads; that with the right amount of persistence (and crying), you can achieve a lot; that true friendship still exists in today's selfish world.

Happy birthday Chogu

Oya that's enough. No eyeing of the sugar mummy

55 missed calls

“Objection My Lord! The Evidence Act 2011 in sections 78-85 expressly forbids counsel from asking my witnesses scandalous, vexatious and needlessly indecent questions. Asking a catholic priest what he would do if his girlfriend stopped picking his calls amounts to impugning his character!”

“Objection sustained!”

That was when I snapped back to reality. I was cross-examining Father Melvin who was in court to testify in the assault charges brought against Father Francis. I argued half-heartedly that I was taking this somewhere, that I could draw a nexus between the question and the real reason why a reverend Father would beat up nuns in the convent.

Sesi Hundeyin, Defence counsel looked at me with the uttermost confusion- what on earth had gotten into me? I didn’t even notice that the entire court had their attention on me. Surely I was not mad to deny my catholic faith in such a flagrant manner!

Just then, Justice F.J. Oniekoro declared he was going on a recess and ordered both counsel to meet him in chambers. Of course he gave me a dressing down before asking “this your sudden loss of concentration- what’s this about? Are you ill”?

“Your Lordship, that was just a slip. I am feeling very okay”
“that was NOT one slip. You have been asking objectionable questions. You didn’t even challenge Defence counsel on quoting the wrong sections of the evidence Act. You owe a serious duty to the State, The Court, and your client to prosecute this case with all diligence. Am I clear?” Justice Oniekoro said, and he dismissed us both. I wondered if he could not have done that more privately- but Rules are rules. A judge handling a matter cannot have any conference with a counsel in the absence of the opposing counsel.

As I packed my things off for the day- my wig and gown into the side pocket of my court bag. Always the side pockets- it keeps them straight even after you fold. Sesi tapped me from behind and said “bro you sure say everything dey fine?dis one wey you carry face like fit-and-proper for Enugu campus”

“omo you know as woman wahala dey be naa. Four days now madam never answer her phone” I replied, laughing silently at the complainants. You see, they cannot understand why the prosecutor and the Defence lawyer can be talking after bitterly attacking each other in court a few minutes ago. They must think I’m corruptly selling the case to the highest bidder. Sesi excused himself for a few minutes to answer a call from his partner Deyon- obviously some matter had come up and the client was insisting on Sesi.

“guy, just give it a break. You’re probably worrying too much about this.”

It seemed like a joke- but sesi’s phone started ringing again. It rang and in a few seconds he pulled it out of his jacket pocket- then he held up the phone for me to see who was calling.

NKECHI

We were both surprised because up till this morning I had been dialing nonstop. He kept nodding as he listened and said “yes…? Really? Are you serious? Well, yes…okay…I know…okay”

What the heck are they talking about?

“Sesi what are you talking about?”
“sorry bro, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I really can’t tell you what she said. As it stands I have just been retained as her lawyer. Rule 17 RPC”

Damn that useless Rule 17. He really couldn’t divulge whatever his client told him, even in court. Of course there are exceptions to the rule, but nowhere does it say “when your friend’s girlfriend isn’t picking his calls”. Sure, I understood, but not even the silent plea in my face could sway his decision. Sometimes I complain he has too much integrity.

Back at the office, I replaced the law reports I’d taken with me and made endorsements on the file jacket. Then I got myself some hot water from the dispenser, sipping slowly and deliberately looking straight ahead as I walked by Faith Adebo’s Office. Faith, our madam-at-the-top picked the first office and made sure she was glassed in- she could see everyone come and go. If she even saw that I noticed her, she would SURELY summon me into her office for a blow-by-blow account of everything that happened in court. Not today.

I sat tired at my desk, swiveling from side-to-side, feet on my desk just the way I hope to do it when I become the boss of this place. Practice makes perfect doesn’t it? At this rate I should be competing for world champion, swiveling division. And I turned it over. What on earth could I have done now? It’s only March, her birthday isn’t till September (so I’m sure I didn’t miss it). I’m sure it’s nothing to do with the monthly visitor she always mumbles about. I know I’m not due to see her till tomorrow, but what if she’s not home tomorrow? What if she doesn’t want to see me?

