Sunday, December 12, 2010

When The Phone Rings

I pick up a sim and insert into a phone, I punch in numbers and a phone rings, I look at the screen and it reads Dad. Silent tears refusing to fall push to the fore,  my throat becomes dry and I feel a choke...I look at the name and but do not answer I let it ring through or I end the call.

I dial from the phone again and I look to the other, I see Dad again and this time the tears fall silently. I wish I could answer and hear Dad’s voice from the other side asking how I am and telling me how much he loves me.

I do this over and over again and I look at the record on my phone and think to times past when I would see Dad, quickly answer, chat for a few seconds or for long minutes, taking for granted your voice I would always hear or your calls I would receive.

The phone rings again, this time I did not send the call but the phone redials it...even it most know I hold on to the moment never wanting Dad’s call to end.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

A Drunk

A drunk feels smug

As he sips from a mug

For him beer has become a drug

* Which has turned his mind to murk

Let the drunk spend time with his beer

You'll soon hear him say he fought a bear

Who at his end shed a tear

And whose skin he stripped bare

Give the drunk more of his drug

And he'll begin to mutter

Fighting hard not to stutter

Over secrets he must not utter

As he slurps and hugs his mug

Unconsiously he'll be hunched and stare at the rug

Wondering if his insides have been wrung

And why his life has gone wrong

He'll get his keys ready to drive

Frowning as stars in his eyes arrive

He'll think of a toast and look to the coast

Lastly hearing the laughter of long dead ghosts.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Special Agent FIFI

It’s about 12noon, and the residents and workers of Boyle street Onikan Lagos, were glad they had generators in their offices and so couldn’t feel the heat of the midday sun, and so with the aid of a mechanical contraption, they didn’t have to sweat excessively.

Although in the past few weeks, the nations provider of that very scarce commodity—‘electricity’ had provided epileptic service but with sudden bursts of shocking long hours, (we suspect they may have fallen asleep or had been bribed at these moments) we hear they have gone on summer vacation to the Bahamas or some exotic Island where they will no doubt enjoy the fruits of their labour (I mean all the monies from connecting back lines has to be spent someday).

So on this hot day about 12pm, (we have mentioned this haven’t we) our top agent that female of incomparable beauty, that genius whom Einstein would have envied, that defender of the masses, that upholder of justice, that deep thinker of thoughts unknown; agent 90210 aka Fifi, was out on a secret mission.

On her way to this very important mission, she was called to spy on bags which a seller from Iraq had just brought into the country. These bags had the potential to hide shoulder held blast guns (whatever those might be).
Suddenly Fifi spots some men in pinkish-purplish shirts and black trousers walking about and deflating tyres, and just when they were about to walk up to her mini parakeet aka the fifi van, she gives the stance of peace and goes into fight mode.

Yes I know you’re probably wondering what this is all about yeh!

So it’s about 12noon on Boyle street Onikan and men of the task force in purple and black trousers are seen with a tow truck lurking around with a bunch of policemen for support. Soon they form two groups and from both sides of the street they begin to deflate tyres.

I’m wondering what’s going on when a policeman walks up to the car I’m leaning on and asks that it be removed. Soon the word goes round and people begin to leave their offices to find out what exactly is going on. In less than 5 minutes there’s confusion when car owners realise their tyres have been deflated and for what; tax hadn’t been paid for the car park.

Now was this a proper car park, nope it was just space which had been converted into a parking lot because there wasn’t enough parking space in the various buildings along the street. Was it obstructing traffic? Nope it was well away from the road.

So before I could blink a whole bunch of lawyers were out on the street screaming blue murder (you bet these revenue collectors/tax invaders/thieves in uniform didn’t know they would be dealing with a whole bunch of people who would be quoting and counter quoting).

Well I loved every bit of the scene as it unfolded from the punch throwing to the screaming to the tax collectors realizing they had just backed up the wrong alley. It’s amazing how Nigerians will suddenly all become human right activists when a bunch of them are together and they are been victimised.

Monday, November 22, 2010

On my way to work this Morning

Where do I begin, I was on my way to work this morning, minding my own business doing my own thing, stuck in a bit of traffic thinking thoughts only I could understand, feeling slightly depressed and generally ruminating over thoughts that kept floating by.

Then suddenly Wham!!! I saw the impossible, blinked twice and waited to see it again and then there it was again not a terrible illusion my brain decided to call up, it was the most irresponsible, absolutely stupid, terribly shocking sight I had ever seen.
Before the grand revelation of what I saw, I must add that it was cheeky and absolutely reckless.

