EPISODE 53 - CHRONICLES OF A PARTNER-IN-LAW

Hey folks,
Wow! It's been another long while! I know I've not been the best example of a blogger like I hoped to be this year but then, you know . . . Anyways, I've decided to drop in again and this time, I hope for a good while. The series continues with a repeat 'broadcast' of the last episode. Episode 54 would be here shortly. Enjoy!

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Back in my early school years, I did Social Studies as a subject and a most popular topic in the subject that no one who ever passed through basic education could ever forget would be ‘The Family’. I understood the family concept early enough and the types – Nuclear and Extended. While the nuclear family concept was quite easily understandable, it took a little extra effort in understanding some of the terms used in the extended family concept.

For a while, I continued mixing up the terms nephew, niece and cousin. In fact, I believed for a long time that nephew was a feminine term and niece was a masculine term. Today, I have a daughter who happens to be older than my cousin who is my aunt’s daughter. Now, what would this cousin of mine be to my daughter? Her cousin-aunt? Someone said my daughter would be better referred to as her second cousin and she would be a little aunt to my daughter. Now, my knowledge of Social Studies never included terms like second cousin or little aunt. Besides, why would you be older than your little aunt? It sounds ridiculous to me. Perhaps, you could suggest a more appropriate term.

The concept of extended family also accommodates the inclusion of in-laws – people who become related by the fact that some people decide to get hooked. Imagine some random person you do not know from Adam becoming related to you because someone you happen to be related to decided to get married to someone that person happens to be related to. Pretty annoying, right? You bet. Research has shown that only one in every five married men have a good relationship with their in-laws. For the wives, it is worse as only one in every eight married women enjoy a good relationship with their in-laws. In fact, most people would prefer to live their lives as a nuclear family unit without any relationship whatsoever with in-laws.

BG’s pregnancy and the fact that I had accepted responsibility was the first step in throwing me in the much hated in-law mix. I had no choice but to meet her sisters and ultimately, the deal had been sealed when my mum had come down to meet them. I had automatically become related to BG’s people. It only had to become official. Cher had technically become my sister-in-law and she was indeed one in-law I would have gladly done without. Almost immediately after bringing her into my business as my partner, I regretted the decision. This was further reinforced when I observed to my greatest shock her display when her pregnant sister had asked to accompany us to the bank to claim some maga money. However, my hands were tied. She was in and I realized I had to simply tread carefully. Besides, she was technically my sister-in-law, more like partner-in-law.

As agreed, she was at my place three days later. We were to begin the first phase of her induction as she had put it. I was surprised when I received her call around noon on that day.

“Hey Geebee dear. I’m on my way now. Are you home?” she said from her end.

I hesitated before responding. “Yeah, but I thought you were going to come much later. Is it not too early for you?”

“Well, I’m already on my way. Should I turn back?” she responded rudely.

“No, it’s alright. You can come,” I said weakly. “Let me know once you arrive at the bus stop so I’ll come get you.”

I ended the call and sighed in frustration. I had not expected her until around five o’clock in the evening. I had planned to simply meet her at the bus stop and together we would go straight to the café. I had not even wanted her to come to my place. However, as things stood, I didn’t have a choice. It was rather too early to go to the café and I had no rapport with her to the extent where I would have suggested we go somewhere to while away the time until evening. Apparently, I was stuck! My phone rang again, interrupting my thoughts. It was BG.

“Hello BG,” I said into the mouthpiece.

“Hey baby. What’s up? Where are you?”

“I’m home,” I said, wondering why she was asking me where I was. 

“Okay. Anyway Cher said she’ll be coming to your place later so you guys would go to the café.”

I scoffed. That was old news. Almost immediately, something she had said caught my attention.

“I thought she was on her way,” I said.

“No, she said she was going to see a friend and do some stuff before coming to your end later.”

I instantly found it difficult to breathe. I wanted to tell BG that her sister had just called me to inform me that she was on her way but on second thought, I decided to keep quiet.

“Okay, no problem.” I said.

“Alright baby. Please call me when you guys are together, okay,”

I thought about calling Cher immediately to verify what I had just heard from her sister. Perhaps, I had misunderstood her earlier. She had probably meant she was on her way out and would see me later. I was in this fix for another fifteen minutes until my phone rang again. It was Cher. She informed me that she was at my bus stop. What was happening here? I asked myself. Whatever was going on, I didn’t like it one bit, I told myself as I hurriedly cleaned up the room. I left for the bus stop to pick her with myriads of thoughts assaulting my mind.

About ten minutes later, I was unlocking my front door with Cher behind me. It took an eternity to fit the key into the lock and I hoped she had not observed my lack of composure.

“So, you’re welcome. Please make yourself comfortable,” I said, trying as much as possible to stay calm.

“Thanks,” she said, dropping her bag and sitting in the ‘lazy boy’ I had in a corner of the room. “Wow, this is nice.”

I looked at my watch. It was just past one o’clock. How was I supposed to sit with this lady for another four hours without falling apart like a pack of cards? I thought. I reminded myself that I was a big boy who had girls at his beck and call. This wouldn’t be the first time I had a lady in my apartment. In fact, I had spent the previous night with one so why in hell was I feeling like jelly? Cher was just like any other girl. There was no big deal about her! I corrected myself almost immediately. She wasn’t like just any other girl. She was hot; she was intimidating; she had an annoying attitude; she was my pregnant girlfriend’s sister and she was in the same room with me without her sister’s knowledge! Now, that was a peculiar situation!

“Helloooooooo!”

I jumped! It was Cher. Apparently, she had been talking to me while I was miles away in thought.

“Sorry, you were saying?” I asked foolishly, instantly hating myself.

“Where were you, mister?” she said, getting up and walking towards me.

I felt I would choke on my saliva as she got to where I stood but to my greatest surprise, she passed beside me and reached for a magazine on the TV stand.

“Wow! So you read GQ magazine too. Is this the latest edition?”

I heaved a sigh and looked at my watch again. It was barely five minutes since I had last checked it. This was going to be the longest four hours of my life, I realized.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.

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MERGERS AND ACQUISITIONS

Hey folks,
It's been yet another looooong while. I've been tied up with so much in the past weeks that I've barely had the time to stop by on blogger, do blog rounds or write any post. I thought I'd drop this poem I wrote recently. Enjoy and let me know what you think.

