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?


-----------------------------------------------
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
------------------------------------------------
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.

One Minute Remaining

i trudged wearily on, determined that a night which begun so beautifully wouldn't end on such a flat note. see, tonight made it 7 years since i first saw her. house fellowship held in my uncle's house where i was staying, Unibuja still a dream in the future. and no, she didn't look like a character from a dream. she looked like a housemaid- her blue dress speckled with gold flowers, her unmade hair just hanging messily from the cornrows on her head. nothing remarkable about her except that she refused to take coke so that it wouldn't make her black.

in a matter of weeks i was already smitten. i found every excuse to be with her- from coming to play with the dogs to helping her younger siblings with homework. there was this time my uncle didn't come home on time so i passed the time in her house. that was the first time i ate something she'd cooked- pounded yam and one unidentified soup. after eating i began discussing the cuisine of the middle belt- especially one okpehe soup that i found utterly revolting. i raved for 3 minutes while she watched in adoring silence (or so i thought) and when i stopped she went "P are you done? what did you just eat?" at that point i realised that i had just eaten the very soup that i had denounced!

well things weren't always rosy. there was the time her dad had a seizure  when he walked in on us making out on his couch. maybe he was clairvoyant from wherever he went and could not stomach this violation of his rules. and maybe it was just a sign he needed some time to relax from stressful work. but that memory was strong enough to prevent a repeat performance *facepalm*

officially we never dated. i think she had two boyfriends in between while i was tossed about like driftwood in a monsoon. and every time we met it became a forum to talk about the latest stories about love lives. mostly they were horror stories about what people had done to us and how we were the forgiving ones. lessons were learned over and over again. years slipped by, hearts grew colder, more rational- so much that reason became another escape from talking about us.

i grew less complacent as the days grew shorter...people getting married every Saturday. not just that, the gnawing ache of loneliness chewing up my insides every time i wanted to talk with someone and found myself with an empty room, phone book with 1000 contacts, bbm of 250 contacts yet no one to talk to. you see, Nkechi was a good listener. she could allow you whine and whine for 30 minutes...and while sympathising with you she would give solutions.

and that's how we got to this evening. i'd called her to talk about stuff cos we missed each other's cals and hadn't talked for 3 days. while i waited for the phone to ring, my mind was playing on repeat- "You know, P, you're the only person i could be myself with. and be 100% N.K" . when we spoke i talked to her about fears....ema and uche had done a great job convincing me that i never got anywhere with any girl because i had this morbid fear of rejection,  fear that she wouldn't be the perfect girl of my dreams, fear that any relationship wouldn't work.
i took my time telling Nkechi about the discussion and she, compassionate about it as usual told me "sorry darling but im gonna have to say it's your fault. you cant be running around starting fires through out university you told me about 5 girls who you liked at one point or the other. and from everything, YOU kept making rules you couldn't keep. you kept holding yourself back. you kept placing embargoes and i'm sure at least half of those girls actually liked you and were dying to tell you, but because you're the guy, they have to just shut up and hope for the best. stop living in fear- if you want something or someone you just have to take the risk! if you don't you'll grow up lonely because you refused to reach out. you may never find a girl with 100% on your list. in fact chances are if she actually scores 10/10, you may find that you d
want something extra!"

WOW. like she was reading my mind.

"so why don't you be my girlfriend then?"
"are you joking?'

i just kept shut and flashed back to the first time i ever admitted having feelings for her. the horror of hearing "the one" say you were joking!

"P...are you there? you're quiet!"

"yeah I Am. I just said what needed to be said"

"so you said ALL that to say that?"

"uhhhh...."

this is why i hate myself- the moments that courage and bluff are needed, they seem to fizzle away (and re-surface when i am to play the fearless blogger).

"anyway what was i saying P? you gotta reach out and take what you want. take the risk"

"so would you like to be my girlfriend now?"

"what?! are you listening to me at all P?"
"are you listening to me Nkechi?"
"seriously! I'm talking serious stuff here"
"I'm talking serious too. all the advice you're giving, why don't you be the guinea pig huh?"

