Waste Management

The week is over and I am looking forward to a restful weekend where I can dig into a good book and a wine of glass on the back porch. I have had the latest Jeffrey Archer book on my list for quite a while and this was the weekend to savour that read. The public library had sent me a note earlier in the day saying my reserved copy was ready for pick-up.

Mrs. Patterson the librarian pulled out my copy as soon as she saw me walk in. She always supported my reading habits and whispered new book titles that were coming to the library especially as she knew my favourite authors. She also loved talking about her puppy and how she walked him at the park each morning before she came to work. From the stories she told me, she overindulges and overfeeds the puppy so those morning walks are critical to her not having a messed up apartment when get gets back from work.

As I walked into the house, my wife Kerry planted a kiss on my cheek and asked me to “help” take the garbage out. Hello? Can I at least get past the foyer before I am sent on a mission? Yeah, Saturday mornings are for the municipal garbage pickups and there was still time to get that done. “Let me have my bath first and then dinner before I attend to those chores” I plead. After dinner of sweet potato salad and vegetables, with remote control in hand, I flicked the tv on to Netflix and continued from the last episode of “Blacklist” from season 4.

I woke up with a start. Blacklist was still playing. It was already 540am on Saturday! I had failed asleep on the couch. My stomach rumbled. Oh yes, that pint of rum raisin ice cream I binged on is having an impact on my lactose intolerant stomach. I grabbed my Jeffrey Archer book and ducked into the bathroom.

“Hidden in Plain Sight” is such a page turner. The William Warwick character in the book is destined for a knighthood at the rate he is going and I am only on Chapter 14. By now, I can hear Kerry moving around in the bedroom and probably getting the laundry together. I could stay in here for a long time. Each page of this book keeps you in suspense just as staying in here probably keeps Kerry in suspense as to why I was still in here. It is my safe zone though, in reality, it is probably the only place I can be where she won’t bother me!

By the time I get to chapter 18, my leg starts to cramp from sitting for so long and one leg has fallen asleep such that I have to pound my feet on the floor. I decide to finish the book later. As I stepped out of bathroom, a space where I accomplish so much, Kerry walks up to me and asks “Did you take out the garbage like I asked you?” I look at the time, its 745am. I forgot to take out the garbage bins last night. The garbage trucks have come and gone and we missed the pick-up! I have no regrets though. This is one place I can read the bulk of any book without anyone bothering me. The garbage can always go out next week but this book has to go back to the library, so I can get another one.

 I “Cheated” on you, so what!!

 

Look, I know we have been together for just about 6 months.  In our time together, you have shown me a different side of life and the city we live in, it like you have lived here all your life. I must say, I admire your skills, you are very good at what you do.  I want to commend you on that stunning (pun intended) wardrobe, the outfits you wear to work every day don’t seem to change much, it’s almost like you have three favorite outfits.  I don’t mind since you have never asked me to buy you clothing.  You even come by on Saturdays as well, after hanging out with me all week long, but I always wonder where you go on Sundays and public holidays.  I assume you go to Church on Sundays and on public holidays, well, who knows.

 

Of course, trouble started recently when I discovered that you had developed a bad case of ringworm.  I drew the line there.  In as much as we have had a good relationship, you really do not expect me to continue this with you in this condition, I mean, who wants to catch a disea…er infection and spend time in the hospital. I have not budgeted hospital time in my plan for this month so please, you need to go to the hospital to take care of this thing.  Listen, I did do you a favor, I gave you some money you deserved and told you to go and treat it. I also asked you to call me only after you have been cured so that we can discuss how we can continue this relationship.  You took the money and you left.

 

Four days later you showed up at my house. …yes I looked out my window, saw you and thought to myself…”no you didn’t”.  You had to get all dramatic on me.  You arrived and ran into my other…well, the new person in my life, or should I say, the temp.  You blew your top, you said you could see I got another person to take your place….So?  You said it seems I don’t seem to need you anymore…Well, I told you to call me before you came back, right? If you had done that and not just shown up at my doorstep like a relative with bad news from the village, we would not be having this conversation right now. You basically told me that I could make my temporary relationship a permanent one…who was I to argue with you, your belligerence is unbecoming, I guess I don’t need you too, after all, who are you to tell me what relationships to keep temporary or to make permanent. 