MERGERS AND ACQUISITIONS

Mergers and Acquisitions shouldn’t be only about companies
Banks taking over banks, the strong swallowing up the weak
Alliances being forged by organizations of rivaling strengths
Financial success and survival being the one thing they all seek

I live in a nation whose people amaze me to no end
A land where spirituality and religion enjoy an unrivalled allegiance
A territory where people hide under various religious garbs and identities
And to one supreme being, the Almighty God they pay obeisance

Religion is the opium of the people, Karl Marx rightly proposed
Unite a people under one faith and you have a people truly united
Bind them with the cord of religion and you have one people
Thus, the Medieval Empires for centuries remained undefeated

In this discourse, my nation is a peculiar one
Religion continues to take the centre stage in our affairs
The irony however, remains the backward state of the nation
I wonder if my people indeed practice the faith they profess

I thought righteousness was supposed to exalt a nation
Wasn’t a religious nation supposed to be a righteous one?
More churches, mosques and shrines spring up in their numbers
And in the epic battle between good and evil, evil has continually won

Do our places of prayer still carry the presence of God?
Or are the churches, mosques and shrines simply taking up space?
If indeed the presence of God resided in our numerous places of prayer,
Our country would indeed compete with Heaven in numerous ways

Mergers and Acquisitions are formed for specific purposes
Among others, they tackle ineffectiveness, inefficiency and lack of productivity
Perhaps, we need mergers and acquisitions in our nation’s places of prayer
Perhaps, this will usher in a visible divine presence and a renewed
trend of positivity

If all the church denominations were merged into one specific denomination
How great would such a church be?
If all the mosques or shrines were merged into one mosque or shrine
We would no doubt some progress see

Mergers and Acquisitions create a new company with one goal and direction
One church, One mosque, One shrine, with specific goals would be formidable
They would be indeed much more powerful than the political government
Their impact would be felt from the seat of power to the horses’ stable

Now imagine if the three formidable forces all merged into one
That would no doubt pave way for a new nation – a new national order
Of course that remains an impossible dream but then who knows?
I sigh as I think about religion and my nation and I can’t help but wonder.

THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES would continue in the next post (soon, I hope. *winks*)

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EPISODE 52 – SEEING THE FUTURE?

If there is any spiritual gift I seriously crave for, it is the gift of prophecy; the ability to be able to see or predict the future. Now, I don’t mean predictions that don’t come true or those that come true in parts, leaving people skeptical on whether a prediction was actually truly inspired or was just guesswork. For instance, I know of some preachers in my nation who have made predictions (or prophecies) on a lot of issues ranging from ‘being instructed by God to run for political positions’ to things that would happen in the economy, the death of political figures etc. Unfortunately, so many of these predictions never came true and I’m forced to wonder if indeed the ‘gifts of prophecy’ these men were supposed to possess had somehow gone soft or something.

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Recently, it was alleged that another preacher predicted the outcome of the final of the Champions League match. I watched that match and I honestly have to admit that I was ready to laugh at the prophecy once the game was over. Reason: From all indications during that game, it hardly looked like the prediction would come true. The team that was foreseen as the winner was seriously outplayed and they were at a disadvantage by all standards – going into the game, during the game and even during the resulting penalty shootout – but alas, the prophecy/prediction came true and I’ve been in awe ever since.

Now, I’m not implying that the alleged prophecy/prediction makes the preacher a superman or something but that feat actually got him trending on Twitter for two days in a row and I laughed my butt out at the numerous posts that were hash tagged with this preacher’s identity and the funny questions that were thrown at him regarding events that would happen in the future. The reactions were further influenced by the fact that this man had once predicted that the national team wouldn’t make it to the Nations Cup and indeed they did not. Now, with these prophetic achievements, why won’t people literally make this man the Nigerian version of Nostradamus? I have begun to wish I could be Geebeestradamus and indeed see the future and all that would happen. If only I could see the future, I would take advantage of a lot of situations and likewise avoid a lot more. Life would be perfect! I’ll keep praying anyway and maybe I’ll get my wish someday.

The phenomenon called regret comes about when sometime in the future we wish we had taken or not taken certain actions. If we had an idea of what would happen if we did some things, we would know better to do or not do a lot of things. Unfortunately, life is not meant to be that way so we are stuck with making our decisions guided by our personal experiences or those of others among other factors. Usually, we have a voice in our heads that either propels us to do some things or warns us against it. The strength of that voice is usually a function of the personality of the individual and while it is highly active in some people, it is inactive in others. Usually, every time we disobey that voice, it gets weaker and ultimately loses its effect. I believe that voice could be sometimes referred to as our conscience.

As much as the voice in my head warned me against venturing into the Yahoo-Yahoo business, I constantly resisted and tried to justify my actions and before long, the voice hardly mattered to me. In fact it was barely audible to my spiritual ears. I was deeply involved now and things were beginning to look up. With five magas and counting, prospective ones in the works, a new partner and more prospects I was yet to actualize, I could not imagine quitting at that stage. I had since decided I would not do it forever but I was not as convinced about that resolve as I was at inception. However, with my firing of Nuel as my partner and Cher’s entry, things took a totally different dimension and if indeed I could see the future, I would have simply held on to Nuel or better still, quit the business altogether. It was a wrong way of life, anyway! Like I didn’t know!

I had only met Cher on about three occasions and spoken with her on phone prior to the commencement of our partnership so naturally, I felt a little clumsy around her for many reasons. One, she was my pregnant girlfriend’s sister. Two, she was quite breathtaking in her own way. Of course, I had met more beautiful girls but Cher had a confidence about her in her carriage and speech that seemed to accentuate her beauty. Three, she had a serious attitude problem. Unfortunately, as much as I would have loved to put her where she belonged with a good deal of tongue-lashing, I couldn’t. I figured BG and I owed her. She, it was who had lent her moral support while we attempted to terminate the pregnancy even though I had to overlook her irritating behaviour all the while. Furthermore, she had been the one who broke the story to her eldest sister and saved BG the stress of having to do it herself. One way or the other, we owed her and I was sure she was the kind of lady who wouldn’t hesitate to rub that fact in. Four, she was four years older than I was and that fact made me understand that it would be difficult to relate with her just as a partner. There would be a number of issues I would have to bear with and I would have to maintain an extra measure of calmness with her.

As promised, within a week, I had the drivers’ license ready with her picture and the cover-up name I had been using for my magas. I was to be the brain and ‘fingers’ of the business empire and she was to be the face and voice. I was amused at Cher’s excitement when I visited the house and gave her the ID.

“Wow! This is cool. So, I’m officially AY now, right? BG, check this out!”

BG collected the ID and surveyed it.

“I wish I wasn’t in this condition.” She said, referring to her bulging tummy. “I would have been the one in this ID.”

I smiled. “If you weren’t in this condition, this ID would never have existed in the first place.” I said sarcastically.

We laughed and while BG and Cher chatted away, I sat in silence and allowed my gaze to stray to the bulging tummy. The pregnancy was closing on six months and again, I was reminded I was going to become a father in another three months. I would have traded everything to be spared of that eventuality – even my ‘business empire’! I had been praying secretly that a miscarriage of some sort would happen but nothing of such was yet to happen.

“So what’s the first mission, Geebee dear?” Cher said, interrupting my thoughts.

I hesitated before responding. “Well, I chatted with Dean yesterday and promised to give him my phone details tonight.”

“That would be my number, right?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s going to be your number but not your regular phone number.”

I reached into my pocket and brought out a sim pack.

“Here, I got you a new line. You’ll only use it to receive his calls and any other calls from any future magas.”

“Magas?” BG asked.

I was about to explain when Cher cut in. “Those are the fools we are going to be duping, silly!”

I winced. She never had to make it sound so bad, I mentally noted.

“Or am I wrong?” she probed, lightly poking me in the side. “You’re right” I said.

“So I’m going to give you updates whenever I chat with whoever is going to call you just so you know how to respond on phone.”

“Wow, this is gonna be so cool. I can’t wait.”

“Meanwhile, we have some money to go and pick up now. That’s why I brought the license anyway.”

One of my latest magas, Prakash, an Indian in U.K had sent me £100 the previous day.

“Can I come with you guys?” BG asked morosely.

“Are you sure you want to come?” I asked after a moment of hesitation.