So I decide I’ll just dash over. I sped through the rotary at Area 1, past games village, past Sun City. It wasn’t until I got to Sunnyvale that I used my brakes, narrowly missing one of those tricycles that the city council felt are safer than Okada. Down the dusty off-road track that used to be tarred. Through the gates…the security guards don’t bother to check me today- they know me well enough (plus I give them 500 naira to buy a malt or two). Right to Northwall drive, past the Vale Mall, and then I parked at 49.

I knocked on the gate. Suddenly the window blinds in her living room slid open, and I saw her, face unmade in the early noon sun, green spaghetti top and white shorts. I wonder for a moment if she’d let me stand in the sun, suit and all. I didn’t wait long though- she opened the gate wordlessly and locked it behind me. She sent the dog off to his “room” and walked me through the back door into the kitchen and back into the dining area. The TV was stuck on CCTV.

We sat in silence, she not saying a word, and I too befuddled to start. Then the annoyance started building. That was it? You don’t pick my calls for four days and you see me for the first time after that stupid conference in Natick, Boston…and no hug
? no kiss? Not even a handshake? Real classy, babe. I feel so loved right now.

I pick up the guitar in the corner and start strumming softly, singing Asa’s “jailer”…Aminor, Cmajor, Dminor, Gmajor. I flashed back to how that song used to make her nice Amara smile no matter how sad she was (or angry). And then Nkechi Stopped me.

“can you just stop that?”
“Really? That’s the first thing you say to me?”
“P…I don’t know. Things are just…”
“hey, what do we do when the world turns crazy?”

She looked at me, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“we smile, and say ‘I’m superman!!!!”
“That’s my girl!”

Obviously she had something serious on her mind. Even the diamonds I gave her didn’t cheer her up like I’d expect. She just said “thanks P” and left them on the table. I tried to make small talk while she worked up whatever was in her mind. At some point she said

“P I’m gonna have to leave you soon. I have a friend coming over and we haven’t seen in 5 years”.

I was more pissed than ever, but trust my acting skills. Obviously the woman had something on her mind, and wouldn’t share until she was sure I couldn’t help out with anything. I definitely would not worsen that by displaying any annoyance. As I said my goodbyes and walked out the gates, I couldn’t help wondering whether I’d made a mistake. Everything my dad said about never going back to the same girl twice. So I left work early, went to her house and I got a very nasty package- no warm greetings, no explanations, no “hey, what can I offer you?” She didn’t even beg me to stay a few more minutes!

No wahala. There’s work tomorrow. I didn’t bother to microwave my dinner- I just ate the cold, peppery spaghetti. Dragged myself into the shower and washed the day’s sweat off my body. Just as I turned out the lights to sleep, my phone buzzed. Text message from Nkechi.

“P…I think I have a stalker. Been calling me 49 times since everyday. Always 49 missed calls. I’m scared, I don’t know what to do…”

No shit…You don’t know what to do? Why am I the lawyer boyfriend with a black belt in Kung Fu and 6-pack?

I angrily turned off my phone for the night.

The Mob is A Demon

The Mob is a demon.

It sucks people in- great and small, fat and thin, weak and strong. People just going about their normal lives, heading to work, market or school- even church. It controls them like puppets, pulling them in whatever direction it wants to go. Mobsters don’t need a valid reason for lynching anyone- all it needs is a voice louder than the others to follow.

The same crowd that welcomed Jesus to Jerusalem shouting “Hosanna to the Son of David” just 5 days later shouted “Crucify Him”. All they needed was a united voice to listen to- Anaias and Caiaphas provided that voice. And often, the mob does not consider the consequences of their action-  they only live in the moment. The mob in Jerusalem agreed for Barabbas, a convicted murderer to be released, in place of killing Jesus who had done no harm to anyone.

