PRAY FOR ME

I woke up one sunday morning and told my daddy......
Just as I turned on my bed despite the harmattan cold I found some comfort in the knowledge that I had washed the dishes the previous night so I didn't have to go through the torture of the icy water.
As I was about to close my eyelids hoping to find some sleep, perhaps I may have the luxury of seeing my prince charming. I heard our Landlady's voice nagging as usual just that today it was my father's turn.
"Ete Emem, ulauka ukpe rent?"
(papa, Emem, won't you pay your rent)
Before my father could answer she had slapped him, by this time I was standing by my wretched father. My father took the Battery  in good faith and apologised quickly by going on his knees.
After our landlady had left, my father turned to met the disappointment in my eyes. I could not speak a word but he could read me like a book, with a look of reassurance he left me standing there in my faded night gown.

Meet my family, we afford three meals a day. You know the groundnut and garri snack saving Nigerians since the 50's.
My father had been a merchant who lost his merchandise to some good samaritan mission he undertook against my mother's warning.
My mother had been a teacher who had to stop work because of the health condition she developed after my father's loss.
Am not an only child but rather than bore you with tales and descriptions of my pot bellied and "tiny bone" siblings let me tell you about myself and what has led me to this dungeon from where am writing these words hoping my father never reads it else he will "kick a jerrican".

"One sunday morning I told my daddy am leaving home, am going to the city tomorrow even though I don't know where to go".
My Dad had warned that I could get broken but I was adamant. Its been four years eleven months since I left home, it's been such a lonely journey. Like my father had said life in the city is not rosy. Seated in my room I keep my gaze fixed on the box of clothes and gifts I had bought to take back to my family. I HAD MADE IT.
I had become a night worker, life had gone on smoothly, I was getting paid and my clients were respectful. Little did I know that the Old women in my mother's village had held a meeting on behalf the previous night, the next day was my last day on this job.
It was going smoothly, he had just paid me, he was my favourite client and he had asked to be my last bus stop. After the marathon I was tucking my cheque of 3million into my box. There was a knock on the door _I was not expecting anyone so I hesitated. I looked at Chief my client and he had gone all white. I moved slowly towards him and asked him what was wrong before his lips could finally let the words hit my ear drums_ the his heart had stopped. He had been pumped with bullets that came through the door.
Soon the police will be here and my life has ended officially. Who will believe me?
"Hello daddy how u doing?
Hope mama is doing ok,
It's bee n 4yrs n 11mths now.
It was true what you said to me,
Life in the city is unbelievable,
I had to struggle to get by everyday.
Daddy pray for me,
Pray I find my way,
Forgive  me father......"
DAREY

#girlfromthesouth

Bad things happen to good people

An attempt at mirroring the woes of a syrian family caught in the middle with ISIS. some details are gotten from Humans of new york.


BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE.

It's a sunny morning, the TV is blaring with more tragedy. The tragedy seems like just stories months before now. Bad things happen to only bad people.
In the comfort of my mansion I sit quietly overlooking the terrace indulging in the most reliable source of vitamin "D". My small family sit around me helping themselves to breakfast. I pour out tea for my husband and parents who had come to our house for a few days. My youngest daughter is seated beside me, she does not want tea this morning she wants orange juice.
I was the lady of the mansion, in command of so many servants, money and fame could have been said to be the reason for my marriage, howbeit it was not. We had come along way together from sharing one plate of food to sharing a thousand exqusite dinners.

The door bell rings , in split seconds the breakfast table is overturned the tea has streaks of blood in it, recovering from the shock I look up and they are standing before me! "You there", they point to my husband come with us, I can hear them asking him questions about his beard, he tried to explain he had just returned from holidays abroad. They shake their head and disbelief and take him away. Just when it seemed the ordeal was over one of the men returned and takes my daughter with them, some liquid runs down my face it turned out to be blood.
For some reasons I did not cry, my heart was gripped with fear. The next day a mail man arrives at the mansion and delivers a package. I rushed to open it hoping it will be some phone or a letter asking for ransom. In that package was blood and my daughter's head, I screamed alerting the  rest of family who came to my rescue. I scream again, I try explaining to my father but he looks at me, his eyes swelling with tears, he rushes and holds me and whispers in my ear, daughter-mine please be calm, do not scream you have lost your voice, do not lose your mind.

#girlfromthesouth

8th SEPTEMBER

It was such a bright day the love of my life had justreturned to Nigeria hopefully to make me his bride.
I had quit my habit to ensure I had cute nails when he would put the precious gem on my finger. I had started working out prior to this , I was perfect for a groom.
 I kept glancing at my phone, pacing my room. I was not shy to call him I just had no means of reaching him.
Few hours past two my "Bae" called he said I should come over to his house which I was glad to.The thought of meeting with my future in-laws made it increasingly difficult for me to find clothes to wear. After what seemed to be a war I found a beautiful gown to wear and I hopped onto a motorcycle and raced down to his house.
 The gate was not locked and I walked in nervous expecting to see my in-laws but I soon disvovered we were "home alone". Calm your nerves  there was no kind of abuse.
I sat patiently while he served me snacks, we spoke at length and I didnt see anywhere the discussion was headed, being a share girl i edged closer and began to show him pictures of some brides hoping he will get the message.
He began to say to me.....