She nodded. “I’m bored here. I just want to go out with you. Nobody knows me around here anyway.”

I sighed and was about to speak when Cher cut in.

“No way. If she’s coming with us like this, then I’m not going anywhere.” She said pointedly.
By ‘this’, she meant BG’s protruding tummy. I was too stunned to speak.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” BG lashed at her sister. “If not for this pregnancy, do you think we would even need you for anything?”

“Oh really? Okay, fine then! I quit!”

To my utmost shock, she threw the license at me and stormed out of the living room.

“Yes! Get out! We don’t need you.” BG screamed after her angrily.

I picked up the license and relaxed in the chair. I sighed and closed my eyes for a while. What the hell was going on? I wondered.

“So what do we do now?” I said after a few minutes.

“She’s too full of herself.” BG lashed out.

“But we need her, you know.”

“I don’t care!”

I wanted to yell at her. I wanted to curse her for putting me in such a situation. I wanted to tell her that if not for her pregnancy, I wouldn’t even have thought about going into the damned illegal business! I wanted to tell her to go to hell along with her sisters and her entire family! I wanted to go into the room after Cher, beat her silly and storm out of the house! I wanted to do so many things but I didn’t.

Thirty minutes later, the three of us were on our way to a nearby bank that had Western Union Money Transfer facilities. I had been able to pacify the two sisters and Cher had grudgingly accepted that BG accompanied us. Cher had asked to come along with me to the café the next day so she could ‘experience the action firsthand’ and I agreed. BG did not ask to come along this time and I was glad to avoid another sisterly scuffle. As we entered the banking hall, I wondered if bringing Cher into the business was the right thing to do. Unfortunately, I had no powers to see the future and had to rely on the passage of time to know for sure.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES

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EPISODE 51 – A NEW PARTNER-IN-CRIME

Every businessperson has a major motive for doing what they do and usually, it is to make profit. Generally, profit refers to the difference between the cost incurred and the revenue realized in a business venture. Back in University as a student of Economics, I learnt that at the initial stage of business, it tends to be difficult to make profit and as such, the aim of the businessperson would be to minimize cost. All costs incurred (financial, physical and mental) must be put into consideration to determine the profitability of a venture and from time to time, some unnecessary costs must be cut off if a business is to survive. I understand the cost of running the Nigerian economy – payment of the salaries of officers at the three tiers of government and all other parastatals – is put at about 70% of the budget. In my opinion, this is a most ridiculous situation. Why would you spend almost three-quarters of the business funds on administration? If the Nigerian economy was a business venture, it would definitely be bankrupt by now. ECO 101. Class dismissed!

In Episode 49, I mentioned that, at the brink of losing the money that I was yet to even touch, I resorted to bringing my friend, Nuel into the picture. Reason:

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Receiving money via Western Union required the receiver to have all or at least one of a national drivers’ license, an international passport or a national identity card. Nuel had the required form of identification and I had none. The bromance was cool while it lasted and he proved to be a good partner-in-crime. He received the payments on my behalf without any hassles and of course I had to ‘settle’ him for his services. It was the settlement issue that was responsible for the ECO 101 lesson earlier. At a point, the cost became unbearable. I was paying him well for his services and Nuel practically became my follow-buddy, going everywhere with me much to my chagrin.

I now had good money to spend so it was always a fun galore every night. My usual hangout was Liberia, a cool spot in my neighbourhood where everything fun you could imagine was abundant – from ear-splitting music to fish and meat peppersoup, barbecue, suya, beer, wines, local gins, marijuana and prostitutes; you name it and you would find it in Liberia. The place was called Liberia because it was a settlement of Liberian refugees and they had taken their future in their hands in the ways they knew how to. I would call a few friends to join me and we would blow some good money. Of course I always footed the bills. Nuel was always with me and on a good number of occasions whenever I decided to take a girl home to spend the night, Nuel would get one too and you could guess who paid the bills again. Before long, I was feeling like a maga and I decided to shop for a new accomplice so I could fire Nuel. There was no room for sentiments and I hid under the great Donald Trump’s philosophy: ‘It’s nothing personal. It’s just business’. Business was for profit and I couldn’t afford to keep Nuel in my payroll. Retaining his services had become too expensive for me.

Like a good businessman, I began to consider the qualities I would want in my new associate. There were a number of factors to consider. At that moment, I had three steady magas who were sure to continue paying for a while, probably until the scales fell off their eyes. There were prospective ones too. I was also bothered about the ‘face’ of my budding ‘business empire’. I knew it was only a matter of time before the face of the model would be discovered as a fraud and the pressures from Miles Peck to communicate with him on webcam was gradually becoming overbearing. He wished to see the beautiful AY he had fallen in love with and how was I to let him know there was no AY? Dean Flank had sent me his phone number and asked that I call him because he wanted to hear my voice. How was I to do that? With my sonorous masculine voice? Hell no! Luke Pine was due in Ghana for his medical conference in a few weeks and had promised to come see me in Lagos. He even promised to send me money to book a nice hotel for us to stay for three days. I had suggested Eko Hotel. Time and time again, I wished I was really the model in the picture. My bright future would have been settled for good! My options were indeed juicy and I could only imagine what it would feel like to be actually married to any of the trio – Miles Peck, an engineer, Dean Flank, a University professor or Luke Pine, a medical doctor. I wished the experience was indeed for real.

I realized however that my days were numbered with these men. I couldn’t possibly keep up with the lie for too long especially with the pressures of requesting to see my face or hear my voice. I began to focus on the future and decided to get a new face to work together with the model, acting as the voice and the webcam face if ever there was the need. BG would have been the most natural choice considering our relationship. However, her pregnancy made it impossible to get her involved. When I initially intimated her about my new line of business, she didn’t hide her fear one bit.

“What? Yahoo-Yahoo!” she echoed in shock. “What if you get caught?”

I had shrugged. “Well, you just pray I don’t. What else do you expect me to do with the pressures from you and your people?”

BG fell silent and I felt lighter pointing it out to her that I wasn’t doing this because I felt like doing it but because she had put me in that situation.

“Geebee, can’t you think of anything else to do meanwhile?”

“Of course I can and that’s what I’ve been doing so far? Whatever I make legitimately can barely cater for me; talk less of considering you and this pregnancy.”

She sighed in frustration and I couldn’t care less. In fact, I found it easy to hate her so much then. Why did she have to get pregnant and put me in such a situation? Her family’s reaction to the entire situation further enraged me, especially her eldest sister, Mrs. Oki’s constant naggings which were yet to cease. Eventually, I convinced her to agree with me in my new ‘business line’; not that she had a choice anyway. She wouldn’t have expected me to go and get money from trees to take care of her and her pregnancy!

When I broached the subject of my ‘face’ dilemma and the considerations, she was very cooperative.

“I can make and receive the calls so long as you brief me early enough on what you guys chat about,” she offered.

I agreed. We still had one more hurdle however. For future magas, I needed to cover the ‘webcam’ loophole.

“But you can’t possibly show your face on the webcam” I pointed out.

Indeed, she couldn’t. She couldn’t even dare venture out of her sister’s house. Her pregnancy was still a secret to most people and I preferred it remained that way.

“Cher can help.” BG said.

