Paradoxical Discovery

PARADOXICAL DISCOVERY

    “The Horse.” Coach Burgos called right in the dressing room, squatting.

    “Yes, Coach.” Ikem responded as he was seated on the tiled floor unwinding himself.

    The tete-a-tete was necessitated by a football match Ikem’s team just had few minutes back with their closest rival, in the city of Toledo, Spain. 

    Ikem Ogbuehi - popularly known as ‘The Horse’, a Spanish-based Nigerian striker who played in one of the second-division Spanish clubs, Superoni FC had been the talk of the day ever since he joined the club about eight months back owing to his resilient and exemplary attribute. Prior to his stay in the club, he was actively playing in one of the amateur clubs in Nigeria. Aside his dogged and fascinating style of approaching football, since he became a player in Superoni FC, there was no match he couldn’t score at least a goal for the club; as a result of this outstanding and historic record, he was reckoned to be the Horse of the Superoni FC, which remained one of the most respected football clubs in the history of Spain. Ikem who doubled as an Under-17 (U-17) player in the Nigerian Golden Eaglets was doing everything humanly possible to ensure that he lived up to the expectations.

    “You really did very well in that match.” Coach Burgos complimented, still squatting.

    Ikem’s Spanish coach, Mr Wilson Burgos had thought it wise to commend him for his wonderful performance, which wasn’t unusual, during the match the club just had with their rival. In that very match, Ikem who played wing number 8 both in the club and in the Nigerian U-17 team scored a hat-trick. The coach just moved very close to where he was unwinding amid his fellow players.

    “Thank you, Coach.” He replied, head bent. Still seated on the tiled floor.

    “If you continue like this,” Coach Burgos rode on. “I bet you, you will go places.”

    Ikem listened attentively.

    “You’re a blessing to your generation.” The coach asserted, paused. “But you must remain consistent and persistent, because you still have places to go.”

    Ikem remained calm.

    “And,” Mr Burgos continued. “Stay away from women.” He teased, pointing one of his right fingers at him.

    Ikem laughed. “Thank you, Coach.” He appreciated.

    “That’s my boy!” the 40-year-old white coach exclaimed cheerfully, stylishly tapped Ikem’s head with his left hand concurrently. Stood up and walked away.

    Ikem smiled as he watched his pleasant boss depart for other corner in the resting room.

    The following week of the year (2006), Ikem Ogbuehi was invited by the Nigerian U-17 team coach to feature in the upcoming qualifier match against their Ghanaian counterpart for the 2007 U-17 World Cup to be hosted by South Korea, and he complied as usual.

    The match which was meant to take place in Benin City, Edo State, Nigeria was scheduled for March 17, 2006.

    On Wednesday 15^th of March, 2006, two days to the awaited match, every invited player had assembled at the camping ground in Lagos State and therein they headed in unison for Benin City the venue for the match; the team which was made up of over 25 home and foreign-based players coupled with three coaches was travelling via land in two white Coaster buses amid tight security. It was initially a smooth journey till they ran into an unfortunate situation along the Benin-Asaba Expressway in Benin metropolis, Edo State about one kilometre to the hotel they were meant to lodge in. At the front gate of the University of Benin commonly addressed as UniBen, the leading Coaster bus struck one of the male students of the university who was about crossing the expressway as it (the bus) tried to dodge a glaring pothole situated in the centre of the federal road.

    Every player in the two buses including Ikem who was in the second bus quickly moved out to rescue the relatively conscious victim who happened to be a 24-year-old final year undergraduate student of the school amidst an abrupt crowd.

    “Chidi…!” Ikem shouted furiously the moment he got to the spot.

    The sudden and surprising exclamation aroused striking looks from his fellow players as well as coaches.

    “Daddy...!” the victim who was lying by the roadside subconsciously responded, gasped for air.

    He was hurriedly rushed to a nearby hospital, and therein the doctor in charge assured them that the poor dude would bounced back in a short while having ascertained the real state of his entire body system.  

    “Who’s that guy?” the head coach of the team Mr Damilola asked Ikem having called him out to one of the lonely corners in the hospital for a crucial inevitable interrogation in respect to what transpired at the scene of the accident.

   “Which guy?” Ikem pretentiously dished out.

   “The victim, of course,” Mr Damilola reiterated. “We all heard him; he called you Daddy.”

    “He’s my son,” the interviewee who wasn’t obviously in a good mood finally answered. “If you must know.” He added frankly.

    “What?” the astonished Damilola uttered. “Your son?”

    What a paradoxical discovery!