 

I totally understand that you are angry that I “cheated” on you with another, but so what, your replacement as my driver is already doing a better job of driving the kids to school safely and me to work.   Seeing as you are already walking away, I will keep my dignity and not beg you to come back, and oh, while you are at it, please change that pink Tomie Billfiger shirt you keep wearing, the smell has stunned my nose into submission and long funked up my car!! Mstcheeeeeeeeeeew…...

New Lagos

On my way to go and get my passport in NY, I passed so many towns, I went by New Haven, New London, New Rochelle and even New Lagos!!!!!!

Believe me, in Connecticut, Exit 39, there it was, New Lagos!!!

This was one exit that I had to get off. New Lagos? In America?

The sign just off the exit said, Welcome to New Lagos, Rest Stop 2 miles, Gas, Lodging and Food, 5 Miles!!! I told Yemi we had to check this place out. So we got off the freeway at Exit 39.

I was expecting to see McDonalds with a Mobil gas station but instead, I saw "Obalende Suya" with a Total gas station in the corner.

They even had their orange gas cylinders arranged for people who wanted to buy cooking gas. I thought this was America? We approached the Obalende suya building and as we entered, a lady came out to greet us. She smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. She had hips that swayed with every bounce.

"What would you guys like to eat?" Gosh, she her Pepsodent smile came with close-up appeal, her teeth were shining and that little gap-tooth was sexy.

I love women with gap tooth, they are always created beautiful. The truth is I have never seen a woman with a gap tooth who is ugly. Period.

Yemi: Do you have eba?

Woman: We have everything, Eba, okro, fufu, pounded yam, jollof rice, Mbanaga soup, okporoko, gizzard and isi ewu for desert, in short, anything you want, we give you.

Yemi: I will have eba please.

Me: I want pounded yam with Okro soup, my sister, where are you from, cos your beauty seems to be heavenly ordained.

I was getting carried away by this woman and her smile was certainly captivating.

This was not one of those juju where I could have sworn that she hit my bum and I started following her everywhere but it certainly seemed like it. Neither did she blow any powder in my face that has started to mesmerize me.

Remember in Nigeria when people use to sweet-talk folks, maybe blow powder in their face and ask them to go and bring their mother's jewelry and their father's hard currency? Those days were hard sha.

Worse was the tale of the disappearing "thingi"!!! Guys were walking with their hands in their pockets, refusing to shake anyone's hand while the women would walk sometimes with their hands across their chest, refusing to hug anyone. Those were really suspicious times but anyway, this lady sure had me going hmmmm.

Girl: My name is Omari, I am from the Buguma area where the Niger meets the rivers of all rivers..

Me: Yemi, you sure say she no be mami water as she fine so?

Omari: I love your GM

Me: I am sorry, I don't drive General Motors vehicle, I drive a Toyota.

Omari: No foolish, that's not what I mean.

Me: Your fineness, pray , what do you mean?

Omari: I meant, I love your Glutus Maximus

Me: (Whispering to Yemi) Chei, Yemi, I never siddon, she don dey checkout my yansh

Me: Even me, I like as you rock your defenders as you move, you face just dey shine like oyinbo own. What perfume is that you are wearing?

Omari: Contradiction.

Me: I don't blame you, you are a contradiction to all the Nigerian women I have seen, special in your own way, well, make I no talk anymore, I don't want to...don't want.....

As I tried to continue, I started to choke on the appetizer, the bone from the fried fish was hooking me.

ME: Damn, I asked for tilapia fish, why is this fish somersaulting in my throat?

Yemi started banging my back as if he was trying to make the fish do a break dance in my throat. See the kind of friends I have?