It was another ‘lightbulb-turned-on-in-my-head’ experience. Yeah right! Cher had proved herself in the past while we attempted the abortion and she had also helped us break the news to their eldest sister. She was smart and equally stunning. She could not hold a candle to my model but I would simply have to make do with her. Fortunately, Cher came in shortly after and when I threw the proposition to her, she was elated.

“Wow! Count me in. I love adventures like this,” she said excitedly. “I’m glad it’s not the case of another phantom pregnancy you guys need me for this time around.”

I sighed in relief and thought about Nuel who had just been officially replaced. I dismissed the sentiments immediately. The business had to move forward.

I briefed Cher about everything from start to finish. I told her I would get her a drivers’ license bearing the ‘cover name’ and she would be the one to receive any payments from the magas. By the time I stopped talking; Cher had a look on her face I had never seen before. She was staring at me like I was some enigma.

“You are one smart guy, Geebee. My sister is so lucky to have you and I envy her,” she said sweetly. She still had her gaze fixed on me.

I simply smiled and looked at BG. She was smiling too.

I realized Cher had a point there. Her sister still had me but as far as I was concerned, it was only for a while, at least until the baby was born. I was no fool and would never be tied down to any woman because of an unfortunate pregnancy. However, something about Cher’s words sounded a little beyond a mere compliment and no one else except me seemed to have noticed this. Perhaps it was just my stupid imaginations at work, I told myself. I sighed again. My ‘business empire’ was back on track.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES

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EPISODE 50 – A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE

When I was much younger, I believed you only grow older when you mark your birthday. Thus, when my sixth birthday was not celebrated with a party, I assumed it meant I was still five years old. It took a little while before I adjusted to the reality of the fact that not every birthday must be marked in a big way. However, in our part of the world, certain birthdays are looked upon specially. For instance, your first birthday, your third, seventh, tenth, twelfth, eighteenth, twenty-first, twenty-fifth, seventy-fifth and all the

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birthday numbers in multiples of ten are usually celebrated. My brother turned thirty last month and didn’t even throw a party and I was like  . . . Really? Well, maybe I’m just being sentimental but I strongly believe in setting milestones, recording achievements and the need to celebrate or at least acknowledging the crossing of a particular landmark.

This post is very special to me because it marks the golden jubilee of ‘The Geebee Chronicles’ series. I consider it special because it is definitely different from doing fifty random blog posts. Writing a series based on 70% fact and 30% fiction could be especially difficult. I can confidently tell you that it takes a lot of courage, caution and determination to do this. I’m glad we are at this point and I can’t thank you all enough for being there. Really, what’s the point of doing a series if no one is going to read it? I really wouldn’t have loved to call names but I have to acknowledge the bloggers who’ve been a part of this series all this while.

To those who originally began this journey with me:

Aloted, Bumight, StandTall, Writefreak, Buttercup, Nefertiti, Kinshar, Solomon Sydelle, Jaguda, Wellsbaba, Rita, Uzezi, Simeone, Beauty, Original Mgbeke, Femi B, Yewande Atanda, Miss Definitely Maybe, Doug, Iwalewa, Aloofar etc. They are those I’d like to call ‘veterans’. They were my idols and made blogging practically become my life back then. Thanks for the tutelage and the love, uncles and aunties. Lol

To those who joined the series wagon along the way:

Olufunke, Myne Whitman, Qmoney, Tisha, Tommeh, Enkay, Chacha, Spicy, Danny Bagucci, Doll, Spesh, Mikey, Eddee (Where are you, bro?), BSNC, Mariaah, MPB etc. They joined the party and blended even though it was already in full swing, making me feel all the more determined to continue. You guys are awesome!

And those who joined the wagon more recently:

Atilola (my wonderful editor and close padi now. Lol), Toinlicious, Rhelow, Ibifiri Kamson, LohiO, Nafisat etc. They came in after I had taken a long hiatus and my blog was almost deserted. Lol. Still, they’ve been around. Thanks people. You guys are the best!

The list is far from exhaustive but those were the names I could recall. Of course a good number of them have jumped off the wagon and some have even quit blogging and I definitely miss them. Thanks y’all.

Lifting from Episode 24 which was a recap of the first twenty three episodes, I would again state that my motivation for starting the series was the fact that I had always wanted to do an autobiography someday and planned to start when I turned forty. However, the events that have occurred in my life since my eighteenth year have totally set me on an unplanned and unexpected course and while everyone has a story, I see mine as a pretty unique and could not resist the urge to share it. The original idea of my autobiography was to simply talk about my life and my previous forty years of existence (of course when I turned 40), achievements in the academic world and writing world among other things. Sincerely, that was the dream back then. However, life had something totally different in stock for me with experiences of all kinds – pleasant and unpleasant. Then I started blogging in 2008 as a twenty-three year old final year student of Economics in University and a father to a daughter who had just turned one.

My posts were mostly random and just straight from my heart and head. I wrote about anything – from football, family, school experiences etc. The idea of an autobiography was gradually slipping away because as it were, most of my earlier dreams were looking less likely to come true. I watched the first two seasons of Chris Rock’s ‘Everybody Hates Chris’ around that period as well and was impressed with the huge success of the comic television series where Rock gave an account of his life from 1982 when he was twelve years old. Then I thought, why not begin a literary version of my own story in the little way on this platform – blogging – and that was how the series was born. It was dated from 2003 and so far, four years have passed in the series. The last episode of the series was Episode 49 set in April 2007. Of course, like in ‘Everybody Hates Chris’, not everything you’ve been reading here is entirely true but assuredly, at least 70% of the story is true.

It has been awesome so far and sometimes I regret the breaks I had to take. Being a student then, I had examinations, final year projects and a lot of other distractions that often took my time. Then, getting out of school, job scouting, family minding and other issues also took its toll. Notwithstanding, it’s been a most rewarding experience. In the process of doing this series, I was nominated for blog awards in three categories in 2009 and one in 2010. Even though I did not win, no thanks to the ‘veterans’ I was nominated with (lol), it felt great to actually be considered for blog awards. In fact, I still include that as one of my career milestones in my official resume – Nominee, Nigeria Bloggers Award 2009 and 2010. Not bad, right? But yes, ‘Winner’ would definitely have sounded better. Well, half bread is better than none after all.

Sometime after I started, I decided I would turn the series into a book. Now, I’m thinking it would be a collection of three books. Work has begun in earnest on the first book anyway so please buy it when it drops o. Lol. Then, a television series or soap opera would definitely not be a bad idea too, so if you know anyone at MNet or other top international producers who might be interested, holla at me o! Seriously!

I have been asked on a number of occasions when the series would end. As at 2008 when it began, I thought the duration would be from 2003 till 2007 but truth is, so many events have unfolded in my life since then that I honestly don’t know when the series would end. My guess though is, it would stop on or before the year 2015 when I would turn thirty. However, I wouldn’t be able to say if it would run for that long on this blog. Lately, I’ve been itching to do some other things on this blog besides the series but not to worry; the books would tell you all you need to know. Remember, we still have about eight years (2007 – 2015) to go so you know it’s definitely far from over.

