Lost Opportunity!

Tolu opened the door to her boss’ office and walked back to her desk. She began to pack up her things and put them in a box. She was surprised by her boss’ reaction to her resignation.

It had become a sing song that he was doing her a favour during her appraisals. He always told her that she deserved a below average but refused to score her that because he did not want to get her sacked.

“Before you will go and tell the whole world that I was the one that made them sack you.” He would always say during each appraisal process.

Tolu got tired of hearing the same thing every six months when her appraisals were due. The constant reminder of her inability to meet her job expectations affected her morale.

 

On her way home a year ago, she bumped into the car of one of her course mates from the University. She had been lost in thought and did not notice that he had stepped on his brakes. When she realized what had happened, Tolu covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. She had just gone through another round of appraisals and each time felt worse than the former.

“Hello!!!! Will you at least come out of the car?” Tunde said as he stood by her side.

“I’m so sorry. Please, it wasn’t intentional. I’m really sorry.” Tolu said as she sobbed.

Tunde gaped at her; his mouth open in surprise. “Tolu!”

She looked at him carefully; shock and embarrassment registered on her face.

“Let us clear off the road so we don’t obstruct traffic. Just park over there.” Tunde pointed to the kerb.

Tolu simply nodded.

When they were both off the road and parked at the kerb, Tunde strolled towards Tolu’s car and sat in the passenger seat.

“What is wrong?”

“I am okay now.” Tolu replied. Even though, they had both graduated with a first class from the University of Ibadan, she could not really call Tunde her friend. He was just a course mate.

“I understand if you want to be alone. I just feel maybe if you shared your problem, we could discuss it and maybe find a solution together.” Tunde shrugged.

Tolu took a deep breath and sighed.

“It’s fine.” Tunde said as he opened the door to let himself out.

“Tunde….I’m really sorry about your car.”

“I have comprehensive insurance.”

“I….I….I am having issues at work.”

Tunde sat back and closed the door. “What kind of issues?”

Tolu told him about the appraisals she had earlier on in the day and her previous appraisals. They discussed at length about her job and Tunde encouraged her to apply to his organization. He worked in a rival company and there was currently a vacancy for the same role she held. He told her maybe what she needed was a job change to prove if she was actually doing that bad.

********

As Tolu boxed what was left of her drawers, she remembered her interview with Orange Financial Services. The interviewers had been surprised when she did a short presentation of the issues bedeviling the financial services industry and how the issues could be resolved.

Tolu had been careful to present only two points whereas she had done an extensive research and had a ten-point agenda.

Orange Financial Services wasted no time in making her an offer. She was offered three times what she was currently earning and was asked to resume immediately. They told her they were willing to pay off her organization her one month’s salary in lieu of notice.

********

The door behind her opened and her boss walked out of his office. “Please reconsider my offer, Tolu. I have discussed with HR and we will match what Orange is willing to pay you.”

Tolu smiled. “No, Thank you sir. It is time for me to move on. Like I said earlier, it has been five years working with you and I’m grateful for the opportunity you gave me.”

********
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Stolen Innocence

“I say who give you belle.” Mama Ngozi shouted as she inched closer to her daughter.

“I…I….” Ngozi stammered.

“You wetin.” She shouted as a resounding slap landed on her daughter’s cheek.

Ngozi looked at her step-dad. Hot tears dropped on her cheeks as she saw the look in his eyes.

“You no fit talk? I say who give you belle?” Mama Ngozi shouted as she pummeled her daughter who was now crouching.

Emeka stood back watching. “E don do.” He said quietly. “I say e don do.” He said raising his voice.

Mama Ngozi turned to look at him with blazing eyes. “Wetin do? Ehn, I say wetin do?” She ignored her daughter for a brief moment.

“No kill am nau!”

“I go kill am if she no tell me the person wey give her belle.”

As Mama Ngozi charged towards her daughter again, Ngozi opened the screen door and ran out of the house in tears.

It was 9.00 pm but she was not bothered. She continued running until she was confident she was far away from her mother’s house.

She walked to the bus park and sat down on a bench. She had three thousand naira with her. The money she had been given to take out the unwanted baby.

She bought a bus ticket and sat in the bus. The tears came again.

Only one person came to mind right now.

Tomorrow morning, she would be embraced by her paternal grandmother.

She would relay the events of the past six months.

She would describe how her innocence was taken away at the age of fifteen.

She would tell her grandmother how she became an object of satisfaction.

She would mention how she cried every night because her heart and her body hurt.

She would explain how hatred burned in her heart and how she had thoughts of killing him each night with the kitchen knife; while he snored loudly beside her mother after visiting her room.