Mamiwater, sorry, Omari came over and scolded him, started rubbing my back in an upward motion and I am not sure what happened in those two minutes, but the bone was suddenly gone.

She was feeding me the pounded yam and okro. Swallowing gari or gari substitutes was a remedy for fish bone giving you the choke hold.

Me: A beg, I know its winter but can you please put on the AC, as you are standing so close to me, I am feeling very hot.

Omari: Its too cold to put on the AC, I am sure you are one of those people who like to drive on the highway with the window all the way down.

ME: How do you know that? And don't tell me you saw me on TV...(as if..)

Anyway, look, I hear you cook a mean jollof rice with sweet potato and ribs, any chance I might get to sink my teeth into that after I am done with this poundo and okro?

Omari: How did you know that?

Me: Apart from the fact that you are famous? I hear all Buguma women cook like that. The only people that come close are the Sapele women. Its all in the water. Look at the whole country, everywhere that is near water has a soup that can make you bite your finger..Mbanga soup, edikaikong, even okro in the Calabar format can make you hmmm.

Do you know that Ofe Nsala started near Onitsha at the banks of River Niger. Compare that to Gbegiri soup that came from Kwara..See when the North produces excessive groundnut, they ship it to Kwara and those people grind it to make Gbegiri.

Yemi: How do you know all this?

Me: Ah, stay there, where were you when they were teaching nutritional geography in FGC? Let me break it down for you.

Me: Do you know why they call Ibo people, Nyamiri? They are always begging for water, why do you think they are all over Lagos? There is no running water in Lagos and they can sure live without it if they have to.

Look at all your Ibo friends when they eat, They can eat a sack of akpu with egusi soup and not a drop of water will go down with it. The rumour is that they even rubbed off on Bendel People as I have witnessed in some of my friends.

That's why Ibos are generally called "Aje okuta ma m'omi" which means we eat stones and still don't drink water. I don't think we rubbed off well on some Bendel people sha because my ex-roommate used to pass out on the couch after trying such patented experiments.

On the other leg, we have my Yoruba friends who will drown the little rice left in the pot in oil. Like we used to say in secondary school, if you dey cook Yoruba food and you never put oil, you never start be that.

I went to my friend's house on numerous occasions to eat (I only go when they are cooking anyway) and when dinner was served, I saw the chicken swimming in oil, trying to stay afloat, at least I knew it wasn't "anu 404" (dog meat) since dogs can swim in any liquid medium.

One time, I was eating pounded yam, and after rolling the poundo, it fell into the soup. For the next 10 minutes, I wasn't getting any sonar response, the black box on the plate couldn't reveal an inconsistent liquid level and after the NTSB (my host) invited divers (a fork), the debris was located and deposited in my stomach for further enzyme analysis.

Nowadays, I take an oil drill when I go to his house, at about $22 a barrel, I could still come out ahead of Bill Gates.

But have you noticed that you can tell where a person is from by how they fry plantain?

After conducting analysis at the Omoibo Institute of Technology, we discovered that Yoruba people will soak the plantain in oil and deep fry??? While Ibo people will use the tiniest bit of oil so they can have enough left over to run the generator!!!

Now to the land of dry air, chapped lips and bland food. This was where the art of making suya started.

Get a dog, bang it on the head and by 6pm, you are selling out on the corner of Angwar Sariki and General Market in Kaduna. Its hard to stay away from suya even if you know that Bingo disappeared a day before.

The only thing different we got in Kaduna was plenty of rice and Camel meat which at the time I thought tasted like chicken even though it was really really HARD!!!!

So you see, "I know my stuff."

Me: Anyway, beautiful one, we have to start running, we have a long day ahead of us at the Embassy.

Since it will be a long day, could you pack one plate of Mbanga Soup and pounded yam, some of that suya, extra spicy jollof rice with fried meat, gizzard as we've never seen it.

Yemi, do you want to add anything?

Yemi: Me I just want Eba.

