I Am Nigeria

I am the star formerly known as the giant of Africa. Those days are long gone now. Used and abused, my glory has departed. I have survived a great deal of developmental regression. Is a renaissance possible after 5 long decades of deprivation & disease? Isn’t it just nonsensical that I am still battling with the bacterium Vibrio Cholerae & now home-made bombs?

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Age is nothing but a number, they say, but time is the factor that has happened to me & has taken a chance on me. Over the years, a good number of my people have left me in search of greener pastures; not all of them will find it greener but most will settle-in well with the ordinary lushness of foreign lands. I blame them not for I may not have given them hope enough to stay. I only pray I don’t lose the dear ones that are still abiding to the devices of hostage takers and explosives.

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I am now of the people by the people & for the people. I am my people. Mine has been quite a difficult life despite my priceless resources. I have been in the messiest relationships, going from one bad to another. My presidents have continually screwed me over, through & through.

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I’ve been there, done that & bought the tee shirt which is now stained with oil & with blood. Like an interminable rollercoaster, I relive the days spent. I have fought a war. I have hosted festivals. I have been stripped, raped & beaten. I have borrowed, & then borrowed again. I have been afflicted & impregnated. I have had children. I have had several abortions too, likewise miscarriages. I still had more children & I want to borrow some more. I have been frustrated & deep down in the depths of despair. I should have died but my people have been praying.

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Dear God consider our fervent supplication, we pray.

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I didn’t do these things to myself; some of you did it to me. Guilty as charged, it’s not up for debate. You know yourselves. My program got structurally adjusted and it became either upper class or economy. My poverty is not only of the mind, it is of the pockets of my people. My poor resilient folk; all they ask for is light. Please let there be light.

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My people let us take the bull by the horns. We shall all come out & we shall vote, & our votes must be counted. Our voices must be heard. We can make it work, whether they like it or not.

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My past & present leaders should be made to bear the repercussion of their actions. You can’t leave me with no petrol & in abject penury and then walk free. There’s no free lunch in Freetown. Once beaten twice shy. I have had enough of the prejudice & the selective judgements. All perpetrators of wickedness must be brought to book. We must live right, & devoid of any more sorrow, tears or blood. I am fed-up of all your cocktail & bullshit tales of bygone years, it is still fresh on our minds. We want equal rights & justice.

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Arise o’compatriots. The time is now. Rise up. Save me, save you, save our country.

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Long live the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

Nigeria@50_Day Eleven_Arise O’Compatriots

Yesterday on Nigeria@50 Day 10 - Spesh'sWorld

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I am the star formerly known as the giant of Africa. Those days are long gone now. Used and abused, my glory has departed. I have survived a great deal of developmental regression. Is a renaissance possible after 5 long decades of deprivation & disease? Isn’t it just nonsensical that I am still battling with the bacterium Vibrio Cholerae?

.

Age is nothing but a number, they say, but time is the factor that has happened to me & has taken a chance on me. Over the years, a good number of my people have left me in search of greener pastures; not all of them will find it greener but most will settle-in well with the ordinary lushness of foreign lands. I blame them not for I may not have given them hope enough to stay. I only pray I don’t lose the dear ones that are still abiding to the devices of hostage takers and explosives.

.

I am now of the people by the people & for the people. I am my people. Mine has been quite a difficult life despite my priceless resources. I have been in the messiest relationships, going from one bad to another. My presidents have continually screwed me over, through & through.

.

I’ve been there, done that & bought the tee shirt which is now stained with oil & with blood. Like an interminable rollercoaster, I relive the days spent. I have fought a war. I have hosted festivals. I have been stripped, raped & beaten. I have borrowed, & then borrowed again. I have been afflicted & impregnated. I have had children. I have had several abortions too, likewise miscarriages. I still had more children & I want to borrow some more. I have been frustrated & deep down in the depths of despair. I should have died but my people have been praying.

.

Dear God consider our fervent supplication, we pray.

.

I didn’t do these things to myself; some of you did it to me. Guilty as charged, it’s not up for debate. You know yourselves. My program got structurally adjusted and it became either upper class or economy. My poverty is not only of the mind, it is of the pockets of my people. My poor resilient folk; all they ask for is light. Please let there be light.

.

My people let us take the bull by the horns. We shall all come out & we shall vote, & our votes must be counted. Our voices must be heard. We can make it work, whether they like it or not.

.

My past & present leaders should be made to bear the repercussion of their actions. You can’t leave me in abject penury & walk free. There’s no free lunch in Freetown. Once beaten twice shy. I have had enough of the prejudice & the selective judgements. All perpetrators of wickedness must be brought to book. We must live right, & devoid of any more sorrow, tears or blood. I am fed-up of all your cocktail & bullshit tales of bygone years, it is still fresh on our minds. We want equal rights & justice.

.

Arise o’compatriots. The time is now. Rise up. Save me, save you, save our country.