So that’s the little story behind ‘The Geebee Chronicles’ series. Hope you’ve been well acquainted so far. You can always update yourself by clicking HERE or on the ‘Series Episodes’ tab to access the full list of series episodes from start till date. I actually planned to continue the story from the last episode on this post but felt led to do something different. Mind me not; I just had to celebrate this milestone so please bear with me. Episode 51 is ready anyway and should hit you pretty soon.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES

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ANTONYMS OF A MIRAGE

Hey People,

In case you didn't know, my home girl and our very own Atilola has recently dropped a book that's definitely gonna set a new standard in the literary world for a long time to come (Well, until mine drops. Lol). Coincidentally, she's editing my book right now and trust me when I say she's doing one hell of a job on it. So, you can imagine what she's done on her own book. No flattery but she's the best writer and editor for miles so if you're looking for someone to do some magic on your book, you know where to turn. 


I just finished my copy of 'Antonyms of a Mirage' and in spite of how much I tried to 'mise' the book, I couldn't. It's a page-turner, trust me. 


I present to you Atilola Moronfolu's 'Antonyms of a Mirage'. Now, tell me the simple mention of that title alone hasn't blown your mind. 


Here's a preview from one of the stories in the book. 


A preview from ‘In My Pocket’

‘Goshe – A short form of Shokolokobangoshe

Scenario 2

Mummy Bobo: Olowo ori mi (owner of my head), how was that favourite food of yours that I made for you? I am sure you enjoyed it. I have come to tell you about Bobo, your son. He is about to write his SSCE exams. The other day, I heard my senior wife bragging to her cousin that kola, her son, made all his papers two years ago because he is hardworking and brilliant. She then said she is sure Bobo will do the opposite and fail woefully. Olowo ori mi, please, don't let my enemies laugh at me. I know you can help me get the exam questions on the eve of every exam paper. This is the only way Bobo will be able to prove her wrong and shut her mouth forever. Daddy Bobo, you always say you love me more than my senior wife and if you really mean that, you will not let her have the last laugh over me.

Chief Goshe: Woman! Woman!! Woman!!! I have always warned you about this Bobo of a boy, but you will never listen to me. You spoil him too much, I hope he won't be the source of your downfall in future. Anyway, I will give you what you request, after which he will go to the UK to start his foundation course. You better warn your son to buckle up now, because there is no way I will fly over to meet David Cameron to organize exam papers by the time he gets to the UK. A word is enough for the wise. For now, the exam questions are not a problem. I have the education sector IN MY POCKET!

Scenario 3

Oloyinbo: (Getting up from his two minutes prostration, which Chief Goshe acknowledged by massaging his head with the sole of his left foot, he then starts hailing loudly) Baba Goshe, Baba mi, you will live long, your enemies will not see their children. Anyone that says it will not be well with you, it won't be well with them too.
Baba mi, the time has come. I need your help seriously. It’s time for the councillor election for the local constituencies. As I told you last year, I intend to contest and since I have adopted you as my political father, who else will I run to but you? Baba Goshe, don't worry about my credentials. The minimum requirement is the SSCE result and I have already sorted that out with some boys and now have my results. All I need now is your backing and support. Baba mi, I am in your hand now o.

Chief Goshe: Oloyinbo, my nephew, see your mango head like that of my father. You want to run for councillor, hmm? I thought you were joking when you mentioned it last year. I hope you know the implications of what you are doing? The politics of our time is not for the lily-livered at all. You have to be on your toes at all times. Be ready to make friends and enemies, be ready to do anything to protect your political career and even your life from political detractors. It’s a dog eat dog world and make sure you are ready for all the consequences. You should have just accepted the business I offered to set up for you, but you youths of nowadays have been bitten by the get-rich-quick bug. Since you insist, I will help you. I will take you to a meeting tomorrow, where you will meet some powerful people. But know this one thing, you must not, in turn, bite the fingers of these powerful people, including mine, when you win. You will have to dance to their tunes. Otherwise, the ground will have no choice but to reject you.
After tomorrow, your victory is a done deal. Even if you don't contest, you have won! It’s a done deal, I have the electoral system IN MY POCKET!

Scenario 4
Sisi Peperempe: (After a steamy sex session) Honey boy, cookie crumble, sweetie, darling, sugar! I need your assistance o. You remember my youngest brother, Dodoyo, he's in Anti-graft commission’s custody. He was arrested last week
(Kissing his fat filled pot belly). They said he posed as a minister and defrauded some companies. You know the story of my family and how Dodoyo and I had to see ourselves through life by all means possible. He's the only family I have. We have gone through so much and he doesn't deserve jail time or to lose all he has worked for. (Pouting her lips, with permanent red lipstick on) Baby boo, you must help Dodoyo or else ehn...

Chief Goshe: Sisi Peperempe! C'mon, rest your little head. Why are you worrying yourself over nothing? I am disappointed in the way you keep worrying and emphasizing on this issue. After the three years of us playing this 'love game', you still worry about these little things. Before you start your rants again, don't worry I forgive you. I guarantee you that it is settled. Give me a maximum of two days, Dodoyo will get out of custody and all his frozen assets will be returned. Plus the anti-graft commission, plus the person that created the anti-graft commission, I have them all IN MY POCKET!

Scenario 5

Mr. Sinwonje: (Smacking his stomach during a meal of Suya and bottles of Lager beer at a popular elite club in Abuja) Chief Goshe, what are you going to do about this latest development now? I think Mr. President is serious about this power thing this time around o. If those Japanese people dare sign that contract of the electricity overhaul in this country, that line of business is over for me o, and you know that means you will also lose your regular cut. Hmm, Goshe, this is not good news at all. That is my major income-generating business and I use it to keep body and soul, Princess and Priscilla together. Imagine that this whole country, Nigeria, will not need generators or diesels to make their life easier. This is serious disaster. I will do anything to make it fail….

Read the rest of this and a lot more in your copy of Antonyms of a Mirage

Watch the trailer HERE


Buy ANTONYMS OF A MIRAGE on Amazon

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EPISODE 49 - COVERING MY TRACKS

Have you ever told a lie? Of course you have and claiming you have never told a lie right now has just added another feather to your cap of lies. LOL. Now, I’m not going to dwell on how many lies you have told or how many more you intend to tell but one thing that constantly leaves me wondering is the length we often go to cover our tracks when we lie. Mehn! It’s an entire ordeal on its own and usually, when we walk that road called ‘cover up’, we find ourselves wishing we had never told the lie in the first place. Sometimes, we create a maze or web of lies that we get lost or entangled in and practically believe our own lies. In a bid to impress a girl, I once told a lie that I had gone on dreadlocks for three months and had to cut it because I was going to take up an official appointment. Of course, she was impressed (ridiculous, right?) and somehow she told someone else who told someone else and before long, a good number of people believed I actually had dreadlocks at a time. At a point, I practically believed it too and had to remind myself on a few occasions that I never had dreadlocks at any time! Unfortunately, I’m still yet to let those people know they believed a lie and I hope they don’t read this post someday. On second thought, I wouldn’t mind as that would give me a chance to clear the air on the ‘dreadlock story’.

I have often wondered why the Ten Commandments say nothing about lying. 

Source

After all, we have ‘Thou shalt not steal’, kill, commit adultery, and all that but how come we do not have ‘Thou shalt not lie’ Maybe it’s not wrong to tell a little white lie after all, right? (Like there’s a black lie or green lie or lies in various colour shades). You might as well ask why it was not written that ‘Thou shalt not sneak into your girlfriend’s house at night when her parents are asleep’ or ‘Thou shalt not visit a brothel to sleep with prostitutes’ and all the other vices you can imagine. The fact is, we all know the difference between right and wrong and it is definitely wrong to lie. Perhaps one of the punishments we often get for lying is the ordeal we have to go through while trying to cover it up and the unfortunate event of getting caught sometimes. 

