Replying Chimamanda

I realise this post isn’t exactly going to earn me any fans, but like you know, on this forum I say what I will, especially if it’ll cause trouble. Hehe. Please read this, with as open a mind as you can, and perhaps I might convince – as I hope.

______________________________
Re: Why can’t he be like everyone else?

Since Chimamanda wrote her article a couple of weeks ago, I’ve been pressured to respond to the issue, both by people close to me, and my conscience also. I am a writer and a Nigerian, and quite easily, Chimamanda Adichie has been a role model, an example of some of what I can aspire to achieve, and after reading her post, you can imagine my sadness and disappointment.
A vast majority of the Nigerian youth idolizes Chimamanda, and rightly so, it is thus doubly agonizing to see her piping them, us, all the way over the cliff and into the sea.
In her article, she explains with a story, whether fictional or not, about a fellow called Sochukwuma and his ‘difference’ and why such a difference is no crime because he was too young to have chosen the lifestyle he was given, and there was no victim involved.

Very recently, in a conversation with a family friend, we examined Chimamanda’s position and he was very caustic. In his opinion, one carried by many others I must add, Chichi was suffering a malaise often endured by African notables who have experienced and become elevated in Western culture and thus, in a desperate bid to maintain that position, forgo their values and a bit of common sense.

Amusingly, according to her story, even at a very young age, she and her friends were able to quickly spot even then that Sochukwuma was “different” and “not like the other boys”. But we know, nothing can be hidden from children, and the truth is in the mouth of babes. Oh, they had no name for it, or they’ll have said ‘Gay’ and maybe Sochukwuma would have been hurt and not played with them again, and gone to another part of Nsukka or changed his ways. After all humans learn, and can un-learn bad habits. But Chimamanda says nothing of what happened to Sochukwuma or his alternate lifestyle after the boys threatened to throw him off a second floor balcony, but that does not concern us. Of course, Chichi would only have us bothered about how much of a crime against humanity it is to label an inhuman action, as a crime.

Fornication, adultery, human vices in all, and sinful things in every holy book, yet not crimes. And do you know why Miss Chimamanda? Because, they are very human vices. Polygamy and Abortion, also crime and non-crime, depending on the society. But since Western culture abhors one and extols the other, perhaps we should reverse and do also, democracy and freedom being nothing but the opinion of the civilised fostered upon the brute.
Tolerance is the African trademark, and in that you are right. Punishment, swift and merciless, for all things against the very nature of man is also our trademark. But this is not a question of what is African or what is not, it’s a matter of what is natural and what is wrong.

Homosexuality, is no benign difference, dear Chimamanda. It’s not the difference between aquamarine and turquoise, it’s the oddity that results in the end of the human race, a pervasion of the sexual relationship and the worst legacy you would leave your children.
The constant argument is that people are born homosexual, and thus it is not their fault they behave how they do. “If it’s so wrong, why were they created like that?” But people are born dyslexic, schizophrenic, manic-depressive and kleptomanic. Is it normal? Do we tolerate these ‘benign’ differences? Do we allow it fly because they are human beings also, or do we try to correct it?
If for some reason, you had recommended that appropriate measures be put in place in the corrective institutions the Nigerian homosexuals seem to be destined for, to ensure they are not merely punished but rehabilitated, I would have applauded you to high heavens and supported that course of action. But no, your very, very civilised mien and perhaps the image of fellow author Binyavanga Wainaina slimming while his green hair goes back to black in a Nigerian institution kept you from that.

