Back Story Monday: And The Man Died

If you know me, or of me, you would know that my father passed away some years ago.

Four years ago.

Some days before Christmas Day.

But I've gotten ahead of myself. This is Back Story Monday. The day I give you a little insight to whatever happened to Gypsy Black. My little fashion revolution.

Well, I had been running Gypsy Black for two years with funds from investors who were also my cousins. Unfortunately it had been two years, and a whole lot of money was spent with not a kobo made. My investors were not happy, and needed me to give them reasons to continue, outside of "Hey, what's a couple of millions among family?". So I got a friend to do the books, did some more research, and got ready to placate my investors. I didn't think they would pull the plug, but I needed to be sure, and I wanted them to be comfortable with their decision to bet on me and my dream.

I remember talking to my Dad on the phone about it, and he asked how I was going to pay them back, and I informed him it wasn't a loan; it was an investment. They were not my debtors; they were fellow shareholders in this enterprise. He seemed pleasantly surprised, and said, "I'm proud of you". My father was not a man to give praise easily so it felt good to hear him say that.

That was the last time I spoke to him. A couple of days later he was dead.

What does this have to do with Gypsy Black? Well, enter The Relatives from The Village. 

...My father died in December. We were allowed to bury him in April. Why? Because we had to finish the 10 bedroom house that he had started and abandoned. And I use the word 'finish' loosely because the house had been started on marshland and had sunk halfway underground. So basically, we had to tear down and start again.

I couldn't leave my mum's side and I mean literally because I was afraid she would be kidnapped. By whom (or is it who)? The Relatives from The Village. Apparently, she was supposed to go stay in the village to mourn her dead husband. But...the corpse wasn't in the village, why would she be required to go there? Well, apparently as part of my late father's property, she was to be shared amongst the male relatives. This practice is customary in my part of the country. The wife is shared, so she can be protected and taken care of. So why were we uncomfortable with the request? Well, you see, there was a catch. The relative who got the wife, got the property. So it really wasn't about my mum; it was about property, specifically a 10 bedroom house we were being forced to build.

Sigh.

So here I was, by my mum's side, making sure she didn't cry too much; dealing with my relatives; keeping an eye on my siblings and planning a burial that The Relatives from The Village were determined to turn into a carnival.

By the time, we had buried him. I was exhausted. I saw the body once for probably 15 seconds before he was put in the ground. Before then, the last time I saw him was in August. I couldn't even say goodbye properly because there was such a crowd at the grave screaming and crying. Sure, don't mind me. I'm only trying to bury my father. Of course your loss is unbearable. Your grief supersedes my own.

I hated them all.

And I was so angry.

And so tired.

I just wanted them all to leave so I could say goodbye.

But no, they just kept coming. To tell us sorry. To say your father was a great man. To say your father has touched many people. I didn't care. It didn't matter. My Daddy was gone. All I had left was my mum, and my siblings. My world became black and white. It became about them. Would you help me take care of them? Then, welcome. Were you trying to hurt them or take advantage of them? Then I would do everything I could to protect them.

I didn't have the energy for anything else. Especially not a business that hadn't turned a profit yet. I didn't have the heart to dream my way out if it. All I had was the presence of mind to worry about my mum and my siblings.

So when an old classmate from UNIBEN referred me for an editorial position that would pay me twice as much as I was paying myself I took it.

There was no more Daddy. We had just spent a fortune burying him. The money would come in handy.

Did I intend to abandon Gypsy Black forever? No. I didn't have a plan on how I was going to dig it out of the hole, but I knew...I thought I would come back for it.  

Poems from a Sleepy Housewife(Writer)

One bright day

In the middle of the night

One housewife got up to write

Without tea

She yawned and yawned

Her fingers hovering over keyboard

She thought of Naruto

And thought, maybe just

One episode although write I must

Then she heard a crash and a cry

The Goo had just rolled off their bed.

True Story.

Blast from The Past Thursday (on a Sunday morning)

My apologies. I was out of town, in Ijebu-Ode (more on that later), and couldn't post anything. The internet connection was the stuff scary movies are made of - you know, remote location, unfamiliar locals, and no contact with the outside world. At least, the phones worked so hey, aal iz well.

Now on to business, I missed Blast from The Past Thursday, but I have no intention of depriving you, nehi (yeah, I enjoy the odd Bollywood movie). Here's a short story that I actually finished. First draft, that is. Then abandoned. Enjoy!

THE EGG SHOWER

"I want to thank you all for coming", said C.K., with a smile. "It's a great honour", he continued, "to have so many close friends here to celebrate the highly anticipated arrival of my chick-

"Our chick, dear", Mrs. Jones whispered behind him. The crowd laughed, and C.K. grinned.

"Of course, dear", he said, beaming, "our chick". He turned around to face her, "I also want to thank you dear", she lowered her head with a small smile, "I want to thank you for saying yes to me one year ago at the watering hole."

His wife murmured something inaudible, and lowered her head.

He continued, "I know my dazzling good looks and amazing moves would have wowed any female at the dance" he turned back to their guests and wriggled the crown of gold feathers on his head, "and believe me they did". The crowd laughed. "But you didn't have to marry me, and that's something I never take for granted", he said, turning back to his wife who had raised her head just enough to catch his eye and smile at him. He smiled back, and spread out his wings to hug her.

"Oh how sweet" sniffed a giraffe, and the other guests smiled and nodded in agreement. "Yes it is, isn't it?" said a Zebra, "but I still say he shouldn't be here. A male at an egg shower? It's unheard of."

"I'm sure he-"

"He couldn't stand his wife getting all this attention, that's what." said the Zebra, cutting off a meerkat.

"SSSh! Let's not be rude." said the giraffe, "he's started talking again.

Another giraffe moaned, "Does he ever stop?"

"You can be sure our chick will get my good looks, and intelligence. Breeding always wins out", C.K. was saying, "and of course, he'll get a lot of good things from his mother, of course."

"Like patience", muttered another meerkat.

"Of course, my son will learn everything I know which I learned from my father before me."

"Oh blue sky! Someone make him stop!" said another zebra, slumping against the trunk of a giraffe, "or he'll talk us straight through the night".

"-and we can be sure that the young crane will marry the brightest and best female of his time just like his father."

"Hear! Hear!" said a raspy voice. C.K. looked down from his perch on the acacia tree and noticed a hyena in the midst of his guests of zebras, meerkats and giraffes.

"Zelda, my friend" he said, spreading his wings to hide his wife and egg, "so good of you to come."

Zelda laughed, and said, "I wouldn't have missed your big celebration for all the water in the savannah, dear friend."

to be continued (on Thursday)

Look who's here and turning 30

First of all, apologies. It's been four years and I did nothing with this blog after the first post (bad Timi), but I'm here now. I have been writing and every Thursday, you'll get one Blast From The Past post. It will be an article, or a rant, or an unfinished short story, or the first words of an abandoned novel.

Yeah, I suppose you've noticed that things have stalled, and by that I mean, I stalled. It's kinda of a long story, and so every Monday, you will get a Back Story post.

And by now, you must have noticed, that I'm pulling these days out of my tushie (The Goo will probably read this someday), and you will have rightly deduced that I have near no idea of what I am doing. I'm hoping you can relate and find comfort, or just hilarity in my musings and mess ups till I make it (you see what I did there).

Anyway, I'm back, and I'm here to knock your socks off (or blow up my kitchen trying). Speaking of which, I'm boiling rice for Papa Goo. Later, darlings!

PS. Guess who's turning 30 in a couple of days?