Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Dame Shag-A-Lot

Once upon a time, I lived with 2 friends, Shaggy and Salir. Among us, we got quite a number of visitors , there was however a particular female I just couldn't stomach! First day I met her, her aura was just wrong, I couldnt quite place it but I didnt like her nor did I remember to hide it. Girl was pretty, nothing outta the ordinary but I just didnt like her. Then Shaggy started recounting tales about the girl, how she had absolutely no restrictions, didn't care who got hurt when she shagged. Would chase and do her friends' boyfriends, doesnt care if stuff is traced back to her or her folks etc etc -my reservation just got more fire. Shaggy confessed that he had refrained from even snuggling wit her as he was scared of her-for all he knew, she could be a 'winsh'. lol. Thus entered "Dame Shag-A-Lot".
One day I had just come in from work and was trying to take a nap. NEPA had done its thing. Heard a knocking on the other door and had opened the door before I realised it was Dame Shag-A-Lot. Her smile disappered when she saw me and she stammered when asking after the guys, her sudden anxiety made me wince and ask myself what grounds I had to loathe anyone. I asked her in and she blinked back in dis-belief. The boys had run down the rechargeable lamp as usual (there was no way I was going downstairs to put on the gen for her, no sir) so I lighted a couple of candles, did some small talk with her and resumed my nap.
Either she was scared of being alone in the dark or the candlelight was playing on her mood, Dame Shag-A-Lot asked me to play a board game with her. In line with my new resolution to work on my loathing of her person, I obliged. To my surprise, or maybe not, the name boldly printed on the board game in bold red letters was "SEX". I wanted to laugh and say 'a leopard never changes its spots, does it?'
The game is something like monopoly ( I think) and invloves you doing and issuing some dares from a stack of cards depending on where your dice roll lands you. Anyways, each time its my turn, I make it a point of duty to be properly boring and un-imaginative, when its her turn? liver no gree her do any extraneous thing...not with the stern look on my face. After about 20 mins, she exclaims that Shaggy and Salir are more fun when playing the game, I shrugged and suggested she waited for them, She apologised but we ended the game shortly
With the soft glow from the candles, the quiet from the rugged floor and upholstery, even I started feeling more and more relaxed. There was just the two of us in the room, and how do they say it? "one thing led to another..." and we talked about this and that. With little persuasion, she talked about herself and I did what i do best-listen.
She had been a regular girl, doing as she was bidded, nothing 'genz genz', minded her business, had an older boyfriend by whom she was deflowered. The were supposed to get married, but he went 'abroad' for a stint. They always talked on the phone for the first 6 months, Frequency dropped after that. He said the new plan is for her to come join him so He needed to start saving more money to sustain them both. Sounded good, she believed him...why not? Afterall, this was the guy whom she willingly gave her all to. Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, there were plenty clues which she didnot identify. She was a pretty naive girl, not schooled in the ways and workings of the world. By the second year, calls had degeneratd to once a month!!!
By end of the second year, no more calls. Still she hoped and believed. Then she heard he was in town. She was elated. It did not occur to her to wonder why he didnt inform her beforehand, why should she hear this from a 3rd party. She hurries home, prepares a light meal for him, does some makeup and heads to his parents' home. On the way, she's wondering what he looks like now, fantasized about how he had come back to make it all right, probably do the marriage rites. She had lived for this moment for2 years , now it was here and she felt like she was going mad from the mere tingling in her toes.
From afar, she heard drumming and sound of "feferity" coming from the compound she's headed to. She greeted a few people she knew on the street and didnt notice the look of surprise mixed with pity in their eyes. Someone stops her by the entrance to the compound, her man comes out to meet her, She runs to hug him and tell him how much she had missed him, he restrains her and asks her what she was doing there. She's bewildered...What did he mean? He said he came home to marry his sweetheart and shes is not invited. She thinks its a joke, his unsmiling face says otherwise. She's dumbfounded and is searching his eyes for further explanation, he says she should have taken a cue from long ago that he was no longer interested and moreover, his 'wife' was already pregnant.
He calls someone to get her a taxi and take her home. The whole gist did not quite make sense to her till late at night. She screams, she wails, the neighbours rush in, her parents are bewildered, they think shes gone mad, they restrain her. Shes mute for 2 more days...glassy eyed, not talking to anyone or recognising faces. She keeps looking at the door, waiting for Him to come in and make it all alright. To come in and tell her it was all a mistake and she was still the one for him, afterall she had forgiven him and he had promised to love her forever. He had said nothing could change his love for her. She took out all of their pictures and spread them on the bed, pinned some on the wall. She sang their song...Shania Twain "Looks like we made it, look how far we've come my baby...". Her uncles, aunts and cousins come to console her saying she needs to be strong and get over him. She tells them she's sure HE will come and show them all that they are wrong. He'll come for her. He promised he'll come back for her, he promised. it just a matter of time now and he'll wlak in through those doors.
By now, of course i was already having a paradigm shift. I had begun to see Dame Shag-A-Lot in a different light. Her eyes were glassy, like she was faraway, she seemed oblivious of my presence, she looked like she was in pain, re-feeling the hurt all over again yet trying to be 'strong' and not feel. The glow from the candle light seemed to accentuate her pain as she continued unbundling her heart in a torrent. I could see the beginning of a tear in each eye, she didnt try to hide it, she had run away from the hurt for ever, never speaking about it till now, she had become activity seeking to avoid being alone. She had gone from boyfriend to boyfriend seeking to re-affir to herself that she was a good enough woman for anybody. She was messed up and only got herself hurt more and more in each relationship. Then she started with her friends' boyfriends maybe those will work out. Sex was th only way to trap and keep the guys but of course it never worked, more and more her rep grew and more guys flocked to her for one night stands and booty calls, thus entered Dame Shag-A-Lot.
She didnt really enjoy most of the sex, yeah, there had been some realy good ones but she needed to be needed. TO be valued and naively thought "Philantropic Sex" was the panacea. Of course she was wrong.
When she was through, we were both quiet in our differnet corners of the sitting room. The candles burnt on with the flames waving to the ripple of the silent tears in her eyes. An eternity passed and she tried to wipe her eyes. I say a few words and avoided saying too much-I really couldnt relate to this much of pain in one person. Never felt one person carry so much burden. She excuses herself, and says she needs to leave. I pack her board game for her, she involontarily cringes when I handed it to her. She asks for a polythene bag to put it in. My guys enter and shatter the silence. They are happy to see her, she manages a weak smile, they ask whats wrong, she says she's not feeling well and needs to go home; they ask me what I had said to upset her so, she has a pleading look in her eyes not to tell, so I just smiled at the guys and changed the topic.
I never saw Shag-A-Lot again. She seemed to have just fizzled out. My guys say she seems to have repented and they didnt see her at parties anymore. i was christened 'Pastor" (lol) for making her 'repent'.
This post is dedicated to you and to everyone (esp females) who have had to go through such hurt. No matter how you chose to handle your individual pain, my heart goes out to you and I say "May you find a reason to smile, soon" ONE LOVE.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Inspiration from the belly...