"P...i learnt from the past. and every relationship good or bad was a lesson"

"so would you like to play teacher now?"
"what does that mean P?"
"why don't you be my girlfriend Nkechi?"

she giggled and protested that i was joking at a serious moment like this. well i walked her through the 7 years we'd been friends and had each other's backs. and inspiration flowed. pretty lame but for an overly timid boy it was a giant leap for mankind.

"it's been 7 years of running and hiding...'
"P you've gotta stop running' she said
"exactly. and every time I tried to talk about how i felt, you know- actually liking you a lot- you just laughed it off and it became more difficult to do that every time."

Nkechi started giggling again.

"what- is this funny? or you'd prefer a more traditional setting? movies and popcorn? and then deliver a giant teddybear and hide in your hedge then pop up suddenly to recite a Shakespearean sonnet on love?"

Nkechi giggled even louder. that tone was encouraging

***ONE MINUTE REMAINING***

Ahhh!!!!! MTN!!!" NOT NOW!!!!

"uhhh baby I'm running outta airtime. let me see if i can get some more outside"

"Oh p...that's so sad"

"what?"

"the one night i didn't sleep off on you and you pick today of all days to run out of credit"

"you almost sound like you enjoy that"

i desperately started searching for my shorts. airtime, NOW!

"yeah kinda. it feels good to know someone cares enough to hold me to sleep"

YOUR CALL CREDIT HAS BEEN EXHAUSTED AND YOUR CALL TERMINATED. PLEASE LOAD AN ALL IN ONE CARD

MTN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

even though i hate going out after dark, i suddenly found the courage to walk down the 0.6km to the nearest open shop...why they close so early no one knows. why they were detaining me needlessly in the name of searching for credit, no one knows. but by the time i got back i knew even a spirit could have fallen asleep waiting for me to call back.

tomorrow will be a better day.
happy anniversary Nkechi

Surviving Law School: Registration

Hello There

So you scaled through the final hurdles of the university, and you celebrated. Maybe you got drunk and bashed your mum's new car. Maybe the people in your village celebrated the first half-lawyer to come out of the community.

Then you had to endure the nail-biting wait for law school's posting. Sure you made some calls so that you'd be posted to Abuja or Lagos. And chances are, you were posted to Enugu, Bayelsa, Kano (ewooo!) And Yola. And you're devastated.

That's because you've heard all manner of things about law school- the lecturers eat human flesh, they come into the rooms to check if you have pirated books, they can send you out of class if your black socks have any designs on them. And such rubbish talk

And the pressure is high, because you know one or two smart, really smart people who had a first-class degree from your university....that failed law school or graduated with a pass. So you with your humble 2-1 or 2-2.........

--------------------------------------------
Oh stop it. The key to surviving the first week, is being alert at all times.

In my own time, the process of registration was tedious because you had to queue up at about 8 different tables. Now picture 876 students struggling perpetually! It took about 4 days for me to complete my registration because I left my school fees PIN printout...I felt it was useless since I'd already used it up and I had my online receipt. I wasted money going back and forth from bank to bank in Enugu. I ended up being number 247....meanwhile the guy who had REG number 001 was behind me on the queue. I have a friend who completed his registration on the first day!

I'm writing this to make your registration as painless as possible. Believe me- if you follow these steps you'd save time.
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1. TRAVEL LIGHT

Especially if you don't live in the city where your law school campus is. Ladies, you really won't need all those clothes you're stuffing your suitcases with. Except you can run in heels painlessly while dodging army tanks and raining bullets. You don't need to bring buckets, soapcases, bedsheets (except you really care what colour it is). You don't need heavy books, boots, pillows, pots, pans, kettles and all of that.

You can buy all you need at the shops. Or if you have time you can go to choice shopping malls in town later. For now, Just get your whites, blacks, suits, ties, shoes maybe and toiletteries.

