Vessels- The Prologue

Guys! I’m so sorry I abandoned this blog for so long. Procrastination is a serious bi**h. So I know I started off the Mr Jones series and never completed it, but that was just a learning process for me. As a wannabe writer, I didn’t know how much planning the writing process takes, especially a series. I will however try to rewrite Mr Jones in such a way that it has an ending.
Anyway so this is my second attempt at a series. I’m secretly a history/mythology buff and the ancient Greeks and Romans fascinated me growing up. Rick Riordan fuelled this for me with his Percy Jackson series. Anyway so it got me thinking? How would your average Nigerian teenager react to interference of foreign Gods in their life. The series is titled VESSELS and I hope you enjoy it.                    

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                                                            VESSELS

2016 A.D
Mount Olympus
Zeus’ Throne Room

Zeus sat slumped across his giant throne with his thunderbolt across his lap, exhausted after another long day of trying to keep the Titans locked in Tartarus. He knew time was running out; eventually he would be too weak to prevent the imminent prison break from happening and the Titans would once again walk the earth, wrecking havoc and disrupting the balance between good and evil.
What they needed were Heroes. A group of mortals who were brave enough to save the world from complete destruction. People like Hercules or Jason. But where would they find such people? Zeus brought out his lpad from beneath his robes and did a quick Google search using the words STRONG, INTELLIGENT, COURAGEOUS. The first link on the search page was an article on the US Navy SEALs. The article included a short video of the SEALs in training, jumping off the platform of a burning ship somewhere in the arctic region. Zeus chuckled with glee and rubbed his hands excitedly as an idea began to form in his head.
It was crazy…..Might not work…. But worth a shot. He sent a text to Hermes, the Messanger of the Gods and Group admin of the Gods’ WhatsApp group chat- G Pimpin’.

New Broadcast Message Alert!: Olympians ONLY family meeting, my throne room, in 20 minutes, be there or face my wrath ( grining devil smiley).

Not more than 20 minutes later the other Gods appeared before him:
Poseidon (soaking wet and clutching his trident ),
Artemis and her twin brother Apollo (engaged in a heated argument nobody could make any sense of),
Hades ( moody and dressed head to toe in black with matching eyeliner and nail polish),
Athena, Demeter, Ares, Hecate, Hermes and Hephaestus ( gossiping about the length of Aphrodite’s robe)
Aphrodite ( enjoying the attention her scandalous robe was causing. Big ups to Fashion Police for the inspiration, whoop whoop!)
Dionysus ( drunk as usual and forming dirty limericks)
Lastly, Zeus’ wife, Hera. The matriarch of the Gods. She walked in calmly,  head covered and went to take her place next to her husband.

Once everyone had quietened down and he had their undivided attention Zeus began to speak, addressing Hades first.

“Little brother, what is the condition of the prisoners in your realm?”
“They have devised a way to feed off the pain of those labouring in the Fields of Punishment and they grow stronger as we speak. Their prison won’t be able to hold them if they escape again,” replied Hades.
“I feared as much. We have to look for a lasting solution and I think I just might have it”, said Zeus as the proceeded to share his idea with the remaining Olympians

When Zeus finished talking there was total silence in the room until it was interrupted by Poseidon.
“Why seven though?”
” Because it’s a number of perfection and anyway it sounds good to me. So seven it is”, replied Zeus.
“Ok, said Poseidon, who out of us will constitute the seven?
” Err I haven’t thought that far yet. I guess we’ll just draw lots and use that to choose”.
The drawn lots revealed Poseidon, Athena, Ares, Hades, Artemis with Zeus and Hera heading the team. The remaining Gods were required to hold down the fort before the mission was completed.
All was set, the Super Seven just had to touch the link of the SEAL article and be on their way to save the world when two things happened:

First, somewhere in Lekki( Lagos, Nigeria, Africa), the Principal of Rockford High School completed the SEO ( Search Engine Optimisation ) process for the school website with the school motto Building Strong, Intelligent and Courageous Leaders of Tomorrow as the key words. This resulted in the website jumping to the top of web searches containing any of the words.
Secondly, an angry God, Iris, stormed into the throne room to lodge a formal complaint about some lesser Gods that were annoying her. She made a beeline straight to where the Super Seven gathered and in an attempt to get closer to Zeus, she pushed Artemis out of the way and stood in her place.

