EPISODE 42 – SCALING ANOTHER HURDLE

Every now and then, even the very best of us fall sick in various forms. Sometimes, it is minor stomach trouble or a skin rash. It could be a headache or toothache. It could also be a cold or catarrh. There are numerous forms of illness and an outline of these would create an inexhaustible list. I have definitely been sick a good number of times too but lately, especially in the last couple of years, I have been blessed with excellent health. However, if I were to rank illnesses in accordance with their level of discomfort, I would rank catarrh and cold as the worst of the lot. It’s like a wicked interference with one’s ability to breathe comfortably and a most despicable condition. I would rather have malaria, stomach trouble (now not really), toothache (hmmm, kinda), a fracture (Now, let’s reconsider) and any other form of illness than cold and catarrh (of course excluding HIV/AIDS too. lol). Of all the good things of life, the ability to breathe freely is most priceless and should definitely not be taken for granted.

I returned smiling and happy and of course breathing easily. lol. I ended up spending the weekend at my mum’s place before returning. My mum proved to be the best mother in the world and I could hardly believe my good fortune in spite of the precarious situation. She was obviously disappointed but she remained calm and encouraging, dishing out every motherly advice she could muster. I imagined she was afraid I might go ahead to do something crazy or hurt myself and that was probably why she was so angelic instead of raining fire and brimstone on me for what I had done. She assured me that she would come around to see BG’s family as soon as possible to straighten things out concerning the BG’s pregnancy.

I called BG up immediately after I settled in and she came over to see me. I studied her carefully and still marveled at the fact that she hardly looked different from how she had always been. It was rather unbelievable that she was already over four months pregnant.
“Geebee, you ran off without letting me know. Why?” she attacked.
I sighed. The last time we had spoken was about three days before, on the very day I set out to see my mother. I had not told her I was traveling especially because I was still unsure of my plans at the time. While I was with my mum, my phone had been turned off just to relieve the pressure I was bound to get from being hounded by BG’s calls. I had no regrets however because as it were, everything had turned out well and in fact I could not wait to break the news to her.
“I’m sorry, BG,” I said, holding her hands tenderly. “You can’t imagine how confused I have been all this while.”
She looked at me angrily. “Confused? Do you know what I have been going through as well? I needed you to be there and you just disappeared. How do you think that feels?’
“Come on, it was just for three days,” I countered. I am sorry, baby” I added, drawing her closer to me. “I did what was best. I went to see my mum.”
Her shock was evident. She sat up immediately. “You did what?”
I smiled. “You heard me. Things are going to be fine. You wouldn’t believe what happened.”

I went ahead to tell her how things went and how my mum reacted in the exact opposite of what I had imagined would happen.
“Wao, that’s great news,” she muttered, sighing gratefully.
I nodded in agreement. “Yes it is. I feel like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. My mother has promised to come and see your family as soon as she can.”
“My family?” BG queried nervously. “I have not told them about it yet.”
I shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I have told my mum so you can easily let your folks know as well and everything would be okay.”
She shook her head slowly. “You make it sound so easy. They’ll kill me. My father must not even hear about it. It would kill him.”
“How about Cher, your sister?” I asked nervously.
“That’s another impossibility. Cher believes we have gotten rid of the baby since December. She knows nothing about the current situation.”
“And no one in your house suspects a thing?” I asked.
She shook her head. I was not at all surprised. Indeed, she hardly looked pregnant.
I sighed in frustration. Now, this was another problem. I was tempted to shout at her and tell her to find a way to break the news because I had done my part and I was not going to go through the ordeal of having to convince her annoying sister to help us again.
“BG, we don’t have a choice here. We just have to find a way through this.”

