Thursday, February 28, 2008

Just A Baby

check. the most beautiful baby in the whole wide world.

When I was little,

• I used to wonder if adults took off their clothes in the bathroom, before taking a bath.
• I wondered why I was born to be little and not as an already grown adult so I could do all the things adults do.
• I had great imaginations. I told a story of the creation before the creation of the world, when there was wind, one hand was blown here, another wind brought another hand, then a leg, another leg, finally a body, then God was made.
• I believed NEPA lived in the ceiling.
• I used to breastfeed my doll and make a face as though she bit my nipples, like I see nursing mothers do.

Monday, February 25, 2008

So Embarrassing

I have missed church and fellowshipping among the children of God in God’s presence.

Yesterday, I was ready on time, though we got to church late, we were in time for the sermon.

When the pastor came out and told us we had a visiting pastor who would minister to us, I frowned, cos I always like any sermon from my pastor.

So the big shot is the zonal pastor from Ikeja and he immediately led us into prayers that were REALLY uplifting, and I apologized to God for almost not accepting His representative. The sermon was about the Hands of God.
Pray for the Hands of God to lift you out of the island of loneliness, of poverty, of failure, of blah, blah, blah …. Because when the hands of God are upon your life, you cannot go wrong. And we were given bible verses to support the mighty Hands of Gods.

To cut a story short, I enjoyed everything, until the last few minutes before the visiting pastor left.
“Is brother Lekan here?” he asked. “Please come forward.” Then he said something that made me think brother Lekan was about to be rewarded for something, because when brother Lekan passed by, I saw this surprised look on his face.

But how wrong I was, or maybe not so wrong. Definitely surprised was I that I was so embarrassed, I couldn’t lift up my head anymore, and definitely not to look at him when the pastor asked him to return to his seat.

The pastor said, brother Lekan is a worker in the church. He transgressed and has to be punished. So he was demoted, and transferred to the zonal pastor’s church where the pastor could keep a close eye on him.

What! We weren’t told what he did, but the bottom line was that he did something that a Christian isn’t supposed to do and was brought before the congregation. We were asked to pray for him, and pray for the Hand of God to take charge of his life.

My heart went out to him. I was confused. I have been enjoying God like never before then this has to happen? Does it mean that what the church has come to is spreading out our dirty laundries in public?

Doesn’t the verse, ‘he who is without sin cast the first stone’ apply in churches? If he sinned, and that sin is known to a few, is it right to bring it in public? What is the lesson? That if you sin and get caught, you will also be brought out for all to see?

I really don’t know. For some months now, I have been enjoying these worships and thinking that I was probably moved in this direction to experience something entirely different from what I am used to as a Catholic. I have been entertaining maybe finally leaving the Catholic Church for the Pentecostal. A lot of people criticize Catholics saying why do they confess their sins to Reverend Fathers.

A while back, a sister went to her pastor for help, when she felt she was under demonic attack, and she too was brought before the congregation for fornicating, and was also demoted from being a worker in the church.

Our problems taken before God’s representatives ought to be confidential, like a patient doctor thing. If things go on like this, there will be no trust, and should one be embarrassed in church, it is a matter of changing churches right? How long can one change churches. We are all in search of love and acceptance from God and shouldn’t be made outcasts.

And this year alone, I have gone to church more times than I went through out last year, and I really think our relationship has improved.

Please God, help me. I don’t know what to think anymore. I am also a sinner. Have mercy on me. I do not want to be brought before a congregation if caught in the act of sin.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008


In the days when I used to be a journalist, I ran a column titled YOUNG & FREE where I wrote some very nasty and not too nasty things. Some of the articles got me into trouble. Others didn't. One thing it did that I know is that it created an impression of who I am to some, that is teh fake me.

Anyway, this is one of such columns that angered so many and brought so many girls calling me. My only regrets of writing it was when a principal from the north called to tell me he was very disappointed. That his school library buys my paper and his students read my column. 'Imagine what you are telling these young girls?'



Is there a girl out there that has never thought of having a go with her fellow girl? Okay, of course there are some boring geeks like that and I wonder just what they do in their lives that give them a kick. Don’t they know that once in a while they have to catch some excitement?

People keep frowning at talks about gay and people who are gay. I frown also, but only when it involves guys. For the life of me, I cannot understand how a guy and a guy can actually give themselves pleasure, with all the girls around. But lesbianism is different. I understand it to an extent that a girl doesn’t give her entire life to it and going all the way to become a couple with another girl. At that point, deliverance is welcome. But what I am talking about is when out of want of a different kind of pleasure, girls have a go at themselves.

My girlfriend in South Africa called me almost at the end of last week to do some girl talk, and talking about her boyfriend, she said she suspects that everything is not alright with them, that perhaps it was her imagination.
“Sweetheart, that is how problems begin, from your imagination,” I told her.
“Abeg, I don tire for everything,” she said. “In fact right now, now lesbian I wan be.”