Me: You never ask for much do you..Omari, thanks for hosting us, we enjoyed your smile, oh just for next time, there is a difference between dancing to sweet mother the African way and dancing to it as if it is Russian ballet and you are dancing to the Nut Cracker.

Keep the smile going, I will keep in touch after all, your rice leaves a lot to be remembered as well as your hands that managed to remove the bone from my neck.

We will try to pass by on our way back.

Please, on our way back, can you call all your friends that look like you and ask them to come for dinner, we wont mind meeting them.

Oya, yemi, make we dey go!!!!!!

There's A Reason Why!!

Once a while in our lifetime, we go through ups and downs. When things are going well for us, if we remember, we thank our God and we never fail to blame the devil (real or imagined) for the bad times we go through. Events happen in our daily lives that make an impact on us in ways we might not know or understand. We meet people daily, make new friends, go to school, get a degree, get a job, drive to work, have lunch with friends, party till we drop, go to work late, get fired from work and start all over again. These events dont just happen. The person we meet today might hire us for a job tomorrow or we might even marry them. What you learn in a lecture today could stimulate a business idea that will make you tons of money in the future. On the flipside, the test you failed yesterday could spur you to study hard for tomorrow's examination. The car accident you saw on TV will make you a careful driver when next you are on the road, when you get kicked out of a grocery store for no reason, you begin to have a new perspective on racism. There is a lot to learn when life is speaking to us. When the results of my final examinations in Nigeria were released, they were quite appalling and I thought that was the begining of the end of an education for me. I thought entrance into a university was out of the question, at least for now. I cried a lot during that time and my mother kept trying to calm me down because she felt, there was a reason this was happening.

My secondary school education was at Federal Government College, Kaduna in Northern Nigeria. The system was such that we had to take about fourteen classses ranging from Introduction to technology, art, home economics to Social Studies and the three Nigerian Languages. After completing what we called the Junior Secondary School in three years, we had to sit for a nationwide examination to qualify to go ion to the Senior Secondary School that lasts for three years as well. Students who passed the JSS examination moved on while those who did not make it had to repeat a year and attempt the exam again the following year. In all, it still amazes me how we managed the 14 subjects we were constantly being tested on. At the Senior Secondary School level (SSS1-SSS3), the subjects were scaled back to nine. How the educational authorities came up with this magic number is unknown to me but I assumed we had to do the core subects - maths, english and at least two sciences and to give us a well rounded education a bunch of other subject. In any case, I ended up with Mathematics, English Language, English Literature, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Agricultural Science and Igbo, a Nigerian language. I had wanted to be an engineer since I was good at repairing and wrecking things around the house especially electrical equipments. I had also at a different time wanted to be an architect, I love houses, structures and I still have my idea of a dream house. After three years of SSS, we were required to take two major examinations in order to get into one of the Nigerian Universities. One of the exams was the Joint Admissions and Matriculations Board (JAMB) which is somewhat like the CPA examination for accountants in the sense that it consists of four individual exams which includes the use of English and three others depending on your intended major. The second examination was the SSCE which is much like the finals in colleges but harder since it tests what you have learnt in a particular subject for the past three years. Both were very important to every students future. If you made the requuired grade in both, you went on to one of the universities and if you failed one of the two, you technically shut the door on a university education for that year. Unlike the SAT or the GRE, these exams were only offered once a year. In any case, university admission was only once a year. In a simple sentence, I clonked the SSCE. At that point, I began to notice that everything about life was an abbreviation.