2. ARRIVE EARLY

You will save yourself some trouble by arriving early. First, you become familiar with the surroundings and won't be as confused about where to go for what. Second, you can check the rooms and pick out the room you want to stay (based on facilities). If you're a guy and you were posted to Enugu campus, you can get the Blue-roof hostel. It's (allegedly) quiet, has a maximum of 3 room members and comes with reading tables and chairs. Everyday during registration, you will find that people arrive the venue as early as 5:30am to get a headstart. Well, you may want to do that :)

3. PHOTOCOPY EVERYTHING

Make sure you have all your documents ready. Registration can be quite frustrating if you have any of the vital documents missing! So spare yourself the stress. Just make sure you have at least 2 copies of:

A. Law school admission status (showing "full admission")
B. Online Receipt
C. Zenith Bank Teller for PIN purchase
D. PIN for school fees payment
E. University Statement of result
F. O level result
G. Your medical records
H. Your posting status
I. 12 passport photographs

The photographers will try to scam you into taking photos in your regulation attire. In my own time that turned out to be unnecessary- the school accepted normal passport photographs. HOWEVER, for your peace of mind (and to avoid paying for passports at twice the normal rate), just come with 12 passports in your regulation attire.

Keep extra pens, Use a folder/clear bag to hold your documents. Losing anything (especially your medical slip, receipts and Registration slip) will be fatal, I tell you.

4. PAY ATTENTION while filling documents. The staff are hot-blooded fellows who probably will not give you a replacement of any form, thus delaying your registration. And increasing your stress levels. So pay attention, avoid making mistakes. Sure, many of the forms are pointless (seeing your online application was very detailed), but then just bear with them and fill them out CAREFULLY. You seriously don't want to be in the middle of a session and receiving call notices to the Students Affairs office.

If you don't understand anything, ask questions. Some of the answers required may not be what you think. So just ask questions when you're not clear!

5. MAKE FRIENDS
Honestly, this is important. Even if you don't care about anyone, having friends will help you reduce your time wasted. Example? They can save you a space on the queue if you need to leave. They can inform you if the venue for something has changed (And believe me, it happens). They can wake you up if you oversleep, they can help you grab a snack if they're going to the market. Also, you can get a room together with people you can live with.

You wonder how you can live with someone who you never met before. Well, you survived 5 years of uni, you can do it again. And people's characters start showing pretty early so you can choose people you can tolerate and who can return the favour.

6. BE ORDERLY

Honestly, one of the reasons why registration takes long is because people are disorderly. Everyone is pushing, Cussing, dragging others back. All that shouting gets on people's nerves. Sometimes, the staff get angry and go away for a few minutes. You seriously don't want that happening! So be a gentleman, or pretend for now that you're one. Don't jump queues! It'll make you unnecessary enemies! And make life difficult.

Insist on queuing up and taking numbers. That way people can sit down, watch their space on the line and when it's their turn they might as well get up and get it all done with.

7. UNDERSTAND HOW QUEUES work.
Keep a space on every line. The logic is, there's no law that says you must be done with one stage of registration before moving to the next. So, you can take a space on each line. For example, while you're waiting for your receipt, you can keep your space on the queue on the line for collecting forms. Also you keep a space on the line for submitting medical records. And on the line for submitting the forms. And then on the line for collecting your REG Number. And on the line for getting accommodation.

Each line moves slower than the last one, so you most likely won't lose your space. Just keep checking on your queues (your friends would be really helpful at this point)

8. STAY HYDRATED.

Have water/lemonade on you at all times. The process IS stressful, so keep water on you, replace lost fluids. So that you won't become "that girl that fainted during registration". Neither do you want to fall sick needlessly!

9. HAVE FUN

Keep a novel on you, watch a movie or something (if that won't break your concentration). Just find something to pass the time with because the waiting process can be mind-numbing. They say time flies when you're having fun...and it IS true.

10. ALWAYS KEEP YOUR PHONE CHARGED.

And pray. Favour makes the difference at each stage- sometimes a staff member sees your face and decides that YOU should coordinate your colleagues. Or that you should help out. I don't need to tell you that your registration will be expedited. For example, I was behind #241 on the line, but the lady who became #242 helped the staffers and they moved her further up the line!.
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Was this helpful? Do let me know. I wish you all the best!

