I’m done with my first semester exams! I have two weeks to get lost in few books before the hustle and bustle of my final semester in the University Of Ibadan commences.
I saw this beautiful book today. Friend said I can’t take it home – why does everyone think I’m a book hoarder? My friend Blessing Mikariu thinks I’m going to engrave my name in all of her African books just because of a one time sticky note.
Seeing as I’ll be leaving for the Garden City tomorrow ( I wonder why it’s called a garden city. I see no flowers welcoming me home. But since it rains every day, Rivers State would suffice) I decided to do a quick scan of the book.
It’s a really creative book, unique and one of a kind. I feel like I’m reading Okechukwu Ofili and jollof of thecrazynigerian.com all at once.
This book by Bobo Omotayo is a collection of short Lagos-life observations turned ‘stories’.
Some funny paragraphs;
On the eve of my cousin’s engagement, a former colleague managed to register, incorporate, fake tax certificates for a security company just because I asked, “Where can I find bouncers for the reception party?”
He didn’t stop there; he created a company logo, company email address, a one-page company profile amongst other things. He was caught when he put his wife’s mobile number as contact details and when I called the number to request a revised invoice, his wife picks up responding “….ta lon soro jo, e ma pe number yi mo” – English translation – who is speaking? Please don’t call this number again.
After closer inspection at the invoice, I noticed the Manager’s name was made up using the first names of his two siblings….
…Which forces me to ask the five kobo question – when does it turn from love to ‘abeg jo’?, because at the 2,000-seater hall reception, husband and wife danced their way through the red carpet – sweeping the floor with what seem to be jubilation dance to the badly mixed selection of cliché wedding songs – it looked so promising.
Which leads to the conclusion, perhaps the preoccupation shouldn’t have been will Sunny Ave play at Mt wedding; it should have been will this person’s voice be music to my ears for years to come. It’s not letting your wife insist Saheeto Catering must do the samosa; it should be will I be able to chop belle-full in years to come….In all the complaints I hear from disgruntled married men, it all boils down to a simple analysis – he simply didn’t think about it. If most are honest with themselves, they’d realise that perhaps of they’d listened to homeboy Proverb “He who fails to plan, Plans to fail…”, they might just have a slightly different take on marriage.
Chinelo says Sunday aren’t meant for travelling and keeps asking if I’ll go to church in the evening. Chances are I’ll get to Rivers State at night. I tell her “I am the Church”.