My mother always believed there was a reason for everything. She is a very special person so you have to believe it when she tells you that. After my results arrived at my house, there was a lot of tension at home. To say my dad was astounded is an understatement. My dad is someone many would call an academic. He expected a lot from his children and being the first, he probably hated the idea of this trend being emulated by my siblings. This is beside the fact that it seemed as if good money was being thrown away with nothing to show for it. Looking back now, good money was being wasted and since I now pay my own bills, it is easy to put myself in the mindset of a parent. My failure meant that more money was to be spent on and extra year of education on which money had previously being invested. It also meant that instead of being at the University where I could partially fend for myself, I was still at home where I was going to be fed full time and who knows probably eat into other people's ration. Everything meant more money and this investment was yielding no returns. My poor result meant that I could not get into a university for the 1991/1992 session. My results were mailed to me in Nairobi, Kenya where my father works for one of the international agencies and my mother made every effort to enrol me into a school so I could take my exams over again. Numerous visits to schools around the area yielded nothing. Many of them wanted to set me back by two-three years and I was not about to start high school all over again. I finally paid a visit to Nairobi Academy with my parents. It was one of the private schools in Nairobi and one of the good ones too. After a series of test and interviews, they agreed to accept me. A new chapter in my life had just begun.

I still had fears of what lay in my future. I was trying to erase the image of me as a baggage handler/tout at the bus station since these were the occupations my father said we might end up in if we did not study hard. I was back in school for the 1991/92 session and I had no social life whatsoever. All I could think about was University. To keep myself focused, I joined the track, soccer and volleyball team, the three areas I enjoy passionately. My books and my sports activities were all that kept body and soul together. The initial plan (or should I say my father's plan since I was not yet beyond my childhood fantasy plans) was to start my undergraduate career in one of the Nigerian Universities. By this time, the Career and Counseling Committee made up of my father, my dad and my male parent had decided that whatever happens, I was going to be an economics major. I had no choice, I could not be an engineer since I already flunked Physics and Chemistry in my SSCE; I was not sure what course a baker or a carpenter could study at the University level. If I had the choice, I could have gone pro but the question then is pro-what? In any case, who was I to argue, after all, the buck starts and stops in the same place, my father's pocket. The school year went along fine, I was concentrating with no distractions. I started excelling in the classroom and on the sports field. I won various awards for both my academic work and for track. I was almost made captain of my house had I not decided to leave the school later. The question of what University I might be headed to came up again as we were midway through the school year. The CCC still believed that a Nigerian University was the best place to get an undergraduate degree and only then should one seek an advanced degree outside the shores of the country. Well, a lot of events conspired in my favor. The most important but unfortunate event was the shut down of almost all the Nigerian universities because the academic staff was on strike protesting the non payment of their wages. That meant that the chances of going to a Nigerian university was becoming bleak. The other alternative was to go to a university in Kenya and I did not cherish the thought of that because by this time, I longed to be with my peers and frankly, I wanted to leave home and try new things.

I started my application process about February of 1992 for the fall of the same year. I applied to Michigan State University, University of Michigan and a host of Canadian universities that had closed their application process for that year. Somehow, the colorful brochure of Northeastern Univeristy in Boston caught my eye at one of the offices I visited in Nairobi and I got hooked. Was I guillible or what? How often do you go to a school because of the fine architecture without for a second thinking about all the other factors? Schools now play on the fact that students fall for colorful booklets. They take pictures of fine buildings and sometimes ugly ones from a good angle, print them, invite you to campus just as soon as they finish construction on a new classroom building. They make sure your whole visit to the school centers around that building and afterwards, they take you to the best cafeteria on campus to sample the food that has been specially prepared to entice you to the school. It was all about showboating and a lot of people always fell for that including me. Northeastern began to respond to my mail and at a point I had decided that that was where I was headed, provided of course that I was accepted and my father approved. After a couple of missing mails and request for more information, I finally got my admission letter on July 30, 1992. My mother came to me and said "I told you to be patient, there is a reason you could not get into school in Nigeria, a better opportunity has now arisen, make use of it" Actually, I already knew that, I am sure my dad was also happy but he hardly ever jumped for joy unless he got a visit from Jesus Christ. Inwardly, he was smiling but externally, his expression was telling you that he was no Chase Manhattan Bank.

There's A Party Over There

There's A Party Over There

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I don't blame my favorite comedian (Tragedy) of one BET show who said he would let a friend drink and drive as long as he was not in the car. Unfortunately, he did not mention anything about sleeping and driving.