Umar Jawfu

 On 22nd April 2013, I was lying in my room in phase 3, Gwagwalada. I noticed a light creeping from side-to-side on my wall. It was coming through my open window. I climbed the water tower to investigate the light. It was a skybeamer and I could tell it was coming from the university compound. I followed the light like the wise men of the east. As I walked closer and closer, I started hearing sounds from beyond SUG- so pristine. I strained to hear better…and it was Hillsong's "Arise" playing. At first I was pissed that someone could be playing music so loud at that time of the night. As I drew nearer, I was confronted by a swirling mass of bodies, looking hypnotically at a giant electronic screen. And playing a bleeding solo was one black boy wearing a white t-shirt, on a red guitar (I think it was a fender stratocaster).

 I was thrilled that the organisers went the lengths of importing an American Rock band. I rocked along, silently ruing the fact that my chosen genre of music, rock, simply had no serious following; neither did it have any bands brave enough to try it. Our band (TheFlame) had just gone through the torturous process of choosing a name. I'd wanted to buy an electric guitar but I settled for a fridge (that turned out to be useless in the end. It still decorates my room) because it may be useless if the people did not like rock.

 While the band was doing their final song, I worked my way through the crowds (and shouting the lyrics to "superhero" as if I'd heard it before). I didn’t think it'd be so easy, but I got backstage and waited for them to get off. I identified my target- the guitarist. And I asked him questions- what pedals do you use…surprisingly he actually answered- took me onstage and showed me a yellow/orange pedal (I think it was a daphon).

  While we talked, I realised it was actually a Nigerian band from Jos (THREADSTONE). I collapsed to my knees in awe, and I ripped my jeans in the process *facepalm*. They invited me/the band to their hotel room the next morning. But before the night was over, a fireworks show started suddenly and I fell (to take cover) for the second time that evening. It was when I realised that I was the only one on the floor that I stood up. Till this day, those of the band that remember make a show of remembering who I am and then tease me about that night. That night, just when I was about giving up any hope of playing real rock, seeing TS on stage revived the dream. So if you ever watched us sing/enjoyed our band's company, you know who to thank!

 So we went to the hotel. While I was talking to Joseph, I was listening to someone playing the piano in the background. When I turned to see who was rehearsing, I saw that it was Umar playing a guitar like he had thirteen fingers. I played one of our songs and he helped out with a chord I was finding hard to build (I had the idea in my head). I was humbled and elated that someone so accomplished could come down to my level and teach!

So began my Threadstone Romance. I followed them on every possible platform, and lapped up every song they pushed out. Every time my band went out, we were bound to open the night with a TS song. In fact we were so excited that we forgot all about copyright that we uploaded a rehearsal of TS's "foolish" on reverbnation. Within days we shot up to #1 on the Abuja Rock charts, and #9 in Nigeria. Umar sharply pointed that out to me and I took it down :D

 I met them a couple of other times, each time shorter than the last but that didn’t really matter. I've had Umar on my bbm, and the whole time I've never heard him say anything vulgar or insensible. It's something that's put me on my toes because when people are in a position of influence, whatever they say count. Like during the Jos violence and the Boko Haram crises, I expressed so much anger over the issue…but seeing his own reaction I realised it was a classic case of grieving more than the bereaved.

  I've talked all manner of things with him- guitars, rock/metal bands, TS upcoming albums. In fact once there was this time I wanted to impress one girl and I asked him to help me make a video and mention her (she's a madder TS fan than most other people I know). Umar actually agreed and shot the video. I felt on top of the world! (and sadly it was too large to send via bbm but the effort was humbling!). Umar took the time to read a reasonable number of my blog posts and discussed about them. Like my posts on Ope, on the friendzone (he went ahead to share a few stories too). He once even referred me to a blogger that he felt was writing in a similar manner to me. That experience was once again humbling! To make matters "worse" he introduced me to the Berkely Music School, gave me advice about buying a good guitar/pedal. There was this time the members of the former David Crowder Band (now The Digital Age) started following me on twitter. I didn’t ask for a follow back, and the accounts were actually verified. To this day I accuse Umar of secretly orchestrating that move just to make my day (seeing Duncan Philips of Newsboys follows him). Blah blah blah 

   It's just sad that I haven't been able to do anything personally for him beyond infecting my friends with TS fever. I've enjoyed everything this chairman has done for me, and I hope this is a lesson to the world- that Stardom doesn’t automatically turn people into pigs; that Salt is only effective in the midst of the hot soup; and that life is a lot more fun when you approach it with a large dose of cheerfulness.

