Theme Layout

Boxed or Wide or Framed

Theme Translation

Display Featured Slider

Featured Slider Styles

Display Grid Slider

Grid Slider Styles

Display Trending Posts

Display Author Bio

Display Instagram Footer

Dark or Light Style

Powered by Blogger.

Search This Blog

Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

Popular Posts

Tuesday 28 February 2017

Footprints In The Mud, Washed Away By Flood


   A swarm of termites fly and crash into me, as I shield my nose, eyes and ears from their assault. The air is stagnant but the sound of their tiny, transparent wings, slicing into the air lingers. They push and shove and create the necessary drag they need to stay afloat. Hovering is not their strong suit, but the need to go somewhere, anywhere with light, that shines drags and attracts them like a magnet. The coolness of water calls to them, saying, dive in. And as they do, the surface is covered completely by upside down, termites. I swing and seat, trying to shove them away from my bright eyes, reflecting light and the moisture to them, resembles water.
I am not moved, yet jump and spank my back, as the giant termite finds a home in my back, underneath my blouse. These flying insects grow in numbers and keep calling on their comrades to come and witness this glorious night. I am not alone, I am with friends. Our pressing iron is plugged, hot and ready. I will flick away their wings and I am going to roast them alive, and Munch on their juicy core. Fueled by my childhood memories, I wait a bit, until my bucket is full. My friends, start to feast on the delicious snack and I cringed. Who sent me? As a child, I remember Lydia, fed me the delicious delight and this memory has fueled me to talk tirelessly about reliving this Precious moment. But like most memories, I am not the same. Many things I've done and said are like, Footprints In The Mud, Washed Away By Flood. I freeze and stare at the roasted shinge, the roasted giant termite. My secondary friends, rush to my side and start to devour the snack, I had made mouth about. It was clear, unspoken and undone but crystal clear. I was not going to partake in a memory, long gone and forgotten. This me, is different. Are you?
         Honestly, I do not know why a memory of a contraband snack, raced to mind. I cannot believe that even though, it's been decades, since I left my military secondary school in Jos. I still, hold on to this memory. A part of me, wishes that I had tried. Another is glad I didn't, but of all the memories, this one sticks. I even remember the senior that ate a termite alive. The thought of it, made me shiver. What kids do, when mummy and daddy are far from them. I suspect, she didn't actually eat it, but pretended to. All so that we would think her unique and daring. Instead, it made me scared of her and gave me nightmares.
 Why am I reminiscing about the past?
It is simple, the answer I mean.
Every time, I am betrayed by a friend, I remember me and my grand friends from way back when. These friends didn't ask me what jobs or contracts I could get them. Or did not care about, how important my story was to the gossip world. Well, that's because, I was in press club doing all the writing. People would come to me with stories and I gladly bugged them. But that was not all, I would illustrate and draw the story and still had my moral compass. If the story was too harsh and bullied anyone, I would not write about it.

 That was then and this is now.

  The world thrives on survives on gossip, bullying and breaking stories about people's private lives.
  I just never expected it to be me or to even come from my friend.
'How much, did the pay you?'
  I was angry and launching at her, Henrik carries me away from her and tried to calm me down.
'Let's me deal with her'
 I screamed at Nnonye and Ajoke rushed in with a plate of pounded yam and ogbono soup, with a large catfish that made me do a double take.
'What's going on?', Ajoke asked, not sure what else to say.
'Ready it, she even mentioned Frank. Everyone has forgotten about him and moved on, what is wrong with you?'
  You will not believe what Nnoye did next, she started to cry.
'Abeg dry that fake cry, from ya eye', I snapped at her and tried to launch at her.
'You know she is pregnant', Celine adds and tries to calm Nnoye down.
'You are not the only one pregnant, I'm pregnant, Celine is pregnant and even Ajoke that just had twins. Don't wait oooo, tell them, so that it can come out in tomorrow's papers'
 I grabbed my bag and signalled at Henrik.
'Let's go and leave this joker alone'
 Henrik shakes his head.
'Ade, let's not leave like this'
'She is a first class traitor, and I'm no longer her friend. Tell her so she knows'
 Celine got up and shut the door and I clapped my hands.
'Ade, cool down'
 I laughed and tilt backwards.
'Your story is there too oooo'
'I don't have any story to Tell' Celine adds nervously.
 At this point, I shove the paper in her face and then all hell broke loose. Our phones started ringing.
 Ajoke picks hers and it's Bala and then she tries to explain herself and tries to leave the room.
'Celine Abeg open this door', Ajoke snapped at her.
'You told them, that I was a desperate live-in, willing to settle for less?'
 She was quoting the write up and was shivering. This time, I calm down and hug her.
 Celine rushed and pounced on Nnoye and I shield her and try to protect Celine from herself.
'I'm sorry, but it was Tina that gave them all the information. This is what I told them to print', Nnoye said handing me an email print out.
 Most likely a corresponding email, building up to the write-up.
'I want a redaction, today today', Celine snaps.
'Bala is on it, the article said that he has kids outside his former wives'
'Please, you all are the only friends I have'
 I could not believe her words.
'Nnoye, it would be nice to see how you treat your enemies', I add.
Ajoke was looking at her and then she laughs.
'Ade, can you spin this?', Ajoke was off her hinges.
'Spin it, how?'
'Nnoye will never change, she's an attention whore. Well, in a negative way. But, this our Idibia deal didn't really create a buzz...'
 Me, I understand her. Bala has sommoned her. And she knows we won't solve this, if she does not come up with this crazy plan.
'So, we should what?'
'Brush the living daylights, out of her. Then make peace'
 Celine was serious and the picture of how many ways we could deal with her, made me laugh.
'So, let's soon'
 I loved how we plotted and planned and Henrik too joined in. I scripted a plan, a show of forgiveness. And the strategic manner of how, we will approach this and we have Nnoye a drafted copy to give her paparazzi.
 As she leaves, she begs for my forgiveness and I just tell her to go. On her way out, I realized that she did not lie, she just broke my trust.
Once she is out of sight and has driven off. I tell them to change tactics and we all laughed and loved my plan.

  Oh goodness, this coming media frenzy is just going to break or make my business.
And I cannot wait to pen down, all the drama as it unfolds...

**Season 2, Episode 5**
Share This Post :

You Might Also Like

No comments:

Post a Comment

Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

Follow @Busola Elegbede