I couldn’t hold the laughter. “At your age!” I screamed. “You didn’t do it when you were still schooling here up north, where it is more popular, it is now?”
Anyway, she was serious about it, and after she rung off, I thought about it and why not? That is exactly the answer I have been looking for to all this boring days I seem to be having and missing Krys so badly. All I need is a female lover to blow my mind away.

As a matter of fact, I already did.
This thing between girls is so freaking cool and enjoyable, that you could drown in it. I pity guys who let girls go because the world these days have become such that a girl can actually do without the guy.
If she wants to get down, sex toys are there. Give me a nice vibrator and one of those strip teasers if I won’t forget about Krys.
Making the decision wasn’t so hard because I know it is so easy to get female lovers. I already have one whose affection I refused last year, when we met at a mutual friend’s house.

It happened that she was staying the night like me. I took her interest in me for granted till later at night when three of us had to share the big bed.
Miss Lesbian already took position in the middle of the bed so that one way or the other, she will have either one of us, or both of us.

I was just lying down and still talking with her, our mutual friend fast asleep when she made her move on me. In all my life, I have never been so turned on by a girl.
At first, I thought it was my imagination that she was tracing her fingers lightly through my thighs, and gradually the fingers would move up. When I didn’t feel her touch anymore, I concluded it was my mistake. But when out of the blue her hands went under my nightie, I knew it was no imagination.

Probably because she was unsure of what my reaction would be, she took her time. If she touched, she did it so lightly and stopped, maybe for me to make up my mind if I wanted her to continue or if not, I would just turn away from her.
But I didn’t make up my mind. No, maybe I did because I didn’t stop her. I didn’t turn away. If anything, I readjusted myself so that she could have easy access.

Call me anything, but that was one adventure I had no intention of missing out on. I was intrigued and wanted to find out just how far she could go and how good she was.
Miss Lesbian was good. Believe me. Unlike the usual where both the guy and the girl have to go through all the preliminaries to get turned on, we skipped them, or she did, because it was a one sided show, she giving the pleasure and I receiving. And did that girl know how to get me weak or what? And with just her hands; those magic fingers.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I stopped her by leaving the bed in an excuse to use the loo. On returning, I pushed our mutual friend to the middle and slept on her other side, so that Miss Lesbian couldn’t reach me anymore.
It wasn’t like I was offended. I just didn’t want her to have any illusions that we could do it. Although she is a friend of my friend, she was a stranger to me.
The next morning, she took my phone number saying she would be in touch. I nodded knowingly.
I never thought of her again, till she called me days back just to say hi. I invited her over and the rest is history.

Then I got this mails from readers.


Hi people, I am taking a break to let you readers write while I respond a little.
If your comment didn’t make my list here, next time. Thanks for being ardent lovers of Young & Free

Hi, I just read your column. Honey, lesbianism is no different from what a guy does with a guy because as you put it, there are guys all over town, why go for girls because you want something real and natural, you want to feel the ecstasy that no woman can ever give you. So dear, likewise with us guys; we are not crazy but adventurous. Please stop speaking badly about us. The world hates us already. Bk
Ok, Bk, I promise to stop saying bad about ‘you’ guys

Quite a risk you are taking writing about lesbianism. You know how society views all gay issues and those who publicly advocate it. I admire your boldness. Sam
Thanks Sam.

How can you be so bold?
Because mister or miss no name, only the bold can succeed in life

Hi, I like you really. Love the way you meander through the difficult terrain you have chosen to write. I like the choice of words and the skips. Keep writing about the absurd. Its another yet unexplored field in our native world. You might hit a jacky of the literals soon. Thumb up for you. Im Bashir
Thanks love. I will definitely hit that jacky.

Uzezi, why be a lesbian when I can take good care of you and give you the real thing not the fake lesbians give with the finger. Please do get in touch and let’s start. Ayo.
And what are we supposed to start, Ayo?

I invited her over and the rest is history … I long suspected you to be a lesbian, Uz; with the way you always pounce on guys. True, as your fan out there, I always knew ‘Sugar Stick’ meant nothing to you until your confession on Becoming A Lesbian. Yes I will call you anything. But those girls out there engaging in lesbianism, educate them that by that way they are still prone to AIDS. No escape route. I will tell you how, that is if you care to know. But if you don’t, I wouldn’t bother much. I still remain your fan. And guess what, a friend just told me that his wife of six years with two issues, has been hiding her true age from him. Why are women lying about their age? UZ, it is about time you tell us why. How old are you? I am Krys, too. But not the one you are missing o … but I still want to know your age. Bye.
Oh Krys, so you suspected me uh? Anyway, I will educate the sistas. About your friend and his wife, wow. I don’t know why people lie. People love hearing lies because truth hurts. How old I am? Are you contesting the fact that I am young as my column suggest?