Sir Arthur Clarke, anointed by the Queen and affirmed homosexual and atheist said, “One of the greatest tragedies of mankind is that morality has been hijacked by religion.” And he was right.
I am a Nigerian, living in Nigeria, and across the Atlantic and over the Mediterranean, I see societies where the true freedom is being practised; where a man cannot express his distaste at the sight of a cross-dresser without being persecuted as anti-democratic.
If I say I will not kill, or be promiscuous or lie, it is quickly assumed that I am a Christian or Muslim or belonging to some religious order which forbids such, forgetting that these are moral values. Human values. Things I am not supposed to do because they are wrong, by any standard. And thus in a bid to divest himself of religious leanings, so that one may be seen to be truly liberal, secular and freedom-loving, the 21st century civilised fellow becomes amoral.
The same man in the Senate or Parliament, makes laws which would not expose him to criticism by any liberal group, ensuring his re-election and popularity, and legalising inhuman activities in the process; since the forbidding of such activities may be interpreted as religious and thus unworthy of logical backing.
“Kill a baby in the womb! Marry same sex individuals! After all, your only argument against it is that is a bad thing. And we’re not Religious people here. We’re all about common good!”
Aunty Chimamanda, homosexuality is not wrong only because it is sinful and against the tenets of every true religion. It is wrong and unlawful because, it is immoral and un-natural and a very base activity.

Disclaimer
*
I am not a card-carrying, gay-hating communist. LOL. These are simply my opinions on the matter, and open to discourse. Like the man said, it’s wiser to examine for yourself and decide, rather than loping with the gang. 🙂

Follow on Twitter @janus_aneni

GOD bless Nigeria. Peace.

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Testimony Time

PASTOR JAY: Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Pastor Jay. If you are under the influence and unction of my voice at this hour, I command every problem in your life to become a solution! And every evil to push you to a new level. Amen.
I just want to present to you my new book. It’s titled Old Roger. It’s on sale at bookshops and blogs near you. Buy it, and every Old Roger in your life would be destroyed. You see, Old Roger was an evil man! This is why when he died a mango tree was planted over his head. You might not understand the significance of a mango tree. Lemme explain: mango is one of the seven forbidden fruits in the old Greek. Apple is number one of course..see the book of Snow White among others.. Mango is translated as Aniba or Mangifera...words which from looking alone sound evil. But this is not why we’re here today. Please, can our testifiers come forward..

TELEOLA: LOOOOOL!!!! I HAVE FUCKING MISSED YOU!!!

JANUS: (<_<)..Hello everyone. Been a while.
So sorry we’ve been absent from here, lots of issues being resolved, too much on the mind, Writer’s block in some cases and whatnot. But the year is at an end and it’s time for thanksgiving.

First of all, I want to thank you. You.
There hasn’t been a new post here since maybe November, despite a steadily filling drafts folder, and I post this and all of you come running like I’m sharing recharge cards. Wow. You guys are such loyal fans or readers. Whichever it is, I thank you. You’re very awesome. I am full of awe of you.

Full of Awe
I am full of awe

Tele say something..

TELEOLA: Something. And please, call me T-Baby.

JANUS: (<_<)  Well, as it is done, a recap of the major highlights of the year. First off, this has been the second year of “All in this life’s journey” and despite my lack of care, it’s not been so bad.
Tried my hand at a blogging challenge this year. You guys would remember “A Twist in the Tale” that featured Weirdoo, Haemlet, JontheZaptist, OWex,  and many others, and of course, where we introduced the beautiful Teleola. I still apologize for not finishing the challenge, circumstances way beyond my control prompted me to end on such a note. But here’s to promising better things in 2014. Finished things of a way awesom-er feel.
Ehm..Tele?

TELEOLA: Yes. Hai ham buriful. Ehm.. It looks like we are always apologizing to you guys. It’s not you, it’s me. Writers can be flirts you know. I have been flirting around with other aspects of my life but writing is my second true love (see what I am saying), and I will always come back no matter how long I am away.
Like that prophet that married the prostitute in the bible.

And I said you should call me T-Baby na.

JANUS: Biko sweetheart, don’t be vex. Just look at this filth. Early this year, on the 1st actually, I promised I was going to find a co-writer who would be fair of face and awesome in ink. Did I? Did I?? Was I right or was I right? Clap for me. (Awesome is my word of 2013. It is going. I promise.)

Personally, 2013 recorded achievements for me. On some days I was distraught, on some, the feeling of traught was on a high. NYSC ended. I got a Best Corper award. I entered the real world again.

TELEOLA T-BABY: So, I finished NYSC this year and also got employed. I didn’t win any award.  General CDs for life mehn. But I learnt a lot of things. The most important being you cannot force friendship.
I have undergone military training as far as I am concerned. Camp was not beans, I don’t care what anyone has to say. Gimme gun and send me to Sudan to protect the people.