Everywhere I come across mob pictures or videos, I can’t help notice how variegated the crowd is. Young children watching as people are beaten and burned. Nursing mothers screaming “thief! Kill them!” at people young enough to be their sons. University students who assumedly should have acquired some decency throwing huge stones and flogging the “accused” with planks. And the whole crowd united in the thirst for blood.

No one is thinking of the nightmares the children will face. No one is thinking of what will happen if the police should arrive. All they can see in the “accused” is a chance to vent their anger and frustration at how insecure their lives are. That is why a 12 year old boy who steals noodles or bread because he is hungry will be beaten to death or burned alive, depending on how resilient his body is. The mob cannot reach the government in power and make them account for the trillions of naira being wasted every year on  useless trips, so they decide to pour out that anger on this little “thief”. They are sure it will deter others who have such useless plans.

No, they do not think they are overreacting. They do not think at all. And the consequences of taking someone’s life without giving them a fair chance to explain themselves…they damn. “His blood be upon us and upon our Children”, just like the crowd before Pilate. They do not reason that in a few years, that could be their children in the same position.

An incredible fury seizes the whole crowd, even those who are beginning to have doubts about what they are doing. In defending someone they don’t even know, they kill someone when they do not truly know what happened. And it is sad, because the “accused” beg for their lives, for a chance to prove their innocence, for a chance to even rest, for a last request…with their last breaths. Often times, the pictures and videos I see retain the frozen look of horror and pain, painted permanently on the youngster’s face.

The mob in a matter of minutes plays god, determining that the end of the road has come for their victim, that the destinies of the “accused” are unworthy of fulfillment; that the earth has neither the need for them nor the means to support them. The mob does not stop until blood has been spilled. This bloodthirst must be quenched, if not by the blood of the “accused”, then by the blood of any perceived sympathizers.

When that thirst has been quenched, the mob receives a massive shot of dopamine, euphoric at accomplishing their mission of fighting crime. The most macabre celebrations follow- decapitating the corpse of a murder unplanned, removing their genitalia, gleefully dragging the mutilated corpses down the streets as carrion hover  expectantly, the dogs lapping happily at the trail of blood that has pooled where the bodies lay.

And then the realization of what they have done begins to set in- consciences revive from drugged sleep, reason returns to the academics, pity returns to the mothers, horror visits the children. And the sheer gruesomeness of the killing begins to turn stomachs. The mob releases its captives to get on with their lives. They are suddenly rueful, thinking how that could have turned ugly. They hurry from the scene, lest their faces end up in the police parade. Their sleep is taken away, for they fear revenge. So this crowd of do-gooders who wanted to rid the society of evil…have become evil in themselves, and the mob spirit just laughs on and on like a mad witch, moving on to find its next victims.

The mob is a demon
________________________________________________________

Anywhere you find a mob gathering, just get out of there. Don't get caught in it. Don't try to break it up except you're sure you have enough force to do it.

And never attack an unarmed thief, whether he or she got caught red-handed, "let him who is without sin throw the first stone"- Jesus of Nazareth

The Almost Girlfriends

This has been a long time coming. When I was in 200 level, my neighbor Amelia came to my room to ask for a wrapper. And when I said I didn’t have one, she asked “then how do you cope when your girlfriend comes to visit?”. I calmly told her I didn’t have a girlfriend. Back then I didn’t understand what that had to do with having a wrapper, but I told her “well, when I have a girlfriend I’ll buy a very big wrapper and spread it outside for all to see”.

5 years later and I haven’t still bought that wrapper.

And it’s not because I didn’t try (or because I didn’t like the girls enough). There were just many things I had to learn about starting a relationship that things didn’t just work out. Maybe a young man or two can learn about life from me (see, I already feel very old).

Amelia
In my first year while I was house-hunting, the first 3 houses didn’t seem okay- the first one was still under construction and was quite a distance from school (plus I had seen the exact same house in a dream some months before I got into school), the second house had someone smoking weed in the compound as I was entering with my uncle (I didn’t notice because I’d never smelt weed before. It smelt like burning plastic). The third house was nice- it had tiles, 3 gates before my flat, a tall fence, an orange tree and a shared kitchen. Better still, it had Idoma people living it (the downside was it cost 120k ($1000 in those days). As I was about giving up, I saw an apparition- bea, sizeable, with soft ringing laughter. She had charming teeth and white eyes. And yes, her name was Amelia. My mind was made up- looked for all the ways to convince my uncle that I could stay there as the only guy in the compound.

