WHEN THE ONE YOU LOVE IS WITH ANOTHER

What would you do when the one you love is with another?

A number of possible actions come to mind. If you are a guy, you could decide to walk up to that girl who has stolen your heart and let her know upfront that you love her and want her badly. The thought reminds me of a song by Nigerian singer, African China where he says: ‘if you love somebody, walk up to her and tell her you love her because it’s no crime’. While I would not disagree with the ghetto-bred-but-now-international-music-icon (oh yes, the dude’s International now), I would clearly state that approaching a girl you feel romantically attached to is no easy feat, especially if you are genuinely interested in her. It takes guts and a never-say-die attitude, especially when you consider the risks involved. For crying out loud, every man has his pride and having that pride rubbished by a woman is usually a hard pill to swallow. However, this is a risk that must be taken once you decide to express your feelings to a girl whom you know is already involved with someone else. It is even worse when you and the girl have a good rapport and you know she and her boyfriend are in a rather serious relationship.

You have been folding your arms and watching from the sidelines as the girl you love gets caressed and fondled by another guy much to her delight. Oh, how that hurts! However, you sigh in pain and roll with the punches. You continually resist the feeling of jealousy that stems up in you every time and it has practically become a fierce battle you have to face all the time – a battle that gets worse by the day. Jealousy in itself is a crushing feeling that leaves one exhausted and ravaged and you gradually get to a point when you feel you cannot stand and watch anymore. So what do you do? I suggest two options:

- Taking the plunge
- Removing the hindrance.

TAKING THE PLUNGE – This would happen especially when you have reached the limit of your resistance. You simply walk up to the girl and let her know how you feel. However, you should bear in mind that you would be taking a big risk that could indeed see you losing the girl for good or on the other hand, winning her for yourself. The following could happen if you decide to take the plunge.

1. The girl could simply ignore you and assume you’ve had too much to drink. If she is a nice person who actually fancies you, she might remain friends with you but trust me, things would never be the same again and of course, you would have lost the chance of ever having her, probably forever. Sad, right? Yes I know but it’s a risk that must be taken.
2. If she hardly gives a hoot about you, she could right away heap a good load of verbal invectives on you and warn you never to come an inch closer ever again. Of course, this would be very embarrassing and worse still, you would have lost her friendship and the chance to ever have her, forever! (No probabilities!).
3. If she’s the nice and understanding type, she could listen to you and let you understand the situation of things, probably about how much she loves her boyfriend and ‘likes’ you but she would of course tell you she cannot be involved with you. The usual consolation such nice girls give in this situation is, “we can be friends.” Now, that would have gone rather well but trust me, it would only leave you feeling all the more drawn towards her and possibly lead you to further depression and desperation. I don’t think that solves your problem at all.

These are a few risks associated with ‘Taking the Plunge’ that I can muster at the moment. But then, who knows? You just might get lucky and have your gamble pay off. Perhaps, the girl has probably always fancied you as well and had been waiting for your move all the while. Perhaps all the obtrusive love play that you had seen with her and her boyfriend had only been an act to cover up the bitterness and pain within their relationship. You might just have your dreams realized then and you would be glad you had taken the plunge.

REMOVING THE HINDRANCE – I see this as the coward’s way out. This is a move that would be borne by a good deal of study and research on the relationship between this girl of your dreams and her boyfriend. Once you come to a conclusion that theirs is a rock-steady relationship and nothing seems likely to break it, you might do well to bow out as it just might be foolhardy for you to ‘take the plunge’. In the event where you cannot afford to bow out, it might be worth it trying to ‘remove the hindrance’. You might be curious as to what I mean by this.

It is evident that your ‘Beyonce’ of a girl would never give you a second look as she’s heads-over-heels in love with this ‘Jay Z’ so the only logical solution would be to get Jay Z out of the picture. Now, you don’t have to kill Jay Z or you might find out Beyonce never gets over his loss and becomes celibate forever. Yes, love does such things too. What would you have gained then? Nothing! Besides, the law might catch up with you and you find yourself spending the rest of your life behind bars if you’re lucky to miss the hangman’s noose. No, don’t kill Jay Z! So what do you do? It is pretty simple. Find a way to damage the boyfriend’s reputation. There are various ways to achieve this. For instance, you could use bait, maybe some other beautiful woman to lure him. Be sure to device means whereby the girlfriend finds out while ensuring you maintain your anonymity as neatly as possible.

Once you have succeeded, you could then present your shoulder as one to be leaned on and to be cried upon. Every other thing takes off from there. Now, you might say this is callous. Yes, I know but you want the girl, right? Okay, it’s a callous act so forget about the girl and remain on the sidelines. Oh, you don’t want that. I didn’t think so. After all, a desperate problem calls for a desperate solution. In ‘removing the hindrance’, there are numerous options. It requires sheer creativity and dexterity.

I should not neglect to mention the risks associated with Removing the Hindrance however. These also have to be put into consideration before you take this step.

1. The girl might love her boyfriend so much that she is willing to forgive him for even the worst crime. In this case, you have got yourself a lost case and the only option is to let her go and go look for some other woman.
2. The bait might not work. The boyfriend could be genuinely in love with the girl that nothing could make him do anything to hurt her (Yes, we have guys like that too!) and all attempts to damage his reputation may prove futile. In that case, you are bound to fail yet again in your bid.
3. You might actually get the girl but what do you do when the wind eventually blows and you are found out? It could take a while but trust me, once you are fingered as the culprit, the resultant effect would be far from pleasant.
These and more are also some of the risks associated with ‘Removing the Hindrance’.

Getting your desired girl comes with great risks, especially when she is involved and in most cases, it usually ends up a failed mission. However, some men go ahead to take the plunge or remove the hindrance and actually do succeed. Life after all is unpredictable.

What about a girl on a quest to catch a man who is with another woman? I guess that is a story for another day.

GEEBEE'S TRIP would resume in January 2011. Stay tuned. Enjoy what's left of 2010 and have a wonderful 2011.

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EPISODE 38 – WHEN A GLADIATOR SURRENDERS

These days, I prefer watching series films to full-length movies. The anticipation of subsequent episodes and seasons usually trigger an adrenaline rush within me and trust me, it feels so good. I have not seen too many of these series films but a few I have seen are: Prison Break, Lost, 24, Dark Angel, Rome, The Tudors, Breaking Bad, Hustle, Heroes, The Unit, Desperate Housewives, Boston Legal, The Apprentice, Merlin, Legend of the Seeker and others I cannot readily remember. Recently, I watched the first season of ‘Spartacus’ (yeah I know it’s been out since like forever! Mind me not) and I have been going crazy waiting for the second season.
‘Spartacus: Blood and Sand’ was off the hook and has since officially become my best series film after ‘24’. What has so much endeared me to this epic film, you might wonder? Is it the battles and the blood (oh, there were lots of them; gory scenes in fact!) Is it the sex scenes (Mehn, they had some bad and raw sex scenes and serious pornography!) I began to imagine how crazy the medieval era was with the amount of sexual energy constantly exuded among those who lived then, especially in societies like England and Rome. Still on the reason I am so much captivated by this film, is it the epic tale of love and devotion, sacrifice and passion? The answers to all questions are affirmative. In case you haven’t seen this film, please do but expect a lot of blood . . . and raw lovemaking scenes!

Why have I spent so much time talking about a film? A key feature in ‘Spartacus’ is the numerous battle scenarios. Usually, gladiators are made to fight in ‘the arena’ before thousands of Roman people for entertainment. These battles are usually to the very death. However, in certain cases, if the defeated gladiator surrenders, he is spared by his opponent, of course only with the approval of the crowd and the editor of the games. The fallen gladiator puts two fingers up as a mark of surrender. Surrendering to an opponent is always accompanied with disgrace and shame for the gladiator; hence most gladiators readily fight to the very death. That leads me to my question. Is it okay to ever surrender? The answer to that question depends on a good number of factors: your chances of ever winning that battle (if you decide to continue fighting), the level of your pride (would you rather die fighting than surrender to your opponent like a coward?) the strength of your opponent (if you decide to continue fighting), your ability to cope with shame and disgrace (if you surrender), your chances of rising up again (if you surrender) . . . the list goes on and on.

I might not have considered all the options but I did surrender after it appeared I could never win the battle I found myself in. The odds were indeed unfavourable to me. One, I had no chance of winning (especially not after all attempts to get rid of the pregnancy had failed). Two, my pride had become acutely weakened to a point where I almost felt like jelly. Three, I had since realized my opponent was a much stronger being – God! I couldn’t fight God without doing myself greater harm. The thought of shame and disgrace and the possibility of getting over it eventually were uppermost in my mind and it hardly seemed like I would be able to cope with what would happen if eventually the news of BG’s pregnancy got out. My head worked like a clock to create a solution or next line of action but I constantly found myself back at the same spot. The journey to my ‘raising two fingers’ began when BG’s pelvic scan result knocked the wind out of me first.

