THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES

EPISODE 42 – SCALING ANOTHER HURDLE

2011-04-21T11:13:00.000-07:00

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 to Lagos 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 to Lagos as soon as possible to see BG’s family and 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 travelling 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. The 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.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 41 – A BREATH OF FRESH AIR

2011-03-30T08:14:00.000-07:00

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.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 40 – SPILLING THE BEANS

2011-03-02T06:34:00.000-08:00

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 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. GEEBEE’S TRIP 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 (excuse the pun!) 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 out of Lagos to see my mum. Throughout the five-hour journey from Lagos to Ondo State, 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 my body 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 to Lagos 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.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 39 – NO WHERE TO RUN

2011-02-22T05:01:00.000-08:00

The last episode of GEEBEE’S TRIP was posted on this page about four 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 four 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. 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.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

WHEN THE ONE YOU LOVE IS WITH ANOTHER

2010-12-30T06:04:00.000-08:00

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.

EPISODE 38 – WHEN A GLADIATOR SURRENDERS

2010-09-01T17:55:00.000-07:00

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 GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 37 – MEDICAL TRAUMA

2010-08-21T09:50:00.000-07:00

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 had 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 GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 36 – BACK TO SQUARE ONE

2010-08-04T16:59:00.002-07:00

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’ literarily. 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 literarily 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 literarily 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 GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 35 – RESOLUTIONS

2010-07-27T10:36:00.000-07:00

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.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 34 – A SIGH OF RELIEF

2010-07-19T10:36:00.000-07:00

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. GEEBEE’S TRIP 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 o,” 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 UNILAG. 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.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 33 – A TIGHTER KNOT

2010-07-13T03:25:00.000-07:00

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 Republic 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 Republic, 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.”
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 excitedly.
“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.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 32 – QUO VADIS?

2010-06-30T04:07:00.000-07:00

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 GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 31 – JACKPOT!

2010-06-12T11:08:00.000-07:00

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 GEEBEE’S TRIP.

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.

EPISODE 30 – A TIME TO KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!

2010-05-28T09:08:00.001-07:00

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 GEEBEE’S TRIP 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 Geebee’s Trip.

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. I wondered 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. “I actually 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 and I 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 GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 29 – ALMOST DOESN’T COUNT (OR DOES IT?)

2010-05-12T07:59:00.000-07:00

I’d bet you have heard this line a million times or more. In fact, a female RnB act actually did a song on this sometime ago. Was it Brandy or so? Remind me if you know for sure. Now, imagine a scenario where you are a hundred percent sure you’d get something or reach a particular destination and at the last minute or just when you’re so close, something spoils everything and renders all your efforts futile. I wonder what could hurt more.

In light of the above, I’m tempted to excite my football senses and those of similar soccer fans (Eddee, what’s up?) and speak on the English Premiership and how Chelsea FC clinched the crown in style last Sunday. Let’s imagine somehow by a twist of fate they had drawn that last match against Wigan. Manchester United who had been so close on their heels, trailing by a single point for a good while would have easily snatched the title on the very last day of the league courtesy of their win over Stoke City. What would we have said then? “Oh, Chelsea almost got the title” but then, they would have settled for a most undeserving second place and all they would have gotten was the sympathy of their fans but not the much deserved title so I want to believe that truly, ‘almost’ doesn’t count. Meanwhile, Barcelona and Real Madrid are in a very similar situation and let’s see if we would have to say ‘almost’ when the Spanish La Liga ends this weekend. Enough of soccer said.

Now, relate this to a ‘Who wants to be a Millionaire’ scenario where the guy on the hot seat is a question away from ten million naira. Okay, let’s be more realistic, say five million. Say what? Yeah, I know some guy won the whole ten million naira once but trust me, such things happen only once in a lifetime so forget that one. Now, our man is about to answer the 14th question that would fetch him a cool two million and probably take him further closer to the jackpot, and somehow he’s not sure of the question and has previously used all his life lines. However, he decides to take the gamble, perhaps due to greed or the prompting of what he thinks was the Holy Spirit speaking in his mind. He goes for one of the options and Frank Edoho goes like:
“Is that your final answer?” with that stupid smile he usually has on his face.

Our man ponders for a while, bites his fingers a little, runs the same fingers through his greasy hair and bites them again. Disgusting, right? Yeah, I know but trust me, in the ‘Who wants to be a Millionaire’ hot seat you’d probably do something worse like picking your nose and licking up what comes out of it absent-mindedly.
“I think it’s B but my mind tells me it is C” our man says as though Frank would tell him the answer or the answer would come to him by the verbal expression of his thoughts.
“You have no lifelines left” Frank says, “and if you choose the wrong answer you go back to N250,000. You could walk away with two million.”
Our man wants to walk away but cannot resist the urge of trying. Like hell, five million (or ten million for that matter) sounds a whole lot better than two million. Besides, he’s got an inkling; a strong conviction in his spirit that he is going to walk away with ten million that day. Have a little faith, brother, he tells himself.
“I’ll go with C” he says in a defiant voice.
“Final answer?” Frank asks.
“Final answer” our man says, his voice not too convincing.

Frank looks at the man and it’s obvious he admires the man’s courage (or stupidity as the case may be) and smiles again. “Mr. Man,” he begins. “Option D was not the correct answer.” He pauses for effect, and then continues. “If you had chosen Option B, you would have been wrong.” The man heaves a deep sigh of relief and mutters an inaudible ‘Thank you Lord’. The members of the audience shift in their seats nervously as though they would have a share of the man’s eventual winnings.

Frank continues “The answer to the question is . . . We’ll now take a commercial break.” Sounds of “Awww” spread through the seated audience and of course the viewers at home. To cut the long story short, the commercial break ends and the show comes back on air only for Frank Edoho to inform the contestant that the correct answer was Option A and not C, thus sending our man falling from a comfortable N2 million to N250,000. WTF! But he almost won N2 million, at least he had gotten to N2 million and could have walked away. Thus, he almost walked away with N2 million but actually left the stage with N250,000. Almost doesn’t count.

Now, let’s come back to Geebee’s Trip and talk about things that actually happened (with the additions and deductions. lol). By February 2006, BG and I were still involved. I had resolved to push away the idea of finally having sex with BG and taking away her virginity. For crying out loud, the thought of it was beginning to make me cringe. I had never slept with a virgin in my previous twenty years and I had previously heard stories that it was a nasty experience and there was always a lot of pain and bloodshed (Pardon me, bleeding) involved and I was one who really hated inflicting pain or the sight of blood for that matter. However, I was sure BG was bound to give in to me sooner or later. That confidence had been further boosted after she had actually offered ‘it’ to me a few months before. I had declined back then because I realized she wanted to give in to me out of fear of losing me and it made me feel selfish. My maturity actually paid of eventually as she finally decided she was ready by February, not on my prompting but of her own volition. I couldn’t have been happier. But one hurdle remained. I had not ever slept with a virgin and thoughts of stories I had heard on the experience made me wish she could get rid of her virginity some other way and come back to serve me the ‘sweeter experience’.

The D-day finally came and we got booked into a small hotel. I felt my house (father’s house actually) would have been the wrong place to carry out such an act and I wanted all the privacy we could get. Simon’s house was an option but BG refused that option. We had all the preliminaries, talked, laughed but when it came down to the real thing, it turned out to be probably the worst ordeal. You don’t need the details but the truth of the matter was, as much as I tried on that day, I could not get in. I was ALMOST THERE! In reminiscence, I probably should have tried some other way (don’t bother asking, pervert! lol) but then, that’s where experience comes in. She could probably have helped matters but she was by far the most inexperienced in such activities and it further stressed her level of innocence, the one thing that continued to get me frustrated and at the same time attracted to her. In the end, we gave up, our clothes soaking wet from the perspiration our bodies had generated in the process of trying to break a ‘virgin wall’.

I realized I would have no choice but to continue waiting for her to be ‘fully’ ready and in the interim, I had a few flings but never intended for any to be overly serious. It was in the process that I met ST, a girl I still remember with a fondness till date.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 28 – MUCH ADO ABOUT VIRGINITY

2010-05-03T10:19:00.000-07:00

New Followers of this Series could begin at Episode 24 - Recap

The Catholics seem to have an infatuation with the Virgin Mary and I sometimes find myself wondering whom they reverence more – The Son of God himself, Jesus Christ or his mother, the Virgin Mary. Whichever way the answer goes, it is an indisputable fact that the mother of Jesus Christ (often times referred to as ‘Mother of God’) is held in the highest esteem by those who profess the Catholic faith. I have often wondered what made Mary so special. Was it the fact that she conceived our Lord? Possibly. But then, anyone could have been chosen by God to carry His Son and that would have made Mary just like every other woman in the Bible. Then, was Mary special because she believed the Angel Gabriel who brought the news and totally surrendered herself to God’s will? Maybe. But then, any other woman could have believed the Angel and become the mother of our saviour. So what makes Mary indeed special? Have you ever considered that it could be as a result of her virginity as at the time of her conception? Now, I think I’d like to go with that. Our Lord, Jesus Christ was conceived in a fresh womb of a woman who had never had carnal knowledge of a man. Why did God not choose just any woman or some woman with one or two kids to carry His Son? God chose Mary, thereby further stressing the sacredness of virginity.

From time immemorial, there has always been a strong reference attached to virginity and it dates back to Bible times and probably beyond. It was always every man’s desire to marry a young maiden, as virgins were called at the time. In fact, in some portions of the Bible, maidens who had been defiled before marriage were recommended to be put to death. In Africa, traditional sacrifices have been made (and still are) with virgins. I have also heard that in Islam, it is believed that any man who dies in the cause of jihad (Holy War against the infidels) would be rewarded in Al-Jana (Heaven) with seven virgins or something like that. Now that sounds funny, right? How many guys like virgins today? I know I don’t. lol. All these theories go a long way to prove the sacredness of virginity. However, the key point to note here is that the virginity in question has to do with the females and not the males, so I wonder if that implies that young men are free to defile themselves at any point in their lives without necessarily feeling like they have committed an offense deserving of death. Well, I wouldn’t know.

The aforesaid only shows how things should be or had always been. However today, it is a totally different story. The theory of the sacred virgin has been totally displaced like a pack of cards. In fact, it is almost a taboo to still be a virgin at a certain ages thus girls in their late teens or twenties who still find themselves with their virginity intact have come to be ashamed of something they really should be proud of. How hilarious! The Sacredness of Virginity has now become a thing of the past! At least, that is what I discovered a good number of years ago.

I lost my virginity (that’s if guys really could be called virgins) at a rather early stage to a much older girl. I was about fifteen then. Sometimes memories of the experience still make me smile and sigh at the same time. One thing I took from that experience however was the instant surge of desire in me to always want to indulge in sexual activity even though I never had the opportunity to try again for a good while after my first experience. I also began to feel inclined to indulge in a few more vices I probably would never have attempted. Now, I wonder if losing my ‘virginity’ was responsible for opening the doors to vices I began to indulge in. lol. Sometimes I wonder how my life would have been if I had remained sexually inexperienced till date (I heard there are men like that! Wao!). Would I have been a better person? Maybe. The years rolled by and I had relationships, some sexual, some non-sexual and as I grew, my confidence grew and so did the sexual experiences. Fast forward to 2005 and my relationship with BG, my virgin girlfriend.

UJ’s sudden exit from my life had me left with no choice but to return to BG and I was more determined to deal with the virginity thing once and for all. I had read a good number of romance novels and magazines and practically convinced myself that a romantic relationship devoid of sexual activity was stupid and meaningless, a theory I tried ceaselessly to sell to BG. She however seemed resolute on her stand to keep her virginity till her wedding night. I could hardly understand what any nineteen year old girl would still be doing as a virgin when her peers were busy having all the fun in the world. I thought of breaking up with her on many occasions but rescinded on the decision especially because I did not want to repeat what my friend Sam had done. At a point however, I decided to damn my considerations and tell her to either give in to my request or watch me walk away. While I pondered on the thought, BG made the most unexpected request. On that fateful day she told me she was ready.
“Are you serious?” I asked, feeling butterflies in my tummy.
“Yes” she said, smiling.
I was not convinced. “What influenced this decision?” I probed further.
She shrugged and looked away from me. “I guess I love you too much to lose you.”
Those words crushed my heart and I felt like a greedy animal. I realized I would be taking undue advantage of her by allowing her give herself to me before she was ready.
“Geebee, do you see us ever getting married?” she asked suddenly.
I had to think for a good while before answering. She really didn’t seem like my dream girl. I had always envisaged my future wife as a tall (BG was 5’2 while I was 6’1), beautiful (BG was okay but scored 60% as far as beauty was concerned in my books which wasn’t really a bad score but then, you know . . .), academically smart (BG was on the average), heroine in bed (BG was none of that) and above all, a book lover and a writer (BG never gave a hoot about books).
“It’s possible” I heard myself say, “but marriage is the last thing on my mind right now.” I was twenty and believed I still had ten years to go.
We remained silent for a good while until I decided to relieve the tension. “Look, let’s just forget about the sex thing for now, okay” I said, meaning it.
“But you want it” BG said, and I saw the sincerity in her eyes, making me feel all the more guilty.
“Yes but I guess the time’s not right” I said, surprising myself.
We kissed passionately right then and I realized I really did care about this girl. Sex could wait for all I cared at that moment as I convinced myself that we would manage. We did not have to wait for too long. Fast forward to February 2006.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 27 – BLIND DATING

2010-03-31T10:20:00.000-07:00

The concept of ‘blind dating’ remains a most thrilling and interesting phenomenon that millions of people all over the world have engaged in at one time or the other and in fact still continue to practice even today. Imagine the feeling of flirting with someone you have not seen and the seeming endless ordeal of having to imagine the person’s physical appearance as you are only confined to the knowledge of that person’s voice or handwriting depending on your mode of conversation, either via letters or phone calls as the case may be. One thing you cannot take away from the concept of blind dating however is the fact that it is usually so much fun, well at least while it lasts. It somehow gives the partners the opportunity to explore each other’s fantasies under the cover of invisibility and of course there is the mutual respect both partners tend to have for each other in the course of this ‘no-physical-or-visual-contact’ kind of relationship. However, the blind dating idea goes a long way to prove the ‘familiarity breeds contempt’ theory, especially when the ‘blind partners’ happen to meet at last. The success of the ensuing relationship thereafter depends on how they handle the open relationship.

I explored with the idea of blind dating by chance sometime in late 2005. It was through a very popular request show on TV at the time. It was not as though I had any serious intentions but I thought it would be an amusing experience so I sent my details to the specified number requesting for any cute girls within my age grade at the time. I watched on intently waiting for my details to scroll past the T.V screen. A little while after, my details actually appeared on the screen and within seconds, my phone became the hottest line as calls, messages and of course ‘flashes’ kept me as busy as a bee. By the end of the day, I had secured no less than twelve blind dates and I had to begin the long ordeal of scrutiny. At last, I narrowed the list down to about seven girls. I had a pretty interesting relationship with all of them and in fact, I am still in contact with about four of them till date. I ended up meeting three of them and the unfolding experiences proved to me that indeed, a blind date is best kept ‘blind’. Due to time and space, I would share just one experience.

The most serious relationship of all perhaps was with U.J, a cute girl who resided in Surulere. Coincidentally, she shared the same name with a girl I had dated back in JAMB class. At the time, she was nineteen and trying to get into University and over the course of our communication, I learnt we shared a similar taste in writing and some other stuff. Back then, I knew only one or two female folk who were interested in the art and so I was instantly won over by my curiosity. I really wanted to know this girl who had a writer’s dream like me. We became an item almost instantly, having phone conversations and chatting on a most frequent basis. My pocket of course suffered the cost of always having to visit cybercafés to chat online with U.J and always having to keep airtime running on my phone. At a point, I settled on the cheaper option of making long calls to her from call centers. The mobile operators had not thought it wise then to introduce the ‘midnight free calls’ thingy. BG and I were still rolling with the punches of our seemingly frustrating relationship. I believed the root cause of our problems happened to be her decision to hold on tightly to her virginity, thus denying me the most sought pleasure in a romantic relationship. Somehow, at the time, I simply could not understand what any nineteen year old girl would still be keeping her virginity for and in spite of my pleas and persuasions, BG remained resolute on her decision to ‘keep her virginity till her wedding night’ like she always put it then. Oh, how I hated those lines! As such, I was on the constant lookout for a replacement for BG, one I hoped to find in one of my blind dates, especially U.J who seemed to match every quality I desired in a chic. On one of our online chats, she had confirmed to me that she was no longer a virgin. Now, that was good news to my ears. We continued our ‘blind dating’ for almost three months before we decided it was time we saw each other face to face. We agreed that she would come over to my end. I believe I was the happiest twenty-year old alive during this period and I waited impatiently for that day, nearly driving myself nuts as varying forms of imaginations flooded my mind. I wondered about her looks (she had told me she looked quite good), her carriage and of course I had begun to picture in my obscene mind the lovemaking scenes we would probably share.

True, the day finally came and we met. She was indeed the perfect picture I had of her. In fact, she was better than what I expected and I could not thank my lucky stars enough. I decided then that BG could eat her virginity for all I cared! Meeting U.J in the flesh however was not to be the fairy tale I had imagined as things suddenly began to go awry. We spoke on a good lot of stuff ranging from books to movies to stuff we had written and planned to write. She even composed one of my poems into a song! I was sure I had met the perfect woman at last. We hung out together on a few more occasions and at some point, we shared a few kisses and touches. However, something seemed to be different. We simply could not strike the balance we had struck all the while we had maintained a no-visual-contact relationship. I noticed this and desperately hoped she hadn’t as I still believed we could work out. The calls and chats began to thin down and gradually, boredom began to set in. The ice finally broke when she visited me some time later and told me we needed to stop seeing each other as it all seemed like a mistake. She said she wished we had remained friends without meeting each other and I had to agree even though I never told her. It took a little while for me to get over the blow. I called a couple of times but her response was never as cool as it had always been. I dropped offline messages which she never responded to. Before long, all my calls were answered by the mobile operator informing me on the unavailability of the number I was calling. At that point, I knew it was time to hang my gloves, brush the dirt off my shoulders and move on. Fortunately, BG was still around and we continued as usual to ‘roll with the punches’. I maintained contact with a few of my other blind dates but of the few ones I met physically, none appealed to me as U.J had. Perhaps, the incident with U.J had killed the desire to go all the way. I realized I had learnt a good lesson from the experience. Till date, I have not seen or heard from U.J and sometimes I wonder if she was actually real. Perhaps, she was some spirit being sent from beyond this realm to toy with my twenty-year old heart.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 26 – CRASHED MARRIAGES

2010-03-13T11:14:00.000-08:00

I remember some years back while I was in secondary school, during my fourth year I think, a close classmate confided in me that his father was about to take a third wife. He had been so devastated that my consolatory words hardly had any effect on his heavy heart. I recall that in my attempt ease his pain, I told him that he needed to be thankful for the fact that his father was still married to his mum at least. It was then I told him that my parents had been separated for a good while which was true. My folks had been separated since I was nine and at fourteen, I had still been struggling to come to terms with that fact so I constantly prayed that they would one day come back together. Well, it’s been about eleven years now since that day I discussed with my friend and my prayers are still yet to be answered. In fact, I have since stopped praying as far back as I can remember.

The saying goes, ‘when two elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers’. People often relate this saying to parents with issues and how their incessant quarrels tend to have negative effects on their children in the long run. Well, I won’t exactly say I disagree with this opinion but then my brothers and I have somehow managed to survive for almost sixteen years now without our parents living together and come to think of it, I sometimes wonder if things would have been better if the separation had not happened. As at today, I am still not yet convinced and I doubt if I ever will. Funny enough, I think I prefer things this way. Now, I hope someone does not think I’m crazy. Let’s return to GEEBEE’S TRIP.

By November 2005, BG and I had been going out for sometime and I was beginning to accept the fact that I was stuck with this girl. Even though I constantly wished I could revert to my old girlfriend-free self, I had to resign to my fate for two major reasons. One, I liked the girl. Her naivety had a way of holding me spellbound for unexplainable reasons and she definitely made good company. Two, I did not want to repeat what my friend Sam had done. Sam’s way out had been to treat her badly and I had condemned that act to no end, thus, I did not think going in the same direction would be a sensible option. Of course, I kept my tab free and had flings with other girls once a while but I made sure I treated BG in the best way I could and that further endeared her to me.

Back on the homefront, Chief (my dad) and his wife, Cyan were having the most turbulent of times. I had always known they would never last and I have to admit that ever since their marriage in late 2001, I had always prayed secretly that something would make them crash. In truth, Cyan was a nice woman. I had no issues with her. The one person I had issues with was my dad. When he and my mum had separated in 1994, I had been about nine years old and could hardly fathom what had really gone wrong but over the years, I got used to the realization, especially as I approached my late teens. I was not particularly upset with either of them especially for the fact that they both remained single and neither of them appeared to give any special thought to remarrying. Chief, of course had a long list of women all through the years but he never made any moves to make anything formal.

Then, Cyan came along sometime in 2000 and she seemed like a nice person like some of the others before her. I was indeed certain her time would soon pass in Chief’s log book just like those before her. I was to be disappointed. To my surprise, my dad who hardly saw any woman beyond a couple of weeks saw this woman for much longer and by 2001, they practically lived together. The greatest shock was to come by late 2001 when I returned from my mum’s place to find photos adorning the living room walls attesting to the fact that Cyan and my dad had been recently married. I was so bitter especially because Chief had not even thought it fair enough to let any of us, his children know about his decision to remarry and worse still, he had the guts to flaunt the photos in our faces! I hated my dad so much at that moment and of course it was so easy to hate Cyan, his new wife. However, her saving grace proved to be the fact that she was a nice woman and even though I tried to convince myself a good number of times that she was playacting, her sincerity was easy to see. Nonetheless, I was angry that my dad had gone ahead to remarry. It felt like being stabbed in the back.

Cyan was about the same age as my dad but she had never had any children even though she had once been married so naturally, my first prayers were that she never had any kids for my dad. Having a step-mum hurt enough and I was certainly not ready for a step-brother or step-sister to further fuel up my burning anger. I realized my wishes were selfish but I wished she had decided to pitch her tent elsewhere. The first cracks in their marriage began to show up within a few weeks. Chief was the kind of man who was hardly satiable. He was from a totally different world and no one was actually good enough for him. Then, he had his women issues too. Cyan endured for sometime until she could not take more and so quarrels were frequent. In truth, I cherished these moments so much as it continually served as a countdown to their break-up. Somehow, I was sure that would happen sooner or later. I believe Cyan decided to stay a little longer out of her desire and desperation to get pregnant – something that never happened.

During the course of Cyan’s stint as my step-mum, I came to understand that my dad was not the type of man any woman could really live with. There were just too many issues with him. By 2004, things had greatly degenerated between them and I spared myself of having to witness their constant troubles by spending more time outside home with my friends and of course, Madam L. On one Sunday in November 2005, they had a fight and that evening she drove off in her car and that was the last I saw of her. I learnt she later came with a relocation-truck to move her stuff. Their marriage was over! I was the happiest twenty-year old on earth that day as I called my brothers to break the news.

One thing however bothered me as I watched my dad’s second marriage crash. I was scared of living this same life and as such, I knew I had to be extremely careful of the choices I made in relationships. I swore never to have a broken home and I decided to do all in my power to ensure that this never happened to me. Again, I began to wonder if I had really made the right choice by dating BG. I realized time alone would tell.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 25 - COLD FEET

2010-02-21T09:58:00.000-08:00

Picture this: You meet this gorgeous looking babe and the strong chemistry between you guys set things in motion pretty faster than you can imagine and before you could spell the words R-E-L-A-T-I-O-N-S-H-I-P, you begin dating and everything feels so smooth that using phrases like 'made for each other' would sound like an understatement in describing this magical thing you share with this wonderful woman. Then, it gets to a point where all that's left is the 'M' word and all of a sudden, you feel like 'Wao, I'm not sure I'm ready for this!' This is a most usual occurrence especially with the guys and I believe it's a most natural feeling. It's called 'cold feet'. Sometimes, I wonder what the 'feet' has got to do with all this but let's make do with the definition that has been handed down to us. Recently (precisely on 13th February), my elder brother, BD got married to a wonderful and
beautiful lady and I'm so happy for him.

Now, even if he wouldn't say, I want to believe he had his own share of the 'cold feet' thingy. Meanwhile, yours sincerely happened to be the 'best man' and my debut as a 'best man was fantastic. In fact, I found myself forgetting my role a coupla times and thinking I was the groom. lol.

Now, what's the point of this talk about 'cold feet', you'll probably wonder. Again, after much brainstorming, I am convinced it's not only about-to-wed folks that experience this strange phenomenon. It could easily happen to a guy (or girl) who goes into an unplanned or hasty relationship without taking time to make sure it's the right thing to do. Sometimes, it might even be the right thing to do but then, the greed factor could make one begin to regret going into a relationship even before you've settled into it. For example, imagine a guy and a girl officially begin dating on Monday and by Wednesday, he (or she) comes across this heaven-sent girl (or guy) who appears to have all the qualities he (or she) had always dreamed of finding in a partner; qualities which the current partner unfortunately doesn't possess in totality. Now, wouldn't those be grounds for regret and cold feet? Your guess is as good as mine, affirmative or negative as the argument could be won on both sides but let's save that for some other day or preferably, if you want to comment on that, feel free to drop your comment(s).