Well this man driving a Mercedes ml 320 jeep, while driving had a magazine folded over his steering wheel and was reading not with divided attention (ok maybe he was pretending to be concentrating) but with his windows wound up and with the Ac on. He wasn’t aware when traffic moved and he had to be horned down before he moved.

As usual nobody could be bothered to get down and beat the daylights out of him which is what I felt like doing; they just threw insults at a man who had not regard for anyone or himself. So since Im gifted in certain areas I look at him and will him to look my way, which in a few seconds he did then I give him the look, which is meant to totally tell him I think he is a jackass and hope his car stalls so that in the naija way we can say e rush e and give him massive beating which I would instigate.

Well this middle aged irresponsible man not only smiles but winks at me, you can imagine how enraged I became...with the intention of wiping the smug smile from his face, I make a show of writing down his plate numbers...its JZ 934 AAA. That definitely got his attention because he put the magazine on the seat where it should have been and then I gave him the finger.

For those of you who must think how this happened in traffic, don’t worry it didn’t all happen at once.

Natural Film Spoilers

Home theatre system, pop corn, a bottle of coke, or canned beer, lights dimmed, a friend or two around, great movie on (can’t afford the cinema but hey you managed to get this very clear copy of an advertised movie that’s a must watch). So, all systems go! Everything is comfy and cool, opening credits roll by, the protagonist has just been introduced and you’re expecting 1 and a half hours of absolute thrill.

Ten minutes in ok maybe twenty, just when you’re in the eye of a perfect plot, Tiger your best buddy makes a comment that just about sums up not just that plot but the entire movie. Lights come on; “guy what was that for?” Tiger: abashed, hey I just thought you’d like to know (obviously Tiger had visited the cinema).

Yep typical, and most of the time it’s just the innate ability to provide information, seen as something simply natural, hey they’re just helping you along. Ok even I have the tendency to shoot my mouth but the difference is I do it with subtlety, I’ll only see the bad guy (just in case you think I don’t know the proper word I’m referring to the antagonist) and shout ‘da killer’ doesn’t mean I’ve said the black guy with the scar is the killer who did this, and that, NO I just shout ‘da killer’ till I’ve gotten on enough nerves then I’m shut up. But that’s conscious and it’s deliberate.

So back to the homo-sapiens who have become object of my study, I have dubbed them Natural Film Spoilers (NFS). Boy are these a unique group, imagine this,

Scene II (action):

You’re watching this really interesting thriller, gosh the climax is building you should use the loo, but you’re holding on (really tricky since your bowel is screaming) but you simply cannot miss the next scene (uh huh pausing would just wreck the overall effect), then your best buddy walks in, takes in the scene and just shoots, “oh! that guy doesn’t die, you think he will, but it’s actually his best friend who goes down” you just stare in disbelief, that’s an NFS and the funny thing is, he most likely just looks away after that and asks “ ol boy wetin dey fridge.”

So see, that’s the point, a pretty good movie, gone, puff! Just like that, Yes, that’s what they do these NFSes just wreck films unknowingly, innocently and without the slightest thought to what they have done.

These NFSes come in various shapes and sizes and the most difficult group to deal with are your mum and dad, if you had the absolute luck to be watching a movie with them. You see you can’t shut them up, you politely get up or just go “Mummy ah ah let us watch now” (when you actually meant to say &^*$%#@), but this usually turns out to be enough to calm them down till the next exciting scene.

So my advice is when you’re watching a movie and a recognised NFS walks in and spews “OH THIS MOVIE” politely pause or switch off and walk away, yep! Invent an excuse and run.

And golly I almost forgot the dreaded better half of an NFS, those who expect you to know the plot or next scene of a movie and expect to be given a blow by blow account of the movie, even when you’re all just watching for the first time. If you encounter one of THESE, be prepared to tell them every 10mins or so that “no you haven’t watched the movie and it’s your first time too and you definitely do not know what the next scene is about.

” If questions persist just SHUT THEM UP.


We all have memories from childhood that make us laugh or cry, become upset or become contagious when they are shared. My best memories come from holidays shared with my cousins. Cousins from my mother’s family though, we never spent holidays with cousins from my father’s family and I barely even knew them, I say that is segregation when a mother has the power to quietly and naturally sideline one part of an extended family (in fact it should become a topic for Debate in the lower house).