The gynaecologist had recommended that we went for a pelvic scan in order to know the true state of the pregnancy. The pregnancy test result had already confirmed her ‘still pregnant’ but he said a pelvic scan would give a total information of how far gone she was, the position of the baby and other stuff. He even suggested that it could be a fibroid!
“A fibroid?” I had asked, trying hard to recollect what a fibroid actually meant. BG also had an instant frightened look on her face.
“Yes, since you said you already had an abortion, it’s possible she’s not carrying a foetus but a fibroid. It’s like a growth in the womb and usually requires an operation to get rid of.”
I sighed painfully. What in God’s name was wrong with this ‘medical people’? I wondered, suppressing my anger. First, it was a theory of ‘twin foetus’ and now, a new theory of ‘fibroid’. Was I the crazy one here or was everyone crazy? I asked myself.
“That is why I suggest a pelvic scan,” the gynaecologist finished.

The next day, BG went for the pelvic scan. I had declined immediately when she asked me to accompany her on the excuse that I had a migraine, which I actually had. Truth was, I had heard enough bad news in the past few weeks to last a lifetime and I was almost too sure the next one would kill me.
“You just go for the scan, okay. I’ll be here waiting for you.” I said as she left for the lab.
After BG left, I decided to take a nap – one I hoped to wake up from and discover that I had only been having a bad dream. In fact I always slept with that wish every night since the last pregnancy test result. My efforts to fall asleep proved totally futile and the migraine worsened incredibly. I was bathing my head with cold water when BG returned about an hour later and from her countenance, I needed no confirmation that there was no good news. Actually, I had secretly hoped for the ‘fibroid’ theory to be correct; at least that would have saved me from the shame and disgrace of being found to have gotten a girl pregnant. A ‘fibroid’ would have totally exonerated me but alas, it was not a fibroid. I retrieved the paper BG handed over to me and on seeing the details I thought my head would explode.

The scan result showed a dark image that was hardly visible.
“What’s this?” I asked, pointing at the funny looking impression on the paper.

BG peered closer. “That’s the baby,” she said.
“What baby?” I asked stupidly.
“The baby I am carrying!” she screamed angrily.
I suddenly found it difficult breathing as I concentrated on the image. I could visualize an outline of a tiny head and a body within a seeming cloud. It was indeed a foetus! I looked at BG’s tummy instinctively as though I would see the baby staring out of its enclosure.
“But you don’t look at all pregnant!” I said, hardly taking my eyes off her stomach.
Indeed, she barely looked different from the same girl I had always known. There was no bulging sign of any kind. I poured some more cold water on my head.
“Look at what is written after the image,” BG said.
I obeyed and read the analysis beneath the image scan on the page. It revealed that conception had taken place on 27-10-06 and expected date of delivery was 27-07-07 + 7 days. The scan further revealed that as at that date, BG was 17 weeks 5 days pregnant. I slowly remembered that the supposed conception date had been the period BG and I first had sexual intercourse. I was ready to disappear right then. 17 weeks! That was like over 4 months pregnant! Yet, there was no change in her physical features.

We were back at the gynaecologist’s that evening and showed him the scan result. The man looked at the paper for a good while and sighed.
“She’s still pregnant,” he said.
I could have punched him in the face. Of course she was still pregnant! I was not blind!
“What can we do now, doctor?” I asked, my hopes for a solution gradually waning.
“I would advise you leave it.”
“As in, have the baby?” BG asked.
The man nodded. “This is a well formed foetus” he said, pointing to the picture on the paper. “Anything you do to get this off could damage your womb or even kill you.”
I felt the gladiator in me try to strike one last blow. “Can it still be removed anyway?”
The gynaecologist sighed. “Yes it could but it is risky. Personally, I would not try to abort a foetus at this stage.”
I felt my world crashing at that moment.
“Leave this one. You might be fighting against God if you try to do anything further to get rid of this pregnancy,” he added on a final note.
As we left the premises, I asked BG to go to her house.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
I sighed. “I can’t really say anything now,” I managed. “Please, just give me the night to think about this. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

That night, I decided I would show the two fingers and surrender but I would not face the shame and disgrace. If I did, I was not sure I would be able to bounce back so I decided to do what I thought might make things easier. I went to a bar nearby and drank myself to stupor. Thereafter, I headed to Viv’s place and smoked enough Indian hemp to knock my brains out. Getting to my house was an ordeal but I made it. It must have been about one a.m that night when I picked up a small bottle of a locally made insecticide called ‘otapiapia’. It was used as a mosquito killer cum rat poison and I had heard that it was equally poisonous for human beings. In fact, I actually heard people had died from ingesting this liquid and I decided it was my way out. I swallowed the remaining contents in one gulp and in my drunken state I could hardly feel the taste. I found my way to bed and lay down. I confessed my sins and asked God for his forgiveness. I also asked him to look after BG and the baby and a lot of other things. In between the prayers I fell asleep, hoping to wake up in Heaven . . . or wherever.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.

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EPISODE 37 – MEDICAL TRAUMA

Who likes anything negative? I bet no one does. I don’t either. Negatives tend to always have one thing or the other to do with bad stuff. In fact, no one ever prays for negative results. Now, how about the twin term, ‘Positive’? Now, everyone likes that, right? I looked up an English thesaurus to find words synonymous with the term ‘positive’ and found out that ‘positive’ could mean any of the following: optimistic, constructive, helpful, encouraging, affirming, etc. My point is, the term ‘positive’ is generally synonymous with pleasant happenings. However, that seemingly pleasant term could take a totally different turn and register a stark unpleasantness, hence in that instant you find yourself wishing for a negative. For instance, everyone wants a Negative H.I.V test result and a Negative Pregnancy test result, especially when having a baby is the last thing you want.

BG’s pregnancy test result came back positive and I was convinced for a good while that I was having a bad dream, a nightmare. If my memory served me right, we had gone for an abortion weeks before and the evacuation had been done, so what in hell was happening? ‘Positive’ meant she was pregnant but I was not sure of which pregnancy this one was - the one that had been taken care of or a fresh one? My head was spinning like a turntable under a mad deejay’s control. I examined the possibilities. I had not slept with BG after the abortion so technically it was impossible for her to be pregnant afresh, except she was the new Virgin Mary and I was sure God had no such plans for humanity anymore. The other possible option was the possibility of her still being pregnant with the same foetus we had since
terminated. What if the abortion attempt had failed? I felt a chill run through my spine as the thought crossed my mind. No way, I assured myself feebly. It was impossible.
“Are you sure the test was well carried out?” I asked her.
It was a rather stupid question but at that moment I hardly felt like one with complete senses.
“Of course the test was well done.” BG retorted, scarcely concealing her irritation.
“Was it a urine test or a blood test?” I probed further.
“A blood test,” she answered.
“Let’s try a urine test then.” I said. “You can’t still be pregnant.”
I wondered if I would have suggested a blood test had she told me she had done a urine test and I was sure I would have. I was convinced beyond every iota of doubt that BG could not still be pregnant; at least I had convinced myself to that extent.

BG left for the lab and immediately I called the doctor to break the news. The woman was shocked as well.
“You mean she has not still seen her menses?” she asked.
“No!” I barked into the receiver. “This is not even about the menses. She just had a pregnancy test and it was positive.”
“Are you sure you did not have intercourse with her after the evacuation?” she asked.
“No, we haven’t done anything of that sort” I said, struggling to keep my voice down. I was furious as hell.
The doctor hesitated for a while. “That’s a serious case. I am equally confused,” she said.
“That means you did not do the evacuation properly, doctor.” I accused.
“No way,” the abortionist defended. “I have been doing this for years and I have never heard of this situation before. Both of you should come and see me tomorrow.”
The first thought that came to mind as soon as I ended the call was to go see the woman, give her a lash of words and collect a total refund of my money. However, I decided otherwise since that would in no way help solve the problem. Besides, she might just be able to do something about it. While I pondered on the next line of action, BG called to inform me that the urine test had confirmed that she was still pregnant.

We were at the doctor’s clinic the next day and I sat in the consulting room and watched her examine BG. She pressed her stethoscope to BG’s tummy and listened for what seemed like an eternity. Then she applied some slight pressure on the lower tummy with her hands.
“Do you feel any pains here?” she asked.
BG shook her head. “Not at all”
The woman sighed. “I don’t understand what’s happening here. She does not appear to be at all pregnant but her abdomen is hard.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
The doctor removed the stethoscope from her ears slowly. “It means she’s over two months pregnant.”
“That’s the same pregnancy you terminated!” I exclaimed. “You did a lousy job, woman!”
“Don’t shout at me, young man!” the doctor retorted. “I did my job and I did it well. You can ask your woman. The foetus was evacuated.”
“So what could have happened?” I asked weakly.
The woman did not respond for almost one minute and I was about to repeat my question when she gave a most ridiculous opinion.
“Maybe it’s twins.”
I was not sure I heard right. “What? I beg your pardon.”
“I said it’s possible that she was pregnant with twins and only one was removed while the other one remained.”
I decided this woman was not just a quack. She was equally insane! I beckoned to BG and we left the clinic.