    The mind-blowing and untold truth was that Chidi, the victim, who was begotten out of wedlock twenty-four years back, was the first child of Ikem Ogbuehi; the Lilliputian Ikem who was actually born in February 1961 begot him (Chidi) when he was barely 21-year old, few years after his secondary education. Unfortunately, at that point in his life, nature chose to unravel the hidden idiosyncrasies that were covered by his miniature look; just as the saying goes, ‘Three things cannot be long hidden – the sun, the moon, and the truth’.

    Apparently, the 45-year-old Mr Ikem Ogbuehi was left with no option right in that hospital than to let the cat out of the bag.

    The following day, the banner headline of virtually all the local and national tabloids in Nigeria read, ‘An U-17 player fathers a 24-year-old man.’

    Consequently, Ikem was indefinitely suspended by his Spanish league, whereas he was asked by the Nigerian football governing body to apply for voluntary retirement.

    But, who was to be blamed for Ikem’s bogus odyssey? Think about it!

Follow me: @mediambassador

http://facebook.com/fred4nwaoozr

    

#WisdomTablets (3)

Life itself is a Gamble
________________

You are probably yet to realize that the world is not
unlike a gambling field. And life itself is a gamble. The
truth is, irrespective of the amount of time, energy,
and resources you have sacrificed in a certain project,
if LUCK refused to shine on you, you are nowhere
close to the success room.

Luck has proven beyond doubts to be the supreme
determinant of our respective accomplishments here
on earth. Suffice it to say that if it failed to visit you,
SORRY remains your name. Worse still, it's very, very
selective, and operates beyond mankind's understanding
and imagination. You can't tell whose turn it would be the
next minute. Funnily enough, the next second could be
the turn of that person you referred to as a moron.

However, it's noteworthy that one must make a move
before luck would shine on him/her. It doesn't shine on
someone who is stationary. 'Stationary' in the sense that
you must display a reasonable effort. So, that luck exists
as well as dominates doesn't imply that you ought to await
it even when you are stagnant and docile. Don't forget,
even for luck to visit real life gamblers, they must display
convincing efforts towards emerging victorious.

Hence, summarily, you are expected to work, pray and
thereafter wait for your luck. If it doesn't shine, then keep
working and praying till it remembers you. #ThinkAboutIt


Follow me: @mediambassador
http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor

Nigeria, Still on the Track @56

2016 Independence Anniversary Sonnet
______________________________

It's indeed a lovely day
So, love it with passion.
It doesn't look pitiable
So, why the compassion?

Nigeria as a country
Has not done badly.
So, as a people,
Let's rejoice proudly.

Please, my dear people,
Don't get me wrongly.
Because our dear country
Is still walking boldly.

I truly love this day
So, let's meet today!

Follow me: @mediambassador
http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor

Forbidden Fruit

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

    “Can somebody say alleluia?” Pastor Afolabi urged right from his pulpit.

    “Alleluia!” the congregants chorused unanimously in a high tone.

    “Can someone shout a bigger alleluia?”

    “Alle – lu – ia!!” they reiterated in a more thunderous tone.

    “The Lord is good.” shouted Pastor Afolabi who wore white suit alongside white plain trousers and black plain shoes.

    “All the time.” They followed suit as the tradition requested.

    Pastor Ken Afolabi, a 48-year-old father of five, of the Jehovah Rescue International Church was a well-known ordained man of God who was seen by all and sundry, both within and beyond, as a man who knew his onions. Everyone including the onlookers felt elated whenever they had a glance of him; needless to state that he wasn’t just highly respected but a reputable cleric. He spent most of his time conducting deliverance among members of his church’s congregation who yearned for such as well as invariably took time to let impecunious individuals understood that the sky was their stepping stone if they so believed. This singular feature of his person made people, particularly the economically less-privileged, see him as a god-sent.

    “Good morning, Pastor.” Mrs Kemi greeted, head bent immediately after the church service.

    She had walked up to him the moment he stepped out of the church building, about entering his private car.

    “Good morning, madam…” he responded cheerfully. “Mrs Kolawole, right?” He quickly recollected, pointing one of his left fingers at her.

    “Yes Pastor.” She clarified, waist bent as a mark of respect.

    Mrs Kemi Kolawole was one of the staunch members of the church that could boast of about three hundred consistent worshippers.

    “Hope all is well?” Pastor Afolabi inquired, stylishly leaning on his ash Toyota Corolla car.

    “Pastor, I will like to see you.” She hinted, standing about a metre away from him.

    Mrs Kemi got married to her lovely husband Mr Gbenga Kolawole three years back; the couple was yet to boast of a baby’s cry, and it presumed that no pregnancy was forthcoming. They thought it wise that it was high time they sought the cleric’s intervention, spiritual wise, after series of persuasions from the affected woman. The partners, who wedded at the said church, met each other there prior to their union; so they could confide in the cleric for any kind of consultation.