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It was the weekend after July 4. Simi Sanni (I think everyone knows her) was throwing a party that was billed as the party of the summer. Some called it "the summer jam", others called it " the New York party" while the rest called it "a QC party" (Mind you Simi is an alumni of Queens College (QC), Lagos. Days before the party, people would call her up and ask


"Ah, Simi, I heard you are throwing a QC/KC/FGC/FGGC reunion and everyone that is anyone will be there"
"Who said? Who are these people coming? Who is telling them about my party???"
"Aha now!! Simi you know you are famous now!!!"
"what are you saying, I don't want all these strangers at my party!"
"I don't know about these people, but them people will plenty there"
"shey you are coming?"
"Yeah, we will probably be coming in a van with them people"
"alright, talk to you later"


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A bunch of us were to go from Boston. Tayo was to rent a van and the rest were to bring themselves. The plan was going well until a little skirmish occured. You see, the summer gives people a lot more free time and I think some of them were suffering from "hot flashes." To cut the short story shorter, I pulled the plug on the NY trip. Why???? "What do you mean why", I was furious. Them people were pissing me off. In the end, it turned out they were all trifling. I couldn't be bothered to mention names here (for fear of being sued? I think not) so I will skip to the next part. Anyway, we gloated and gloated until Simi called me.

"What do you mean you are no longer coming to my party" Simi interrogated
"Them people......" I was trying to give my excuse but Simi was relentless.
"Them people what?? Please don't give me that excuse, is it me or them people that invited you to the party. Forget about them o jere"
"Alright, we will leave on Saturday morning"
"You give me directions"
"Do you know New York"
"who is he?? Just kidding, no, but I can find my way sha"
"When you get to NY, head to Uptown Manhattan, between 170st and 171st, you should look for Haven Ave."
"How do I know I am in uptown vs downtown. In Boston, the road slopes downwards downtown so should I look for a climbing road??"
"If the numbers are decreasing, you are going south and if they are increasing, you are going North"
"Actually, don't worry, I will call AAA for proper directions

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It was Tayo, Funke, M&M and Dalu with me at the at the wheel. We arrived New York and with a combination of Simi's directions and Tayo's flair for New York City, we found the Venue of the party. I had forgotten to call AAA. We got to the apartment sha and boy was Simi frowning because them people were suppose to shop and cook for her. They were nowhere to be found. Simi was not in the mood at all. Anyway, we all sat down, admired the view of the hudson river from the window and watched the fish in the aquarium float. I think one of the fish looked like Funke. After a while, Simi was still not in a good mood and I tried to cheer her up."Haba, you will soon be having guests, you have to look better than a xmas goat ke!!"I think that cheered her up and in any case since there was nothing to do then, we stored our stuff in the room and headed for Queens to see Tayo's aunt. In Queens, we ate so much, Dalu and M&M slept off. The food was that good, both in Quality and in Quantity.

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(Lyrics) I thought I told you that we won't stop, I thought I told you that we won't stop , I thought I told you that we won't stop, I thought I told you that we won't stop hehe hehe...Oh I need to know, where we stand.....


That was the music jamming when we finally came in from Brooklyn where we had gone after Queens. It was so hot in there, even the fish were feeling hot in their aquarium. There were more girls than guys and I am sure some of the ladies that were jonesing were laying their curses one by one on Simi. Some of them were not dancing and they looked like Chickens trying to lay eggs because they sat by the window so long. If you ask me, it was a plot to suffocate those who were dancing by blocking air flow into the room. The places was crowded and the oxygen level was going real fast. We had to go downstairs once in a while to breathe in the New York air which wasn't any better. I have to give Simi props on behalf of someone who told me they underestimated Simi and did not realize she could draw such a crowd.

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The party ended at 4a.m. Of course the NYPD was in attendance. Anyway, Tayo and Dalu wanted out, they wanted to start heading to Boston especially since someone suggested we wait and arrange some furniture. I don't think so!!!