I was now sure that I was in deep trouble. BG was indeed pregnant and I wondered why things had gone so awfully wrong. I had repented of my sins and since turned a new leaf, so I could not fathom why God seemed so bent on punishing me and subjecting me to so much ridicule. My waterloo was almost inevitable now, especially because I could not bring myself to taking BG for another abortion. Her reaction when I broached the subject totally kicked the idea off my mind.
“You must be crazy!” she lashed. “Another abortion? Why don’t you just take a knife and kill me yourself.”
I wished I could have done that if only I would go scot-free. Truth was, even if she had been willing to go ahead with the abortion, I had lost all courage to go through with it. The unsuccessful abortion attempt opened up my eyes to the possibility of a higher power being at work. I decided to resist whatever power could be at work and got a prescription that might help in our bid to terminate the pregnancy from a friend who knew a gynaecologist.
“This drug can remove a three-month old foetus in fact. My doctor says it’s safer than abortions,” my friend had told me. He also added that there were mild side effects that would not pose any real threat.

Getting the drug cost some good money and we hoped we would get our problem solved for good. Two weeks later, the situation was still the same and at that point, I became totally convinced that I was fighting against God in a battle I could never win. My friend decided we go and see his gynaecologist friend. Booking an appointment with the doctor took another two weeks and all the while, I continually observed BG’s physical features. There was nothing about her to suggest she was pregnant and I hoped I would not go mad with worry. Finally, we met the gynaecologist by mid February and on examination he confirmed that BG really could be pregnant. He also corroborated the woman doctor’s ‘twin-foetus theory’ as a possibility much to my utmost shock. He advised that BG went for a pelvic scan in order to be certain of the precise situation. The result of the scan proved to be the final blow. I decided to throw in the towel and surrender to the powers that were dealing with me.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.

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EPISODE 36 – BACK TO SQUARE ONE

I have heard news in the past few days that have had me smiling. I smile out of derision and at the same time, out of admiration as two records are set to be broken. I heard that a group of Nigerians have decided to put our country’s name in the Guinness Book of Records by baking the world’s largest cake, a 65-ton and six-foot high cake, to commemorate the nation’s 50th independence anniversary on October 1st. The representative of the group affirmed that the cake would be distributed across all the states of the Federation and Nigerians would have the opportunity to eat out of the ‘national cake’ literally. I laughed at the story till my sides ached. A taste of the national cake indeed!

I also heard that the leader of the defunct hip-hop group, Fugees and rap lord, Wyclef Jean is set to run for the post of President of his country, Haiti. Now, that is great news. I hope he wins and makes a record as the first rapper/hip-hop artist to become a nation’s President. After all, the actor, Arnold Schwarzenegger became Governor of America’s most populated state, California and even got a second term. Wyclef Jean is probably the greatest export out of Haiti; just as Emmanuel Adebayor of Togo (some say he’s actually Nigerian. Who no go claim better thing?) and Didier Drogba of Ivory Coast. I know these guys are worshipped in their countries. I believe the ‘Diallo’ crooner has the interest of the people of Haiti at heart and has always been involved in activities to push his nation forward but I am forced to wonder if philanthropy is actually a criterion to engage in politics. The fact that you have a passion for your country might not necessarily make you the best person for the job, especially for an extremely economically-backward nation like Haiti.

The recent disaster in the country has further worsened their plight and I believe only a man with a clearly spelt-out vision, strategy and error-proof agenda can bring that country out of the pits. I hope Wyclef Jean achieves his dream especially for the love of hip-hop. However, I am reminded of the great football legend, George Weah’s ambition to become the President of Liberia and how he lost to Ellen Sirleaf-Johnson, a woman with a stronger agenda and greater experience in national policy formation. Weah was also a ‘god’ in Liberia and had done so much for his nation but when the people had to settle for one who would lead them out of the pits they were, they settled for the less known person with more intellectual capacity (some say the election was rigged in Sirleaf’s favour. Me I no know o). Speaking of Haiti, it would definitely feel good to shout ‘PRESIDENT WYCLEF JEAN . . . Diallo! Diallo! I have almost forgotten I was here to continue my story. Damn you, Clef! Lol.

January 2007 began with great promise. I was a changed man and I could practically feel the fire burning in my bones – the fire of purpose; a purpose to shun all acts of irresponsibility and embrace God and my academics seriously. I almost felt like Moses returning from the mountains and I hoped people could see my shinning countenance. The holidays were over and I returned to school, hoping I would be able to follow my new found dreams. However, I found myself wondering on a few occasions how I would have to face BG when we saw each other again, an inevitable situation. If I had my way I would never have wanted to see her ever again, not because I hated her. On the contrary, I still cared about her but I wanted the entire experience we had gone through put behind me forever and painful as it was I believed it was best to separate from her for good.

A few days into resumption in school, I bumped into her and I could hardly believe the extent of my nervousness at that moment. She looked every inch as cute and delicate as she had always been and I felt my heart drawn to her.
“Hey BG, how are you?” I managed.
“I’m alright,” she said with admirable ease. “When did you return?”
“Last week.”
“You did not even bother to call me. That’s not fair, Geebee.”
I sighed. I knew I should at least have called her to let her know I was in town. I wondered on the other hand if that would have been necessary. After all, we had both agreed to part ways and move on without each other.
“I’m sorry about that.” I apologized.
She shrugged and shook her head slowly before walking off. I felt crushed at that moment as I remembered the good times we had once had and particularly the fact that she really did not deserve all that had happened to her. I wished I had a choice but I believed at that moment that I didn’t. I tried hard not to imagine how much BG would hate me right then.

A few days later, she called me on phone and told me we needed to talk. I wondered what on earth she wanted us to talk about and decided immediately that if she was going to ask that we get back together, I would not hesitate to refuse her request. In fact, I was almost sure that was why she wanted to see me. I agreed to see her in order not to seem overly arrogant or as though I was deliberating avoiding her which I was really doing. However, it was best not to make myself look like any worse than I really was and refusing to see her would have painted a perfect picture of this. We met in our usual hangout and sitting with her evoked fond memories I had to struggle to push back. BG went straight to the point.
“Geebee, I am worried,” she said.
I suppressed my irritation. “What are you worried about?” I asked impatiently.
“I still have not seen my period.”
The words sent a chill running through my spine as sweat broke out on my forehead. What was she trying to do? I wondered suspiciously.
“What are you implying?” I asked, deciding to shout the hell out of her if she was trying to play stupid games with me all in a bid to get my attention.
“I don’t know,” she said, “but I thought by now I should have seen the flow.”
I wanted to tell her to go to hell as that was none of my business. I wanted to walk out on her and leave her to go fish out the hiding flow or whatever she damned saw fit. I had done my part for chrissakes! As much as I wanted to take these actions, I could not find the courage. I dared not take any more risks; especially not after all we had gone through in the bid to get rid of the foetus. I had to be sure there was nothing left to worry about.

It had been over one month since the abortion and there was no excuse why she should not have seen her menses. I remembered the doctor had assured us after the evacuation that all she needed to do was rest, take some antibiotics and eat well and she would be okay. The woman had further said that BG would see her menstrual flow within three to four weeks at the very worst. Now, that did not seem to be happening. I hoped her womb had not been damaged or some interruption in her body system had occurred as those were the only possible reasons I could think of that could have been responsible for her situation.
“I would call the doctor first thing tomorrow,” I said.
I called the doctor as promised and her reassurances greatly eased my worries. She informed me that there could be exceptions in certain cases and BG’s body system was likely adjusting to the interference, especially since she had hitherto been a virgin. The explanation seemed rather confusing and far from convincing but it made a great deal of sense as I needed just any information to put my mind at rest. She further requested that I call her if nothing happened within the next two weeks.

I called BG immediately and relayed all that the ‘abortionist’ had told me, stressing the fact that she had nothing to worry about. However, two weeks later, the ‘flow’ was still no where in sight. At that point, I began to worry greatly and BG’s calls had become more frequent much to my chagrin. I contemplated asking her to go for another pregnancy test but immediately kicked out the thought. She could not be pregnant, I assured myself; at least not for me again, I added mentally. While I pondered on the awkward situation, BG went for a pregnancy test yet again and when I saw the result I wished the ground would open and swallow me up for good. It was POSITIVE.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.