Cher was irritating as usual when she was brought into the picture this time around. In fact, she was pretty shocked to find out that the abortion attempt almost two months before had failed. She did not hesitate to express her disbelief.
“Are you guys sure this is not a fresh pregnancy?” she asked, looking at me.
I shook my head. “I wish it was but believe me, it is the same one.”
She hissed. “I wish you had listened to me then. Obviously, your doctor was a quack. That pregnancy was less than two months for crying out loud. Any third year Medical student would have been able take care of it successfully.”
I ignored her comments and BG went ahead to sell her the ‘twin foetus’ theory. She laughed for a good while. “Come on guys, you really don’t believe that, do you?”
I shrugged. “I really don’t know what to believe, honestly.” I said. “The issue here now is, there’s nothing we can do about the pregnancy except have the baby.”
“What?” Cher said, visibly shocked. “You want to have the baby?” She looked at her sister.
“That’s why we need your help again,” I said, hating myself so much at that moment.

Cher sighed. “Why must I always be the ‘fixer’ for your problems? What do I have to do this time? Adopt the baby?”
I winced at the annoying remark. The lady was driving me up the wall and I was tempted to tell her to go to hell but it was obvious if I did, BG would be the one to suffer the consequences. Cher hardly seemed like the type of person who would stand by her sister alone especially after the guy responsible for the pregnancy had insulted her. I kept my cool.
“We want you to help us break the news to your sisters,” I said.
She was silent for a while and we patiently awaited her response.

I tried to imagine what would be going on in her mind. Her task did not seem as difficult as the last one. This time, there was no risk of death through abortion complications. All she was required to do was break the news to their elder sisters; something BG would be unable to do considering that she was the culprit in question. The only issue there seemed to be was the fact that the pregnancy was already over four months old. Besides that, there seemed to be no other problem. Once that hurdle was scaled, I foresaw a smooth sprint all the way to the finish line. After all, my mum was already aware and had accepted the situation. Three days later, Cher called and informed BG and I that she had informed her eldest sister and the woman had requested that I come see her. At that moment, I felt a wave of uneasiness wash over me and began to wonder if indeed the last hurdle had been scaled.

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EPISODE 41 – A BREATH OF FRESH AIR

Now before you begin to think I am here to campaign for Goodluck Jonathan, let me issue a clear disclaimer that I am not! I have observed that two of the key catchphrases in GEJ’s campaign as made popular by his supporters and strategists are the ‘Do you want fresh air in Nigeria?’ and ‘Goodluck Jonathan . . . a breath of fresh air!’ slogans. Well, I would not begin to disagree or agree with that now but I sincerely hope GEJ is really the man a lot of people are making him out to be.

I watched the Presidential debate two Fridays ago and I kinda wondered why he wasn’t there. That would have been a good opportunity for him to sell his candidacy to people like me who are still very skeptical about his capacity to truly bring about the change we all need in Nigeria. I am definitely going to vote during the elections which are now so close and I hope you are. I wish I could arrange polls on who would be the final choice among the frontrunners (as NN24 put it), speaking of the likes of Muhammadu Buhari, Nuhu Ribadu, Ibrahim Shekarau and of course, President Goodluck Ebele Jonathan (GEJ). Now, I wonder why NN24 would have labeled them frontrunners. What happens to the likes of Pat Utomi, Dele Momodu, Chris Okotie and other presidential candidates? Do they even stand a chance? Beats me! That said, let’s return to our story and find out what ‘a breath of fresh air’ has to do with all these?

My mum’s possible reaction was unpredictable as at the time I broke the news to her. I had tried in vain to imagine what she would do or say on hearing the news and constantly hoped that God was indeed in control as she had said. Was he? Looking back, I could say he actually was. I managed to look at her and the shock on her face was clearly evident. I was pretty sure she would have blushed had she been of Caucasian descent. My heart began to race rapidly as though I had literally developed high blood pressure. Suddenly my breath caught in my throat and I considered the thought of possible suffocation, hardly dismissing the possibility; a situation I really would not have minded at that moment. Finally, she spoke.
“You did what?” my mum asked, as though she had not heard me the first time.