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"Dozie, shey you can drive?" Tayo asked
" Sure, since you guys don't want to go to Dayo's place to crash, we can head home"
"Well, wake me up if you need help"
Tayo, Funke and M&M fell asleep as soon as we took off. They did not even notice
that I got lost before I found my way out of New York.

Exit NY
Enter Connecticut.
"Dozie, Dozie, Dozie!!!!!!!!" That phrase will forever be in my mind whenever I drive long distance and I doubt the others will forget it either. It was Funke shouting. Thank God we were not in my house, someone outside would have thought otherwise. We had almost gone off the road.
"Dozie, take it easy, step on the brakes" I heard another voice in the back shout. Now At this point, you have to imagine James Bond in one of his movies spinning the car and if you can't, take your mind back to secondary school when guys use to bring cars to school and spin the car 360 degrees. Well ours was better. We did a 540 degree turn, ended up with a burst tire after slamming into the barrier. If you ask me, Tayo could work at the Secret Service protecting the President. As soon as that car slammed the barrier, the next thing I heard was

"Every body, gerrout!!It might explode (insert Mission Impossible Theme song)

We used the cell phone to call 911. 911 was busy. The second time we tried, we got through. They CT State Police came in 2mins and guess what????After checking our Ids, the guy gave us a $78 ticket for facing the wrong direction on the highway. At least he drove us to the train station, our car was no longer drivable.


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We got to Boston in a daze. The Bonanza bus we caught in Providence pulled into South Station. we were happy that at least we had eight lives left. God said it wasn't time yet. I realize life is short.Enjoy it while you can and Don't let friends sleep and drive. We heard some people got kicked out of Simi's apartment in New York for reasons best known to Simi and them people.

Fast Chick Factor

BRING SOMETHING WHEN YOU ARE COMING

My roommate just picked up the ringing pone. It was Dr. Darkberi on the line. She was kind enough to invite us to her abode for a get-together., as our fridge was kinda empty and we were about to headover to Hong Kong in Harvard Square. The way we figured it, we knew there was a 80-20 chance of meeting hour-glass figures at Dr. Darkberi's place, so we went. We stopped by star market to buy drinks as she requested. We had done our part. Everybody brought something, wine, chips, doritos, ice cream and beer as they trooped in. So why did my humble friend (F. Smooth) bring BREAD to the party???? I am still trying to figure that out. He did not even bring butter to make the passage of the bread down my throat easier.



FAST CHICK FACTOR

I didn't know much about this till I got on the Esteemed Boston Talk show "Dr. Darkberi Talk Hour" It's a very informational talk show unlike the trash you see on TV these days and there, you can afford to be honest. Participants are not paid even though food is provided (beaucoup plenty). Anyway, Dr. Darkberi is a Boston based pharmacist who sometimes moonlights as a "love doctor" cum "picnic organizer. But I digress. The Dr. bought up an interesting theory, which is applicable to the real world of women. The FCF theory - the Fast Chick Factor. According to her, the FCF is a pollutant in today's dating scene. A woman could be "talking" to a guy, taking her time to know him, maybe also thinking she's got it going good, maybe also giving the guy a hard time (as society warrants). All of a sudden, like an Amtrak train squashing a squirrel, the woman is hit with the FCF. There's another chick in town and she's got "your man" [mind you, the "talking" part went fast for this chick]. Now that's the Fast Chick Factor for you.
Dr. Darkberi is not encouraging you to rush into relationships but she thinks it is fair warning to the slow ones or those who take their time so they know what they are up against. Different people were present at the talkshow, we had your truly,

- a psychologist/business strategist from Harvard whose role was to lecture us on the different strategies for eliminating the Fast Chick Factor

- another love doctor/Banker from the Nevada Love Nest who is an expert in assessing returns on love.