I believe it is easier to maintain a friendship with the opposite sex without any romantic strings attached than when you involve those strings. Somehow, it just seems to change everything. I still wonder why it’s that way but that’s just the way it is, probably from time immemorial. Remember Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. They had been naked all along and having fun playing with the animals and eating fruits and stuff but when their eyes were opened, what happened? They knew they were naked and hid themselves. I bet that was the origin of the concept of shyness. Now, it’s easy to compare that the period of friendship with the opposite sex with the period before Adam and Eve took the forbidden fruit and compare the involvement of romance between two friends of opposite sex with the period after they ate the forbidden fruit. You could liken the forbidden fruit they ate to the ‘kissing’, ‘smooches’ or even ‘sex’ that usually mark the dawn of romantic relationships in our world today. Once you cross that line, things just stop being the same. Thus, I recommend ‘attraction from a distance’ sometimes. It solves a lot of mysterious post-dating problems.

BG and I began dating officially in a most unexpected manner. Now, that's what a kiss could do to you. While I totally disagree, some folks believe and constantly affirm that the acceptable manner to begin a romantic relationship is by asking a girl out and playing out a scenario like this:

Guy: Baby, I like you very much. In fact, I think I'm falling in love with you.
Girl: (Rolling her eyes) Really? Are you serious?
Guy: (In a most sonorous voice) With all my heart, babe.
Girl: (Shrugging but in her heart, as happy as can be) So what are you trying to say?
Guy: I want you to be my girl.
Girl: (Appears to think for sometime but her heart's really screaming 'YES') I would have to think about it for sometime.
Guy: (Sighs frustratingly) Okay then dear. Take your time but don't keep me waiting for too long. You're like the air I need to breathe . . . .

and bla bla and all that usual jazz people tend to exchange in the course of ‘pre-dating’. Soon, they begin to date and it either leads to marriage after God-knows-how-long or a break-up, which unfortunately happens in the most usual cases.

Anyways, that's the usual scenario but BG and I did not happen like that. Of course the attraction was there, silent as it seemed but all it took to evoke a romantic relationship was a 'kiss'. Read the last paragraph of Episode 23 for better understanding. At the time, I did not want to accept that I was officially involved with BG. I liked her very much but it was obvious she did like me more. I realized I could never keep the 'kissing incident' to myself and I had to tell Simon, my friend. We had practically become room mates by then as I spent more time at his place and confined my presence at home to weekends only. Simon obviously had his reservations and expressed them lightly. I decided to go ahead and let Sam know of the situation because I really would not have wanted him to realize I was dating his girl (ex) behind his back. I wondered if I was supposed to request for his permission to date BG and instantly decided otherwise. It would have been a most stupid action so I took the plunge and told him in a most casual way that BG and I were involved but not seriously. He said he wasn’t dating her and she was a free bird. I decided to save my face and told him I had no such plans initially (which was really true). Sam simply smiled and told me he was cool. In fact, he re-emphasized that he never liked BG from the start. That sounded like the perfect go-ahead signal.

However, I still had problems in really going ahead with BG in a serious relationship. No sooner had we kissed than I began to wish we could rewind time and remain the way we were. Things just stopped being the same, especially whenever I had a reason to think that the world would believe I snatched my friend's girlfriend, a question I continually argued within my heart on many occasions then. I decided to keep things plain and tell myself and everyone else who cared to ask that BG and I were just friends. What made it much easier to convince myself that ours wasn’t a serious relationship was the fact that we weren’t sleeping together. Our romance was restricted to kisses and touches as she had previously told me that she was a virgin and I was not at all ready to break her barriers. BG on the other hand did not see things the way I did. I had become her knight in shining armour and she was ready to flaunt me to any length. Within a few weeks, her presence in my class was regular, a situation I detested to no end.
“Hey Geebee,” she would say, smiling as she approached my seat.
“Hey, how are you doing?” I would respond.
“I’m alright. Just thought I’d check on you” she’d say.
I would sigh and stare around uncomfortably wondering if any girls in my class were taking notice of her and how she could spoil my chances with them.
“A-actually, I’ll be having lectures soon.” I’d tell her.
“No qualms, I would leave once your lecturer arrives.”
It was a most common practice and usually, she had her way, especially because I did not want her to think I intended to get rid of her which was my real intention. Before long and I began to regret getting involved with her. Within a few weeks, I realized I preferred being friends than being romantically involved. My feet had indeed become freezing cold.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 24 – A RECAP

2010-01-31T09:38:00.000-08:00

Recently, I’ve become a fan of Sugarking’s blog and I can’t help wondering where on earth that guy is from. His posts mostly border on his escapades as a young Nigerian guy living overseas and his interminable relations with women of all sorts in JD. Now, lewd and controversial as the posts on his blog tend to be, they have a way of holding me spell bound with laughter and the many readers of this blog would definitely agree with me on this. While I do not intend to focus on Sugarking in this post, I intend to draw a point on how blogging allows you express yourself in any way you desire, especially in ways you never could have done through other means. In fact, I could bet a toe that a good number of bloggers write stuff on their spaces that they wouldn’t dare write anywhere else in order to avoid controversy.

When I began blogging sometime in 2008, I sought an avenue where I could just express myself and write on just anything like I had been doing on my previous webpage (To my surprise, it still exists but I haven’t been doing anything on it for a good while). Coupled with my dreams to write some fiction novels and poetry, the idea of an autobiography had always been on my mind for a long while and I thought: Instead of waiting till God-knows-when to begin writing my story, why don’t I start it on my blog? And that was how GEEBEE’S TRIP came about. I decided to do an autobiography of my life beginning with my eighteenth birthday in series format. While the series is mostly based on true events, there are a lot of additions and deductions from the true story and of course, all the names have been changed. Due to my inconsistencies among other factors, we’ve only been able to do twenty three episodes so far and I can’t appreciate my followers and readers (those who began the journey with me, those who hung on for a while and those who are still hanging on among others) enough for being there all this while. This post is actually meant to be a recap of all the episodes of GEEBEE’S TRIP for the benefit of those who have not been able to read through all the previous episodes and to allow for easy understanding and followership in future. Come to think of it, twenty three episodes are not that small after all and I can imagine the stress of having to read through the entire episodes one after the other. Meanwhile, there’s a link to the right of this page that highlights all the episodes till date. That said, here’s a summary of all the previous episodes of GEEBEE’S TRIP for y’all in one post.

The series is dated back to July 2003 when Geebee turns eighteen and finds himself still struggling to get into University having been stuck at home for about two years already with his dad and a nice step-mum. He feels caged by his dad, a man who practically refuses to allow him travel to spend some time with his mum. Geebee feels cheated especially because his two brothers, BD and Sean hardly face the same situation as BD is far away in University and Sean who just left secondary school enjoys his time with their mum. The fact that his dad (Chief) also has personality issues of his own make it difficult for Geebee to feel comfortable being in the same vicinity. Thus, he constantly longs for his freedom which he assumes would only come about once he makes it into University. He thus passes the time engaging in youthful exuberances of all sorts having teenage affairs with girls in a JAMB coaching center and taking on other vices like smoking and drinking among others. Finally, on his dad’s prompting, he resorts to opt for a part-time University programme at a location close to his home. Left without much of a choice due to his haste to get into University as soon as possible, he grabs the opportunity. By January 2004, Geebee finds himself in a University system meant for adults and has to endure the pain of receiving lectures with much older people. However, there are some of the younger age grade people in the system as well and he bands himself with many and together, they try to create a more youthful University environment, and to a great extent they succeed.

Being in University proves to be the perfect escape route and soon, Geebee hardly feels different from his counterparts in a full-time University system. The only drawback stems from the fact that the part-time system confines lectures to evening periods only, thus granting a good dose of boredom in the daytime during which he finds himself stuck at home attending to one domestic need or the other. Thus, his only release becomes the period spent at school in the evenings. He begins to excel academically and command some level of attention from his peers, the young and old alike. He however prefers to deal at best with the slightly older ladies who fall just a little above his age grade. Meanwhile, on the home front, his dad and step mum continue to have ceaseless problems and an impending break up seems inevitable. He soon finds solace in company of colleagues in his age grade like Simon and Sam. Simon happens to be the first friend he meets in University and he finds out that they are perfect contrasts to each other with Simon being more on the introverted side and still a virgin at nineteen much to Geebee’s chagrin. In the end, believing he’s acting to his friend’s benefit, Geebee tries hard to initiate him into one or two vices. Sam on the other hand is the outgoing and boastful type who is more than willing to engage in youthful vices of all types and he and Geebee tend to fit into each other’s ways much better.

Geebee is not spared the attention of a few of the more mature women in the part time University system and it is in the course of this that he meets Lovina, a much more older woman who happens to be married with five children. Their relationship is originally planned to be purely academic where he is expected to assist her with extra lectures on difficult courses but in the process they begin to share so much stories together that an affair begins. The affair runs on for a good while and Lovina proves to be the perfect ‘sugar mummy’ providing for all his financial, emotional and sexual needs to the extent that he dares to defy his ‘Almighty dad’ and begins to sleep out once a while in the pretense that he was at Simon’s place. As much as they try to keep the affair secret, things begin to get out of hand due to Lovina (Madam L)’s constant nagging and inability to keep matters simple. Soon, Geebee realizes he is in trap and the guilt of sleeping with a much older woman who happens to be married nearly drives him insane. Eventually, he is able to escape from Lovina’s clutches and get his life back in order but not for too long. He gets a few jobs in between the period to ease the boredom of being at home during the daytime and further take his mind off his travails. The experiences at those jobs equally add to the troubles and joys among other things.

Time flies in its usual form and soon, the first school year is over. Geebee and his colleagues find themselves in the second year in University and it feels pretty good to know that more fresh students would be coming in to join them. He makes up his mind to focus on his academics and for once shun all sort of past bad behaviour he had initially engaged in, especially after the close shave with Madam L, whom he still secretly dreads and desperately avoids. He soon meets BG, Sam’s girlfriend who gets admitted into her first year in the University and over time, he is disappointed to find out that Sam hardly cares about his supposed girlfriend, often ignoring her and treating her as a non existent being especially in presence of his friends. In actual fact, Sam feels BG is a distraction and would likely serve as a clog in his quest for other ‘fresher chics’ on campus. BG however appears to be undeterred or hardly even notices Sam’s annoying attitude towards her. However, Geebee begins to feel uncomfortable about his friend’s behaviour and advices him to either break up with BG or stop treating her badly. Sam drags his feet for a good while but eventually summons up the courage to break up with BG, much to the latter’s disappointment.

Geebee soon regrets his action on convincing Sam to break up with BG after watching BG closely enough to realize that she was indeed hurt and he tries to cover up for this by confessing to her what he did and explaining the reason for his action. BG is shocked to find out that Sam had not broken with her because he wanted to but because his friend had convinced him to but still she can’t help agreeing with Geebee that it was the right thing to do especially since she knew he had been treating her badly all along but simply ignored the reality of the situation owing to the fact that she really cared about him. He was her first boyfriend and she had not wanted to lose him. Geebee and BG begin to get pretty close and in between he realizes that he might have made an enemy of Sam by convincing him to break up with his girlfriend only to begin running all over town with her. He attempts to address this issue by reuniting Sam and BG as friends again. In spite of BG’s initial aversion and stubbornness, she and Sam mend fences and begin to talk again, albeit as friends and nothing more. Finally, Geebee finds the much sought peace in the knowledge that he had done the right thing in asking Sam to break up with BG and the fact that they were not enemies anymore had an added good effect.

He begins to hang out much more frequently with BG, however without any romantic strings attached due to the fact that he did not want to get romantically involved again for a good while as he still feels haunted by his affair with Madam L. He also still nurses a feeling that Sam has a grudge against him for asking him to dump his girl only for him to jump into the picture and he tries to avoid BG without much success. BG continues to keep close and the walls around his heart finally crumble. The ice is finally broken when they share their first kiss in a most unexpected manner.

So that's a full recap for you guys. Let's call it 'starting all over again' with GEEBEE'S TRIP. I hope to be much more regular with the episodes from henceforth, say with like three or four episodes per month, So help me God. . . at least, I was able to do at least two posts in January like I promised. I guess that's a mark of progress, right? lol. So, January's over now and I wish you all a wonderful February.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE'S TRIP

EPISODE 23- BREAKING THE ICE

2010-01-20T12:52:00.000-08:00

Hello people. Hope you guys are good? I am, and I feel especially cool to be dropping my first post of the year. So I guess it’s okay to say ‘Happy New Year’ and still say and do all those stuff one is expected to in the course of dropping a first post. Yeah, I know it took a while but then y’all know how it is with dropping posts on a constant basis these days. For me, it’s been one ordeal I can hardly fathom. I promised myself this year would be different and so far, I don’t think I’ve failed just yet. For crying out loud, the year’s just begun so don’t be too hasty to judge me now. lol. By my standards, if I could do two or three posts in a month, then that’s a pass mark. I hope y’all can bear with me on that now. So here’s to a repentant blogger hoping to amend his ways in a new year. Thank you! Before I go further, I’d like to do my yearly New Year prayer /rhyme. I did it already on my facebook page and forwarded it to numerous contacts on New Year’s Day via emails, text messages and what have you but it wouldn’t feel complete without doing the same right here on this spot. I’ve been doing it for like seven years now. In fact, I dropped something here at the beginning of 2009 and 2010 should be no exception. Here’s a prayer for y’all from Geebee:

In this year two thousand and ten
May your success astonish all men
May you never fall into the lion’s den
And may you at the Lord’s feet forever learn.
Amen!

Now, that’s the prayer. Hope y’all said ‘Amen’ to that. It works anyway. So, there’s an official ‘Happy New Year’ greeting to you all. The year’s begun on a rather fast-and-funny pace and it’s so hard to imagine that twenty days have gone by already. I feel kind of amused with the manner the year began especially considering our part of the world – The Mutallab issue, the absentee-and-yet-unwilling-to-resign-President, the cowardly senate and Federal executive council etc etc and recently, the Haitian earthquake. My heart goes out to those folks at Haiti and while I’ve got neither silver nor gold, I pray God takes control in his own way. That said, let’s go straight to Episode 23 of Geebee’s Trip.

When I decided to act as an umpire between the two boxers in my head, Geebaba and Geebizles, I already knew who was going to win the battle in my heart just like I’m damn sure most of my readers who read the last episode also knew. Like I noted earlier, Geebaba preferred to do the ‘seemingly sensible’ thing by not getting an inch closer to this cute little chic whereas Geebizzles wanted a little more chance to ‘know’ her. Of course, Geebizles proved stronger and totally knocked Geebaba out of the picture and within a short while, BG and I were talking on phone almost on a daily basis. I felt this was not right especially considering the fact that she used to be Sam’s girl and in fact, I was very instrumental to their break-up but still, I managed to convince myself again and again that I wasn’t doing anything wrong. At that time, I still did not harbour any conscious romantic feelings for her. I really enjoyed her company and that was it. She was fun to be with and her naivety made me feel like a big brother – a feeling that felt pretty good. However, I soon noticed that BG seized every little opportunity to make sarcastic comments about Sam. Comments like “You are so much more mature than Sam”, “How come you even hang out with that guy?” etc, became pretty rampant and again, I felt a stab in my heart simply by recalling that I made her hate this guy that much. I instantly decided to try and fix them back together – not as lovers – but at least, as friends.
“You guys don’t have to be enemies” I said to her on a few occasions. “The fact that you are no more involved doesn’t mean you can’t say hello once a while.”
“God forbid!” BG had retorted. “We can never be friends.”
I knew it was the pain of being jilted that made her act that way but still, I knew that if ever BG and I were to remain friends or on cordial terms then I had to find a way to at least kill any bitterness existing between her and Sam. I tried to the best of my ability and to an extent I succeeded. They began to speak again but of course the tension was still in the air. It was expected but what mattered to me at that time was that they were no longer at each other’s throats – at least, BG stopped speaking so badly about him.

Much as I believed BG and I would never go beyond being casual friends, I was scared of getting romantically involved with her but we began to hang out so frequently that I soon realized all I needed to do if I wanted this girl was say the word. It was obvious she liked me and of course I liked her as well but I did not want to get entangled in a romance – not at that time – especially since I was still smarting from the end of my affair with Madam L. A relationship barely a few months after that ordeal would never have been a good option and I tried to keep it that way. Within a short while, I learnt so much about BG. She was practically raised by her sisters as her mum had died while she was in infancy and her dad was quite aged besides other minor family issues. We talked sometimes about past relationships and I was surprised again to learn that she had never had any other relationship besides Sam. On the other hand, I had a string of them (not too many though but enough for a nineteen year old at that time) and I made it clear often that I did not even want to get involved for a good while, an opinion she totally agreed with. I still don’t know if it was a sincere expression on her part and I never ever bothered to ask about that.

I was especially scared to go out with her because of her kind. I felt she was far too innocent for someone like me at that time. I was quite young but I had done so many things that made me blush just thinking about them. She was simply too good for me, I concluded. The problem however was BG soon got so used to hanging out with me. All the while, we kept our relationship casual and confined to a few drinks after classes, sometimes with Sam and Simon among my other friends. I actually made sure my friends came along sometimes just to prove – to Sam especially – that there was nothing special going on between BG and I. This was actually as a result of the guilt I had begun to feel. Sam never showed any offence of any sort but sometimes, I had a funny feeling that probably he was mad at me for pushing him out only to take his place. However, I constantly assured myself that I had done nothing wrong; instead I had spared him the stress of getting a girl he never really cared about off his back. It was a most confusing situation and before long, I no longer felt comfortable around Sam. Once again, I began to feel like a traitor even though I convinced myself time and time again that I wasn’t one.

If ever I had any plans to push BG off, I was instantly spared on one fateful evening when she did the most unthinkable. As usual, we had hung out after lectures and talked much longer about the usual things we talked about – school stuff, hot students and funny looking lecturers among other stuff. Soon, it was time to leave but to my surprise, BG was acting so funny and reluctant to leave. By then, it was already past ten p.m and she had told me enough about her sisters for me to know that it was best she got going before all hell was let loose at her house.
“What’s up? Do you know what time it is?” I asked concernedly.
“I don’t feel like leaving you” she said seriously.
I laughed. I was already used to such jokes from her but then I always handled them pretty maturedly. I also teased her the same way sometimes.
“Look, BG. I don’t want any wahala from your sisters. Let me escort you a little further so I could get going myself.”
“Can we just talk a little longer?” she asked in a voice that would have made it impossible to say ‘no’ to her request.
I sighed impatiently and I could feel my heart beginning to race. Things were not going normally right now. She got up and took my hand. I followed her and together we strolled a little distance further to some abandoned vehicles.
“I know this sounds crazy, Geebee” she said, her voice shaking. “I want you to kiss me. That’s all.”
I was taken by surprise and for a second, I wondered if she was drunk. She never took alcohol so that was an impossibility but her courage at that moment surprised me greatly. I pulled her to myself and planted my lips on hers. She took it hungrily. She wasn’t the best kisser but the kiss we shared was something special – something I knew I wouldn’t forget in a hurry. At that moment, I knew BG and I were officially romantically involved.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP

EPISODE 22- THE LAW OF ATTRACTION

2009-12-31T10:54:00.000-08:00

Hey folks, what’s good? Before I lose the chance, let me scream ‘Compliments of the season’, ‘Merry Christmas in Arrears’ and ‘Happy New year in Advance’. It feels pretty good dropping this post for no other reason but the fact that I got the chance to do one more post before the year 2009 was over. I remember my last post in 2008 where I did reminiscence on the year and the good and bad moments that characterized 2008. Then, I did a first post in 2009 titled, 2009: What does the New Year hold? At that time, I was so full of determination and endless resolutions on what I was going to do and not do in 2009. Today, it feels like I wrote that post just yesterday. Did I actually fulfill all my ambitions for 2009? I’d have to be very honest here and tell you guys, ‘NO’. I did not meet all my aspirations for 2009, but then who really did? If you did, let me know and I’ll be glad to clap for you and tell you I’d love to be like you when I grow up. lol. Now, what have we here? The golden year 2010 and yes are there any fresh resolutions? Oh yes, there are and there are lots of them too. I won’t make the mistake of listing them just so I don’t feel bad if I fail to achieve all I plan to by this time next year but then, I guess it’s just okay to hope for the best and pray 2010 is the best year I ever had (I think I said something like that earlier this year. Don’t ask me if it came true. lol). While we watch the last hours of the year wind up, let’s bear in mind that it’s by the Lord’s grace we are where we are today. So many better, more brilliant, smarter, finer and . . . (you name it) people have gone and yet we are still here. It takes the Lord’s unending favour and I don’t think we could be grateful enough. Thank you Lord! Still in the spirit of festivity, I’d like to do Episode 22 of Geebee’s trip and the title sounds very familiar to me. I don’t know if it’s the tiltle of a book or movie I’ve seen before but then, there’s definitely a law called the ‘The Law of Attraction’. While I don’t know what it states, I’d want to relate it to the case of Geebee and BG as we continue from the last episode.

I watched BG and wondered if she was actually going to slap me or hit me or curse me in the name of every god she knew for daring to make her boyfriend dump her for no reason at all. Actually, at that moment, I had begun to regret confessing to her what I had done.
“Are you serious?” she asked, her countenance showing surprise and pain. I assumed she had probably thought Sam had broken up with her for some other reason other than the fact that his stupid friend had advised him to do it.
I managed to look into her eyes. “Yes” I said.
The surprised look on her face was unwavering. “Why? What did I do? Why did you ask him to break up with me?” she asked, obviously more irritated by her realization of my betrayal. I wondered if this was the same girl that had told me minutes ago that she actually wanted to break up with Sam as well and that she wasn’t at all bothered by his decision to break up with her. She did not seem like the same person. The girl I saw now was not the trying-to-be-strong girl I had seen minutes before. This was an angry and broken girl who was obviously shocked that a guy she least expected had been instrumental to her painful experience. I decided to bail myself out quickly before things got out of hand.
“I’m sorry if you feel offended,” I said “but I felt Sam was not treating you right and I told him to either start treating you better or break up with you.”
“Was it any of your business?” she lashed out and hit me squarely across the jaw. I could taste blood in my mouth instantly and I wondered how many teeth had broken ………………….. TAKE THAT BACK. LOL. She didn’t do anything like that. Instead, she was silent for a few seconds as she pondered on her next line of words. I decided to seize the advantage of silence to punctuate my rationalization.
“I believe if a guy doesn’t care about a girl, he should at least have the decency to let her know it and let her find someone else. Treating her bad would not only make him look bad. It would also kill the girl’s emotions and morale about guys.”
I was pretty sure I was making sense to her. I paused and waited for her to respond.
“I don’t know what to say” she said after a long sigh. “Sam is just a bastard.”
“Hey, you don’t have to say that” I said quickly in defense of my friend. “It’s not a crime not to love someone. That’s why we all have choices. He probably liked you in the past but overtime, feelings could fade and the best way to address such issues is by going separate ways. I would have done the same thing if I were in Sam’s shoes.”
“You mean you would have treated your girl like shit as well?” she queried.
“No, no, not that” I defended. “I mean I would have broken up with her if I felt we weren’t connecting anymore.”
“You wouldn’t even care if she still loves you?” she probed further.
“Of course I will, and that’s why I would try my best to treat her the best way I can and if that still doesn’t work, I’ll politely let her know how I feel and why we need to part.”
She nodded her head in agreement. “You’re right, you know.”
I nodded too. “I know.”

We spoke about a lot of things and by the time we got to our bus terminal, we were not done. She pleaded with me to walk with her a little further after we alighted and I agreed. In fact, I was beginning to enjoy the discussion so much that I would have been unhappy if she hadn’t suggested that. We chilled at a bar nearby and I listened to her as she explained how she had met Sam and how they had began as early teenage friends. As I listened, it dawned on me that what they had all the while was more of the ‘puppy love’ thing and not a relationship in the real sense of it. Sam had obviously realized this faster, especially after getting into University and decided to bail out by his unseemly actions towards her which had finally culminated in his breaking up with her, even though it was by my prodding. On the other hand, BG, the naïve girl that she was had not realized this and continued to live in the fantasy that she had someone she was in love with, in the person of Sam. I also had cause to find out that Sam had done a lot of exaggeration or at least, BG never corroborated the impression Sam had given us about his relationship with her. I began to wonder if this girl sitting in front of me was pretending and just playing an act but it hardly seemed so. Sam had affirmed that they had done so many nasty things together but as we spoke, she hardly seemed the type. I decided to be a little jumpy and I asked her a funny question.
“Hope you wouldn’t be pissed if I ask you this question?” I said.
She looked at me and smiled knowingly. “I know what you want to ask me”
I was a little surprised as I wondered what on earth she thought I had in mind. “You do?”
“Yes” she said, the smile still playing on her lips. “Am I virgin?”
I almost spilled my drink. That had been exactly what I had in mind. “Wao! That’s smart” I said, feeling a little shy in front of this girl. “So, are you?” I finally asked.
“Yes. Sam and I only kissed a few times and that’s it.”
It sounded unbelievable and I felt tempted to find out if indeed she was telling the truth. I had not seen many eighteen year old female virgins and I really doubted if she was telling the truth but I decided not to probe further. By the time we parted ways that night; I began to see BG in a new light. I could still see the naïve girl I could not imagine myself going out with but still, there was something about her that began to attract me to her. I knew it was a most foolish thing to do, especially since I had practically influenced my friend in his decision to break up with her and I decided I would not act that foolish. The battle however was no longer in my hands. There were two separate parts of me with separate minds of their own - Geebaba and Geebizzles - in a boxing ring and while Geebaba preferred to do the ‘seemingly sensible’ thing and leave the naïve little thing, Geebizzles wanted a little more chance to ‘know’ this naïve little thing. I decided to allow the two boxers battle it out while I watched from the stands or preferably coordinate the fight as an umpire.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP
HAPPY NEW YEAR! WISHING YOU ALL A BLISSFUL AND WONDERFUL 2010.