I cringed with revulsion. Breaking the news had virtually being an uphill task that had taken every ounce of strength in me and now, she wanted me to repeat myself. I simply stared at my toes again, bracing up for the worst. I thought about the possibility of her hitting me or biting me, which would have been most welcome if that would be the only price I needed to pay for my sins. I could practically feel her eyes piercing through me and I could imagine the shocking and pained look she would be wearing at that moment. I cursed myself for allowing myself cause such a wonderful woman so much pain.
“How did this happen, Geebee?” she asked, her voice considerably lower this time. I had a flash of relief on realization that she was trying hard not to react in the expected manner.

I went on to tell the entire story in the most saintly way I could in a most desperate way to paint myself as a little innocent boy who just got unlucky and hit the jackpot on his first attempt. It was a most sorrowful mood further accentuated by my sobs and trust me, they were genuine sobs at that moment. I truly regretted the situation and would have given anything to reverse things. My mum was particularly shocked when I got to the part of the story that revealed that my girlfriend was already four months pregnant. In between the story, she burst into tears too and I wondered what must have been going on in her mind. I knew I had broken her heart and hoped she would indeed forgive me.
“God has a reason for everything,” she said at last as she sighed sorrowfully.
“How old is she?” she asked.
“Four months,” I replied, wondering if my mum had not heard the part of the story about the age of the foetus and how on earth she knew that it was a ‘she’.
“I mean the girl . . . your girlfriend” she clarified. I noticed the uneasiness with which she said ‘girlfriend’. The woman was a minister in church and indeed, she would never have condoned such a practice of her son engaging in the sin of fornication.
“Twenty,” I said. BG had turned twenty the previous September.

My mum had remained silent for another while, a situation that made me much more uncomfortable. Gradually, I realized things were not going as badly as I had thought. I could actually breathe some fresh air at last. Eventually, she told me we had no choice but to accept the pregnancy. She added that she would find time to come visit my girlfriend’s family and inform them that we would accept the pregnancy.


As I watched my mum walk to her room, I remained on the spot for what seemed like an eternity. God had indeed taken control. I had come into the house prepared for the worst and I had gotten a reaction that was far beyond my imagination – a positive one. I sighed and tried to picture how the next few days would unfold and what surprises they could spring forth. BG was yet to let anyone in her family know about her situation and I did not want to begin to dampen my spirit with thoughts of the difficulties we might face in the process. I was glad I had finally broken the news to my mum and for the first time in weeks, I could actually breathe. It was not just any kind of breath. It was indeed a breath of fresh air and I decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

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EPISODE 40 – SPILLING THE BEANS

In a flash, two months have already gone by in this New Year and it still feels like 2011 began just yesterday. I find myself wondering if we still have the same twenty four hours in a day that we had in the past; or perhaps, an hour has somehow become less than sixty minutes and a minute has become less than sixty seconds. I can hardly understand why time seemed to be much longer when I was much younger than now. Or, do little kids see time’s passage differently? It definitely appears so and I don’t think I need to begin to explain that now. Children are pretty lucky as they do not have to worry about life the way adults have to; so time just goes slowly and smoothly for them while we, adults practically carry the weight of the world on our shoulders everyday and our thoughts, worries and ceaseless plans make time run faster in our eyes. I woke up yesterday and realized it was 1st of March! Hmmm, another year speeding by like a race car in the Formula 1 series. The annoying part of the whole experience remains the fact that with each passing day, we grow older. I thought I noticed a strand of grey in my hair yesterday and almost screamed. Grey hair at twenty five! No way in hell that ain’t happening, I assured myself as I peered closer into the mirror. Alas, it wasn’t grey hair. It was a little hair brush strand that had somehow come off and lodged itself in my upcoming afro, posing as a grey. I sighed gratefully. Of course we’d all grow old but I wish it wouldn’t be too quickly. lol. THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES continues.