Freeze, villain!
Freeze, villain!

No, please don’t be rash. Don’t give me any stupid gun.

JANUS: LOL! ♥_♥ Oshey Lara Croft ____o_ command me, Confessor.
I improved my British accent in 2013. And it didn’t have to be an International airport! I learnt all my British at Okada Airport, Benin city.
Another nasty breakup this year (becoming quite the habit) and possibly some of the reason for the block in my writing. (Tele massage my head biko). But I made new friends this year. Vundie, Jyte, Niro..these are the Twitterati you would know. And got closer to a few who had been friends before. The there’s-a-treasure-in-the-rotten-chest-right-beside-you sort of friends. People like Teleola.. Come here, let us hug.

I am lonely, aren't I?
I am lonely, aren’t I?

T-BABY: You keep me in a rotten chest, ba? Now, you want to hug.  Better hug Justin. Rub chest with him.  Shebi he is your secret weapon.
Do you people see what I go through?
I have added one more state to my Nigerian-states-I-have-lived-in list. Akure. The land were goats are valued more than children.
Okay, I am exaggerating. But, those people can eat  from the same plates with their goats and I hear sharing-bed rumours. Can you believe that! Ondo people are still cool though. Yes, I am subtly apologizing.
I also lost my phone. It actually got stolen at a party. The person carried my whole bag from under the table where i hid it as I was dancing. Fam, I cried. But I serve a living God, the God that answereth by fire, the God that broke palm kernel with egg to shame the stone, the God that sends money through uncles that have refused to pick my calls since I entered university, the….

JANUS: T-BABY ca’m dan na..you’re my only secret weapon. The only arrow in my quiver. The only project in my Manhattan. The last scene of my Jet Li film. Haba..

And Akure is a state abi?

T-BABY: Okay. *wipes lone tear that had begun falling from right eye*
I sha bought new phone.  And no, no uncle sent me any money.

Sorry, Ondo state. I was in the spirit.

JANUS: Family wise, lots of travails (abi that is the English?) Y’know, trials that were in the end surpassed? Yeah. From about April, certain troubles, issues and disappointments up until December. But the LORD delivereth us out of them all. Accidents and Robberies and Kidnappings and jailings, but like I said, the LORD delivered. Miraculously.
Still didn’t win Diamond Bank Salary4Life, or Toyota Corolla, or Silverbird and Genesis iPads. These people never like me. But I won tickets to see shows, and for the first time in my life attended a paying comedy show and nearly coughed up my lungs in an apoplectic fit of guffaws [LWKMD].

T-BABY: Single bloggers, gaan look for your missing writing rib, JANUS and I are in sync.
While I didn’t sleep in jail (I am sure his afro was part of the reason why he was there in the first place), I was caught driving without a licence. But praise Jehovah, I was released.
I also made new friends. Vundie (who must be convulsing with excitement that we have both mentioned his name), Obehi (the girlfriend Janus and I share), Dunni (who writes beyond her years) & Lanre (who I don’t know if he is alien or human but writes awesome poems). And, Bayo, my bestest friend of five years is still with me. We will go more, bae.

JANUS: Simultaneous coitus is an …wrong post. Come! Come! It’s not me that entered jail oh! And you can drive?? How fa na? Come take me out..

Didn’t read as many books as I planned in 2013. I think in total, read only 24. But 4 of them were by Nigerian writers and that’s a plus. Read Nigerian books and books by Nigerians!
Was least involved in real politics this year. There were no scathing newspaper articles, no activism. Plenty propaganda documentaries though, for which I’m slightly embarrassed, but that changes in 2014.
Ehen, you know I promised podcasts last year. Hehe. We had a youtube session shebi? Heehehe. Before January runs out though, we’ll do something about that. Abi Teleola?

T-BABY: Yes. You guys have heard Janus’s voice when he murdered Raymond. You will be blessed with mine soon.
Take you out, abi? No problem. Sha bring extra seat belt. 007 was my tutor.
You read 24 and you are complaining.  I won’t reveal my number. And since you are into politics, comman gimme contract. Even if it is to plant flowers in the whole of the state.
Before I forget, I cut my hair this year. Last week sef. You can call me African Queen.