    “Okay,” the resplendent Pastor Afolabi replied. “Let’s meet in my office tomorrow being Monday.”

    “Around what time, Sir?” the 37-year-old Mrs kemi enquired, stood still.

    “Would 10am be okay by you?”

    “Yes Pastor.”

    “Okay then,” he said, shook his car keys. “Let’s meet by 10.” He landed, dashed into the car.

    “Thank you, Sir.” She appreciated, majestically took her leave.

    The following day, they met as scheduled. During the meeting, having disclosed to the cleric her mission, he suggested deliverance for her which according to him would be due after a rigorous seven days fasting and prayer to be observed by the couple. In addition, he told her that while the proposed fasting period lasts, she would be expected to spend her days and nights in the church, after which she would be eligible to go home.

    After all said and done, few weeks later, Mrs kemi took in; the segment ushered in a jubilation galore in her matrimonial home. Nine months on, she successfully gave birth to a bouncing baby girl. She was named Opeyemi.

    At this time, her hubby Mr Kolawole couldn’t hesitate to disclose to everyone that came to cheer with the family that Pastor Afolabi was the brain behind the family’s emancipation.

    Subsequently, in four years time, the couple Mr & Mrs Kolawole could boast of three children – two males and a female.

    Opeyemi the first child and only daughter of the couple wasn’t academically bright, hence they considered sending her to a boarding school where she would be closely monitored towards attaining academic excellence, though the school she was sent to – Greater Children Primary School was also situated in Ekiti State, South-West, Nigeria, where her parents hailed from and lived too. When she got to 11 years, she proceeded her secondary education in Greater Teenagers Secondary School, a sister school to the former, founded by the same proprietor.

    Coincidentally, Pastor Ken Afolabi was in good terms with the Proprietor of the aforesaid schools, Chief Dan Olabiyi. So the cleric usually went to both schools, which were situated in the same compound, to counsel the pupils and students. This was one of the reasons Opeyemi’s parents sent her to the school.

    At 17, Opeyemi wasn’t living up to the expectations, most especially regarding her social life; and she alongside her peers were preparing for their Senior Secondary Certificate Examinations (SSCE). Hence, her Principal sent her to Pastor Afolabi’s office for private counselling, and deliverance if necessary, as it was often done in the school. The cleric never knew the girl’s parental background and he wasn’t bothered to ascertain either.

    Having met the cleric, it was assumed that all her problems had been solved. Funnily enough, few weeks later, Opeyemi tested positive to pregnancy; the diagnosis, which was conducted by the effort of her school’s management, was occasioned by the abrupt weird attitudes of the teenager.

    When the news was broken to her parents Mr & Mrs Kolawole, it was like the end of the world for the family. Everything was ostensibly happening at breakneck speed.

    When interrogated by her parents right before the school’s management, Opeyemi disclosed unequivocally that Pastor Ken Afolabi was solely responsible for the pregnancy.

    “What…?” Her mother, Mrs Kemi managed to exclaim, passed out instantly.

    Everybody stared at the poor girl in silent awe.

    The untold truth remained that Opeyemi was Pastor Afolabi’s daughter; a secret only known and kept by the cleric and Opeyemi’s mum, Mrs. Kemi Kolawole. That very week 17-years back when she was placed on a compulsory one-week fasting, which made her to spend nights at the church, owing to her alleged inability to conceive, the cleric convinced her to sleep with him, stating that that was the only way she could take in; and the hidden melodrama yielded Opeyemi.

     But as God would have it, Opeyemi’s siblings were Mr Kolawole’s biological children; which implied that the couple was just impatient or in a hurry to have a child.

     Opeyemi was raped by the so-called pastor - her supposed biological father, right in his office on that very day she was sent to him by her school’s principal. She was urged by the randy cleric not to discuss the incident with anybody, unknowingly to him that the unwarranted tango would yield a forbidden fruit.

     So, are we to charge the cleric for deceit, infidelity, adultery, rape, incest, paedophilia, or what have you? Think about it!

Follow me: @mediambassador

http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor 

 

               

Hideous Truth (II)

HIDEOUS TRUTH (II)

    Thereafter, when the unthinkable news got to their respective parents, it sounded not unlike a mere dream to their hearing, particularly Ete’s.       
   The said couple Elder and Mrs Obong wouldn’t in their entire life imagine that their ‘lovable’ first son was a gay even if they in any way dreamt of it. They wondered where the young man had learnt such nauseous and pathetic lifestyle; ‘could it be during his university time or while in secondary school, or was he born with it’? These among other frightening questions surrounded their aging medulla oblongata. However, such way of life wasn’t peculiar to their lineage.

