WITH PEOPLE LIKE THIS

"Her mother started to scream in the night. When she got to her mother’s room, she met the woman vomiting blood and immediately, she was rushed to the hospital. Hours later the family was told there will be an operation."

I met OG on June 10, less than a month ago. She had come into the office for an interview to fill the position of Office/Domestic Assistant.

We interviewed her and decided to give her the job and she resumed work Monday, June 15. She was told to bring in her credentials and referee forms, already filled, so her file would be opened. OG was hardworking all right. If I had any problem at all with her, it’s the fact that whenever she spoke to me, I had to strain my ears to hear her, she never speaks loud enough, not even on the day of the interview. We strained to hear her that day also. The only person OG could speak freely and audibly to was my assistance, D, through whom she came to work with us.

I got to the office June 19th and was told by D about OG’s mother’s illness. She was discovered in the night. I consoled OG and told her not to worry that she will be alright.

Later in the day, D came to tell me OG wanted to go check on her mother in the hospital. I said no problem. OG came to me to borrow N100 to use for transport fare. She said she will refund when she returned. I didn’t have a N100 change on me so I gave her N500.

OG said she would be back before the close of work. At 4pm I asked D if she was coming back, he said yes. At 4.30pm, I asked D to call her. She didn’t pick her call. When I was about leaving for home, I collected her phone number from D. He said he would go visit OG and her mother the next day.

Saturday morning, I called D to find out when he was going over to OG’s mum, so we could go together, since I had no idea of the place. D’s phone was switched off. I called OG. She didn’t pick. I tried later in the day, same story. D had forgotten his phone charger in the office.

Monday, she came to work and apologized about Friday. She said her phone was stolen from her. She returned my money to me. I wanted to ask her to keep it, but I didn’t. OG said her mother was still in critical condition and the doctor said she had to be transferred to the University Teaching Hospital, Ibadan for operation. I felt bad because she was feeling down. At a point I asked if she was crying because she looked like it, and I told her not to worry that her mother will be fine. She should trust God.

Tuesday, OG took permission to take her mum to Ibadan. I was in my boss’ office and heard her tell OG that from the description of the illness, it might be a spiritual attack and they should take the woman to MFM for prayers. Even my driver had advised OG that she should go take her mother from the hospital and not waste unnecessary money, that native medicine would cure her. I remember asking OG what exactly was wrong with her mum, and she told me she didn’t know the name of the illness in English. Okay.

She was absent from work on Wednesday, meaning she had gone to Ibadan with her mum. In the evening D told me she called saying she was back in Abeokuta and will come to the office. No show.

Thursday, she was absent from work, and D called the number she used the previous day. The guy who picked said she wasn’t around. On Friday, I told D to go find out what was going on. He didn’t know where she lives, that she had just changed accommodation and was about changing again. What?

Before close of work that day, D told me he got through to her and she said, she didn’t want to work anymore because she wanted to take care of her mother.

I felt there was no problem with that. But courtesy demands she comes into the office to inform my boss. Besides, she signed an agreement of six months probation.

Two days ago, Monday, My boss called me from Lagos. After we finished discussing, she asked after OG and I told her chick said she doesn’t want to work anymore.

My boss said she behaved badly. She asked me to tell D to get her to come in because her agreement contract stated a month notice on either side, or forfeit a month’s salary. So either she gives us notice or she pays a month’s salary. It is the company policy. In the case whereby this isn’t done, D, who brought her, would pay the cash.

D definitely wasn’t happy about the whole thing because OG was his church member. It was that day I knew that the address she gave us was unreal.

Yesterday, I came into the office and a whole lot of drama had occurred.
D told me the night before, he called the guy, whose phone OG uses to call D and begged the guy to take him to where OG lives. On getting there, D met a woman outside and told her he was there to see OG’s mum who is ill.

The woman said she is OG’s mother and she isn’t ill. D was confused. He asked the woman if she wasn’t transferred to Ibadan for operation. Woman said no. Then D told her everything and the woman was screaming. She promised to visit our office next morning to see my boss, which she did and I missed that. According to my boss, OG’s mother is very young and healthy. Why all the lies then?

D later told me that OG asked him for a loan of N10, 000 for her mother’s treatment and he said he didn’t have. So OG went to my boss and that was when my boss told her to take her mum to MFM. And later my boss told me she had planned to give OG N5, 000.

