Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

What Shall We Say Of These Things?

I'm ba-ack!

Had to take time off everything to have Baby Z.
 
He didn't give me much choice though - worst pregnancy ever!
 
Okay, that's not true but I was so tired. And large. I pretty much switched off on everything except baby stuff. But now that he's here, I can no longer claim pregnancy brain as an excuse. So back to work for me. That means lots of reading before lots of writing. Let's go there!

Monday, May 19, 2014

Delightfully Inconsistent

Show of hands if that describes you in any way, form or manner.

*raises hand and waves*

Yup, I thought so. I'm a card carrying member of that merry band, along with Procrastinators Anonymous. I'm also the mother of The Goo, who when she says the magic word, "@*%"x@" transforms into Super Goo, The Nocturnal Terror.

(PS. The Nocturnal Terror is only one of her many aliases)

Anyway, I'm part of this Blog Tour, invited by my good friend and fellow mummy-writer, Sifa Asani Gowon - www.sifushka.blogspot.com . The deal is she mentioned me on her blog (last Monday) and answered some questions, and then (This Monday) I mention her and three other bloggers, and answer some questions.

It's like a chain letter for blogs, men, dude!

(Does it show that I am sleep deprived?)

So first, the questions:

1. What am I working on?
I am working on (putting the finishing touches on) Anthology 2. It's a collection of stories by female Nigerian writers invited by yours truly to give us Nigerian happy endings. Why happy endings? I'm glad you asked - 'cos the world is depressing as it is. I would like to read something that gives me hope, that tells me it's okay to dream a way out of this pit we've dug ourselves into (talking to you, Nigerians!). So yeah. We're basically done, and in a couple of weeks, I'll be sending it to the publisher, and then going to pray :D

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?
I don't know. Happy endings, I suppose.
(That makes no sense)
I don't know - I haven't really decided on a genre of choice, so I can't say. Feel free to call me Madam Gender-Bender.
(Wait. What?)

3. Why do I write what I do?
Ah!
I like to make people feel. If I can tug at an emotion then I'm happy. Oddly enough, writing happy endings is not exactly easy. (It's not easy, Period!) But it's worth it.

4. How does my writing process work?
That's a funny question.
Hmm. Well, first my internal discipline lever is broken so yeah...but external pressure (I'm ashamed to say) like deadlines are great. That's why the anthologies plan for the year 2014 is so great for me. But my process specifically - I ignore everything else - The Goo, Papa Goo, Meals, Housework and so on - and write. If it's good, yay! If it's not delete, and try again. Later...

So that's me (gosh, I'm entertaining). Next week, you'll hear from:


Kiah, who reads and writes, and likes to eat fried plantain, every day, all day.
www.kiahsscript.com


Pamela Agboga, who writes poems, playlets, short stories and articles.  She recently published her first novel, Weekends are For Loving, and is currently working on a movie script with a friend. She loves reading novels, and watching movies as much as writing, maybe even more, and hopes to beat her writing deadlines this year...so far so good.
www.chowilson.wordpress.com

Xavier Ighorodje, who is a writer of weird fiction, and has not seen it fit to supply his photograph or a bio. So hopefully, this will do (and shame him a little. Muah ha ha!)
www.mrxavierighorodje.wordpress.com



Thursday, April 24, 2014

Farafina Trust: Call For Submissions.

Hello you lovely people!

It's that time again. Time to send in your...okay, let me just put up the official statement and...yeah...

2014 Farafina Trust Creative Writing Workshop Sponsored by Nigerian Breweries Plc
 
 
Farafina Trust will be holding a creative writing workshop in Lagos, organized by award-winning writer and creative director of Farafina Trust, Chimamanda Adichie, from August 5 to August 15 2014. The workshop is sponsored by Nigerian Breweries Plc. Guest writers who will co-teach the workshop alongside Adichie are the Caine Prize Winning Kenyan writer Binyavanga Wainaina, Aslak Sira Myhre and others.

The workshop will take the form of a class. Participants will be assigned a wide range of reading exercises, as well as daily writing exercises. The aim of the workshop is to improve the craft of Nigerian writers and to encourage published and unpublished writers by bringing different perspectives to the art of storytelling. Participation is limited only to those who apply and are accepted.

To apply, send an e-mail to Udonandu2014@gmail.com


Your e-mail subject should read Workshop Application.

The body of the e-mail should contain the following:

1. Your Name

2. Your address

3. A few sentences about yourself

4. A writing sample of between 200 and 800 words. The sample must be either fiction or non-fiction.

All material must be pasted or written in the body of the e-mail. Please Do NOT include any attachments in your e-mail. Applications with attachments will be automatically disqualified. Deadline for submissions is June 30 2014. Only those accepted to the workshop will be notified by July 22 2014. Accommodation in Lagos will be provided for all accepted applicants who are able to attend for the ten-day duration of the workshop. A literary evening of readings, open to the public, will be held at the end of the workshop.

 

 

Okey Adichie

For Farafina Trust



 
 

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Happy New Year!

How did you cross over?

Where were you and what were you doing?

Like most Nigerian Christians, I was at Church, praying my way into the New Year. My husband used to take umbrage at this way of moving into a New Year but he's married to me now so umbrage or not, we go to Church.

I'm going to try really hard not to be preachy but this is my first post of the year (Yay!) so bear with me...

And now I've lost my train of thought (yup, old age).

Oh well, let's talk about a much maligned word - Resolutions.

Do you have any?

I do:

Write. Finish a novel and edit 3 anthologies.

Read 50 books.

Be happy. Take deep breaths. Don't be so easily offended.

Be emotionally independent. Do not allow other people's mood swings swing your moods.

Love. Be patient. Be kind. Do not keep a record of wrongs.

That's it.

There should be something about weight loss and exercise but those aren't resolutions. They are on my to do list. Speaking of weight loss, here's a little sumthin' from the wonderful Miss Wana Wana. It's called Weight Loss. I saw her perform it at Bogobiri and I loved it and her. If you ever can, see her live.

Anywhichway, Happy New Year.

Make Glorious Mistakes. Make Glorious Art.

PS. I figured out (more like discovered) how to do this. Phew!

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

For Your Pleasure: Cut

I fell asleep on my hand, and woke up with that numb, tingly feeling and the residue of a dream. This is the result. Enjoy!

My husband came back early from work today. We had been texting each other all day, so when he came into the house and headed straight for me in the kitchen. I knew he was going to kiss me, then drag me into the bedroom. I knew we were going to make love. Well, he was going to make love to me. I was in it for baby making purposes. After another attempt at biological alchemy, I knew he was going to ask for food, then notice that the house was in a mess.

He would say things like, "What have you been doing all day?"

"Why don't you clean up a little?"

"Kai, if I know say you dirty pass me, I for no marry you".