    On their part, Mr and Mrs Abang cursed the very day their daughter, Ukot came across the ‘idiot’. They felt like they had been duped or double crossed by one who disguised himself sometime ago like a suitor; no doubt, Mr Ete came to pay their daughter’s bride-price in disguise. They didn’t only cast a spell on the day Ukot met Ete, but as well cursed the latter for such manner of deceit employed by his person in the name of ‘marriage’. To say the least, they spent days without even a bolus of meal.

    Surely, if you were in the shoes of the aforementioned couples, you would definitely say far more than what they said as well as do more than what they did, because the unforeseen incident wasn’t just mind-boggling but highly astonishing and unbelievable. However, what else would they do than to accept their fate in good faith as well as seek for the way-forward?

    “I am very sorry for everything,” Ete pleaded with Ukot right in their matrimonial room, kneeling down. “I can feel all the pains I have caused you.”

    The melodrama was taking place in the morning the following day after the unspeakable incident. At that moment, Ukot who felt like a woman that just had a stillbirth was lying pitiably in their matrimonial bed, facing upwards.

    “I know I have really deceived you,” Ete rode on, still knelt down like one who had apoplexy. “In fact, I don’t even deserve you.”

    Ukot remained hopeless and speechless on the bed.

    “I don’t even deserve your presence,” he confessed, gushed out tears. “Let alone your love.”

    She unconditionally followed suit as regards the weep; hers was fathomless.

    “I am just like a monster in your life.” He frankly asserted, cried aloud. “God, why me…?” He said, looking at the ceiling.

    They actually wept like toddlers.

    Oh, they had a little weep together just like any couple in love would. The past good memories were ostensibly coming back again gradually as they sobbed endlessly. Their only solace remained the true love they once shared.

    He held her passionately while still on his knees. “Please, forgive me…” He eventually asked at the top of his voice.

    Ukot looked at him still lying down. “You killed my emotions.” She finally broke her silence sorrowfully. “You have murdered my feelings.”

    Their faces were conspicuously covered with unquantifiable tears. “I know.” Ete submissively admitted. “I am not just a monster to you, I am equally a murderer.” He ironically asserted.

    “You pierced my heart,” she continued resentfully and emotionally. “You struck the arrow right in my heart.”

    “I am sorry…,” Ete reiterated. “I have come to resurrect you.” He informed poetically.

   There was a bit silence. “It won’t happen again, I promise.” He assured.

   The truth was that Ukot was really in love with Ete; she developed a very soft spot for him during their courtship that lasted for awhile. When they were courting, Ete showered her with explicit care and anything a woman wished to behold; that was exactly when she felt complete having someone like him in her life. But unfortunately, the euphoria automatically vanished the moment they tied the nuptial knots that was long overdue considering Ete’s age.

    “You promised?” Ukot verified in a jiffy.

    Anyone around would say she was mad to have descended so low; any other lady would had wanted to employ some tactics or a reasonable delay before reconciling with him, but it was damn obvious that she couldn’t cope without him. Nature was really at work that she couldn’t resist his seemingly irritating presence; of course, taking into consideration what she witnessed at Avocado Hotel, she needn’t a counsellor to ask her to steer clear from him at least for that very moment.

    “Of course, I promise.” Ete reiterated aloud compassionately, stood up and calmly raised her head bearing plaited hairs from the bed.

    This time, she was seated on the bed alongside Ete.

    After all said and done, an absolute reconciliation took its place, though she accepted the reunion only on a condition that Ete would go for a thorough deliverance in the hands of a genuine cleric which was assented to by the man in question.

    When Ukot’s parents learnt of the reconciliation rather than divorce, they were of the view that their daughter was indeed insane. Ukot made them understand that that was when her spouse needed her presence most, claiming that God had sent her to him to make him a new creature.

    On their part, Ete’s parents couldn’t hold their joy on hearing that Ukot never sought for a divorce which was the most anticipated suitable reaction. Thus, they remained grateful to her for such rare courageous and humane gesture displayed. To them, they owed her not just a lot but the whole world.

    As God would have it, a week later, Ete was successfully delivered from the beast called homosexuality. Consequently, they became a better and greater union again.

    When the both parents learnt that Ete had genuinely turned a new leaf, they couldn’t believe their ears. It was like a fabricated tale. Who on earth would agree that the hideous truth would eventually turn to a pleasant one. Aside them, every tongue was filled with ‘God bless the god-sent Ukot’. Mr and Mrs Abang were left with no other choice than to revoke the spell they cast on the young man who once derailed.

