RE-WRITTEN 1

                                           

The Author of “Life” was so pleased with himself. By his reckoning he had written another international bestseller to add to tons of initial ones. He got such accolades for his creations that he was dubbed the King of the bestselling list. However, the way he figured it, “Life” was going to be the best of the lot by a long shot. He absolutely loved the plot and believed it would be a hit that would be translated into every language in the world. He gave the pages of “Life” another once over and saw that it was very good. 

Kemi was beside herself with joy. It was the graduation day for her masters program and she had taken loads of picture on her camera phone to immortalize the moment. She had said cheese enough times to drive any hungry rat mad and was basking in the joy of the moment. There was enough to eat and drink and everyone around her was euphoric.

To make matters better, she had gotten a place in one of the multinational oil companies where she planned to build up a nest egg to enable her travel to America. There, she was going to pursue her PhD while lecturing and researching. She was also engaged, to be married as soon as possible to a guy who was totally besotted with her. Kemi’s future was full of glittering silver linings devoid of clouds.

The hatred Diabo Culebra had for The Author of “Life” was rabid. Diabo was also a gifted writer who wanted to become the best in the world by any means. He felt this could only be achieved by knocking the number one off the bestselling lists. Diabo is twisted in his thoughts and this reflected hugely in his books which are full of terror, gore and blood. If your leaning is towards unrelenting robberies, indiscriminate killings, swathes of destruction, then he is your man. His stories are horrific thrillers that usually end in tragedy and death. This was one of the reasons he could not stomach the Author of “Life” whose stories always had fairy tale endings. Diabo usually referred to him as “The Soppy One” with disgust. His dislike could not be hidden especially since “Life’s” writer had become so wealthy from his works that real estate, sport clubs, mines, zoos, publishing houses, film studios, fashion houses in the tune of billions of dollars belonged to him. Even Forbes has not been able to come close to estimating his net worth. Diabo coveted these things with every fibre of his greedy being. 

Since his pride could not make him stomach coming second to anyone, he decided to strike like the snake he is. Having found a disgruntled staff working for his enemy, he enticed her with 30,000 dollars to betray her master after she told him about the potential of her boss’ new story. The Judas got the story of “Life” on a flash, corrupted and crashed the system of her employer thereby ensuring no copies were left. Subsequently, the story was given to the evil instigator who was so jubilant because he knew how much pain this was going to cause the other writer. The Author of “Life” was so attached to his works that this action wounded his heart deeply.  

Diabo, when he saw the story knew it was a winner and proceeded to change the plot to his own taste which when published was going to put him on top. It was also going to make him some good money but most importantly enrage the original creator.

Though Kemi’s life was rolling on smoothly, she was a bit confused when it came to the issue of marriage. The only feather missing from the cap of her life was a wedding band and now she was in a hurry to get one wrapped around her finger.

She had been going out with Gabriel (she calls him her angel), her classmate in the university and both of them just finished their masters, however he was yet to get a job. On the other hand, there was Teddy, a guy she met at an eatery who had been asking her out forever.

Teddy was a handsome, rich guy about town; the brother was so fine he was nicknamed “The god”! Kemi knew she would never have to struggle financially with a guy like him. She had always dreamt of a grand wedding filled with fun and fireworks. With Gabby, she knew she might not attain that in the next six years and she was tired of waiting. Her attraction for Teddy was more sexual and conniving than anything but she assumed love would grow with the years. For crying out loud, love was overrated! Kemi also intensely disliked Teddy’s habits of smoking and drinking heavily but her philosophy was that people change, so with time, he would do away with them. “The god” was a far cry from Gabby who always listened to her and even when he said no, he did so without really hurting her feelings. Teddy was a different kettle of fish altogether. Once, he was so enraged that he violently slapped her after she got him miffed. Afterwards, he was all sugar and spice, so much that she let it go. Her line of thought was that we are all imperfect beings. However, deep within the sea of her soul, nagging feelings nibbled at her like a school of tiny fish but she managed to pay them no mind.

Kemi went ahead to call it quits with Gabby.

It was a quiet night, one of such beautiful ones when the stars have a winking party. You could hear the philandering winds whisper sweet nothings to every flora in sight. Birds achingly cooed out to their lovers from secret places. It was on such a night that she stabbed her fiancé deeply in the heart with the dagger of treachery.

“Ke-mine (his affectionate moniker for her), why?  You cannot do this to me, o le se mi bayi”. Gabby cried, his face a mask of pain. His visage was akin to that of a little boy who was abandoned in a thick dark forest after trustingly following his mum there at night.  He looked lost.

“Gabby, ko ni work se. It will not work. It is over!” She replied. Having come prepared, she had steeled her heart and formed an implacable dam around it which kept at bay the flood of love pouring from Gabby’s wrenched heart.