Ol boy,
See as hunger dey fire me thunder!
It's already past 8pm and I have this rule about not eating after 8pm.

Chei, see why e go nice to have a wife so? You say?

Mmmm, a wife. But will that solve anything or just complicate issues? What if she's the career type who won't get home early-deadlines to meet at the work place- won't it be wickedness to ask her to start making food when she gets home after wading thru the Lagos traffic sea.
She'll probably be cranky and you know what is said about hungry men...

yep! Ingredients for a fight are already provided; all that's needed is the first spark: maybe just a word spoken out of place and KABOOM!
(this marriage thing sef, LOL )

OK, how about a house help?
Halleluya o
...an extra shag mate in the convenience of your own kitchen? When cranky career-madam suddenly develops a 'headache' and wants to retire early?

But I digress.

This was supposed to be about food and hunger-an omni multitude problem. The main problem of the masses since the time of Joseph as Prime Minister of Egypt.

Has the problem been solved? Heck no!

A female I know once came up with an idea of feeding a thousand needy people every Saturday-I asked her to make an estimate of how it'll cost her and that was it. Curiously, It was never spoken of again.
I know of several peeps who do one thing or the other for charity ( including yours truly)-God bless them. Mine costs me twenty thousand each month and I'm thinking 'wharaheck', I fit blow that sum on a date at a fancy restaurant- one night, one sitting, yet that small dough does a lot for a lotta kids.

It doesn't just give them fish but attempts to teach them how to fish. That way they don't become dependent on you or anyone.

See my distant Uncle, Obama (I no tell you?) has been into charity work siiince forever. now the bros na President of the world.

Start small. Even if na to volunteer to give career talk for ya high school. All join.

My charge?
Wetin you do for your society?
Do something for your society.
Give back to the community.
Enjoy life but, LIVE AND HELP LIVE.