——-

Photo Credit: https://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk

Pursuit of Happiness

Kemi had a frown on her face as everyone smiled at the photographer. Her mum looked at her briefly and nudged her. “Smile. The pictures have to look perfect.”

As Kemi opened her mouth to respond, she saw her father’s face and immediately dropped the idea. She faked a smile and looked at the photographer her dad had paid to cover her graduation.

*****

Ten minutes earlier, her father had told her to start preparing to go for her PhD. She was sick and tired of being controlled by her father but she could not bring herself to stand up to him.

Her father was the reason why she had studied Mechanical Engineering for her first degree. He was also the reason why she was graduating today with a Masters in Mechanical Engineering. She had discussed with her mother the previous night about following her passion which was creating art but she had been told that her father must not hear of it.

She was reminded by her mother that her father had said his two children must be inventors in the field of engineering.

“Mummy, if you are after inventions, I will be an inventor as I create art.”

“Gbé ënu ë sóhùn jàre. Kí lo mò.” (Keep your mouth shut. What do you know?) Your father wants the best for you and your brother.

“And what if his best is not good enough for me, mum?”

“Kemi, of all the things to think of; it is colouring, when you are not a baby.  Whatever your father says is final. I want to go to bed. Tomorrow is your graduation.” Kemi’s mother had concluded.

*****

Kemi felt disgusted as she thought about her discussion with her mum and her father’s PhD proposition. The thought of spending about four years doing her PhD when she could be following her passion upset her. The thought of not being allowed to be independent in her decisions at almost twenty-five annoyed her.

As she lay on her bed later that evening, she began to detest herself. She began to hate her parents and her life began to lose meaning to her.

Will Kemi eventually decide to stand up to her father and pursue her own happiness?

Do you have a similar story to share? Please use the comments section below.

——

Photo Credit: https://www.healthbeatblog.org

A hair’s breadth

Emeka woke up with a start. He pulled the blinds in his room apart and looked outside. The day was bright. He cursed under his breath as he sat up. He picked up his phone which lay on the headboard and looked at it. The time read 6.45a.m. He hissed. It was too late to try rushing to meet up. Even if he could fly to the airport right now, he would not make it. He thought about the amount he had to pay for a no-show and he hissed again. He stood up from his bed and cursed.

He remembered setting his phone alarm to 5.00a.m last night. His luggage was already packed and he had put it beside the door. He could not fathom how sleep had decided to play a fast one on him.

He walked to the bathroom. As he plastered toothpaste on his brush, he picked up the remote control on the bathroom shelf and switched on the TV in the living room. A newscaster was reading the news and Emeka noticed “Breaking news” in caps scrolling behind her. He increased the volume of the TV as he continued to brush.

“…… the Enugu bound plane carrying about 93 passengers crashed a few minutes after take off and…..” Emeka spat out the paste in his mouth as he moved closer to the TV with his brush in his hand. His vision blurred and the images on the TV danced before him. He felt something wet on his left foot and he looked down and realized his mouth had been agape. He ignored the paste on his foot and put his two hands on his head.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” He cried out.

Image result for near death images man shutterstock

——
Photo Credit: https://www.sciencealert.com

Identity Disaster

Mr. Olaiya’s jaw dropped as he looked at the lady standing before him. She was dressed in a skimpy dress that barely covered her thighs. The man holding her by the waist was wearing a white jalabia and the expression on his face was irritation.

“Moriamo, you deny me your father?”

Chief looked at Stella and also at the strange man. “Mr. man, she say she no know you. What is your problem? You are constituting a nuisance and I fit call the police.”

Ah! Moriamo, èmi bàbá ë. Ayé mi!”
“Moriamo, I am your father.” The man exclaimed.

“Chief, let’s go. I don’t know this man and he is embarrassing me.” Stella said.

Ah! Ah! Sèbí, mo sín gbéré sí ë láyà ní ìkókó. Jë ki n ri?
“I made an incision on your chest as a baby. Let me see it.”

“What is he saying?” Chief asked as he looked at Stella.

“I don’t know Chief. I don’t understand what he is saying. Please, let’s go.” Stella said as she pulled Chief away from the scene. The strange man was beginning to garner a few stares.

Chief and Stella left Mr. Olaiya whose hand was on his head in lamentation.

********

The next day, Chief and Stella flew back into Nigeria. Stella convinced Chief that she wanted to cut short her vacation as her encounter with the strange man had made her homesick. She wanted to go home to see her mother and also visit her dead father’s grave; she told him.