Zeus just tapped the first link without confirming that is was for the SEAL article. Athena had noticed the page refreshing and the change in Web address but her cries of WAIT were too late. All seven of them including Iris were on their way to one of the most unlikely adventures they would ever be involved in.

  

2015: The Review

Wow!!! The year is over. Strangely i didn’t think it would fly by this fast. Anyways let’s get this review on, shall we!

1) Firstly the serenity prayer worked out fine for me. Led to less incidences of anger and frustration all year long so I think I’ll continue using it.

2) I finally graduated!!!!!! It took 6 sessions, 5 years and at least 3 strikes but its finally over. Missed convocation though but oh well!

3) Relationships. Ah! In fact… What a wow. Friendships were tested, hearts were broken, but we did not die!!!! The magnitude of things I learnt about myself and others in the process is overwhelming.
The relationship I started 2015 with ended sometime in march. Not long after, I reconnected with a familiar face and jumped of the cliff of feelings without a parachute and refused to have a soft cushion to break my fall. Eventually we parted ways before the year ended. I think that means I’ve used up my relationship slot for 2016 so maybe till 2017 then.

4) Resolutions. Not waiting till 2016 to implement any. Starting right now.
-Dealing with issues myself because apparently a problem shared= ammunition for future arguments.
-Meeting new people and widening my circle of influence
-Cutting off unhealthy attachments. Those who either take you for granted or worse, take advantage. The ones that hit you up with that ‘ hey big head’ message whenever they feel lonely or bored and disappear right after. As someone said, if I have to explain my importance to you, then you don’t deserve me in your life.

To all who made 2015 awesome for me, I thank you so much and hope and pray 2016 will be much better. And to those who tried to mess it up, Sayonara! Hopefully this time next year, I’ll have plenty happy incidents to review.
Strawberry thoughts and happy new year people!

Dear Naiomi….

There is something  about losing your identity. Realising your voice has taken a leave of absence without a forwarding address and nothing but an empty shell to remind you of what once was.
The cold clammy hands of depression tugging at your innards and the constant cry of your broken spirit. Begging for release… Emotionally drained and in need of some form of care… Pity.. A hug.. Anything.
Going through the 5 stages of grief simultaneously while your brain tries to process the mess of what is left of your dignity.
Then it hits you. WHAM! In the form of a book, a song or even a painting. Suddenly the previously grainy view of the world is sparked with an amazing technicolor. The bounce in your step is back and your voice returns.. Shyly at first, like the whispers of a warm summer breeze until it reaches a full crescendo.
It is at this exact moment that you need to decide that this will be the new norm. Nothing will take your voice again. Make you feel less than what you are. And most importantly deciding that YOUR happiness comes first and that being selfish is necessary.
Promise yourself that the anger and mistrust are a thing of a past.
And lastly, promise not to give up on love but instead cherish it more than ever.
Xoxo!

I’m not a Feminist, but i’m definitely a Pragmatist

Yesterday, someone sent me the link of a video of a talk by  Chimamanda Adichie. He is of the notion that I’m going to like it because of my ‘strong feminist views’. Unfortunately I haven’t watched the video because of the bad internet connection in my hostel. When I do, I’ll certainly let you know my opinion of it.
However I felt I should address this idea of my supposed feminism.

I am NOT a Feminist. Or maybe i’m not even sure of what a Feminist is. The word has been knocked about back and forth for the last two years with such tenacity, I seriously think its more or less a fad- a cause that the so-called social media intellectuals convince themselves they need to address. Just like the word Sapiosexual ( I swear I will punch the next self proclaimed ‘Sapiosexual’. Just admit you surround yourself with dull people and as such are always surprised when you actually see an intelligent person).