As she turned to move away, Gabby grabbed her hand and clung to it.  “Ke-mine, do not throw it all away. Let’s give it another shot. It will work if we give it our all. Please, joor”. He implored beseechingly.

“Gabby, let it go, I am Teddy’s now!”  She said looking into those honey coloured pupils she had recently loved so much.

“Eh! Te-what”? With a wave of disgust washing over his face he dropped her hand like it had suddenly become a viper. He walked away from her with slow motion like movements. His face was a spectrum of utter confusion, disbelief, incomprehension and revulsion until at last he turned and ran like he were demon-possessed.

His final look hurt and shook her but she had made her decision albeit a painful one. She knew mentioning Teddy was going to be the final straw since Gabby could not abide him and always felt he was beneath her.

T he light of the moon formed a halo around the park bench on which she sat and its reflection off the white dress she wore made her seem like a disconsolate ghost as she sobbed her heart out.

By the time she stood up, the memories of the past had been buried in the park and it was a resolute version of herself that strode out.

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned with Teddy. His attitude changed when he realized he was now the head honcho of her heart. They had become live-in-lovers and started sleeping together because he said he wanted to ensure she was fertile before they tied the knot. This was at the insistence of his mum. After six months of not taking in, he took her to see some specialists where they ran a battery of tests on her. She felt like a guinea pig and could not believe what was happening to her.  Firstly, she was amazed that such a cosmopolitan man like her boyfriend could be so traditional and backward. Secondly, she was the one that used to mock her friends that they could stoop so low with all their education and enlightenment and allow some guy make a monkey out of them. By now, she had sacrificed so much that she did not have the mental fortitude to fight. So she gave in, anything so long they could get it out of the way and get married.

Irony of it all was that it was three years now and they still had not gotten married.  Funny thing was that Gabby by this time had walked down the aisle. After their break up he fell in love with a lady who was willing to start out with him at his level. He had gotten a job, his own apartment and was moving up the rungs of his career even though he was still not earning enough to have Teddy’s financial muscle. She saw from the pictures on Facebook that it was a modest affair but not the kind of glorious image she had in mind for herself.

One Friday evening after battling hellish traffic at Ozumba Mbadiwe, Victoria Island, Lagos to get to her home in Victoria Garden City, Lekki, she was beat. On getting home, the main thing on her mind was to soak herself in a steaming hot bath, eat some semolina with Egusi soup, quaff some Fumman pineapple juice, watch a movie and sleep till late morning on Saturday.  All her plans turned out to be the best plans of mice and men….Teddy insisted on her accompanying him to a night club. When she refused, he freaked out and to allow peace reign, she dragged her tired body after him.

On their way back, he was drunk as usual and when she offered to drive, the kind of expletives he unleashed on her would have made a sailor blush.  Cowered, she gave in as usual. On the way, they ran into a broken down truck that had no hazard lights on and to save himself, Teddy swerved the car so that her side of the car took the whole brunt.

When she came to, the first person she heard was Teddy talking to a doctor.

“Doctor, are you sure there is nothing we can do to save the leg? Without a limb, she is useless to me! I can never go out with a cripple, talk more of marrying one.”…

Shattered, she screamed his name which only came out in a hoarse whisper and as they both turned to look at her, she plunged back into the inky river of unconsciousness that welcomed her with comforting arms…

TO BE CONTINUED….
  
© 2013 Ekpo Ezechinyere

ENAMOURED.....

                                            

 The party was a raucous one with loads to eat and drink. I usually enjoyed clubbing but this was on another level. In keeping with my lavish style, Lamide did not skimp in any way. With my golden yellow dress coupled with the ocean of drink I had downed, I felt like a gold fish swimming in a bowl of vodka, dancing and waving its tail like you would not believe it. The DJ certainly knew his onions and was reeling out the kind of songs that made me stamp, stomp and sweat until I was breathless. I was higher than a stoned kite, flying on heady heights, and riding on the wings of marijuana puffs.  This was the life. I did not want to leave, would have wanted to groove all night but finally it was time to go.

I was dropped off in front of my house and as I was fumbling with the bolt of the gate, Davidson opened it for me. I barely returned the greeting he gave me. Looking through him, I walked past, carrying my high stilettos in my hands. Walking barefoot is something I would never ordinarily do but there was no need to “form” for this guy (Forming was something I did so naturally and so consistently that these days I couldn’t even differentiate between pretense and reality). He was not in my league in anyway. The brother was from a world where things were dull and grey while in my world, things were brightly hued in the colours of the rainbow. In comparison to the stormy seas and sky diving aspects of life from which I get my high, the brother was placid waters and a monotonous carousel ride. He was a dove, I was a peacock.

