Hungry Fire

Like most children, I was very curious. I questioned everything and didn’t stop until I got answers. Satisfactory answers. That also meant I was foolish and impulsive; like when I ‘questioned’ how adults defecated (did it come through the same hole as mine? Was it sometimes painful too?) and played ‘investigator’ by peeping through a crevice in the toilet door while Uncle Sam, who had come visiting, was using it.

We Are Here For All of Us

We visited the Adigun’s.

To Ben, it was just another doctor-patient congratulatory visit.

It was a delight to accompany him as I hadn’t socialized in a while.

In the end, it turned out to be with an ‘eye-opener’ of sorts.

Georgia talked about Post-partum depression, how she almost got ‘infected’ by another then-pregnant woman but ‘rejected’ it. I couldn’t help chuckling: ‘infected’ as if it were communicable. And rejected? I pinched myself to ‘ingest’ my laughter.

Ben got into the ‘mood’ and ‘juiced’ out all he knew about the disorder. I get upset when he does that: revolve everything around his profession. I wondered if Georgia felt the same.

As they chatted away, BJ and I cocooned ourselves in another world.

As I cradled him in my arms, I thought about nothing else but his serene gentility. His eyelashes were a mini-version of his dark silky hair. Here in my arms was this fragile thing metamorphosing into something unknown.

He smelt new: fresh, clean, untainted and perfect. If he were a piece of cake, only grains of flour would’ve remained of him.

I didn’t want to touch his skin with my fingers, I thought it sinful. Like he’ll get sick ‘rejecting’ the ‘infection’ from my ‘germified’ fingers.

‘It is okay to touch him’ Ben said, ‘you transfer microbes that fight infections and diseases’.

Wasn’t he just speaking with Georgia? What’s with doctors and aproko?

…’his sense of touch is ‘trained’ too’.

‘Really?’ that was Georgia. The instant I heard that, I knew it was a mistake.

It was all Ben needed to lecture her on the importance of tactile communication between mother and child and what not.

I ‘tuned’ him off and focused on BJ, enjoying the warmth our bodies emitted for one another.

I hummed an ‘I love you’ lullaby to him, my croon so low I couldn’t even hear myself. BJ must have enjoyed it because his eyes graced me like I was a piece of creamy chocolate.

More lectures and some minutes later, we were on our way home. I was reluctant to let go of BJ because I wanted to, no needed to solidify the bond we just created.

Georgia said I could come by anytime to ‘touch’ him. I gleefully accepted the offer.

We rode across Okene bridge, the persistent chant of industrious hawkers mingling with Ben’s favorite track: Alicia Keys’ ‘We are here for all of us’.

‘Aunty, buy Gala na only #50 o!,(*music*we-are-here-for-all-of-us) Oga, buy for your wife, na only #50′(we-are-for-all-of-us)(oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh…)

Money changed hands and I savored the tasty snack alone as Ben feigned dis-interest. As my teeth churned at the snack, I started thinking about BJ again.

How much he needed external forces to survive: shelter, food, touch… the same way I needed this snack to satisfy my hunger, the same way Ben re-filled the car tank at a petrol station, same way we needed Efrebo to open the gate as we drove into our home. Then it hit me!

We really are products of environment. Everything we are comes from without.

Our deepest emotions, our thoughts, desires, personality, diction, dress sense, etc are influenced by what we see, hear, perceive, smell and feel.

As simple as that analysis sounds, it is also complex.

Know why?

Because humanity is confused. Everyday, we are bombarded with quotes, movies, songs, poems, comics, books and photos throwing bouquets at individuality, independent-thinking, self-expression, self-praise, self-everything.

We are often told how special we are(some parents are not as generous though), how grateful the world must be to have us and all.

If you as much as hint otherwise, you become the Enemy. Heck, the handles on Twitter will ‘handle’ you, and send you packing!

While I am not of the mediocre-be-like-your-mates school of thought, I am certainly not overjoyed with the noise made for narcissism and me-ism. It is NOT all about ME! We NEED people to survive: an indisputable fact of nature.