And I kept wondering why she did all that? OG had even moved out of her mother’s house months before. Why tell such lies about your mother who is very alive and healthy? Is she wishing her mother good or bad luck? I’m still in shock.

A Day With Jay Jay Okocha

I have committed the greatest crime against myself. My disappearing acts have become so regular and I know you guys are tired of my apologies.

Na work and time cause am o! I dey tour every nook and cranny of Ogun State as if I be Britney Spears. Anyway, I hope you all have been fine. I will surely do my blog rounds. I know I have missed a lot, so na system I go use meet up.

Me and Rock City and Gbenga Daniels are very fine and looking forward to welcoming another blogger down here to rock with us.

Meanwhile, I met Jay Jay Okocha who turned into Mikel Obi. The drama unfolded one Saturday at Ogba. Me and Mr.'s (I avoided typing caveman because I need an appropriate name. We are not cave people. Abi Bible say the tongue is like fire and what we say tend to become reality. We are not cave people o and I am no longer a militant).

Okay, me and Mr. Uzezi's sister. Hissssssssssss Scratch that. Me and Spezzy's sister (Spezzy used to be Caveman. Now we have a name) had just left a wedding in Ikeja to pick up her wedding gown from 'Bride's and More' (no be advert be this o. But for those getting married soon, Bride's and More is where you should go. It's opposite Mr. Biggs on Allen Avenue, and another is opposite Excellence Hotel, Ogba. The service they render is off the hook and the CEO is so nice and attentive to her brides to be. And they have good IV cards too).

Sorry for my rambling about. We left to Ogba to pick the gown, and on our way to the Allen shop for the other things, we met Jay Jay Okocha. We wanted to navigate away from the Ogba road and met this commotion. Fine Boy Agbero and his people surrounded a Bentley. The Car was so fine I couldn't take my eyes away.

We were wondering why they wouldn't let the car go, and my driver said it was Jay Jay Okocha. Now, why that would catch our attention, I don't know, but we moved on and soon realised the Bentley had been released and was coming behind us. Told the driver to park so the car could go before us. I wanted a good peep at Okocha. As we stopped, Bentley too stopped and parked. We turned our heads, stretched our necks to peep at Jay Jay. The driver said, it wasn't Jay Jay, that it was Mikel Obi. So we were still stretching our necks. What is the difference between Jay Jay and Mikel? They are both footballers and earning thousands of pounds weekly abi? And we haven't seen famous footballers before. So we had no way of knowing if we asked for autograph, pounds will follow. It is possible abi?

While the driver quickly got down from the car and walking towards Jay Jay Mikel, Spezzy's sister and myself were waving frantically, giggling like some pikin i don't know. Next thing the Bentley driver's door opened and Jay Jay Mikel got down. My driver stopped in his track. Almost immediately, a chick got out of the car from behind and started harassing Jay Jay Mikel.

We were such mumus that all we could do was get out of there, drive away to finish our business of the day.

The Agberos stopped the Bentley because the car was fine, and they needed coins. It wasn't Jay Jay or Mikel at all. The guy driving had the bushy Mikel's hair, and dressed the part. But he was just a driver driving his madam and her friend, or oga's madam and her friend out.

I'm sure the two chicks would have wondered what was wrong with us.

 

Formula Four Driver

I have become the most unfaithful blogger, I know. But trusting the family I have here, I am confident of being forgiven, else you won’t be reading this post. Abi?

I sure missed everyone and the style of writing that set each blogger’s post apart from the other. I can’t categorically say that I am back fully to blogging, due to my schedule at work, and a small writing contract I just picked up, and the loads of books waiting to be read, but I’ll do my best.

Okay, let’s get to my latest gist.

One Sunday in church at the car park, my friend had just parked when a Starguard (unit in charge of traffic in church) guy told a woman to park properly, so other cars could be parked. She quickly let down the window and told the guy she wasn’t a formula four driver.

That same day, I got a past message from church and in that sermon there was something about the difference between men and women when they drive, and how a woman would make a three point turn where a man would make just one. And men will be complaining about that. In a nutshell, don’t try to make someone into yourself. People are different. Don’t try to make me into the expert I am yet to become, because I am just a beginner.

This girl here is gradually becoming an Abeokuta chic and I don’t know if I like that at all. Imagine me looking forward to my weekends in Lagos, then weekend comes and just a day in Lagos I can’t wait to get back to Rock City. One major factor for that change is the fear of Okada and containers. And what I feel I might turn into if I don’t flee Lagos and the roads.