I’m a lady of sixteen old. My name is Indo. I’m Fulani by tribe residing in the north. It’s just that I read your article. Please I want to become a party to you. I hope you will give me a chance. My sweet lady, I’m a virgin and I hate to interact with guys.
Indo, first of all, I think you are too young to be reading this column. Secondly, God created the man first, for a reason.

Hi Uzezi! Pray you are hale and hearty today. Got a little confused reading through Young and Free of this week. We’re left to imagine what transpired between you and Linda at the end of the previous column. Hope you may not end up confusing us the more next week. Cheers and more ink to your pen. Your fan and admirer.
Dear F&A, I only got into the full gist of what happened, after she called. Don’t be confused.

Hi, Harry is my name, and an ardent reader of the Mirror newspaper. I must tell you your article about ‘Becoming a Lesbian’ is soooooooooooooooooo great and interesting, infact I had to read it over and over again, cos I guess it takes guts and professionalism to actually write stuffs like that in Nigeria. This is cos we are great pretenders in Nigeria and we have also been blinded by parochial tradition. There are so much of your view I share, such as the fact that guys have no reason to indulge in such act, personally I dislike guys that are gays with a passion and can’t even stand there presence, cos I think it is disgusting and sick, but for lesbians I feel and know they have all the reasons in the world in as much as they can still get involved with the opposite sex.
Harry, I had to cut your mail cos I believe the rest of it is between us alone, since you revealed some secret about your friends. Well, I am still expecting to hear from you. And thanks for enjoying what I write. I rock.

The Case Of An Ex

…. and when the phone rang and I saw the number, I thought it was one of those cranks who call me after getting my number off the newspaper. I was putting little Anabel to bed as I answered, expecting my caller to either hang up or say, ‘baby how now? I see ur advert for magazine and I wanna know you. Baby how can I see u?’

“Who is this?” I asked again, getting ready to tell him never to call again.
“Wetin dey do you? U no dey hear? It’s Pius.”
I paused and checked the number again. “Pius?”
“Are u in Nigeria?”
“Came in yesterday?”
“Welcome back,” I said, hoping that I sounded nonchalant. “So you still have my number.”
“Always had your number.”
“How come you never call?”
“We don’t have anything to talk about?”
{Can u believe the shit!}
“Where are u?” he asked.
“Are u serious? I’m in Opebi too.”
I smiled. “Really? Where in Opebi?”
“Cottage. What are you doing in Opebi from Satellite Town?”
I told him.
“Come and see me now. Cottage is in…”
“I know where Cottage is. I have chiken pox?”
“Abeg no come. No come give me disease. Anyway, I came for my grandmother’s burial.”
“When is it?” I asked.
“On Saturday, I’m going back on Monday. Come and see me now?
“With my chicken pox? When are you leaving for Delta?”
“Ok. Will try and see you tomorrow then.”

Ok. We said goodbye and I picked up my book to read and repeated one sentence a thousand times. What the hell am I thinking of? Not him! After four fucking miserable years?
So I was asking myself what he looks like now. Finer, bigger? I shall know tomorrow. I refused to think of the good old days, because really, that relationship was a classified fling as far as I was concerned. Told him so then. A fling that lasted six months till he jetted out of good old Naija. And communication once or twice, after that, out of sight out of mind. Move on, life goes on.

Tomorrow came and I changed tops like ten times. I wasn’t dressing for him, I just wanted to cover some chicken pox spots not yet healed on my arms and majority of what I wear are sleeveless. So I settled for one with a countess Dracula sleeve and went to see him.
Thankfully, he had company. A mutual friend. Then they had to smoke and I politely asked them to do it in the loo.
“Since when Uzezi?” Pius asked. “Can u imagine. You used to light up for me in those days.”
Anyway, I was spared the smoke till another friend joined us. We were all talking but all I wanted was to jet cos I don’t trust him.
Can’t remember what I did that made him almost choke me to death because I refused to say ‘mingwo’ to him. His Urhobo greeting.
And they are like, say it now. I was screaming cos he was hurting me, but I wouldn’t say it.
“I am older than you,” he reminded me as if I didn’t know that. “So you can’t greet me in Urhobo.”
“How many years you take senior me? I don’t greet my elder brother that way,”
“Okay, we shall see.”
Eventually my stubbornness prevailed.
But I was reminded how much weight I have lost. Really! And I thought I was adding. “Did you miss me?” he asked when we were all leaving.
I smiled. “Just a little.”

And trust me later on my way to wherever and later in the day, thinking thoughts I shouldn’t. Just can’t wait for Monday to come so that he can return to his obodo oyibo and I can quench those wandering thoughts.