JANUS: LOOOL! African Queen..LOOOL! Abeg do and Twitpic lerrus see. LOOOL!
Basically though, 2013 had ups and downs, many downs for me, and we’re super glad we conquered them all. It’s all been by GOD’s Grace and we’re looking forward to 2014. Thanks for bearing with us so far. Stick around this next year..

T-BABY: TAAAAA!!! Not until I reach your length. Yes oooo. Baba God noni. His mercies endure forever.
Peace!

Disclaimer

The names mentioned are of course people we seek to inveigle favours from and need to keep happy. If your name is not there, it means we do… Wait.
No disclaimer.

Do follow the blog by clicking the button at the top of your screen or below this post. And follow on Twitter @Janus_aneni and @tele_ola.

Peace to Nigeria. And have a Happy New Year.

The Janus Lieber

Do you know the worst thing about the new Star Trek movie? I just saw it today, I know, but, did you notice that part where the guy who plays Sherlock in Sherlock was running across the road, and those futuristic cars that float in the air had to screech to avoid hitting him? You did shey? Screech oh! Screech! Like they had to go, craaaaaas..shrreeee…screeeech to avoid him. Cars that float in the air. Screeching. Later they’ll put J. J. Abrams on par with Spielberg. Zeb Ejiro-wannabe nigga!

Pah!

Anyway, today halfway through my weekly blog rounds (any period of Free Wifi when there’s nothing to do except wait for downloads to finish and laugh through awesome posts), I remembered I’ve not posted my Lieber and ehm..well, I’m supposed to, at least before I’m no longer eligible. So, I went back to the place where I was nominated and then I…

Wait.

This is not how they do it.

Let’s start afresh. The Liebster blog award.

The Liebster Blog Award is given to up and coming bloggers who have less than 200 wordpress followers. The Meaning: Liebster is German and means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing and welcome.”

What? I qualify. I’m pleasant and cute and welcome. I’m a very welcome guy really.

Okay, when I got nominated for the Liebster, I was shocked, and pleased, and annoyed it hadn’t come earlier. What? I’m cocky on Fridays. Yes, I think it was a Friday. [Tell me, please tell me, you saw something there. No? Nothing? All that pum, nothing poked out? Okay, I’m overdoing this.] Anyway, it was really surprising when Haphenie nominated me for the Liebster, cool peoples she is, but I admit I did not know she thought that highly of me. It was an ego boost that day, the pleasure kept me going for weeks, that is until almost a month later when I realised I didn’t even comment on the post to say my thanks. I’ve been shy about it since. Forgive me Haphenie.

Thank you so much for nominating me. Thank you. Really meant a lot. I would send you a kiss smiley, but I don’t have your pin or your phone number. Email me maybe?

Thank you really.

It’s Christopher.aneni@yahoo.com

Moving on. First thing, the RULES.

Like a secondary school friend used to say, Lures and legurations. I found it funny then. I still laugh now. Over eight years since I saw him, and it’s still funny. Come to think of it, he was Igbo. Explains a lot. LOL!

Sorry. I don’t really have much cause to laugh these days. (˘_˘)

LOL!

Lures. Legurations. LOL!

Oh my..

RULES. LOL

The Rules

  • Thank the person who nominated you
  • List 11 random facts about yourself
  • Answer the questions they have asked you
  • Nominate 11 other people
  • Ask the nominees 11 questions

And yeah, let them know you nominated them.

Okay, I’ve thanked Haphenie. Now, the Janus Facts of Random.

  1. I started writing before I can remember. Till date I have family friends who haven’t seen me in maybe sixteen years come over to the house and go, “Hey, do you still write all those your stories?” Then they go into paroxysms of laughter. (¬_¬)
  2. My driver’s license gives me at 1.74m. I think it’s a lie. I’m taller.
  3. I started keeping an afro in a very serious effort to look like Drake. Now I look like a cross between Mexican Bruno Mars and The Weeknd.