   There and behold, few weeks later, Ukot was confirmed one-month pregnant. Consequently, nine months on, she put to bed a bouncing baby boy.

    It was celebration galore. Surely, the tongue that had earlier spoken evil had finally testified that truly the Lord remained the Alpha and Omega.   

Follow me: @mediambassador

http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor       

Hideous Truth

HIDEOUS TRUTH

    “Ete my son,” the 75-year-old Elder Obong called right in his sitting room. “We invited you home to hear from the horse’s mouth.”

    His 66-year-old wife, Mrs Obong who was seated very close to him nodded.

    Ete, a 45-year-old successful young man based in Uyo, Akwa-Ibom State, Nigeria who worked with one of the oil servicing firms in the said state in which he also hailed from, was the first child of the above named couple. He obviously had anything money could afford. That he was still a bachelor at 45 in spite of the fact that all his younger ones had gotten married, was to say the least a thought-provoking and striking phenomenon to all his loved ones particularly his beloved parents, Elder & Mrs D.A. Obong.

    “We want to know why you are still single.” Elder Obong who was sharing with his wife one of the three-in-one upholstery chairs in the room said succinctly.

    His amiable wife nodded as usual.

    Ete who was seated directly opposite his parents in a single upholstery chair remained calm and silent. Prior to this moment, he needed not a seer to inform him the purpose of that very meeting which marked the umpteenth time a meeting would be hosted by his father for such reason.

    “You are the dream of every lady.” The old man attested frankly.

     Mrs Obong assented via a nod.

    “If anything is the matter, please kindly tell us.” He added.

    “Besides,” his mother chipped in. “Since we gave birth to you, we haven’t seen you with any woman.”

    Elder Obong concurred through a nod.

    “Not even for once.” She landed.

    “Please my son, tell us the truth,” the Chief Host continued. “What’s exactly the problem?”

    Ete noisily exhaled fathomless air, shook his crossed legs continuously and placed his left arm on his left chin. “Papa and Mama,” he finally broke his silence. “You worry yourselves over nothing.” He said, paused. “There’s nothing absolutely wrong with me.”

    “Then, why the unnecessary wait?” his father ranted, concurrently tapped his right leg on the tiled floor furiously.

    His mother slightly clapped her hands continuously indicating how amusing her son’s statement sounded.

    “I’m waiting for the appropriate time.”

    “Appropriate time…?” the old man quarrelled. “Did I hear you say appropriate time?”

    “My son,” she chipped in. “Why are you doing this to us.”

    Ete was unresponsive.

    “What have we done to deserve this?” She added.

    “How many of your mates are still single?” Elder Obong proceeded emphatically. “Answer me, how many of them?”

    “Or even at your working place,” Mrs Obong came in again. “How many of your male colleagues are single?” She reiterated.

    She was of the view that even a 20-year-old man who was privileged to secure the kind of job Ete had wouldn’t wait for a second before getting married let alone Ete, 45 despite the fact that he got the said job over six years back.

     The bombardment from the old couple continued to an extent that the interviewee couldn’t bear the tension any longer. Hence, he pleaded to take a leave; or would I say, he walked out on them. He left for Uyo that very moment in one of his private cars he came with.

     Henceforth, Mr Ete Obong thought it wise to keep a reasonable distance from his parents in order not to encounter further query. Notwithstanding, the distance never served as a deterrent to the old  but agile couple who were seriously willing and prepared to sacrifice anything towards ensuring that their first son who had turned a deaf ear to their unrelenting importunities settled down without further ado.

    As time went on, the persuasive argument which proceeded unabatedly via phone calls became so intense and severe that Ete was left with no other option than to do otherwise, perhaps just to fulfill all righteousness. In view of this, he tied the long overdue nuptial knots with Ukot Abang, 34, a young lady he came across few weeks back in the city of Uyo.

     The long awaited union brought another explicit joy to the entire family of Obong that on the day of the white wedding, the family was agog. Elder Obong who couldn’t hide his extreme gladness felt not unlike a 20-year-old man; to him, it was like a dream come true.

     Having fulfilled the expected righteousness, the newly wedded man was relieved of the endless trauma which was solely manufactured by his elderly parents. Ironically, it seemed the trauma was shifted to his innocent wife, Ukot. For several months instantly after their honeymoon, which lasted barely fourteen days, Ete hardly paid attention to her especially on issues relating to bed affairs.

      He went to work on weekdays and returned late at night almost on a daily basis, and when confronted by the wife he would tender frivolous excuses. More pitiably, at the weekends when he was meant to spend more time with her, he would prefer to hang out with his so-called friends. The melodrama lingered persistently until she decided to share the ugly experience with both her biological and matrimonial parents.

