April 20, 2011


A Word of Encouragement.

In today’s post i want to leave a word of encouragement for somebody. God is the greatest advocate (defender, name – clearer, restorer, supporter, backer and campaigner) and he will settle your case. He is the keeper of your dreams. The lifter of your head. He owns the future and in it you make it. Nobody can seek audience with him just to change his mind about you. Your destiny is sure, secure and nobody can do anything about it. Nobody can steal it, douse it or even delay it... it is finished. The events have been set in motion. It will Be. Believe. Live.

Now to the part that is writing for the sake of writing...

Yesterday was declared “the Omonike public holiday”! Let me explain. My weekends are usually spent divided between meetings, hair appointments, church and choir practice and weekdays are fully packed with work, more choir practice, business meetings and a social life as lean as Joseph’s seven metaphorical cows from bible history. But yesterday was the day i had been telling myself would come. With absolutely no demands on my time and no to do list to check i was ecstatic! I went through the day with this narrative abstractly coming together in my head because it was something to write about- my one perfect lazy day!

I hoped no one would visit and although i had told a friend to spend part of the day with me because i thought i would be bored, now i prayed she’d forgotten. Completely satisfied in my own company i lay on my pink shag rug with clothes i had flung on it for full effect- it was slob day my way so house chores and hygiene were going to have to wait!

Now every expert slob knows that no slob day is complete without food and endless sessions in front of the tube. I stocked on food and movies the day before. I had a plate covered in breakfast in front of me and a pot of “ewure” slowly boiling in the kitchen. The distinct smell of garlic, thyme and goat wafted into the silence that now contained me and the world i stepped into when i opened the pages of “Beside every man” by Serita Jakes.

I groped for a bottle of Coca Cola without taking my eyes off the page, then i remembered that only the day before, an older lady while purring over my fair skin and how i looked “so lovely today” added to her praise, a misplaced comment that i had a tendency to outgrow my “lepa” body in later life. She then proceeded to avert the dreaded day of doom by telling me what to eat or stay away from; “Don’t take Coke” she had said. I nodded feverishly that day but today i took a swig and let the cold, fizzy drink burn the back of my throat.

When i had fed myself till i was weak, i knew i was done on the floor. I inched back to my bed which i had shamelessly slept in way past the wee hours. I lifted my weight with a last effort before crumpling on its brown sheets. And just as i closed my eyes in sweet surrender, an accusing thought crossed my mind, “You have some work from the office”. I dismissed it; after all it was my one day to compensate for meals missed, books unattended, movies ignored and sleep denied!

Today sleep would find me willing and although i was gorged and gravid with food it would be strong enough to carry me.

* Advocate means: 1) Somebody giving support: somebody who supports or speaks in favour of something. 2) A helper: somebody who acts or intercedes on behalf of another. 3) A legal representative: somebody such as a lawyer, who pleads another's case in a legal forum. –Encarta Dictionaries.
*”Ewure” means “goat” in Yoruba.
*”Lepa” is Yoruba slang for “thin”.

April 11, 2011


Hey people, this post i wrote a story, it’s almost fiction and it’s about a character i call Kautar, i hope you enjoy it!


I watched the other two saunter in. Earlier when i walked into the room the last thing on my mind was my surroundings. Now perched on a black plastic chair, i observed them.

In total there were five girls attired in bright colours and bright make- up. One wore a Mohawk invention that gathered the hair around her ears in braids before toppling them in short tufts on her head. The other wore an “Ankara” dress, embellished with sequins and hesitantly stopping short of her knees. The brightest of them had just spilled into the room with an assistant in tow holding on to a bundle of clothes. From my observatory, i noted the one in a black and gold dress topped with a black turban.

I knew who they were.

Had they seen me? I wondered, considering my choice of dress in a quick thought.

Other than my heavily beaded black and silver necklace and my silver bling ring, i was just the girl in a black suit. My hair had been pulled back from my face in a chignon to give me a corporate look.

I looked back at the lady in black and gold, the one who looked important. I knew her without the familiarity of having met her in person.

Had i seen her on the cover of a magazine?

Then it hit me. She was Madame Ferera of House of Raah!

Wild thoughts came alive in my head without my permission and mind took over matter. This was my chance to do something i had wanted to do since coming home from the States!

Presently, she still stood there. Should i strike or walk away?

I looked beyond her to the rest of the girls. How i admired them. They where the famous Raah Models! Day or night they could do their jobs in springs fashion collection while i had to wear suits to work!

But didn’t i like the suit? i wondered at myself.

Did my liking the glamorous life of these models make me like my corporate job less?

Since i was little, i dreamed i would be a model. My parents never approved. They didn’t understand a career that made me show skin.

You will go to University in America then join the family business Kautar, forget this modelling thing.” My father won. But being saddled off to New York to study at NYU turned out to be a good thing. I was a student by day but at night i did what i loved- i took up modelling jobs on the side.

That was then. Now my life had changed. I worked long, arduous hours on my small portable computer producing spread sheets, tackling PowerPoint, developing sales pitches, giving presentations and seating in at strategy sessions, only finding time to feed in between writing reports. But today these girls made me wish for my double life again.

I made up my mind and pushed myself forward.

How much for the photos”? I asked almost too loudly.

My question was directed at the girl standing behind the reception desk.

I had been out of the game for a few years now.

I peeped at them again while the receptionist busied herself with the computer in front of her.

I remembered the catwalk, the beautiful designer clothes, the locations, the freebies, the partying and a feeling of lust for their world assailed me yet again. Transported in thought, i transfigured into my alter ego.

There was no stopping now.

Madame Ferara looked up in surprise as i approached.

“Hi, my name is Kautar” I heard my voice say weakly.

“I am a business analyst by day and a freelance model by night”, i offered, handing her a PSG Consulting business card.

If i proved that i had a strong walk and beneath my suit was a good frame to show off her creations she would hire me” i thought.

“I would love to audition for you sometime”.

She had a look that said “Walk away little girl

I tried again. “That’s my card, can i have yours?”

Say something”, i screamed at her in silence!

She would probably decline.I was coming back to my senses. All my alter ego’s bold powers had left me, only i remained.

She reached into her Miu miu bag,

She was either looking for a gun, a court restriction or a fly- swatter!

“Give me a call sometime...” I must have fainted with my body standing still!

I have no memory of my walk back to the reception to pay for my passport photographs but moments later, i stepped into the sun clutching a black and gold coloured complimentary card in one hand.

Breaths of wind russled up my skirt and i paused to adjust it. I smiled.

I was the business analyst again.
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