The simple truth is, I do not like it when women are excused for incompetence and inadequacies because of their gender. Or when you show some sign of genuine intelligence you are gazed upon with absolute amazement and wonder- like a break-dancing 3- legged hippo.

That’s when you hear statements like- ‘Why should you learn how to change a light bulb?’ or my personal favourite- ‘You don’t need to get a good degree since you’ll marry someone who will be taking care of you!

The worst part is that some guys associate intelligence with having a strong personality. They think that they wont be able to control such a person and eventually run away to settle with a rubber necked barbie doll who periodically spits out DUH! at any and everything but possesses the very important quality of agreeing to Everything the man says.

Whatever your definition of my opinions ( feminist, fussy or just plain quarrelsome), hopefully in the not so distant future people will begin to adjust their attitudes.

2014: The Review

Its the last day of the year!!!! I’m not even sure what i’m more excited about though. Leaving a year that started out horrible or anticipating what 2015 will bring. Well obviously the ‘new year, new me‘ cliche can‘t start out before taking stock of the highs and lows 2014 and documenting what I learned along the way. So, here we go ( drum rolls please!).

1) Evolution of friendships
I lost quite a few friends in 2014. Was i hurt by it? Yes! Have I moved on? Definitely! But most importantly I’ve learned lessons. I’ve grown into myself and i’m more confident of the person I am.

2) Taking responsibilities
I got two jobs this year. Jobs I had no training in whatsoever and I basically had to wing it. Wake up at times I’d normally be snoozing and get back to my room bone tired. In one case, I was working and writing exams simultaneously. Honestly, I used to be scared of what life after school would be like. Not knowing the path set for you and jumping into the unknown head first. But I’d like to think that the small experience I got this year has prepared me for way more than even I can imagine.

3) The loss of my Grandfather
We were all pretty close to my maternal grandfather. He ALWAYS called us at least once a month and birthdays weren’t complete until he called. I will certainly miss him a lot. Especially since I missed the funeral because I had a test that day.
4) Realizing love is pretty overrated
I had a bad habit. Comparing my relationship with those of others. Finding faults with my partner and acting out towards him. I wanted our relationship to conform with the crazy, emotion filled ones i’d had in the past. But I realised that friendship is the glue of every relationship. Being able to put aside your feelings for someone and still make logical decisions. As i was writing this, it hit me. My so called ‘imperfect’ relationship has lasted the longest so far. It has certainty taught me patience, understanding and most of all to be less selfish.

5) Re-affirming the notion that FAMILY IS EVERYTHING!!!!
There is no need for long analogies or stories. My family has gotten me through so much. Not just in 2014, but throughout my life. I do not think i know people half as fortunate as i am in that regard. I can only keep being thankful.

) Adopting the Serenity Prayer as my mantra

This was something i did on the last day of 2014! I’ll let you know how it worked out in my 2015 review!

There is so much I could go on and on about but I think these are the most important
So now to hoping and praying that 2015 is the year of exceeded expectations! Bye and see you in 2015
Xoxo.

Mr Jones – Chapter 2

Tayo clutched his arm in a futile attempt to stop the blood that was gushing out of the gunshot wound. He realized he had underestimated the lengths their captor would go just to ensure total compliance. He shouldn’t have risen to the bait that quickly; giving his shooter the satisfaction of seeing him in pain and no more closer to finding an escape route than before he was incapacitated.

Doc turned around and whispered briefly to the men who had accompanied him in. They whispered furiously back, obviously not happy with whatever instructions Doc had given them but nevertheless left through the solitary door in the room.

‘Well gentlemen, we’d better put that unpleasantness behind us and make some progress so we can go our separate ways’ said Doc after staring at the closed door for a few minutes.
He was about to say something else when the old pot- bellied man spoke up for the first time. ‘How did you trace the keys to us, he said in a husky accent-less voice.

The look of pleasure on Doc’s face showed his elation at being asked that particular question. ‘It seems the old adage- money is the root of all evil- is very true,’ said Doc. ‘For the right price, any man can be bought. Even if he seems like the most loyal of men. Suffice is to say, I found such a person, and his price appears to be worth every penny.”I’m not so sure your mole is very accurate however,’ countered the Old Man. ‘If he was, he would have corrected a rather common mistake made by many.