EPISODE 21 – THE CRIME CALLED ‘GIRLFRIEND SNATCHING’

2009-12-14T03:53:00.000-08:00

Hello Blogville! It’s been another loooooong while. Somehow, it’s been so difficult lately to keep up with life as a blogger and for this reason, I cannot help but salute the courage of blogville’s finest and most dedicated bloggers who have been able to keep up the tradition of dropping posts consistently over the years (or months as the case may be). When I think of bloggers like Solomonsydelle, Writefreak, Original Mgbeke, Rita, Bumight (she’s been a runaway sometimes though), Nice Anon and recently, Myne Whitman, Dufalicious, Enkay and so many other wonderful bloggers I cannot being to mention now for the sake of time and space, I can’t help but wonder how they have been able to keep up that blogging culture. Or is it that they have three heads or something? Well, I choose to attribute my disappearance from the scene to a loss of my ‘mojo’ or as Spesh called it ‘writer’s block’. Whatever reasons they were, it feels good to be back and I am seriously hoping I could do at least three or four more consistent posts before I disappear again. Anyways, I have begun making my New Year resolutions for 2010 and one of the major ones is ‘to become a faithful and devoted blogger’ like I used to be less than a year ago. So help me God! Did I hear someone say ‘Amen’ to that? Same to you.

GEEBEE’S TRIP continues with Episode 21 and the title of this episode might sound a little striking and probably mind-boggling. If I may ask this question; how would you feel as a guy if you saw your girl with some other guy? Now, that’s not just the case, else there’d have been no reason to give a shit (well, some would anyway).
The scenario here gets a little tougher. Imagine you have a friend who convinced you to break up your girlfriend and you actually go ahead and ‘dump’ the babe and before you spell the words B R E A K U P, you see this guy and your now ‘ex’ girl cruising all over town. I bet most guys would try to kill that guy or at least call him a ‘backstabber’ to his face or behind his back. That was the exact situation I found myself in May 2005. Now, for those who have not been following GEEBEE’S TRIP, let’s do a little quiz:

Who among the following people represents me?
A. The Boyfriend
B. The ‘Backstabber’
C. The Girlfriend.

Send your answers (A, B or C) to 1807 before 12 midnight on December 15 and stand a chance of winning a trip into the New Year 2010. SMS charged at normal rates. All mobile networks are eligible; national and global.

Now, that was a foolish joke but come to think of it, some ‘wise’ folks would actually choose option C. Without wasting any more time (a welcome back post really shouldn’t be that long after all. Let’s hope this one’s not an exception), I’ll tell you all that the answer to the question is B. I guess I should let that sink in for a while . . . . . . . . Yes, B for Backstabber. I was indeed the backstabbing guy in question but before y’all begin to crucify me, I suggest you go through the previous episodes so you’ll understand better. This is not an attempt to exonerate myself from any crime (that’s if I indeed committed any crime) especially since on no grounds should any right thinking guy convince his friend to dump a girl because he intends to go out with her.

Well, after sometime, I was able to convince Sam to break up with BG. At that time, it seemed the most reasonable thing to do. It was more than obvious he was not at all interested in her and unfortunately she could not or chose not to smell the brewing coffee. On that fateful day, Sam and I had just finished lectures and were about leaving the school premises when we sighted BG coming towards us.
“Geebee, could you excuse me for a sec?” Sam said in a half whisper.
“No qualms” I said and walked on, wondering what he was up to. At that point, I had already begun to feel he would never come around to actually breaking up with her and in fact, I also decided I might have been sounding too keen on seeing him break up with her, which was never really my intention. I only felt he needed to break up with her so he could stop treating her as badly as he had been doing all the while.

Sam joined me about five minutes later. I had watched curiously from where I stood a little distance away as he conversed with BG. Their talk had been very brief, with my friend seeming to do most of the talking. As I watched him leave her, I immediately knew the conversation had not been a friendly one especially judging by the way she stood on the same spot as he walked away from her. A deep pang of guilt ran through me in that instant.
“Geebee, let’s go.” Sam said as he approached me.
I looked inquisitively at him as we walked on. We walked in silence towards the school bus stop for a while but my curiosity got the better of me.
“So what’s up?” I asked. “Wetin una dey talk?”
“I broke up with her” Sam said matter-of-factly.
That had been my suspicion already but at that moment, his confession hit me hard. I could not say a word for a few seconds. I knew I had convinced him to break up with her but I could not understand why I felt so guilty. I believed he had done the right thing but for a minute, I wished he had carried out his action without my influence.
“Do you feel bad about it?” I asked concernedly, in an attempt to ease my guilt.
“No. Why?” he said confidently. “I’m glad I finally got her off my back in fact. At least, I won’t have to worry about her pestering anymore”
“What did she say when you told her?” I asked.
He gave a sarcastic laugh as he spoke. “Can you imagine? She said she wanted to tell me the same thing too.”
I wondered if she actually told him that just to make him feel bad or if she really meant it but I had the feeling that she would never have wanted to end her relationship with him. I observed his countenance to see if he had any bad feelings about his actions. He looked okay and that sort of made me feel better. However, I still had the sad feeling beclouding me especially when I imagined how BG would be feeling at that moment. Minutes later we parted ways as he headed for his home. I found an excuse to wait at the bus stop. I was sure BG would come pretty soon. I felt I had to see her and make sure she was okay at least for that period. Sam’s bus had hardly left when I saw her approaching. My heart went out to her; however I was impressed by her calm mien. She did not at all look like someone who had just been dumped by a boyfriend.
“Hey Geebee, what’s up?” she said delightedly as she sighted me.
“I’m good,” I said. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay. Where’s your friend?” she asked further.
I wondered if she wouldn’t suddenly burst into tears and the pang of guilt hit me again. I began to regret ever interfering in her relationship with my friend or encouraging him to break up with her. After all, she had never complained all the while about how he treated her. However, the deed had been done and I wished I could turn back the hands of time and simply mind my business.
“He took the first bus,” I said. “I’m waiting for the next one.”

A couple of minutes later, we sat in a bus on the way to our respective homes. For a while, we were both silent. I stared out through the window wondering what could be going on in her mind. I guess she felt she needed to talk to somebody about what had happened but she totally caught me off guard with the manner she came out.
“Geebee, do you know Sam and I have broken up?” she asked suddenly.
I stuttered for a second. “Really? Wao! He didn’t tell me that” I lied.
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. We weren’t really going out anyway” she said. Beneath those words, I could feel her pain. She was young and naïve and she truly cared about my friend. I realized I had pushed Sam into making a mistake.
“I’m sorry about that” I said.
She waved me off. “It doesn’t matter” she said again.
We sat in silence again but at a point I felt I was going to explode if I did not say what I had to say. I decided to take the plunge.
“BG” I began. “Hope you won’t be mad at me?”
She obviously did not understand me. “Why?”
I sighed. “I asked Sam to break up with you.”
The look in her eyes scared me for a second. I patiently awaited her reaction.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

A THOUGHT FOR NIGERIA

2009-10-21T12:47:00.000-07:00

Before I say anything, I need to stress the fact that I am broke! As in, I need money like a plant needs water. On Saturday, I understood what it means to be really broke. I was on my way to Lekki Phase 1 and somehow I made a big mistake of entering a public bus. Well, it wasn’t really a mistake in the true sense of it because I had a choice but somehow in being careful of my financial capability at that time, I decided to do what I had to do. I had an appointment for 12 noon and I ended up arriving at my appointment location at around 1.45pm. Reason: Traffic! It was at this point that I really understood what the recent roadwork around the Lekki roundabout had really caused. Bloggers who live in Lekki and its environs would definitely understand what I am talking about. There’s been a move lately to eliminate the popular Lekki roundabout and this action has indeed caused untold hardship for commuters all over the Lekki axis. It’s been an ordeal and the only option in order not to arrive late for appointments remains taking a motorbike (otherwise known as ‘okada’). The solution sounds pretty easy except for the fact that the exorbitant fares would nearly drive you nuts, especially if you happen to be a ‘little broke’ like I was on that day. I just couldn’t afford to pay N400 from Ajah to Lekki Phase 1 and so for N70, I had to endure the hardship of sitting in a stuffy bus for almost two hours for a journey that ordinarily shouldn’t have taken less than twenty minutes. Tragic!

This post should have been done over two weeks ago in celebration of Nigeria’s independence but I just couldn’t find the time but then the fact that we are still in October makes it just okay to write a post in commemoration of our beloved country’s 49th birthday. I attended a church service on 4th of October that was more or less an ‘independence celebration service’ judging by my pastor’s sermon and other activities that took place in church on that day. In the course of listening to my pastor’s message, I got a further confirmation that indeed Nigeria still has a bright future and the fact that most of us have lost faith in this country hardly helps matters. In his sermon, my pastor explained that Nigeria has indeed got a wonderful future and a simple equation is all the country needs to get on the right track. The much publicized re-branding slogan should be analyzed first. Nigeria as a country in the effort to re-brand its bastardized image touts the new logo: Nigeria; Good People, Great Nation! Indeed! Our beloved country, instead of being congratulated and cheered by the international community has over the past months been ridiculed and attacked by the same international community with strong condemnation of our ‘re-branding exercise’ being an exercise in futility, and unfortunately, I agree with this judgment. Nigeria as a nation needs a total overhaul of its economy and not a foolish re-branding exercise. The so-called re-branding is like ‘wearing new clothes for a child who’s not had a bath in years’. Why not bath the kid first and then put some new clothes on him. My conclusion is Nigeria needs total deliverance.

In his sermon, my pastor explained that the ‘Nigeria; Good People, Great Nation’ catchphrase is an obvious farce at best because no nation can become truly great without the correct leadership. The future of the nation rests largely on the leadership since those in control of the country in a strong way determine what happens in the country. It is pretty easy to conclude that our lives and future as a nation are in the hands of these leaders and their actions go a long way in determining how far our nation would go and our rating in the sphere of things globally. Rather than pose with the unrealistic logo, it is best revised as: ‘Nigeria; Good People, Great Leadership, Great Nation’ for it is only when good people have the right leadership that a great nation could truly emerge. We need to have leaders who truly care about the affairs of the nation and not just themselves and their families. It is common practice in Nigeria today to rejoice whenever a close relative or someone you happen to know gets to a position of power politically. You find Nigerians with relatives who are local government chairmen, commissioners, governors or even local government councilors among other political positions thanking God continually and making statements like “Thank God o! It’s our time to enjoy!” Even devout Christians and Muslims who claim they are not corrupt make these same statements unconsciously. I now find myself wondering what these people mean when they decide it’s time to enjoy. Literarily, this means that your relative who gets to a position of power is there basically to serve JUST YOU and meet ONLY YOUR needs. If he does anything contrary, you begin to heap curses on him and claim ‘he has bitten the fingers that fed him’ especially if you happen to have done one little favour or more for him in the past. How pathetic? How would he meet your extraordinary needs without dipping his fingers into public money? How would your relative or friend perform his sworn responsibilities to the country when he has to think of what you and the rest of his siblings, family members and friends are asking him for?

The average Nigerian has come to totally subscribe to the ‘life is all about me’ policy. We are so individualistically-minded that we do not give a hoot about to others so long as we are okay. No country can move forward with this mentality. This mindset would only bring evil and all that come with evil as well. Leading a nation entails working towards achieving a collective goal or agenda. Every member of a group has individual goals and agendas too but for that group to succeed there is a strong need to place the general and collective agenda above any individual agenda. The moment a leader begins to place his personal agenda (his family’s and friends’ inclusive) above the collective agenda, he has defeated the purpose of the group’s collective agenda and that group cannot succeed. That is the basic problem Nigeria has today. Every one goes up there to represent himself (or herself) and not the country. If only our leaders would have a heart for the people, we would realize all our long awaited dreams and Nigeria will truly become the ‘great nation’ it claims to be. I believe there is a great future for our nation and we can begin to effect the much needed change from this moment. In a spiritual dimension, I was made to understand that the ‘49’ mark is pretty significant especially because it marks the dawn of the year of jubilee which is the 50th year. According to the Holy Bible, in the 50th year, all slaves in Israel are set free and a great feast is declared unto the Lord as a celebration of the dawn of a new generation. The fact that Nigeria is celebrating her 49th year of independence should indeed mark a new beginning for each and every one of us as citizens of this country. We are at the dawn of the year of jubilee and we need to tap into the spiritual significance of this and work towards the realization of all the promises associated with this occurrence.

It is also worthy of note that the salvation of our country doesn’t just rest with a great leadership. It actually begins with us as citizens of this great country. What is our attitude when it has to do with things that pertain to Nigeria? It is so easy to hear statements like “Nigeria is a useless country.” “I hate this country.” “Fuck this country.” “Nigeria can never be better,” etc. Realistic as these statements may sound, it does little to help the nation move forward. In a spiritual dimension, our confessions greatly matter and as such, it greatly helps when we make positive confessions about our lives and our country. We need to begin to believe in our country, Nigeria once again. It is so funny that citizens of Nigeria hardly pay any significant attention to the words of the national anthem and the national pledge. These are perhaps the words with the strongest spiritual significance yet most of us hardly take this fact into cognizance. One secret of the world’s greatest countries is the love of the citizens for their country. If citizens of Nigeria truly love their country, there are so many things that are done today that would not be done. We hear of endless cases of armed robbery, corruption, violence, unaccountability, slothfulness and nonchalance on the part of citizens and the government at all levels towards the affairs of the country and we wonder if there’s any hope for this country. I took time to study the words of the national anthem and the national pledge and realized the power that lies within those words we recite carelessly every day and take for granted. It is such a pity that most of us have even forgotten the words of our national anthem and national pledge. It has gotten so bad that even the young ones who have little or nothing on their minds find it hard to remember these words of commitment. It is hi-time children begin to be taught the need for total devotion to their country from childhood. It is so common to hear Americans say “God bless America!” Nigerians should be able to confidently say “God bless Nigeria!” and mean it in their heart’s deepest recesses. If only we could truly recite the words of the national anthem and pledge with our hearts, the country would indeed progress at a greater speed. Please, take time to digest the words of the national anthem below and see how indeed powerful these words are and how much impact they could make in our lives if only they are genuinely recited. The national anthem reads:

Arise, O compatriots
Nigeria’s call obey
To serve our fatherland
With love and strength and faith
The labour of our heroes past
Shall never be in vain
To serve with heart and might
One nation bound in freedom
Peace and unity

O God of creation
Direct our noble cause
Guide our leaders right
Help our youth the truth to know
In love and honesty to grow
And living just and true
Great lofty heights attain
To build a nation
Where peace and justice shall reign

I would however dwell more on the national pledge. It is necessary to note that whenever we utter the words of the national anthem or the national pledge, we are making a confession that is binding on us and any action that counters our confessions make us despicable in the eyes of our Creator. The national pledge in itself is actually a promise, an oath and any action taken by us contrary to the words we recite in this national pledge makes us unfit to stand before the Lord’s sight because the Almighty God greatly despises lips that speak lies. The words of our national pledge read:

I pledge to Nigeria, my country
To be faithful, loyal and honest
To serve Nigeria with all my strength
To defend her unity
And uphold her honour and glory
So help me God

These are indeed strong words to speak and not honouring these words make us liars and infidels who are not fit to live. As Nigerians, we need to search our hearts and discover in what ways we have not been faithful to our country and address these areas accordingly. Have we been loyal to Nigeria in our words, thoughts and actions? Have we been honest? Do we serve this country with all our strength or partially? Do we pray Nigeria stays united or we prefer the country is divided? Do we actually do things that uphold Nigeria’s honour and prestige internally and among the committee of nations? In reciting the pledge, we have made a vow and we need to keep that vow. The fact remains that if only Nigerians could truly love Nigeria and work towards the progress of the country, Nigeria would not only move forward but would be among the world’s greatest nations in a short while. The ball is in our court. We are the only ones who could decide our future.

GEEBEE’S TRIP WILL CONTINUE IN THE NEXT POST.

You could read the latest episode of GEEBEE’S TRIP here.

EPISODE 20 – ABOUT A GIRL

2009-09-28T12:32:00.000-07:00

I’ve heard a lot of tales on matchmaking and all those ‘I-met-this-girl-or-guy-through-a-friend’ kind of stuff where it borders on relationships and dating. In fact, most people we have dated or are currently dating are people we met through one acquaintance or the other, a sure proof to the ‘no man is an island’ theory. It’s only in rare cases you bump into a total stranger and begin dating after a short while. Come to think of it, even in such cases, one thing or the other usually leads you to meeting that stranger. You probably happened to meet that person in the course of visiting a friend or just strolling casually in a random neighbourhood. As such, I can confidently say that you can never meet anyone just like that. The meeting has to happen through someone or through just anything. In fact, we have a perfect example on blogville. Take a look at Aloted and Writefreak. Now, y’all see what I mean, right? Now, what was the point of all that explanation? I wonder too, lol.

When I saw BG again in April/May 2005, I was somewhat surprised. I did not recognize her immediately. She actually remembered my name and after a little memory awakening, I remembered she was Sam’s girl, the one I had met once some months back.
“Hey, I remember you now,” I said. “Sam’s girl, right? BG or something,” I said half closing my eyes as I tried to recollect her name, more like as a way of compensating for the fact that she could remember mine.
“Yeah, that’s correct,” she said, smiling. “How come you could remember?” she asked teasingly.
I shrugged. “Reflex, I guess,” I said, feeling cool with myself that I passed the ‘name-remembering’ test. “Besides, you could remember mine.”
“Yes. I hardly forget names and faces,” she said further.
“Hmm, really?” I said, impressed. “That’s one problem I seem to have and it always makes me look like one who doesn’t care about people.”
She smiled again. “Nah, it’s not that bad now. People are different. Some have good memory in other stuff besides remembering names.”
I smiled especially because I knew she was right. I was such a person for one.
“So what are you studying here?” I asked.
“They gave me Business Administration,” she said, as though she hated the course. “I think I would have preferred English and Literature.”
I wondered what she had been thinking when she chose Business Administration when she really wanted some other course that was in fact pretty much more comfortable to study.
“It’s a long story,” she said as though reading my thoughts. I suspected she had probably been influenced by her folks or some other people into choosing her course of study, a more professional course as compared to English and Literature.
“So what are you studying?” she asked.
“Economics,” I said proudly. Indeed, I was glad I was studying a respectable course that could only be compared with the likes of Medicine and Law in the sciences and arts respectively. She seemed impressed.
“Ha, you people are the ‘efiwes’ o.”
We chatted a little further until she decided she had to go for a lecture. I had to attend mine too so I did not mind. In fact, during the brief chat, I had wanted to end the discussion a little earlier but she seemed like the talkative type and I did not want to make her look bad by my action so I simply played according to her tune. I was glad the chat was over at last. She had hardly taken a few steps when she turned again.
“Geebee, have you seen Sam today?” she asked.
“No, I’ve not” I said but I’m sure he’ll be around soon. It was about a few minutes to five pm and I was pretty early in school for that time. Usually, most of us came in around 5.30 pm but it was okay for the ‘freshers’ to come in before time. After all, they were the ones that ‘school was still shacking’ unlike those of us who had been around for a little while.

I saw BG again later that day with Sam and we all hung around together. I could easily see that Sam was not really interested in the fact that she was chilling with him and his friends and he did not hesitate to show that with his sulky attitude towards her. On the other hand, BG did not seem to get the message. She laughed and talked freely as though she was hanging out with the best crew on the floor. I understood almost immediately why Sam was a little reluctant in being seen with her. There were a good number of hot new girls around and he would not want any old girlfriend to spoil his new prospects. It was very much understandable. In fact, I would have done the same. However, I did not really like the manner in which Sam was making his discontent so obvious. I felt he could have at least given the girl a little respect at least for his friends’ sake. I was pretty sure my other friend; Simon felt the same way even if he did not make any comment. I was a little glad that BG appeared not to notice anything, or probably she chose to act as though she was not unhappy with Sam’s attitude.

From that day, I saw more and more of BG and at a point, I began to feel a little uncomfortable with how she was always around us. For a second, I began to agree with Sam’s probable thought that she was indeed ‘spoiling our runs’. Usually, most girls would not want to date a guy they had seen some other girl with. However, it was easy to see that BG simply enjoyed our company and felt it was natural to hang out with her ‘boyfriend’ and his friends rather than hang out with other people. Over the next few days, I got to understand that this girl was just a friendly girl with no inhibitions whatsoever as to how the guys she was hanging out with felt about her. She was the ‘nice’ and ‘naïve’ type and somehow even though I never really fancied her type, it was easy to like her. ‘Like’ here had nothing to do with romantic attraction. I simply liked her as a brother would like a younger sister. I kinda liked the innocence and naïveté she exuded but I preferred her as a friend rather than as a girlfriend. Physically, she was petite and cute and averagely beautiful but there were of course much more ‘physically endowed’ girls in the school and day by day, they were being snatched. Some other guys were interested in BG but she hardly gave them a second look probably because she felt she had Sam already and the fact that she was always around us hardly helped matters.

As the days progressed, Sam began to act more weirdly towards BG, sometimes deliberating avoiding her and making very little conversation whenever she was with us. At a point, she began to show signs of pain at her supposed boyfriend’s actions. Sam even went to the extent of flaunting other girls in front of her; an attitude I felt was rather childish. I felt it was not worth it trying to get rid of her by acting that way. I believed he could simply tell her he did not want to be with her and spare her the stress of believing she had a guy, when the guy hardly spoke to her. I decided to give Sam a piece of my mind.
“Guy, why don’t you just tell her you don’t want her and let her go?” I told him times without number. Usually, Sam would sigh as though he was confused on what to do.
“Geebee, I don’t know how to tell her. I would be hurting her by doing that now.”
“But you’re hurting her more by acting the way you act towards her,” I asserted further. “It’s either you change the way you act towards her or just let her go.”
“I’m acting this way so that she’d get angry and leave me alone.” Sam defended.
I sighed. “But it’s obviously not working,” I said. “Some girls are just that way. They don’t ever get the picture no matter how plain you show it. It’s best you let her know you’re not interested in her anymore. You’ll spare her more pain by that.”
I shared my thoughts with Simon too and he seemed to agree with me. I felt I was being too concerned about the situation but I just couldn’t help watching the way Sam was treating BG. I felt she didn’t deserve such treatment. She was just a nice and friendly girl. Sam however continued to hesitate until finally he decided to follow my advice.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP

EPISODE 19 - 999 KISSES FOR A SPECIAL WOMAN

2009-09-09T03:36:00.000-07:00

Taking a look at the title of this episode, one would wonder why I did not simply imitate Will Smith and make it ‘a thousand kisses.’ I mean, what’s the big deal in adding just one to 999 and making it 1000, a seemingly more perfect number. But I beg to differ. 999 sounds more perfect to me in right now. Aside from the fact that 999 is a hell of a lot sexier than 1000 (don’t you think so too?), I have noticed that lately I’ve fallen in love with a particular set of days. I call them my ‘special triples.’ Think of days like the 6th of June 2006 (06-06-06 0r 666. lol); 7th of July 2007 (07-07-07), 8th of August 2008 (08-08-08) or the similar earlier days in 2001 through 2005 and now, what have we here? The last of the single triple series for at least another one thousand years - 9th of September 2009 (09-09-09 or better still, 999). Hmmm, sounds pretty special, don’t you think? In fact, if only I could be ‘Geebee Almighty’ for just a second, I would be tempted to declare a field day of blessings and great surprises for everyone. Now, that’d be extra cool, wouldn’t it? Before now, I used to call these days ‘jinxed triples’ even up till last year. In fact, I did a post on ‘jinxed triples’ on 08-08-08. There seemed to exist this natural assumption that such days were evil. I think it actually began with 06-06-06 where some sick folks thought doomsday was actually here because of the semblance to the number 666. Come to think of it, today could actually be doomsday. Simply invert 999 and you’ll see. Hoooooo, I’m shaking! I’m shaking! lol.

This episode is actually dedicated to a special woman; one who has perhaps come to mean so much to me and could easily be considered to be my ‘better half’ (not that I totally subscribe to that term though) like they say. I’m dedicating this post to no other but my own girl and babymama, who happens to be a year older today. Yeah, she was born on the 9th of September many years ago, which makes her a 999 celeb. Now, I wonder if this babe is not evil. lol. This woman is not just my number one woman (besides my mum and daughter though. Who says a man cannot have three number one women). She’s the mother of my two-year old daughter, TY and I just thought it would fit so perfectly to continue the series by introducing her into the picture. I would not be using her real name for anonymity sake just like I haven’t been using real names of all characters so you can excuse me for that. However, if you’re so curious to know her real name, you can walk the little extra mile called ‘THE JOURNEY OF FINDING OUT GEEBEE’S WOMAN’S TRUE IDENTITY.’ Funny enough, it’s a somewhat easy journey and some of you guys already know her true identity. Anyways, let’s leave that aside and get on with the real gist. Meanwhile, HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABYGURL! You mean more to me everyday and I’m so glad I found you!