    Mexican? Really? I'm already half Puerto Rican!
    Mexican? Really? I’m already half Puerto Rican!
  4. My favourite rock band is Mumford and Sons.
  5. I started blogging because of @RavingFred and my initial mentors then were @Sirkastiq, @Wana____ and somebody else from TheNakedConvos, I forget now.

    In case you wondered, that there, in the centre? That's the point..
    In case you wondered, that there, in the centre? That’s the point..
  6. Haphenie isn’t the first person to nominate me for a Liebster. The first person who did, made the mistake of notifying me via the comment box on my blog. I saw the comment, assumed it was spam, and deleted it. I was new to WordPress then, forgive me. If you’re out there, I don’t hate you. I love you in fact. Thank you in ehm..incognito?
  7. I love sleeping on the floor. Not because my rug is that soft. My bed is a bit lumpy, and it’s a good way to get girls to say: “Haba na, that hard floor? Oya come and join me on the bed, or I’ll come to the floor with you.” 😀
  8. I want to be a writer when I grow up. A real writer. With millions of publications, and a jet, like John Grisham. I also want to teach. I love to talk to people. Robert Ludlum (his soul rest in peace), is one of my favourite authors. And a mentor.
  9. I realise I must have listed more than one fact in (8) above.
  10.  One of my favourite quotes is, “Moderation in all things, including Moderation. – Petronius”. It’s a maxim really. Another fave is, “Christophorus Christum, sed Christus substulit orbem: constiterit pedibus dic ubi Christophorus?” That’s the Eternal Conundrum.
  11.  I’m a Christian. I love GOD. I fear GOD. I worship GOD. You should get to know HIM.

Okay, we’re done with that.

Now, the hard part, the questions Haphenie asked me.

1. What do you treasure most?

Family. Friends. Maybe my reputation. My external Hardrive with over 500GB of important stuff. [>_>]

2. Who is your icon?

Most of my icons are fictional characters. Characters created by me inclusive. None of these humans are good enough.

3. One word that best describes you?

Histrionic. It means theatrical. Dramatic. I tend to grossly overplay scenarios. I’m a drama queen, according to my girlfriend. What does she know? *adjusts tutu*

4. If you had the power to make a permanent change in the world, what will it be?

Love. Brotherly love. By a wave of hand, if I could, I’ll place brotherly love in all our hearts. No, Macklemore. No. Not you.

5. What won’t you be caught dead wearing?

Well, I wore a satin nightgown in the middle of a drunken fit last night, but nah..won’t be caught dead wearing them.

6. What is your favorite fashion accessory?

My bracelets. My younger sister makes them. At a very steep price I tell you! Like 1000N for one! I mean, we’re family! And you’ll wonder why I never buy her recharge cards.

7. Is there any part of your body you aren’t comfortable with?

Ehm…when I was younger I had this very long head. Well, I sport a wicked afro now. Hahahahahahaha! Die haters!

8. In the next five years, where do you see yourself ?

In school. Studying for my PhD. ( ,_,)

Sugar-less garri life, i tell you…

9. Favorite cartoon character?

LOOOOL! I have no idea. Do you watch animation these days? These things are too hilarious. How do you choose?

10. Best movie / novel?

I love the ‘A song of Ice and Fire’ series by GRRM. Right now, I’m still thrilled by ‘The Great Gatsby’ I saw yesterday.

11. Your favorite sport?

I can swim. It’s got to be my best eh?

Okay, we are done with that. Now, the nominees.

In no particular order, and maybe selected based on some kind under-table sorting:

Malick, Cikko, Owex_, Zeenike, Haphenie, Vundie, Jyte Dunni Dammyoguns ehm…a lot more people I would love to include in this list, but alas, either they’ve gone past the limit of 200 wordpress followers or they are on that wretched blogspot.com. *spits*

Anyway, my questions for them:

  1. Do you love cheeseballs?
  2. Given a choice between three 1000N notes and ten 200N notes, which would you pick?
  3. Without reserve, to what degree do you think I’m awesome?
  4. Who’s your favourite novel/movie/cartoon/animation character?
  5. Why do you write?
  6. Do you love cheeseballs? Do you plan to make a career out of writing? Explain. (Yes, my ‘The Teacher’ moniker is not joke)
  7. Rats or roaches?
  8. If I were a contestant in the Presidential elections, would you vote me?
  9.  What is your opinion of the Eternal conundrum?
  10. If GOD is Sovereign and knows all, what is the point of prayer?
  11. Do you read ‘motivational’ books? [This determines whether I kick you off any future Leiber lists I may draw]

Well, that’s it folks. the Leibster post is at an end.