I had made up my mind that I would go ahead and inform my mum of what had happened. This decision was much influenced by factors well beyond my understanding and control. I felt like I was in a typical Nigerian movie. I remember a movie I had seen sometime back when I still watched local movies. This one starred Keppy Ekpenyong Bassey and in the movie, he got himself involved in some occultic mess and desperately tried to escape the repercussions by ending his life. At a point, he put himself in the way of an oncoming trailer and the thing refused to kill him. I can’t remember the movie title now but I’d bet some of the Nollywood fans reading this would probably have seen that movie and so can give us the title. That was exactly how I felt. First, all attempts of aborting the pregnancy had proved abortive (no pun intended) as we came to realize when we had received the shock of our lives after believing all problems were finally over. Then, I had decided to bow out when the ovation was loudest (you might call that taking the coward’s way out. lol) and tried to take my own life but that again had failed. The only logical next point of call was to turn myself in.

Two days after the suicide attempt, I traveled to see my mum. Throughout the five-hour journey, I constantly hoped the bus I had boarded would somehow skid off the expressway and tumble into the river or one of the ditches on the side of the road but of course, none of such happened. The powers in control were certainly determined to ‘open my yansh’ as some would say. On arrival, my mum was delighted as usual to see me but that motherly intuition came to play almost immediately. She practically read me like a book and knew all was not well. Anyway, my countenance could not have looked bright with the weight I was carrying on my shoulders. How was I going to break this news?
“Geebee, are you well? You look so pale and emaciated,” mum said lovingly, as she felt my neck with the back of her hand and held onto my shoulders like a woman would do to her seven-year old son. At that moment, I wished I was indeed a seven-year old son who was remorseful for losing his pencil at school and not a young man who was about to crash his mother’s world with a most shocking news.
“I’m fine, ma” I managed to say, as I moved to sit on one of the chairs in the living room. I had not come with any bag or anything else besides the clothes I had on and the sandals on my feet. In fact, the plan was to break the news and run off immediately. I was still convinced my mum would never take the news lightly and I wanted to be ready for the worst. I even had my transport fare back well kept in my pocket just in case she decided to throw me out at that very moment.

“Have you eaten anything?” she asked and immediately called out to her maid to come and get me food. I sat there silent, hardly paying any attention to her. Food was the last thing on my mind at that moment. I realized for the first time that I had not tasted anything all day and it was almost evening.
“Is it your father again?” my mum asked concernedly.
I shook my head. I understood her concern. She was aware I had not been on good terms with my dad especially since my decision to get my own place outside his house and she was probably worried that the man was still giving me a hard time.
“Mum, please sit down. There is something I have to tell you.” I said in the calmest voice I had ever heard myself speak.
Her countenance instantly changed. I beheld the fear clearly evident on her face.
“Is everyone okay?” she asked in a troubled tone. “What happened? Did someone get hurt or . . .”


I wished I could answer her according to her fears. I wished I could tell her that indeed some random family member had suddenly died or been arrested and that was why I had come. I wished I could tell her anything besides what I was going to tell her. I could bet my life at that moment that of all the thoughts that were running through her mind, none would have ever included the possibility that her son had gotten a girl pregnant and not just that; the foetus was already over four months old! I sighed again and wished I would suddenly wake up from the nightmare I was having. As at that moment, I still always hoped like I had ever since the dawn of the nasty episode that I was actually in an exceptionally long dream that I would awake from someday.

My mum sat down, her gaze hardly leaving my face. It was a steady gaze that made me feel very uncomfortable. It was almost as though she would see through me and know everything in an instant. For a second, my mum looked like a five year old child waiting expectantly to be told a story. However, in this case, it wasn’t excitement that was written on her face. It was fear! I averted her gaze and looked down. To my greatest surprise, I broke into a sob. The last time I had cried in my mother’s presence, I was about eight or nine years old. In fact, when I had lost a dear cousin at sixteen and she had broken the news to me, I had locked myself up in my room to cry. My mum was visibly shocked and rushed to my side immediately. She held me in her arms while I wept like a baby. I could imagine how confused she felt at that moment.
“Geebee, what is the matter? Talk to me” mum said, resting my head in her lap.
“Mummy, I don’t know how I am going to tell you this.” I managed amid sobs.
“Just tell me what it is, okay. God is in control” she added.
I felt a little relieved at her last statement and I really hoped God was in control. However, I still had a feeling in my heart that she could say that because she did not yet know the gravity of what I was about to tell her.
“Mummy, I have offended you. Would you be able to forgive me?” I asked, my head still hidden on her lap as I dampened her clothing with my tears.
She attempted to lift my head so she could look into my eyes and I sat up and wiped my eyes.
“Geebee,” she began, looking into my eyes. “Do you have another mother?”
I shook my head. “No mum.”
“Good. There is nothing you have done that I cannot forgive so tell me what it is.”