The Old Man knew exactly what this kidnapping situation was about. He had figured it out the minute Doc had launched into his ‘little story’. Although it saddened him that it had all come down to this necessary betrayal, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of ‘Olu Jones’- the key thief. ‘I kept my end of the bargain, but no deal is worth risking my life for,’ said the Old Man to himself.        

‘Mr Shagari as I said, the information I have from my source is very accurate. But please tell me what particular information you think I have that is inaccurate. I’m pretty sure we can figure out the real thing eventually,’ replied Doc. ‘Well, I might have taken the name ‘Shagari’ about 10 years ago, said the Old Man. But up until 5 years ago I went by my father’s name- Jones.’
There was a moment of stunned silence which was broken by Sotonye. ‘So, Olu Jones is related to you?’, he said. ‘Or better still, is he your son?

Shagari played with his nails a little, enjoying the feeling of knowing something the others apparently didn’t. Not even Doc who claimed to be some kind of omniscient king pin. When he felt he had drawn their patience put long enough, he answered Sotonye’s question.
Olu Jones isn’t a man, she is a woman! And before you ask how I know I’ll tell you. Olu Jones was born Olufunke Jones here in Lagos over 30 years ago and I am her father! Shagari allowed a brief triumphant smile as he noted the shocked look on Doc’s face.

Why I love ‘Lagos Rain’

Lagos is experiencing yet another round of downpour in this rainy season due to the prevalent south-western Monsoon winds( my Geography teacher would be so proud right now). All things attached to this boisterous city are tough in line with its ‘hustler’ image, and the rain is no different.

Lagos Rain (LR) is hardworking, resilient and constantly looking for ways to re-brand itself. This contrasts with its wimpy London cousin, London Rain, which is too lazy to release heavy downpours and instead settles for depressing and unnecessary clouds in the sky (probably the reason for those stiff upper lips the Brits are so famous for), LR is known for its torrential downpours which quickly transform the tiniest puddle into the set of the Titanic movie.
Well, there are many reasons to love Lagos Rain, but here are my favourites:
1) LR has a sense of humour- Yep! I’m pretty convinced about this. Why else would a heavy downpour disappear in seconds and even find a way to let some rays of sunlight through- when you are under a shelter, but the minute you leave and are in a stretch of open ground it starts again leaving you drenched in seconds. It even laughs at you with thunder, probably thinking to itself- hehehe, gotcha!
2) LR hates laundry- Well I guess we have one thing in common then. * covers face* LR will allow you pile your clothes up and fool you into thinking that its going to take a day off active duty. Then when you have everything dripping on the line, LR will promptly take its cue and let the showers fall. Sometimes it is nice enough to throw in some wind just so your clothes will fall down and thwart your efforts. Of course the consequence is simple-  walking around with a Tarzan-esque loin cloth to cover your nether regions or damning everybody’s eyes and going ‘commando’.
3) It makes you painfully aware of your ‘Leg-edes benz’. No matter how much we complain about how driving in Lagos is stressful and the incessant traffic jams are annoying, LR quickly changes your mind about having a car. Watching those lucky bastards zoom off in their car while drenching you further, when their tires fling water off the roads to add salt to your open wound can be very frustrating.

After all these I have to be thankful that even if  Lagos Rain has more ‘fire’ than London Rain, it is certainly no match for Chinese Province Rain, or worse, Mumbai Rain whose destructive powers are legendary. If it was, the title of this post would be ‘Why I hate Lagos Rain’.

The Deal Breaker…..