That string of Latin, for those of us too lazy to google, reads simply: “Christopher bore Christ; Christ bore the whole world; Say where did Christopher then put his foot?”

Don’t forget to follow those amazing writers I nominated. Visit their blogs, loads of awesome stuff.

Like our page on Facebook, click on the Follow button at the top of your screen, and follow me on Twitter @janus_aneni

Peace to mankind.

PS: I really love cheeseballs. And I’m going to get some flak over this post.

Oh yeah...
Oh yeah…

Lamentationem

It’s been a while I wrote anything, perhaps after this you might understand.

And yes, I usually don’t write poems, I prefer limericks, hence, I would not follow all the ‘rules’..

That said, read on..

________________________________________________________

now playing: Hopeless wanderer | Mumford and Sons

LAMENTATIONEM

 

These dark shards pierce my heart,

splintered ends of unholy swords.

their jagged ends tear me apart,

their bearers, sons of the Satan’s hordes.

 

Fear, anxiety, apathy and shame,

these demons trouble me in day and night,

tearing at my soul, and shrieking my name,

they add to my onerous plight.

 

Thing is:

 

I write my verses, as the tunes of a minstrel,

soothing, then ululating, then sombre.

And one may read them as the cry of the wastrel,

shrill, then captivating, then it’s over.

 

Anyway:

 

So these pains cant against my faith,

rendering my soul into the deepest of despair.

And as with such things, it affects my art,

and my relationships fall to disrepair.

 

Morn and night, my days, a bleak skyline

no cloud, no sun, no azure blue sky.

I wander about, lost in a hopeless daze,

no sound, no fun, no thoughts to fly

 

It’s getting easier, I think:

 

It’s always been easy for me,

to write of my deepest pains.

That which worries and I can’t do,

is tell of my greatest sins.

 

But now, a ray in the darkness:

 

For even while I sleep, my dreams rage away,

visions of darkness, and red, and fire, and death.

But at the end of it all, there still is hope,

hope for joy, hope for happiness, hope for mirth

 

And now as I sit to write of this,

my spirit lifts and my fears negate.

My demons all fled, my head is clear,

my heart is free, the storms abate.

 

Fin.

Janusaneni

__________________________________________________________________

Believe me, I tried to make this into a humorous rant.

Do leave your comments.

You may also follow the blog, and like our page on Facebook. 🙂

Peace.

A Lone Star

Ormeh sent this to me this evening, freestyle. I liked it. I think you will too.

_________________________

Lone Star

Seven pm
The month was moving towards its end
The evening was bright and
The crickets were chirping happily around the bend
…there sat a girl
Just staring around looking like she was out for the atmosphere
To the unobservant eye she was just enjoying the evening
But she was imagining a life with more meaning

Just a normal girl
Not particularly pretty
Not particularly witty
Not particularly smart
Not particularly flat
Not particularly loved
Not particularly wanted
She was.. The poster girl for average

She had a few friends
Had a few laughs
Met a few guys
Had a few flings
What people didn’t know about Grey
(As was her name)
Was that she wanted more

She wanted more than a few mutual friends
She wanted the bffs; friends to the end,
Like was portrayed in movies.
She wanted more than a few flings
She wanted that fiery passionate love
She wanted that calm undying love
A companion to share experiences with
Even the little ones
Really just any kind of love would do
So long as it wasn’t the one between kins.