I did everything I knew how to get her attention. I remember cooking some awesome egg-sauces (if you ever ate them, say amen!) I wrote her poetry, I got this t-shirt for her. At a point it began to look like she was noticing- she’d spend a few extra seconds in my room, and when I gave her the t-shirt, she wore it to my room and sat on the bed for a few minutes. I had this fantasy of a long kissing session but that never even came close to happening. The closest was on her birthday, 1st April every year. She’d moved to her friend (Ann’s) place and I had to walk about 300 metres. I got a pink gift bag, with lots of pink stuff in it (of course that’s how a 16 year old thinks he can catch a girl’s attention). I put a card in there. I remember writing something lame in the card like “I hope you pin this up and read it every day, cos it’s from me”. Now I want to kick myself for being so dumb, but “young and stupid” was my defence. When I was leaving her house she said

 “Peter, I like the way you treat women. You’re nice, caring and you know how to adore a lady. I wish you were JUST a little older”.

I hated that she was only 3 years older than me; I cursed being born so late…as if in rebellion the clouds gathered that night. It didn’t matter that she’d given me the longest hug ever, or that she looked particularly beautiful in that cream evening gown. I slept angry. Amelia got married in 2013, and is happily settled in her husband’s house

with Amelia, i learned to use the resources available to me. The gift of gab, a quick tongue (and my musical taste). You use what you have to achieve your goals.

OLA

Hmm, this is a hard one, and I’ll keep it short. It started from one of those silly arguments that never end. I first saw her in 2007 when we’d just started lectures. John Adewakun and I were walking from Convocation ground to Law Faculty when he stopped to greet her. She’d twisted her ankle and was limping, wearing something that looked like a cross between aerosoft and Kito sandals. The spark was there from the beginning… first a few hurried kisses (actually my first kiss ever). But the problem was that things went physical before we connected on an emotional, intellectual, spiritual level. And trying to work backwards was really hard. The fights got so much, I began having new friends, and after a while we just couldn’t be together. We always accused each other of being too proud to admit there was something between us (in retrospect it’s stupid to be looking for verbal confirmation when you already kissed). I really was mean to her (I think there was this pathological need to be in control, to have my personal space) and I think on more than one occasion I kicked her out of my house. She looked me in the eye and said “peter, one day you’ll look back at me and see that you were childish, and you’ll be sorry”.

With Ola, I learned that I must be careful with words. Many times we say one thing and people understand something different. In other cases we interpret what people say in the most negative light. I learned to choose the most transparent meanings possible...and yes, i get into far less fights these days.

SCORCHING

I call her scorching because of her friend Yemi (long story).

I think many of my friends already know this story…the deepest friendzone experience ever. When I met her, I immediately disliked her because I was sure she was rude to me. But then we ended up in the same choir and I saw her everyday. A friend liked her friend, and so I became his wingman and along the line I realized I actually liked Scorching. It took a whole year to recognize that, but I was hooked. And that’s where the mistake came from…she’d told me so much about how she always had friends who ALWAYS asked her out and when she said no they disappeared, losing her lots of good friends. So I determined in my heart that I wasn’t going to let that happen with me. I went as far as letting her know how I felt, and she admitted she felt the same way. Then I shot myself in the foot- I told her it would be better if we stayed friends. See, I was sure she understood exactly why I was doing that. It was until 2 days later that she realized I seriously wanted to be friends…and from then the colour changed. I saw the mistake soon and tried to reverse it, but it was too late. I was stuck in a friendship that smelt too much like hate- she wouldn't return my calls, reply text messages...I was sure I was doing everything right yet she still wouldn’t go out with me. In a short time I realized I was just being a milksop, and determined to let her go if she didn’t decide in my direction.

all the while she kept saying "we're friends, let's not spoil that". And i was crushed every time. But when i tried to give her the just-friends package she reacted badly...and it was a cycle of Friends-good friends-best friends-just friends...