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EPISODE 36 – BACK AT SQUARE ONE

I have heard news in the past few days that have had me smiling. I smile out of derision and at the same time, out of admiration as two records are set to be broken. I heard that a group of Nigerians have decided to put our country’s name in the Guinness Book of Records by baking the world’s largest cake, a 60-ton and six-foot high cake, to commemorate the nation’s 50th independence anniversary on October 1st. The representative of the group affirmed that the cake would be distributed across all the states of the Federation and Nigerians would have the opportunity to eat out of the ‘national cake’ literally. I laughed at the story till my sides ached. A taste of the national cake indeed!

I also heard that the leader of the defunct hip-hop group, Fugees and rap lord, Wyclef Jean is set to contest for the office of President of his country, Haiti. Now, that is great news. I hope he wins and makes a record as the first rapper/hip-hop artist to become a nation’s President. After all, the actor, Arnold Schwarzenegger became Governor of America’s most populated state, California and even got a second term. Wyclef Jean is probably the greatest export out of Haiti; just as Emmanuel Adebayor of Togo (some say he’s actually Nigerian. Who no go claim better thing?) and Didier Drogba of Ivory Coast. I know these guys are literally worshipped in their countries. I believe the ‘Diallo’ crooner has the interest of the people of Haiti at heart and has always been involved in activities to push his nation forward but I am forced to wonder if philanthropy is actually a criterion to engage in politics. The fact that you have a passion for your country might not necessarily make you the best person for the job, especially for an extremely economically-backward nation like Haiti.

The recent disaster in the country has further worsened their plight and I believe only a man with a clearly spelt-out vision, strategy and error-proof agenda can bring that country out of the pits. I hope Wyclef Jean achieves his dream especially for the love of hip-hop. However, I am reminded of the great football legend, George Weah’s ambition to become the President of Liberia and how he lost to Ellen Sirleaf-Johnson, a woman with a stronger agenda and greater experience in national policy formation. Weah was also a ‘god’ in Liberia and had done so much for his nation but when the people had to settle for one who would lead them out of the pits they were, they settled for the less known person with more intellectual capacity (some say the election was rigged in Sirleaf’s favour. Me I no know o). Speaking of Haiti, it would definitely feel good to shout ‘PRESIDENT WYCLEF JEAN . . . Diallo! Diallo! I have almost forgotten I was here to continue my story. Damn you, Clef! Lol.

January 2007 began with great promise. I was a changed man and I could practically feel the fire burning in my bones – the fire of purpose; a purpose to shun all acts of irresponsibility and embrace God and my academics seriously. I felt like Moses returning from the mountains and I hoped people could see my shinning countenance. The holidays were over and I returned to school, hoping I would be able to follow my new found dreams. However, I found myself wondering on a few occasions how I would have to face BG when we saw each other again, an inevitable situation. If I had my way I would never have wanted to see her ever again, not because I hated her. On the contrary, I still cared about her but I wanted the entire experience we had gone through put behind me forever and painful as it was I believed it was best to separate from her for good.

A few days into resumption in school, I bumped into her and I could hardly believe the extent of my nervousness at that moment. She looked every inch as cute and delicate as she had always been and I felt my heart drawn to her.
“Hey BG, how are you?” I managed.
“I’m alright,” she said with admirable ease. “When did you return?”
“Last week.”
“You did not even bother to call me. That’s not fair, Geebee.”
I sighed. I knew I should at least have called her to let her know I was in town. I wondered on the other hand if that would have been necessary. After all, we had both agreed to part ways and move on without each other.
“I’m sorry about that.” I apologized.
She shrugged and shook her head slowly before walking off. I felt crushed at that moment as I remembered the good times we had once had and particularly the fact that she really did not deserve all that had happened to her. I wished I had a choice but I believed at that moment that I didn’t. I tried hard not to imagine how much BG would hate me right then.

A few days later, she called me on phone and told me we needed to talk. I wondered what on earth she wanted us to talk about and decided immediately that if she was going to ask that we get back together, I would not hesitate to refuse her request. In fact, I was almost sure that was why she wanted to see me. I agreed to see her in order not to seem overly arrogant or as though I was deliberating avoiding her which I was really doing. However, it was best not to make myself look like any worse and refusing to see her would have painted a perfect picture of this. We met in our usual hangout and sitting with her evoked fond memories I had to struggle to push back. BG went straight to the point.
“Geebee, I am worried,” she said.
I suppressed my irritation. “What are you worried about?” I asked impatiently.
“I still have not seen my period.”
The words sent a chill running through my spine as sweat broke out on my forehead. What was she trying to do? I wondered suspiciously.
“What are you implying?” I asked, deciding to shout the hell out of her if she was trying to play stupid games with me all in a bid to get my attention.
“I don’t know,” she said, “but I thought by now I should have seen the flow.”
I wanted to tell her to go to hell as that was none of my business. I wanted to walk out on her and leave her to go fish out the hiding flow or whatever she damned saw fit. I had done my part for chrissakes! As much as I wanted to take these actions, I could not find the courage. I dared not take any more risks; especially not after all we had gone through in the bid to get rid of the foetus. I had to be sure there was nothing left to worry about.

It had been over one month since the abortion and there was no excuse why she should not have seen her menses. I remembered the doctor had assured us after the evacuation that all she needed to do was rest, take some antibiotics and eat well and she would be okay. The woman had further said that BG would see her menstrual flow within three to four weeks at the very worst. Now, that did not seem to be happening. I hoped her womb had not been damaged or some interruption in her body system had occurred as those were the only possible reasons I could think of that could have been responsible for her situation.
“I would call the doctor first thing tomorrow,” I said.
I called the doctor as promised and her reassurances greatly eased my worries. She informed me that there could be exceptions in certain cases and BG’s body system was likely adjusting to the interference, especially since she had hitherto been a virgin. The explanation seemed rather confusing and far from convincing but it made a great deal of sense as I needed just any information to put my mind at rest. She further requested that I call her if nothing happened within the next two weeks.

I called BG immediately and relayed all that the ‘abortionist’ had told me, stressing the fact that she had nothing to worry about. However, two weeks later, the ‘flow’ was still no where in sight. At that point, I began to worry greatly and BG’s calls had become more frequent much to my chagrin. I contemplated asking her to go for another pregnancy test but immediately kicked out the thought. She could not be pregnant, I assured myself; at least not for me again, I added mentally. While I pondered on the awkward situation, BG went for a pregnancy test on her own and when I saw the result I wished the ground would open and swallow me up for good. It was POSITIVE.

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EPISODE 35 – RESOLUTIONS

I believe I would not be particularly mistaken when I say it is a fact that we all run into one form of trouble or the other from time to time in the course of our everyday lives. These little (or big) misfortunes vary in form – domestic (in the possible event of your parents catching you as a teenager kissing a girl/boy in your room), marital (in the possible event of your spouse stumbling on a ‘wrong’ text message in your inbox), academic (in the event of your getting on the bad side of an evil lecturer and having to face the consequences of ‘carry-overs’), professional (in the event of you having to face another query at work over a misconduct of some sort) and what have you. These troubles are numerous and we all face them from time to time. In fact, even our Lord, Jesus Christ had his share of troubles while on earth. Talk of the pressure from the Pharisees and Sadducees and other hypocrites who tried to frustrate His ministry. The fact remains however that troubles don’t last forever and as such, once such unpleasant situations hit their expiration time, a feeling of gratitude and calm somehow beclouds the troubled party. I am still yet to find that person who has a wish for unending troubles or feels sad once a bad phase in his or life comes to an end.

The end to our troubles of course prompts us to make a quick decision and that is a resolution never to find ourselves in such a situation ever again. We all make this promise to ourselves as a conscious or innate wish or a verbal affirmation. Whichever way it goes, we instantly repel the possibility of finding ourselves in the same troubled spot we just came out from. The sad fact however is that not everyone eventually gets this wish or promise fulfilled. Sooner or later, some find themselves back in that situation; getting caught yet again by your parents kissing another guy/girl in your room (after you had been giving the talk/beating of your life and then forgiven); forgetting to delete that romantic text message from your secretary and your wife seeing it yet again; having to write another carry-over course because you annoyed another lecturer yet again or having to pray you don’t get ‘fired’ this time as you prepare to face yet another query at work; etcetera etcetera. The fact remains that we all make resolutions and mean them as at the time we make them but somehow along the way, shit happens. Imagine the billions of New Year resolutions that are made every year and try to find out if the tiniest percentage of these resolutions actually see the sixth month of the year (Now, I am blushing. I have hardly kept any of mine this year. lol). Sorry about the long gist but trust me, it is part of the story.

