It's Day 1 of the fashion show for the Lesrouges summer collection. For the hundredth time in 5 minutes, Davida convinced herself that she's all set and ready to strut her 5ft8" on the runway. The other models are quiet set, but she's not. You'll be wondering why she's so nervous if you knew that apart from being the only black face in the show, Davida's portfolio has mouth-watering names of big giants in the industry...Milan, Paris, NewYork, Nigeria,...name it. She's got it all going for her, so you'll think......until you open the door to her closet, on that first day of the Lesrouges fashion show and hear the familiar "click-clack". You quietly observe her as she religiously shakes out two pills and swallows it with expertise. She drains it with a glass of water, shakes the dizzy appeal away, and as she turns, she sees you standing there...right in front of her, her puppy brown eyes pop out in surprise "how the hell did you get in here...the door is locked"....she didn't get your response. Youhad flashed the camera while she was in the "act" and frozen the moment. Before she jolts back to reality, both you and her "click-clack" have dissappeared.
Tailor-made-to-skin...that's how he loves his suit. Right here, Chidi is the guy in charge. He has only spent 6months in this bank, but OMG!!! he's pulled in close to 500million Nigerian naira!!!. He's the envy of all eyes right now...He's got the bank into Fortune500. The competitors are as green as a tree frog with envy. They're desperate to nail him down, but nothing can stop this guy. He's a perfect gentleman. "Chidi is a go-getter", that's what his colleagues and superiors would tell you....you would believe that too till you hear the familiar "click-clack"...this time, of his shoes...he loves the soles resounding on the floor...and when they do, he gets intoxicated...he wants to go further...that's what you think of him too, until that day when you open the door to the hotel room where he has gone to "retreat"...what do you see? Chidi's all mushy-mushy with a mid-aged woman. The face is familiar...she's a society figure in fact the wife of a big name in the oil and gas sector...You zoom your lens on them and catch the moment. As both turn, you wave his shoes at him and dissapear with them...that's his 'click-clack' gone....
Now, you've got Davida's pills and Chidi's shoes....their "click-clacks"...you've got their caught-in-the-act-of-worst-cases pictures too....all you want to do now is get up and post them to the right quarters....Davida's pictures will fetch you a huge amount if you give one of those soft-sell gossip mags, and chidi's pictures would never make you work again!!! The preying competitors would kill to have those pictures....But as you revel in your soon-to-be-gotten wealth....you suddenly jolt back to reality because you hear the familiar sound!!! So close now you begin to wonder if there's a second person in the room...but there isn't
Now, this is YOUR case. You've got the "click-clacks" too...not even one...they are in your life like mushrooms...budding to grow wild and untamed. But you've been too busy with Davida's and Chidi's to notice the cankerworms in your closet...
You surprise yourself by getting up and burning the "woulda-made-me-rich" pictures of chidi and davida. You decide that if you're going to help them...you're going to be their friend...and as you do, you'll help yourself too.
As the clock ticks and makes it's "click-clack"....you smile at it decisively...
"oh, well...it just about makes us the same"
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Birthdays Are Not for The Dead
As I hummed to MJ's "Beat it"
The toothpaste trickled playfully down my lips
(I would have done the "go-360-till-you-get-dizzy-and-loose-your-head" spin
But when i considered the distance between my house and the next available orthopedic hospital....I changed my mind!)
Yes, I am not one to brush my teeth
The way I scrub my feet
So, I rinsed off the minty taste of the paste
Before it journeys down my throat in a haste
Then, I stood on tiptoes
Uh-oh the mirror has suddenly grown taller
"Pshew, agbaya"
I scolded myself as I observed the lady in the mirror
Nothing has changed
Yet, today I am a year older
"But how come I haven't grown 365inches taller?"
I thought as I made my way back into the room
Yeah right I reasoned, "you will...when Yar'adua fulfills his 7point a-gun-down...oops 'agenda'
As if on cue, Nepa struck
"odechi", (it no pain me) i blurted
But wait a...HA!!! My birthday dress lies on the bed limp and rumpled
Like a prodigal lover, i smiled toothily at the cold stare of the dead fluorescent
"Nepa, pls now, don't do this to me...you know today is...
Then my phone rang for the one-millionth time
(It'd be criminal if you'd believed that...but lets just say I'm the bday gal, so i've got every right to EXaGeRRate.. ha ha ha)
I had braced myself for a "happy birthday' song from my friend who was calling
But as I flipped the phone...OMG!
"TMT,are you there" she bellowed out louder than a pipe-flute
"yeah girlf..."
"You are still speaking English...see have you heard?"