The last one would be an attempt at humour to diffuse what he would consider to be a tense situation. Tense because in response, I purse my lips, narrow my eyes and say nothing, but my look promises retribution.

Retribution never comes, but it is gratifying to know that the promise of it is enough. Usually. Tonight, I want my pound of flesh, specifically N2,000 worth of roadside peppered beef barbecue.

"Let's go get suya", I say.

I know he will say yes, because he just wants me to be happy, and if it is suya that will make me happy, then it's suya I'll get. He was like that when I was pregnant, traipsing round Ikeja to get me Asun, and Banga soup at odd hours. So we get out of bed, pick out track bottoms from the pile of clothes overflowing from the laundry basket, get clean t-shirts from our closet, and head out with slippers on our feet. I'm wearing my outside slippers. The pair my sister sent from the UK. They are tan with green rhinestones. I think they are pretty. My husband thinks they are garish. I have to remind myself to wear them, because I'm tired of hearing my husband say, "At least, they are better than bathroom slippers".

What's wrong with bathroom slippers? Who is looking at my feet? What does it matter in the grand scheme of things?

But I will not tell him what I am thinking. He will ask annoying questions.

We head out for suya at 10:13PM. There is electricity tonight, so the estate is uncharacteristically quiet. I can hear frogs and crickets, and they assure me that Lagos is not all concrete and hypertension. There is life here as well. I cross my fingers and pray that there's life in me as well. Maybe it's early, but it doesn't hurt to pray.

We walk past the estate gates, and the slumbering security men. My husband hisses. I laugh. I have always considered hissing a feminine tool. He hisses again, "Why are you laughing? They charge us thousands of Naira for security and this is what it comes down to -  open gates at 10pm and sleeping guards?"

"If they were awake, they would have stopped us to ask 20 questions and delayed us".

"At least, I would know my money is working".

I smile at him, put my arm through his and keep walking. "Let's hurry up. I want my suya".

A man jogs past us. I squeeze my husband's arm. He squeezes back. We keep walking. Another man walks down the road towards us. I turn my head around, and notice the street is empty. Where has everybody gone?

The man walks past us. He is wearing a suit sans tie, and nods at my husband as he walks by. I am not offended. I am invisible. No one can see me so I cannot be harmed by the things that come out of the darkness.

Light bounces off something and there is a man in front of us holding a razor blade to my face. Where did he come from? I don't move. I don't breathe. My husband's arm is clamped in mine. He has moved his feet apart in a fighting stance.

"Guy, dey walka", my husband says.

"Egbon, just give me the money or I go use this blade for your wife".

"Guy, dey walka".

"Wo, you dey try me. I go spoil this your fine wife face o!"

I know what I must do. I take a deep breath, then everything happens quickly. I let go of my husband's arm, and go for the blade with my other hand. The vagrant moves to punch me, but my husband grabs his fist and hits him in the throat. The blade presses into my hand, and I squeeze. It cuts deep, and I squeeze some more. I am not afraid of getting cut. I cut myself all the time but usually with my little kitchen knives. The large ones leave marks I don't like to explain. There are no razor blades at home. The vagrant looks at my face as blood seeps through our joined hands. I smile. He is afraid. My husband clears his feet from under him in a sweeping move, and my smile becomes smug. I let go of the pleasure of the blade and its owner's hand so I am not pulled down with him. The smell of the blood dripping from my hand pleases me.

"Babe, you're bleeding. Let's go back home".

I nod. Who needs suya?






Wednesday, October 2, 2013

It's been a while

Holla!

Happy 53rd Independence Day, Nigerians!

What do we have to be happy about? Life and Hope. At all, at all, na winch!

Anyway, this is what I've been up to:


2013 Reading Challenge

2013 Reading Challenge
Timendu has
read 225 books toward her goal of 300 books.
hide


This is what I'm reading now:



Timendu's bookshelf: currently-reading

Surprised by Joy
0 of 5 stars
tagged:
currently-reading
Anna Karenina
0 of 5 stars
tagged:
currently-reading
Amplified Bible
0 of 5 stars
tagged:
currently-reading
The Message Remix
5 of 5 stars
tagged:
currently-reading
On Black Sisters Street: A Novel
0 of 5 stars
tagged:
currently-reading


goodreads.com


And this is my current playlist:
Once More With Feeling
  • Dog days are over - Florence and The Machine
  • When it gets down to it - Fred Hammond
  • What the water gave me - Florence and The Machine
  • Ring a bell - Late Night Alumni
  • Hope is rising - Downhere
  • The sun is shining - Third Day
  • Breathe slow - Alesha Dixon
  •  Love song - Third Day
  • Supermassive black hole - Muse
  • Loved on me - Fred Hammond
  • Till it happens to you - Corrine Bailey Rae
  • Automatic - Tokio Hotel
  • Atmosphere (remix) - DC Talk
  • Reformation - GS Megaphone
  • Sing, sing, sing - Chris Tomlin
  • A Thousand Years - Christina Perri
  • Stronger - Mary J. Blige
  • In my place - Coldplay
  • Don't wait - Kaskade feat. Haley
  • Letters from the sky - Civil Twilight
  • Poison and Wine - The Civil Wars
  • We are hungry/I will not be silent - Jesus Culture
I've also been writing but I won't be sharing it with you yet. Let's just say it's some kind of weird, not totally made up Ijaw mythology. So if you've got stories of any unusual weird occurrences by the waterside, drop me a line.

Thanks.

Oh, and Papa Goo's movie TABLOID for EbonyLife TV (Channel 165 on DSTV) will be airing on the 6th of October. That's in 4 days. Make sure you watch it!

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Memoirs of A Workshop

Howdy!

Due to popular demand, and mostly so I can hold on to that Workshop feeling a little longer. I'll be putting up posts about our exercises.

Today is non fiction day.

The facilitator for non fiction was Aslak Sire Myhre, whose Wikipedia page does not do him justice.
(Picture shall be put up as soon as internet allows)

This tall, blonde Norwegian is a politician (not the rich kind) and an author who gave us a couple of exercises in writing non fiction, and made us think of our place in the global narrative as African Writers.

Who gets to tell our stories? Some well meaning European with no understanding of our culture or situation, or us?

He made us think.

I'm still thinking.

I get paid for writing non fiction, but wouldn't it be something to write about the lives of Ijaw people - their history, their culture, their struggles? Wouldn't it be something to write about the lives of militants? Cos let's be honest - we talk a lot of smack, especially on the internet, but you don't know what their lives are like. I'm Ijaw, and I know I don't know.

Anyway....