He is short. She is boring. He has bad breath. She has small breasts. He smokes. He doesn’t have ambitions.
Yep, I’ve heard quite a lot of those comments about Significant Others these days. That one trait or quality that just can’t be overlooked no matter how hard you try and subsequently leads to the end of an otherwise fantastic relationship. The weirdest one had to be ‘ he presses the toothpaste tube in the middle’ from a close friend of mine when she finally admitted why she had started ignoring her boyfriend’s calls. I was like –  ‘WHAT???? That’s your reason for leaving him? That annoys me as well but then we all have our quirks. How do u know he doesn’t secretly hate your laugh?’ ( she laughs like a donkey on high grade Marijuana) Of course my friend just rolled her eyes and pretended I’d just spoken Swahili.

The fact is that we are supposed to accept that our S/O will have at most 80% of what we want in a partner ( Biko why 80%? More like 60%… or maybe I have ridiculously high standards 50% even). In any case, in line with this number we start constructing our scales of preference of qualities, with tall,dark and handsome God–fearing, kind and highly driven at the top of most female lists and big booty, big booty, BIG BOOTAY fertile, intelligent and well mannered topping male lists. However even with all these, there are usually those tiny traits that over-shadow the rest. These sometimes small but mighty traits are called Deal Breakers.

That nice guy who loves reading books, traveling and is well spoken but picked the unlucky struggle of being short. Or the beautiful lady from your home town with the Msc whom your mother gets along with wonderfully that can’t boil an egg let alone make ofe nsala with stock fish and fufu; despite your numerous attempts at teaching her. Or yet again the powerful trio of Age, Tribe and Religion which have been the downfall of many a relationship. However with the new statistics of female to male ratio in the world at nearly 2:1, one wonders if women won’t eventually have to further cut down their list to ‘fully teethed and alive’.

I think most of my family and friends know exactly what the deal breaker for me would be ( if not, please refer to my post titled ‘GBAGAUN’). I’d like to hear what other deal breakers are and if any of the above mentioned ones are also widely accepted.
Toodles! XOXO!

THE THIN LINE BETWEEN PAIN AND PLEASURE

Jessica met Tony in her first year in the university. Barely 17, the prospect of dating a 21 year old 300L student was not only exciting but adventurous for her. Tony was very handsome, well dressed and a smooth talker. He usually held audiences captive when he spoke and the pride Jessica felt when she was on Tony’s arms was mind blowing. Not only was he all this; he was very caring and put her needs above his most of the time. Her friends constantly reminded her of her good fortune in landing a guy like Tony and warned her to do anything she could to keep him.
After about three months into the relationship Tony started pleading with her to sleep over in his house. She’d gone there a couple of times but always went back to her room on campus to sleep at night. Jessica asked her for her friends’ opinions but they all saw nothing wrong with it. The next day she agreed to spend the weekend in his house. Of course Tony was successful in convincing her to have sex with him and the guilt she felt was crushing. Eventually she reasoned that she was a ‘big girl’ now and had to act more maturely.
Sure enough she started sleeping over in Tony’s house more often and finally just moved in with him. At first things were rosy for a while but shortly before their first year anniversary Tony’s attitude towards her changed. He started talking to her rudely, went out for long hours and staggered in drunk late at night. Jessica felt she’d done something wrong and kept trying to be more affectionate. This only annoyed Tony more and he even progressed with his bad behaviour to actually beating Jessica. She couldn’t tell anybody that Tony was doing all this because nobody would believe her. How could charming Tony hurt a fly much less beat his girlfriend. Jessica continued to endure until the unthinkable happened. She got pregnant!
For two days Jessica walked on eggshells trying to figure out how to break the news to Tony. One night she saw he was in a fairly good mood and she sat next to him. Nervous, she told him of the situation. Tony was quiet for a while and Jessica asked him to say what was on his mind. He simply told her to get rid of it, stood up and left the house. He didn’t come back that night. Jessica managed to call her cousin who was able to help her find a clinic for the abortion. A week later Jessica went through the procedure. The ordeal was not only painful but also humiliating. It also served as a wake up call for Jessica and she promptly ended it with Tony.
Unfortunately as she was to discover 6 years later- her attempts at getting pregnant after she got married proved futile- the doctor who performed the abortion had damaged her womb rendering her infertile. She was now unable to escape her past relationship with Tony and its consequences.