(Now I know she has forgotten my birthday. That girl, i will show her...but another day, not today. I plan to be the most benevolent of all beings today)
"Heard what"
"Hmm, where are we going? ehn? I just saw it on CNN now"
"What did you see now..." If it's on CNN then it ain't no good news
Then, hurriedly she said " Yee, no credit again o...make sure you send me-2-u now"
"But you haven't told me what you saw on CNN" I quickly caught up with her
"It's crazy Temitayo, Obama is going to Ghana"
There was a slight rustle in network, so she repeated " Did you hear meeee, Obamaaaaaaaa is going to Ghanaaaaaaaaaaaa"
"Click" the line went dead.
I shook my head as i settled next to my rumpled cloth on the bed
Obama, "our brother" in Ghana
It's a sorry case of "Nawa ooo"
Then my SMS alert beeped
"I hope this is a lovely birthday wish o" I mumbled
Too late to hope, i guess. The content was hopeless!
"Hp u've heard that Obama is goin 2 Ghana.
Guess who's coming to lag on a rollercoaster?
Our own "messiah's" with luv frm d Niger-Delta!!!
By d way, Happy bday...tlk 2 u l8r"
Whether i dropped the phone or it slipped from my hand, I can't say
I became lost in thought and transition. Guess it comes with adding another year huh?
But it was then I remembered her
My birthday mate.
She would have been the first to call me today
She would have made me laugh so much tears would spill at both corners of my eyes
She would have made a joke out of Obama's ommission and the millitants menace
She would have clumsily sang Happy birthday in her trademark birdy voice
But, two years ago,
My Birthday mate
Slipped away to heaven's gate
And all effort became a lil' too late
As i fought back the tears that beclouded my sight
I knew, beyond every shadow of doubt
That Today...Yes, this present day is not just a cyclical advancement of a lifetime
Today is a life-day out of a life-time.
A day to be thankful...just like any other day
A day to do that brush-a-second-rinse-a-millisecond...just like any other day
A day to yawn with my mouth oh-so-wide-opened...just like any other day
A day to learn the moon-walk even if it'd embarrass MJ...just like any other day....
Like a scolded child, I went on my knees and sang a lovesong to God
For I am not in the least the best of His beings...
Without much thought, I sprang to my feet
And pulled on my rumpled birthday dress
I looked back at the lady in the mirror
And i smiled at what i saw. She tilted her head and softly whispered
"Birthdays are not for the dead
Though you hit me in the head
I would not budge or tears shed
For it is by His grace that I got out of bed
Therefore,I shall rejoice because He gives me bread"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The End.
NB: ** I credit the title to inspiration from Prof Osofisan's "Birthday's are not for dying" (eh, eh, I haven't read/ seen the play though, but that catchy philosophy in the title gave me a reason to write this)
** It's Fiction...a.k.a the imaginative prowess of the pen. xoxo
The toothpaste trickled playfully down my lips
(I would have done the "go-360-till-you-get-dizzy-and-loose-your-head" spin
But when i considered the distance between my house and the next available orthopedic hospital....I changed my mind!)
Yes, I am not one to brush my teeth
The way I scrub my feet
So, I rinsed off the minty taste of the paste
Before it journeys down my throat in a haste
Then, I stood on tiptoes
Uh-oh the mirror has suddenly grown taller
"Pshew, agbaya"
I scolded myself as I observed the lady in the mirror
Nothing has changed
Yet, today I am a year older
"But how come I haven't grown 365inches taller?"
I thought as I made my way back into the room
Yeah right I reasoned, "you will...when Yar'adua fulfills his 7point a-gun-down...oops 'agenda'
As if on cue, Nepa struck
"odechi", (it no pain me) i blurted
But wait a...HA!!! My birthday dress lies on the bed limp and rumpled
Like a prodigal lover, i smiled toothily at the cold stare of the dead fluorescent
"Nepa, pls now, don't do this to me...you know today is...
Then my phone rang for the one-millionth time
(It'd be criminal if you'd believed that...but lets just say I'm the bday gal, so i've got every right to EXaGeRRate.. ha ha ha)
I had braced myself for a "happy birthday' song from my friend who was calling
But as I flipped the phone...OMG!
"TMT,are you there" she bellowed out louder than a pipe-flute
"yeah girlf..."
"You are still speaking English...see have you heard?"
(Now I know she has forgotten my birthday. That girl, i will show her...but another day, not today. I plan to be the most benevolent of all beings today)
"Heard what"
"Hmm, where are we going? ehn? I just saw it on CNN now"
"What did you see now..." If it's on CNN then it ain't no good news
Then, hurriedly she said " Yee, no credit again o...make sure you send me-2-u now"
"But you haven't told me what you saw on CNN" I quickly caught up with her
"It's crazy Temitayo, Obama is going to Ghana"
There was a slight rustle in network, so she repeated " Did you hear meeee, Obamaaaaaaaa is going to Ghanaaaaaaaaaaaa"
"Click" the line went dead.
