TWO WRONGS.

   Two wrongs do not make a right, they say. However, why doesn’t it? The Bible says if someone slaps you one one cheek, you should turn the other cheek. But should you do that? What cowardice! It is human nature to take advantage of people. If I slap you, today and you do nothing about it. Tomorrow, what stops me from doing worse when I know, you will not do a thing? The latter is human reasoning and people not wanting to be seen as fools retaliate. If I retaliate, you should know that it is because of what you did and accept my retaliation but people do not get that. Let me share a story.
  There were two friends, Peter and Paul. Peter had

THE IMAGINATION

Our imagination is one of the greatest weapons ever. There is no man made machine that can surpass it. I know the things I imagine on a daily basis. The fact that every person on the planet earth has an active imagination different from

SAYING GOODBYE

Goodbye is one of the most hated words in any language. It brings tears to the eyes. Celine Dion got it right in her song ‘Goodbye’. We hate it but it is a natural phase in life. We say hello, so we must use its opposite and brother, goodbye.
It might be that a loved one passed. It might be that the one we love left us for another. It might be circumstances that

THE LIFE SERIES 2; CHIOMA

My name is Chioma. I am thirteen years old. I am pregnant. I was not promiscuous. I have had nowhere to stay. I roam the streets of the city and sleep wherever I find at night. During the day, I beg for alms and food. Today, I have made up my mind to keep the baby. It is not as if I have the money to remove it, I do not even know where they do it. I feel like my body has been invaded. These days, I feel so hungry but there is no food. Last night I slept in a broken down car, two men dragged me out and raped me. The pain is something I am used to, so I did not fight them at all. I have been raped repeatedly since I started roaming the streets. I was pregnant before I started living on the streets.
It started two years ago. I was in the village that Christmas. My parents are very poor. My father is a shoe repairer and my mother sells roasted plantain in the town, I have a brother. I was playing in the stream with my friends when my little brother came to call me. When I got home, there was a car parked in the compound. I had seen cars in the town but I had never seen one very closely. The car was very big. Inside our house, were a big man and a woman who had trousers on. My mother always told me that no respectable woman should wear trousers. Her breasts were very big. At eleven, I looked fifteen. All my friends were envious of me. They stared at me as I walked in. Papa said I would follow them to the big city of Lagos. I was delighted. I saw Lagos in the home videos and Amaka my friend has been there before. She came back with so many nice things and stories.
We set off for Lagos the next day. Mr and Mrs Okafor had no child of their own, they told me. The journey was exciting. They bought me everything that was sold on the road. I was so filled up and excited. They had told my father that I would go to a big school in the city. I was always first in my class. I could not wait to lead in the new city and make friends. I love mathematics and I wanted to be an engineer in future.
I started school and I loved it. The only thing was I had to wake up by four and clean the house, which was a duplex. I set the table for breakfast. Oga and madam leave for work before seven a.m. me; I get to school by seven thirty a.m. I walk to school. When I get home, I continue with the house chores. Oga comes home by eight pm. madam comes home very late. I do not know why. There was a day she came home by midnight. I have to be awake to open the door for her.
One day, I was in the bathroom when the doorbell rang. I tied my wrapper and rushed to open it. It was oga. As I took his briefcase, my wrapper loosened. I covered myself up immediately. I apologized and brought out his dinner. The next day, oga and I were at home alone. I was in my room reading, when my door opened and oga came in. He had a nylon bag in his hand. He gave it to me; it was filled with matching pants and bras. I thanked him, thinking he would leave but he stood there. He told me I should put them on, that he wanted to see it on me. I said I could not, he threatened me. I pulled my clothes; he was watching me with a look in his eyes. I tried the first pair and then he jumped on me. I was crying, begging and fighting him. He was on top of me and he was too heavy and strong. He tore the underwear. I can still remember his breath on my face. He squeezed and pinched my breasts, it was painful. I felt something, hot and long on my thigh. Then it entered me, it was so painful. I felt like I had been torn into two. He was moving on top me, with his hand over my mouth and he squeezed my breasts with the other. He made an animal sound and stood up. I could not move, the pain was too much for me. He threatened to deal with me if I ever told madam. He said madam would never believe me that the last girl had tried. He told me I would enjoy him. I cried throughout the night, I could not believe my virginity was gone without my consent. He came every night even during my period. On those days, he would make me put that thing in my mouth. It was so disgusting, that I vomited on him one day. He now bought me things every time. I was meant to be enjoying all this but I could not. I knew he was using me. There were times I wanted to tell madam but she was always absent. Months later, I noticed my period did not come. I was always tired. One day, madam took me to the hospital for a test. The doctor told her I was pregnant. She took me home that day and she and oga queried me on who was the father of the unborn child. I could not say anything because oga was threatening me with his eyes. She beat me and told me I was going back to the village, the next day. That night, I took my things and ran away. I have been on the streets for two weeks but it feels like two years. It is almost Christmas. There is joy and laughter everywhere but I cry. My life is over. My dreams of being an engineer are gone. This afternoon, I had met a woman from my village when I was begging for alms. I had told her what happened. She said, she and her family are leaving for the village tomorrow that I will follow them. We are in her car; she is taking me to her house. It would be nice to have a hot meal and sleep on a real bed. I would rather face the shame and disappointment from my parents than roam the dangerous streets. But really, how do I face them tomorrow?
This story is fictional. Be kind to that child that lives with you. She is human and is someone’s child. Treat them as if they ARE yours and not animals. HAPPY NEW YEAR WITH LOVE!