- a computer expert from the South End Inc was there to tell us how email plays a bigger role in fostering the FCF),

- an FBI agent from Mission Park Agency (somewhat like Agent Maulder and Agent Scully) who was there to investigate the sightings of the Fast Chicks.

- and finally, a World Bank Representative to tell us how to apportion our love and at the same time introduce some Love Adjustment Programs.



THE USHER FACTOR

On a different segment of the same talk show, the Usher effect was introduced. The way I understand it, a couple could be having a quarrel and the guy now goes to another woman to complain and to seek solace. Unfortunately, this is where the Usher effect creeps in. Now you all have heard the song by one small rich boy that goes somewhat like this

".you make me want to leave the one am with and be in a relationship with you."

Take Tony and Stella for example, they have a quarrel and Stella refuses to talk to Tony for a few days. Tony has no choice now but goes to Rose for "advice" In the process of complaining about Stella and getting advice, Tony starts to see something good about Rose, something he had never seen before, something he had never felt before. I know, I know, I know you feel a Dij` vu. Now after dispensing advice (negative or positive who knows) Rose starts to think, well, if their relationship was that strong, he won't be here anyway, so what the h - - l. At the same time, Tony is singing a popular reggae song in his head,

"Girl, you look so fine, you-make my body tremble all the time."

Before you know, the Usher effect has fully kicked in, Tony and Rose become a couple, Stella smashes her "Usher" CD and starts to listen to "someone is sleeping in my bed", while Rose is careful not to quarrel with Tony. The Editor would like to add that, if you've got a problem, talk it out, don't let an old problem follow you to a new day. Cheap Love Therapy sessions are offered by the love doctor from the Nevada Love Nest. He only charges $25 per session - for real!!!

LETTERS FROM THE FATHER-LAND

Dear Songri,

How are you?, How is your Doxology? I hope you are swimming in the ocean of health. How are all the women over there? I hear they are in plentitude, specifically the American women and they are fiiiiinnnnee. Karibi received your letter and in it you said you were interested in one American girl? Ishi black or ishi white? You know that if you marry Akata woman, papa go Skata you. You marry oyibo and he will totally finish you. Anyway, as your brother, I can only say be careful, you're my boy so I understand. I kind of hinted mama about what you said. She said the important thing is for you to marry for love. Anytime she tries to talk to papa, he says he is open-minded but he wants you to come home and marry. Papa actually thinks that you will marry the pastor's daughter when you come back. He is so naove (that's the word you taught me right?). He doesn't know what Eghosa has being doing with all the boys and men in this town, but mama knows. He may be open-minded but mama is broad-minded. Anyway, I will gist you when you come back.

Anyway, the MAIN purpose of this missive is to forward papa's message to you about his mode of transportation which for which I am not provided a key. He says his Daewoo Racer is giving the following problems and he is tired of paying Ikeregbe (Remember the mechanic) to repair them. The booth cannot open with the key, we have to bang it three times before it will open The gear box is not good because he stops too many times in the go slow. Nowadays, the car can only move in reverse. The other day, he almost hit bom-boy while reversing. The right trafficator in the car is no longer working, papa was almost in an accident because of that, so these days, he only makes left turns. So therefore, even though papa said to ask you for money to repair all of these things, I think it will be better if you ship a new car when you are coming this december. At least that way, we have two trafficators and we wont keep going left till we reach Mile 2 or Festac. Oh yeah, make sure it is Automatic - you don't want to send bom-boy's to the hospital. If you can put a remote control booth, that will be excellent. It is difficult to carry a bag or rice, put it down, bang on the booth three times and then carry the bag of rice up again. Please, my back is killing me these days and you don't want to send me to the hospital. And don't forget to add money for fuel or petrol whatever you call it.

By the way, mama said to thank you for all the pails you bought the last time. If you had not bought any pail in this house, we wouldn't be able to fetch water from Mama Alago's house. Sorry I keep forgetting that you Americanas like to call everything differently, I am talking about the buckets in case you have forgotten what we call it here.

Yours in Brotherhood

Oghenechukwu