I shook my head as i settled next to my rumpled cloth on the bed
Obama, "our brother" in Ghana
It's a sorry case of "Nawa ooo"
Then my SMS alert beeped
"I hope this is a lovely birthday wish o" I mumbled
Too late to hope, i guess. The content was hopeless!
"Hp u've heard that Obama is goin 2 Ghana.
Guess who's coming to lag on a rollercoaster?
Our own "messiah's" with luv frm d Niger-Delta!!!
By d way, Happy bday...tlk 2 u l8r"
Whether i dropped the phone or it slipped from my hand, I can't say
I became lost in thought and transition. Guess it comes with adding another year huh?
But it was then I remembered her
My birthday mate.
She would have been the first to call me today
She would have made me laugh so much tears would spill at both corners of my eyes
She would have made a joke out of Obama's ommission and the millitants menace
She would have clumsily sang Happy birthday in her trademark birdy voice
But, two years ago,
My Birthday mate
Slipped away to heaven's gate
And all effort became a lil' too late
As i fought back the tears that beclouded my sight
I knew, beyond every shadow of doubt
That Today...Yes, this present day is not just a cyclical advancement of a lifetime
Today is a life-day out of a life-time.
A day to be thankful...just like any other day
A day to do that brush-a-second-rinse-a-millisecond...just like any other day
A day to yawn with my mouth oh-so-wide-opened...just like any other day
A day to learn the moon-walk even if it'd embarrass MJ...just like any other day....
Like a scolded child, I went on my knees and sang a lovesong to God
For I am not in the least the best of His beings...
Without much thought, I sprang to my feet
And pulled on my rumpled birthday dress
I looked back at the lady in the mirror
And i smiled at what i saw. She tilted her head and softly whispered
"Birthdays are not for the dead
Though you hit me in the head
I would not budge or tears shed
For it is by His grace that I got out of bed
Therefore,I shall rejoice because He gives me bread"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The End.
NB: ** I credit the title to inspiration from Prof Osofisan's "Birthday's are not for dying" (eh, eh, I haven't read/ seen the play though, but that catchy philosophy in the title gave me a reason to write this)
** It's Fiction...a.k.a the imaginative prowess of the pen. xoxo
My Odysee
Pardon how i spelt my odysee
After dear folks spent a quarter of a million naira on my education
...not so much though, compared to my cousin whose folks had to stop their house project cos she was going off to a private uni...
she's out now and the house is still in mid-summer nightmare!
I souldn't at this point disgrace them, in the least way with grammatical "mutall"-bombs
but that's my point right now!
I am me
The me I know is the "me' I want to project
I go all around
My dreams and thoughts i spread on the grounds
Etched gradient in the dross of gold
I am not afraid to say it the way i like
'cos the way i like it
is the way i know you will know it to be
My odysee is the sea of ode
The old sage's abode
The abode of a socratic mind
Who may never take "no" for an answer
but can answer with a "no"
This is my odysee.
After dear folks spent a quarter of a million naira on my education
...not so much though, compared to my cousin whose folks had to stop their house project cos she was going off to a private uni...
she's out now and the house is still in mid-summer nightmare!
I souldn't at this point disgrace them, in the least way with grammatical "mutall"-bombs
but that's my point right now!
I am me
The me I know is the "me' I want to project
I go all around
My dreams and thoughts i spread on the grounds
Etched gradient in the dross of gold
I am not afraid to say it the way i like
'cos the way i like it
is the way i know you will know it to be
My odysee is the sea of ode
The old sage's abode
The abode of a socratic mind
Who may never take "no" for an answer
but can answer with a "no"
This is my odysee.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Bring no Bloddied Balm in Obama's Name
Hope can never die. For when hope dies, We, with ashen faces, teeter towards the brink of nothingness. Even as the 44th president of the USA is inaugurated,I want to give a tribute. I feel the urge to celebrate a man of audacity.But, there's a stronger passion that burns in me now.There's a heavier burden
This is not for the US of A. Though, I celebrate and gyrate. I cannot but take time to reflect on my nation.What i zoom my telescope on is a 'seemingly' normal part of us....
the 'alaseju'
(Alaseju is a yoruba expression for someone that does something to the extreme)
it is in us.
like a curse
Painting other people's house when our's is falling apart.
We go wild about Euro-sports,
Who cares if eyimba burns like a timber!
In Nija-English parlance:
"our own sef is too much"
And now, Obama's name come's like a balm
Seeping through the veins and muscles of every-born.
...A bloodied balm.
As it shall heal,
So shall it kill.
No more shall we be judged by the contents of our skin
(there's hope for white-washed 'sisi-eko's here now
and an endless "eeya" for our own MJ)
But, by the time-tested content of our characters.