The only time I dared to drive outside in Lagos, I bashed my car. I never bash anything for Rock City o, na only ditch I don fall inside, and motor no get scratch o. Common small bash give me scratch. And that scratch turned me into a fine car sadist (excuse the word). Yes. Before, I used to admire fine cars that are obviously new. Now what I do when I see them is look at the body carefully for a scratch. And seeing one just makes my day; a confirmation that we in the club are much.

Nevertheless, that doesn’t make driving in Rock City for a learner any easier. The hills in this town are killing. The sharp bends, corners and alarming slopes on my way, makes Lagos roads a welcome paradise. What’s more, too many people are moving down to Rock City and congesting the roads for me. I love Lagos, but can we leave Lagos and the cars in Lagos so I can drive properly?

Accepted that I no longer am blowing off fan belts just to move a car; my heart still races when I have to go from gear 2 to 3 (I’ve made the mistake of moving from two to five before), after that, I can take you on a ride provided no check points or junctions to stop me sha, especially on a hill, else to move forward again, na back car dey roll go.

I know I will get there. After all, my friend drives a manual and she even travels from Lagos to Asaba, driving herself, and she moves smooth. She no get two heads. Yes, whenever I am about to give up and tell the driver to take over, all I need do, is remind myself of C, and how perfect she is with a manual car, and I get uplifted. And soon enough, while I’m chancing tankers and containers on Lagos roads, I’ll try not to pick up the language of most Lagos drivers.

So, if any of you need a formula four (or is it five) driver, I’ll deliver you safe and sound. My rates are considerate.

All that said, I’m looking for recipes people. I’m trying to acquire the
characteristics of the Calabar woman in the kitchen. Anyone you have please; no matter how simple, don’t assume I know it, just drop it for me. And does anyone know how to prepare any meal with very little of no oil at all? Recipes please.

You all have a blessed week. And did I say my Caveman had to remind me over a month ago that we were a year old? Hmm! A year! No wonder my knees don’t go weak anymore, and all the butterflies in my stomach have died out of hunger for rush.

Ghosts???

When you hear ghosts, what exactly comes to your mind? Does a shiver run through you? Do you get goose pimples? I have watched movies like Ghost and Ghost Daddy before. Real fun, but then when it is real life, it definitely is no fun.

Let me tell you a ghost story.

Been ages I updated. So much to do that typing a post seemed like an additional burden for someone like me whom writing comes to naturally. The Lord will help me.

It was a beautiful day once upon a time. Really can’t remember the day of the week, and I had boarded an Oshodi bound coaster bus from Agboju, or Festac 2nd gate, along Badagry express way. And just as we were about to move, someone realised it was a straight bus, and because he had to stop before Oshodi, he begged to be let off. Trust passengers to talk all they want and ask if he was deaf when the conductor was singing Oshodi straight.

He got off, and because we were still at the bus stop, someone else entered and took his place. As we were about to move again, a woman from the back hollered she had to get off. Now the confusion in the bus started.

She begged and even offered to pay, despite the fact that the bus had not moved. Someone said she should be let of quick, since she offered to pay.

So she came down. We don’t know if she paid. And we didn’t move immediately because the conductor suddenly disappeared.

When he reappeared, he was laughing. He told who ever cared to listen, that the woman got off because she saw someone through the window. And when she got close to the guy, she packed sand from the ground and threw it at the surprised guy she obviously knew, and started screaming and crying that she was told he had died. Obviously, was he a ghost, maybe the sand would have made him disappear.

As we moved on towards Oshodi, I just knew I had another blog material. Actually, this really isn’t what I am supposed to blog about. It isn’t the turn of the ghost post, but I just need to get it out and away. I really have lots to blog about o! Should I do it all together, it will be so random, and probably will be the longest post ever to be blogged in the history of blogville.

I have become so crazed, that any little thing that happens around me, I just smile and say ‘I will blog about this’. I have used this phrase so much that my siblings now ask me if it is everything that happens around me that I blog.

To an extent the answer is yes, because when this next event occurred, I knew I was including it in my ghost post.

It is hard to say for sure where I was coming from; I really can’t remember that clearly. But again, I was in a coaster bus (I should stop entering these buses except the ones in my church). We were on the road that leads to Alaba International Market, Ojo. There was a bit of traffic, and I figured I could kill two birds with a damn stone, so I quickly alighted, leaving my bag on my seat and ran down the road to see someone in a shop. The traffic was a standstill, and I was sure to get back on the bus before it moved. So engrossed I was that I didn’t realise the traffic was free, and by the time I noticed, the bus was way ahead. Christ! My bag!