She stared at the sky
No stars tonight she thought with a sigh
There was nothing visible other than clouds
And this was how she saw her life
Beautiful at first but empty upon closer scrutiny
Oh look…
She found a star
Twas but a lone star
A lone star with no companions close or afar

She wanted her life to be like a beautiful night
The moon surrounded by a lot of stars

Beyond that not particularly beautiful smile
Beneath the girl plain to sight
Was a typical girl that wished to be loved
For deep down she was a lonely girl

A lone star.

@miss_ormeh

___________________
“Not particularly flat..” Yup! That was D right thing to say. 😉

Apologies & Thank yous

 

Citizens of Nigeria, it is with deep sadness and a considerable amount of ire (my new favourite word, whatever that is), that I come before you at this hour.
The show, which you have..excuse me. *sips water*. The show which you have come to know as A Twist in the Tale, or simply, The Twist, has come to an end. Wait! Wait! Don’t start hissing yet. Let me explain.

You see, the current situation in Nigeria, including the face-off between a recalcitrant governor and an over-bearing President, and the surrounding nations has put the polity in such a situation that stories such as are promulgated by this cybernetic space from which I blog, would only serve to further incite emotions and create conflagrations that threaten the precarious balance upon which this nation lies and in effect topple the country into a soup of insousciance, malfeasance and terrifying debacles.
*deep breath*

woooosh...
woooosh…

All above is nonsense.

Basically, conditions beyond my total control have led me to end this series a lot earlier than I planned. And for that, I apologise greatly.
*insert pic saying “I am sorry” even if i dont mean it*

Ignore that…

I really am sorry..
I really am sorry..

I want to appreciate especially, all of you who read A Twist in the Tale, and also the wonderful, wonderful writers who put together those lovely stories. Thank you. Thank you very much.
@weird_oo
@OWEx_
@Paetir
@Teleolaonifade
@OluwaWanaBaba
@jon_the_zaptist
@Haemlet_
@Sagaysagay
@naijamd

But first, before we go, one last Tale..

__________________
Once upon a time, there were two little boys. They were both named for Bible characters, and they loved to sit on trees. Apparently, one was named Peter and one was named Paul. And yes they were black. And no they weren’t boys, they were birds. And yup! There was no twist to this. But hey, it’s the end of the sh.. 

*static*
*static*

Oh damn!

Okay, we're back..
Okay, we’re back..

Follow on Twitter @janus_aneni

Peace.

Mbaise One!

Selling Gala is not a punishment. Selling Gala is not slavery. Selling Gala is an occupation. See, I love what I do. I enjoy selling Gala.
Most of you types, you walk up to us in markets and we hear you on television and radio; “Stop hawking in the streets. Stop selling Gala” and yet, you’re the same people who patronise us. What sort of hypocrites are you?
What do you know about selling Gala? What do you know about these roads?

My name is Emeka. I’m a humble person. My friends call me Mbaise One. And no, it’s not because I come from Mbaise nor because I’m some sort of top-notch gala seller. One day, I sold about ten Galas at the same time to a fat man driving an Audi 80 and Wasiu that sells Fan-Yogo, laughed and said “Hmm..Mbaise One!” And the name stuck. Till this day, I don’t know why they call me that name.

I am, a top-notch Gala seller all the same.

Anyway, my friends call me Mbaise One. And I sell Gala around Mile One in Port-Harcourt city. I don’t think there is any relationship.
I wake up early every day, I go to the distributors, I collect three cartons of Gala, sometimes four, and then I return to Mile One. Most times, by the time it is 12pm, I have sold through about one carton and I’m half-way through the second one. Before 2pm, I’m through with that carton and the third one. I sell my gala very fast you know. Then, I take the money back to the distributors and collect my cut. Sometimes, because I’m so good, they give me some Gala also. I only sell Gala by the way, not Freshbite or Meaty or any of those other brands. I’ve been selling Gala for a long time, and I stick to what is good.