On Aslak's first day, he asked us to write a memoir piece about ourselves, telling a story that would showcase something larger than us. This is what I came up with:

It was going to be the last time I would go to campus to read at night. The next day I would be writing my last exam as a student of the University of Benin, and all things being equal, would not have to go to class anymore.
I went out to read by myself, then joined my study group for last minute discussions till about 2am.
When I looked around, none of my off-campus neighbours were in the hall. The Social Science Faculty had been the last to put up an exam timetable, and consequently, its students were the last to finish exams, and to leave campus. My classmates were planning on staying to read some more but I needed to sleep. I needed to leave, but there was no one to walk me home. My on again, off again boyfriend was around somewhere, but at the moment, we were off again, and he wasn't talking to me. I was on my own. So I decided to walk home by myself. I walked out of the hall, out of the building we called Basement, because it had a basement, walked past the hostel for medical students, and past the campus gate to my off campus neighbourhood of Osasogie. The security men stationed at the campus gates were not paid to concern themselves with what happened outside their stations so as I walked past them I started praying.
"Oh God please don't let anything happen to me", I whispered in the darkness, and it was very dark. There was no light, no electricity, and it was oh so quiet.
"Oh Father, I will never do anything so stupid again", I mumbled, as I twitched at every imagined sound I heard in the dark, and remembered the girl who had been kidnapped just a few paces from where I walked. She had returned a week later, 'walking funny' as a friend had put it. I remembered my friend Sammy who had been apprehended by robbers and then beaten up for having a cheap Nokia phone. I remembered the girl whose arm had been cut off by a cutlass wielding thief because she started speaking in tongues when she was attacked.
"Father, please let me get home safely. Let them not see me. Let it not be said anything happened to me the night before my last paper. Please don't let me suffer for my foolishness".



The End

What do y'all think? If you're up to it, you can email me (deocentric@gmail.com) a short piece (200 - 400 words) telling a story that tells a bigger story.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Where were we?

Hey hey hey!

I dropped off the map. I know. I wanted to try out writing, rather than just blogging about writing, and as usual, found the process frustrating and depressing. Alas, maybe I am not supposed to be a writer.
Sigh.
But wait...The Farafina Trust Creative Writing Workshop called for entries. I sent in mine. What would it hurt? And I was invited for the workshop.

Yay!

I'm not so bad. Lazy, and lacking discipline and self control (damn romance novels. And chocolate. And cake), but not a bad writer.

Whoooopeeee!

Workshop took 10 days. A couple of my fellow participants - Uche and Sifa - blogged about Day 1, and yes, it was life changing stuff.
Can you see me? Hint: Pink shawl
So now what?

Now to make my wonderful teachers proud. Speaking of teachers, a very big THANK YOU to Chimamanda Adichie, Eghosa Imasuen, Binyanvanga Wainaina, and Aslak Sira Mhyre for investing their time and knowledge in me, and all of us (The Girls and Boys Club of Chimamanda).

I'm off now to make it work.

PS. A big Thank You also to Papa Goo and The Goo for giving Mummy some time off. Big Hug!

Thursday, March 14, 2013

A Day in The Life: Mother, Writer, Music Lover

This morning, The Goo dallied at breakfast. It was weird.

I'm not saying she doesn't savour her meals. She does.

I think.

It's just that this morning she had been in Diva! Mode flinging herself on the floor and repeatedly throwing my phone so when she smiled at her Peanut Butter and Jam (nope, not Jelly) sandwich and said, "Triangle"...I didn't know what to expect.

I certainly didn't expect her to take her time to nibble and chew with contemplative pleasure. I could have taken a picture but she doesn't like paparazzi and I didn't want her to toss my phone. She went late to school, holding a sandwich in her hand. She was happy. I was relieved.

Right now, I'm listening to Maria Mena's single Just Hold Me. I love it. Favourite line - If I like rejection, I'll audition. I'm having a Coke from The Can. I'm not supposed to, but I was out in the sun, and this is how I choose to celebrate surviving it. Tastes good. I may have another.

In about two hours, I'll be out in the sun again to go pay for a 6 month online writing course. I hate being blocked, and for someone who has always had fear as a bed fellow, I've decided I would rather write than be afraid of writing utter crap.

What's the antidote for fear? Information. Knowledge is Power. I used to be able to say that in Latin (thanks to Catholic Boarding School). Anyway, writing course to be paid for today. I made a deal with Cho (my BFF) that I would start writing short stories come April 1st.

Am I the only one who sees the irony in that?

Maria Mena is on repeat. I really like this song.




Tuesday, March 12, 2013

The Road To Hell...

...is paved with Good Intentions.

That about sums up my efforts with Good Intentions. I don't think I have ever had writer's block. Technically, I can't even say I believe in it. I know when I have failed to write it's often because I'm too tired, too lazy or too out of sorts to write. With Good Intentions, it's possible that it's a combination of all three, or just one out of three, or maybe I'm just blocked.

The thing is the more I think about the story I want to write, the less I want to write it. It's just not enough 'story' to justify the work required. Or maybe I'm being lazy.

I tend to internalize a lot of things, and my characters are doing that as well, and stories are about externalizations of conflict not gut burning emotions. The obvious solution would be to have them act out because of their emotions but anything I think up feels so contrived. Sigh.

I'm such a basket case.

Papa Goo thinks I should dump them and do the short story thing. Believe me, I am sorely tempted. Not writing is making me feel guilty which makes me feel out of sorts which impinges (Word of The Day) on my ability to write.

A vicious cycle.

...Sigh. That's my Good Intentions update.

How's your day going?


Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Good Intentions and a Dash of Something Old

Hello, all you wonderful people!

It's been a while. How have you been? Good? Great!

I have been tweaking things with Good Intentions and Major Changes are underway but I won't be telling you what said changes are 'cos I don't wanna jinx anything. You understand, right? Sweet!

Anyway, since my heroine is a make up artist, I took it upon myself to trouble my make up artist friends and grill them about the whys and hows of their business. Expect interviews soon. Till then how about something from Gypsy Black's archive. This was my first Cover Story (in 2008, I think); an interview with the very kind, very wonderful Banke Meshida Lawal. Enjoy!

ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE

I met Mrs. Banke Meshida Lawal on the day before St. Valentine’s Day at her BM Pro Studio in Ikoyi. I was a little late and very nervous, but she just smiled sweetly and said, “I’m Banke”.



Banke Meshida Lawal is the soft-spoken, very endearing owner and founder of BM Pro Studio and cosmetics range. After she had consulted with a client for a few minutes, we settled into her office for the interview.

BM: I’m Banke Meshida Lawal. My maiden name is Meshida, and my married name is Lawal. I’m married to Lanre Lawal (she adds with a smile); we got married one year ago on February 10th.

GYPSY: Do you have any kids?
BM: No. (GYPSY: Why?) It’s not yet time for kids.