I sighed and hesitated for a little while. I looked up to see the maid came into the living room, apparently to inform us that the meal was served. My mum politely waved her off and told her that I would come to the table shortly. I waited for the maid to exit the room, buying myself some time for composure.
“Mum, I have gotten a girl pregnant” I said, looking down at my toes.
I could not look into her eyes at that moment but I was totally sure I had just given her the shock of her life. I thought again on how I would break the rest of the news. As far as I was concerned, all I had said was just a tip of the iceberg. How would I let her know that the pregnancy was not just a fresh one but a four month old pregnancy? I hoped again that God was indeed in control like she had told me.

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EPISODE 39 – NO WHERE TO RUN

The last episode of GEEBEE’S TRIP was posted on this page about over five months ago, precisely on 1st September 2010. At that time, it never occurred to me for a split second that the next episode would take another five months but then, you know. . . Truth is, I had to throw myself into other stuff – a new business I had to nurture, a new apartment I had to get settled in, a book I’ve been working on for some time etc. Somehow, the zeal to continue the series just seemed to disappear into some place I don’t know. Thankfully, this post is here and coincidentally, the last episode stopped at the point where the first season of the series would have stopped when it becomes adapted for television in the near future. Oh yes! Plans are in the works to make this a television series in the near future. You just wait for it! Is that supposed to be a call for sponsorship considerations? Well, maybe. lol. I’m glad I’m doing this again and I hope this time, I hang around for much longer in this series. I appreciate those of you who have kept faith with this series nonetheless. I wouldn't want to mention names but you guys know yourselves. Thanks a bunch! Meanwhile, have I said ‘Happy New year!’? Yeah, I know it’s belated by miles but then, it sure doesn’t hurt to wish you all a wonderful year and drop a few lines of prayer, as has been my custom for a good while now:

In this year two-thousand-and-eleven
May you on earth experience Heaven
And with this opportunity you’ve been given
May you excel greatly in the land of the living

Amen!

I’m sure at one time or the other, you’ve watched a movie where someone at a point of death gets saved by a sheer act of Providence. Consider a scenario where a man facing a firing squad and already tied to the stakes suddenly gets freed by a superior order from above. Imagine a man dangling from the hangman’s noose suddenly having the rope slashed a few seconds away from losing his last breath. Now, those are miracles and that’s what I could call what happened to me on that fateful night when I had decided to end it all. I had simply decided to take the coward’s way out and quit trying to be a courageous gladiator in the arena.

As I lay down to sleep, I was convinced that I would wake up somewhere other than on this planet. There were two possibilities of destination. The first one that came to mind was Hell. I saw this as a possibility because suicide was supposed to be a sin and hence, taking my own life with poison was an act that would give me an express ticket to Hell fire. On the other hand, I thought Heaven was also a possible destination because in my own opinion, I was sacrificing my own life to ensure that BG and the unborn child were not rejected by my family. This was likely going to happen because of the grief my death would have caused and obviously the child that would be born would have been a form of consolation. I even imagined the child being named Geebee Junior to keep the memory of me alive. However, in the deepest recesses of my heart, I knew I was actually trying to take my own life not because I cared so much about BG and the baby but simply because I couldn’t bear to face the shame I was bound to face as a result of the situation. In one last attempt to ensure I arrived at a most desirable destination – Heaven – I said a word of prayer (of course after I had taken the poison), confessing my sins and committing those I was about to leave behind into God’s hands. In between the prayers, I fell asleep hoping that my last action had somehow bought me a ticket to Heaven.