                                                     

  Before I spoil what is promising to be a good blog post, let me say the Happy Birthday Umar. Thanks for everything, and God bless you deeply.

Teaposh Akanni

Today is an odd day.

I'm celebrating a friend I met on facebook. That isn't much these days but it was in the early days of my online inner child learning to grow.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and everyday was a better smile. Everytime my phone rang, I silently hoped it was bestest calling. Why?

In the short time I got to know that there were other people asking the same questions I was. There were other people seeking God out. There were times I had to take emergency calls...there were times I had to roll my eyes and listen patiently to a girl talk about a boy (believe me it's not as painless as we make it look).

I got to "meet" her friends- eunice, charity, Peter (who I later met in Law school), samson, Jayden, Ronald...most of who I've never seen in person. But in common, they were talented people- writers, dancers, singers and actors.

She's given me links to great songs. To those whose ears I've worn sore singing "Allegiance" produced by CK...well, blame her!

We've been broke together, rich together...she's given me quality advice as I love to think I've given her too. I've heard her sing on the phone, and her song "I am Yours". She told me- "when I'm done you'll be the first to hear it". I felt awesome! And well I tracked the song from the instrumentals till the voicing. That song was deep- I know I'll be singing it for a long time.

I can't write much of the experiences because with her I learned confidentiality. And accountability too. But I've secretly been practising the Big-bro part.

Talent is never an excuse to live a careless life. Hearty cheers to people with talent and brains.

Happy Birthday Teniola
Bestest Loves you ;)

Ojurere Gommy

If you want to survive the Nigerian Education System, you need more than personal resilience, hard work, diligence and determination. You need more than the extra mile we’re so often encouraged to go. You need more than money and a comfortable crib. You need friends.

And God really did bless me I found people like me- imperfect, but thirsty for more. People talented in everything. I had Ken Ogueji who was is awesome bassist, Ope Owotumi the amazing songwriter, Valentine Nwakamma, the wickedest Tenor I personally know. There’s Tolu Ogunrinde the comic keyboardist, Elijah Akefe the silent academic, Michael the star singer, Ugochi Mbakwe (of blessed memory) the cook who made me enjoy Egusi for almost the first time in my life. Almost every week, I have a great person to celebrate. And this week, It is Grateful Ojurere Gommy Itiowe.

Grateful Itiowe is…a mother. That’s funny to say about someone who’s younger than you. Grateful literally mothered us throughout school. The times when we were broke, grateful would lend you money that you probably would never pay back. I remember keeping the tab in my brain (I owed her about 9, 700 naira) until I liquidated it this year.

And grateful was a cook. I have talked about the eba incident, when me, ope and a third person (everyone now says it wasn’t valentine so it has to be Michael) were hungry after lectures. When Grateful said “wait for me, I’m coming” we thought she was being sarcastic, but about an hour later she called and said “come and collect it at SUG”. When she gave us the bag, we were wondering what it was she cooked. When we opened the flask, behold it was okro soup (my personal favourite). That okro soup was filled with several “obstacles” like kpomo chopped into it just the way I like it these days. Maybe it’s my imagination but there was dried fish and stock fish. The eba was heavenly: till today that was my best eba EVER. I pestered her till she taught me how it was done (she soaked the garri in hot water so it ended up very soft and TASTY).

Grateful was always the convener of LGC meetings- even if we were only 2 grateful was the constant attendee. All those evenings when we would sit in love garden- study, sing, talk, buy kush-and-dush. I’m sure I cannot count how much of Mama-G’s money went in.