GYPSY: What’s your romantic life like?
BM: Because I’m married to my best friend, every day is a fantastic day in our marriage and it’s been fun, you know, being with someone and being married to them.

GYPSY: Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Any plans?
BM: Valentine just crept up on me. In fact, I just realized today that it is valentine’s tomorrow, but I really don’t have any plans for tomorrow.

GYPSY: Maybe your husband does?
BM: I hope so (she laughs softly), I hope so.

GYPSY: You are THE make-up artist. How did you get here?
BM: I suppose I am where I am today because it’s God’s plan for my life, but apart from that, a lot of hard work, a lot of dreaming and going to live my dreams and being focused on what I’m doing.

GYPSY: You have a first degree?
BM: In English, from the University of Lagos.

GYPSY: So how did you move from English to this?
BM: I think because English afforded me a lot of time to do what I wanted (to do) with myself while at the University. It was a good course; I enjoyed it. I didn’t see it as a problem. I was doing a degree I enjoyed, and I also had time for extra-curricular activities. Also, I’ve always loved to draw and paint and what I do now is an extension of art, and I started doing makeovers while at the University and it just followed. I just fell into this profession.

GYPSY: When did you start branding yourself as Banke Meshida – Make-up Artist?
BM: I think even while at school…when I was in UNILAG, I used to do a lot of henna tattoos on myself, I’d do my hair in funky, outrageous styles, so I think that helped in branding me because then a lot of people knew that there was this girl who used to do her hair funny and dress funny and have tattoos all over her body. I think the branding started then. And I had a lot of acquaintances, so…I wouldn’t say I was a social person, I just, you know, had a lot of people that I knew and…acquaintances so to speak and you know, for a brand to kick off, you need to be out there and I guess subconsciously, without making an effort, I was always out there.
And like I said, English…I wouldn’t say it was a simple course (she giggles a little, almost apologetically), but it gave me a lot of time to do other things.

GYPSY: Did you meet your husband in school?
BM: Yes I did.

GYPSY: How did you meet him?
BM: I met him one really hot, sunny day in the car park, and he was with a friend. We have a mutual friend who introduced him to me and eh, I thought, ‘Wow, this guy looks fit!’ (GYPSY: Okay!) You know (laughing bashfully), and I’ve always been the sort of person that if I like someone there’s no need beating about the bush and being…not coy but, it was I liked him and that was that. Of course, the feminine side of me had to find out who he was and if he wasn’t attached and all of that. So it was fun while we were courting, and basically I met him through a friend.

GYPSY: Your husband is a Muslim (and you are a Christian). Is that a problem now that you’re married?
BM: No, it’s not. I suppose because in our relationship it’s always been about the two of us. I don’t know when our kids come if it will still be about the two of us, but we’ve just been able to balance our lives. In a relationship, it’s about respect and trying to understand the other person; what makes them tick, what they are all about. It’s a learning process really, and once you know you don’t want to hurt the other person, it will work itself out.

GYPSY: When did you open this studio?
BM: This particular studio, I opened in 2006. Yeah, but previously I was at Rumens Road, Ikoyi. I opened that studio in 2003.

GYSPY: What's your clientele like?
BM: People from all walks of life, both on the Nigerian and the international scene. Anyone really that has a knack for great make-up.

GYPSY: You have a make-up range now?
BM: Yes, I have my own make-up line; it’s called BM Pro. It’s a colour cosmetics line, in that we cater for Black skin, Asian skin, but most importantly, the Nigerian weather. It dictates what we have manufactured. Over the years, I’ve found out that most known brands didn’t cater for the Nigerian weather because it’s a humid and dry weather that we have here. Most products cater for dry and cold (weather) while a lot of them don’t even understand the extent of the humidity we have here. That’s why there are some things I wouldn’t do as a make-up artist, other people might do it but I don’t and I know why.

GYPSY: Things like what?
BM: Using oil-based foundation. If you’re abroad where it’s dry and cold that’s fantastic but if you’re here, I don’t think that you do because you put it on in a few minutes you need to touch it up.

GYPSY: Is your product range just cosmetics?
BM: There’s a lot of skin care in there. There’s the serum; the anti-shine serum, the cleansers, foundation primers.

GYPSY: Do you want to expand it?
BM: If the course of my work dictates that we should do more skin care then we most likely will. I don’t rule anything out. It’s what will give our customers the utmost satisfaction that dictates what we do.

GYPSY: When you started did you expect it to be this big?
BM: Em, no, I didn’t. I was just doing what I enjoyed doing. Over the years, I would look up some products, crush it, mix it, if it works…if it works for me, then it was fine. But, technology and the fashion world keep changing, and because I really am interested in those things, you know, I go along with them. I go along with the changes and try to bring them back home. Bring it to Nigeria and let people know what’s in and what’s out. I just try to help people achieve great results with their make-up.

GYPSY: Do you think what you do is important?
BM: It is so important. I can’t emphasize the importance of a well made-up face, because it does a lot for your confidence and confidence is key. One of my mantras is ‘Beauty is in-built but an attractive face is worked on.’ You can make your face look really attractive and you can use it to achieve perfection with your face.
In every day experiences, confidence plays such an important role in everything you do and if you’re not confident you’re not going to be able to achieve. It’s so important I can’t overemphasize it.

GYPSY: When you hear the word ‘competition’, what comes to mind?
BM: What comes to mind is, ‘Okay, so this is new’.
I see now that there are a lot of make-up artists which is great, because I...we can’t cater to…what’s the population of Nigeria now? And there’s just 6 or 7 of us in my team. We can’t do everybody. We will do the people that we can.
Each time I see make-up artists, it impresses me because I can see that there are a lot of people out there who realize it’s not only white collar jobs that can earn you an income. It can be anything, it’s possible for you to do anything as long as you’re focused and what you’re offering is very good, you will eke out a living and a very good one at that.
For me, competition is out there. It doesn’t dictate what I do. What I do I do because I’ve thought about it, and I want to do it. Then also, maybe it makes me raise my stakes. It helps me to go one step further. In this town, you have people, everywhere really, once you do something, everyone rushes in to do the same. I want to be one step ahead of everything.

GYPSY: At the end of the day, what do you want to be remembered for?
BM: Changing the face of make-up. BM Pro is the first Nigerian make-up brand. I’m proud of that. A lot of make-up artists use BM Pro. I’m so happy with that. When I go for an occasion and I see the make-up is BM Pro colours, that makes me very proud.

I would want to be remembered as someone who changed the face of make-up products in Nigeria, and helped Nigeria grow in that field.





Tuesday, February 12, 2013

...where were we?

Hey everyone!

Sick leave over. Ended it with The Hobbit and Cho and a lot of chocolate. Life is good. God is faithful.

Apparently, YED has not been published since they went on their Christmas break, so I am not behind. Yay! I am right on top of it. Yay! So back to work.