As I sat in a bus on my way from the bank to the cybercafé, a myriad of thoughts ran through my mind. Had I just lost three hundred dollars? It was particularly ridiculous considering the fact that I had not even laid hands on this money yet. I experienced a trance of some sort as two entities conversed in my head.

“Come on, you really didn’t lose the money. After all, it was not yet yours,” the first person I would like to call Geebaba pointed out.

“But it was already sent to you?” the second person, Geebizles countered. “All you had to do was collect it so it was yours already. You lost it.”

“Okay, let’s face it,” Geebaba said, “It was illegal money anyway so you can just brush the dirt of your shoulders and move on.”

Geebaba’s words made sense to me. True, I was actually swindling Miles Peck of his hard earned money so maybe it was best I let it go without any hassles.

“Rubbish!” Geebizles countered. “How would you let three hundred dollars go? That’s about thirty six thousand naira; an amount you could only possibly make in three months!”

“Come on, Geebizles” Geebaba said, “Don’t poison his mind!”

“Oh shut up Geebaba! You want him to throw away his investment just like that?”

“Investment? What investment?” Geebaba queried.

I wondered too. What investment was Geebizles talking about?

“The amount spent on his cybercafé airtime and the hours he has spent building an all-too-willing maga in Miles Peck!” Geebizles clarified.

“Oh, ok. You have a point there,” Geebaba agreed eventually. “He shouldn’t throw it all away just like that although I still have my reservations.”

“Better keep them to yourself, brother!” Geebizles snapped.

And that was the end of the conversation. I looked up and realized I was close to my bus stop.

I settled in a comfortable corner in the cybercafé and when I went online, none of my magas were available for a chat. I was not surprised anyway. It was barely two p.m and the eight hour time difference meant it was about six a.m in North America. I read offline messages from each of them. Miles Peck had asked if I had collected the money. Dean Flank had written that he was dying to chat with me again and hoped I could get a laptop soon with the money he would send so we would be able to chat at anytime. Luke Pine had written that he would be coming to Ghana for a medical conference the next month and would be glad if we could meet there or perhaps he could squeeze out time to come down to Nigeria briefly. He hoped we could chat about this later. He added that he had not forgotten about the money he was to send me to get my international passport and he would send it before the close of day. The last message hit me like a bag of bricks. Close of day? I looked at the time he had sent the message and confirmed he sent it at 7.41a.m. That would mean 11.41pm on the previous day in North America. I prayed ‘close of day’ meant the present day and that he had not already sent the money. If he had, I would have a heart attack!

I was still contemplating how to explain to Dean and Luke not to send me any money using my name without making them suspicious when my phone rang. It was my classmate, Nuel.

“Hey Nuel, what’s up? I said as I received the call.

“I’m good bro. Where are you at? I’m coming to your place.”

Just then, an idea occurred to me. It was as though a light bulb suddenly got turned on in my head. It was an Eureka moment. Why had I not thought of this earlier? I wondered. It all sounded so easy.

“Nuel, you have a valid drivers’ license, right?

“Yeah,” my friend answered. “What’s that got to do with anything? Are you home?”

“Look, I need you to come meet me right away. I’ll explain when we see.”

I had suddenly recalled what the banker at the Western Union stand had suggested about getting someone with any of the three acceptable IDs to receive the money. Somehow I had been too grief-stricken to focus on the idea. Nuel had a valid ID and could easily help me collect whatever Dean and Luke were going to send. I heaved a deep sigh of relief.

Getting Nuel in on the plan was pretty easy. I was glad he didn’t try to preach to me or dissuade me from the act.

“Hope you’re not scared, bro?” I asked in a bid to know for certain he was in.

“Scared? What for? I have like three friends doing this stuff now. In fact, I’ll join you guys in this business soon. I wouldn’t mind making some easy dollars too.”

I smiled. I knew I would have to give Nuel a cut out of the cash but I really wasn’t bothered. How much could he ask for anyway? I thought for a second if he wouldn’t try to swindle me but waved the thought off immediately. He wouldn’t dare. If he did, I’d teach him a lesson of his life. Besides, he could see that I had someone like Presido as my mentor in the business and Presido  hardly seemed like someone anyone would try to mess with. I typed away in most convincing way I could reminding my magas that I had just my work ID which was unacceptable for claiming international money transfers in my country so they would have to send the money using my cousin’s name pending the time I was able to get mine. I filled in Nuel’s details and sent the email to Dean Flank and Luke Pine.

I thought about the three hundred dollars trapped in space and Miles Peck’s message requesting to know if I had collected the money. I couldn’t risk losing the money but I wondered if my delay wasn’t a risk in itself. After thinking for a considerable period, I decided to come out open and let Miles know what was happening. I sent him a message that I had tried to cash the money but couldn’t because my work ID wasn’t accepted. I left the message at that and did not bother asking him to resend it. I had a good feeling he would try to suggest an alternative. The guy was in love with me after all. My assumptions proved right and when we chatted that evening he told me how sorry he was about my not being able to get the money. I chuckled.

“AY, do you know anybody you trust that has a valid ID?” he asked.

I felt like break dancing. It was either I was a damn good prophet or this guy was just so predictable.

“I don’t want you to go through any trouble sending me money, Miles” I declined.

“AY I love you and I want to go through the trouble, okay,” he said stubbornly.

I refused to type anything for almost three minutes.

“Are you there?” he asked.

I didn’t respond.

“AY, please talk to me.”

I waited for another two minutes until I was sure his heart was about to blow up.

“Yes I am here.”

“Why are you not talking to me?” he said.

“You just said you love me?” I wrote.

“Yes, I do, AY.”

We went totally romantic for another one hour and I sold him stories of how I had been dumped by the first and only man I ever loved and how I was afraid to love again. He told me stories about his first and second wives and the tough divorces he had to go through. For the first time, I truly felt so close to Miles Peck and I wished I was really the model in the picture. On his insistence, I sent him Nuel’s details and he promised to retrieve the money he had already sent and resend to the new contact. I left the café that day at almost twelve midnight. It was a most eventful ten hours.

By the weekend, I had gotten three hundred dollars from Miles Peck, two hundred dollars from Dean Plank and two hundred and eighty dollars from Luke Pine. In my first week as a Yahoo-Yahoo boy, I had made almost eight hundred dollars! That was almost a hundred thousand naira at an exchange rate of N120 to a dollar in April 2007. Nuel proved to be a worthy partner but at a rather tough expense. I coughed out almost ten thousand naira in total for all three transactions and I knew I couldn’t keep using him. I had to get an alternative, a beautiful female preferably, one whose face I could actually use for future purposes and for prospective magas. I thought of using BG but realized her pregnancy would make it difficult for her to get active in the field if need be. I decided to discuss with BG’s sister, Cher.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES

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EPISODE 48 – IDENTITY ISSUES

One Bible story that has never ceased to amaze me is the story of Abraham. It was my favourite story as a child and the song ‘Father Abraham has many sons . . .” was one of the earliest songs I learnt. The story of this Biblical father of faith is very extensive but I’d like to focus on part where he was first introduced. God simply called him and asked him to depart from his father’s house and from his kindred. Now, this was a guy who was more or less a prince in his own right. Everything appeared to be going on right for him but he was
instructed to move. The story gets much more twisted as God did not even specify where he was to go. He was told to go to “. . . a land where I will show you”.