Saturday, January 17, 2009


Yeah! Where was I?...
The other taxi emptied as the occupants filed out. Ol boy, Lagos na wah o.
How dem take squeeze enter the taxi sef?
Anyways, I asked the women to let the screaming one go, the men all said if they let her out of the taxi she'll run, I replied that I would do the same too, to which one of the men ( the two men save the taxi man had serious cases of tribal marks) started crying!
See me see wonder; my rational mind discharged the guy sharp sharp say if he get something to say he should and not attempt any emotional blackmail... By this time, a crowd had gathered
The gist according to Mr cry: " he was on night duty whennhis neighbours called to say his wife had been 'mis-yarning' since day break and he should come home to take her for help. Which is why they were in the taxi headed for ikeja.
Being a Gidi-born-bred Bobo, I no believe am. Especially with that crying-runs.
So I retorted " iF her head no well, then you are going in the wrong direction. Yaba Psychiatric hospital is in the other direction"
The other man said they were going to their pastor to pray for her. At this, the woman started shouting " it's a lie o. Check their phone, look through their phones and you'll see the numbers of at least five pastors who need me and have asked for me. They want to use me for money"
Okay, now this is really getting interesting.
One of the other women who bore a striking resemblance to the subject woman ( henceforth Crazily Hysterical Woman CHW)
turned to me and introduced herself as CHW's older sister, the other woman as CHW's concerned neighbour, the men as CHW's husband and his brother and the kids as CHW's.
I dismissed all of that with a wave and asked if kindred meant my brother couldn't hurt me.
The crowd had now become sizeable- nigerians love drama!
I directed one of the onlookers to open the door for CHW; she made as if she wanted to make a dash for it- so I held her arm "madam, I need you to calm down and talk to me".
Now out of the car, CHW kept pushing and wanted to be free.
Man, talk about hysterical, she was really high strung. I repeated that she needed to calm down and talk to me to which she said she will talk to me "oga, na you save me today, why I no go talk to you?". She repeated the stories she had been saying and ended with her home address saying she's not mad o.
All the while she was talking, she kept squirming, trying to break free of the guy holding her. That was when I noticed the guy had a grin on his face- he seemed to be having a field day smooching the woman in the guise of restraining her.
na wah o. I went to hold her myself and asked the Perv to shift.
We asked her to identify the people with her-she refused and later affirmed that she knew them. She kept Pushing to get away and I nearly lost my hold on her when her body odor hit me.
I asked her to sit in the car and she resumed her plea- asking not to be left with the evil people.
All efforts to calm the woman down didn't work amd her story started springing holes . One by one our convictions that she was well started evaporating.
We had to force her back into the taxi when she attempted to run- took 3 men to get her inside ( I didn't let them man-handle her).
One of the onlookers identified himself as a plain clothes police man and assured her she'll be OK. My taxi man checked out the taxi park sticker on the taxi for authenticity, interrogated the taxi driver and related to me that the man was clean.
Nonetheless, I took a picture of them all and the taxi plate number. Took Mr Cry's phone and used it to call mine - to get their phone number and promised to call later to know how far...
My taxi man was real proud of me and I could see the joys in his eyes of being part of something big- of course he still collected his fare
Funny enough, my flight had been delayed. Heaven smiling down on me?
Of course, I felt good.

Friday, January 16, 2009


So I wake up, do do and I'M heading for the airport. Only thing on my mind is "Dont miss your flight"
Around Maryland, my taxi man says something about some people fighting in another taxi- I thot that was rather curious and looked.
Ok and behold, the was a tightly packed taxi ahead of us with a rather young and pretty looking fair complexion woman sticking her head out screaming " HELP, HELP NIGERIA HELP ME O...!"
On-lookers just kept looking on; a 'MOPO' passed by smiling stupidly at the woman; no one was saying anything, nothing- while the woman kept shouting herself hoarse. IN BROAD DAY LIGHT!
Omo, perplexion gripped me, 'What is this?!', what sort of crap is our country turning into? Is this not madness? How can such a thing as this be unfolding right before our eyes and we'd do nada about it!
What if it's true and she's been kidnapped? What if there's some other story to it? What if...
I asked my taxi man to drive up close to them. Another woman in the taxi on seeing us approach started telling us "I'm her sister, she's not well...". Of course, the main woman kept refuting the claim saying " Its a lie o, they want to use me for money. Help me o. I'm a Nigerian, igalla by tribe, I live in Bariga # street . Help me o Nigeria .
Aggresion took me; what if tie my own sister, wife, mother, daughter or just friend who was in such an ordeal...
My taxi man say make we block them? I said yes and thot 'heck! There goes my flight'
We corner them by Sheraton hotel- Bond style (thank you thank you); in a flash I was out and demanded them all to come out. I think my Arnold chest startled them ( lol), I quickly took a count, 3 men, 3 women, 4 kids. I can take out the first man with a right hook - or two-rush the next into the body of the cab and hope my taxi man has a spanner or something to clobber with. Within my split second evaluation, I also kept an eye on my taxi man; make the man no take off with my load ( ol boy, na gidi we dey o- anything can happen- all of this could be an elaborate scam. Abi?!
Anyways, I was determined to do something in my own lil way to challenge this national crase wey dey make us shy from a good cause..
Meanwhile, gotta run. Will finish the yarn later.
One love.