I was eternally grateful the worst was over. It was the second week of December 2006 and as Christmas approached, I silently thanked God that I never had to spend that season still carrying the burden of BG’s pregnancy. It was over at last and I could never have been happier. My next point of call was to gather all the weight I had shed over the past month. I had indeed lost weight during the ordeal and I almost looked like a walking corpse. Being tall and slim had always felt sexy but in the space of six weeks I had moved from slim to ‘thin and ready to break’ as friends and foes alike voiced out their observations of my weight loss. I was glad BG and I were finally free but I still had my candid reservations. I was constantly hit by the ‘judge’ in my spirit man that I had murdered an unborn child. I never had dreams or nightmares and such sort but I could not hide from the fact that I had done an evil thing. I tried to justify my actions by telling myself that a sin was a sin, be it fornication, stealing or murder, it was all the same in the sight of God and all I had to do was ask Him for forgiveness. I even went to the point of convincing myself that I had not really committed murder. After all, it had just being a probably undeveloped six-week old foetus. As much as I tried to justify my actions, the guilty feeling persisted and then I realized I needed to find God again.

A week later, I was at the Redemption Camp with my family for the 2006 Holy Ghost Congress and it was a time of great refreshing. I did all the confession and promise-making I could do and by the time we left the Camp, I was sure I was totally forgiven. I decided it was time to become fully dedicated to God and truth is, I meant it with all my heart. The Christmas of 2006 was perhaps the most saintly period of my life and I was sure things would continue that way. I had decided it was best I focused on God and my studies and shun every other form of sinful indulgence and as far as I knew, that included BG. I did not hesitate to point out that fact to her when we spoke on phone during that holiday season and I was particularly glad she did not try to argue with me or challenge my decision.
“So, does that mean there is nothing between us anymore? BG had asked.
I caught the edginess in her tone but I was not at all willing to change my mind.
“We are still friends but nothing more,” I said after a little hesitation.

In between that brief hesitation, I tried to imagine how she would have been feeling. She had been a virgin until she met me. I had practically pressured her into giving me her virginity and she had gotten pregnant and we had gone through the worst ordeal possible. Then, we had scaled through and here I was telling her it was over. I instantly crushed the feeling of pity and consideration and stood my ground on the issue. I knew she could not point any accusing fingers at me for reasons that had always served as my alibi. First, the relationship had begun in a most unexpected manner as I never did ask her out. Secondly, I had wanted to sleep with her but the final choice had been hers in spite of her initial refusals and third, I had accepted responsibility for the pregnancy and stood by her all through the troubles and that alone would have made it practically impossible for her to accuse me of being wicked or unreasonable. As the last days of 2006 approached, I looked towards a wonderful and fulfilling New Year, devoid of all the previous troubles I had ever encountered and I made a resolution to devote myself totally to my academics, career pursuits and ultimately, God. Unknown to me, those resolutions were about to face the toughest test and if I could survive this test, I could survive anything. The big question however was if I would be able to face this test successfully.

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EPISODE 34 – A SIGH OF RELIEF

Sometime last week, news filtered in that a colleague of mine back in University had passed on while she tried to deliver her baby. It was a most shocking news as I still remember seeing her a few months before and even though we were not particularly close, I can authoritatively state that she was a very likeable person; very gentle and easy going all through the almost-seven years we spent in University as Economics undergraduates. I remember she had gotten married before our final exams began and my heart went to her husband and baby (if it survived) and the loved ones she left behind. For some mothers, having a baby seems like the most natural thing in the world but then when you think of people like B (real name withheld), you can’t help but sigh and appreciate the grace of God that has kept you alive, taking you through the labour room without hitches. I turned twenty-five yesterday and once again I was reminded that it is simply the grace of God that has kept me alive all this while; in spite of the good and bad ordeals and nice and terrible things I have done in this quarter of a century of my existence. I believe in fresh starts and so here’s hoping that the next twenty-five years of my life go down in history as the best anyone ever lived. THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES continues from the last episode.

The doctor had assured Cher and I that we had nothing to worry about. In fact, she had asked us to give her fifteen minutes within which BG would be out of the theatre and so I could hardly breathe when the same woman came out less than seven minutes later with a frown on her face. She proceeded to inform us that the abortion would not be possible that day due to a ‘little problem’ as she put it.
“But you said there was nothing to worry about,” I said in a voice that I hardly recognized as mine. “What is the problem?”

The doctor sighed and I had to hold myself back from choking her. Her body language was making me wonder if there was something worse that had happened. Perhaps BG was already dead on the operating table and this woman was finding it difficult to break the news. I pushed back the thought almost immediately.
“Is she alright? What have you done to her?” Cher asked, already taking slow steps towards the room we had seen the doctor emerge from.
“Nothing lady,” the doctor said quickly. “I have not even touched her. She’s fine.”
I looked at the woman curiously for a second. If BG was fine as she now claimed, what was the funny look on her face all about? I wondered.
“You are responsible for her condition, right?” the doctor asked me in a low voice.
It was a most annoying question. I imagined pointing to Cher as the person responsible for BG’s pregnancy to insult the woman’s intelligence for daring to ask me such an unnecessary question considering how tensed I was at that moment. Of course, it was obvious I was responsible. I brought her there for crying out loud. I simply nodded in agreement.
“How often have you two . . .” she said, cutting off her words and making funny gesticulations with her hands. I immediately knew what she was trying to ask and I wondered what that had to do with the situation.
“Once,” I said sullenly. “It was just once.”
Cher hissed furiously.
“Doctor, what is this all about?” she asked. “We came here to have the thing removed so why are you asking all these unnecessary questions? If you cannot do it, let us know so we could go someplace else.”

The woman asked us to sit down and I did. Cher remained on her feet, looking as though she would grab the doctor in any minute and beat her up. The older woman looked at Cher for a second and turned to face me.
“You see, I asked you that question because I had to be certain your girl’s situation was not out of the ordinary. I observed that her ‘opening’ is too narrow and if I am to go ahead with the evacuation now, it will only cause her serious damage. Obviously, she has not had enough penetrations to expand her vagina walls and that’s why we have this situation.”
I cursed myself inwardly for the umpteenth time. A single moment of pleasure was causing me this hell and here I was being practically ‘blamed’ for doing it just once. The doctor was indirectly saying we should have done it many times over in order to have her vagina walls wide enough for an evacuation. What nonsense!
“So what do we do now?” I asked.
The woman went on to inform us that she had induced her vagina walls with some ‘medical thingy’ I can’t readily remember now and assured us that the tissues around the walls would be more relaxed by the following day and the evacuation would be easily done. She advised that BG left with us and we all returned the next day. She added that it would help if we had good and forceful sex that night. I cringed with revulsion.

We had hardly gone a few yards from the clinic when Cher informed BG and I that she would be returning to school immediately. I almost fainted. There was no way in hell I could allow her leave when she was yet to fulfill her purpose for coming in the first place.
“Guys, I have tried now,” she said. “I have a test in school this afternoon and I can’t miss that for the world. Besides, I believed this whole thing would have been over today.”
BG and I pleaded to no end but this time around our pleas met the toughest brick wall. Reluctantly, I gave Cher some money for her transport fare back to her school. I realized there was no running away now. I would have to be the only one with BG at the abortion. I consoled myself in the fact that Cher was now involved somehow; after all she was aware of the situation. I decided I could use that to my advantage in the event of any misfortune.

The next day, we were back at the hospital and as BG was taken into the theatre, I sank in the same chair I had sat the previous day and wished Cher was around to be my accomplice once more. I realized that in spite of her irritating behavior, her presence had done a great deal to relieve the pressure. However, it was a different ball game this time and the pressure was almost unbearable. I jumped when I heard a scream from somewhere in the distance. It sounded like BG’s voice and I began to pray like I had never done in my entire life. I asked God for his forgiveness for going ahead to kill an unborn child and to save me from further embarrassment by sparing BG’s life. I made a vow to get closer to him and dedicate my whole life to him if only he would answer my prayers at that moment and I knew I meant every word. Almost thirty minutes later, the doctor came into the waiting room and this time, she was smiling. I needed no one to tell me the worst was over. I heaved the deepest sigh of relief as the woman told me I could go in to check on my girl.

BG had been transferred from the theatre to one of the patients’ wards for a bed rest and as I entered the room, she smiled at me weakly. I moved closer and held her hand tenderly. For sometime, we remained silent and I tried to picture what the future would look like. As far as I knew, it was over between us. We had no choice but to part ways, each of us going separate ways but I wondered if she was truly ready to let me go, or if I was indeed ready to let her go for that matter.

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EPISODE 33 – A TIGHTER KNOT

I guess everyone who watched the World Cup would agree with me that the just concluded soccer fiesta remains one of the most successful ever in spite of the officiating flaws and the ridiculous number of cards awarded. The 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa has been the most unpredictable and interesting soccer event of all time, especially with the climax of the final between Spain and Netherlands. The culminating final made me feel like a prophet because I had earlier tipped the European duo for the finals along with England, Germany and Brazil as possibilities. Octopus Paul of course also did a great job of prediction and I have been wondering if we could enlist the awesome creature’s prowess in determining the political future of Nigeria among other things.