I've written only 800 words of Good Intentions. Out of 100,000. My procrastination is powered by fear, but I'm gonna have to do it afraid, so I'm going to log in some words today. I'll keep you posted. Here's my Good Intentions playlist, made up of songs that remind me of my plot and characters. I don't know if I can actually write with it, but we'll see.

Take you back - Jeremy Camp
Superhuman - Chris Brown and Keri Hilson
Nothing without You - Bebo Norman
Fighting Temptation - Dietrick Haddon
Hope for Every Fallen Man - Relient K
You Decide - Brandon Heath
Grey - BarlowGirl
Talk to me - Jill Scott
In Better Hands - Natalie Grant
Hands up - 2PM
Walk by Faith - Jeremy Camp
Body and Soul - Billie Holiday
The Fight Song - Sanctus Real

Does the playlist give you an idea of what Good Intentions is about?


Sunday, January 27, 2013

The 200 Book Reading Challenge


2013 Reading Challenge

2013 Reading Challenge
Timendu has
read 37 books toward her goal of 200 books.
hide



Yes, I changed my goal again. Let's face it, if I'm going to be reading all those romance novels (and I will), then the tally is going to go up rather quickly. Romance novels are definitely smack dab in the middle of my comfort zone, and since I'm trying not to over indulge with chocolate, cake, or chocolate cake, then well...hello Nora!

Also, this past week I was kinda sorta under the weather - nauseous, poor appetite, insomnia, headaches - bring on the comforting. That's not to say, I won't try to expand my horizon and read things I would normally not read. However, I won't lie...I really like my comfort zone.

In other news, work has resumed. I've started on the wrong foot and am behind schedule, but that should be sorted out by tomorrow. I've decided to put my personal feelings aside, and be a disciplined professional. Yup. A Disciplined Professional.

I'm not entirely happy with my prep work for Good Intentions, but I have to start. Writing is rewriting, I've been told, so I suppose I should just jump to it.

Wish me luck. I'm actually a little nervous.

PS. I write the weekly column Rita's Road for Poise Finishing School's insert in Business Day newspaper (every Tuesday). If you could check it out, and let me know what you think, I would really appreciate it. Muchos Gracias, and have a great week.


Monday, January 21, 2013

Whistle You Work

Hey y'all

Did you have a good weekend?

Anyway, I'm just swinging by to let you know that I'm changing Mary's height and occupation. Yes, she's going to be shorter, and she's going to be a make up artist.

In other news, one freelance contract is signed so now I have deadlines.

Another contract will be signed soon. Most likely next week, which will mean more deadlines.

...let the juggling act begin.

Friday, January 18, 2013

So whatchu been up to?

Holla!

I'm pleased to announce that I know what direction I'm going with Good intentions. I have a very rough outline. I have a beginning, a middle and an end. I have a theme and some character sketches, so YAY!

I'll start writing next week. The plan is a chapter a day. It's not going to be a lengthy book. 1,000 words per chapter is the plan. I'll keep you posted, and if there's anything I can share with you about the process I will.

In other news, I've decided to be realistic about my reading challenge. It was originally to read 300 books this year, and thanks to Goodreads' handy tally thingy, I was informed anytime I breezed by how far behind I was. The pressure got to me, and I abandoned my to read list of Neil Gaiman, Nelson Demille, Suzzanne Collins, Jodi Picoult and so forth for the easy to consume pleasure of Nora Roberts.

One fine evening, I clicked on the view books link to check out my reading exploits for the year, and discovered to my dismay that I had read 8 Nora Roberts and 3 other books. Well, that wasn't the plan. The plan was to read more, yes, but also to read outside my comfort zone. To discover new favourites, and learn new things. 8 Nora Roberts was not the way to go about it. So now, the plan has changed to something more realistic, and less stressful - The 100 Book Reading Challenge. It has nice ring to it, no?


2013 Reading Challenge

2013 Reading Challenge
Timendu has
read 13 books toward her goal of 100 books.
hide



Anyway, I made the changes and now I'm 9 books ahead of schedule. Oh yeah! I am awesome.

What am I reading now?

Francine Prose's Reading Like a Writer.
J.R. Ward's The Black Dagger Brotherhood: An Insider's Guide
Max Lucado's Cure for the Common Life: Living in Your Sweet Spot
Lola Shoneyin's The Secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives
Nicole William's Earn What You're Worth

And my easy, breezy #fridayreads is (drumroll, please) - Nora Robert's Born in Ice.

...don't judge me.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

So...

Let's start with the bad news. I think I've put on weight. I don't want to talk about it. I'll just make myself feel better by having a couple of jammy dodgers, and a Coke.

In other news, SuperGoo is still on vacation. I hear the theme songs of all her Disney Jr. and Nick Jr. shows in my sleep. When we do turn off the TV, she scribbles then tries to stab me with her crayons.

Sigh.

Oh, she naps for all of two hours, and doesn't fall asleep till late.

And, she thinks I double as a Jungle Gym.

Ain't motherhood great?

As far as my reading challenge goes, I've gone through five books, but according to goodreads.com - At my current pace, I am one book behind. Thanks a lot. Nothing I love more than pressure.

Maybe childbirth.

Anyway, I've decided to cheat with romance novels. They're nice, short, and don't require me to be fully awake, or lucid. No disrespect. It's a genre I have enjoyed for many, many, many years.

In writing news, all I've done is respond to interview questions (borrowed from J.R. Ward's The Black Dagger Brotherhood: An Insider's Guide) for my heroine/protagonist for Good Intentions. I should actually be banging out an outline.

On the income side of things, I'm still talking contracts for possible freelance jobs, and exchanged a couple of emails with an illustrator for a non-fiction book I'm editing. I'm waiting for everyone, including myself, to get back to me.

How about I add you to the list ? Check out my heroine/protagonist's response sheet below, and let me know what you think. Feel free to send interview questions of your own.

MARY

Age: 26

Marital Status: Married. 2 months.

Height: 5'9

Weight: 60kg

Hair Colour: Black. Shoulder length when relaxed.

Eye Colour: Light Brown.

Identifying Physical Marks: Gap teeth with overbite. Multiple birthmarks scattered all over her back.

Occupation: Model/Housewife

Dimensions: 34 - 28 - 32

Description: Mary was beautiful, tall and somewhat striking, for such a shy person. You could almost feel her willing herself to be invisible. Maybe that's why she was such a great runway model, she was the perfect clotheshorse. Designers loved her. Skinny, with just enough curves to satisfy the local clientele, but not so much as to throw off a design. She was damn near perfect. If only she wasn't scared of cameras.

Married to: Tochukwu Clement Okoro.