Doesn’t Facebook exists because Zuckerberg copied Barners-Lee’s HTML codes to creates web pages?

‘But I invented the light bulb’, cried Thomas Edison. But, Alessandro Volta’s glowing wire was what you built upon, I reply. You only refined it with carbon, a few other things and yipppeee…there is light!

But, people love duplicacy, some argue: they hate what is, on their terms, not ‘normal’. So that in more ways than one, they shove you into their ‘machine’, mold you and ‘jubilate’ at their just finished tear-rubber product.

Still, we need those people to be ourselves. Foolish dancing to no music eh? I mean, why should I be myself when I alone exist?

You get my drift right? We need people to be different, to be what we want to be.

There’s got to be a balance so that we do not become either of the extremes: confirmed narcissists or blind copyists.

My take? We are created to be interdependent of one another.

BJ needs his mom and I as much we need him. So does the gala man and Efrebo and Ben…and you.

His Thoughts

To: HR@ukohassociates.com
From: JustinFreedom@yahoo.com
Subject: Job Application

Sir,
This is in response to your advert of 12th June, 2013 in the Daily Sun magazine for an Administrative assistant in your Ijebu branch.

Your need for a person with hands-on experience and a quick mind suits me perfectly. I am confident that our partnership will be symbiotic.

Please find attached my credentials.

Yours’ faithfully,
Freedom Justin.

Tolani Finale!

“Never ruin an apology with an excuse.”
― Benjamin Franklin

I love this quote because it reminds me that I have no excuse(s) to make you, yes you, I mean you wait for the last episode of Tolani! I mean, who wouldn’t get upset holding their breaths for what guilt-laden Denrele would say or do? Or whether Tolani would be as forgiving as we would want? So, I am hopelessly sorry for bringing Tolani three Tuesdays late. But I promise, you wouldn’t regret the wait!

Damian was worried. What becomes of Tolani now? Would she ever forgive? He honks loudly and hit the brakes as a child darts across the road. ‘Why on earth would his parents allow him to take the highway?’ he mutters in annoyance. He revs up the engine and continues musing.

Tolani VI

Ofure

When Jason proposed to me, I felt on top of the world. Because we had been dating for a little over three years, everyone had been asking: ‘when is it going to happen?’ in different ways. ‘We wan come chop rice o’ (as if weddings are only about eating and drinking) or ‘una still dey jolly abi?’ (Like we would stop when we got married) ‘You are not getting any younger’ (so you have been keeping tabs?) made the headlines.

Tolani V

“I didn’t think he had a humane side”
“Neither did I, maybe it was on vacation”
“Or even probation”

Their laughter was drowned by the roar of Oga’s engine as he drove away and the noise from the I-big-pass-my-neighbour generator sets of her neighbours.

Nothing is Fair in Copying and Pasting

When I first heard the “All is fair in Love and War” idiom, I wondered why it would be permissible to say, deceive someone on account of love, or to kill anyone in the name of war or love even.

Tolani IV

In the end, Tolani went along with Ofure’s ‘scheme’. She knew it was hypocritical of course, even demeaning and she was scared she might fall for Denrele eventually. But Ofure was in pain: “Tolani please help me, if you really believe that what Denrele did was wicked, please help me” she kept pleading. Tolani would argue: “But we would turn out to be exactly what we hate Denrele for; whatever happened to not repaying evil for evil to anyone?” Ofure would say: “I know about your morals and all but the point is, you and I dislike Denrele, he and I love you, can’t you see that you are our common denominator? Tolani began to prep herself for the adventure.

Tolani

Tolani drives into the parking lot to find her spot occupied. “Wetin come be this kwanu?” she hisses. Perhaps an over-zealous newbie wasn’t properly coached on office rules and all or Damian just wants to flaunt his newest “toy”. “But on a Monday morning?” of all days? She reluctantly parks behind the tear-rubber, eyeing it jealously.

JustFriends

When I was younger, like most girls who went to an all-girls boarding school, I preferred male company to females’. In fact, the older the guys were, the better. I just enjoyed their company better. I often wondered the rationale behind it.