     The aforesaid couples - Elder & Mrs Obong and Mr & Mrs Abang, who frowned at the incident the moment they separately received the complaint took their precious times to enquire from Ete why he had chosen to treat his wife cruelly rather than doing the needful, even when everyone earnestly looked forward to hear the cry of a newborn baby. The defendant who claimed that his actions weren’t deliberate, therein abjured the idiosyncrasy.

     Consequently, he adjusted his lifestyle as promised for a few weeks but later reawoke his real self. This time, it was densely unbearable. Hence, Ukot made up her mind to spy on him, thus she employed an expert to do the critical job.   

     “Hello madam.” The spy called Ukot on phone as she picked the call.

      It was barely two days after she assigned the work to him.

     “Yes Bassey.” She answered.

     “Please, are you alone?” Bassey inquired.

     “What’s it?”

     “I’ve an important message for you.”

     “Go ahead.” She urged.

     “Go to Avocado Hotel right now,” he enjoined. “Your husband is about to meet his guest in Room 301.”

     “A woman…?” She exclaimed.

     “Maybe.” Bassey responded with a thick voice. “Good luck, madam.” He added, cut the informative call.

     Avocado hotel was situated about ten kilometres from their place of residence. The moment she arrived at the hotel, she went straight to the room having received a direction from the receptionist; she lied to the receptionist that she was an expected guest.

     As soon as the door was let open by starkly naked Ete on hearing a knock which he thought came from an awaited waitress, Ukot could not believe what she saw. Right in the hotel bed was a nude young man who appeared to be in his early thirties partly covered with the bedspread. It wasn’t even her fellow woman as she presumed.

    The astonished Ete was speechless, stood still at the door. Whilst the other deviant seemed paralysed as he lied helplessly in the bed.

     So, ab initio this had been the reason for his weird lifestyle? Really pathetic and astonishing.

    Therein, Ukot who couldn’t withstand the ignominy attached to the hideous truth passed out right at the entrance.

    What transpired afterwards ought to be a story for another day. Think about it! 

Follow me: @mediambassador

http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor 

 

 

                

Across The Border

ACROSS THE BORDER

    Anyone was liable to insinuate that he was psychologically suffering from myopia. If not, why would he abandon his workshop for an undefined odyssey simply because he yearned for a bigger venture? No wonder he had been putting on a wistful feeling ever since he founded the workshop perhaps out of weariness, having forgotten that a journey of a thousand miles must begin with a step. Nevertheless, only the 34-year-old Dapo knew exactly if such step taken by him was consequential and the needful.

    Dapo, a graduate of Electrical/Electronic Engineering who thought it wise to set up an engineering workshop after his long years of search for a white-collar job proved abortive was really an industrious and intelligent young man who appeared to be very dedicated to his professional handwork. Fascinatingly, he was receiving an encouraging patronage unabatedly because he was unarguably equal to the task. The aforementioned abrupt change of mind transpired barely eleven months after he established the said workshop with the help of his lovable parents owing to the encounter he had with his old time friend, Tunji in one of the famous joints situated in the city of Akure in Ondo State, Nigeria where he resided.

     “Could this be Tunji?” He thought as he caught sight of him in the distance the moment he stepped into the joint.

     It was about 6:13pm on Thursday 17^th of September 2015.

     Tunji, seated at one of the corners in the joint in the company of his contemporary friend Segun of the same age bracket, looked up and also sighted Dapo. “Who am I seeing?” He thought aloud, though wasn’t heard by Dapo who wasn’t yet near.

     “What’s it?” Segun said.

     “The guy who just walked in appears exactly like one of my close pals called Dapo those days in the university.” Tunji cleared the air.

     “May be he’s the one.” Segun reasoned.

     Within a few seconds, Dapo walked closer to where they were seated. The moment he got there, he became astonished having confirmed that it was Tunji. Little did he know that he would come across him again in his lifetime. “Tunji!” He managed to utter.

     “Oh my God,” Tunji exclaimed dumbfoundedly, stood up hastily. “So it’s you, Dapo!”

     They hugged each other passionately.

     Segun smiled heavily as he observed the reunion.

     It was indeed a nostalgic moment.

     Dapo was instantly offered a seat at the round table. Prior to his arrival, Tunji and Segun had already emptied some bottles of lager beer coupled with plates of pepper soup. He was enjoined to join the chorus. “What are you doing in Akure?” He asked Tunji.

      “I came to see my friend.” Tunji replied, pointing at Segun. “Please, forgive my manners.” He asked Dapo having acknowledged that he was yet to make the needed introductions.

      “No wahala.” Dapo accepted.