Anyways, it’s all over now and I’m glad we have a fresh new World Cup winner in Spain, and they also happen to be the current European champions.
I felt particularly sorry for Netherlands as they have now been in three World Cup finals without ever winning the coveted trophy. Well, I guess the moral of the story here is that you might get it right the first time (in the case of Spain) and also that you might try for a good while without achieving your dreams (in the case of the Netherlands) but nevertheless to keep trying until you get it right. Meanwhile, I have changed my recently adopted Ghanaian nationality ever since Asamoah Gyan denied Ghana the semi-final ticket with his fluked spot kick in the game against Uruguay. I am now Spanish and I choose to be called Hugo Gonzalez. That said, let’s return to our story.

I had decided I would never take BG for an abortion without the knowledge of at least a member of her family and she voiced her objections immediately.
“There’s no way that will happen,” she said stubbornly. “My sisters would kill me and my dad could have a heart attack if he hears of it.”
I sighed in frustration. “At least one of your people must know about this if we are to go ahead.” I told her pointedly.
“Why?” she asked.
I could not tell BG that the reason I wanted one of her siblings to be involved was because I had doubts on the possible success of the abortion. I had an ominous feeling that the abortion might have an unfortunate outcome and I was not ready to carry the whole weight of whatever happened all alone. I thought it would be much easier to cope with the eventuality if one of her folks was involved.
“I just want one of your people to be involved.” I said angrily as I could not come up with any other good reason to tell her and I would never mention what actually influenced my suggestion.
“Please, we can’t. They would kill me if they hear of this,” she said, referring to her sisters as she broke into a sob.
“What about Cher, your sister. We can call her and explain to her, can’t we?”
BG fell silent for a while.

She had told me about her immediate elder sister, Cher who was five years older. Most of the stories hardly painted a good-girl picture of the older sibling. Cher was the black sheep of the family and all her teenage and adolescent life, she had always given them a reason for worry. She partied to no end, hung out with bad company and indulged in every vice young women could involve in. I learnt from BG that her sister had also had a series of abortions. To the family however, BG had always been the perfect opposite, being the good girl everyone doted on and it was almost a constant practice in their home for Cher to be scolded and asked to learn from her younger sister and inculcate her good behaviour, much to Cher’s chagrin.
“What would Cher think of me?” BG asked pleadingly. “She would think I’m just like her. I am sure she would tell everyone about it just to prove that she is not the only bad girl in my family.”

I sighed as I realized there was a good deal of sense in what BG had said. However, we had no options here. Her other three sisters were much older and married and it was most obvious they would probably have me hanged if the news ever fell on their ears. I was almost tempted to go ahead with BG’s suggestions that we go for the abortion on our own but I decided it would not hurt to play a last card.
“What if I talk to her?” I asked.
“Talk to whom? Cher?” BG asked confused.
I nodded. I believed I could find a way to convince Cher to help us. BG told me earlier that she had confided in Cher that she had a boyfriend but made it clear that it was a no-sex relationship much to her elder’s sister’s derision. I also learnt that Cher had said she would like to see her little sister’s boyfriend. I decided it would be a good idea to capitalize on that and I asked BG to call her sister and ask her to come over to meet me.
“I’ll come on the condition that you guys will take me out for lunch at Chicken Colony and pay my cab fare to and fro,” Cher pointed out to BG on phone.
We agreed and she came over from her school to meet us at Chicken Colony, a fast food joint in the neighbourhood. I sized her up from a distance as she approached us. She did not at all look too bad. She was a more mature version of BG and I needed no one to tell me she was far much more experienced in every subject, good and bad. She appeared to be sizing me up as well and I smiled within.
“So you are the Geebee,” she said casually. “How are you doing?”
“I’m alright.” I said. “Thanks for coming.”
She smiled at BG. “He’s not bad. I’ll give him a 7.”
We laughed and gradually settled in.

While we dined, I approached the subject as carefully as I could. She had a blank look all through my narration, a look that finally switched to one of shock and surprise as soon as I dropped the bomb about BG’s pregnancy.
“My God!” she exclaimed, looking at her sister in obvious surprise. BG looked down shamefully. I imagined Cher jumping up and starting a victory dance over her confirmation as the-not-the-only-bad-girl-in-the-family but she remained rooted to her seat trying hard to take in the news.
“I realize this is not the best of conditions for us to meet but we really have no choice here and we need your help desperately.” I concluded.
She flashed me a confused look.
“My help? What do you guys expect me to do?” she asked, dropping the piece of chicken she had been holding for what seemed like an eternity.
“We want to go for a D and C,” I said.
“You mean an abortion,” she said. “Let’s call a spade what it is, please” she said in obvious irritation.
I sighed. “Okay, an abortion. We want to have an abortion.”
“Of course you have to have an abortion except you want our father and elder ones to kill her.” She looked at her younger sister and sighed.
“So what do you guys need my help for?” she continued. “I am not a doctor now. Or you guys don’t have the money to go through with it? I have none either.”
“We don’t need money actually.” I said calmly. “We just need you to come with us to the clinic.”
“No way, my brother,” she offered immediately. “You guys are on your own.”
“Please, we just need you there for the moral support.” I said. I was trying hard to contain my frustration. Things were not going as I had thought they would.
It took a great deal of pleading and BG had to break into a sob at a point as we begged Cher to come with us. Eventually, she agreed much to my greatest relief.
“I hope the doctor who’s going to do it knows the job,” she said. “I know one or two who can handle it smoothly,” she offered.
I thought about her offer but decided otherwise as I had spoken with a doctor a friend had referred me to and she had agreed to perform the abortion at a rather affordable cost once we were ready.
“We have someone. Thanks a million, Cher.” I said gratefully.
Cher simply shrugged and bit into her chicken. I excused myself so the sisters could play catch-up and say whatever they had to say to each other in my absence.

The next day, Cher, BG and I left for the clinic first thing in the morning. The doctor had been expecting us as I had confirmed our appointment the day before. The supposed doctor was a good natured woman with a beautiful smile and she assured us we had nothing to worry about. I was concerned about BG’s diminutive frame and I asked the doctor if that would not be a problem. She simply laughed.
“You call her ‘small’?” she said pointing at BG. “Girls who are in their early teens and still in secondary school come here all the time for this and they are out within minutes. She'll be up and running in a flash. Relax, my friend and give us fifteen minutes.”

I felt lighter and sat with Cher as we watched the woman lead BG into the operating theatre. I sat lost in thoughts for a while and could not even strike a conversation with Cher. I was sorry I was bringing her into such a shameful situation.
“I am sorry about this, Cher” I managed.
She sniffed. “You just pray nothing happen to my sister and once this is over, you had better stay away from her for good.”
“I will.” I said, meaning it with all my heart. I had decided that it was best BG and I went our separate ways once the baby was out of the picture and I was sure she would not mind the decision one bit.

About seven minutes later, the doctor came out of the theatre with gloves on her hands but with a worried look on her face. I could suddenly feel my heart racing furiously. What had happened? I wondered. Was BG alright? Cher got up almost immediately after I did and we approached the woman apprehensively.
“Doctor, how is she?” I asked impatiently.
The woman sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You would have to come back tomorrow. There was a little problem.”
I could have been knocked down by a feather at that moment.

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EPISODE 32 – QUO VADIS?

I promised myself I would not talk about the ongoing FIFA World Cup but somehow it almost feels irresistible. Well, a line or two wouldn’t hurt now, would it? Let me quickly share this joke with you guys.

A teacher found his pupil sitting in class after school and asked him why he was not on his way home like the rest of his colleagues. The eight year old boy was sad because he had come second in the weekly test.
“Why don’t you want to go home?” the teacher asked.
“Because my mummy will beat me,” the boy answered.
“What about your dad?” the teacher asked.
“He will beat me too,” answered the kid.
The teacher was surprised. “So where do you want to go?”
“I want to go and meet the Super Eagles,” the kid said.
The teacher was shocked and confused. “Why would you want to go meet the Super Eagles?” he asked, wondering what his pupil meant.
“Because they do not ever beat anyone,” the boy simply answered.

I’m not surprised our dear Super Chickens Eagles crashed out in the first round of the tournament. Did anyone really expect them to do anything different? Now, whoever did must be a dreamer. I once heard ‘foolishness’ defined as doing something the same way over and over and expecting to get a different result. The team definitely needs a thorough overhauling and until that happens, we should not expect anything spectacular from these chickens eagles. This is the first World Cup on African soil and unfortunately all the African representatives except Ghana crashed out in the preliminary stage. Right now, I feel elated that Ghana have managed to beat U.S.A in the second round and reach the last eight, a record for them, making Ghana the third African country to reach the quarter finals of the World Cup after Cameroon in 1990 and Senegal in 2002. For the remaining duration of this tournament, I have become a Ghanaian and you can call me Kofi or Mensah. lol. Wao, have I gone beyond two lines? My bad! Back to our story, people.