LIFE SERIES 1

Life is full of difficulties. Some say it is a bitch and can bite you where you least expect it and others say if life gives you lemons, make lemonade out of it. This life really is a mystery or is it? The things we hear and see every day are unbelievable. It gets me wondering what life has in store for me and I increase my prayer effort. I sit and I ponder for minutes, hours.
It was a lovely Friday afternoon. I wanted to get some things. I thought about getting to the border since I was close to Mile 2, i changed my mind when I saw a market at Cele. I got down and started going round the market searching. In this harmattan it was not a pleasant chore, the dust was unsettling. I always did love the sights and sounds of a market. I went from one seller to the other. I saw a little wooden kiosk looking shop. I entered inside. I met a pretty woman. She is on the big side but not fat because she had a lovely figure, plump more like it. I was not paying attention to her initially. Her dressing was like that of every market woman but neat. She was conversing in Igbo with her neighbour. I greeted and she responded, she asked what I wanted. I was taken aback. Her English was the Queen’s English. She spoke better than most bankers and call centre agents who always use fake irritating accents. I could not believe my ears; I had to hear her speak again so I asked another question. It was not a phony accent. I looked round her shop again and wondered what someone who spoke like this was doing here.it was a shack. a meat seller was beside her shack and a charcoal seller at the far end. this to me was squalor ,poverty for the voice i heard. She was wearing a faded wrapper that had seen better days. on her feet were bathroom slippers albeit i noticed her nails were finely pedicured. I was lost for words. I looked at her again. I guessed she was in her forties and I was right in the end. My curiosity antennae were up and they refused to go down. I had to know, to understand.
I sat there; I could not help looking, more like staring at her. She was even graceful. Finally, I spoke, I told her I liked the way she spoke. She smiled at me and said thank you. I had to know more. I told her she speaks like someone that has lived in the UK. She smiled again. I waited for her to say something and finally she did. She had a faraway look in her eyes when she told me yes. I continued, I told her sorry madam but I just have to ask you, what are you doing here? She laughed; I liked the way she laughed too. It reminded me of people with class.
She looked at me, told me it was a long story, and stopped. I hoped she would continue and she did. She had schooled in London during the eighties before I was born obviously and she laughed again. She was there for seven years. She did a diploma course before she did a degree course. She came back to Nigeria for the holidays. She met a man who wanted to marry her, more than one actually but she settled for love. That was the beginning of her downhill journey. She could not get a visa to travel back; she had a job waiting there. It was meant to be easy but she does not understand what happened. Her husband had an ok job but he never progressed. Her in-laws insisted that she must not work. They said she was the reason her husband never progressed. He too changed all of a sudden. She could not work. They were living from hand to mouth. The worst happened; her original certificates were engulfed in a fire. She could always get in touch with the school now but who would take someone without work experience in this country. My dear, it is all in the past. She has accepted it all as life. Now, she owns this place yes it is small but she has been able to put her children through school with it. Her eldest is in her final year at a federal university. She is struggling so her children will not live the life she has or make her mistakes. She smiled at me again and continued. She could have avoided all this if she had listened to her mum not to marry the man or prayed about it. Her family washed their hands off her. They later went to the afterlife after that.
She looked at me and started giving me serious advice. She told me to be careful the kind of company I kept. I should never let anybody disrespect me and dictate my life. Be careful to whom you give your affection, your love they hold power over you. It should be someone that really deserves you. Before, I get married that I should pray seriously, before I say yes. That some people’s destinies can stunt that of others. They kill it and bring you down you will never go forward. Some things in life are more spiritual than we think. That man that seems like the perfect choice might not be be careful as you grow. A wrong choice can destroy you. As she was saying all this, she was not bitter; she smiled all through and only paused briefly to remember with nostalgia. She told me about her stay in London, the fun, the life she had there. Only then did I see the pain. She had it all but it all disappeared, she said and her smile came back. As I left that shop that afternoon, I wished there was something I could do for her. I sighed and shook my head, pondering as she waved me good-bye.