I’m thirty-three years, but I don’t look a day over twenty-two. It’s necessary to look young in this business. People always buy from the young, but not too young, Gala seller.
I remember when I was younger and living in the village. This was about seven years ago. There was no one, absolutely no one, faster than me in the whole of Awka. I was the last to leave for the farm at morning, but the first to reach it. Last to leave, but the first to reach home. I could walk the distance to the farm in less than ten minutes. It was a five-kilometer distance. On some occasions, I ran the distance. But it usually made me six minutes earlier, so I hardly ever.
My body has always been lithe and strong. I can endure an almost constant strain to my body without breaking down. When I used to run to the farm, I do it most times with my hoe and cutlass in my hand, and the bag of corn we want to plant on my back. Yet, it never tires me. I think that’s what Mr Adolphus saw in me.
Mr Ignatius Adolphus is my Oga. He is from Cross River state, but he has Igbo names. He usually comes to our village then to meet with one of his brothers. Sometimes, he carries some of us, the young men, with him to the city. If you decide to stay and work with him, you stay. But if you want to go back to the village, you can go.

We all stay with Mr Adolphus. He’s a nice man.

Mr Adolphus saw me running that day so many years ago. He saw me running very fast, carrying a load on my back and smiling at everybody on the way at the same time. I think he was impressed and astounded and happy. I think I must have looked like a good opportunity to him.
Mr Adolphus gave my father and mother money and many good things, including a carton of Gala. I think, that was when I started to see visions of my future occupation.

That day Mr Adolphus asked me. “Nwoke, do you like this Gala?”
I was chewing and smiling happily, so I didn’t answer immediately. But he had his answer. And after that day I’ve never looked back.

Never look back!
That was one of the first things he taught me.

When I started, I used to sell Gala on East-West road. The road is very busy. Cars are always speeding to and fro on the express. When running after a car, especially if you have given them Gala and you have not collected money, if you hear a horn behind you, and you look back, that second may make the difference between you catching up with the car, or losing your money. It would also make the difference between your mistakenly getting crushed under a vehicle or surviving unscathed.
Since I started the work, I have only seen two casualties. One was my friend from my village, Cletus, another Igbo boy. He looked back. I still feel sorry for him. The other was Wasiu. No, not Wasiu that sells Fan Yogo, another one. He tried to steal Mr Adolphus’ money and run.

They found his body under the bridge at Oil mill junction.

You see, Gala selling involves a technique. Not just anybody can do it. You need to smile at the customers all the time. You need to have change handy for any note, even N1000. And most importantly, when you see children in vehicles, you need to know how to catch their eye. Children are our best customers.

Stay with the vehicle, even if the mummy says no. Insofar as the child says yes.

I say a prayer for all those children who keep on pointing at the Gala even after their parents say no. GOD bless them. GOD bless them very much.

When I collect my cut from the distributors, I carry it to Mr Adolphus. It is from Mr Adolphus I collect my own share. I have to pay to use his road to sell my gala. But Mr Adolphus is very nice. Sometimes he gives me extra money and food if I sell very well that week.
On the road today, a young man walked up to me to talk to me about selling Gala. He said selling Gala on the road is bad. He said I am being trafficked by Mr Adolphus. Then he bought Gala from me and la Casera from Tumi. What does he know?

I sold five cartons today. The Gala distributors gave me N2000 and two Galas. Mr Adolphus gave me N400 from that. See, I’m making gain.

Selling Gala is not a punishment. Selling Gala is not slavery. Selling Gala is an occupation. See, I love what I do. I enjoy selling Gala.

Disclaimer
* I do not intend to err..slander any err..Igbo people. Adequate tribes were listed in this err..business. And err..selling gala on the streets is err..illegal. Refuse to buy from any hawker you see. Err..thanks.

PS: I’m sure we’ve all heard about #SaveVincent.
Nwokedi Vincent is a 600L student of Pharmacy in UNIBEN. He was diagnosed with leukaemia (Blood Cancer)/ haematological malignancy. He needs our help both spiritually,financially and otherwise. He requires the sum of N6m to help take him abroad for treatment. Please help save a life as a minimum of N50 donation, money for one Gala, would go a long way to help raise the needed money. The account for donations is VINCENT CHUKWUKA NWOKEDI. Acct no: 2100053461 Zenith Bank. God bless u.
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Joyce Lulu.

Do help and spread this message. Try and contribute where you can. Do your little bit and save a life. The picture of the young man is below this space. Thanks.

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Peace.