By April 2005, I had left my job especially after my experience with the ‘zombies’. Of course my boss was pretty hurt to see me leave but my mind was made up, especially after considering the overall situation. In fact, I left without collecting my full outstanding salary. That had to be paid in two separate installments over a couple of weeks. It didn’t take me too long to get another job, this time in a bigger and much more organized place. It was a cyber café in a more pleasant neighbourhood. The salary was better and much more guaranteed. However, as I came to find out, my new boss was the shrewdest man ever. He was a Masters Degree holder in Economics, my progressing discipline (kinda why he fancied me, I guess) and he had retired after working with the Central bank to begin his own chain of businesses. It was indeed obvious my new boss was a man of means especially considering the fact that he had three offices on the floor and judging by the location of the shopping complex, the spaces were definitely very expensive. The three offices were shared thus: a cybercafe, a photo studio and a bar/restaurant. He had a pretty queer manner in which he ensured that every member of his staff served in all three outlets simultaneously. I was not just a cyber café attendant. I was also a photographer and a bar man! We usually rotated these responsibilities but along the line, I was lucky to be excused from the bar/restaurant services so I was restricted to the cyber café and the studio. It was there I learnt a thing or two on digital photography. From these three outlets, my boss made good money everyday. Our rates were pretty high compared to the ongoing market rate. The location of the business provided the perfect excuse for the higher rates, thus, it wasn’t at all difficult for my boss to maintain a work force of about ten people, myself included. In fact, our monthly salaries put together was a teeny weeny percentage of what he made from his businesses every month. This was a far cry from where I had just left and I was delighted at least for a while.

Mr. Valkyrie (a random name) also knew how to get what he wanted and he never hesitated to talk down anyone who would not do his bidding perfectly. He insulted both his staff and customers alike whenever they crossed his path. No one was at all special in Mr. Valkyrie’s sight and as such, the office always had permanent vacancies, as workers resigned every now and then and some new fella came on, only to resign after a few weeks or at most, a month! Mr. V obviously noticed this trend and thus decided to work on it in his own smart way. He changed the salary payment structure to two separate installments, where he paid half a week before the month end and the other half a week into the new month. That ploy worked so well, since no one would be willing to run away after working an extra week in the new month. Somehow though, I steered clear of my boss’ bad books and we hardly had any confrontations (of course there were a few but compared to most of my colleagues there, I was pretty lucky). The man also believed he was the smartest man alive and he constantly affirmed this to no end.
“Nobody can cheat me,” he would say. “I am too smart for any of you.”
Truly, he was. He had a check on every thing that it was so hard to short change the man. The books were so arranged that every kobo had to be accounted for and whenever there was any shortfall, the staff on duty bore the loss, as Mr. Valkyrie deducted the total amount of shortfall at the end of the month from the fella’s salary. Sometimes, some guy would have shortfall amounting to about half of his salary for the month. Aside from the boss’ attitude, this was the major reason why most of the people who worked there resigned pretty soon. I settled down pretty soon and after studying my work environment for sometime, I realized that Mr. Valkyrie wasn’t really as smart as he claimed or at least, even if he was that smart, he could still be outsmarted and I was that guy who could do that; afterall we were both in the same discipline of Economics. I decided to bid my time.

I had gotten the job during the long break and by that same April, school reopened. I was now in my second year as an Economics student and what made it particularly cool to be in second year was the fact that some new faces would be coming in – the freshers. Hmmm, they looked so cute and for once, I wouldn’t be seeing just the same old faces again. The 100 level students far outnumbered the staylites. Obviously, more people were now interested in the part time University programme after seeing it work successfully for the first year. This time, there were more young people unlike my set where the old jostled for dominion with the young. The new guys were cool and the new girls were a hell of a lot cooler. I allowed my thoughts wander to Lovina and I was indeed glad to be well rid of her. Had she still been in the picture, it would have been pretty difficult to get in the groove with the new blood. Babygurl (BG) was one of the girls of the new blood. She was a fresh student of Business Administration. Actually, that wouldn’t be the first time I was meeting BG but that would be the first time I was seeing her as a student of my school. I had met her almost a year before through a friend of mine, another colleague called Sam. Sam, Simon and I used to hang out a lot and at a point we were like three inseparable kids. We had a fourth guy, Bayla, who was a little older and was hardly around (except for lectures which he often missed too) due to the fact that he worked in a big organization on the island. Sam had introduced me to BG on that fateful day as his friend and we had exchanged pleasantries but I never took any special notice of her. At that time, I had still been deeply engrossed in my affair with Lovina to notice any girl. Like every young guy with a tinge of youthful exuberance, Sam had painted a bad boy picture of himself and how he had girls at his beck and call. In fact, he claimed BG was just one of his many girls and truth was, we always envied him for his collection of babes as he claimed. There really was nothing exceptional about BG though. She was petite and cute in a little way and I never really took any notice of her until I saw her almost a year later in school.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 18: ALL IN THE NAME OF A ‘JOB’

2009-08-30T12:21:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, what’s been up with y’all lately? Trust life’s been pretty good as usual (for some anyway. lol). Well, it’s been awesome over here at my end. Thank God for the weather and for the breath of fresh air. Thank God for his protection and provision for me and everyone that concerns me – family and friends and of course for you guys too. In the last episode, I talked about my ridiculous job and how difficult it became to keep my head up especially after Madam L’s exit. I had to endure the job and its frustrations for a little while until a particular incident finally made me decide it was time to wake up and smell the coffee (some folks would say it was time to ‘give myself brain’ and sure I did).

Now, part of my responsibilities as an office assistant and the sole employee of my employer included going out to deliver our stuff – complimentary cards produced, ID cards and also to collect money from defaulting clients. Now, that was a pretty rare occurrence, especially because we hardly had any serious clients at all! We continued to do the usual outsourcing of those printing jobs we could not handle due to lack of the necessary gadgets. Usually, we had such jobs handled by bigger computer centers far away from the office, all in a bid to reduce the cost to us and give our ‘clients’ the impression that we actually ‘did’ the jobs. Of course we constantly had problems with some of these clients especially because of delays in getting their jobs ready or mistaking up one client’s job for another among other stuff. My boss (his name was Iyke. I even related with him on first name basis) was pretty enterprising in his own little right. He never seemed to bother about the fact that his business was quite small or that he lacked most of the facilities needed to execute the jobs he claimed to do. He did his bit in marketing himself and the business to some big companies and organization and even though most of them hardly gave us any jobs (of course they had bigger computer centers handling their stuff), one or two were willing to give us a try and it was in the cause of recouping our payment from one of these companies that I almost got killed.

Whitehorse Limited was a multinational corporation based in Victoria Island and somehow my boss had been able to get the contract to handle the design and production of new complimentary cards and ID cards for its staff. Whitehorse was into importing and exporting, shipping and general merchandise. The contract was definitely worth some good money and Iyke was grinning from ear to ear. I believe it would have been worth a lot more if only we handled the jobs and did not outsource. However, whatever was coming to us was still fair enough, especially considering the financial resources within the capability of this corporation. I was even beginning to get pretty sure that I would get my full salary for the first time plus all previous outstanding balances. Meanwhile, Iyke hoped to give them the best job ever in order to open more opportunities for bigger contracts in future. I agreed with him. On that fateful day, I was to pick up a cheque at Whitehorse Limited as balance payment for the job we had done. I arrived at the company’s office and I was very much impressed with what I saw. These guys definitely had some good money. I flirted with the idea of asking for a job if ever the opportunity arose while I was there. It would definitely have been pretty cool to be working with Whitehorse Limited even as an errand boy rather than stick with Iyke and his stipends.

There was a residential building right beside Whitehorse Limited’s office and there were three men playing cards at the gate. They were all dressed in army uniform making it pretty obvious that they were soldiers or at least they had some military training. I greeted them as I passed by and they responded well. I proceeded to see the guy I was supposed to meet at Whitehorse and he asked me to hold on while he verified some details. It was as though by ‘hold on’ this guy meant something else as I found myself sitting there for almost an hour. To worsen the situation, the so-called guy was not even in sight. I was just about to go to the office I had seen him enter earlier on when he came out and from the look on his face when he spotted me; it was obvious he had totally forgotten about me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” he said, his countenance showing he meant what he said. “I just sent someone to get the funds from the Accounts department.”
I was double sure he was lying just to cover up his forgetful ass. I sighed impatiently.
“So how much longer do I have to wait?” I asked, hoping for the worst.
“Twenty minutes. Not a second longer.”
I decided that rather than sit and wait another twenty minutes, I would take a walk outside the premises to while away the time. That proved to be a major mistake. Fifteen minutes later, I had taken my walk and was on my way back to Whitehorse. I wonder what I was thinking when I entered right into the premises the men in uniform had been guarding. The soldiers of course had been so engrossed in their cards that they hardly noticed me go in. The gate had been open all along and I just strolled in, obviously assuming I was in the premises of Whitehorse Limited. I had scarcely gone two yards into the premises when I realized my error. Quickly, I turned back to leave and just as I made my move, I heard someone yell.
“Hey you, what are you doing here?”
A man emerged from inside the building. He was a rather stout man, wearing a boubou and trousers and he looked pretty furious.
“Sorry sir,” I apologized. “I was actually going to the next compound.” As I spoke, I made a move to leave the place immediately.
“Stop there!” the man bellowed and his tone caused a shiver to run down my spine. I could instantly smell the trouble in the air.
“Koko! Dunba! Foli! Where are you idiots?” the man barked.
Immediately, the three uniformed men I had seen outside rushed into the premises, saluting the man. My heart raced furiously.
“Who is this boy? Who is he?” the man in boubou asked; more like screamed.
I began to speak quickly. “I was actually going to . . .”
“Sharrrap!” the man yelled again and before I knew what was happening, something as hard as a rock hit me at the back of my head. It was actually a man’s fist – one of the uniformed men’s. I believe I saw stars at that moment. Before I could recover another cut my legs from under me in a swift low kick and I found myself flat on my chest. The man, who was obviously their boss muttered some words in Hausa or Fulani (I’m not quite sure) and these guys gave me a good beating that took me within metres of Heaven’s gate (at least so I felt). I knew these guys were going to kill me if I did not do something fast and suddenly I began to heave and touch my chest, signaling something to the man in charge. The men continued to kick and flog me with their belts.
“Please, I’m asthmatic! I can’t breathe.” I managed to half scream. That was the only thing that came to mind at that moment. Of course I was not (and have never been) at all asthmatic but I bet anyone would even claim to be dead if need be to escape what these lunatics were doing.
“Let him die! Fool! Barrao bansa!” the man snickered for a second before telling the men to leave me alone. I could hardly move for a good while but I was glad to still be alive. The man retreated into the main house and the soldiers pulled me up and took me outside.
“My friend, sorry o,” one of them said. “Na our oga be that o.”
“Thank God say e no talk say make we kill you sef. We for kill you be that,” another said. That was the soldier who had first used the belt on me.
“Na true o,” the third soldier concurred with his colleagues.
I could not fight back the tears pouring from my eyes. I had never felt so abused, insulted and cheated in my entire life. At that moment, if I had the powers, I would have rained fire from heaven on the ‘bastard’ of a man and his ‘zombie’ soldiers. In fact, it was at that point I truly understood what Fela meant when he called soldiers ‘zombies’. Imagine what the soldier said. They would really have killed me if their boss had asked them to. Painfully, I dusted my clothes. The stupid fools even had the guts to help me in dusting my clothes too. I did not utter a word. I returned to Whitehorse and it took all I had in me not to curse the guy I had met earlier when he told me I would have to come back the next day because the accountant had to check on some details that had not been confirmed. I walked out of the premises and again, the soldiers waved at me, apologizing. I totally ignored them. They could rot in hell for all I cared. I swore by my bruises and rough clothes that they would all get their rewards someday. I proceeded back to my office. As far as I was concerned, that was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. I decided to quit my job.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP

EPISODE 17- SURVIVING THE AFTERMATH

2009-08-15T11:00:00.000-07:00

Recently, a friend of mine got robbed. ‘Robbed’ as in, accosted on the highway by dare devil armed robbers who had posed as policemen; forced into the bushes along with many others; having their cars and pockets ransacked and all valuables commandeered and the worst scenario was the fact that two of the victims were actually killed. One was a cute lady probably in her early twenties who tried to resist the evil men’s attempt to rape her and the other, a middle aged woman who had attempted to conceal the jewelries she had on her. It was a most pathetic tale and I have tried to imagine my friend’s reaction after it was all over. The usual reaction after escaping a precarious situation is hardly predictable. For some, it’s a sigh, for some, it’s an accelerated heartbeat and for some, it’s just a silent mumble of ‘thank God’ or a wave of happiness flooding through them that the worst has ended. The aftermath of ending my relationship with Lovina remains a vague picture in my mind but I remember I was so glad it was all over even though I found myself wondering once or twice if she wouldn’t come back out of the blue to continue from wherever we had left off. Well, she didn’t . . . at least not directly.

Lectures resumed soon and by February 2005, I was about to celebrate another Valentine’s Day without a girlfriend. I suppressed a chuckle as I imagined if I would have actually had one with Lovina had she still been in the picture. It didn’t seem likely but then who could really tell? I resumed school with a breath of fresh air and bumped into Lovina on a couple of occasions. Her sense of maturity surprised me as she acted as though nothing had happened. Surprising as it seemed, I was glad. I really would never have wanted to make enemies with this woman but still, silent voices in my head told me to continually watch my back just incase she still planned to make me pay for my ‘sins’. On the other side, work was going pretty bad. I had been working for about three months, earning a paltry N 8000 that never seemed to come as at when due. My boss was a young man in his early thirties who had just started a computer center. We did printing jobs, typing, complimentary cards, ID cards and all other stuff you could do with a computer but the funny thing was that most of the jobs we claimed we did were actually outsourced to other computer centers so we really never did most of the jobs except the typing and printing. We even claimed to sell computers too, something that never happened throughout the duration I worked there. I was my boss’s only employee and my duties included minding the office, handling the ‘few’ jobs we ever had. Note the emphasis on few. We hardly made any money and so it was very easy to understand why I couldn’t get my salary as at when due. Usually, my N 8000 was split into four separate installments, making the money worth virtually nothing by the time I got the full payment say two months after. For example, my November salary was paid somehow like this:

31st November – Story . . . no money
7th December – N2000
17th December – N2000
23rd December – N2500
12th January – N1500

Then we would begin to see how we could structure the payment for December through January and part of February and the January payment through March and part of April. It was very pathetic. I couldn’t blame my boss since we hardly made that amount in a month. Keeping me as an employee was actually an added cost to the business but somehow he did not wish to let me go. Truth was, I was really not bothered initially since I still got pocket money from my dad and the extra excess from Madam L but soon I began to realize I was bothered, especially since the ‘money well’ seemed to have dried up since Madam L’s exit. . . and for the first time, I began to miss her. With Lovina, I never lacked and Chief’s money felt like chicken change to me. In fact, I hardly bothered whether he gave me pocket money or not. My phone was constantly recharged by Madam L. At that time, airtime validity was not like what it is today. A N500 recharge card had 5 days validity and stuff like that so your validity increased as you loaded airtime on your phone and for a ‘little boy’ like me, that would have been tough but with Madam L in the picture, I had an excess of 3 months validity in the least. It truly dawned on me that the tap had stopped running and things would no longer be the same. Even my friends noticed I was not as buoyant as I used to be and they asked the most frustrating of questions, most of which I hardly answered. I started to worry about money and my job no longer seemed appealing at all, especially when I almost got killed by soldiers all in the cause of working for a paltry sum of N 8000 that was almost non existent.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP

EPISODE 16: DAMNING THE CONSEQUENCES

2009-07-31T09:29:00.000-07:00

The last time I dropped a post, just a little over two weeks ago (post came pretty early this time, right? You bet!), aside from doing Episode 15 of Geebee's Trip, I said some stuff about celebration(s) - My birthday, my daughter's birthay and my grandmum's birthday. True, we ha a party on 19th July and mehn, it was banging! It was one whole great reunion. Talk of cousins, aunties, uncles, in-laws, friends and what have you. My grandmum was particularly happy to be celebrating her 70th birthday, after being blessed with 7 children, 23 grandchildren and 1 great-grandchild who happens to be my daughter. Hey, ain't I the bomb! lol. That said, let's do Episode 16: Damning the Consequences.

What were the consequences in question here? Was it actually worth it damning the consequences of resigning from being a yuppie, a 'sugar-son'? Was it easy damning the consequences of leaving a sugar-mummy? You bet it was, especially when the act itself became too close for comfort. That was exactly how it felt for me in January 2005. I had travelled for the 2004 Christmas break and I returned feeling somewhat refreshed, renewed and determined to put a final stop to the affair with Madam Lovina (or Madam L). I seriously doubted if I would be successful in getting her off my back but I resolved to take the action nonetheless and I did. How did I? Funny enough, I did not right away actually tell this mother-of-five off face to face. Truth was, I had no balls to. I rehearsed a million and one times on how I would face her and tell her it was over but when the real test came, I failed like hell. Finally I took the coward's way out - UNAVAILABILITY. I began to avoid her like a plague and this time, I allowed it go as far as it could. I deliberately avoided her calls and refused to go see her. Much to my chagrin, she finally checked on me in my workplace (I had gotten a job as an Office Assistant at a Computer Center before the Christmas break to ease the boredom of staying idle during the daytime).
"Geebee, I knew I would find you here at least." the woman had begun on sighting me as she stepped out of her car. I was outside the office as I had just returned from lunch break and seeing her was the last thing I had expected.
"Lovina, what are you doing here?" I began, surprised at the anger in my tone. "You know I don't appreciate you coming to my workplace."
"Why have you been avoiding me, Geebee?" she lashed at me angrily.
"I haven't been avoiding you." I defended. "Please, let's discuss this later. My boss is around and . . ."
"And what?" she barked. "How much does he pay you? Eight thousand naira? I give you much more than that in a week. Let him come out and let me talk sense into his head."
I was beginning to get very uncomfortable and I looked around repeatedly to make sure no one was watching. This woman was becoming hysterical and I knew I needed to get her out of that vicinity or risk her embarassing my boss. She was the kind of woman who could easily do that. She was right. I was being paid N8000 but I was not working because of the money. I had to do something to occupy my self during the day since I had lectures only in the evenings and I had taken the job three months before despite Lovina's pleas for me not to work.
"Okay, I promise we would see and talk this evening." I said finally, praying she would see that as a reasonable offer and leave. I looked at her pleadingly.
"It's a lie." she snapped. "You have been avoiding me and . . ."
She ranted on but I was finally able to convince her to leave after repeatedly promising her that I would see her after closing from work by 4pm. My school was yet to resume for the new session so we had the time to talk. That evening, we met at our usual hangout and I summoned the courage to tell Lovina that we had to quit the relationship.
"Why?" she asked stubbornly. "We have been over this before Geebee and I told you there was no problem."
"We can't," I pleaded. "This is wrong. You have a husband and children and I am beginning to feel guilty about all this."
"Did you just start feeling guilty?" she asked mockingly.
"No. I have been feeling guilty from day one." I said pointedly. I was determined to end the whole thing once and for all.
She sighed. "You would have to give me some time to think about this." she said finally. "We can't just stop like that."
"No Lovina. We have to stop. I'm sorry."
To my greatest surprise, she began to cry and I was moved to tears as well. It was so odd to imagine that this woman loved me that much, enough to cry because I was leaving her. It hurt me to end it all as well but I knew I had to end it before things got too crazy. In fact, it was already crazy enough as it was. Over the course of time we had an affair, Lovina proved to be more than a friend and a lover. She lavished me with gifts, time, money and just so much. I could not begin to estimate how much she had given me but it was sure worth a fortune. The goodwill did not end with me alone. It extended to my friends, Simon, Sam, Bayla and all who associated with me at the time. She even met my younger brother when he came home for the break. It was so easy for people to know there was something going on between me and this woman, but I continually denied it. We were indeed very close. I drove her cars, I visited her home. Her kids loved me like an elder brother and the older ones saw me as a close friend not just to their mum but as their own friend. Her husband liked me a lot as well, often calling me his wife's son. In fact, I settled a quarrel between him and his wife on about two occassions. I had so many reasons why I could not continue to sleep with this woman. The guilt was bound to kill me sooner or later and I could not understand why Lovina did not feel thesame way. Weighing both sides, the losses to me sure outweighed the gains and so I took the plunge and damned the consequences.
"Please, just understand." I said still comforting her. "We would still be friends."
She did not say anything further. She simply got up, picked up her bag and left. As I heard her car zoom off, I silently prayed she would leave things the way I said. However, I decided it would hurt more if I totally ignored this woman. It was best if I kept the friendship alive, especially for the sake of her family members, people I had come to be very close to. I resolved to keep the friendship going, howbeit as careful as possible. This time, there was no doubt in my mind that it would work.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE'S TRIP.

EPISODE 15: TIME'S FLIGHT

2009-07-17T11:21:00.000-07:00

Hey folks. How's it been with y'all? I'm tempted to ask for forgiveness once again but then if I do, it's gonna sound like the new norm. I'm definitely tired of always asking for forgiveness for not been able to keep my word like the Fidelity Bank ad would say. "We're Fidelity, we keep our word." Now, I've got nothing against that bank but you gotta trust me, they don't keep 'all' their words. For example, what about the promises of notifying their clients when they have to make interest rate cuts on savings accounts and stuff? Now, would you blame me if I say I'm gonna update in a week and have to hang on for like three weeks? (True, it's hard to imagine it's been three weeks already!) Time sure flies. I'm dedicating this episode to three special people and in fact, the title of this episode was inspired by these trio.

Number one person is my grandmother who turned 70 on July 9. This woman remains perhaps one of the most amazing people I've ever known. Madam Margaret Ibrahim remains the world's most super mum, grand-mum and great-grand-mum. Happy birthday (in arrears) Grandma! Next on the line is me, Oluwagbemiga 'Geebee' 'Geebaba' 'Geebama' Olowosile. I would be turning 24 tomorrow, July 18. (Now you see why I just had to update.) Why not shout on blogsville that the Almighty God has spared my life yet once again to see another year added to this incredible life of mine. Thank you Baba God! Hope y'all rejoice with me. Finally, I'm also dedicating this episode to the angel of my life (one of the angels actually; perhaps the most special though), my daughter, Oluwatoyosi 'T.Y' Olowosile, who's gonna turn 2 on Monday, July 20 (She missed coming on my birthday by hair's breadth. Arrrrgh! lol). Sometimes it beats me to think that that little baby who was born in what seems like yesterday is a beautiful, bubbling, little girl who gives me tingles and makes me wanna shout 'BRRRRHRRHHHH' whenever I take a look at her. Truly, God has been faithful and I can't thank him enough. Meanwhile we're having a big party on Sunday, 19th July. It's a triple celebration and y'all are invited. There's even 'aso-ebi' so order your copy NOW! . . .

(Update: The party was banging! Check out more photos on my facebook page (There's a link on your right).

TIME'S FLIGHT. What do I actually mean by this? It's certainly a fact that the world's fastest bird is no longer the eagle or whatever. It is 'time'. With the way time flies these days, you find yourself wondering how all of a sudden, things that happened ages ago feel like they happened just minutes ago. Yesterday, you're just a little guy peeing in his pants and today you're a young man taking responsibility for one thing or the other. Yesterday, you were that little girl crying over burst balloons and today you're an old woman looking at your children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, hoping that God would give you some extra more years. He grants this and it all happens so fast that you ask him for a couple extra more and so on. Time sure does fly. Look at this year for instance. It seems like it was just yesterday that we said Happy 2009 and now in a flash, the end of the year is actually closer than the beginning. Time flies.

In a separate dimension, time flies when the things that seemed like fun suddenly feel like a much hated chore you can't wait to end. There is a time for everything and nothing lasts forever and no matter how perfect a time seems, it always has to end somehow. By December 2004, the affair with Madam L had gotten to that point. In the space of four months, I had attained the much desired height of freedom. My first night out of my father's house all now seemed so distant that I hardly remembered that I was that guy who had been so scared to spend the night out against my dad's command. Anyways, digressing a little to that night for those who were soooo interested in what happened with Chief (Uzezi, StandTall and co.), the old man did not utter a word much to my greatest surprise. In fact, that marked the beginning of my freedom. Soon, we moved house as my dad completed his house; a waterfront a good distance away, thus granting me the perfect excuse to spend more nights out with the excuse that coming home after late lectures was stressful. I spent more nights out in the pretext of crashing at my friend, Simon's place whereas I was right with Lovina in a secluded hotel. It was so much fun for a while but at a point, it began to get pretty boring. All the while, my friends, especially Simon had begun to suspect something was going on with this older woman, an assumption I denied times without number. Till date, I still insist to them that I never had an affair with Madam L even though I know they don't believe me. Rumours flew here and there in school and even the few girls I had a thing or two for began to ask weird questions. At a point, I heard one or two lecturers were asking questions about me and that was where I knew I had to draw the line. However, there seemed one big problem. Madam L was not willing to let me go and she made this point crystal clear. All of a sudden, it dawned on me that I was trapped. The semester ended and I spent the long holiday preparing to resume a second year in University while making plans to end things with this woman for good. However, deep down in me, I doubted if those plans would ever work.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE'S TRIP

EPISODE 14 - FALLING . . . AND RISING . . . AND FALLING . . .

2009-06-23T05:24:00.000-07:00

Hey people, what can I say? Been a while? For some funny reason, I can hardly believe it's been exactly two months since I dropped my last post. Beats me too. I have been wondering about what happened myself? Did I get hit by a 'brain flu' (hmmm, with bird flu, swine flu and stuff, brain flu is definitely a future possibility) that made me unable to use my head to think and write? Or did I simply disappear into my own private world ( a world I call Geebama Island, just north of Hawaii)? Or did blogging just become so boring that I had to hold off for a good while? The questions are endless and there's just one answer to all. NO! There really is no answer but this period just proved something to me. You sometimes find yourself in some situations where things you do naturally suddenly become stuff that's hard to be done. Anyways, make we leave matter for Matthias. What matters to me right now is that I'm back and oh Lordy, it feels so good. Feels like actually being in Hawaii. lol. I should also not forget to thank you folks that checked on me all the while. Names need not be mentioned but trust me, you guys made me feel somewhat special and a paticular 'Anonymous' person just happened to become a p...p...p ... ok, stalker during this period (i was actually going to say 'pest') dropping thesame lines over and over just to prove some point, i suppose. Well, all that said, let's resume with Geebee's Trip. Men, I would probably have done like six episodes within these two months and been on Episode 20 instead of Episode 14 - FALLING . . . RISING . . . AND FALLING . . .