Source

I would like to relate Abraham’s case here to the starting up of a new business venture and not knowing where the road leads. You don’t know what to expect but you keep moving anyway. The frightening bit about this situation is the strong possibility of getting hit by unexpected events at anytime. I can hardly imagine what could be worse. It is almost like a case of a blind man walking alone on an express road and hearing the sounds of speeding cars as they race past. He knows he could get knocked down at any minute. However, in Abraham’s situation, there was a clear difference because he was sure that God who had instructed him to move had his back. Now, what do make of a situation where you decided to move on your own without any such divine instruction?

I was chatting recently with someone I have come to admire and respect very much and we got talking about the ways of God. This discussion was prompted when I reminisced on the days while I had my brief stint in the ‘Yahoo-Yahoo’ business and said God probably allowed me to prosper in it for some reasons. She however objected saying God could never have been responsible for my success in the venture because He never supports anything bad. I proposed that God sometimes allows some things even though he doesn’t necessarily cause them, stressing on the ‘permissive’ and ‘causative’ will of God in my opinion. I assume the permissive will of God comes to play when He allows some things happen without directly influencing the occurrence. For instance, I strongly believe it was the permissive will of God that was in action when Job, faithful as he was experienced hell and went from grace to grass. The Lord simply allowed Satan to hurt him even. A situation where bad things happen to ‘good’ people or good things happen to ‘bad’ people in our world today could also be a function of the permissive will of God. On the other hand, I believe the causative will of God is manifested when He directly causes something to happen. Such instances would include God’s judgment on Sodom and Gomorrah or his judgment on the house of David and Israel for the dual sins of his adultery with Bathsheba and later for numbering Israel or I daresay, for the bad things that happen to evil people in our world today (Look who’s talking. Lol) and the good things that happen to good people. I still remain resolute on my opinion until someone convinces me otherwise. The fact remains however that God is unquestionable and He does anything as He sees fit. There is no searching of His understanding and an attempt at such would be like, in Solomon’s words, chasing after the wind.

Within a week of my venturing into the ‘Yahoo-Yahoo’ business, I had made three steady contacts whop had already made some financial commitment to prove how serious they were about me. Miles Peck sent me three hundred dollars the following Monday via Western Union. I was almost certain I had to be dreaming. In April 2007, three hundred dollars was equivalent to about thirty six thousand naira at an exchange rate of about N120 to a dollar. That was like the total money I made in three months after a lot of hard work working as an Office Assistant at an Art Gallery, taking private lessons for two kids and writing short stories for a magazine! Now, I was making that at a go! It had to be a miracle. Dean Flank and Luke Pine promised to send me some money during the week so I could apply for my passport (I told them I had none).

I was at my bank the following Tuesday morning. I previously stopped by at a Computer center to get a wait-and-get ID designed with my alias. I had chatted again with Miles the day before.

“AY I have sent the money. You see how serious I am about you?”

“Oh, Miles. You really didn’t have to.” I replied. “I really don’t need your money. Let’s build our friendship first.”

He sent a ‘sad smiley’ on the screen. “I know AY but I want you to trust me, okay.”

I chuckled to myself as I registered the irony. This old man was trying to win my trust whereas I was the bad guy here.

“Okay I do but please let’s not rush things, okay?” I assured him.

He sent a ‘smiling smiley’ this time. “You just go get your money okay.”

“Alright Miles. Thanks again. I appreciate.”

“You didn’t ask for the secret question. You’ll need that to claim the money.”

Truly, I hadn’t known that. I had never collected money via International money transfer before so I had no idea.

“Oh really? Sorry I didn’t know that” I replied, consoling myself that I was making a honest statement at least.

He spelled out the details and further educated me on what it would take to retrieve money on a Western Union platform. I was thrilled and again I wished I was really the model in the picture. I felt sad at the inevitability of the fact that I would have to break his heart someday.

“You have an ID, right?”

I had none. The only IDs I had were my working ID at the Art Gallery and it bore my real name. I shrugged as I realized it wouldn’t be a problem. All I had to do was make one and there were a million and one computer centers that could create one for me in minutes.

“Yes I do.” I replied.

“Good. Now, please send me another sexy picture of you.”

“Okay Miles. I’ll do that right away.”

“So you’ll get the webcam once you get the money, right?”

I shivered again. In one of our earlier chats, Miles had requested to see me on webcam. He had even turned on his own webcam to reveal a video of a fat, hairy Caucasian man waving and smiling on the screen. I had to think fast. Webcam? The system I was using had a webcam but I would never dare turn on the device and show my ‘maga’ a black guy instead of a sexy black goddess!

“I don’t have one on this computer.” I had told him.

He had not brought up the subject again until that Monday night.

“Okay I will.” I simply said this time, deciding we’ll cross the bridge when we got there.    

At the bank, I went straight to the Western Union section and the banker attending to me asked me to fill out a form which I did. I smiled when I saw the part where I was to fill the question and answer and I gladly did. I passed the form back to the banker and he perused it for a few seconds.

“Can I see your ID please?”

I smiled and reached into my wallet. The ID was still fresh and I hoped the man would not smell a rat. For a second, I wished I had scratched it up a little just to throw off any suspicions. I summoned courage and passed the plastic ID card to him. He collected it and smiled. Then he shook his head. My heart skipped a bit.

“Sorry, you can’t use this, sir,” he said, still caressing my card.

“Why?” I asked dumbfounded. “That’s where I work.”

I had produced a replica of my work ID but simply changed my name. Truth was, I cashed my salary cheques with my work ID and used it as a form of identification all the time so I wondered why the ID bearing my alias could not fly.

The banker gently slided the card to me

“For Western Union, you require any of these three; your drivers’ license, your international passport or your national identity card.”

I had none of the three required IDs. I retrieved the card and sighed.

“What do I do now, sir?” I asked the banker stupidly. My three hundred dollars was disappearing right before my eyes before I even had the chance to touch it.

He still had the smile on his face. Was he mocking at me or what? I wondered angrily. Did he know my secret?

 “You just go and apply for any of the IDs. Your money would still be available for sixty days. Better still, you can contact the sender to retrieve the money and resend to another person with the required ID and the person can come and pick the money. However that would require extra charges for the sender though.”

I thought about the suggestion. Applying for an International passport would cost me about twelve thousand naira. I assumed that was about hundred dollars. Lol. A drivers’ license would cost me about six thousand (about fifty dollars). I had no such money. Besides it would take at least a week for either of the IDs to be ready. I thought about the second option. If I dared tell Miles Peck about the situation, would he not suspect foul play and immediately severe all ties with me? I couldn’t take that risk. Besides, I still had sixty days. I remembered my other two 'magas', Luke and Dean. They had also promised to send me money that week. I realized it would be a disaster if they sent the money to my alias again for which I had no ID. My heartbeat accelerated as I left the bank. I headed for the café immediately. I had some money to rescue. 

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES

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EPISODE 47 – MAGAS DEY PAY!