Davidson was a guy who had just moved into the neighbourhood, the flat adjoining mine to be precise. To be honest he was quite good looking but way too religious for my liking. Life was too short for me to kill myself with boredom, mi o le dull ara mi o. Furthermore, he was a bit irritating, if I did not know better I would have sworn he was trying to get fresh with me. Always nice and all over me like a rash, he was eternally trying to help carry my groceries and all. I found the attention cloying and offensive. Puhleeeez!

As I walked into my flat, PHCN, the Prince of darkness waved its wand and everywhere went dark. I wondered when someone would tell the people in power that cutting off power supply in a developing nation is like cutting off the placenta of a growing foetus. The baby dies! This is exactly the reason why the growth of our economy was stunted. However, I will leave this to the economists and so called leaders of this nation while I concentrate on partying and grooving. I do not have a problem so long as I have enough cash to keep fueling up.

I went to put on my generator only to discover that there was not a drop of fuel left. Caught up in the rush for Lamide’s party I had forgotten to buy some and my rechargeable torches were also flat. I had made it a point of duty not to buy candles after I had a heart stopping incident where I nearly burnt my apartment down during my youth service year. The whole flat was stygian dark.

Contrary to people’s popular belief, I was not really a soaring eagle but a pigeon with clipped wings. I had learnt over the years to put up a façade and tried to bury my issues beneath tons of crazy fun, alcohol and drugs.  Nevertheless, they wouldn’t stay dead; they haunted and tortured my soul so much that I rarely ever slept at night. Most nights, no matter how stoned or sloshed with alcohol I was, insomnia still came visiting.

On a night like this, with the thick river of darkness drowning me, I fell apart. The fever of loneliness heated me up until I became delirious. The chills of despondency made me shiver. In my delirium, the demons of unpaid bills, unrealized marketing targets, low self esteem, endless romantic disappointments and financial stress tortured me with heated forks. Their flaming prongs burnt and charred my mind until I could take it no more. I ran into the bathroom where I heaved, retched and almost vomited my innards out. Taking unsteady steps into the living I collapsed into a heap on the floor with a cry of utter exhaustion and an exclamation of Jesus.

Someone knocked on the door timidly at first then more firmly. "Who is that?" I inquired weakly.

“It is I, Davidson. I heard you cry. Please open the door” the rapping continued.

I would rather be alone right now; however, he was quite stubborn and wisdom told me that I might need some help. Since he was not the kind of guy that would barge in unless I opened the door for him, I somehow managed to do that. As he crossed the threshold I fainted into his arms. I was carried to the bed where he tucked me in, gave me some paracetamol when I came to and tepid sponged my face.

“You must be very hungry” He said in an inquiring tone. He was actually right, though I had stuffed myself at the party, the vomiting had weakened me. I nodded in acquiescence.

He brought out his cell phone and made a call, “Gabriel, kindly come to the next flat and bring some fuel with you.”

A few moments later, a middle aged man came into my flat. He was instructed to put on my generator and rustle up something for me to eat.

“I did not know you had a steward” I said stunned beyond belief.

“How would you when you always rejected my friendly gestures.” he responded.

Lights came on in my flat and a few minutes later, I was served the most delicious chicken pepper soup I had ever eaten in my life with freshly squeezed chilled orange juice. I had not felt good like this in ages without some form of drugs or booze.

“Sandra, you need to get some sleep” he said. He tucked me into bed and drew up the sheets. Without any fear of being violated, I drifted into the dreamy world of sleep, with the aid of Frank Edwards’ “Amam ni ino ya (I know you are there)” playing softly from his phone. Last thing that occurred to me was that this dude gives sleep to his beloved.

As the golden fingers of the sun timidly parted my curtains, I woke up. I looked at my bedside clock and realised it was 10:30am. I felt as fresh as a daisy and well rested. My gaze finally rested on his face and I was amazed to see that he watched over me all night long. Aside from his red rimmed eyes, he still looked unsullied by the happenings of a stressful night.  I began to ask myself who this guy really was. Apparently he did not sleep nor slumber during the night because of me.

As the rays of the sun started getting harsh, he quickly got up and fastened my curtains so that they would not strike my face.

That morning we talked and talked without end.  It was a cathartic session for me. He was a dry sponge that tirelessly soaked up the dirty water of my past. Even when I told him things that would have made the ears curl, one would think I just narrated how I took a stroll in a park.  Afterwards, I felt feather light as if all my burdens had been placed on the shoulders of a man who was more awesome than Atlas. I was absolutely enchanted!

These days we are always together, you will see us walking down the street, in restaurants, at movie houses, and everywhere. Yes, you guessed right. We are dating!

THERE IS A FRIEND WHO STICKS CLOSER THAN A BROTHER…..

 © 2013 Ekpo Ezechinyere