I stopped a bike, and told him to follow the bus. So the chase began. We chased the bus all the way out of the road into an empty road that led to a vast opening of land, we got to a gate and the bike said he couldn’t go in, and because the bus was stopping, I got off and went in through the gate, running to catch up with the bus. Just a few feet from the bus, it disappeared. And I saw my bag on the ground, resting on a bed of sand.

Yes. The bus disappeared before my eyes, and my bag, with a fall, hit the sand. Trying to comprehend what has happened as I bent to retrieve my bag, I noticed it. My bag was on a grave. I was standing on a grave. The name indicated a woman’s grave. The bus driver had been a lady. And every other person in the bus, just like her, were ghosts and they were returning to their home, the cemetery.

I was in a cemetery. And from then on, it appeared as though that particular lady driver of the bus always came around to play with me and friends. We knew she was dead, and it didn’t bother us. At some point, I woke up. It was a dream, and it was a kind of dream I have never had in my life. And it was still the middle of the night, so I prayed. I cancelled the spirit of death from around me and friends and loved ones. I prophesied long life for my loved ones and friends, I committed everyone into the hands of God. And I felt calm and I went back to sleep.

If it was you, what would you have done?

I have come to understand a truth as I continually grow in my faith and relationship with God. Visions come in different ways, mostly through dreams. We have the power to stop something negative from happening in our lives if we open our mouths and pray and prophesy because as the bible says, what we bind on earth is bind in heaven, and what we loose on earth is loose in heaven.

Being a Christian doesn’t automatically translate into not praying and not asking and not seeking, because we feel God knows what we want and how to protect us. He wants to hear us commune with Him, ask Him to do so and so according to His will. And immediately we ask, He sets in motion answers to the requests in His own time.
Growing into a deeper relationship with God comes with severe trials, temptations and attacks from the devil just to discourage us. But with God’s grace, we overcome he that is in the world.

I just feel like encouraging someone. There is something you really need, that God also feel you really need, and He is waiting for you to earnestly ask Him, so He can give it to you.

I also want to encourage someone who just discovered a relationship with God. Look beyond the problems that will come and with the help of the Holy Spirit, see the results God has given.

Yesterday I felt something. This morning, I felt it deeper. And finally I think I have stumbled upon the real reason why God brought me here to Abeokuta.

Please pray with me, that I will not falter, or be discouraged.

WONDERFUL

Blogville rocks! In this amazing world, I got the best shrinks money can’t afford. Thanks everyone for the advice. Thanks for making me see the disguised blessing. I never thought of it that way.

Okay, now that the predicament is out of way, Abeokuta is in the way. Read my update here!

TWO MOTHERS’ PREDICAMENT

When I did my two truths and one lie post, I ended by saying I had tons of gist to blog. This post wasn’t one of them. Truth is, I never knew I would ever do this post, and I really don’t know why I am doing it, because though I have always been me on this blog, this is the most personal post I will ever get to do. So don’t be surprised if one day I decide to take it down. I feel very vulnerable.

The trick question wasn’t meant to be in my two truths and a lie post, but somehow it ended up there, and somehow, here I am typing this very difficult topic in the middle of the night when all are asleep. And for once I wish I were an anonymous blogger because this is something I do not talk about. And there are less than five friends who even know about this truth.


Yes I have two mothers; the one who gave birth to me, and the one who brought me up, whom I call mummy till date.
I guess due to my two mothers’ predicament, I have subconsciously programmed myself to not wanting ever to have a big wedding, when eventually I am getting married. Neither do I want a party for my traditional marriage. I just want the dowry to be paid quietly in the sitting room and each family goodnight and welcome to a relationship.

I have said at times, that I don’t want to have a high table at my reception where there will be a chairman of the event and so on and friends ask me if I am crazy. But I have reasons you see. I have always wondered which of my mothers’ will play mother of the day? Biological- Who doesn’t know who I am or how I became me? Or Step- Who though, not the perfect mother, is the only mother I know, who brought me up, who is responsible for the person I turned out to be today, who together, we went through the laughs and the cries of changing times that shaped our family?

And even though mother one was absent due to no fault of hers at all, I hate the idea that the glory should be hers when I’m getting married. In the same way, I hate the emotions she will have, if she is denied a position that is rightfully hers. And is the position rightfully hers? I hate thinking about it.