Today, change is.
It breathes with life,
With a mission guarded in living dreams.
Dreams...
The dreams of our fathers....
"Their" father's anyway
We imbibe that dream....good
We aspire to grasp it...Good
We stand on tip-toes and reach for it...GOod
We even dance bata towards its warm embrace....GOOD!
Afterall, of what good is a dream not shared
Even, Joseph had to share his before he became the "baba-isale' in egypt.
Alas! the "alaseju" would not make us stop at that.
We have injected America's change, into the ailing body of Nigeria .
The walls are closing in on us
Our currency shrinks in our purse
It meanders in the thick forest of global economic depression
Jos crises still rises in the papers
The "Alaseju"....
We waste the day in lamentation of our nation
We keep vigil at night for Obama's inauguration!!!
Aren't we the proverbial tortoise,
that visits the celebrant and dances and jubilates much more than the celebrant?
"32year old Akin Salawu from Brooklyn"
That was how bbc news put it.
He was obama's campaign web developer and a lead supporter of the young politician.
Hmmm...Akin Salawu
(I wont be shocked if he's from my small village in oyo state!)
Akin Salawu...Toiling day and night for obama
His is just a name out of the millions of Nigerians, that would have died for obama to be president.
The "Alaseju" syndrome again!
Now transcending borders and coasts
Has found it's way into the hearts of nija's in diaspora.
We do not live in Nigeria, neither do we breathe in this vast air-space
Nigeria lives in us. We cannot by chance reverse that place. So, when we are ready to pay that price of sacrifice, of unconditional love:(bourne out of unity and faith), of volunteer-work, of community spirit, of hope, of dream, the dreams of our our own fathers, then, change will come.
At the precipice, change shall come.
And like the old Negro song that made up the oratory of Dr MLK,
We, as a people shall one day sing:
"Free at last, Free at last,
Thank God, We are Free at last."
But in the mannerism of the new President's Dressing
We've got to roll up our sleeves
and work for it...right here, in Nigeria.
This is not for the US of A. Though, I celebrate and gyrate. I cannot but take time to reflect on my nation.What i zoom my telescope on is a 'seemingly' normal part of us....
the 'alaseju'
(Alaseju is a yoruba expression for someone that does something to the extreme)
it is in us.
like a curse
Painting other people's house when our's is falling apart.
We go wild about Euro-sports,
Who cares if eyimba burns like a timber!
In Nija-English parlance:
"our own sef is too much"
And now, Obama's name come's like a balm
Seeping through the veins and muscles of every-born.
...A bloodied balm.
As it shall heal,
So shall it kill.
No more shall we be judged by the contents of our skin
(there's hope for white-washed 'sisi-eko's here now
and an endless "eeya" for our own MJ)
But, by the time-tested content of our characters.
Today, change is.
It breathes with life,
With a mission guarded in living dreams.
Dreams...
The dreams of our fathers....
"Their" father's anyway
We imbibe that dream....good
We aspire to grasp it...Good
We stand on tip-toes and reach for it...GOod
We even dance bata towards its warm embrace....GOOD!
Afterall, of what good is a dream not shared
Even, Joseph had to share his before he became the "baba-isale' in egypt.
Alas! the "alaseju" would not make us stop at that.
We have injected America's change, into the ailing body of Nigeria .
The walls are closing in on us
Our currency shrinks in our purse
It meanders in the thick forest of global economic depression
Jos crises still rises in the papers
The "Alaseju"....
We waste the day in lamentation of our nation
We keep vigil at night for Obama's inauguration!!!
Aren't we the proverbial tortoise,
that visits the celebrant and dances and jubilates much more than the celebrant?
"32year old Akin Salawu from Brooklyn"
That was how bbc news put it.
He was obama's campaign web developer and a lead supporter of the young politician.
Hmmm...Akin Salawu
(I wont be shocked if he's from my small village in oyo state!)
Akin Salawu...Toiling day and night for obama
His is just a name out of the millions of Nigerians, that would have died for obama to be president.
The "Alaseju" syndrome again!
Now transcending borders and coasts
Has found it's way into the hearts of nija's in diaspora.
We do not live in Nigeria, neither do we breathe in this vast air-space
Nigeria lives in us. We cannot by chance reverse that place. So, when we are ready to pay that price of sacrifice, of unconditional love:(bourne out of unity and faith), of volunteer-work, of community spirit, of hope, of dream, the dreams of our our own fathers, then, change will come.
At the precipice, change shall come.
And like the old Negro song that made up the oratory of Dr MLK,
We, as a people shall one day sing:
"Free at last, Free at last,
Thank God, We are Free at last."
But in the mannerism of the new President's Dressing
We've got to roll up our sleeves
and work for it...right here, in Nigeria.
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