Last year, I made a tough decision- I left Abuja for one month to cool my head. I decided I could no longer be trapped, and I needed to eject from this sinking ship with my dignity intact. So for a month I didn’t call her, didn’t text… nothing. I ignored the calls that she tried to place until I was sure I could take it. And when I returned to Abuja I realised I COULD do without her. We had an argument once...and she walked out on me for the first time in 3 years. That day i realised i was lucky to have ejected than to be trapped in such a cycle.

i didn't need too much convincing to accept my posting to Enugu Campus of Law school. i Immersed myself in the academic experience, shut out myself. Okay i apologise to all my friends who i locked out...especially 3rd floor people in Adam&Eve, but i couldn't expose myself so soon.

With Scorching, I learned a lot, probably the most. I learned how to be clear what I wanted, and to show that I was serious. It was with Scorching that I learned to emphasize who was THE girl in my life...my friends knew about it, even my parents. There was this time my Dad asked me after morning devotion- "Are you thinking of Getting Married?"
"Yes" I said
'who do you have in mind?" he asked
"it's my friend. Scorching"
"Scorching? where is she from?"
"Kogi state"

At this point my mum said "Oh, i thought it was gonna be Joy Sanni"

I went cold at that point. Guys be careful who you mention to your mothers... even if it's your best girl they WILL get ideas. Anyway from that day, I learned to emphasize Scorching- she was my wallpaper, password...i mean i was a deep sucker. Anytime she wanted my attention, i'd give it unfailing. I would even go all the way to her hostel to give her assignments i'd helped her type...i spent so much time at the girls hostel that the hostel guards started speaking Igala to me!

I also learned to take control. At first i was so eager to please that i took crap i wouldnt take from anyone else...i would apologise even when we knew she was wrong. I thought that was the righteous thing to do but I was burying myself deeper in the backyard of someone who didnt even love me. Funny- she only paid attention to me when she thought I was angry...so i had to throw tantrums every now and then. I had to get her angry sometimes because that was the only way to make her talk (the other alternative was to coax, beg, threaten for 5 hours on the phone). i learned to be patient if i wanted to get a girl to talk.

With Scorching, i stopped kissing people. i dont know why but i think it's bad luck for me...every time i kissed someone it happened that things ALWAYS turned sour between us. Yup, every time...Ola, Desola, Nkechi...everyone of them. So with scorching i decided i wouldn't try kissing unless we got married.It has helped oooo...that's all I'd say :D

Yes,we're still in touch. And yes, my Dad still teases me about her...in fact the aftershocks from that Almost girlfriend still rocks the building. I saw her this year..she looked particularly beautiful...we chatted for a while, laughed and everything...she asked who the new girl was, teased me about Nkechi on my wallpaper...we even argued about the best age difference between Me and Le Future Girlfriend...i dropped her off...and i realised that i'd truly gotten over her.what a feeling! (I think She still likes me. That's what FigTree said after Scorching got out of the car...."i think that girl likes you')

oh really?


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TOLA

i think there's a genetic attraction i have for Yoruba girls. They just like me for no good reason at all.

Are you done gagging?

In law school **gen gen*** i met this pretty girl. I was walking down the corridor of first floor when I met her standing with Tolu Adetomiwa... i was instantly caught...i was trying to say hello but i dont know how the first thing I said was "you're very pretty". i mentally kicked myself in the nuts...and physically i dont know how but my pitch dropped and I automatically entered my Awesome-Dude mode. by the time I was leaving she called out after a few seconds "I didnt get your name!"