And later at night, on the phone, I asked him on the other side of the phone, “Guess which of my ex just got into town yesterday?”
“His name starts with P. is it Peter, no Pius.”
I smiled. “You can’t forget.
“So he’s back?”
“Just for a burial. He’s going back on Monday.”
“Okay. He came and couldn’t wait to call you …..”

All this going in circles, Uzezi. I need to wake up.


So, it has come and gone that I suffered chicken pox, and celebrated my valentine from the purse that the foul brought for me. Not Bad.

One week of being indoors was no joke at all. I read my novels at the slowest pace that I have ever read because I had to pause here and there to scratch that itchy place, to the extent that I got out of bed one night, switched on the light and chopped off all my nails before it rains disaster into my life in the form of sores.

Thankfully, the pox was wise enough to leave my face the way it is. So no spots. Thank God! As for the others scattered here and there, I am waging war of all sorts I can get my hands on.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008


It is appointed unto man to suffer chicken pox once in a lifetime, after that, no more.

I am screaming and this is not funny. How come I woke up today to discover that I am coming down with chickenpox at my age! Spoke with my dad on the phone to confirm if what I had was chickenpox. I asked if I had it as a child and he said no! Why the hell not? WHY NOT as a child???

They are not much yet, but I itch like hell. What will happen when they start puting to bed? And when they are through with me, hope they will take the spots away, because I scare to think about it! My skin oh oh oh oh. My Face! Sweet Jesus. WHY ME???

Finally I Walked Away

I have been saying I will, I will, since last year. Then finally like Brandy in that her 'Finally' song, I did the same. But while the R&B singer was singing about walking away from an abusive relationship, I am talking about walking away from my job that has been my only source of income for almost three years.

Yes. It is certified, I am so indeed, crazy. But I did it and I don't regret it. NOT even the fact that I am so cashless, totally broke changes the fact.

Before I walked, the rumour had already gone round the newpaper house that Uzezi has left. While some said I have resigned, others said I have started work elsewhere as if they are the ones that gave me the employment, others still, said I left to get married, then others reasonable said, I left to return to school.

Because through out January, I didn't work, they assumed I was gone, whereas, I was struggling to stay alive.

A day to the day I was to resume work, a Sunday, I went to the office to re familiarize myself with the environment, but I didn't feel it.

On Monday, Feb 4, I went to work, attended the editorial meeting of my desk and after the meeting, made up my mind I was leaving.

When I announced on Fed 7, that I had resigned, some where like, 'I knew it'. Most wanted to know where I was going, I said nowhere and I could tell no one believed that, becasue it would be crazy to leave your job for the unknown. But I am crazy, and I did leave my job for the sooo scarrrry unknown which I have been planning for almost two years.

I spoke with my bosses and they all had kind words for me. My publisher and eidtor gave me good advice and I was glad. It was even made better when I was told anytime at all, if I feel the need to return, I will have a job. Ain't that great. But me know says, me no dey go back there. Got to move on and forward right?

Outside my former office, on my way home, I looked heavenwards and said. 'I did it Lord, now You really have to rescue me because right now, I am approaching that point where there will be no turning back, so let's do it.'

I have a passion to pursue and while I know it will succeed, the preparation and planning is driving me bunkers with confusion. But, no, I won't be walking away from this new path, anytime soon.

Back From The Dead.

I have always heard that malaria kills, but I never believed it till I was bedridden 4 two weeks due to that damn illness.

It started like every other malaria and I quickly sent it to hell. Then a week later, after dinner, I threw up and continued vomiting all the through the night. By morning I was so freaky weak and totally dehydrated. First treatment began after the pharmacist prescribed, after three days of no changes, I thought I was going to die. Really. It was then I realised I really wanted to live. I remembered the verse from the bible that asked God of what use the dead were to Him since they cannot praise Him from the grave, and I asked Him the same question. In my weakness and sickness infected body, me myself and I did some serious prayers and binding and believing that by morn, I will be healed.
Then I was found in my room one evening crying because I was tired of being ill. i couldn't do the simpliest task for myself. I couldn't eat anything and the drugs made me sicker. One week and no improvement. There's so much more I need to do on earth. The next day, that treatment stopped and I got admitted for real. Three and a half drips and I was still a vegetable. Jesus.
Anyway, I am alive to tell the tale. Doc said I had it bad when the test came in. Said if my genotype had been AA, that it would have been worse for me, that becasue I am AS and have some immune whatever jargons he was speaking, I could fight it. I was like, 'really'. After this hell I have been through?
And the day I could walk round the house without panting, I thanked God for my health and prayed, please Lord, I never want to be ill again. Not even headache. I don't want it. Thank You for saving me.