During the traditional marriage, when mother of the bride is called for recognition, who goes? At the wedding reception, when mother of the bride is called to the high table, who goes? Her or her? When it’s time for bride’s parents to take a pose with the couple, how many people will be in the pix? Four or five and who stays on which side?

Females look forward to getting married and planning their weddings and enjoying that D day. I am not. Can we just skip ‘that day’ and let the holy matrimony begin?

Mother one, aka biological mother, is a stranger to me. We had just the first six and a half years of my life together. I don’t know this woman, but the thought of her pain makes me hurt. I don’t even call her mother or mummy or anything. It’s only some few months back we started a telephone relationship. And in six months we have spoken 3 times. I do not look forward to the calls, but do it out of obligation.

I do not have a relationship with her. None whatsoever. I avoided attending my beloved paternal grandmother’s burial, because I knew she would come to see her kids after over a decade, and I didn’t want any long time no sees. Not because she did anything wrong, but out of nervousness. I wasn’t sure how I would behave and I definitely didn’t want her to feel hurt or bad by the reception.

And years later precious granddaddy Warri died, and there was no escaping that burial at all. And she came like I knew she would. And I was indoors and mother two instructed me, to my fury, to go serve mother one refreshment. What did I do wrong that day? And later my dad as first son was dancing and been sprayed money and me as his first daughter was by his side dancing and picking monies from the floor, mother one came and started spraying me. I refused to watch the video coverage. Because I don’t want a remembrance of what I must face tomorrow. And most especially because of her expression; the joy in her eyes which translates into ‘this is my daughter’, it breaks my heart.

Unfortunately, this cup wouldn’t even pass after the days before marriage which I dread. If it would, I will bear it and make sure I enjoy my day. But there are other days which must run into weeks and at least a month right? I’m talking about the bride mother’s visit after she has had a baby. Who will come please? Her or her? Simple. I am having all my babies abroad and not coming home till they are two months old.

But before I face that, the main day must be dealt with. Do I just carry these anxieties till the day passes. Or does anyone have a plan that will save my sanity. I really don’t want to hurt any of my mothers. What do I do?

And The Lie Is?

Despite the fact that I really don’t like this tag thing, I think this is one of my most enjoyable post because of the comments. I liked the guesses made and the reasons given why some answers were favoured as the lie.
I honestly wish I could withhold the suspense of revealing the truths and the lie, but strangely, even me, Uzezi, is waiting for this post. I think I must be going crazy.

Okay, no more long story, let’s get down to business.

My Caveman is a blogger.

We have some investigative reporters in blogville who know how to research this and find out if it’s true or false. And there is a particular blogger who knows himself, and knows this answer to the very bottom because he always suspected. Finally, his curiosity was satisfied when we minus me visited his office. Do you know what it means for a guy to tell you that your Caveman is a cool dude? I talk too much.

Number one is very very true. And I’m on a mission to stop him from blogging, and I really don’t know why I’m doing that.

I have two mothers. This one is very easy now, blogville. Naturally this is the perfect lie. Nobody has two mothers. Except Uzezi that is.
Number two is very very true. I have two mothers. I will leave the explanation for my next post.

Now you know the lie.
Subconsciously, I must have made some bloggers, who must have seen my latest comment on Writefreak’s thankful Wednesday post, think that I actually am a mother. I saw Writefreak reply my comment and ask if I had a 13 year old? I laughed like crazy. Then I scrolled up to read the comment I left, and instead of saying my 13 year old sister, I said my 13 year old. Lol. Imagine making such a mistake just when I have a lie I need people to figure out. So it was only natural for Writefreak to guess this as true.

I do not have a 13 year old, neither do I have a 7 year old. I do wish I had though, I tell you. My sister who turns 13 in April looks so much like me that had I had a child as a teenager, she would have been perfect.
And I have a 7 year old sister who looks like me too. I call her my baby. Actually, in the early days of Caveman and I, I told him she was my kid. He was sold. He believed. God, how I enjoyed that trick. He threw questions that I answered calmly. What made it so believable for him was that he was surprised I had a sister that young. Why didn’t you marry her father? He asked. God. Remembering that play is cracking me up.

Number three is my perfect lie. Though a lot of you wanted me to be a mother, worry not. God will answer the prayers at the right time.


PS: Every blogger is forbidden from missing my next post. Till Then I remain

your's sincerely.

Cavewoman.