Awesome!

days ran into each other and i saw more and more of her...we had combined lectures, and she saved me a seat beside her...every single thing she did or said sucked me deeper. Even Taye and Aisha (loyal subjects of My Kingdom) recognised this and Taye kept teasing me about it. By the 3rd day of sitting together i was already going mental...i couldn't concentrate in group meetings, and Civil Litigation started looking so difficult because she was dancing in my head. After due consultation with Tolu and Bunmi i decided to just enjoy the feeling,say nothing and go on.

but fate forced us to talk...i figured she preferred guys who were taller than she (a very tall order seeing im not even as tall as she is). And then i was younger by. just 11 months and 3 weeks difference! not even up to a year! But since we'd signed a friendlationship M.O.U witnessed by Adenitan and Shewa (yes im that much of a nerd) we'd discuss the possibility of taking things deeper AFTER exams.

Those artificial devices didnt work...they fueled the fires even more. The love grew maybe because in a sense it was forbidden. i loved the feeling of being actually loved by someone. Weirdly i started growing taller until we were almost the same height. And my facial hair started growing with renewed zeal :D

With her...i felt safe.i felt wanted (some people may wonder why that's important...but up to that point i was always after girls who didnt want anything to do with me :D). Tola sought advice on almost everything...and she actually listened. there were the endless phone calls where we said all sorts of things, made all sorts of plans, imagined all manner of scenarios together, and honestly that was the best part of law school!

She made it a point of duty to correct some of the silly things i still did..."Peter,NO GIRL will take this thing you just did"
"peter every girl needs to know she's #1 one in her guy's life'
"Peter enough of these past girls. trust me, when you have a girlfriend she'll never like to hear shalom, nkechi, taye, lanre, dumebi, debbie, bose, rekkiya. she wants you to be hers ALONE"
"you dont be 'the man' by giving orders, you be 'the man' by doing what she can't do for herself. step up, protect her. Every girl wants to be protected!"

The last one was one incident when we were at the airport trying to check in...they were gonna charge her for excess luggage and it would cost almost half the ticket...well she engaged the attendant in lively conversation and was bargaining the price down. honestly i though she had it under control and i simply continued listening to my music. Towards the end the guy said he would take 4k as the last price and then i offered to pay. we went to find an ATM and thw guy asked..."is this your boyfriend?"
"if he's my boyfriend would he have stood by and let me fight for myself?"

she was cross for a while but she eventually forgave me. From time to time she still blackmails me though ;) I redeemed myself by going with her the nwxt time she was gonna fly...and i did a damn good Job playing the Oga-in-charge role (didnt, Tola?)

There were no fights. I think this is the first Almost-Girlfriend that i didnt fight with. we always had a way of talking things through, and I admire that. But mehn, I learnt o

"you have to be sensitive, it's not everything a girl will tell you. You have to KNOW what to do before we even talk. So i watched her facial expressions keenly- I knew when she was hungry, sad, sick. I even learnt to calculate menstrual cycles (imagine His Royal Awesomeness learning that!)

there were the moments when the nights got colder and i almost kissed her. But there was always a reason to say no to that craving...Bad Luck remember? Oh and the other time we were on the Altar. That's just wrong (except it's a wedding ceremony)...Not to talk of the guilt i'm sure to feel after such an escapade (i always feel guilty after kissing people).

and so i learned how to not be too accessible, or too distant...how to know when to keep bugging her until she talked (or how to know when to just leave her alone). I learned that little surprises every now and then work better than a huge surprise occasionally. i learned that trust can be given just once and when you break it...you cant get it back. i learnt to be brave and speak my mind if I like someone. i learnt that if you tell a girl you're crushing on another girl, that other girl will hear it.

We didnt hook up eventually...she still didnt like the age difference and by then i had begun to see reason too...first the emotional intelligence of ladies usually grows faster than a guy's...so somehow you have to be ahead of them to even play on equal ground. And then as a guy you just need to be financially stable if you must sustain a woman in your life. And as at that time, me,a fresh graduate with no real job experience, no real money. And okay more brutally honest...ladies age a lot faster than men. And if im gonna spend the next 50 years with someone...

I saw Tola recently in Abuja. Tola is happily hooked up with someone who's older and taller (thank God!). And once again i have to wonder why i couldnt have been born a year earlier!

I must confess that I didnt give my all...i still had this fear of rejection...i was still haunted by the ghosts of (Almost) Girlfriends past. And i was biding my time, waiting for what would go wrong soon...but she positively disappointed my expectations.She broke down the walls i'd built over the years to protect myself...they were caving in on me and stopping me from growing.