Immediately they arrived into the country, Stella took a cab to see her mother in Akute. As the cab took her to her destination, she kept thinking about the encounter she had in the United States. She shook her head to dispel her thoughts as she approached her house.

Stella eased out of the cab, paid the driver and took out her hand luggage from the boot. A woman stood outside an unpainted bungalow throwing corn grains at some chickens. She stopped when she saw Stella walking towards her.

“Ëkáàsán màámi.
“Good afternoon my mother.” Stella said as she knelt down.

Moriamo, ökö mi. Káàbò.”
“Welcome, my husband.”

Báwo ni ilé-ìwé?
“How is school?”

Adúpé mà.
“Thank God.”

Bàámi nkó?
“What about my father?”

Jë ka wö inú ilé náá, ògiri l’étí.”
“Let us go inside. The walls have ears.”

Moriamo dragged her hand luggage into the small living room and put it by the side. As she sat down on the single couch, she looked eagerly at her mother.

Bàbá ë ti lö fa gbùrù ní ilú òyinbó.”
“Your father has travelled abroad to hustle.”

Moriamo bent her head as she thought of her encounter with her father. She knew he was her father. A man knew his children but how was she supposed to explain her business in the U.S? How was she supposed to explain that she had told Chief she was bored in school and wanted to go on vacation? She had had no choice but to deny knowing him. He was right that she had been given an incision on her chest as a child. When she kept falling ill, her father had taken her to visit a herbalist who had give her the incision and her bout of sicknesses had ceased immediately.

As she went to bed that night, she decided the United States was no longer a country to visit.

——–

Photo Credit: https://www.collaborativelifecoaching.com

Stages of Life

Lara saw her best friend on TV and smiled. Yemi was anchoring a game show and she was good at it. Lara remembered how close they were in secondary school. They had been best friends and other students had envied their relationship. A few friends had even tried to come in-between them by telling tales but they had seen beyond the envy and jealousy and stuck together.

Lara went on to study Chemistry at the University of Lagos while Yemi had studied Mass Communication in a University in South Africa. They had tried to keep up their friendship through phone calls and text messages but after a while, Yemi became unreachable. All efforts made by Lara ended fruitlessly and she concluded that Yemi must have changed her number. She had also tried to search for Yemi through Facebook but that had also been unsuccessful.

 

*****

Ten years after graduation from secondary school, Lara watched her friend on TV and was proud of her. Watching her now, she realized the reason why she hadn’t been able to find her on Facebook. Yemi had dropped her first name and was now identified by her second name, Joyce. She did a quick search on Facebook with the new name and found her. She immediately sent her a friend request.

 

A week passed and Lara was yet to get an acceptance from her friend. She decided to send her a message. She was however shocked when she got a rejection to her friend request and a response to her message. The message read; “I have moved on from teenage friendships. Get a life.”

Lara must have read the message a thousand times. She wondered what could have come over her friend. Had she written something that resulted in such a response? She went back to read her message to Yemi again. She had congratulated her friend on the TV programme and told her she was doing a good job. She had also mentioned how she had searched for her for so long; not realizing she had dropped her first name. She had asked her to keep in touch.

As Lara deleted the message, she made a mental note to move on and forget she ever had a friend named Yemi.

—–

Photo Credit: http://www.wikihow.com
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Close shave

Adetutu looked at the clock on her dashboard. It read 9:30p.m. The cars before her slowed down and red tail lights flashed all the way down. She sighed.  She wasn’t expecting traffic on the bridge at this time of the night. She was tired and hungry. What she really longed for right now was to zap into her bed; clothes and all. She was not even sure her mouth could do the job of chewing anything.

She was in this state of lethargy when she noticed strange movements around her. Two young men were walking in between the car lanes; one on her right and another on her far left; two lanes away from her. The one on her right was walking up the bridge while the other moved swiftly in between lanes towards her rear.

Adetutu looked around her and considered it unusual. There were hawkers milling around but these men were not carrying anything to signify that they were hawking. The man on her right went to the car adjacent hers and knocked on the driver’s window. Adetutu’s senses awoke and she immediately tapped her central lock. It was quite dark and she was not sure whether she actually saw a pistol pointed at the driver in the red Toyota Carina ahead or not. The driver’s window was wound down and Adetutu saw a shaky hand with a mobile phone in it. There was a ring with a massive stone on one of the fingers and it glistered in the dark. Adetutu reckoned the driver had to be a woman.