I struggled to come to terms with the fact that BG was pregnant. It was a most shocking realization and I sat holding the lab result in my hands for almost an hour. My mind remained totally blank and I practically forgot BG was sitting beside me.
“What are we going to do now?” she asked finally.
It was a question I had no answers to. What was the next step? I asked myself repeatedly but could not quite find an answer. I had never being in such a situation before. I had been having sex for about six years but no girl had ever gotten pregnant for me and I never had any friends I knew who had been in similar situations. It was a totally new experience and I felt confused as hell. I decided immediately that we could not have this baby as that would be the very death of me. The problem however was how to get rid of the pregnancy. I realized for the first time that I was indeed a novice.
“Please, just allow me think, okay.” I told her calmly after she repeated her question.
“But you have been thinking for over an hour now,” she challenged.
I quite understood her fears. She was in a more precarious situation as it were as her overall personality had never prepared her for such a situation. She was the ‘baby of her house’ and her father and older siblings doted on her to no end. In fact, as at the time, they could vouch for her virginity, thus I could identify with her worries. I also had mine but I was doing my best to control myself. It would have taken no serious effort for me to throw myself on the ground and cry my eyes out considering the consequences that lay ahead of me. I got up without a word and took a walk leaving her sitting where she was. I believed I needed a clear head and her nagging would have made matters much worse.

In my desperation, I strolled to Viv’s Place, a spot in the neighbourhood where I hung out once a while. Viv, a rather interesting young woman ran the place and sold alcohol, Indian hemp and local gin among other stimulants men indulged in. She had always been fond of me and my friends and we usually had good conversation in between shots of local gin and puffs of smoke. I decided to confide in Viv, hoping she might be able to give me some good advice on what to do.
“How many months be the belle?” Viv asked after I narrated my ordeal to her.
I recalled the night BG and I had our first sexual intercourse; the one that had resulted in the pregnancy. It was a little over three weeks and I told Viv immediately. She simply laughed, took a puff of her joint and passed it to me. I declined with a nod of my head. That was the last thing I needed at that moment.
“Na that one dey make you fear?” she asked mockingly. “Na small thing be that now. If to say the belle don reach three or four months now, na wahala be that.”
I sighed gratefully and thanked the good winds that had blown me Viv’s way. She went on to prescribe the most ridiculous combination of items which included dry gin, alligator pepper, lime, Ampiclox tablets and some other stuff I can’t readily remember. I was asked to mix all these together and have BG swallow the mixture. Viv assured me that my woman would see her menses within two days. I thanked her profusely and left the place feeling much light-hearted.

That evening, we followed all the prescriptions and by the time the brew was ready, I tasted it and almost choked as it was a most nauseating concoction. However, the reality of our situation left us with no choice and BG managed to drink the potion, restraining herself from vomiting with great effort. I spent the entire night attending to her and trying to calm her down after the potion began to have its effect on her. By morning, things seemed much better and we patiently looked forward to the ‘flow’. Three days later, the situation had not changed and I was back at Viv’s. The woman was visibly shocked and told me she did not understand why the mixture had not worked. She asked if I was sure I had followed her exact prescriptions and I assured her I had. She enquired further if I was indeed sure my girlfriend was not over three months pregnant as that would have been the only exception to the efficacy of the concoction. When I insisted my woman was just about three weeks pregnant, she simply shrugged and advised us to go for an abortion. I realized this meant deep trouble. I had decided earlier on that I would not want to have BG go for an abortion as I greatly feared it could lead to unexpected results. I had heard many stories of the unpleasant outcomes of abortion such as complications, damaging of the womb or even death and I was not ready to take that risk. That was the major reason I had gone to Viv in the first place. At the same time, I could not bear the risk of having BG keep the pregnancy as it would put us both in a most embarrassing and damning situation. Now, Viv’s suggestions had failed and we seemed to be running out of time. By my calculation, BG was now four weeks pregnant.

We waited for another two weeks, hoping that somehow by a miracle, her menses would suddenly return and the pregnancy would be history but nothing of such happened. I observed BG closely but noticed no significant changes in her body and neither did anyone within her immediate family as she admitted. However, we realized we needed to do something about the situation as soon as possible. By the sixth week of her pregnancy, we finally decided to go ahead with the abortion. I had great fears and so did BG but we convinced ourselves that we would face a worse situation if her family found out that she was pregnant or if mine got wind of the fact that I had gotten a girl pregnant. I had a deep fear of the unknown and as such I decided I would not take BG for an abortion without someone from her home being involved. The lot fell on Cher, her immediate elder sister, a fun-loving girl who would be able to keep a secret. The one hurdle however remained how we would convince Cher to be a part of our plan.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.

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EPISODE 31 – JACKPOT!

As I write this post, the FIFA World Cup in South Africa is on and the much anticipated match between Nigeria and Argentina in Group B is underway. Presently, Argentina leads by a lone goal, courtesy of a carelessly conceded goal resulting from a well taken Argentinean corner. Mehn, I had to bounce immediately after the ball went into our net but my ears are pinned to the commentator’s comments emitting loudly from my TV a few feet away. I’ve had to rush off from my laptop screen to the TV like once or twice thanks to the hypertension-generating sounds. I hate watching games of this nature, especially when it’s the Super Eagles playing. Somehow I’m not a big fan of the Super Eagles, probably because I always feel they’d disappoint and they sure do times without number. I know it sounds unpatriotic but I’d rather spend hours and millions of cash watching Arsenal rather than watch the Super Eagles play. Anyways, it’s not that Arsenal FC have been doing great lately. Hopefully, the Super Eagles would prove me wrong today and overturn the deficit. It’s about 33 minutes now and anything can happen, right?

What comes to your mind when you imagine the term, ‘Jackpot’? At first thought, one would imagine hitting a big prize in a casino or the lottery or some good luck situation. The thing about a ‘jackpot’ is the fact it is usually unexpected. Of course that’s the fun in the whole show – the suspense! However, hitting the jackpot could come in varying forms, positive or negative. Some guys in my part of the world also have a funny way of defining ‘jackpot’. We’ll come to that point shortly.

Before long, I was over ST even though I still hoped in my mind that things had turned out differently, it felt good to be free of her. I finally convinced myself to give my relationship with BG a try and things started working out pretty well. We got much closer and towards the end of October 2006, we finally broke the jinx. We had sex, as in real sex. Surprisingly, the experience did not turn out to be as horrific as I had thought it would be, especially considering our ordeal on our failed first attempt. On that fateful day, we both knew in our hearts that we were ready and so we released ourselves to the flow. I had a second thought and probably a third as well about going ahead to take BG’s virginity but she was willing to give it to me this time. The guilt I had always felt about my seeming greed and inconsiderate nature was no longer there and even though the experience was a brief one, it was one that remained forever etched in my memory and hers, I believe. Of course, the blood and the pain were part of the experience but there was a lot more mature tone to it and I felt no regrets of any kind. I had to confirm her feelings about it and I was glad to hear an affirmative report. She was equally glad it had happened. That was probably the defining point of our relationship and at that moment, I was convinced we would last longer than I had ever envisaged, although I had no long term plans in mind. I had turned twenty-one the previous July and I still believed I had nine years to go before jumping into the marriage boat.

However, less than a week after the incident, a strange feeling suddenly beclouded me. I felt there was something wrong somewhere but I couldn’t quite place a finger on it. I spoke with BG on phone a couple of times during that period and she seemed perfect. After a serious soul-searching and finding nothing out of the ordinary, I managed to relax. The unpleasant feeling nevertheless persisted and I convinced myself that it was probably a mood swing that would sort itself out in due course. I had been used to mood swings all my adolescent life and it was hardly unusual for a boy like me who happened to come from a broken home. I quickly shrugged off the feeling, suppressing it to the best of my ability.


By the first week of November, I felt curious and asked BG if she had seen her period lately. I have always been a very overly inquisitive person and I practically knew the dates BG had her periods, even before we ever had sex and from my calculations, she had a near perfect cycle. The distance between her periods hardly ever exceeded twenty eight or twenty nine days and I came to learn that was a most perfect situation for a girl. BG was totally unaware I studied that much about her personality and we had an inside joke where I would usually predict her periods and they would come exactly when I had predicted or at best a day earlier or later. But this time, she told me she was expecting the ‘flow’ that weekend. It was a Tuesday and I recalled her last period had come exactly twenty nine days before. The Friday of that week would have implied a thirty-two day gap which was pretty unusual for her. She did not realize this nor did she seem to be bothered and I could not express my concern on the issue to her. I hoped in my heart that the ‘flow’ would come by the weekend as she had predicted.