      “Please meet Segun, my beloved pal.” Tunji rode on, gesticulating. “He also hails from this state.”

      Dapo being an indigene of Ondo State nodded in appreciation.

     “Segun, please meet Dapo,” Tunji continued in a similar style. “He was one of the best brains during our days in UniLag.” He enthused frantically.

     Dapo and Tunji were both engineering graduates of the University of Lagos (UniLag), Akoka in Lagos State, Nigeria.

     “He is also a son of the soil.” Tunji landed.

     Tunji was a guest in the state; he hailed from a neighbouring province, Ogun State to be precise.

     Segun quickly straight out his right hand for a handshake; Dapo complied. It was a warmth and pleasant greeting, “Nice to meet you.” Segun dished out amid the handshake.

     “The pleasure is all mine.” Dapo responded.

     Tunji smiled. “Segun and I are both residents of Italy,” He intimated. “We import goods to Nigeria from time to time.”

     Dapo nodded.

     “So, do you based here?” He asked Dapo.

     “Yea,” said Dapo. “Ever since we finished our NYSC about seven years ago, I have been here.”

     “And, what have you been into?” Tunji stylishly enquired.

     “My brother, leave matter for Matthias.” hinted Dapo who wore blue jean trousers, black polo and brown leather slippers.

     “Meaning…?” Tunji who put on black three-quarter jeans, grey T-shirt and white trainers verified.

     “Na long story, my brother.”

     Segun who clad in ash jean trousers, white shirt, black plain shoes and a white face cap shook his head in sympathy as if he already knew the yet to be disclosed tale.

     The incidental get-together lasted for about forty minutes before they departed for their various residences. Prior to their exit, Tunji and Dapo scheduled to meet the following two days at Segun’s place.

     During the said meeting, Tunji and Segun who were drug barons succeeded in winning the mind of the frustrated-looking Dapo. Obviously, the gangsters needed not many words to convince the desperate Dapo that their kind of business was the most ‘lucrative’. Therein, he willing agreed to follow suit.

     The Italian based bachelors who could boast of anything money could afford specialized in exporting such illicit drugs as cocaine and marijuana to various European nations, and at intervals they would import some goods into Nigeria. They had been into the ostensibly successful game for over four years without encountering any hitch.

     Dapo, having gotten the needed modus and operandi of the densely risky venture, made up his mind to sale off his workshop to enable him raise the required capital. He consequently lied to his parents that he was leaving the country for a European nation in search of ‘greener’ pasture. Indeed, he was psychologically myopic as being speculated by those who learnt the silly decision he had taken.            

     On the day of Dapo’s first move in the company of his accomplices Tunji and Segun, specifically on Sunday 4^th of October 2015, three of them were caught at the border with about 92.5 kilograms of cannabis by the men of the Nigeria Customs Service (NCS).

     Afterwards, they found themselves in jail in respect to a verdict, after they willingly pleaded guilty.

Follow me: @mediambassador

http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor

 

What Goes Around

WHAT GOES AROUND

    ‘She’s talkative, brainless, possessed and troublesome, though naturally pretty.’ That was the apt way the 17-year-old Funke could be described by anyone who knew her person to the core. The annoying teen who was still in J.S.S-3 owing to her several failures during exams wasn’t just a nonentity but a girl everyone saw as someone who was mistakenly created. When others were learning, she would be busy disturbing the class. Every effort displayed by her teachers and kin to reshape her unbearable lifestyle were all in vain. The most worrisome was that no one including her helpless parents could prevent her from doing whatever she intended to. She was indeed naughty.

    The good side of her idiosyncrasies was that being the first child of the parents among their six children she was a good cook, though she could help her mother, Jumoke in the kitchen only when she felt like. She was really giving her mother hell; to assert the least, she detested Jumoke unconditionally with passion. Going by her actions, it seemed as if Jumoke was sharing the same man with her. She had been like that from birth, but the attitude was ignored or laughed over hoping that she would definitely turn a new leaf when she grew up.

    ‘What could be the problem?’ ‘Something must be wrong somewhere.’ everyone wondered. In spite of the gravity of the insinuations accompanied with wonders, the bone of contention remained to see who could unravel the mystery.

     The unfortunate intrigues proceeded unendingly to the extent that one fateful day she framed an unspeakable lie against her mum. She falsely notified her dad, Mr Biodun that her mum had been sleeping around with several men.

     “What?” Mr Biodun exclaimed at the top of his voice right in his sitting room the moment he got the forged news.

     “Dad,” she called passionately. “Have I lied to you before?”

     Mr Biodun who was still shocked shook his head.