The driver of the Toyota Carina handed over her phone to the man. Adetutu looked to her right. There was a black Toyota Highlander beside her. She saw that a man was behind the wheels. This was happening right in front of him and he wasn’t making any attempt to stop the robbery. Adetutu noticed he was even trying to maneuver his way to the right. She wished she was behind the Toyota Carina because she would have bumped into the car intentionally. She wasn’t sure if the car in front of her was driven by a man or a woman but whoever was behind the wheels was also trying to divert to the left. Was this how everyone was going to leave the lady to her fate? She thought.

The movement of cars trying to save themselves opened up traffic a bit. Adetutu noticed that the lady in the Toyota Carina was about to hand over her handbag to the thief. She slammed on her accelerator and diverted to her right. She hit the Toyota Highlander from the rear and headed straight for the Toyota Carina. The thief saw her too late. Adetutu brushed the Toyota Carina, careful not to cause too much damage before diverting back to the left and speeding off.

She looked in her rear-view mirror and saw the man in the Toyota Highlander getting out of his car. She also noticed that passersby had gathered and were looking at the ground while someone was handing over a handbag back to the woman in the Toyota Carina.

As she sped away, she took a deep breath and hoped she had saved the day.

——
Photo Credit: http://www.ewnews.com

Death wish

The aroma of Tolu’s food wafted out of her kitchen into the nostrils of the other students in the block. It was a block of six flats occupied by students of the University of Lagos. While some students stayed on campus, some preferred to have a home away from home. They rented apartments outside which were close to the school campus.

Tolu heard the knock on her door as she prepared to settle down to consume the bowl of semovita and ilá àsèpò that she had just cooked. She knew who was at the door. There was no need asking. She ignored the knocks.

As she put each chunk of semo into her mouth, the intensity of the knocks increased. She got upset and walked to the kitchen to wash her hands. The persistent knocking continued as she strolled towards the door and opened it.

“Haba Tolu, why didn’t you open the door on time nau?” Feyi asked as her eyes searched round the room like a thief looking for something to steal.

“Ahn…ahn, so you are eating without me now? No wonder.” Feyi continued as she walked to the kitchen, washed her hands and settled down before the bowl of food. She dipped her hand in and began to cut the semo in large chunks, swallowing them in quick succession.

Tolu looked at her without a word.

 

The next day, Tolu walked into Feyi’s flat without knocking. She knew the door was always open during the day.  It was locked only at night. Tolu cleared her throat to announce her presence. Feyi, who was lying down on the floor reading a novel looked up.

“Wassup?” Feyi asked as she dropped her novel on the floor.

“Nothing much. I came to pick up a few things.” Tolu said as she walked towards the kitchen.

“Ehen! You did not keep anything here.” Feyi replied as she stood up and followed Tolu.

Tolu had come with three big polythene bags. She opened the kitchen cabinet and started to empty everything she saw into the polythene bags. Garri, rice, beans, spaghetti, curry, thyme, maggi etc.

“Ahn…ahn…what are you doing nau?” Feyi shouted.

“I am packing the foodstuff we would need for the month.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

Tolu stopped and looked at her. “Pick one. I pack the foodstuffs we would need and you can continue coming to eat your lunch in my place or I poison the meal, so you can die and leave me in peace.”

Feyi’s jaw dropped. “Haba! It hasn’t come to this nau. You should have just told me that you don’t need my company during lunch.”

Tolu burst out into hysterical laughter.

“What is funny? Please just drop my foodstuffs. I won’t come to your flat again.”

“No ma. This is to replace everything you have eaten in the last one month. You can decide not to come again from today.” Tolu said as she began to walk towards the door.

Feyi stood in front of the door and tried to stop her from going out.

“Feyi, don’t try me. You know me from way back in secondary school and you know that I can redesign your face if I get upset.”

Feyi frowned as she moved away from the door. Tolu was known as “mama fighter” in secondary school. Feyi watched helplessly as Tolu strolled out of her apartment with all the foodstuff in her kitchen cabinet in the polythene bags.

As Feyi locked the door to her flat, she decided she did not want to die yet. It was better to stay away than get poisoned.

——

Photo Credit: http://www.familydoctor.org

The Choice of Freedom

Bisola looked at her husband of thirteen years with confusion clearly written on her face. “Was he serious about what he just said?” She thought. “Where had she missed it?” “Was this a result of something going on that she had been blind to?” So many questions that begged for answers.

Ikechukwu walked out of the house and slammed the door behind him. Bisola looked on unable to stop him. Her husband’s statements had torn her and she wondered what she was supposed to do.