The saying goes . . . It is not how many times a man falls that count but how many times he rises again after falling. How true? I have heard these lines over and over again, especially in church, as most of us tend to console ourselves after doing one bad thing or the other. Yes indeed, the good thing about falling is having the fortitude to rise again but what do we say in a situation when a man keeps falling and rising and falling . . . and so on, so much that it becomes a habit. Some would say it really does not matter so long as you always rise whenever you fall. This is exactly the scenario that began after Lovina's phone call on that fateful day. (Revisit Episode 13 to refresh your memory).

Lovina's voice came on air again, a tone of worry and impatience firmly ingrained in it. "Geebee, are you there?
I sighed. "Yes I am here?"
"What is the matter now? You sound strange," she said.
I fought hard to maintain my composure. It was almost as if the woman on the other end could see me physically. I wanted to tell this woman that I regretted everything that had happened between us and I would no longer be a part of such an evil act but the words seemed destined never to proceed beyond my throat.
"I'm alright, Lovina." I found myself saying much to my chagrin. It was as if I no longer owned myself, as though I was being controlled by a strange force. These days, when I loook back, I believe I was so naïve and much as I hated to admit, my age always got in the way back then. I could hardly get past the feeling that I was just nineteen years old and there was a limit to which I could maintain my stand on that issue, especially because it concerned a woman far more advanced in age, experience and resources. I wonder if I actually feared this woman but I believe even if I did not show a physical fear, there was an inward fear lurking on my inside – a fear of what would happen if I let out my thoughts, a fear of what I would lose if I let this woman go, a fear of what this woman could do to me. Of a truth, there was nothing at all scary or dreadful about her but my immature mind back then presented pictures that were not necessarily true about the situation.
“So can we see?” Lovina asked?
I sighed again. “Yes.”
“Okay, meet me at Mr. Biggs by 6 o’clock,” she said, and I could practically sense the joy in her words. She really wished to see me. I felt a sense of accomplishment in the thought. I was wanted by a woman, not some school girl or age grade chic - a woman!

Lovina and I spent that night in a hotel. She had made a good cover up story to her husband and family that she would be going to a relative’s place somewhere on the farther part of Lagos. Right in my presence, she called the supposed relative and filled her on the plan just in case her husband called to verify the story. I watched this woman in awe and could hardly believe I was falling so deep into this abyss and yet could do absolutely nothing about it. I still wonder where on earth I found the courage to call my Dad and tell him that I would not be coming home that night.
“What? Where are you?” Chief barked from his end of the phone.
“Daddy, I have to submit an important assignment in school tomorrow. It’s a group assignment so I would be spending the night in my friend’s place so we can work overnight.”
“No, no. You must come home,” my old man said in his usual commanding tone. “You can go and continue tomorrow.”
“But daddy, I . . .” I began but I heard a click in the receiver. Chief had ended the call. As far as he was concerned, he had spoken and that was final. I was furious. I turned to stare at Lovina and found out that she had been staring at me as well in expectation.
“What did your father say?” she asked me, as though she had not been there all the while I was on the phone with my dad.
“He said I must come home,”
“So what will you do now?” she asked.

I sat there for a minute saying nothing. It was about 10.30 pm and we were already booked into the hotel room. I knew I could still go home if I wanted to and that would really have been the perferct reason for me to avoid being with this Lovina that night. In fact, it was the right thing to do. However, the rebel in me took over. I was indeed tired of being treated like a kid by my dad and step mum. I had always been looking for a way out and even though I dreaded my father, I wanted to defy his authority for once. The thought of what he would do if I did not go home that night to me sent shivers through my spine but I decided I would not go home that night. I looked at my phone and pressed the power button to turn the phone off.
“So what are you going to do?” Lovina asked one more time.
I looked at her and the thoughts of the things that were going to happen that night flooded my brain. I had never slept outside my father’s house before and this was definitely an adventure I was not ready to miss. Chief and his wife could rant all they cared. Tomorrow would take care of itself, I decided. That night marked the beginning of my much longed-for freedom from the bondage of my dad and step mum. Meanwhile, I continued to enjoy my new-found bondage, patiently wondering when I would get out. At nineteen, I felt life couldn’t have been better.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP.

EPISODE 13 - THE SUGAR MUMMY SYNDROME

2009-04-23T08:31:00.002-07:00

WARNING- EXPLICIT CONTENT! FOR MATURE (IN AGE AND MIND) AUDIENCE ONLY!

It feels good to be back again with ‘Geebee’s Trip.’ I had to hold back for a while due to the fact that I’ve been writing examinations. Somehow, being in final year does not sound as easy as it seems. Pardon me, does not seem as easy as it sounds. Now, that’s better. We definitely wouldn’t want a final year Economics student making grammatical blunders all over the place, would we? Well, I’m still yet to conclude the exams but the worst part of it is definitely over. I wouldn’t want to go into the messy details now but trust your boy, it’s not been funny. Anyone who passed through the fore walls of a University and graduated (regardless of whether it’s a 2-2 or 3rd class or whatever) needs to be given a thumbs up and an applause. Let’s hear it for the University graduates now . . . . . . . . . Thank You! Oh, you think it’s easy? Go and ask drop-outs like 9ice and 2Face and they’ll tell you it’s not easy. Lol. (Imagine me talking about 9ice and 2baba. Dem go pay my Professors and even V.C salary altogether sef!) So let’s talk business. Welcome to Episode 13 of Geebee’s Trip: THE SUGAR MUMMY SYNDROME.

What exactly is a syndrome? Could someone help me please? English language gurus, where y’all at? I don’t have a dictionary handy but I know what it means in my head sha. Lol. Better still, I’ll explain using synonymous words provided by MS Word. ‘Syndrome’ could be equated with words like ‘disorder’, ‘condition’, ‘pattern’, ‘disease’ etcetera etcetera. Now, you know what I mean when I use the term ‘The Sugar Mummy Syndrome.’ Question 2. Who is a sugar mummy? I might not readily know how to define a ‘sugar mummy’ but I definitely know that a sugar mummy is none of these:
- A sugar mummy is not a mother who sells sugar or emanates sugar from wherever
- A sugar mummy is not an Egyptian corpse that tastes like sugar.

In the last episode, I talked about my adventure in Madam L’s (sorry she asked me not to call her that, remember), I mean Lovina’s place and how I had to hold her in my arms ‘against my wish’ when she broke into tears. What happened next definitely was beyond our control and right there, I made love to a self-professed twenty-nine year old mother of five who looked old enough to be my mother. We were both carried away in the frenzy and excitement that before I could spell the words L-O-V-I-N-A, we were kissing and caressing each other wildly and struggling with each other’s clothes at the same time. My initial assessment proved right. She actually wore nothing beneath the gown and on entry; I found her wet and throbbing. We made passionate love right on the plush settee in the living room of her matrimonial home and it took great effort to silence the almost audible voices that were screaming ‘Don’t! Don’t!” in my head. I think the voices actually stopped when the session ended. At that point, a deep pang of guilt hit me so badly that I could feel hot tears trying to force their way out. “Jesus! What have you done?” a silent voice in my head said. “I don’t know,” I replied to myself. I got up and reached for my clothes. I could hardly bear to look at the woman lying naked right next to me. It was so easy to be shy at that moment. I felt like a teenage girl who had just lost her virginity.
“Geebee, won’t you have a shower?” Lovina asked and I managed to look down at her. She smiled at me and I wondered if I was the first guy she was ‘doing’ after her husband. In fact, so many questions ran through my head at that moment. I tried to find a look of guilt on her face at that moment as though the guilty look on her face would subside the pain I felt in my heart. Her face was unreadable.
I managed to find my way to the guest bathroom where I sat on the toilet seat for a good ten minutes pondering over what had transpired moments before. I wondered if I would ever be able to forgive myself. Hot tears stung my cheeks and I wished I had the powers to reverse what had happened. Finally, a knock on the door shook me out of my mind trip.
“Geebee, are you alright?” her voice said from outside the door.
“Hmmm, yea . . . yeah.” I managed in a stutter. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom looking fresh and clean as though nothing had happened. She had freshened up as well and changed into new clothes. She took my hand and muttered an almost inaudible ‘thank you.’ I wondered what the ‘thank you’ meant. For the sex or for what? I was confused but I decided I was never going to let this woman see the anger I felt. I was never going to allow her see me as a little boy how was sorry he had stolen a piece of meat from his mummy’s pot. I returned to the living room and told her I would like to leave.
“So soon,” she said disappointedly. “My kids would soon be around. I would love them to meet you.”
What! I muttered silently to myself. Meet her kids? And tell them what? “Hey kids, how are you doing? I just f***kd your mum and I feel sorry about it, okay”
“I really should be leaving now, Mada . . . I mean Lovina. I guess I’ll see them some other time.”
She shrugged. “Okay then, no problem. Let me get you something.”
I knew what she had in mind and instantly, I refused. “No please, don’t bother. I’m fine.”
“No way,” she insisted, heading in quick steps towards her room.
I decided I was not going to allow myself be like one who was being paid for ‘his services’ so I made my way to the front door hurriedly calling out to her that I was gone. As I opened the door, I almost bumped into three little kids. I stared on in horror as I realized these were indeed Madam L’s kids. The oldest of them could not have been more than seven. I stood rooted to the spot for a second.
“How are you doing?” I finally said with a smile.
“Fine” the youngest said. She seemed about three. “Who are you, uncle? Are you my mummy’s friend?”
“Yes, I’m your mummy’s friend.” I said, cursing myself under my breath. “What’s your name?”
“Daniella,” she replied in a sharp voice. “I am three years old.”
I instantly loved this little girl. The older ones, a boy and girl looked at me curiously and I wondered what was going on in their little heads.
“Well, I’m Uncle Geebee. I . . .”
I stopped as Lovina showed up at the door.
“Oh, you kids are back. Joy, Charles, Daniella, this is Uncle Geebee. He is my teacher and he is in my school.”
Daniella took to me instantly, pleading with me not to leave yet. I ended up spending another one hour at their place before leaving. Even the older ones, six year old Charles and seven year old Joy were happy to have a new older friend. The other kids were away at a boarding house secondary school. I left the house finally but not after Lovina had forcefully pushed some notes into my hand to use for my ‘transport’. I realized later that it was three thousand naira.

As I rode home, I reminisced over all that had happened all over again and the thought of her kids further sent fresh pangs of guilt through me. I decided right then that I would end all manner of association with Lovina. I prayed like never before that night especially since I had never ever felt so guilty in my entire life. Over the next two days, I gradually felt better. I refused to go to school and turned off my phone just to avoid this woman and to an extent it worked. I had almost forgotten about her until the evening of the third day when I managed to turn on my phone. Almost instantly, my phone rang. It was Madam L. Reluctantly I picked up the call.
“Hello,” I said.
“Geebee, how now? You did not even call me. Your phone has been off.”
“Sorry,” I said pointedly.
“I want to see you o.” she said.
I sighed for a minute. Somehow it was so difficult to say no. I realized my next response would determine a lot of things and I had to be careful about my next statement.
“Hello. Geebee, are you there?” the voice from the other end said impatiently . . .

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP

HONEST SCRAP AWARD/25 ISSUES I HAVE/GOING AWOL

2009-04-07T12:15:00.000-07:00

THIS IS A MORE UPDATED VERSION OF THIS POST

I’ve been AWOL for about two weeks now and I have a strong reason for this. What do you think Olu Falae, Buhari, Obanikoro, Atiku, Al Gore, John Kerry, McCain, and a host of others did when they discovered they lost in their various elections? They disappeared, probably to cool off and count their losses. Then they reappeared sometime later after the dust had somehow settled. Yes I disappeared o and I have finally reappeared. Hope the dust of the naijabloggersawards had finally settled. . . . Now don’t take me seriously. That was a joke. I never knew what it felt like to suddenly go AWOL until recently. I’ve been bugged down with a high dose of academic stress. Hope y’all didn’t forget that ‘yours sincerely’ is still a humble final year student of Economics. I started my first semester exams last week and I must honestly confess I never knew final year was perhaps the toughest of all school years. Somehow, my exam timetable is pretty annoying. My eight courses were spread in such a manner that I would still have papers to write by May! It hurts and it definitely sucks. Now that’s not all. My project supervisor just gave me the worst headache by rephrasing a simple project topic to something else. Of the three topics I sent, he selected one – THE IMPACT OF THE OIL SECTOR ON THE NIGERIAN ECONOMY AND LINKAGE EFFECTS ON OTHER SECTORS BETWEEN 1988 AND 2008. That was mine and here’s what my supervisor rephrased: AN ECONOMETRIC ANALYSIS OF CRUDE OIL PRICE VOLATILITY AND EXCHANGE RATE STABILITY IN NIGERIA BETWEEN 1970 AND 2008. Now, how in hell am I supposed to do a project on this? I’ve been searching for materials like crazy and at a point I had to plead for a review of the topic and I’m still waiting for the stubborn man to respond. Now, you see why I had to chill out for a while. Meanwhile, I need your help o. Blogville citizens are definitely smart chaps so if ANY OF YOU have related materials, advice and stuff that could be helpful, forward straight away. No doubt, you’ll get a full acknowledgement in my final project draft. Thank you!

Now, lest I forget, did you notice that logo at the top of this post? Of course you did. That’s my CONSOLATION for losing out in all THREE categories of NBA in which I was nominated. Damn! Well, my wounds were definitely healed even before I got wounded. I was recently awarded the HONEST SCRAP AWARD by StandTall, The Activist. She considers my blog BRILLIANT IN CONTENT AND DESIGN. Hmmm, how come NBA peeps couldn’t see that? We will meet at the Bloggers Petition Tribunal. lol. Thanks a lot, StandTall. You wouldn’t know how much this award means to me. Well, there are conditions for accepting this award and they are:

1. You must brag about it (I’ve already done that!)
2. You must include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on you and link back that blogger (It’s StandTall o!)
3. You must choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design OR improvise by including bloggers who have no idea who you are because you don’t have seven friends. Now, that’s funny.
4. Show the seven random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they have been prized with a Honest Weblog. There’s no prize but you get to keep the cute nifty icon (I’m treasuring mine like hell!)
5. List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on!

Hold on a sec. Before I begin, I should also note that I’ve got two tags waiting. I got one from simeone ages ago – 25 ISSUES I HAVE and another one from Spicytee. She wants me to answer some weird questions and making sure all my answers begin with the first letter in my name, that’s ‘G’. In order for us not to stay on this post forever, I would have to defer this one till a later date (but I’ll definitely do it! It looks too cool to ignore). Now, I have observed that the HONEST SCRAP MEME and the 25 ISSUES I HAVE MEME are very much alike so I’ll just combine them and say 25 HONEST THINGS ABOUT ME. Hope it’s allowed. Whatever, sue me! lol.

25 HONEST THINGS ABOUT ME/ISSUES I HAVE

1. I am 6 ft 2 and weigh 70kg. I have tried to gain weight by all means but it just never seems to happen. Girls I’ve dated seem to like me the way I am but I must put on this ‘flesh’ by force o.

2. I am so opinionated that anyone with a contrary opinion automatically becomes my enemy. It’s stupid but I can hardly help it.

3. I pierced my left ear at twenty and had an ear injury that spanned months. Thankfully, it healed and I got to wear eye-catching studs and ice. I stopped wearing earrings like a year later and the ear hole has since closed. Sometimes I feel tempted to reopen it though. I’m still considering.

4. I got my girlfriend pregnant and had a daughter two days after my twenty second birthday. Looking back, I am so glad it happened even though I almost attempted suicide initially.

5. I love kids to a fault. I could even roll on the ground with them. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why God decided to give me a child early.

6. I am a workaholic and a perfectionist. I never put my hands into something if I have the slightest doubt about not making a success out of it and I can’t tolerate failure.

7. I once cried my eyes out when I came third for the first time in my life in Primary 3. That was the only time it ever happened. I came second twice and the remainder . . . you know now. lol

8. I have always had a passion for writing ever since I was a kid and sometimes I wonder if I’m not fooling myself by studying Economics. Well, I might not even use the degree after all.

9. I cannot play a single musical instrument and I hate that fact. I can’t even drum! I plan on learning the keyboard and the guitar soon though.

10. I am a naturally-gifted teacher. I love teaching people and making them understand and whenever I teach someone and the person does not understand, I automatically assume such a person cannot understand that stuff ever.

11. I almost drowned in Bar beach in Victoria Island, Lagos in Christmas of 1992, aged seven. My dad still believes I might have a wife in the ocean. Can you beat that?

12. I don’t like ‘toasting’ women. I prefer it when they come after me. It seems to give me an alibi to run whenever I want to since I didn’t pop the question. Naughty? I know. May God help us.

13. I can hardly sleep beyond eight hours. My body system seems programmed to this.

14. I cannot do the ‘night jacking.’ If I ever have to read overnight, trust me you’ll see a confused guy in the morning.

15. I once caught my younger brother in a brothel but couldn’t challenge him since I had come there for the same purpose. We became very close after then.

16. I have a phobia for death and I get scared of dying sometimes. I really want to leave a strong mark before I leave this world. So far, I haven’t.

17. I am very ambitious. I want to be so many things in future- Bestselling Author, Motivational Speaker, CBN Governor, Economic Consultant to the World Bank, President of Nigeria, Secretary-General of UNO etc. I crave for fame and fortune very much.

18. I am addicted to mobile phone games like being addicted to drugs. I could tap my phone's keys for twenty four hours straight if given the chance and that's why I constantly have low phone batteries.

19. Having a daughter has made me more mature about life. There is a great deal of contrast between my life now and my life barely three years ago.

20. I was born in Liverpool, U.K and spent six months there before returning to Nigeria with my parents. Ever since, I’ve not gone back and I sometimes wonder if I was actually born there. The British Embassy has not even helped matters. They have denied me a British Passport and Visa so many times that I am not even interested in going to the U.K anymore.

21. My parents separated when I was nine and I try to convince myself that their break-up has not affected or influenced me but something inside tells me it has.

22. I am daring and adventurous. I think unimaginable and ridiculous stuff and sometimes I actually do them only to regret badly later on.

23. I find it so hard to pretend in order to please people. Whenever I try it, I hate myself.

24. I like being with like-minded people. I find it easy to get bored with people who seem not to add any value to my life.

25. I have a dream to live till ninety and die peacefully in my sleep after a good meal.

So that’s me: all live and naked. I still have my boxers on though. Of course, there’s more about me but that would mean stripping off my last piece of clothing. Now, you don’t want that, do you? lol. I’m passing this award to:

1. Femi B
2. Spicytee
3. Simeone
4. Bumight(I'd be surprised if she doesn't already have like ten of these. lol)
5. Uzezi
6. Qmoney
7. Writefreak

Meanwhile, on the ‘25 ISSUES I HAVE’ TAG, I am tagging the following bloggers:

1. Aloted
2. Beauty (I'm not sure he would do this but maybe he would)
3. Bibi
4. Olufunke

Thanks for your time. GEEBEE’S TRIP WILL CONTINUE IN THE NEXT POST.

PS- Please, don't forget about my project o. Advice, materials etc. are very welcome. Afterall, blogville is a family. No be so? Thanks

EPISODE 12 - TAKING THE PLUNGE

2009-03-21T12:17:00.000-07:00

Before I begin, I would like to make an announcement. The winners of Category A of the Naija Bloggers Award have been finally announced (Yes I know you knew. I just had to affirm it) and guess what? Geebee . . . DID NOT WIN. Arrrrrrrrrrrrgggghhhhhhhh! Bumight got the award for BEST STUDENT BLOGGER, thereby showing that all my 'polongo' and campaigning was in vain. Oh it hurts real bad and I'm looking for bumight o. Let her run as fast as her legs can carry her . . .lol. Seriously now, bumight is a household name in blogsville and I almost knew she was going to clinch that one right from the start and I must say being nominated in thesame category with bumight was indeed a great honour for me. Congrats again, Sis (sniffs and sobs)and congrats to all winners as well and thumbs up to Sting, JustToluwa and the rest of the crew of Naijabloggersawards. You guys are just super! Well, well, like they say, there's always medicine for pain and I got mine quite well. Geebee was nominated yet again in category B and in TWO categories . . . EPISTLE BLOGGER (i.e. blogger who writes long posts. Do I?) and FAVOURITE NEWBIE BLOGGER (Hmmm, I was actually tipping and backing Enkay up for that one. It's all good sha). I know these are categories under the 'weird' and 'funny' acronym but I DON'T CARE! I must win this time or nobody will sleep again on blogsville o. I must win o and I'm sure bumight will gladly compensate me by pushing buttons on this one. I can see her nodding her head in fact. Sis, how's the e-pregnancy going? I'm up against your e-babydad, Doug in one category so how we go do am now? Wao, one would think I was campaigning for President or hustling to win at the Grammys. Yes o. It's that serious. Afterall, people I look up to like Fineboy Agbero and Vera did worse 'vexed' campaigns and won so why not Geebee. Anyways, please (Okay I dey beg now o) go and vote for Geebee and your other favourite bloggers by clicking HERE Thank you.

Now that I'm sure you guys are screaming 'Geebee for President (sorry I meant . . . ), let's do Episode 12 - Taking the Plunge. Welcome on board.

Madam L's one thousand naira went a long way. I was quite thrilled by the fact that this woman gave me that much on first contact and I was sure there was a lot more where that came from. This was in 2004, remember. It wasn't as if Chief never gave me enough money. In fact, he did but he never ever gave me one thousand naira for a transport fare that would take fifty naira or less back then. The next day, I was at Madam L's doorstep at a minute to ten and getting the location proved quite easy. I had to behold Madam L's abode from outside for a while before venturing in and I could hardly hide my admiration at this wonderful edifice. It was indeed a magnificient building. The interior of the building made the exterior look like a pauper's deal. I could practically taste the money. From the leather settees, the LCD screen (quite uncommon in 2004), the mini bar, the accessories etc, I could visualize the 'good life' in its entirety. Of course I was not from a poor home. My dad was quite very comfortable by normal standards but I had to admit this was a lot better.
"Geebee,how are you?" my new student said, beaming with smiles. Suddenly she looked so beautiful and for a minute I forgot she was the forty-something-year-old-looking-twenty-nine-year-old.
"I'm . . . I'm okay" I managed to say and wondered why I was suddenly stuttering.
"What should I offer you?" she asked as she walked towards the giant refridgerator at the passage. I noticed her backside and observed that she did not seem to be wearing any thing underneath the gown to protect that region. A shiver ran through my spine and I found it pretty difficult to breathe. A little time must have passed as her full figure filled my view and jolted me back to reality as I realised she was right in front of me bending to serve the juice she had brought into a glass.
"Are you okay, Geebee?" she asked concernedly and I felt instantly ashamed that I was making such a fool of myself. What the hell was I thinking? I wondered angrily.
"I'm okay, Madam L," I said, managing a smile.
"Okay o." she said as she took a seat on one of the leather seats nearby. Her perfume filled the air and I felt like choking. Somehow, the scent was not too pleasant to my nostrils. I began to sip my juice, trying to compose myself in the best way I could.
We were silent for a good while and it was frustrating. I was out of words and she did not seem to be helping matters by keeping quiet and seating so close by. I constantly assured myself that I couldn't possibly be interested in this woman. One, she was older than me by far. Two, she was married. Three, she had kids. Four, my dad would kill me if he ever got wind of me doing any thing stupid with a married woman. Five, it was plain stupid to even think of doing such . . . the list in my head was endless . . . but the silence was killing and someone had to break this damned ice. I summoned up the courage.
"So how's the family ma?" I asked casually
I noticed the slight frown on her face again and I was sure right then she did not like the 'ma' word. She proved it almost immediately.
"Geebee, first thing. I don't like you calling me 'ma'. We're both students, remember. My name is Lovina. Call me Lovina."
"But everyone calls you madam L," I challenged playfully.
"I know but you can call me Lovina or anything but don't use 'ma' for me."
"Okay, no problem." I concurred.
Within a few minutes, I had totally forgotten I was there to put her through on her weak courses. She did not seem to remember either. I felt more relaxed and on her probing, I took some liquor. I guess that sorta boosted my confidence then. We talked about a lot of things, ranging from lecturers to nasty students to movies (she loved Nigerian movies and I hated them) and finally we talked about family. She was so touched when I told her my parents were separated and I had a step mom. I was surprised I was letting out my frustrations so freely to this woman. She had a listening ear and that further made me tell her so much about me. She also talked about herself, telling me she got married at seventeen against her wish, had five kids, the oldest was fourteen and the youngest was two. I wondered then how a twenty-nine year old woman would have a child of fourteen and claim to have gotten married at seventeen. I buried the thought immediately. She also talked about how her husband mistreated her and slept around with women, beat her often and how she was tired of her marriage but was staying in it for her children's sake etc etc. She had a more touching story and at a point she broke into tears. I was so moved and without thinking I went to sit beside her and pulled her to myself. She sobbed for a good while in my arms and I could feel my groin hardening and my heart racing at an alarming speed. Right then, I knew this woman would never be 'just my student' and I prayed silently for the strength to do the right thing. My spirit was very much willing and I hoped my flesh would not be weak.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE'S TRIP.