Last Movie Watched: Love, Actually

Last Book Read: Summerhouse by Jude Devereux

Favourite TV Show: The Late Show with David Letterman

Last TV Show watched: Desperate Housewives

Last game played: Scrabble (with the computer as an opponent)

Greatest Fear: Divorce by Adultery

Greatest Love: God

Favourite Quote: My beloved is mine, and I am his.

Preferred Sleepwear: T-Shirt and Shorts

Watch: Kate Spade (a gift from Tochukwu)

Car: I don't drive

What time is it while you're filling this out?: 2 p.m.

Where are you?: In the parlour

What are you wearing?: T-Shirt and Shorts

What's in your closet?: Skinny jeans, a couple of black pants, lots and lots of T-Shirts in different colours, One black blazer, and one army green jacket. a couple of sundresses, a couple of leggings - one purple, one pink (got them at a show, never worn), a couple of dress shirts, one ankara dress from Jewel by Lisa (I saw it and couldn't resist), ballet flats in different colours, one pair of black Mary Janes, One brown Fossil handbag, jewellery box with one gold set from my mum, a lot of studs, and a lot of costume jewellery necklaces. A lot of skin care creams. A fully stocked, barely touched make up bag.

What was the last thing you ate?: Can't remember.

Describe your last dream: I can't remember. I did dream. It wasn't pleasant, but I can't remember a thing about it.

Coke or Pepsi?: Coke.

Audrey Hepburn or Marilyn Monroe?: Can I say both? One is strong and classy, the other's feminine and sexy. I love them both.

Omotola or Genevieve?: I love Genevieve, but Omo-sexy is so sexy.

Sports or Video Games?: Video Games, although I love to swim.

What do you like most about Tochukwu?: He’s so attentive. He’s always there when I need him.

First words spoken to him: “I’m not bored. I’m tired, and I want to go home”.

His response was: “I want to go home too! Wow! We have something in common”.

Last gift given to him: Had a cake delivered to his office on his birthday.

Most romantic thing he’s ever done for you: Proposed. He somehow managed to get a private dinner set up in one of my favourite restaurants on the island. It was on the 5th anniversary of our relationship, and I thought he just wanted to make it special. The mood was perfect. There were candles and everything. There was even some jazz playing, I think. When he went down on one knee, just before dessert, I swear, I almost threw up.

Most romantic thing you’ve done for him: Surprised him with some designer cufflinks he had mentioned wanting on Valentine’s Day.

Anything you’d change about him: No. I think he’s amazing just the way he is.

Best Friend: Naomi. We’ve been BFFs since secondary school. She’s like a sister to me.

Last time you cried:  No comment.

Last time you laughed: No comment.









Sunday, January 6, 2013

Happy New Year!

Hey! Hey! Hey! It's 2013.

Welcome to the New Year.

I didn't put up a post earlier because I was not so compelled, and also because I was recovering from crossing over. Normally, it takes me a day of sleeping it off, but with a toddler who we shall call SuperGoo, well, let's just say I'm still sleepy.

Anyway, it's the New Year. And as a good citizen of Earth, I should have plans and goals. Well, gosh darn it, I do!

This is the year of my 300 Book Reading Challenge. Ridiculous, I know, but if it were feasible like a 52 Book Reading Challenge, then I wouldn't be interested. I'm one of those 'dream the impossible dream' people. A recipe for heartache, I tell you, but ooh what a rush. So far, I have finished one book - Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. I enjoyed it. It was a delightful romp with angels, demons, switched babies, and what I consider, a very cheeky premise.

I'm in the middle of Francine Prose's How to Read Like A Writer, and have just read the first seven chapters of The Secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives by Lola Shoneyin for The (Unnamed) Book Club. Expect an update on that soon.

Writing goals? Well, The Plan was to improve my craft while writing six short stories from January to June, and then write Good Intentions from July to December. But, then, I read Good Omens which made me dream up a totally unrelated idea that haunts me. So, the six short stories have been given the bump for Good Intentions, then I will write The Other Story from July to December. I hear you! Foolhardy. Sigh. I'm an all or nothing sort of girl.

Oh Lord, let it not be nothing.

On the Writing for Hire front, things are still kinda up in the air, but I would very much like to work only for the first six months of the year, then use the remaining months to focus on Writing for Myself. At least, that was the plan when I was doing the Six Short Stories and A Novel thing. Now...errr...

On the Weight Loss Goal, I would like to lose 10kg but 5kg would not be bad. I would like to go down two dress sizes, but one would be satisfactory. What's the plan? Well, I thought I would Zumba, Skip, Swim and do some Yoga. You know, slow and steady type of thing. However, Papa Goo got me the Insanity Workout DVD. Yay!

No. Not really.

Sigh. So we'll see.

Ah, well, Happy New Year!

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Blast from The Past Thursday: The Little Hamster

Hey you!

How are you enjoying this season to be jolly?

The Goo attended her first school Christmas party today, and met Father Christmas. I was informed by her teachers that she cried and tried to escape the clutches of the red suited, white bearded stranger who tried to foist a dollhouse on her.

Yup. She's her mother's daughter.

Anyway, Blast from The Past Thursday ended an hour ago, but I'm up so you get to read something I wrote in 2006 (I think). I called it The Little Hamster, and I wrote it when I was having angst filled debates with myself over quitting my job in stockbroking.

Enjoy!

THE LITTLE HAMSTER

One day, the little hamster stepped off his wheel.

Sure, there were food pellets and water jugs that were refilled every day, but he didn’t want to live in a cage anymore.

This made the older hamsters angry. They asked the little hamster if he had eaten a bad pellet or something. They told him the cage was a safe place and that the wheel of purpose was every hamster’s destiny.
He said the wheel of purpose felt like a ball and chain and that the cage was more prison than safe house.

They asked him scornfully, “what will you do now?”

He answered, “I’ll burrow”.

So he stepped off the wheel and it slowed down and stopped, but the world kept spinning and the sun still shined. He broke the lock with an old milk tooth that had fallen off and stepped out of his cage/ safe house/ prison. When he stepped out of his cage and onto the ground, he realized, “I don’t know how to burrow”. Then he thought, ‘how hard can it be? I’m a hamster and that’s what hamsters are supposed to do! It will be as easy as running the wheel of drudgery’. So he put his nose to the ground, then his paws, then dug, wriggling his little hamster body into the ground.

There was something scary, but soothing about the soft, dark earth. It was as comforting as coming home but not knowing if he would survive this was freaking him out. It occurred to him that he could turn around and go back to the security of the cage with its food pellets and daily water refills. Sure, the other hamsters would never let him hear the end of it, but wasn’t life more important than fearing what other hamsters would say? But wasn’t life more important than fear? So he decided right there to stop worrying and keep burrowing.