******

Ten years ago, Ikechukwu and Bisola had a registry wedding followed by a small reception for close family and friends. It was an agreement between both of them to cut out the unnecessary expenses associated with large weddings and save for their future and that of their kids. They had both prevailed on both families to agree to their decision. It had been difficult for Ikechukwu’s family to accept as he was the first son of the family but he had been adamant. His family insinuated that Bisola was the one manipulating  him do a small wedding. He however explained to them that Bisola’s father also wanted a large wedding but after consultations, her father had agreed to what he proposed. He therefore, told them if his proposed father-in-law could agree; they had no choice but to consent as well.

Ikechukwu worked as a top executive in a commercial bank while Bisola was a sales executive in a pharmaceutical company. In four years, Bisola gave birth to three boys in quick succession. Ikechukwu asked her to take a break from work so that she could give their kids undivided attention. He said he did not like the idea of maids taking care of his kids. Bisola agreed and resigned her job to take care of the home.

However, Bisola knew that she couldn’t sit at home and do nothing while tending to her kids. She therefore, wrote professional exams and acquired entrepreneurial skills. She started bead-making from the money she had saved over time and soon, she became sought after by all and sundry because of her penchant for durable products.

 

Everything was going well for the family of five until last year when Ikechukwu lost his job at the bank as a result of a mass restructuring programme. Ikechukwu became depressed. Bisola tried to cheer her husband up by asking him to invest their joint savings in a business. Bisola advised that they invest in a poultry business which would bring steady income but Ikechukwu wanted more. He couldn’t wait for a gradual increase in their profits. This caused a friction between them as Bisola was skeptical about the business he wanted to invest in.

 

After many weeks of friction in their marriage, Bisola agreed reluctantly and signed the cheque authorizing Ikechukwu to withdraw eighty percent of their savings. In four weeks, Ikechukwu realized he had been scammed and their whole savings of about ten years went down the drain. Bisola was devastated. Their last son had just gained admission into the secondary school. Their upkeep at home had been solely from her bead-making business which had expanded over time.

 

Just when everything seemed to be going downhill, Bisola received a call from an old friend. Her friend told her that a marketing manager was needed in her organization. The company was a pharmaceutical company of repute and she asked Bisola to forward her CV to her. Bisola immediately brushed up her CV and sent it to her friend by email. She hoped and prayed for the much needed break.

Two weeks later, Bisola was invited for an interview and in a month, she received a letter of appointment with a decent salary and an official car. She got home to share the good news with her husband. She had intimated him about the call and had carried him along but she noticed he had been indifferent.

 

Bisola looked at the letter of appointment opened on her laptop. Ikechukwu couldn’t be serious about her having to choose between the job and him. She had listened to him when he asked her to resign her job years ago to take care of the kids. The kids were in boarding house and the last one was going to join them in September. “Why was he being selfish?” She thought. She understood that his inability to provide for them like he used to was depressing for him but now that she had an opportunity to assist financially, why was he giving her an option of choosing between him and a job.

Bisola put her hand on her head as she contemplated on what to do. No, she wasn’t going to reject the offer. She would plead with her husband when he returned to listen to the voice of reason. She prayed in her heart that his ego would not stand in the way.

——

Photo Credit: http://www.shutterstock.com

Pregnant Imaginations

The pregnant lady sitting in the swivel chair at the salon section shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

The manicurist attending to my nails looked at her. “Aunty, you want water?”

“No, thank you.” The lady replied.

“Are you okay?” The manicurist asked; concern written on her face.

The pregnant lady smiled and shifted again; probably trying to find a comfortable position. “Yes, I am fine. Thank you.”

I looked at the pregnant lady and weird ideas for a story just flew into my head. I grinned as my imagination went on overdrive.

I imagined the lady drove to the salon herself.

I imagined this being her first pregnancy and being a little anxious and naive.

I imagined her water breaking while she sat there and going into panic mode immediately.

I imagined me telling her to calm down while I asked for her car keys.

I imagined the whole salon suddenly going abuzz with the salon attendants running helter-skelter wondering what to do and how to help.

I imagined the lady puffing and panting as tears streamed down her cheeks.

I imagined myself driving with crazy speed to the hospital where she was registered (after getting the information from her).

I imagined one of the salon attendants calling her husband through her phone and explaining the situation to him.

I imagined us (myself and one of the salon attendants) waiting patiently in the hospital (after she had been taken into the labour ward) till the arrival of her husband.

I imagined her husband arriving at the hospital with worry lines deeply etched on his forehead.

I imagined her husband calling me hours later that his wife had been delivered of a baby.

I smiled and shook my head as my mind ran different thoughts.

I guess this is one of the reasons I call my mind a creative machine ?

——

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