Meanwhile, I have not forgotten about the '25 issues I have' tag I got from simeone. Big ups bro. I'll do that in my next post. Thank you

EPISODE 11 – FREE DINNER

2009-03-12T07:35:00.000-07:00

Welcome back to Geebee’s Trip. I guess I should apologize for the previous distraction occasioned by the naijabloggersaward frenzy. Voting is still on till 16th of March, that’s Monday by my calculations so feel free to vote by clicking here. It will take you directly to the voting page and do not forget to vote for Geebee as BEST STUDENT BLOGGER. I’m trying to discuss with my fellow contenders – bumight, exschoolnerd, mizchif and nosa101 to step down for me. I think bumight has agreed though. lol. Now let’s leave the award thing aside and talk business. Welcome to Episode 11 of Geebee’s Trip.

Exams were fast approaching and it felt pretty amusing to notice the seriousness on everyone’s face, well not everyone actually but most. It was obvious no one wanted to fail the first examination in University and even the seemingly unserious and ‘dumb’ ones had to parley with those they felt would be able to help them with one or two things before and during the examinations. I didn’t mind the parleys I got so long as they wanted help ‘before’ the exams. As for the ‘during’ aspect, I definitely had my strong and candid reservations. I believe I am a daring guy who’s done a couple of daring stuff but when it comes to doing such daring stuff in exams or school work, my ‘liver’ fails me like crazy. Somehow I’ve never been good at the ‘expo’ or exam malpractice thing right from secondary school days. It might sound funny but as at that time, I had never asked anyone for answers during exams or ever attempted to cheat during a test or an examination. In fact, the minute I think of trying to pass a paper or do anything fishy during an exam, an alarm goes off in my head and my heart begins to beat at 120/second or more so I never ever gave it a thought. Things have changed now though especially after spending a good number of years in University. I do some daring stuff now but there are limits . . . one of such is carrying ‘chips’ into the examination hall. Lai lai! I continued to do offer the ‘before exams’ assistance I could render to my peers who came around and it was in the process I met a woman called Madam L.

Madam L was one of the older students. It wasn’t quite unusual since it was a part-time institution and in her case, she seemed to be one of the ‘older’ ones who wanted to feel ‘young. She made it all the more obvious with her mannerisms – she wore clothes meant for the ‘girls’, hung out with the younger people and did a lot of ‘show off’ probably just to prove that what the young can do, the old can do better. In fact, the adjective ‘old’ was totally out of her vocabulary. Madam L would tell you “I am not old. I just married early. Check my birth certificate. I’m just twenty nine.”
Now, that was so hard to believe especially since she had the looks of a forty year old, had five kids (did I hear some people say ‘I said it!’) and seemed much more experienced than any twenty nine year old could ever be. She was quite comfortable and drove a good car to school. She often displayed this by buying free lunch and dinners for her younger colleagues in class especially. She was the kind of woman you’d stalk knowing once she was anywhere near the school restaurant or mart and you bumped into her, you would get whatever you wanted – all you had to do was ask. It was pretty common to hear stuff like:
“Madam L, you look great. Let me have a drink on your bill now.”
“ Madam L, the madam, anything for your boy?”
“ Lady L, thank God you’re here. I guess I’d just keep my money.”
“Madam L, I’m hungry o.”
And Madam L always had the same answer for everyone: “No problem.”
In fact, many of my fellow younger students began to take advantage of her generous nature. I believe she was not that generous and her seeming generosity was in a bid to show off to the students or identify with them. Why do I think so? We got pretty close much later so I know. In terms of beauty, I wouldn’t call her particularly beautiful as she was more on the average side. I had known Madam L right from the beginning of the semester but I never actually related with her on a one-on-one basis. I still hated the fact that I was stuck in a school meant for much more advanced people so I stuck to my set – the younger generation. Thankfully, we outnumbered the older ones. It was about two weeks to my first paper when Madam L actually approached me.
“Geebee, how are you?” she said casually.
“Hey Madam L, I’m good. How are you ma?” I replied and at once noticed her irritation probably at my use of the ‘ma’ title.
“I’m okay o. I heard you’re the new lecturer around” she said smiling.
“Lecturer ke? No, I just do the little I can,” I said in feigned humility. In truth, I was elated that she actually thought of me that way.
“Anyway, I won’t mind if you can help me with topics in FMS 110.”
“Really,” I said. “It’s okay. What topics in particular do you have problems with?”
The woman smiled again revealing some wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. I thought of her age claim again and smiled inwardly. Twenty-nine indeed!
“I will be honest with you, Geebee. Everything!”
“Wao. Well, I’ll see what I can do.” I said, wondering what she had been doing while the lecturer was doing his thing that she had not been able to grasp one single topic.
“Do you work?” she asked,
I hesitated before replying in the negative.
“Maybe you can come to my house to teach me then,” she said in a tone that showed she was sure I would agree. Somehow, I could not refuse. What excuse would I have given by the way? Besides, I did not think of the possibility of anything wrong happening so I simply shrugged and agreed. She seemed delighted.
“Thanks Geebee. I appreciate this very much” she said with the obvious gratitude visible in her countenance.
“It’s okay.” I said, smiling. “When do you want me to come?”
“Tomorrow morning, nko?”
“Okay then. I’ll be there by ten o’clock.”
“By the way, have you eaten?” she asked.
I wanted to protest but Madam L would have none of it. That evening, I got a free dinner courtesy of this woman and she made sure I had enough to make sure I didn’t need to eat the dinner at home. Before leaving Madam L reached into her bag and placed something in my hand.
“Use it for your transport,” she said as she walked off. “See you tomorrow.”
I opened my hand and in there was a one thousand naira note. I could hardly contain my joy. I had hit the jackpot, I decided.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP!

BREAKING NEWS!!! 'BEST STUDENT BLOGGER' NOMINATION

2009-03-06T08:28:00.000-08:00

BREAKING NEWS!!! GEEBEE HAS BEEN NOMINATED FOR 'BEST STUDENT BLOGGER' ON THE NAIJABLOGGERSAWARDS. Thank you blogville for your nominations. PLEASE SHOW THIS BROVA SOME MORE LOVE AND VOTE FOR HIM! Click here or click on the award link on this page to vote. Voting begins at 12 midnight 6th March. THANKS!

Scroll down to enjoy Geebee's Trip's most recent episodes.

EPISODE 10 – SIMON GOES TO SCHOOL

2009-03-02T05:59:00.000-08:00

In the last episode, I talked about Simon and almost everyone who dropped a comment has been raining fire and brimstone on a poor innocent me for attempting to corrupt Simon. I’ll prove all y’all wrong with one saying: “You can force a horse to the water but you CANNOT force that horse to drink.” Note the emphasis on ‘cannot.’ In simple words, you can drag the horse to the water and if you like push the horse’s head into the river . . . but if the horse does not want to drink, man, you’re on your own o. You can even forcefully open the horse’s mouth and pour the water in it but if it still does not wish to drink, you’re still OYO. In fact, I promise you by then, the horse would have ‘kicked’ the living daylights out of you. Now, let’s call this horse, Simon. The only reason why Simon would drink that water is if he decides to and no matter what Geebee does, it’s still Simon’s choice.

I managed to stop laughing when Simon told me that he was a virgin and I decided he would have the taste on that day.
‘Okay, let’s go then,” I urged.
“Hold up,” my friend said hesitantly. “What are we going to do there? I mean how do I introduce myself or talk to them . . . the prostitutes.”
I wanted to slap him silly but I restrained myself. Imagine talking about introducing himself to a prostitute. I could almost visualize the scenario.
My guy walks up to the chewing-gum-chewing whore clad in top that was hardly bigger than a handkerchief and wearing a mini skirt that was hardly different from panties . . . “Hello,” he says. “I’m Simon. Nice to meet you. May I know your name? I’m actually here to have sex with you but I have not done this before and if I must say, you’ve got a nice body . . . and bla bla” For cying out loud, what was my guy thinking?
“No, you won’t introduce yourself, okay!” I lashed out impatiently. “You simply walk up to any of the whores you like and say “How far?”
“Just that?” he asked more confused than ever.
“Yes. Just that. She’ll understand and take you straight to her room and you’ll pay her and do your thing.”
“Honestly, Geebee, I’m not comfortable with this,” he said, the fear in his eyes as visible as the rising sun.
“Let’s go then” I said. “Just follow my lead.”
We were at the red light district in less than five minutes and from the look on Simon’s face, it was obvious he had never seen so many ‘jezebels’ all at once. We entered the brothel and almost immediately, two girls tugged at my arm and two others tugged at Simon.
“Fine boy, how now? Make we go my room. I go do you fine oh.”
“Na small money I dey collect but my action super. You go even collect my number sef.”
They spat out the tempting words desperately and a novice would have had a hard time in making a choice among all these ‘forbidden fruits.’
I turned to stare at Simon and silently prayed his heart would not explode in his chest. Finally, I did the selection. One girl for me and one girl for Simon. I winked at my friend and went with the whore I had chosen for myself.
“Let’s meet outside when you’re through,” I said as I winked at my friend again. He looked like he would have a heart attack but I was less concerned especially since I knew he would feel a lot better when next I saw him. Besides he would have broken free off the bondage of virginity or so I thought.

About thirty minutes I was through with ‘my business’ and I came out of the brothel. I saw Simon standing outside as agreed and I couldn’t help smiling. My guy was free at last.
“What’s up man? How was it?” I asked him, smiling mischievously.
He sighed. “I couldn’t,” he simply said.
“You couldn’t what?” I said, wondering if he meant he couldn’t ‘get it up’ or he couldn’t ‘come.’
“I couldn’t do it. Maybe it’s not the right time.”
I stood rooted to the spot for a minute as I watched my friend walk ahead in total dejection. My heart went out to him.

I never brought up the issue again after then and we continued our friendship as though such a thing never happened. Simon later broke the jinx a few months later and his joy knew no bounds. It was as though he had won a lottery of five million dollars. As expected, I was the first person he broke the news to and according to him, it was the best experience of his life. I was indeed happy for him and I silently thanked God that I had no hand in the final act even though he still insists I ‘spoilt’ him and it appears so many of my readers agree with him. What made it very special was the fact that it wasn’t a prostitute he had the first act with but a girl whom he came to love so much for a good while.

On the home front all this while, my dad and my step mom continued to try to be the best they could be, even though I could sense a tension between them. The marriage did not seem to be working out and in spite of how hard they tried to hide this fact; I could see the reality clearly. I continued to wish I could leave home for good. The hunger for freedom was still very much alive in me. I traveled on a few occasions to see my mum and friends in other Universities (especially O.A.U, Ife. Somehow I could not get over not being admitted into Great Ife). Back in school, academics was going on smoothly and we began preparing for our first semester examinations- my first examination as a University student. The tests had been cool and I had been able to carve a niche as one of the ‘brains’ in my class and in fact in the school (it was easy to become popular since the school was pretty small at the time) but this was an examination and I was determined to grab the whole 5 point G.P.A if possible. This period also proved to be a time when colleagues in school tended to get closer to the brilliant ones hoping for one favour or the other. I got my own share of the closeness and one particular woman came into the picture and this opened a whole new chapter in my life – a dangerous chapter that spanned many months. I met Madam L.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP!

EPISODE 9 – A BOY CALLED SIMON

2009-02-23T06:17:00.000-08:00

I guess I deserve a ‘Welcome back’ from myself to myself from the ‘tag break’ and it seems I’m going to be taking another tag break pretty soon. I got tagged again by simeone in the ‘25 issues I have’ tag and I’m starting to see the reason behind the saying ‘Be careful what you wish for.’ I wished for the tags and they’re pouring in plenty plenty and holding up my episodes of ‘Geebee’s Trip.’ No wahala sha, I’ll definitely do this one even though it might take a little while. Geebee’s Trip must continue.

First I should respond to the ‘2 truths and 1 lie meme.’ I’m glad the responses poured in from you folks and I really proved that I wasn’t a good liar afterall. Quite a number of you got the lie right but I wouldn’t be able to do the analysis of the ‘correct’ and incorrect ones now like I saw on FFF's blog. Let’s hear the truths and the lies now.

1. I once slept with a mother of five – TRUE. This happened sometime in 2004-2005. Yeah, I know it sounds crazy and you should crucify me and stone me to death for this one but then it is the Lord that forgives, right? Doug, I am Godfearing o but I guess the devil was in charge as at the time this happened. Sometimes in life, we make a lot of mistakes and wish we could undo them but then the past is past. I would be talking about this one later on in subsequent episodes of ‘Geebee’s Trip’ and you’ll see how easy it is to fall into temptation and do things you’d never imagine you could do. More on this later. Hope y’all forgive me for this.

2. I once broke up with my girlfriend because I didn’t want to spend money on Valentine’s Day – LIE. Money has never been an object when it comes to my relationships. I have never tried to impress a girl with money. I'd simply tell a girl how well I am financially and if she's not going to stay because of that, then it's her loss. So far, I've never had such money wahala with any girl before. I have been broke on a coupl’a Valentine days but that has never been a reason for me to want to break up with a girl or something. Those of you who thought this was true (Rita, StandTall, Spicytee, Enkay etc.), no I didn’t. Now, some of you guys figured this out easy enough. Big ups to solomonsydelle, NoLimit and simeone. Now, how did you guys figure this one out? Does that mean you already believed # 1 was true? Haba, so you believe a poor innocent soul like me could commit such an atrocity. Anyways, nice one.

3. I made the first journey in life in a ship- TRUE. I was born in Liverpool, U.K in 1985 where my parents were students at the time, having been resident for about two years before then. I spent the first six months of my life there and on the return journey to Nigeria, we had so much luggage that an air ticket plus luggage charges would have been ridiculous so my folks took the option of traveling by ship and we spent almost two weeks before touching down at Apapa (so I heard). Thank God I never had that sea-sickness that my parents and so many others on board had. I think two people on board that ship actually died of sea sickness.

So, that’s that. Wao, took a while. Are we headed for another long post? I’ll try to make the remainder short. Here’s Episode 9 of Geebee’s Trip.

EPISODE 9 – A BOY CALLED SIMON
In Episode 8, I introduced Simon, my new ‘bolo’ friend. ‘Bolo’ is another name for ‘ajebota’ or ‘unexposed’ or ‘person wey neva soji.’ Let’s leave it at that. Now, I had never had the luxury of having my own pad, my own place. Simon on the other hand felt so lonely, being away from his parents’ shelter and on his own for the first time in his life. I constantly wished I could trade places with Simon and the thoughts of things I could do given that opportunity always sent shivers of ecstasy down my spine. I started spending a lot of time with my new friend. I’d pop out of the house once I had breakfast and be at Simon’s place till evening when it was time for lectures and then we’d leave together. However, I could not bring myself to sleeping at his place despite his pleas. My dad would have poured fire and brimstone.

Back in 2004, my friend, Simon was not really the academically smart type so I did my bit in explaining some of the school work and difficult problems to him and that further endeared him to me. However, like they say, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. I was already into a whole lot of vices at the time. I drank, smoked, partied and even did the most evil thing – I patronized prostitutes. Simon was always too boring when it came to such youthful exuberance matters. Deep down nevertheless, I sensed a boy who wanted to explore and fly but was too scared to. He often assumed the stance of a bad boy to the outside world but I was the only one he could show his real self to. This trusting nature of his further touched me and I decided I would help this boy the best way I could. Now, I wonder if ‘help’ actually meant teaching him bad stuff. The first point of call was the ‘virginity issue.’ I was shell-shocked when Simon told me he was a virgin. On that fateful day, I had some extra change and since I had no girlfriend I decided I needed to get laid before heading home after school. There was a secluded brothel I had discovered a few months before. I casually asked my friend to accompany me.
“Where are you going?” Simon asked concernedly.
“Somewhere” I replied. “Actually, it’s a brothel.”
He looked confused. “Brothel? Or you mean hotel.”
“Whatever,” I said “It’s an ashewo joint.” I said matter-of-factly.
The shock in his eyes almost had me slapping him. “Ah, it’s a sin o.”
“Of course it’s a sin” I retorted, “And that’s why we pray for forgiveness. We sin everyday. A sin is a sin. Killing someone or cursing someone and going to fuck ashewo is all the same thing before God.” I knew I was wrong but I needed to act defensive.
‘Men, I’m shocked o.” Simon said.
I shrugged. “It does not matter. If I had a girlfriend, I won’t be doing this.” I further said. “It’s just like sleeping with your girlfriend, only that you have to pay for it.”
“Men, you are a bad boy o,” Simon said grinning and shaking his head.
“You mean you’ve not slept with a girl before,” I asked hoping he’d tell me he had done it before.
“Of course I have,” he said and I sighed with relief. There’s a kind of good feeling that beclouds you when you find out you’re not the only one doing a wrong thing. I guess that’s what I felt right then. We walked on in silence for a while before Simon spoke again.
“Geebee,” he said.
“What’s up?” I replied casually.
“Don’t tell anyone I told you this.”
“What?” I said, wondering if he was going to tell me he had AIDS. I decided instantly that if that was the case, then I’d run for my life. At that time, I guess I almost believed AIDS could be passed simply by touching.
“I’ve not had sex before.” Simon said looking ashamed.
All I could do was laugh. “You mean you’re a virgin!”
“Yes, I’m a virgin.”
I laughed a little longer. That day was his lucky day, I decided.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’S TRIP!

MY TAGS – ‘QUESTION AND ANSWER’/ 2 TRUTHS, 1 LIE MEME/ THIS SPECIAL VALENTINE.

2009-02-13T12:43:00.000-08:00

This is gonna be one very long post. I hope you have the patience. Patience is a strong virtue, remember and if you’ve got it then you’re closer to God than many others. I shall be doing a lot of stuff on this one. First, I’ll be doing my tags – the ‘Question and Answer’ tag from Buttercup and then another tag, the much dreaded ‘2 truths, 1 lie meme.’ I got this one from Enkay. Big ups sis. How’s ‘Blogtopia’ treating you? I’ll also be talking about the latest event – Valentine’s Day. Then I still got to do the regular Geebee’s trip episode. I’ll be doing Episode 9 - A BOY CALLED SIMON. On second thought, I think it’d be better I defer this episode till later so I could get your feel on the tags first. Sorry for any disappointments for those looking forward to the episodes but you can be sure I’ll do the thing as soon as possible. So, let’s go straight to the tags.

‘QUESTION AND ANSWER’ TAG

Q & A.

where is your cell phone? Pocket.

where is your significant other? Nigeria

your hair color? Black

your mother? Supermum

your father? Indescribable

your favorite thing? Wristwatches

your dream last night? Didn’t

your dream/goal? Fulfilment

the room you're in? Office

your hobby? Writing

where do you want to be in 6 years? Eldorado

where were you last night? Home

what you're not? Pretender

one of your wish list items? Yacht

where you grew up? Lagos

the last thing you did? Sneezed

what are you wearing? Shirt

your tv? Off

your pet? Cleopatra

your computer? Compaq

your mood? Excited

missing someone? Sure

your car? Footwagen

something you're not wearing? Underpants

favorite store? None

your summer? Refreshing

love someone? Yeah

your favorite color? Black

when is the last time you laughed? Now

last time you cried? 2008

are you a b*tch? Nah

favorite past time? Shoesalesman

are you a hater or a lover? Both

are you genuine or fake? Genuine

any vices? Numerous

pro life or wire hanger? Life

mccain or obama? Obama

pro plastic or natural? Natural

dream job? President

Q & A TAG RULES

1. All Answers To Each Question Must Be In ‘ONE WORD.’ Funny enough, my ‘tagger’, Buttercup broke that rule so badly. lol. Not that I blame her though. I wonder how those who made the rule would expect one to answer questions that ordinarily require detailed answers in just one word. Anyways I tried my best not to break that rule even though I wish I could be as explicit as possible in my answers.

2. Link the person who tagged you (I’ve already done that!) and pass the tag along to seven people. I’m passing this to:

- Enkay
- Shona
- wellsbaba
- Femi b
- Tommeh
- Emeka Amakeze
- Iwalewa

I seriously hoped none of them have gotten this particular tag though. It’s pretty difficult to keep tabs on those who have been tagged or not these days.

‘2 TRUTHS, 1 LIE’ MEME
As noted earlier, I got this one from Enkay. I must say I am not a very good liar. Somehow, I always get caught and I won’t be surprised if I get caught on this one by all o’ y’all. So, let’s see how smart you guys are: Here are three statements of which two are true and one is a lie.

1. I once slept with a mother of five.

2. I once broke up with my girlfriend because I didn’t want to spend money on Valentine’s Day.

3. I made the first journey in life in a ship.

So, there you go. Sounds pretty easy, right? Like I said before, moi ain’t no good liar. Let me have your feel on this.

That’s that for the tags. Let’s talk about Valentine’s Day, the event that has almost become more popular than Christmas in recent times. The D-day is not just around the corner. It is actually right at your front door and staring you in the face. I wouldn’t be surprised if Naija people soon begin to push for a declaration of February 14 as a public holiday. I remember in Obasanjo’s era, we usually had like twenty-something public holidays every year and I wonder why the man did not simply declare February 14 as one of the holidays since he seemed to love declaring holidays so much. Well, this year’s Valentine’s Day is very much different, especially because it falls on a Saturday. I remember the last time Val’s day fell on a Saturday was in 2004 and that was when I had my first and most irritating Valentine’s Day especially because I had to mark the day with a girl I wasn’t too comfortable with at the time. Well, well, past tense, they say. However, that event kindled in me a desire. I decided I would like to get married on a Valentine’s Day and since weddings are usually fixed on Saturdays, I had to decide between February 14, 2009 or February 14, 2015 (that’s the next Saturday Val’s day) and the latter seems to be the best choice at the moment. I’ll be about 29 then so what the hell? Perfect timing. My daughter would be about eight and she’d most definitely make a perfect little bride especially if I’ll be getting married to her mom. I really hope so but one hurdle remains . . . Can my babymama wait? You know that thing women say about age catching up with them fast and stuff like that. There’s a whole lot behind this story and I hope to share most of it in future episodes of Geebee’s Trip. Anyways, I’ve not had such pressing discussions yet with her and I really wouldn’t want to bug myself with such thoughts now. Come to think of it, 2015 is really not far away. Now, did someone say I’m selfish? Hmmm, please don’t judge me if you don’t know me (Tupac’s lines. How e take talk am sef?).

So long for Valentine’s Day. At the moment, I still have no definite plans except that I’ll have fun tomorrow and I’ll be with just one girl – My babymama (who else?). As for those of you who are single-and-desperately-searching, just assume you have the Lord Jesus Christ as your val for this year and hopefully, he’ll provide you with someone you can truly love by this time next year. For those who decided to break up with their girlfriends or boyfriends just when February 14 was around the corner for ‘reasons best known to them’, na wa for una o.Who says love is not sweet. Even D’banj, the crazy kokomaster and woman wrapper had to confess ‘You don make me fall in love.’ Wishing you all a wonderful Valentine celebration. Hope you guys are gonna let me know how it went. GEEBEE’S TRIP WILL BE BACK SHORTLY.

EPISODE 8 – THE BUILDING DESIRE [OF A CAGED BIRD] TO FLY

2009-02-04T06:36:00.000-08:00

Time has begun its speedy drift again and I can hardly help being amazed at this speed. On Sunday morning, I woke up to realize that it’s February 1st. It’s so hard to imagine that one full month has gone by already. In fact, 2009 still feels pretty new to me. I know this because I still make mistakes in writing my dates. For instance, I was at one of the Oceanic bank branches yesterday to pay in some money into my account (Yes o! I save money too and don’t bother about how much I put in this time?). I had filled in the necessary details on the deposit slip and passed it on to the cashier so I waited impatiently for the formalities of confirmation and stamping and all those funny stuff they do in banks. A few seconds had passed when the pretty cashier called my attention to correct the error on my slip. It was then I realized I had written 03/02/08 instead of 03/02/09. Trust me; I have made this error at least twenty times this year. Well, well, time does fly and sharp, sharp, it’s already February!

I just hit one of my first blogville milestones recently. I GOT TAGGED! Yes, I got tagged by Buttercup and I’m still basking in that euphoria. Really, it might not seem like a big deal to many of you but it is to me. I remember times when I’d do posts and get no comments, sometimes one or two comments and I’d be like wao. Now, I get a few more and I’m still like hmmm, cool. Now, it’s a tag. Shows I’m making some progress, uh? Let’s hope the tags keep coming and who said getting a blogger award soon would be a bad thing? Don’t mind me. I’m just flirting with myself. Well, the tag is the ‘Question and Answer’ tag and I’ll be responding pretty soon. I promised to do it in this post but due to some factors, I wouldn’t be able to do it until the next post . . . Promise! Hope y’all stay tuned. Once again, thanks for the tag, Buttercup. How’s Chari? Abeg, no too miss am oh. Easy easy, sista.

Now, let’s talk about today’s episode – THE BUILDING DESIRE [OF A CAGED BIRD] TO FLY. The title reminds me of Nefertiti. Yeah, she’s the caged bird, right? But now, the caged bird here refers to me back in early 2004. Finally, I had settled in as a student of Economics in Lagos State University, Lekki Campus. It was a part time programme, remember. The excitement was indeed in the air at first but soon wore off as the weeks and months ran by. Lectures started, we had orientation programmes and it was pretty amusing watching the ‘thirty-something and forty something year old students’ trying to feel cool and acquainted with the little ones like me. I resolved to make academic excellence my priority but have fun nonetheless and like I said in the last episode, there were a good number of folks like me who wanted to have fun as well. It did not take too long to make friends and probably because I was one of the guys who caught on easily what the lecturers had to say, I had people wanting to get close to me. The attention felt good, I must confess – especially from the girls but somehow none of them seemed interested in me beyond the ‘book thing.’ It was all about “Geebee, can you explain those Statistics questions to me again?” or “Geebee, thanks for the other time but if you’re free, can you help me with that Economic Mathematics problem?” Yes, it felt good to have cute girls sit close to you while you taught them, but I wished then that I had them saying stuff like “ Geebee, do you have a girlfriend?” or “Geebee, why don’t we go out sometime?” You know the drill.
However, I continued to roll with the times and somehow I always wished school time could be longer. We had just four hours of lectures every week day from five p.m to nine p.m and that meant I spent the entire morning and afternoon period at home doing nothing! It was suffocating. I was almost nineteen and I was stiff bored with life again. I could hardly wait for evenings everyday and I spent the entire weekend praying for Monday to come so I could go back to ‘explaining economic and mathematical questions to the cute girls’ in school.