     Another good side of Funke who was her parents’ only daughter was that, although talkative, she hardly told lies and everyone to include her parents could attest to the fact.

     Both of them were seated in separate upholstery chairs in the sitting room. It was about 3:17pm; she had earlier in the day told the dad that she had something very tangible to discuss with him when she returned from school. The man in question couldn’t wait for her arrival because that was the first time she would engage him in such appointment.

     Jumoke - a hardworking civil servant and an industrious housewife, was yet to return when the lamentable incident was transpiring.

    “So I wouldn’t start now.” Funke claimed.

    “But why haven’t you said this all these while?” Mr Biodun queried.

    “Dad, there’s time for everything.”

    “Oh my God!” the confused Biodun lamented. “Are you very sure about this?” He added.

    “Since you don’t seem to believe me,” she furiously said, stood up. “I’m out of here.”

     “Hold on, hold on, hold on.” He urged.

     “What’s it?” the brat ranted, stood still.

     “Sit down, my daughter.”

      She hastily resumed her seat, frowning.

     “Since when have you been noticing this?”

     “Dad, I have told you all I know,” she responded unfriendly. “No further questions.”

     Thereafter, the successful trader, Mr Biodun couldn’t wait for his wife’s arrival to confront her with the breaking news. In less than fifteen minutes time, the awaited guest whom could best be described as ‘the most wanted’ arrived home just as her intended host anticipated. Therein without much ado, she was confronted with the weird allegation, which she refuted frantically in a depressed and shattered mood. He never disclosed to her the source of the information.

     Consequently, despite the frantic rebuttal from the accused person, within 24 hours Mr Biodun got estranged with her. He sent her back to her paternal home that was virtually deserted owing to her parents’ eternal exit.

     None of her male siblings was residing at home; three of them were all resident in the city. Only members of the extended family could be found within the vicinity. Jumoke was the last child and only daughter of her departed parents amidst their four children.

     Biodun’s abrupt divorce, though informal, with Jumoke was the greatest mistake he had made so far. Jumoke was reckoned to be virtuous that everyone within saw her as an epitome of a real housewife, and every bachelor that knew her longed to settle down with her like. Owing to this, he was severely blamed by all his friends and kin for the unceremonious action taken by him. He never told anyone, except his intimate pals, the genesis of the whole brouhaha. The deed had been done; the most valid question then was who could proffer a remedy to the unwanted scenario.

     Funke later blamed herself for the wicked lie told against her mother. Apart from the guilt, Jumoke’s absence was seriously telling on her alongside her younger siblings; that was when she understood the inevitable impact of a mother, even a cruel type, on her children.

     In spite of the overwhelming speculations as well as blames, Biodun remained firm in his decision, even though the situation was also telling on his person. And, the circumstance lingered unbearably for several months.

     Those who knew the origin of the incidence were of the opinion that Biodun really went astray. To start with, how could he have listened to a girl who was believed by all and sundry to be a member of a coven?

     Jumoke was left with no choice than to go in search of the root cause of her predicament. With the help of one of her childhood friends, Kemi who was deeply touched by her condition, she was lucky to meet a genuine soothsayer who told her the story of her life that was seemingly forgotten.

     “My daughter,” the soothsayer called Jumoke in the company of her friend. “You are the cause of your problem.” He frankly hinted.

     “What?” Kemi exclaimed in awe.

     “How do you mean, Baba?” Jumoke enquired apprehensively.

     “Many years ago…” the soothsayer began the awaited tale.

     Jumoke being the only daughter of her late parents, prior to her marriage with Biodun, she was the only companion her mother had when she was still alive, after her father’s departure. And, she was a very stubborn and wild girl, though she later calmed down the moment she tied the nuptial knots, that in most occasions she ended up nagging with or talking rudely to her mother; she never cared a bit for her (the mother). Her endless unconditional hostility towards her aged mother was giving the woman invariable sleepless nights. The series of intervention coupled with severe warnings from her elder brothers whom were visiting home at intervals, proved abortive. The awful experience lingered till one fateful day when the old woman cast a spell on her (Jumoke); she was told that her daughter would definitely treat her in a similar way when she got married.

     kemi and Jumoke were left dumbfounded after the narrative essay; it was really an untold story. Truly, what goes around comes around. All the men of God Jumoke and her estranged husband had consulted regarding their daughter’s plight never disclosed such tale.

     “What do we do, Baba?” Kemi said.

     “She needs to appease the spirit of her late mother.” The old man landed succinctly.

     After all said and done, Funke was delivered from the attack and her parents were happily married again. The reunion as well as the deliverance ushered in a totally different era in the family of eight.  

Follow: @mediambassador

http://facebook.com/fred4nwaozor