Perhaps I should stop talking so much about food. Grateful was a leader, forever carrying people’s burdens on her shoulder. From morning till night grateful would be in a meeting or the other, talk with someone or the other. She served in her fellowship’s executive committee, and she helped other fellowships when they had problems. She was a wonderful decorator- she founded and runs Crystal Ventures and they do such good work. She started a prayer meeting for ladies, well I never attended for obvious reasons. Okay, well there was THAT once when they needed instrumentalists and I had to attend. Oh did I mention she plays the drums too? Every time our band went on stage, now that I think of it- grateful WAS there! That’s an amazing record, because I know closer friends who weren’t that fortunate :D

There were so many things that happened and I learned from grateful. There was the time we were walking from Aluta gate to SUG and at a dark spot, a drunk guy walked up and started talking trash. She told him off but she was pissed at me- “Peter are you really gonna just stand there and do NOTHING?” when I protested that he was bigger than me, she said “I'm a lady. even if you can't do anything, it’d be more comforting to know you’re there for me. And it’d make the guy think twice about doing anything stupid”. Well then, I learned THAT- make some noise even if you cannot do anything.

Grateful was resourceful- any event you’re planning you could put it in her hands and go to sleep knowing that it’d be done. And she did deliver when I was planning a small party for my birthday- I gave her money to make peppered meat kebabs. She and ugochi turned up later with meat kebabs, eba and egusi to feed 40 people. And after the event, we chatted while cleaning up the apartment!

The story didn’t end there- I had the singular opportunity to buy her lunch while we were filling out our registrations. It was a great time to talk without the stress of lectures, meetings and all that we experienced as undergraduates. It was then I began to notice other things I never took notice of- like she looked beautiful when she smiled; and that her corporate dressing would sell in the outside world.

And those times when I was suffering from a violent crush on a certain pretty somebody from Kogi- grateful gave me advice that I wish I listened to on time. She told me I was different from other boys on campus, and I did not need a girlfriend to validate my awesomeness. But my heart had slipped far enough and I proceeded on a disastrous joyride. I’m older, I’m wiser and I’m a better man because I (eventually) listened.

Grateful was a source of encouragement and if you know her, I need not mention more. But there was the very rare time that she needed encouragement. While I was celebrating my mum’s birthday, I received a text that grateful lost her mum and sister. It was a dark period and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything so I just sent a text. I called later and I was surprised at how calm she sounded. She held herself together and was even comforting ME!

Now, the storms have calmed. I was opportune to spend about a week with her this year. I’ve played the bass at her church for a weekend (and I got to meet the legendary Voice of The Cross. I even played with them and I was ecstatic to see myself on TV!). I got to meet her wonderful family- Gladden of the adorable curiosity (reminds me of myself when I was her age), and goodness the sweet, quiet one. Tolu and I crashed at her place whenever we needed a place in Enugu (I think I have a room to myself in that house these days). 

One day when I’d stayed for 3 days on end (with Tolu Ogunrinde), I asked “how come we don’t feel like leaving?” and mamaG told us “this is HOME. You’re supposed to want to be here all the time”. That whole weekend mamaG had been so busy she didn’t notice Tolu and I much- working from 5am to 1am! She had to step into the mother role in assisting her dad to plan their church’s 17^th Anniversary/Dedication.

Academics? Grateful although a very busy person often pulled all-nighters. In FCS secretariat, I’d often leave her there especially towards exams. And God was faithful to her- she’d call us and tell us where to read from and you could be sure that it WOULD come out in the exams. Even during our externship, I remember we squeezed time between the busy schedules to practice MCQs (forcing her to read aloud so she wouldn’t doze off).

In everything she did you’d see Diligence, resilience, hardwork and the extra mile. In one person! I'm sure I didn't adequately capture all the moments I hoped to (I’ve been planning this piece since June), but if you've met grateful you can tell that she is a woman of value. A virtuous woman who I’d recommend to any man of equal substance. I know she will continue to shine and shine, till the picture God had in mind when he made her, is perfectly formed.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY OJURERE

Oya kneel down let us pray for you!

PS:

Curiously, grateful’s been sporting a new smile these days; now she has some hush-hush conversation with a contact named “sweet heart”. And she’s promised that if I come to Enugu for this year’s conference she may tell me who it is.

I’m so going to be in Enugu!