Back at the homefront, life wasn’t at its best. I had to wake up every morning and wash Dad and Cyan’s cars, have my breakfast and later, lunch and hang around with movies or my books till four p.m when I would prepare for school. I hardly felt like a University student whenever I was home. The housemaids continued to come and go but they didn’t seem to appeal to me anymore like they did back then when I was desperate to get into University. Liz and Elfy had since left the house; Liz to U.K to join her fiancé and Elfy to her own apartment somewhere I never ever knew. I sometimes recalled the crazy periods when I used to peep through keyholes to watch them have their baths and I would smile, but the smiles were always momentary. I was now grown up and those things seemed to me as stupid childish indulgence. I began to wish again and again that I had been admitted in a full-time institution or at least somewhere not too close to my home. By then, BD was already in final year in Ambrose Alli University, Ekpoma and Sean was with my mum in Akure, preparing to resume in University of Benin whereas I was stuck at home with Chief and getting treated like a ‘last born.’ I realized I needed to fly. I decided to get a job – something that would see me spending less time at home. I was sure with that, I would gain more respect from my folks and the ‘part-time’ experience would be less bearable. Whilst I dropped resumes and applications all over and waited for a flimsy job offer, I spent more time hanging out with my new friend, Simon.

Now, Simon was the new guy who was out of his parents’ grips for the first time. He had come to LASU, Lekki Campus all the way from Festac town and due to the distance, his folks had arranged an accommodation for him. It was just a one room apartment but I would have killed to get that opportunity. I knew there was no way on earth Chief would agree to my renting a place outside home when my school was just ten minutes drive away! I could not even dream of spending a single night outside my house. What reason would I have given? Simon was the luckiest guy I knew as far as I was concerned but the funny thing was, he was the most innocent guy I had ever met as well. He was a guy who had never done anything bad in his entire life – never smoked, drank or womanized – three things every young guy should have done at one time or the other. We were more like worlds apart in terms of personalities but there was one problem- He looked up to me and wanted me for a friend. On the other hand, I needed freedom. I needed to fly. It was an offer worth taking. I knew I needed no protégé but then it felt good to have one. The relationship soon proved to be a symbiotic one and helped me in achieving my plan – to fly out of my cage soon. By then, it was March 2004.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’s TRIP!

EPISODE 7- THE THING ABOUT MATURITY

2009-01-26T06:11:00.000-08:00

These days, I have seen certain things that make me wonder how little kids mature so fast. Back then, when I was in secondary school, it appeared the maturing process was somewhat slower compared with these days. Some of my mates back then didn’t have beards or even the slightest trace of it until after we left secondary school. As for the girls, only very few could actually boast of full breasts back then and come to think of it, most of us back then were fifteen, sixteen and seventeen year olds then. Today however, it’s been a totally different ball game. You see secondary school students looking like macho men and the girls looking like mothers of two with everything ‘ripe and ready to drop.’ The language that even proceeds out of their mouths leave you almost closing your ears. Sometime last week, I stopped to buy oranges on my way from work when I heard a conversation between one of these school girls and an older man.

Girl- Bros, me sef I go lick orange o. Buy for me na.
Man- (smiling as he stared at the girl’s heavy bosom) You wan lick orange? Upon those two big oranges wey you carry for there.
Girl- Na so now. As me I get orange for here na so you sef carry banana for there (points towards his groin area).

I could hardly contain my disgust especially with the way people around laughed and the ‘agbaya’ of a guy grinned from ear to ear like the big loser he was. I bought my oranges and moved on and wondered curiously as I walked on. Forget the big bosom and all, that girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen! Wonders shall never end. Now, to Episode 7 of GEEBEE’S TRIP.

I was so glad when the admission list came out and I could hardly wait to resume lectures as a full University student. It hardly mattered to me that it was a part-time school and so I would miss most of the pecks and razz-mataaz associated with a full time institution. All that mattered to me was the fact that I was now a University student. At eighteen plus, I felt I was too old. Again, time went by pretty fast and within two months, we had resumed. The first discouraging factor on resumption was the school premises and the lecture period. We resumed in a secondary school building and lectures were fixed for evenings. We couldn’t even boast of a motion ground like the ones I had seen in O.A.U. In fact, O.A.U, Ife could have swallowed my school a thousand times over! It was then I understood the true meaning of ‘part-time.’ It was a general assumption that most of the part-time students would be workers and as such, the best time for lectures was in the evenings or during weekends. Again, my impatience got the better part of me and I decided to ignore the pitiable factor. I believed it would be worth my while. The first day of lectures proved to be a real eye-opener. A good number of students turned up. We must have been about three hundred or thereabout on that day but it was so shocking to see that about half of the total population were adults – men and women old enough to be my parents! What kind of education were these old folks looking for at such old age? I wondered in horror. I realized I wasn’t even half as mature as I thought. I was just a kid! It felt absurd though because I knew of eighteen year olds who were already in their second and third years in other Universities but alas, this was a part-time institution – reserved for the old and busy and not for young folks like me. I didn’t belong here but what was I to do at that point? Write another JAMB? Olorun ma je!

Luckily, we had quite a good number of people within my age grade too but trust me; I couldn’t find anyone I was older than. In an instant, the feeling of being ‘too old’ became a feeling of being ‘far too young.’ I learnt I had something in common with the young ones like me. Like me, JAMB or their proposed Universities had dealt with them so badly and out of frustration; they had taken the part-time option. I met people who had stayed home for six, seven years writing JAMB or hoping to get into one University or the other. At the same time, I met men and women who had been married for years and who even had children in University who would graduate in a short while. I often wondered what a forty year old man or woman needed a Bachelor’s Degree for. With all these thoughts on my mind, I was truly humbled and resolved to make the best use of my time and enjoy my stay in University the best way I could. Fortunately, there were so many like-minded people and together, we resolved that we would create a fun-filled environment out of the so-called part-time University institution that had always been assumed was for old people who were too busy raising children and families and decided to go to University at the time they should be retiring or sending their kids to University. In spite of all the discouragements posed by the academic environment, it was not too difficult to see that there were a lot of beautiful girls and fun-loving guys around. I realized that it wouldn’t be so boring after all. All I needed to do was hook up with the right people. In no time, I did and that was the beginning of a totally dangerous adventure for me.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’s TRIP!

EPISODE 6 – ANSWERED PRAYERS

2009-01-14T06:28:00.000-08:00

Well, what should I say? It sure feels good to be back with ‘Geebee’s Trip.’ I remember the last episode before this one came sometime in the first week of December 2008 and then, there was an unfortunate incident that took the life of someone I know shortly before Christmas and I had to write about it, and then, we had the festivities . . . and I had to write on that as well (who didn’t?). Anyway, the series is back now and hopefully, we will have no further interruptions except need be, maybe if some UFOs eat up Nigeria’s satellite in space. I’d definitely want to talk about that.

In Episode 5, I talked about my experience in JAMB class and stuff with Beesla, U.J and the likes. It sure was a great experience back then but over time, the boy had to grow up and more things happen. Fast forward to July 2003. The waiting period from April when I wrote the JAMB/UME exams for the third time and the time the results came out in July was one hell of a time. It was boring and annoying and in between, I took up a job as a teacher in the smallest primary school I had ever seen. The school had about four rooms. Two classes shared a room each and took up about three rooms and the last room served as the Proprietress’ office cum school office cum store room cum every other thing the school didn’t have space for. Truth be told, that school was one helluva school. I was assigned to teach Primary 5 and I had to shout on top of my voice whenever I taught because the Primary 6 pupils whom we shared a room with were having classes at the same time. My pay package at the time was N3000 and oh, it seemed like a good deal of money back then. I was almost eighteen, bored and it felt good to earn money for the first time in my whole life. I guess I totally underestimated the situation when I started. I had hardly worked for two weeks when I fled. The proprietress felt very bad that I had to leave so soon. My ‘lie’ was convincing enough I guess. I had told her that I just received my admission letter and I had to resume University. I believe I said that in faith then. The woman was kind enough to give me half of my salary though.

By July ending, the JAMB/UME results came out and I scored 216. I was mad and furious at the same time. I had expected a score of about 290 or thereabout especially since Chief had gotten me into a special centre. It was very much obvious my score would never get me into O.A.U to study Economics and again, I began to consider other crazy options like Religious Studies or even Yoruba! As far as I was concerned, if I did not get into University that year, I would kill myself. I wrote so many poems during this period on how I wanted to commit suicide, how God was unfair, how much I hated life . . . lots of them. Sometimes, I turn to my poem book and smile when I see these poems. Really, it felt crazy back then and it was pretty easy to believe God wasn’t what He said he was. Sean, my younger brother just got out of school at that time and he scored 210 on his first attempt at JAMB/UME. Man! that made me much more furious. I was happy for him though but it hurt real bad to imagine that I had lost two years at home and my younger brother was about to catch up with me. Back then, such things mattered a great deal. It felt like repeating two classes in school and your juniors catching up with you while your peers move on. Alas, as I wondered what I would do next, a miracle happened. My dad came home one evening about two weeks later with a newspaper ad from which I learnt that Lagos State University was admitting students into its external stream. There was a campus in Lekki as well. My dad never even had to persuade me. I jumped at the offer instantly and the next day, I bought the form from the campus office. I had all the necessary qualifications and in no time, I submitted the completed forms. The rest of the time went by in top speed. We had entrance examinations that felt like JAMB and it was then I realized I really feared the so-called ‘Almighty JAMB.’ I did pretty well by my standards and when the results came out about a month later, my name was boldly written at the top of the list of those admitted to study Economics. My joy knew no bounds. Finally, my prayers had been answered. The fact that I should have gotten into University two years before hardly mattered at that moment. All that mattered to me right then was that I had finally been admitted into University to study a course I had always wanted - Economics! For me, that was the true definition of ‘answered prayers.’

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’s TRIP!

2009: WHAT DOES THE NEW YEAR HOLD?

2009-01-02T08:57:00.000-08:00

Before I start this post, let me do a little 4-line rhyme that sounds more like a prayer. Believe it or not, it works. I’ve been doing this every year since 2002 and my friends who get these messages on their mobile phones, email addresses and any other means all tell me they like the style. I guess it works for them. Mind you, it’s original, no copyright infringements allowed except with the permission of the writer (me). Lol.

In this year two-thousand-and-nine
May laughter and joy unspeakable be thine
May your days be bright and your sun continue to shine
And may the Almighty God continually keep you fine.

Hope y’all loved it and hope you said ‘Amen.’ Good. Now, to the real post.

I believe I should have done this post yesterday but somehow I could not step out of my house throughout the day. Yeah, pretty unusual you would say but that’s just what happened. It all still sounds quite funny to me. I spent half the day sleeping, thanks to the watch night service in mom’s church on 31st December. I spent the other half watching Season 4 of Prison Break and before you could say two-thousand-and-nine, it was night and there was no way I could go out anymore. Would you believe I did not even have my bath until eleven p.m or thereabout as I prepared to retire for the night? What a way to start a new year. In the past, I would have believed since I began my year that way, I would have a very ‘dirty’ year. So much for funny beliefs. By the way, I am still in Akure, Ondo State and time has been flying rather fast. I can hardly believe the holidays are over and work has got to start again. By His grace, I should be on my way back to Lagos on Sunday and back to normal life. Arrrrrrrrgh! Normal life! Normal is boring like fidodido would say but then, do we have a choice? Guess not.

I believe we have a lot to thank God for. Finally, we made it into 2009 and it’s like ‘what the hell?’ Time has begun its crazy speed again and it’s already the second day of the year. In fact, it’s far spent since it’s about 5.00pm right now. Tomorrow is 3rd and before you know what’s up, January is over, February, March . . . bla bla and then, it’s another new year. The whole scenario simply makes me want to see God and ask Him how he does these things. But then, it’s not just about the speed of time and stuff, what we should think about so strongly is about how much we have done with our time. What have you set out to achieve in time past? What were your goals in previous years? How many of such goals did you achieve? Have you procrastinated so much that it has virtually become a habit. I guess I am particularly guilty of this. I still have goals I made five years ago that still remain unattained. Why? Then I begin to highlight my excuses. Oh, they are numerous but are they actually worth it? No! Now, it’s 2009 and I’m seriously praying I achieve such goals this year and once I think, I begin to have shivers. What if I don’t achieve them again? What if I have such flimsy excuses again. It’s already three days into the year now (well, almost) and I’m so worried that the remaining three hundred and sixty two days would run so fast that by the time it’s 2010, I’ll still find myself in the same position. Then, only one thing comes to mind. I get on my knees and pray. I ask God for His grace and I believe he would grant me this grace to achieve all my goals this year. Then, something else comes up. I tell myself “After all, you’ve been asking for this grace year after year and yet, it’s still the same.” I sigh and tell myself. “It is well.”

Now, this tale may sound very much contradictory and funny but if you search yourself deeply, you might find yourself in this very situation and what have you been doing about it? Perhaps, your opinion might matter a lot and help me. Mine might help you as well. Like I said, I never ever stop asking for that grace and whenever the doubt creeps in, I tell myself, “It is well.” Perhaps that’s what has kept me going. Nonetheless, I am very sure this year is gonna be different from every other year. It is going to be the best year I ever had and every year I spend from now on will be better than the previous. Do you believe the same for yourself? Once again, HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL! WELCOME TO 2009!

GEEBEE’S TRIP WOULD CONTINUE IN THE NEXT POST. STAY TUNED!

REMINISCING ON 2008: GLAD TO BE ALIVE

2008-12-24T07:47:00.000-08:00

This post is a little unusual especially since it's not the conventional 'GEEBEE'S TRIP' Episode. GEEBEE'S TRIP is definitely not over. Ma'er of fact, it's hardly begun but then I want to believe it will be very much okay to digress a little and give the series a rest till 2009. Wao! did I just say 2009? Yes I did and it makes my body shiver and my heart tingle and my nuts jingle. The new year's just a week away and somehow I can't wait to touch it. The entire feeling sparks up a lot of looking back and reminiscing in my heart and the only words I can mutter are 'Thank You Lord for seeing me through 2008.' I speak this words with absolute faith that the great God that saw us all through 2008 and all the preceeding years will see us into 2009 and far beyond. Did I hear you say a big Amen. Somebody shout 'Halleluyah! (Yeah I attend the Pastor Adeboye's church too). lol.

Last Saturday, precisely the 20th of December, I was in school for a test and a most shocking news came. Billy was confirmed dead. Billy (I can't even remember his last name) was a final year student of LASU like me even though from a different department but it wouldn't be an understatement to say Billy was your typical man's man. He was one of those rare guys you can't help but like. Truth be told, we hardly related on close terms but he was definitely a guy everyone knew. Petite, smooth-talking, loveable, likeable, calm, religious, brilliant, accomodating . . . and all the other good words you can possibly remember would be the best words to describe who this Billy guy was. In fact, when LASU Lekki campus opened, he was one of the people who began the school fellowship which has grown to be so big now. He has emceed our awards on about two occassions. He has mobilised students better than anyone I know in my school and done so many other admirable things I cannot begin to mention now. Alas, on that fateful day, news reached us that Billy was dead. How did he die? We heard he was on a motorbike on his way to Victoria Island the Friday evening before and while entering a roundabout, an on-moving trailer lost two of its tyres on top speed and those tyres hit Billy's bike. Strange, right? I thought so too and I cannot still comprehend how this happened. We heard the bikeman died instantly but Billy, now unconscious was rushed to St. Nicholas Hospital. Amidst vigils and non-stop prayers made for him by his church and his loved ones, Billy gave up early on Saturday morning. Trust me, it was a festival of tears in school on that day and the day after and I bet the festival has not ended right now.

When I think about all this, I wonder 'Why Billy?' and I cannot help but sigh. Would this guy have imagined in his wildest dreams that he would not see 2008 Christmas or even year 2009 for that matter. If people like Billy could die, what about less righteous people (pardon the statement) like me and so many others. It's all by God's grace. Some would say 'Don't take okada and stuff' but how do you expect to survive in a place like Lagos if you won't take okada (motorbikes). You'll probably spend half the day in traffic then. I've had three bike accidents this year and escaped with nothing more than a scar. it could have been worse! I have seen accidents where people died like animals in 2008! I have watched my daughter almost die from teething in thesame 2008! People have lost their moms, their dads, their aunts and uncles, their friends, even some have lost their lives in this same year 2008! I have travelled at least twelve times between Lagos and Ondo State (my mum lives there) in this same 2008 and amidst all these, God has been faithful. I sometimes wonder why God has kept me alive inspite of all my shortcomings (Oh they are numerous. Much too numerous and still counting) and I get lost for words.

I am also glad for Nigeria. Things have happened in this country in 2008 that would have happened in some countries and caused a disintegration and yet we are still one united country. God's grace is indeed abundant. In this same 2008, I lost three mobile phones. the first one was gone for good and the other two got returned to me miraculously after days. I never knew such things could happen in a country like Naija or maybe I'm just God's favourite. I know I'm not alone in this. So many other people exist with similar stories like mine and sometimes we're bound to think so highly of ourselves but it's pertinent to always remember it's all by God's grace we are where we are today. Let us remember Billy's story and have a sober reflection. People who are much better than so many of us are gone today but here we are still strong. God is indeed a faithful God. Reminiscing over 2008, I must say I'm glad to be alive and I hope to write a similar piece on this page by this time next year. By God's grace, I will do thesame next year. Enjoy the best of the season and please, don't wine and dine too much o. Meanwhile, it seems everyone is out of town for the festivities. I'm out of town as well presently in Ondo State with my daughter, my babymama, my mum, my grandmum and my brothers. Chief is back in Lagos and I wish him a wonderful time this Christmas and New Year. GEEBEE'S TRIP will continue in the New Year. Thank you all for making 2008 a most wonderful year for me. See you all in 2009.

WISHING ALL BLOGVILLE 'CITIZENS' A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A WONDERFUL 2009 AHEAD.

EPISODE 5 – THE VICE OF TEENAGE PROMISCUITY pt. 2

2008-12-08T10:12:00.001-08:00

There is something funny about being caught doing the wrong thing and it is basically the instant shock that accompanies the realization, usually on the part of the culprit. Sometimes, the shock is not that of the culprit alone. The look of surprise on the face of the one who discovers the culprit is usually amusing as well. That was exactly the scenario when Chief caught me red handed going through his ‘stash’ (that’s one word I got from solomonsydelle and I can hardly contain my amusement). What I found in that locker was a stash indeed – a secret locker that wasn’t meant to be opened by anyone except the Chief himself. Well, curiosity led me into this discovery and in that split second before I realized I wasn’t alone, a couple of thoughts ran through my seventeen-year old mind. What was my dad doing with such stuff? Actually, at that age I had never seen pornography before (are you surprised?). Seriously now, I hadn’t and secretly I had always had the longing and helped myself with my ‘peeking’ like I said in the last episode. Anyway, I wondered and before I could place a reason on it, my dad appeared right behind me.
“What are you doing there, Gbenga?” my old man blurted out in the angriest voice I had ever heard in a while.
At that moment, all I could do was have a flashback of the last time my dad beat me. I must have been about eight at that time and I began wondering if the man wouldn’t beat me again after almost ten years.
“I – I – was -” I began stuttering and feeling the sweat break out on my forehead almost instantly. Fortunately, Chief spared me the stress.
“Hand that over,” he simply said in a much calmer voice and it was then I realized I was holding the CD in my hand. Quickly I handed it over and dad put it back in the drawer and locked it securely.
“Those kind of movies are not for boys your age, okay!” he said on a note of finality as he walked away. I managed to nod my head and as I heard his bedroom door shut, I sighed gratefully. It was then I realized that my old man was probably as embarrassed as I was. I knew that was the reason he could not touch me. What reason would he have given for beating me by the way? Stealing his mojo? I don’t think so.

Sometimes I still wonder why my Chief had such a movie in his possession but these days, I have come to understand that every adult has a right to do certain things and unfortunately, children don’t have that right. However, my funny thoughts and wishes persisted and somehow it was pretty hard to get myself on the straight part. I believe I would have been much more composed if I had been with mum especially because of her strong Christian tendencies but with dad, it was so easy to stray, especially since he wasn’t at all the best spiritual role model. Well, I focused a little more on my JAMB/UME coaching even though I knew it was such a late time to begin preparing for the exam. This was in March 2003 and the examination was scheduled for April. This meant that I had about one month to prepare for an exam that should normally take a year’s preparation. What further angered me in the whole situation was the fact that I would have to write the same exam with Sean who was rounding up secondary school at the time. Again and again, I cursed O.A.U, Ife for subjecting me to such ridicule.

The coaching classes proved to be such a nice avenue to ease my troubles and boredom at home and shy as I was, I still made friends easily, especially among the girls. Somehow, they didn’t seem to mind that I was just a lanky, skinny kid who was joining them a few weeks to the D-day. With time, I got used to being in the center and it was there I had the chance to truly get involved in a relationship. The girl’s name was Beesla and she was such a simple and innocent girl that I just found myself liking so easily. The manner with which we began was somewhat romantic especially because it was actually poetry and our interests in it that got us talking for the first time. Beesla had a book where she often composed poems and for an amateur at the time, she was pretty good. Before long, we began exchanging poems. She’d write one for me and I’ll do the same for her. It all started on a platonic level but before long, feelings got involved and even then, we knew our boundaries. She was a virgin and that fact made it virtually impossible to do anything but smile at each other (Man! It was so annoying). Back at home, we had more housemaids that kept coming and going (Cyan just couldn’t find a maid that would satisfy her) and while some were ‘nice’ to me, some wouldn’t even think about it. Meanwhile, I was too timid to even suggest to Beesla about taking our relationship a little further but I was spared the stress yet again when U.J, the prettiest chic in the coaching center at the time picked an interest in me. I could hardly believe my luck!

U.J was pretty in the real sense of the word and how we got personal still remains a mystery to me. In my coaching center, there was a special arrangement that of course had some extra cost attached. Chief didn’t mind so long as it meant I would pass well and get into University so he gladly paid. According to the arrangement, we had to write the exam in a special center that entailed us going all the way to Ibadan. In the bus, U.J and I sat together by chance and naturally, we had to talk. We talked about a good number of things and laughed all the way. It was so easy to get carried away with each other and for a good while, I forgot about being shy and basked in the euphoria of talking to a girl better guys than me didn’t have the guts to talk to. It felt so good. We spent two nights in Ibadan before the exam day and even though there were separate accommodations for boys and girls, we always found a reason to hang out under a tree in the compound where we lodged and when U.J told me on the second night that she liked me, I felt like wetting my pants. We kissed and did a good deal of touching that night and it was a most memorable experience. It was so easy to forget about Beesla and her poems and I enjoyed that passionate moment with U.J. Somehow though, I knew it wasn’t going to last. She was just too beautiful for me and she was just like a piece of bone many bigger and stronger dogs out there were waiting to devour. As for me, I couldn’t compete with such dogs so I simply enjoyed the experience for the short while it lasted.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’s TRIP!

On a lighter note now, I would love to congratulate our Muslim brothers and sisters (especially the bloggers) on the Sallah celebrations. Thanks guys for giving me the opportunity to have two days off from work. I've been eating a lot of meat all day and I'm scared I might lose some teeth. Now, these are my wisdom teeth we're talking about. Abeg o! Take care people and God bless.

EPISODE 4 – THE VICE OF TEENAGE PROMISCUITY

2008-11-27T10:43:00.000-08:00

The heart of man is naturally inclined to certain dirty acts. ‘Naturally’ here would imply the total absence of willpower on the part of the person in question. I remember the very first time I heard about ‘puberty.’ I must have been about nine years old or thereabout and I remember stumbling on the word in one of BD’s integrated science notebooks. The word sounded pretty catchy and on further probing, I got to understand what it meant. I understood puberty for boys meant a deeper voice, development of pubic hair in the armpit and ‘down there’ and stuff like that and somehow, I could hardly wait to get to that stage. On much more further probing I got to know that I wouldn’t get to that stage till I was about twelve or thirteen! I discovered I had a long wait coming.

For me, growing up was fun to an extent, (at least my first nine years before my parents’ separation) and I did all those things children did – the sand and stone games, the hide-and-seek and the ‘daddy and mummy’ game. Actually, the last one was my favourite especially because I always got to play Daddy all the time and my first childhood crush, Tosin always got to play Mummy. I must have been about five or six then but I already knew what it felt like to be attracted to a girl. (Yes I was attracted to Tosin like hell!). In fact, I had begun to have erections sometimes and so when I read about the puberty thing, I wondered if one of the signs of puberty was the possibility to have erections. I guess I was wrong especially because of what little kids of nowadays do, all in the name of playing silly games. Like I said earlier, the heart (regardless of age now) is naturally inclined to. . . well, you know the rest. Well, let’s go back to the real story.