The weekend came and I decided to give my heart a rest. I did not call her all through, deciding to call her on Monday, hoping that she would have been heavy with the flow by then and thus give my heart a big lift. She spared me the wait by calling me on Sunday to tell me she was still yet to ‘see her period’ as she put it. I felt a sudden chill pass through me. I did not want to believe she could be pregnant. She was too innocent, too naïve, too ‘small’ to get pregnant for heaven’s sake. Besides, it had only been one act. She had been a virgin until then and were virgins supposed to get pregnant on the first attempt? I had a million questions running through my head but no answers were forthcoming. I thought of the consequences that awaited me if my worst fears were confirmed. I would break my mother’s heart. My father would probably kill me. I would be an object of scorn and the laughing stock of all the girls I had previously dated, rebuffed or treated badly. My friends would be disappointed in me. Sam would have the last laugh. The last point had me wondering deeply. My relationship with Sam had lost its previous spark ever since BG and I began dating and what would he say or think after hearing that I had gotten BG pregnant. The situation was crazy. Plain crazy!

I quickly calmed myself down and decided there was probably an explanation for what was happening. What if BG’s body system was adjusting to her new status as an ex-virgin? Maybe girls were expected to have changes on their menstrual cycle after they started having sex. What if God was trying to test me? What if BG was trying to test me? Perhaps she had ‘seen her period’ already and was just pulling my leg. I held on strongly to the last thought and hoped to God that it was the situation. I realized however that BG was not one for making such jokes. Ordinarily, she would have called me with excitement at the first sight of blood she spotted. However, I prayed this case was an exception and I struggled desperately not to get drowned in my fear. I convinced BG that her body system was probably adjusting and things would be okay. I asked her to relax even though my heart was completely on fire. I did not ever mention anything as regards a possibility of pregnancy to her. I was glad she was reassured by my words. It was best not to let her realize how scared I was, I decided.

By mid-week the situation was the same and I began contemplating she went for a pregnancy test. She called me on Thursday and that phone call was the beginning of severe trauma. I was in class when the call came in and I had to sneak out to take it.
“Geebee, I need to see you urgently” she said in a most sullen voice that clearly showed that all was not well. I sensed there was danger but composed myself.
“Really? I’m in class right now. What’s the matter? Don’t you have lectures today?” I asked, desperately trying to conceal the apprehension I felt.
“Please, leave whatever you’re doing and come now. I’m on my way to your place” she said before ending the call abruptly. I had heard a sob underneath her tone before the line went dead and I needed no one to tell me the bubble had burst.

I made it to my house in record time to find BG sitting in front of my house looking like she was carrying the world on her shoulders and indeed she was at that moment.
“How are you?” I asked calmly. I knew the look on my face was far from reassuring this time. I had grown tired of trying to show a strength that really wasn’t there. BG simply sighed and reached into her bag and produced a folded piece of paper which she offered me. I needed no soothsayer to tell me what it was. I sat beside her and collected the paper. It was a lab test result and as I opened it, I spotted the word ‘POSITIVE’ clearly written in the HCG/Pregnancy column. I heaved a deep sigh. I was undone at last. I had hit the jackpot at a very wrong time. Only God would help me.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES

PS – The match is over and the Super Eagles could not at least try to salvage a point. Argentina 1, Nigeria 0. Tragic! Hope y’all have a wonderful World Cup experience.

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EPISODE 30 – A TIME TO KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!

Before I begin, I’d like to inform y’all that this blog has been nominated for BEST PERSONAL BLOG on the Nigerian Blog Awards. Now, that certainly thrills me. I was nominated in three categories of the awards last year but failed to win in any. Annoying, right? You bet! I remember I was just a relatively new blogger then and was nominated alongside some heavyweights so it was so easy not to win. lol. Let’s hope things turn out differently this time and that’s only gonna happen if y’all VOTE FOR ME. So go ahead and vote THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES for BEST PERSONAL BLOG by clicking HERE. Voting begins on May 31 so be sure to pop in and vote for your boy. Thank you. On that note, let’s begin Episode 30 of THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.

Life sometimes throws a painful reality in our faces and that happens to be the fact that the things we desire most just somehow elude us. It could be that coveted position, that plum job, that business deal or whatever. On a more personal level, it could be the fact that a girl you so much desire happens to be with another man or the other way round. These things hurt real bad but the irony of life is that they just seem destined to always happen even to the very best of us.

I met ST by sheer coincidence during the period I was contemplating leaving BG. It was at a party during the Christmas season of 2005. She was not exceptionally pretty but she had a good height and a nice figure, one that would make any guy look twice, well except the guy was blind or gay. ST was the chic all the guys wanted to groove with on the dance floor and I couldn’t help nodding and smiling to myself as I watched the girl have fun and get a good dose of attention from the guys. Of course there were other girls at the party but somehow she happened to be the type who felt more comfortable with the guys. At a point in the party, she came to sit beside me, panting heavily. I noticed she was quite exhausted.
“You’re really something,” I remarked.
“Yeah, I love dancing” she said. “Besides, I’ve not partied for a good while.”
I simply smiled and took another swig from my beer, wondering if going into much conversation with her would be a good idea. I really did not want to seem to her like all the other guys in the house fighting for her attention.
“Lord, I’m thirsty” she said looking around for any of the waiters.
“I don’t think this would help” I offered, showing her the bottle in my hand in an attempt at humour.
She frowned. “Nah, I don’t drink, especially not Stout”
“I see” I said. “It’s actually medicinal. You should try it sometime.”
Fortunately, she got a pack of juice from a passing waiter and drank a good deal of its content before setting the pack down with a deep sigh. “Now, that’s better.”

We sat in silence for a while, watching the party rock.
“Don’t you dance?” she asked at last.
I had hardly expected such a question. “I do but the dance floor over there looks a little too rough” I explained. “I prefer the smooth stuff.”
“Really? That’s unusual” she remarked.
“Just kidding” I said. “But really, I prefer a less-crowded dance floor”
We spoke for sometime and danced together as well. For the rest of the party, we had a good deal of conversation and to my greatest surprise she ignored every other guy who tried to get her attention. I wondered if I had not attracted unnecessary 'beef' from the guys by suddenly taking her away from them. ST did not seem bothered however as she stuck with me. I felt pretty lucky but I did not see the possibility of anything serious happening between us. I never really like girls who were used to so much attention from guys and ST definitely fit that bill.

Over the next few weeks, we began to talk on phone once a while. Our chats were usually interesting and I realized I enjoyed talking to her. We never brought romance into our discussions. In fact, I never bothered to ask her if she was in a relationship and she never bothered to ask me either. I discovered that I felt more comfortable that way even though I also found myself wondering if this girl had a thing for me or was just out to have a good time with a new guy. We never saw each other until about four months later and she actually told me she would love to visit me. At this point, I realized ST was interested in me and I had to admit to myself that I was glad that was the case. On her first visit, I played the perfect host, making her as comfortable as possible. That day, I realized there was a strong chemistry between us but I decided to keep things simple. It was a pretty difficult situation to handle especially considering the fact that she was practically flashing me her ‘green lights’ but I knew I would not want to get serious with her and I thought it best not to take advantage of her.

About a week later, she called me up and said she would love to visit me again. I agreed and this time, I knew it would be hard to resist her. I was right. Despite my efforts to play the perfect host once more, the sexual tension was evident and by the time I held and kissed her, she did not give the slightest resistance. We made love right there and while we lay in bed after the lovemaking, my thoughts went to BG who had told me she was ‘finally ready’ a few days earlier. I had a strong feeling it would be better if I let ST know I was in a serious relationship just so that she could totally push off any ideas of anything serious going on between us. I didn’t mind having flings but I could not be involved in more than one serious relationship at a time, especially considering the fact that I was just twenty.
“ST, I must tell you something” I began.
“What is it?” she said, still lying on my chest.
“I am in a relationship” I said. “I just thought I’d let you know.”
She shot me a furious look and without a word, got up and headed for my bathroom where she locked herself up and had a good cry. I stood at the door all the while, pleading with her. I explained that I had never thought we would go this far and things had happened so fast.

After she left, I wondered if it would have been better to keep quiet and not tell her about my relationship. However, I had decided to be truthful and as it appeared, I had hurt her by being truthful. I had become very fond of ST but I believed I owed it to her to be honest and that was what I had done. My friends hardly helped my dilemma when I related the story to them. They accused me of being foolish and not behaving like the player that I was. At a point, their words began to make sense. Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut and let nature run its course. Besides, how was I sure ST gave a damn if I was in a relationship or not? I realized I had spoilt everything by opening my mouth and sometimes I still wonder how things would have gone with ST had I kept my mouth shut. As they say, what you don’t know can’t kill you.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.

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