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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

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Tuesday, 6 February 2018

Dumped In A Witches Cauldron


   The Monday sun seemed to disappear and fake a moon light in the angry sky. Ask me why and I can only say it's because I am curious and maybe a little tipsy. My curiosity bar is high this Sweet sweet monday evening and the festival is perfect. I have my camera, aimed at men with canes pretending to be in the sixteen hundreds. The year of the witch hunt. There are women with large branches and brooms at its tip. Obviously a cartoonist version of witchcraft which would look great on my blog. But this is all child's play, the men get loud and the women start to chant in a language I do not understand. I have an ear for languages, I may not understand the words but I can usually pin point the continent. This language sounds nothing like Dutch or Yoruba, so I just stare at them and quietly take my pictures. Through my lens, I see the head wizard point his magic wand at me and freeze. Maybe it was not such a good idea to attend a witch and wizard festival. But I put up a brave front and put my lens down, to try to decide the meaning of all the attention I'm getting.
  I try to walk away but I am surrounded by witches and wizards who now whisper in English, words that jolt my racing heart that I have been chosen. If it was a joke, I was not laughing. These surprisingly strong group, lift me up towards something I was not comfortable with. A boiling large cauldron with firewood sparkling and tossing flames that engulfs the massive contraption.
To my horror, I am Dumped In A Witches Cauldron. The pain does not hit my feet as I expect, but stabs my brain and my screams are muzzled by their cheers and chants. I try to grab the edge of the cauldron but it burns and I let go. Now I feel my feet peel and my knees buckle. I may just be me beef soup if I don't do something. So I ram into the cauldron and the this evil contraption and it's contents spill on the floor, the fire escalate and then the broth my unwilling flesh made quenched the flames. I screamed and cried and tried to ease the pain in my boiled hind limbs. They only set the cauldron back on the smoking firewood and try to light it up. This cannot happen again, I will not be sacrificed for anything or anyone.
   I let out a loud scream that makes passing people turn to me and as they do, I beg them to help me. It turns out they thought it was an act until I screamed loud enough to get their attention. As the police race in and others apprehend the criminals that tried to cook me. I fall into a deep slumber, my face is covered in a soothing oxygen mask. And as I inhaled it's pure contents, put over my face. The pain and shock seems to fade away like a distant dream and I am carried into an ambulance...
    I jerk and sniff and look at my heavy limbs, expecting to see burns. Instead, I realize I had fallen asleep reading the article about the woman who was almost boiled alive in Germany in 2018.
 What is the world turning into, are we going backwards in time? Going back to the terrible dark ages, I hope not. Because I know I would die fighting.
That was not a good dream, I say a short prayer and asked God to protect me, my dreams and guide my thoughts. This year feels so long and it's just February 7th.
   Lord have mercy.
 I have a shocking cold shower, I cannot bring myself near boiling water. If you like, call me superstitious. I have a quick bath and rush out of the bathroom and then have some warm lemonade.
The weather has been fluctuating like a raging pendulum, hot one minute and cold the next. It's not a good feeling, to be hot and then cold.
I am ready to go out and as I prepare for the day. I get forwarded messages and invitations to many Valentine's day events. You see, this weekend is the one before the D- Day. I have a white party to attend and thanks to Celine for making sure I won't be home alone this weekend.
 Ajoke and Bala are off to Fiji and I will too but not now, maybe in April. For now, I'm here and traveling no where.
But Celine's brother in-law is still in town and has invited me for his former schoolmates fortieth birthday. She is having a party at Eleko Beach and a photoshoot.
Celine was kind enough to shop for some fabric for my jumpsuit outfit. I would not even have gone for the party, but the thought of cutting and creating an outfit made me want to go.
Celine is such a darling, she remembered an outfit I wanted to make and sent me a screenshot of my design. I didn't know I left my fashion designers original design book with her. I looked for it everywhere before leaving my former house.
  Turns out that Henrik have it to her to get me fabrics from Dubai as my Valentine's Day gift. My husband knows me like that and she bought four fabrics, all a hybrid of lace and fabrics I had outlined. My gift to him was a trip to Taiwan, although all the earthquakes there scared me.
To have a partner like Henrik and loose him is heartbreaking.
'Rest in peace, my love', I say out loud as I hug the fabric.
 I place them in an extra large soft carry-on bag and head to work.
My phone is ringing and I put it on the car speakers.
'Ajoke hi'
'Ade my dear, how are you?'
'Good and on my way to work'
'You got the fabrics?'
'Yes, thanks. How long ago did Henrik pay to get it delivered?'
'October, the day you illustrated the design. You were going on and on about the fabric and how long it would take for the hand weavers to make them'
'Henrik is such a sweetheart, Ajoke I miss him'
'Ade we all miss him', Bala adds.
'Bala is awake? Hi'
'Yes Ade I am, I'm on a new cardio program. It keeps me up by five'
'Good for you'
'We will call you later, stay positive dear'
'I Will's, I add unsure of how I will Achieve that.
 My office was quiet and my work colleagues busy, they had to ensure all accounts balance and all clients get their monthly feedback.
I go into my office and start to cut out patterns all day. Just as I finish, I get a knock on the door. I hear babies crying and I freeze, here we go again.
 She has so much to say and cannot understand why I would not let my camera crew film my office. I hear my colleagues explain that this is the headquarters, so it has to be as scarce as possible on television.
 Nnoye enters and stops, she looks at my fashion illustration and the fabrics and has her hands full with her baby and a pram with Angel in it.
 I carry Angel and hug her and she jerks all excited and grabs at my nose and ears.
I missed her, I won't lie.
'Ade, give me Angel and say hi to Daniel jnr'
'All the fabric fibre isn't good for the babies I say as I lead us all out of my office.
'Its beautiful', Nnoye adds holding and admiring my design.
'I want one'
'Two fifty thousand...'
'Ade, you want build house on top this fashion?'
'The fabric is exclusive and a one off design, it takes months to hand weave them and create a lace that matches it'
'I see and of course, your design as craftsmanship'
'Two fifty thousand Naira this month or three hundred from pre Valentine's Day weekend with a months waiting list'
'Na real couture you dey sew'
'Haute couture my dear'
 Nnoye collects Angel and gives me Daniel Jnr, he cries and cries and I try to ease his tears.
'Have you checked?'
'Medically he is fine, just loud'
'Ade, we haven't really been hanging out like before...'
'You just had a baby, I lost my twins and my husband...'
'I didn't mean it like that'
'So what's the plan this weekend'
'The Ojora clan is having a family day together, they will officially all meet Junior and take pictures. If I had known, I would have ordered this outfit'
'What are you wearing?'
'Your design and your caftan with a special gele'
'That's true I made the family outfits'
'Cant be ready by Friday'
'No, I have four outfits to make and I don't have your current measurements'
'Its the approved outfits or you are cut off from the historic family portraits'
'See why I didn't want anything to do with them'
'I have a feeling Daniel's mum would have let you wear anything, she keeps talking about you'
'She played in my grandfather's compound as a child and he was nice to her when things got tough for them financially. She never forgets'
'Exactly', Nnoye adds and yawns.
I knew she was going to sleep off and my colleagues were getting agitated by Juniors consistent crying.
 I shake my head and get back into my office to work and the ladies follow.

 Isn't life interesting, you can have it all and yet still need to escape from that life.
 I just need to meet up with the deadline I have given myself, I can't wait to finish making my clothes.

 Thank you Henrik, I feel much love Everytime you do so little and it goes a long way.

**"ADE'S JOURNAL" Season 2 Episode 103**
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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