* * * * * *
This story can be viewed as both fiction and non fiction. Many ‘Jessica’s are going down this same path everyday in universities and in some cases secondary schools in Nigeria and all over the world. What can this phenomenon be blamed on? Immaturity? Naïveté? Mis-information? Perhaps it’s the fact that so many parents worry more about being strict with their children than discovering the kind of situations they are dealing with emotionally.
Maybe its time for parents to start cultivating a friendship between them and their children which would allow the opportunity for frank discussions and reduce the risk of the ensuing consequences of unhealthy relationships.

Mr Jones – Chapter I

Sotonye Dickson – Mr custom suit, had declared his intentions of being a professional footballer at the age of 8. His parents however had other ideas. His mother hoped he’d follow in the footsteps of her brother and become a priest, while his father wanted him to be a banker. In the end, nobody got their wish as a series of events led to Tonye studying law and becoming a rather brilliant lawyer; not that his parents would ever publicly admit it.
He rose through the ranks of his law firm and quickly became the youngest partner in its history. His office was located on Allen Avenue and it was the need to clear his desk before 10am that necessitated the early trip to the office. For some reason however his two week old 3 million Naira Toyota SUV had refused to start and his wife had left with the other car. Swallowing his pride, Tonye walked to the bus stop and was prepared to take a BRT bus when to his annoyance he saw a long line of commuters ahead of him, also waiting to board the buses as they arrived. He joined the slow moving queue and was already frantic when he discovered it was 8:30, just as a danfo bus parked in front of him with three male passengers in it. When the driver shouted ‘Maryland’ he didn’t hesitate to board the bus but was surprised when the men inside quickly locked the door and subdued him when he tried to stand up. The last thing he saw was a huge fist that connected with the side of his head and knocked him out cold.
At least 3 hours had passed since then and Tonye was sure that his most important client – and the reason for him clearing his desk- would probably have come and gone. The implications of missing that meeting sent shivers down his spine as he remembered the penalty. In the three years since the man had become his client he had never cancelled their standing Monday at 10am meetings but Tonye couldn’t stop offering up a silent prayer that today would be different.
* * *
‘So gentlemen, said Doc, I hope you will cooperate with us fully and hereby reduce the risk of forceful persuasion.’ He glanced at the man with the bruise who had replaced a poker face with one showing belligerence. ‘Now let me tell you a little story. Two years ago 3 keys were stolen from me. The keys are worthless without the single box they open so the thief separated the keys, biding the time he could get his hands on the box.’
‘I tried to get the keys back of course, and I would have succeeded if not for a rather over zealous bodyguard. To cut the story short, the
thief gave the keys to people who he thought were trustworthy enough- You Gentlemen.’
There was silence in the room until it was broken by Mr Bruised Face- Tayo Adepoju. ‘É wo! E wò ni gbo gbo wanran wanran yi’? ( what sort of rubbish is this?) he shouted in Yoruba, a language he only delved back into upon provocation. Having spent four years trying to shed the ‘street boy’ image he had developed after spending years as an agbero (hooligan) in Mushin, he didn’t want to be forced into old habits. He forced a rein on his temper and switched to English, albeit with a strong south western Nigerian accent. ‘What do u want from me. I don’t know you and I don’t know what stupid key you are talking about. Just let me go!’
‘But Tayo, replied Doc, when you left the garage and the name Suraju Alada Nla behind, surely you knew you would have to pay your benefactor back eventually. He gave you the golden opportunity and you grabbed it with both hands. A pity your whore of a mother didn’t leave with you though.’ Tayo lunged at Doc wanting to grab his throat and choke him for daring to insult his mother but Doc was faster, dodging Tayo’s hand and simultaneously reaching into his own pocket. The other men seated at the table winced at the sound of the gun shot and sat down tighter, not wanting to also be at the receiving end of the silver gun.
Doc removed a white handkerchief from his trouser pocket and cleaned off the blood that had sprayed his face. ‘I did warn you about unwilling cooperation and forceful persuasion’ he said, with his lips set in a grim line.