Well back to my memory, this particular one happened while we were on holiday to Gulf (now Chevron) estate in satellite town, which is somewhere along the Festac, Agboju axis, on the way to the Trade fair complex along the Badagry express way I think it’s called, but not directly on that axis, so you had to turn off into that general area. So you think, ‘what are a couple of cute kids doing all the way from home’, home being Ilupeju at that time, so yes it was far and yes we were cute. So my mum’s elder sister lived there, with two of her three sons and it was tradition that Kayode the youngest and my age mate who I was only two months and a couple of days older, either spent the holidays with us or us with him, or we hooked up at another cousin’s home Ibukun, if he was in the country. Oh by the way, my cousin Kayode, died in about 1991 in a racial killing in England. So at this time of this particular memory we were with Kayode.

My best memory comes from a particular game we loved to play, come to think of it I wonder why we spent so much time outdoors, when in my opinion television was more interesting then (ok if I’m wrong blame it on old age) well it was the era of the video and my uncle Olu a connoisseur of films always supplied what every child should watch then; the Herbie series; Herbie goes bananas, Herbie goes to Monte Carlo and any other Herbie film that was made then there was Banana Joe, Break Dance, okay if there was any movie children should watch we watched it. But with our tendency to become Cool movie Buffs, we still played outside a lot.

So it was play time, our all time favourite game was Mr. Wolf; a simple yet complex game played with any number of children but in this case it was usually Kayode, my brother Femi and I.

Game plan: Kayode and Femi or any of us, would stand in an enclosure or open space known as the ‘house’ and the wolf who was any of us yet again, would stand outside knock and try to get in. So it was basically went like this;

Wolf: Knock, knock, knock
Children at home: Who is that?
Wolf: Mr Wolf
CAH: What do you want?
Wolf: I want some colours
CAH: Which colour?
Wolf: Colour... (at this point wolfie had to guess which colour any of us had chosen, if he made a right guess, the owner of the colour would have to come out of the house to be chased by wolfie and if he was caught he/she would become the next wolf)

On this day however, I was Mr. Wolf and at first I had gone through the regular colours blue, red pink, yellow, gone on to the others; light blue, light brown, light green, gone on to our own creations light pink, light purple, light yellow, light orange, green grass and on and on I went making up what I could and refusing to give up.

An hour later, and yes I mean an hour later when I had totally run out of ideas and Femi had lay down to sleep, Kayode asks if I was ready to give up, I ignored him and asked him to tell me which colours he had chosen instead, he simply asked that I officially give up which would end the game before he spilled, I finally did and with a dead pan expression he says “my colour is Flamingo and Femi’s colour is Flamingo Fly Fly”.

I just stared in utter amazement, Flamingo and Flamingo Fly Fly I repeated that’s cheating, where did you get them from? And he replied “what, those are the colours of a Flamingo didn’t you know”.

Dedicated to my cousin; knowing we never forget certain things...

Love Poem

My Friend an aspiring Poet wrote this

I lie on the ground,
and stare into space,
the stars start to move,
into the shape of your face.

I see you there now,
looking down at me,
with that cute little smile,
that I like to see.

You say "close your eyes",
"tell me what you see",
I see only two people,
just you and me.

We're walking the shoreline,
with our feet getting wet,
the horizon turns pink,
as the sun starts to set.

We make love through the night,
on that white sandy shore,
then I hold you while thinking,
I could want nothing more.

Oh I wish I could be,
in that one special place,
as I lie on the ground,
and I stare into space.

from` kola obisesan'

Monday, November 15, 2010

My Son Has Learnt to Say NO...

Yay!!! My son's vocabulary is expanding...after been called Daddy for so long, he started to say Mammy or AFI (pronounced really sharp and fast like he has to get it out quickly) about 3 months ago.

3 days ago, he began with NO, what joy another word learnt, it's meaning however is translated in several ways.

Bibi, kiss mummy "NO" (although I finally get the kiss when I tell him it simply wont do him any good not to kiss me), Bibi do you want to eat Golden morn "NO" (that I can live with, hunger has a way of doing things), Bibi give me 5 "NO" (and he used to do it so willingly too). Bibi do you feel sleepy and he says "NO" so vehemently, I'm shocked he falls asleep 30 mins after.

So I'm beginning to get a lil confused with NO, NO all the time especially when it's said with a nod that looks like Yes to me and when I think its really Yes he means and not NO he runs off, so that's an Obvious NO isn't it?

I must now teach him the "YES" word which he seems to find amusing, why on earth he'd find the word amusing beats my imagination honestly.