When I woke up, I was temporarily blinded by a ray of light projecting though the open windows. Gradually, my memory returned and for a second, I believed I was indeed in Heaven and in the presence of God. After all, Hell was a place of darkness and this was clearly something totally different. Almost immediately, my mobile phone rang, jolting me back to reality. I instantly recognized my room and everything in it. I was not dead; I was not in Heaven but I was alive and in the flesh. There was however a throbbing pain in my head that almost made me dizzy. I reached for the phone and the screen revealed that BG was calling. I sighed, wondering what in hell had happened and why I was still alive.
“Hello” I said into the mouthpiece after accepting the call.
“Hi Geebee,” BG said, the tone of her voice still registering frustration and every other bad feeling. “Did you just wake up?”
“Yea – yeah,” I said, stuttering, my glance resting on the clock on my bedside table. It was almost ten o’clock.
“Hmmm, so you mean you could actually sleep through all this. I couldn’t sleep all through the night, you know.”
I felt guilty for a second and wished I could tell her that I should not even be talking to her. I should have died during the night. Again, I wondered why things had not gone the way I had thought.
“Don’t worry. It’s gonna be okay.” I heard myself say. “How are you feeling?”
“Worried!” she said, much to my chagrin. I bit my lip. If things had gone right, my phone should have rung endlessly with my lifeless body unable to receive the call.
“I’ll call you later, okay.” I said, as I ran out of words to say. I decided I had to process what had just happened to me or perhaps what had not happened.

As I hung up, I remained on my bed for a good while. Why was I still alive? I wondered. Was the ‘otapiapia’ not poisonous? I had heard it was lethal when ingested so why had it not worked on me? Had I not taken it? I asked myself, surprised at my own thoughts. I remembered clearly I had swallowed up all the contents. To assure myself, I looked under the bed and the bottle lay there empty. I was not crazy, I decided. I had drunk up the poison but here was I, feeling perfectly okay, except for the headache. Was that supposed to be a symptom that the poison was beginning to take effect or was I just having a stupid hangover from the heavy dose of liquor I had taken the previous night? Was it possible that the booze I had taken had rendered the poison powerless or was the poison was going to work later in the day, perhaps? Should I go get some more of the poison to drink? I cringed at the thought. Somehow I had lost the nerve to try again and in fact I didn’t feel like dying anymore. I broke down and wept profusely. By the end of that day, the poison had still not taken effect and in fact I was sure nothing of such was going to happen. It was clear there was no running away from this. I was going to face the music whether I like it or not. I examined my options. Option 1: Handle it alone and keep my folks out of it for as long as I could. Option 2: Inform my parents of the situation.

I thought about the first option. Could I handle the situation alone? I was barely twenty-two and still in school. My dad paid my school fees and still gave me pocket money. I made some extra bucks from working as a private home tutor and writing for a magazine but there was no way in hell I would be able to take care of BG and the pregnancy on my own? Even if I did, how about when the baby came? Where was she going to live by the way? In my little room, along with me and my two roommates? I would go mad before long, I realized. The second option hardly seemed better. How was I going to break the news to my parents? Mom and Dad had been separated for almost thirteen years and thus, it was impossible to inform them of the situation jointly. Who was I to notify of the situation first? Telling my mom first was going to be difficult. The woman was an epitome of godliness, a minister in church and the situation in itself was a slap on her position. The church would probably sanction her for having a son who had gotten a girl pregnant. I could not imagine the consequences. My dad was a whole different idea. My brothers and I feared the man to no end and in fact had never been close. How then was I supposed to inform him that I had gotten a girl pregnant? He would probably kill me, I decided. I instantly ruled him out of the picture. I decided I would inform my mum and see what happened next. Again, I wondered why I was still alive.

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