The other hamsters never saw him again. Once in a while, word reached them that the little hamster had found an underground cave, and had met a little hamster girl. They heard rumours of his little hamster family, of his five little hamsters, and they still kept muttering, “He must have eaten some bad pellets.”

THE END

(PS. Do hamsters burrow?)



Tuesday, December 11, 2012

I'm a Writer: Being Passive Aggressive

Wow!

It's been another two weeks.

I really don't know what to say. Sorry seems to be the hardest word (sing it Elton!)

Anyway, contrary to the title of this post (the first part), I have not been writing. Not really. I should have written 8 articles and cleared my schedule till the end of the year, but I've written 2.

Why? See the second part of the title.

I didn't know I was passive aggressive till I got married. On a side note, you never know how angry and how often you can get angry till you get married. To all my single ladies out there, practice deep breathing and counting to ten before you meet The One. It will come in handy.

Anyway, what does being passive aggressive have to do with life as a writer? Well, when you write for clients who pay you per article, you find out rather quickly that most people are not blessed with your kind of genius. As a matter of fact, they tend to land at the other end of the intelligence meter.

...(excuse me while I count to ten)...so let's say I'm supposed to write 8 articles, and my client is supposed to pay me for 5 articles already written, and does not do so, nor see it fit to inform me that said money will not be paid in at agreed upon time, well then, that just gets my goat.

But I am nothing, if not professional, so what do I do - I delay said client's work till they are gagging for it, and then instead of 8, I send in 1 just before they are to go to press. I don't know why but it warms the cockles of me heart to see them scramble.

Unfortunately, I am also a creature of habit, and after a while, I am unable to bring myself to deliver said client's work in time. Ever again. This pains me because I keep hearing Neil Gaiman's voice in my head saying, "Send in your work on time. Make sure it's good work. Make sure you're a pleasure to work with", or something along those lines. It's just that between myself and said client there is an almost septic yet cordial culture of disrespect.

It's not good for me, and I don't know if I should continue. The work is fairly challenging. The money is handy, but I pick up bad habits very easily, and they have turned out to be such evil communication.

Whatever shall I do?

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Blast from The Past Thursday: Broken Nanowrimo Dreams

Hello you.

Yes. I've been away. I've been...errr...busy. That's right.

Busy.

No, there is no other blog. I haven't even put up a Facebook note. Honest.

:)

Anyway, enough crazy talk. Here's my unfinished nanowrimo piece of last year. Please let me know what you think. I stopped writing it because the world building, especially creating the magic system, was driving me crazy. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

It was getting dark. That was the thought that crossed Kandara’s mind as she watched her father walk down the beach towards the ocean with a white cock in his left hand and a small knife in his right. It was high tide and the waves roared and crashed unmercifully against the sands before they slipped back. The cock wailed in fear and anger, but the waves paid it no mind and neither did her father.

She walked a little distance behind him, with her twin sister, Kajol, by her side. They both carried little clay pots covered with leaves, and had to walk carefully on the sands to make sure the contents did not fall out. A flash of lightening brightened the sky, followed by a clap of thunder. Kandara glanced at her sister. Kajol didn’t even flinch.

She is not afraid, thought her father, as he took purposeful steps forward. He didn’t look back, but he knew she was still behind him. He could sense her spirit. She has always had a strong presence, he thought, I have to teach her to temper it or she will overwhelm the villagers. He reached the shore line, and turned his thoughts to the business at hand.

There was a slight breeze and his white wrapper billowed around his ankles. As he waded into the water, his voice boomed with an incantation for their deity. “Opubeni! Dibaere! Great mother and sustainer of life!”

The girls stepped forward with their arms outstretched, their gifts in front of them. Her father continued, “this day, we humbly come before you,” he had waded deeper into the water, bracing himself against the onslaught of the waves. The beach sand wasn’t much help but as the chief priest to the Sea goddess, he had been doing this since he had come of age. Time may have sapped his strength but it had also gifted him with experience. The water whipped and frothed around his thighs now as he continued, “trusting in your mercy, we seek your wisdom.”  His daughters reached the shore line and waited.

“Reveal your will to us. Direct our thoughts.
Open our eyes to behold your ways
That we may speak your truth to your people.” his voice boomed, over the waves “that we may direct their path according to your desire”.

The girls placed the pots in the water simultaneously and immediately the waves softened and quietened, and took the pots in.

The sky darkened quickly, and suddenly. Then a flash of lightening, a clap of thunder and a loud wail from the cock as their father ran the knife cleanly across its neck. Its legs struggled against its binds and its wings whipped about frantically but it was dead.

Another flash of lightening, another clap of thunder, and the cock was flung into the ocean. It hit the water and Kandara imagined she heard a splash but that would have been impossible. The waves had gotten louder and higher, but would break just before they reached the shore so the trio of worshippers were not in much danger. At least not from the waves, the sands gave way beneath their feet and they had to finish their business quickly or the sands would offer them to the ocean.

“Opubeni! Dibaere! Great mother and sustainer of life!” boomed the chief priest again - and then he dove into the ocean.

Kandara hated this part. They would have to wait for him to return. The only danger was that his return was not his decision. If the Sea Godess was pleased with the offering, then she would send back the Chief Priest with a message for the villagers.

If the Sea Goddess was not pleased with the offering, their father would not return.

********************************************************

A few miles from the Great Ocean, just past a small but rich rainforest was their village. It was named Periama by her founders because they believed that the land that they built their homes on was a sacred gift from the Sea Goddess, Opubeni. Local folklore said that land where they had their homes, farms, village square and shrine was once all under the sea. Kabowei, the first man birthed by Eneyi, the Mother of all Gods, had placed him in the care of Opubeni, her daughter because there was unrest in the land of the Gods. Upon receiving Kabowei, Opubeni realised that he could not survive in her watery world and so to ensure his survival, she retreated just a little and gave up a small body of land. This, along with the regular bounty of sea food was enough to ensure his survival, and Eneyi, seeing that he was in good hands, sent down Ebiere, the first woman to be his wife.

As time went by, the man and woman grew to be a family then a tribe and then a village. Opubeni, gave up more and more land, and Kabowei’s ancestors showed their gratitude with gifts, worship and devotion. They declared her to be their saviour and deity, deciding that they would have no king, for the leadership of Opubeni was more than enough. A pair of twin boys were chosen to be her priests and the village agreed that their descendants would always be priests of Opubeni. These priests would offer the gifts and prayers of the village to the Sea Goddess, and would receive her counsel and judgement on their behalf.

These priests served Opubeni and the people of Periama well for they were faithful worshippers of the Sea Goddess and the people prospered because of them. However, with time and with every new generation, devotion to Periama waned and the priests paid the price for this cooling of the villagers’ faith. That was why there was fear in the village air tonight. For the tide had been rising, but not receding as far back as it used to, and many feared Opubeni had tired of them, and wanted her land back.