My induction into the Yahoo-Yahoo world was hardly ceremonious. I had always envisaged this world as a cult of some sort where one was required to pass tests of all kinds and prove his loyalty to some higher power. Well, in actual fact, that happens especially when one moves up the ladder. I have heard of cases where people have resorted to voodoo and other extreme diabolic means to swindle people of their money. Those at this stage make thousands and hundreds of thousands of dollars, pounds or euros as the case may be. However, I was still at the lowest rung of the ladder and so I was confined to the crumbs. I didn’t mind as long as I got something. In fact, immediately I understood the vast possibilities in this illegal venture and the things I might be required to do as I ascended the hierarchy, I decided I would never wait that long. I just had to get enough money to see me through BG’s pregnancy and take care of any other financial obligations and I would be cool.

“Geebee, do you realize we could be millionaires in another one year?” Sam informed excitedly, as we began our preliminary work.

“Just think of this,” he continued. “If we make like a couple of hundreds of dollars for now, by next month, we could be making like a thousand plus. In another few months, we would be sending cheques and doing transfers here and there and that’s where the big bucks come in.”

I stared at my friend blankly. If only the guy knew why I was doing this, I thought. Sam seemed determined to make this venture his full-time job whereas I hated the fact that I would have to trick people and rob them of their hard-earned money. I might have been involved in numerous vices but I was not a thief! A voice in my head told me I was fooling myself.

“Sam, I think we should just do this for a while, get the little we can get from it and get out. It’s really not the best way of life.”

My friend looked at me as though I had just told him I slept with a crocodile.

“Are you serious? What is wrong with you, man?” He touched my shoulder tenderly. “This is a whole new world out here for us, a vast land for us to take over and you’re talking of just getting the little we can from it?” He shook his head disapprovingly. “I wonder why I told you about this. Bro, you’re breaking my heart!”

“Let’s face it, Sam” I began. “We will be swindling people of their hard-earned money. That’s stealing.”

“Of course it is,” Sam said angrily, trying to keep his voice down. “Who are we stealing from here? Not our own people. We are going to swindle white men, the same bastards that kept us in slavery for centuries . . .”

“Oh please!” I cut in, irritated at his revolutionary approach. I had to laugh and he joined me almost immediately.

“Was it you that was sold into slavery? Let’s not try to use that idea to justify this. What is wrong is wrong!”

Sam smiled and stared at me for a while. “So, are you saying you’re no longer interested?”

“Of course not! I’m only saying I don’t plan to do this forever.”

“Whatever man,” my friend said with a wave of his hand. “I’ll remind you one day when we begin counting our millions on how you said you didn’t want to do it forever.”

By the end of the first day, I had successfully registered my new profile on a dating site. I selected a random name, AY as my handle. I claimed I was 28 years old, a Nigerian and a writer working with a publishing outfit. I got about fifty pictures of a particular model from a modeling site. The model I selected as my face was a gorgeous African-American beauty. She was so stunning that I found myself fantasizing about her. It sounded pretty ironical that I was attracted to a face that was supposed to be mine. For a while I wondered how many other guys were using her face for the same purpose I was. I integrated my new profile into the dating platform and began to send multiple dating requests making my preferences male Caucasians between the ages of 45 and 70. Presido had schooled Sam and I that the older the men, the more lonely and liberal they were.

“Most white men you find on dating sites between the ages of 45 and 70 are desperate men who have either had their hearts broken at one time or the other or who have been through one or multiple divorces” Presido had informed.

“These men are only looking for young women who they could settle down with and retire with. Of course they also look out for good sex and believe black young women can give them all the pleasure they want. They won’t mind spending all they can to get such women.”

With these at the back of my mind, I went to work. Two days later, I was back at the café and checked my inbox for possible responses to my requests. I had sent about thirty requests to various Caucasian men previously. My inbox revealed that I had sixteen responses. I was elated! However, my excitement gradually waned as I opened each mail.

“I am not going to fall for any of your Nigerian scam. Get lost!” the first mail read.

“I have a woman already. Thank you for your offer” the second read.

“Go find another man to scam,” another read.

There were other responses that were far from encouraging and I was almost tempted to quit the entire thing right then. Most of the Caucasian men were not ready to date a supposedly beautiful Nigerian girl they believed could be a scammer. I could hardly blame them. My country had a reputation for its people being involved in high profile scams and only a few years before, it had been listed as the world’s second most corrupt nation. I was not surprised no white man wanted to date me. The eleventh mail brought a flicker of hope. The sender’s name was Miles Peck.

“Hello AY, thanks for contacting me. You are so beautiful and I would like to have you to myself forever. Please reply.”

I felt like break-dancing. All the discouragement I had previously felt over the earlier mails I had read disappeared in an instant. I replied immediately.

“Hello Miles, I am glad you responded. I believe we can go far with each other, God willing. I would love to know more about you and I’ll gladly tell you about myself too. All you need do is ask. I’ll be waiting. AY.”

I proceeded to read the unread mails. I encountered a few more unpleasant responses but I was not bothered. I got two more nice responses, one from Luke Pine and another from Dean Flank. I was encouraged and responded immediately. Before I sent the third response, I got another mail in my inbox. Miles Peck had responded! I read the mail immediately. He asked me to send more photos of me and if I wouldn’t mind chatting. I responded again, sending him my messenger handle. Ten minutes later, we were chatting.

Miles Peck was fifty-seven years old and a retired construction engineer now running his private firm. He had been divorced twice and had two children who were both long gone from home.

“My daughter is thirty one and my son is twenty-nine. They are both older than you in fact,” he said in our chat.

“Really?” I asked. “So do you mind dating someone young enough to be your daughter?”

“Of course not. My daughter would be glad to meet you in fact.”

I was excited. “Yeah, I would love to meet her too.”

“So can you come and meet me in New Jersey soon?”

I almost jumped. What? He was asking me to come meet him. I was about to tell him I’d love to when his chat line came in.

“I can pay for your ticket if you don’t have money,” he added.

“Really? That would be wonderful. I would have to think about it though.” I wrote in pretense.

“Come on, AY. I just want you to come and visit me for two weeks.”

As we chatted on, I felt like my head was in the clouds. It was hard to believe someone I just began chatting with was already falling heads over heels in love. Was the guy drunk? I wondered. However, he sent me a line that sobered me up for a while.

“I have heard a lot about Nigerians. I hope you are not a fraud.”

I wished I could tell him right then that I was not really the beautiful woman he thought I was but I was already way in over my head. I summoned courage and assured him I was none of such. In fact I told him I was not interested in him sending me any money just to get him off the scent. However, to my greatest surprise and delight, he persisted.

“I’ll send you three hundred dollars as a show of faith just to prove that I am indeed serious about you.”

I realized this had to be a dream; some serious dream. I promised to send him my contact details the next day and we ended the chat with me sending him an almost nude picture of the model. He went wide with excitement.

“I can’t wait to see you, AY!”

That very day, I chatted with Luke Pine and Dean Flank as well and more good luck followed. I had to spend an average of ten hours every day in the café for the next five days consolidating my contacts and making new ones. By the end of the week, I was sure the sky was not even my limit in the business. Unfortunately, Sam was yet to catch even one ‘maga’. I realized I was the luckiest Yahoo-Yahoo boy around.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.

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