I finally succumbed to Chief’s advice and enrolled for the JAMB/UME classes in March 2003. By this time, Dorothy, the house maid cum part time sexual partner had been ‘fired’ by my step-mom Cyan and I had to live with a step-cousin who saw smoking as his only reason for existence. On the smoking thing, it felt like fun on the first day like I said in the last episode and you can imagine Emma’s joy on seeing me smoke. It was similar to the joy of an evangelist who had succeeded in winning a soul for the kingdom, only in this case my step-cousin was the smoking evangelist who had won a new soul for the smokers’ kingdom. However, just like the new convert in the Christian race usually gets bored after a while (except by the grace of God), I began to get bored with smoking, especially since my chain-smoking step-cousin always wanted me to accompany him all the time whenever he went on his smoking sprees. Sometimes, we sneaked to smoke like five times a day! It was that bad and it was at this point I decided I couldn’t live like that. All the while, I smoked just for the fun of it and not because I enjoyed it but it appeared Emma was determined to further integrate me into this new type of race. Soon, he got tired and decided to let me be. In fact, before long he was on his way back to the U.K.

In between attending my coaching classes, I longed for the sexual feel again, especially since I had gotten so used to the act with Dorothy. At seventeen, I was still pretty shy and I had never asked a girl out before so getting laid seemed to be an impossible task. I decided to improvise and resorted to peeking through the bathroom key hole whenever Elfy and Liz were having their baths and usually, I got an eyeful. It was more like live pornography and only God knows how I managed not to ever get caught while indulging in such dirty acts. I never got caught peeking but I got caught doing something much more degrading (well maybe not) and this time it was Chief himself who caught me. When I remember this experience, I often laugh to myself. On that fateful day, I had sneaked into my dad’s personal drawer; one drawer in the living room he kept permanently locked. Somehow, Chief had forgotten to lock up and my eyes caught the keys hanging right on the lock. I decided to check out what my old man had been hiding forever in that sacred drawer and on checking, I discovered some movies, not just movies now – pornographic movies. There was quite a good number. I was shell-shocked and while I was trying to recover from the shock, I heard someone right behind me and I turned hastily to find myself staring at my dad. I thought I would collapse at that moment. . . . . . . . . TO BE CONTINUED.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’s TRIP!

EPISODE 3 – A STEP-COUSIN AND A MAID

2008-11-18T11:17:00.000-08:00

Dorothy was just your typical Akwa Ibom girl. Every society in Nigeria seems to have its peculiarities. Just like the Northern Nigerian has an undying love for his cattle and a killer temper to go with it; Just like the Ibo man has an undeniable affection for his container and his money and just like the Ijebu man has a flair for his amala and gbegiri soup, the Calabar/Akwa Ibom people, especially the women have their own passion too. No disrespect meant here but I’ve often heard that the women from these parts have a huge sexual appetite. Over time I have come to accept this fact, especially since I’ve experienced this reality over and over again. In fact, it is constantly affirmed that the most popular girls in brothels are those from Akwa Ibom and Calabar and other locations within these areas. Little wonder most guys in the NYSC scheme pray to be posted to these areas (I have prayed such prayers too in the past!)

By the end of January 2003, I had begun to get pretty bored with Lagos too and I wondered where I could escape to this time around. All my moves at getting into University with my 2002 JAMB/UME result proved abortive, especially since I scored 207 and I intended studying Economics in Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife. Now at that time, this seemed like a pipe dream. The cut-off point for Economics at Ife was 271 and that meant I was a good 65 marks short. It was pretty obvious I would never be admitted to study Economics in O.A.U but at this time I didn’t care what I was offered to study at O.A.U. I was even ready to study Yoruba Language if that’s what the school offered me. All I wanted was to leave home and get into University. I needed to get something doing with my life. Chief suggested that I take another JAMB/UME but I wasn’t hearing any of it especially because I had such strong faith that my 2002 JAMB/UME result where I made 207 would still work for me. While I waited for O.A.U to come out with their admission lists, I passed the time watching movies on DSTV and local channels and enjoying the attention from Dorothy, the Akwa Ibom maid living with us. Initially I had paid no attention to this girl especially because I considered it absurd to have feelings for a girl who was supposed to be working in my house. As the days passed, I constantly found myself alone in the big house with Dorothy after dad and Cyan, his wife were off to their respective engagements, Liz to her place of primary assignment in the NYSC scheme and Elfy to her job scouting. I had no option but to talk to this maid and I found her quite interesting, maybe because I really needed someone to talk to. Dorothy was a little older than me (she claimed she was twenty at the time) and she was always sexually explicit in her conversations. I could practically say she was leading me on and it was so easy to fall for her advances. In fact, I wanted to fall and fall I did.

The first time was a little strange, especially because of my lack of experience in sexual matters. At the time, my only sexual experiences were the first one I had back in 2000 and a few more daring escapades in brothels, so with Dorothy, the whole experience felt anew. In fact it felt like losing my virginity all over again. It would be an understatement to call Dorothy ‘good.’ She was a diva in bed and we enjoyed the whole experience while it lasted, no strings attached. Sadly, by March 2003, Dorothy had to leave. I don’t know what exactly happened but it appeared Cyan had gotten tired of her and needed someone new. By this time, it had become obvious that O.A.U wasn’t going to offer me anything and I decided to take chief’s advice and I enrolled for the JAMB/UME coaching in preparation for the JAMB/UME examination in April ending. The centre proved to be a different and happy world away from the boredom of living with Chief, Cyan and her nieces. I made new friends and even had girls trying to get my attention. It felt like fun and I watched on as more chapters opened in my life.

Shortly before I enrolled for the coaching classes, another relative of Cyan’s came around. This time, it was a nephew and his name was Emma. He was based in the U.K and had been there all his life. At nineteen, Emma looked handsome and quite tall. He even had beards on his chin while my chin at the time was as smooth as an egg (my pubic hair was hardly full enough in fact!). He was in Lagos to spend a few weeks and he had to share my room with me so naturally we had to talk. We eased the boredom by taking strolls to Alpha Beach which was just a stone throw from my place and on one of those days I did something I never ever thought I’d ever do. Now, Emma was a chain smoker who would rather smoke than eat and somehow I could hardly understand what made smoking so important to this new step-cousin of mine.
“Gbenga, why don’t you smoke?” Emma had asked me on that fateful day as we strolled on the sea shore watching the giant waves run up the shore and back. The question had hit me like a bag of bricks.
“Smoke? Of course not!” I had replied irritated. “Why would I want to do a thing like that? It kills for crying out loud!”
The lanky guy had simply smiled and to my surprise, he produced a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. After inhaling and exhaling, he spoke.
“It does not kill. I’ve been smoking since I was thirteen and I’m not dead. Anyway, don’t tell Aunt Cyan, okay,” he said.
“Sure.” I said, watching him in awe and wondering what it actually felt like to smoke. Actually that was the first time I’d seen someone so close to me smoke.
“Try one. It won’t hurt.” Emma said and offered me the pack.
Without hesitating, I pulled out a stick from the pack and he lit it for me. I inhaled and exhaled and to my surprise I didn’t choke. On the contrary, the experience felt good. Before we left the beach on that day, I had smoked no less than six sticks of cigarettes. In fact, we returned home that evening without a stick of cigarette left in the packet.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’s TRIP!

EPISODE 2 – A NEW WORLD

2008-11-11T19:54:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Episode 2 of GEEBEE’s TRIP. However I would beg your permission to talk a little on Barack Obama. Now I guess bumight is gonna scold me again especially since I spent half of the last episode of GEEBEE’s TRIP talking about Obama. Somehow, talking about this wonder boy seems pretty irresistible. The new gist now is some strange assumption that Barack might just be something more than what so many of us think he is. Now most of us see him as the new ‘wind of change’ blowing all over America and all over the world, but still some people have begun to see him as some thing else. Recently, some dude suggested that this man might just be the much awaited ‘Antichrist.’

Now you can imagine how scared I was by that gist, especially since this guy had become a god of some sort to me. Now, does that mean I had been indirectly paying allegiance to some supposed ‘antichrist’ without knowing what I had been doing? I wondered. Now I wouldn’t want anyone to take me on my words especially since I didn’t start peddling this strange rumour. I decided to dig a little deeper into the foundation of this rumour and all I heard was that there was a strong sign portending the possibility of the new President-elect being the Antichrist. Someone even went as far as quoting the Bible and saying stuff like the antichrist would be acceptable to the whole world without any knowledge of the new leader’s true person. Now if we will be truly honest to ourselves, Obama’s rise to fame has been somewhat spectacular and the general acceptance by people all over the world of this ‘mulato’ speaks volumes. Maybe we need to pray to God to open our eyes and give us the direction we need. Nevertheless, I still love Barack Obama, antichrist or not! I did a poem for him (right side of this page. Crazy but hope y'all like it.)

In the last episode of GEEBEE’s TRIP, I spoke about my decision to come to Lagos to stay with my dad and his new wife, Cyan. Hard as it seemed, I had to make the decision and I found myself on my way to Lekki, Lagos. On arrival, Cyan proved to be the good woman she had always been. Actually, I had known her to an extent before and after the wedding and she had always seemed like such a nice lady, only that I never imagined for once that Chief would marry her. This feeling had been further reinforced by Chief’s seemingly reckless attitude with women. No disrespect meant but my dad would easily pass for a hard-ass player in his time. He had women in their numbers (he still does) and I lost count of how many women he must have dated within the seven years before he decided to remarry. They were so many that I mixed up the names countless number of times. At times, two or three women would come at the same time and Chief would have to decide on who was going to spend the night and stuff. We usually had a good deal of fun watching the unfolding drama among the women whenever such incidents occurred. Somehow within me, even though there was no visible proof, I knew his marriage to Cyan would not last.

Anyway, I finally settled with dad and Cyan and probably in an attempt to atone for his misdeed of getting married without even considering his children’s feelings, Chief showed so much concern and ensured that I had everything I needed. At that time, BD was twenty-one and in his final year as a Law student in University while Sean was in final year in secondary school so I was the only son in the house. On arrival, I met not just chief and his wife. There was chief and Cyan on one end, then there were Cyan’s cute nieces, Elfy and Liz. Elfy was twenty-six at the time, through with her Youth Service and searching desperately for a job and Liz was twenty-eight and serving her country as a Youth Corper (I often wondered why the younger finished before the older not knowing the same would happen to me years later). Even though I was seventeen at the time, I could hardly resist fantasizing about my step-mom’s nieces and how I would love to have some forbidden moments with any of them. You can imagine how much it hurt that neither of them paid me the least attention. To them, I was just another young kid who probably had no knowledge of what existed between a woman’s legs. I remember a particular incident where I came into the living room one afternoon and slotted in a movie I saw on the shelf. The title of the movie was ‘How to be a Player’ and it seemed like a nice movie to watch. The movie had hardly gone five minutes when Liz came into the living room and expressed her displeasure.
“Gbenga, you should not be watching this kind of movie oh.” she said disapprovingly.
“Why not?” I had challenged. “There’s nothing wrong with this movie.”
“The age grade says 18 and your dad says you’re seventeen.” she said on a final note as she removed the disc out of the DVD player much to my chagrin. I managed to swallow my rage especially when I wondered where on earth she found the guts to order me around in my own father’s house.

I was quite baffled that Cyan’s nieces thought of me as an innocent kid when I had all sort of crazy stuff already going through my mind at that age, especially when it had to do with the opposite sex. I was no longer a virgin (I had tasted the forbidden fruit about three years before) and I believed it was absurd for some funny lady to try protecting me from viewing sex scenes in movies especially when I really wanted to see these things. Anyway, I did not allow those moments bother me for too long. I had to improvise and it was rather easy, especially since there was a maid in the house at the time. Her name was Dorothy and she seemed to like me a lot. She was from the South-Eastern parts (from Akwa Ibom precisely) and immediately I sensed she looked at me in a manner that was a little unholy, I decided I had found what I was looking for and for the first time, I was glad I had come to Lagos.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GEEBEE’s TRIP!

EPISODE 1 - GOING CRAZY

2008-11-05T11:06:00.000-08:00

I had to delay this post a little just so I could talk a little about the American Presidential election and I had to wait till about five a.m (Nigerian time) this morning to get the full gist. In case you haven’t heard (and that’s if you’re the dumbest person on earth or you simply don’t exist at all), Barack Obama has won the American Presidential elections just like I and so many other people predicted. That makes us all prophets, right? I remember I said some good stuff about him in one of my very first posts on this blog. Click here to read. Now I know this is supposed to be Episode 1 of GEEBEE’S TRIP but I doubt if I’d be able to forgive myself for not talking about this ‘wonder boy’ and I hope y’all will forgive me too. Anyway, I guess I can live with not being forgiven by some people but I sure can’t live with not forgiving myself. Now, see what someone’s priorities are here. Na wa o!

Obama’s victory means a lot of things. One, it means history has been made in many ways. America has for the first time elected an African (some would call it ‘black’) American president – a fulfillment of Martin Luther King’s dream over forty years ago! Two, it means I can walk in and out of America whenever I like . . . hahahaha. Big lie! Sometimes, it baffles me the way Africans, especially Nigerians think. Some people actually believe an African-American being president means the borders of U.S will be suddenly thrown open. They have a big surprise waiting. Whichever way we choose to look at it, history has been made and you only needed to have watched and listened to Obama’s victory speech to realize that Americans have indeed made the right choice. YES WE CAN! You can imagine how people waited for hours to cast their votes, knowing that their vote meant something. That seems to be the opposite in a country like Nigeria where no one would want to pay an extra price such as waiting for hours just to vote, especially when the so-called vote might not even count at all, thanks to the ‘men upstairs’ who decide all that happens in Naija politics. I was also quite impressed with the old McCain’s conceding speech as well even though it was very much obvious he wished he had been on the other side of the table. Well, that’s how it is, my friends.

Enough on Obama, McCain and those American people. Let’s talk about GEEBEE’S TRIP. It’s Episode 1 and you’re welcome.

EPISODE 1 - GOING CRAZY
The year is 2003, the year I’m supposed to turn eighteen and the year when everything in my life seems to be at its worst. Here I am, two years out of secondary school and practically struggling to get into University. You know that feeling when you begin to feel like you’re gradually becoming a pest and unwanted where you are; that time when everyone begins to ask you questions like; “When are you resuming school? What course are you studying now? What school are you now?” and the likes. Man, those questions were the worst. People around just seemed to want to constantly rub in that fact that you’re not where you should be and you want to hate them for it. In fact, more than anyone else, you hate yourself for it. Yeah, that was the feeling and it became worse as 2003 came.

I needed to get out fast. At the time, I was with Mom ( You could read on her and other characters in the series in the previous post) in Ondo State and it sure wasn’t fun anymore; not like when I had just left secondary school about two years earlier and it felt great to be out of that hellhole called a ‘boarding school’; not like when I spent the first year driving around in mom’s new car and impressing everyone I could that I was a sixteen plus year old boy who could drive. Now, it had all become boredom and I needed to disappear, especially because most of my peers seemed to be gaining admission into Universities and Polytechnics and here I was driving around like some loser! I had only one option for my destination – Lekki, Lagos, where my Dad lived; where he lived with his new wife, Cyan. Now that was where I had my first headache.

Chief (My dad) had given my brothers and I the shocker of our lives about a year and half before when he had suddenly remarried. At first, it had seemed like the biggest joke of the century. The Chief that I knew was not the kind of man that could settle down again, not after staying single for almost seven years after he and Mom parted ways. They had separated in April 1994 for reasons I’d not like to dwell on (After all, this series is about me, not them). At the time, I was almost nine, BD was twelve and Sean was seven. Sometimes, I can relate to Barack Obama. This guy also came from a broken home. His dad left when he was a kid and his mom had to remarry leaving the little Obama to be raised by his grandparents in Hawaii. Anyway, I wasn’t raised by no grandparents but still I believe Barack and I have some stuff in common. Hey America, watch out for your future President! In fact, I’m thinking of suggesting a new name for myself, sort of a remix of my current moniker. GEEBAMA (A fusion of Geebee and Obama). Sounds great, doesn’t it?

Anyway, my Mom and Dad had both remained single at their respective ends all the while until my old man suddenly decided to get married and actually did in November 2001 when I was already sixteen and you can calculate the age of my brothers if you like. Now, that pill was pretty hard to swallow. Anyway, we swallowed it and got on with our lives and stayed most of the time at Mom’s, much to Dad’s chagrin. I often wondered how he would expect us to feel comfortable with such an impromptu decision so you can imagine how difficult it felt for me to have to move to Lagos to chill for the time being. Well, I actually did and there was so much in stock for me. See you in the next episode of GEEBEE’S TRIP.

GEEBEE’S TRIP – THE CAST

2008-10-28T21:42:00.000-07:00

Weird stuff sure do happen but not as weird as some event I got wind of during the week. I got a forwarded email from a friend and it told a story of a ten year old boy who bought a pineapple by the roadside and a couple of days later (fifteen days precisely) he got sick. He was taken to the hospital and after a series of tests, he was confirmed H.I.V positive. Now, the family insisted on every member being tested and none of them was positive. On enquiry, the boy confessed he bought a pineapple and bla bla. The family members managed to trace the pineapple seller only to learn that he had cut himself prior to the boy’s purchase of the pineapple and perhaps some of the blood had gotten into the fruit. On testing, the seller was told to his shock that he was H.I.V positive. Now that leads me to the big question. CAN YOU CATCH H.I.V FROM AN INFECTED FRUIT? I laughed my ass off after reading because I didn’t believe a word of it. Besides can H.I.V be detected within two weeks of being contacted? Come on! But then, what if it is actually possible? Wonders shall never end . . . especially in a country like Naija!

Welcome to the newest series in town. I’m glad you made the first episode (not really) and that means you get to meet the cast and crew of ‘GEEBEE’S TRIP.’

GEEBEE’S TRIP simply centers on the life of a young man (Me) and everything that makes him the man he is today, the good and bad attributes alike. Nobody is a judge so don’t be too hasty to judge when you come across certain barbaric stuff in the course of this series. Nonetheless feel free to drop your lines and comments. Who knows? You might be reaching someone (might not even be me) who needs such words so bad. Let’s have our cast.

Starring:
- Geebee – 23 yrs; that’s me, the hero of the show and maybe sometimes the villain. Depends on how you see it. I guess I’m the only one in the cast who’s
had an interaction with every other member of the cast. Makes me special, right?

- Chief – My dad, 50 yrs. He used to be a banker before going on a study leave in 2002. He’s into real estate now. Resides in Lagos. This man’s one interesting and weird fellow, but he’s still my dad.

- ED – My mum, 50 yrs, from a different world from Chief's obviously. Somehow they could not handle each other and so they parted ways when I was nine. She runs a catering business and she resides in Ondo State.

- BD – My elder brother, 26yrs; a lawyer, called to the bar in 2007. He’s a good big brother but then he’s got some of those traits too. No one’s perfect so let’s give it up for him ok. He resides in Lagos

- Sean – 21 yrs; Currently a Youth Corper serving in Lagos. He calls himself ‘Sean’ and he’s my weird little brother and my very right hand man. He’s the only one who knows some stuff about me that no one else in the family knows.

- BG – My baby’s mama. 22yrs. Everything about me and her seems like an accident that is kind of turning out right.

- TY – 1 yr +; My daughter. The only one I could kill for. She’s been the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.

- Cyan – My dad’s ex- wife. Don’t get confused, ok. Dad’s a little naughty. He’s had two exes now. I’ve not seen her since she left in 2005 but she’s still part of the story.

Also Starring:
- (Simon, Bayla, Sam, Iya Kay, M.G, Dorothy, Osas, Esty, Monica, Em, Bisi, Bim, BJ, Basra, etc.)*

* Not their real names (for security reasons)

Like every normal series, you’ll get to see some additional cast sometimes but these should do for now. Once again, welcome to GEEBEE’S TRIP. The first episode would begin shortly. For now, feel free to comment or ask anything you want to know about any of the cast and I’ll be much obliged to let you know whatever you wanna know. Stay tuned.

A new chapter . . . getting very personal.

2008-10-20T06:06:00.001-07:00

Recently a friend of mine got married. Well I won't exactly call him a friend cos I got my invite via text message from him about six days to his wedding and here's how it went -

"Hey Geebee man what's going on? My wedding is on Saturday and I'll like you to be there. Please spread the word. Sorry for the late info but been trying to reach you endlessly all to no avail. thanks. God bless you."

Now, that's supposed to sound convincing, right? Especially when I've got two working mobile phones and receive calls quite normally. Well, that's that. That's not what i'm here to talk about. What I'll love to talk about is why did he get married so soon? I have known Don (not his real name. I don't want problems, please!) and his new wife ever since I got into University and give it to them, they've been one of the most serious couples I've ever met. But they didn't seem like guys who'd settle down so soon. Now, some people are guessing that Diana (not her real name too) is pregnant and somehow, the parents of the couple didn't want a 'stigma,' you know the baby-before-wedlock kind of stigma. And what did they do? They rushed up a marriage within weeks or months! Just some people's views now. They might be wrong, especially if Diana turns out not to be pregnant yet as some people think. For chrissakes, I didn't even notice a protuding tummy on the wedding day. Whatever! My point here's just that I don't see any reason for rushing into marriage just because your girl's pregnant. Forget all that old-school fable about a baby being born into matrimony being the only right action. Babies are Godsent and the Lord gives them as he wishes. It might be a mistake as some may call it but every pregnancy has a purpose. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been glad to marry Sarah as soon as she got untimely pregnant. I guess I wouldn't have; not because I don't love her (I sure do) but because I wasn't and I'm still not yet ready. . . not even close to being ready! All thesame, I'm happy for Don and Diana but I sure do hope it's what both couple really wanted.

I got thinking again of recent. Why did I really start blogging? I remember I only wanted to share my life story in every way I could. If anything at all, I know I have really had an exceptional life, short as it may have been so far. I've had so many crazy experiences in my short lifetime that I sometimes doubt my age. I'm thinking of starting a new chapter on my blog. I'll begin it as a series and i'll be glad if you guys will keep dropping in and posting your comments. I bet you it's gonna be a worthwhile experience. The updates will also be somewhat regular to save some soon-to-be avid readers from choking out of expectation of subsequent episodes. You could even follow my blog to make it easier to keep up with the episodes in the series. It's gonna be a long series, you can be sure of that. I might well be on my way to becoming a new blogville idol. hahaha. Well it all depends on how you find what you'll be reading here so keep coming. I'll give you the cast of the new series in a few days. Stay tuned.

Violent Tempers . . . another serious issue

2008-09-17T03:58:00.000-07:00

I have often heard that men from the Northern part of Nigeria could be really crazy when angry (my apologies to the Northern bloggers, please). I’ve heard about the violent tempers of these guys who could behead anyone who got an inch close to their wives or their cattle! I have also heard that if medals were to be given for having violent tempers, then my Northern brothers would be natural gold medalists. I came so close to observing a flagrant display of violent temper at its best sometime last week on my way to Surulere, Lagos to see a client. I was seated in a commercial bus and I watched in horror as a car ahead collided with a motorcycle. For an instant, I thought the man on the bike was dead or something. He had no helmet on for chrisakes! But he wasn’t. In fact, he turned out to be a policeman wearing a uniform that had MOPOL clearly printed on it. Alas, he was a mobile policeman! Along with the other occupants of the bus, I prepared for the drama that was about to unfold before us. The MOPOL guy seemed not to have felt any pains at all judging by the manner in which he got off his fallen bike and raced to his assailant’s car which had now parked a few metres ahead. By the time the driver got out of his car to assess the damage he had done, the policeman had reached him and the next thing I saw was the man on the ground and the policeman pummeling him with blows meant to remove all of his teeth if possible. The crowd that had now gathered screamed and begged for this new assailant to have mercy on his victim. The pleas seemed to make matters worse as the MOPOL pulled out a dagger from his belt and . . . No, he didn’t stab the driver, but I bet he would have if only there hadn’t been so many witnesses. Man, I was scared. As my bus slowly moved away from the scene, I managed to catch the policeman’s face and noticed his tribal marks. His angry voice and accent further proved that he was a Northerner. I sighed and silently thanked the good God that had restrained him from using that dagger.

'Temper' simply refers to 'a tendency to get angry easily and suddenly.' It’s no doubt a vice we all have to live with one way or the other. No one existing on this planet could ever lay claim to never having had a reason to get angry at one time or the other. Even babies do get angry. At least my daughter does. Jesus Christ himself got angry sometimes in the Bible, so we certainly do have a right to get angry but what really determines maturity is the manner in which we control ourselves whenever we get angry. Unbridled tempers have broken so many homes, caused so many wars and so many untimely deaths. I don’t think I have seen any good effect violent tempers have ever had so what’s the point of accommodating it anyway. I’ve come to believe ‘controlling temper’ remains one of the greatest personal wars we all have to fight. Even if the war can’t be totally won, it could be controlled to a reasonable tone.

Let’s quit the preaching and teaching and come to the real world now. I made a purchase over the weekend and somehow it still makes me laugh. Guess what? I bought a dog – a puppy actually. (No, that's not the picture of my dog. I've not had the chance to get a good photo shot yet.) A friend’s friend was desperate and needed cash real bad. Now he has a bitch (that’s a feminine dog’s name, right?) that just put to bed like two months ago and the she-dog’s got six puppies. I had a little cash to spare and so I took the deal, so I’m a proud owner of a puppy and she’s a she. That means in a coupl’a months and with the best cross-breeding with either a male dobberman, an Alsatian or a German shepherd, I could be rearing bad-ass dogs like DMX and shit. Sometimes, it’s good to act on impulse . . .sometimes. My pup’s got no name yet. I’m still thinking of a perfect name. Suggestions are highly welcome. See you around.