There were whispered rumours of an abomination among the people. An abomination that would anger even the kind and merciful Eneyi, if she still bothered to visit with men, but none of the rumours could tell for sure what it was.

“I have heard”, a woman whispered to her husband in their hut, “that someone may be worshipping an evil spirit.”

“What evil spirit?” her husband asked, his voice tired.

“I don’t know!” was her hasty reply, “you know, I don’t know of these things, but you -”

“Me what?”

“You spend your days in the forest -”

“Hunting game.”

“Are you saying there are no evil spirits in that forest?”

“I have not seen or heard of such things.”

“But Peretin, the palm wine tapper’s wife said her husband had heard the sounds of strange beings dancing in the forest.”

“Strange beings?” he laughed, “and how do you know that these strange beings were not the fruit of tasting too much palm wine?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but he stops her short with a raised palm, “Feed me, please. Then you can regale me with the tapper’s palm wine induced tales.”

She snorted, but got up and went in to prepare his meal. He muttered to himself, “Evil spirit? Opubeni, have mercy.”

********************************************************
Opubeni would claim him as an offering for reparation of the village’s offence. Kandara and Kajol would be the new Chief Priests, and they would have thirty days to appease the goddess before she took back her land and allowed the sea to submerge the village.

Kandara whimpered as her eyes searching for her father in the raging waters. “Opubeni, have mercy“, she prayed.

“You are afraid.” Kajol said, her eyes also locked on the waves.

“You are not!”

“No.”

“Why?”

“There is nothing to fear.”

“What?” her eyes wide in disbelief as he she turned to look at her twin. “Father may not return!”

“That is a possibility. Especially if you consider the warning signs.”

“You would be pleased with Father’s death?”

“My pleasure or displeasure is of no relevance here. Opubeni will do as she wills”, she replied coolly, glancing at her sister, “it would serve you well to remember that.”

“But Opubeni is kind. Opubeni is merciful.” flung Kandara, desperation creeping into her voice.

“Opubeni is a goddess. And Father is her Priest, as are we. We live to serve her. We are simply her instruments.”

“Shut up.”

Kajol laughed, short and mean. “Very well. It doesn’t change the truth.”

“Truth?”

“Stop shouting. We aren’t even supposed to be speaking.”

“Truth?” a whisper now, “Do you want Father to die?”

“Resting in Opubeni’s arms is the highest honour.”

“Sometimes I hate you.”

Another laugh. “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t want Father to die.”

“It doesn’t matter what we want.”

“Do you want Father to die?”

Sigh. “I don’t think of it that way.”

“How do you think of it?”

Pause. “I think of my options.”

“Options?”

“Yes, options. Right now, I’m thinking when Father returns we will have to tell the village Opubeni’s message, and prepare the thanksgiving offerings. If the message requires an offering, we will have to prepare that as well. If Father does not return, we will have to tell the village that as well. We will have to prepare for the Priesthood ceremony, and it will have to be done quickly. We will have to come back to Opubeni, and -”

“I’m not ready!” Kandara muttered.

“Ready?” a frown furrowed her face, then cleared, “oh”, another short laugh.

“I don’t think I will ever be ready.”

Kajol’s eyes narrowed to slits as she turned to look at Kandara. Kandara’s head is bowed in shame, and she’s afraid to look at her sister.

“I don’t think I want to be Opubeni’s Priestess.” Kandara said, her voice a whisper, barely audible over the roaring of the waves.

********************************************************
In the land of the gods, there was trouble once more. Then again, the trouble that started in the time of Kabowei and Ebiere never really stopped. No, it simmered and now had come to a boil. Eneyi, the all powerful mother, was facing dissent in her kingdom. She was not troubled. She was not even worried, but her children, Opubeni, Agunowei, and Kirikeme were. They had abandoned their duties as protectors of mankind and had returned to their mother’s aid.

“You should return to your wards.” Eneyi said, for what seemed to her to be the umpteenth time.

“Don’t be silly, mother.” replied Opubeni, raising her voice, “we are here to help you handle this”

“I have handled it.”

“Obviously, not well enough”, Opubeni again, “ You don’t seem to understand the repercussions of your inaction.”

“Inaction?”

“Yes mother! You aren’t doing anything!”

“I have done enough. Nothing more needs to be done.”

“How can you -”

“Mother, we’re here now” Kirikeme cut in, “At least, let us take care of these rabble rousers for you.”

“ I wouldn’t call them rabble rousers, Kiri.”

“Okay, but they are trying to overthrow you.”

Eneyi laughed at that. “As if such a thing could be done.”

“It could, mother.” said Agunowei, you know it could.”

She smiled, “Agunowei, you have been with me the longest. You too are afraid of the throwaway insults of a few servants.”

“Servants that you have imbued with much power.”

“Only in the land of men. They have no power here.”

“True, mother, but if they get enough men to worship them or even fear them.”

“A very big if.” said Eneyi.

“A possibility none the less.” replied Agunowei, his voice gruff. Eneyi looked at him, then at her other two children. “That is why you must return to your wards.”

“No!” yelled Opubeni, “we are not leaving you alone, and that is final.”

Eneyi laughed again, then said, “Stay then, and look after my affairs. I will go down and look after yours.”




CHAPTER 2

Kajol looked at her sister’s bowed head, then turned back to look at the ocean. “I know” she said.

“I’ve always known. I have never understood why but -”

“Because I want to live a normal life.”

“What’s normal?”

“I don’t know.” she said, her voice distracted as her toes traced in the sand.

Kajol waited, not saying anything, not moving. The roar of the waves seemed louder.

“I want more in my life than just rituals and sacrifices.”

“Rituals and sacrifices are a part of everyone’s life.”

“Yes. A part. Not all encompassing. Kajol, we do nothing else!”

“That’s not true, dear sister”, she said, “ we listen to the demands of the dear dear villagers.”

Kandara sighed, then replied, “The villagers come with their prayers, not demands.”

Kajol hissed.

“It is our duty to help them -”

“A duty you tire of.”

“No. I do not tire of that. That is the one part of my life that gives me joy.”

“Joy?” said Kajol, and then threw back her head to laugh. “You expect too much from life, dear sister. Opubeni gives and Opubeni takes away. We just have to make do with our lot.”

“That is not enough for me.”

“Then you will live unsatisfied.”

“Are you satisified?”

“I do not seek satisfaction”,

That's all folks. I may go back to it. I don't know. What do you think?

PS. Deepest apologies to those who are having trouble leaving comments. I don't know why that's happening, but rest assured I will soon find a tech savvy friend to take care of it. Till that happens, feel free to leave me a comment on Twitter via @ChrisTimOere.

Muchos Gracias.