"B, you know how i feel about you. I really love you but the thing is... "
I looked closely at him, his silence seemed to last eternity.
He continued,
"You must get pregnant first before we can take this relationship seriously"
I didnt know what to say to him, I was dumb founded. I got uo slowly and carried my bag set to go,just then I did the unbelievable, I went on my knees I begged him to please change his mind and he simply pushed me away.

It began to rain and he asked that I leave before his parents got back. The entire road was flooded and the flood had gotten up to my knees but in my pain i didnt realise that I only wanted to get home and get high on "PEPSI" .

The pain of what he said to me hurt like hell. Years later I meet him at the mall and for some reason I want the mall to burn with him in it.

#girlfromthesouth

Dear KEN-SARO,
I never met you in person but you inspired my project topic.
I wish I had something to dedicate to your memory bit I have got none.
I only pray that in the midst of all this chaos you spirit strengthens the freedom fighters. You loved the earth and spoke against its constant degr

adation, you have given the Ogoni's something to hold onto and thats your unrelenting efforts. Its gradual but they will get there. I only wish you were alive to advise our brother GEJ am sure he would have listened to you.
#freeogonibus

#girlfromthesouth

Whenever  I think of the tongues wagging in condemnation of my act I wonder if the heavens judge me too.
 Thats how ny sisters letter to me began......

Dear Sister,
I am sorry for running away from home but please sister it was necessary. I could not stand to see you hurt considering my mistake. I know i have deprived you of being an aunt, looking back at it now am sure you would have given me your support; but what was I to do.
Sister I WAS SCARED, remember that boy you warned me about you always said he was good for nothing  and each time i picked up a fight with you.

Sister, he went under my pant and did that thing to me, it was not sweet like my friends told me, it was painful. They akso said my painful menstrual flow will stop one year after that incident it still hurts.

This is how it happened.....
I woke up vomiting one morning when you were away, mother asked me and itold her it was the okra soup that i ate the previous night. Later that day I called Effiong Ata Utop but he was not at his palm wine joint that hot afternoon. In the evening he came to see me under the "UDARA" tree. I told him I was carrying his baby he laughed it off and he dragged me off to a chemist and forced down my throat drugs of all sorts.
I began to bleed that night, mother was getting suspicious and I made my escape. Effiong Ata Utop took me to a quack who used some scary and huge stainless objects to insert into my womb, I screamed with the life threatening pain put he kept on like some skilled workman. I passed out and woke up in a pool of my own blood.
My dear Sister as I write you this letter i have a pipe attached to my bladder because am unable to pass urine normally  there's also some blood clots in it. Sister you do know I love you, sister it seems my life is slowly fading away.

#girlfromthesouth

Tobi was my childhood friend the kind of friends caputured by "Yemi Alade" in her music video"Kissing".
We went every where together, the entire nieghbourhood had gotten us married off in their minds.
We went to the same schools and always ended up in the same class. The teachers did notice us but everyone seemed to have given us approvals.
Years later we had just completed ou service to the nation and i went on a date with Tobi it wasnt something strange we had been doing that for years but this time there were candle lights and hushed tones.
After a plesant meal Tobi asked me to come home with him so he could change his shoes because they hurt so much, he explained  they were new shoes he wore to impress me and I laughed it off. The plan was we would take a stroll around the estate.
He was a master of his keyhole and in no rime he opened the door, after changing his shoes he offered me a drink .....everything goes blurred, i try  to stand and  I trip next I wake up in his arms.!!!
TOBI WHAT HAVE YOU DONE I SCREAMED IN SHOCK AND HE SAYS.....YOU LIKED IT....

#girlfromthesouth

My sincere apologies for not posting in a while. I have had alot of technical difficulties. I owe you all about 7 posts and more; am going to make them today. Be rest assured am not giving it a break, have been writing  for you my dear audience. I have also been doing alot  of reading which will influence my writings for the better remember am just an apprentice. Thank you for understanding.

Expect.....
An Auto-biography of my Dad: his version of the civil war. This may not t be ready until the end of the week.
Domestic violence : a young woman violated by someone she trusted.
The justification for Abortion: a helpless woman's account.

Finally I will fuel your mind and imaginations with the hospitality of my people, in the midst of that you will find young women who long to make a difference to in their lives but are restricted by the society's desire to see them married off. You will find a desperate mother and the scorn of a society.


Keep your fingers crossed....
#girlfromthesouth