That's the only Almost that i didnt split with in a violent manner...the one that did everything right... and for that i crown her Queen of The Almosts

-_--------------------------------------------------


i really want to thank everyone who said No to me, brutal or gentle...you made me doubt myself, and in doubting myself i looked deep inside and improved myself. I am older, stronger, wiser, quiter, TALLER, finer...i have worked hard and long and unfortunately some other girl will reap what YOU have sown. Like you all said, I will find that someone who loves me , and CAN live with me. Someone who can laugh and play and be mad about guitars and learn new stuff,someone whose hair, nails and eyea are natural and someone who is young enough to grow with me.



I'm looking for where to buy a very big wrapper. I'm leaving this club soon ;)

Listen to Shontelle's "Impossible". That's the mood song for this post
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
1. The names of some characters have been changed to protect their identities.
2. The photos used are in no way connected to the story. Special Thanks To Vivian Ovie-Whiskey and Ola Jesutomi for assisting.
3. Thanks to Laolu Oni for editing. Any errors you see are because of my stubborn decision to do exactly what I want ;)

Otondo

"dem go born mumu
Dem go born mumu
If corper marry corper dem go born mumu"

You have been selected to serve your country, and you are indeed lucky that you're mobilised because you could have been stuck at home like your colleagues trapped by the ASUU strike.

You arrive camp totally knackered after the long journey. Of course you don't really like the idea because there's no law that says you can't serve your country from your home. Unfortunately you have no one to influence your posting, or the person you trusted failed to deliver. To make matters worse you probably were posted Clear accross the country, to a camp in an unknown location!

You get to the gate and upon arrival the soldiers order you to carry your luggage and jog to the police station. You curse your luck because you brought enough clothes to dress the entire platoon. And as your neck caves under the weight you realise you made it.

Then you join the queues. Useless queues for everything, from collecting a number to collecting your second call-up number. If that's not enough, POINT2 will break even the finest gentlemen. You see, no one is patient or refined enough to wait their turn. People constantly jumping queues, pushing, sweating, cursing...the only consolation for the sexually deprived is that when there's a girl in front of you on the queue (or behind)...oh well, do the math!

I kept asking myself if all this was necessary. All the details required had already been submitted to our schools. All that was truly needed was for the officials to verify our credentials.

And the uniforms! Everything was extra large like they had queen lateefah in mind when they made them. The boots were usually oversized...not that it mattered to me (I have naturally big feet and even the biggest sizes were small for me).

The rooms were crowded! I counted over 30 bunks in a room with no fans, no sockets and No proper ventilation. The bunks were so jammed together that I couldn't walk straight between them (had to shuffle sideways). Of course the stench is palpable...! but after a while you get used to it.

Naturally you wonder how the toilets would look under the punishment of over 1000 men. You realise that it was a bad idea to check...they are overflowing with faeces, swarming with flies and breeding maggots. as your stomach heaves, you make a mental note not to give yourself a reason to ever get there again.

Just then the bugle sounds, and those who got there before you sing after it "your food is ready!" with Jesus Joy in your heart you proceed to the Kitchen, only to see that the meal is a dismal-looking beans mess sure to run your stomach. Remembering the toilet, you refuse to be the one who will "shot-putt". The Learned Gentleman, the Barrister will not engage in "environmental confusion".

By this time your feet are killing you- you've made countless trips to the hostel, spent money on useless little drinks and avoided people as much as you can.

As you drag yourself up the stairs, you are confronted with the shocking , disturbing sight of naked flesh, grown men with huge penises (you think the plural should be penii, after all the plural of radius is radii) dangling from bushy pelvises. The sheer the indignity of bathing outside and in the cold.

How on earth does this amount to serving the country?


The day ends with you dragging yourself into your creaking and shaking bunk, praying a collapsing bunk does not disturb your night any more than the sweltering heat will.

This is certainly not a gentleman's affair. Ajuwaya!

PS: the images used above are NOT all my creation.