.

Long live the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

~

Tomorrow on Nigeria@50 Day 12 - Flygirl

Domestically Official

It was a regular Thursday morning at the office, and we had congregated in one office chatting rowdily about nothing in particular, from the lack of electricity in the country to the hawkers on bootlegged porn DVDs on the streets to nonsensically high costs of primary school fees.

The air was alive with everyone anticipating the weekend and the public holiday slated for the following Monday.

We all heard the noise coming from my boss’s office so we went silent in a moment and turned in the direction of the secretariat. She was bawling loudly and talking at the same time and he was trying to pacify her.

I didn’t think a contractor would be in our office this early or would be over-the-top as such so I guessed my boss’s wife had brought their domestic misdemeanours to his office because it was something that she could do.

At this time, Ify, his assistant secretary was heading to us as we looked on towards the source of the commotion.

“Where is Mr.Ebi, his wife is in oga’s office” she said

Ebitari was at his desk relishing his breakfast of fried yam, akara and fried eggs when Tam tells him to report immediately to the manager’s office.

“Ebi, e don happen oh. E be like say you don commit. Your madame dey oga office”

“My wife?” Mr.Ebi asked with surprise

“She’s relaying all your transgressions to the manager” Tam added

“What? This woman is cruising for another bruising” he said smiling but obviously enraged

Then he stormed off towards the secretariat. We all followed.

We pulled the door to shut it as Ebi entered the office but left it slightly open, so we stood around silently trying to listen to the conversation going on inside before my boss’s secretary, Doris, filled us in on what she had heard so far.

Ebitari had beaten his wife and she seemed like she was hit by a runaway train seeing that he was a very physically strong man. Apparently this was not the first time, in the past she had been almost hospitalised after a good pounding from him. All this was news to me, Mr.Ebitari Peters who wore a smile most of the time, was one of the happier people we had in the department. Unlike me, most of the office folk had never seen him express anger, least of violence.

We could hear her talk to her husband insolently in front of the boss when he refused to answer the queries thrown at him, insisting that she should leave the premises and go home. This was before the door got kicked shut to our faces and eavesdropping ears so we moved away to resume our analysis of this brand new suspenseful episode.

I had met Mrs. Peters at a colleague’s child’s birthday bash and she gave off a certain vibe though there was hearsay about her undying belligerence. Now, it was to be confirmed.

I only hoped the boss was not going to fan the flames of by trying to be a judge. I am far from being impressed by his judgement of quarrels between us subordinates least of all a staff’s domestic issue that has not business in our office.

Tam who was Ebi’s closest friend in the department gave us a sneak peek into the private life of Mr.Ebi, telling us how she had been the most insecure, aggressive and disrespectful wife to her husband and how he had borne it for years.

However, she had brought their issues to his manager, knowing that Ebitari held him in high regard.

Besides my feeling for Mrs.Peters as regards what will happen to her at home for attempting to make a public spectacle of her husband, I sincerely refuse to bother with the consequences of this performance; nonetheless, I am concerned with why this issue should be brought to the office.

This is West Africa (Nigeria) and the society thinks and acts indifferently towards domestic violence than if it was Europe or America. Do our work ethics (if any) allow the use of company time and space for the settlement of such domestic issues?

Rantings IV

Who the hell are these guys on radio, (Rhythm 93.7FM) that probably entered airplanes for the first times in their lives when they started working yet speak with accents that have no roots? The collective enunciation bears a semblance with a crossbreed of Mauritania and Afghanistan? Do they think they are Americans because overnight they learnt how to use the word, “holla” in a sentence?

Z

What is the justification for driving like a senseless bastard, breaking traffic laws and running other drivers off the road, simply because you have Army officers as passengers?

Z

Why can’t NEPA understand that after a hard-day’s work, we want to come back home and just chill? Sometimes, do nothing fantastic but utilize the simple basic appliances we own, such as our whirlpool bathtubs, washing machines, massage chairs, oops sorry for the mix up, I mean, televisions, air conditioners, and electric kettles.etc. For as long as I can remember, I have not been able to understand why we have power outages in NIGERIA, (Giant of Africa, my ass). It kills me every single time the light goes out. Why the hell did they just take the light. Is this a zoo?

Z

When is the Rivers State Government going to rid our streets of these damn beggars, especially the ones that assault we drivers with pictures of old sores/fresh looking wounds or most times the actual patients displaying their decayed/decaying sores embalmed with gentian violet?

Z

Why do these people that think because they call me Sir, they can just wake up one day and relay their problems to me in search of financial solutions. Strangers, as far as I am concerned, whose surnames I can’t know or even bother to. Call me mean but when I don’t have, I DON’T HAVE.

Right now, I’m not particularly excited about anything, so I will pause here. To be continued shortly.

1st October 1960...& beyond

As we commemorate with the fatherland (abi na motherland?), we pray to & beseech Almighty GOD for

Righteousness
Wisdom
Understanding
Morality
Ethical Dealings
National Reformation
Resource Management Skills
Debt Free Living
Vision
Educational Superiority
Cultural Blessings
Financial Authenticity
Technological Advancement
Security
& Self Sustenance

…Peace, Love and Progress for our Beloved NAAAIIIIIJJAAH

48 GBOZAS for our Great NIGERIA!!!

LONG LIVE THE FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF NIGERIA

PHONE IV - contd

Tryst II

She crossed her legs as she sat on one of the two seats in my room, and then rummaged through her bag for a moment or two before emerging with some chewing gum and offered me one. Rising to her feet and telling me for the umpteenth time how hot it was in Nigeria, she took her jacket off revealing the rest of the bottle green tube top she had on, and the source of the heaving cleavage. Sitting on the bed, I stretch leaning on the headboard a few feet away smiling as my heart missed a beat or two from seeing her full figure.

“You’re not always like this, are you? Very nice and warm” she asked smiling
“Hmmm, warm! I say no more, you are yet to find out” I tell her, flashing my legendary not guilty look.

I loved the way her eyes turned into two horizontal furry slits whenever she laughed, showing off a set of impeccably white teeth. Her dentition that seemed like a set from a cosmetic dentist’s catalogue was covered with full very African looking lips. My mouth watered for the taste of it.

She had a rich laughter and seemed to be in a merry mood, laughing at almost everything I said, she had earlier said something about loving my sense of humour and finding me very amusing. If she was just flirting whenever she passed me a compliment was not for me to determine, I was loving the attention. Gradually, our conversation crept into more sensual issues and I tried very hard to be civil all along.

There was something about this girl that brought the butterflies. I had this urge to lunge at her, take all her clothes off in a hurry and do to her as I pleased. We then went into how it was nice meeting each other and then she confirmed the original outing for the next day, Friday. I suggested that we would go listen to some real good live music somewhere at the big mall on Lekki Expressway and promised it was going to be exciting. But not as exciting as what followed in the next few moments.

She sat up in the chair and held my head as I crawled up to her on my knees and positioned my kneeling self in-between her legs. As her soft wet lips merged with mine, my blood flow split in two ways, one rushed into my heart and the other into my pants causing an instant rock hard erection. Her tongue tasted better than I thought it would, searching the insides of her mouth obsessively. She smelt good even as she tenderly sucked my lower lip and I gently nibbled on her upper lip. I ran my hands down her waistline holding her firmly feeling her curves, and then running it back up under her top. The smoothness of her skin sent my rockets to the sky. It had been ages since I felt such heat from a stranger.

The excitement increasingly becoming unbearable, I start to rise to my feet. With her legs wrapped around my waist I lift her from the chair and balance us on my feet. As much Kama Sutra as I knew, I stand with us in the position for a bit longer kissing away at the tenderness of her neck just before I undo her bra strap with my left hand. I feel her full hardened breasts break free from the stronghold then I lay her lightly on the bed.

Pulling her vest upwards towards her breasts with my teeth, I kiss away at her belly as she moans softly then she exhales rumbling as I lick her navel. I think I heard her say ‘stop’ before she let out a big guttural sound as I ran my lips millimetres away from her erect nipple as I licked the hardness of the smooth skin of her left breast. A pleasant smell caught my attention as I moved to her right breast, all along dodging the nipple. She attempted to catch my head and place it on her nipple but I held her arms back to the sides on her head making her assume the ‘I surrender’ position.

As I bruised her nipple with my lower lip, I let the warm air from my mouth grace it and it crinkled still. It tasted hard and that felt good. She let out a muffled groan of relief as I sucked on it gently. She responded more as I sucked harder and moved to the other breast. I loved the way she was reaching for me and grabbing my head. I moved away from her reach and went down towards her belly button again. I bite her side just by her waist making her twist and moaning loudly.

She suddenly sits upright catching my hands as I unzipped her trousers.
“Please stop” she begged
“Let’s jump in the bath. Warm or cold whichever way you want it” I say not wanting to leave this scene half done
Wittily she retorted “I’m not sure both of us can fit in it, and I think someone is at the door”
“At this time? I’m not getting it, let the person go home”. Then I hear my name and distressed rapping on the door. Seeing Eve through the peephole looking like she was not in the mood to be turned away caught me off guard and I started going limp.

I opened the door for her after we had hurriedly rearranged our clothes and Nma had sat and crossed her legs back on the seat. She told me she was not happy and needed to talk to and be with someone and that was why she was in my room. Clad in a loose t-shirt, joggers and slippers, she tried to lose the gloomy look when I introduced both of them, then she gave Nma a hug before sitting on the bed.

At the time Nma stood up to leave. We started kissing again and said goodbye in the parking lot just before the hotel taxi drove off. I watched them drive away and I went back upstairs.