Etisalat Nigeria releases Shortlist in the running for the 2015 Prize for Literature competition



In furtherance to the search for Africa’s most prolific debut fiction writer for 2014, Etisalat Nigeria has announced a shortlist of three very strong writers. The shortlisted writers and their works are Ndia Davids, An Imperfect Blessing published by Random House Struik-Umuzi; Chinelo Okparanta, Happiness Like Water published by Granta Publication and Songeziwe Mahlangu, Penumbra published by Kwela Books, Imprint of NB Publishers.

 

The judges are delighted at the quality of entries that has brought to fore a strong shortlist of three contenders for the cash prize of £15,000 and other rewards. According to the Chair, Panel of Judges, Etisalat Prize for Literature, Sarah Ladipo Manyika, “From a strong long list we are now delighted to announce this year’s shortlist which showcases hitherto untold stories from across the continent and beyond.”

The strength of the shortlist is exemplified in the belief that any of the shortlisted writers would make a worthy winner. “Whether it is David’s multigenerational family story set in Cape Town’s Muslim community at the dawn of the new South Africa, or Okparanta’s bittersweet tales of loss and love in Nigeria and abroad, or Mahlangu’s unflinching exploration of mental illness set in contemporary South Africa, each of these books is uniquely compelling. This is a shortlist that delights in the newness of the topics being explored and in the diversity of narrative form. From short stories, to the short novel, to the epic novel – each is a gem in its own right,” Manyika concluded.

Chief Executive Officer at Etisalat Nigeria, Matthew Willsher expressed delight at the quality of writers the competition has attracted to the Etisalat Prize for Literature competition. “The entries are a fulfillment of Etisalat’s goal of encouraging talents and improving literacy in the African continent. We commend the judges for the work they have done so far on this year’s competition and we are delighted with the strong shortlist which will ensure that a worthy winner will emerge. We will continue to encourage and recognize upcoming talents,” said Willsher.

A member of the Panel of Judges, Tsitsi Dangarembga sums it up this way: “This shortlist is a joyous celebration of a new range in voices of debut African writers. It says much of what contemporary Africa is offering the world.

Interesting snippets from former president Olusegun Obasanjo's book

The former presidents book, 'My Watch' proves to be a must read for Nigerians. The Excerpts below as posted on Facebook depicts the book as more of an exposé than an autobiography. Enjoy!

"By the Constitution, I had to inaugurate or prorogue the National Assembly on June 4, 1999. The most important officer in the National Assembly is the senate president and that office had been zoned to the South-east. And here was where Atiku Abubakar, my vice-president,first showed his hand and his character.

“Without seeking my view or approval, he started planning the installation of Chuba Okadigbo as the senate president. I did a background check on Chuba including his past as a student and made enquiries about him in the National Party of Nigeria (NPN) under (President Shehu) Shagari and no one would recommend him for the post of senate president.

“I left Atiku to go on his chase while I carried out a meticulous and detailed investigation and background check on each senator from the South-east. The one that appeared most appointable was Evan Enwerem. I canvassed the senate across the board for his election and he was elected. Atiku did not expect it and he felt sore.

“He began to strategise for Enwerem to be removed and Chuba Okadigbo to be installed. His strategy worked because I was at Abuja airport to receive a visiting head of state when the news reached me that the Senate had impeached Enwerem and elected Okadigbo. I was not perturbed. I came to understand from some senators including Florence Ita-Giwa, who later became my Special Adviser/ Liaison Officer to the National Assembly, that Atiku distributed US$5,000 each to some senators to carry out the ‘coup’.

“That was the beginning of bribing the legislature to carry out a particular line of action to suit or satisfy the purpose or desire of an individual or a group. The National Assembly had tasted blood and they would continue to want more. From the day I nominated Atiku to be my vice, he set his mind not for any good, benefit or service of the country, but on furiously planning to upstage, supplant or remove me at all cost and to take my place.

“That was what I brought him for, but he was impatient and over-ambitious.He was not ready to learn and to wait. His marabout, who predicted that despite being elected as governor, he would not be sworn in as a governor, which happened, also assured him that he would take over from me in a matter of months rather than years.

“All his plans, appointments of people and his actions were towards the actualisation of his marabout’s prediction. Once I realised his intention and programme, I watched him like a hawk without giving any indication of what I knew and letting down my guard. I could not succumb to the distraction, diversion and malevolence of an ambitious but unwise deputy.

“The work in hand was more important than a confrontationalrelationship with my deputy, a man over whom I knew I had far more experience and outreach in all matters. To alert him of what I knew he was up to, would only lead to lying, denial, more mischievous plans and more duplicity on his part.

“He was better managed that way. What was important was not allowing myself to be surprised or outmanoeuvred by him. I must always seize the initiative and know what was going on if not in his mind, but at least in his camp. That I did very effectively.

“Sometime in the fourth quarter of 2004, an associate of Atiku came to my residence at the Aso Villa from Atiku’s official residence. He felt uncomfortable and I tried to make him feel at ease. Then, he settled to tell me the story of what had just transpired in Atiku’s residence. I listened with rapt attention.

“He went on to say that Atiku told him that for him to become the President of Nigeria, the 2007 elections were only a formality.

“The seven ingredients he needed for his enthronement were already in his hands. He controlled the National Assembly because both the President of the Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representativeswere in his pocket. He controlled twenty-eight out of thirty-six governors. He had control of the media. His influence over the judiciary was overwhelming.

“What he needed was foreign endorsement and for that he had employed two lobby groups in the US and one in the UK. And finally, the money for the elections was in his purse.

“When the man finished, I thanked him without passing any comment. The man was surprised at my reaction and asked, ‘You have nothing to say to these?’ I said that I had nothing to say and I immediately called my ADC, Chris Jemitola, to play a game of squash with me.

“On our way to the squash court with my ADC, I said, ‘People at times make plans and leave God out of their plans.’ My casual remark struck Chris and he said, ‘Sir, that was a profound statement.’ I said that I made the statement because of what I had just heard of Atiku’s plan. I was not convinced he had put God in his plans.

“Atiku was confident and God was laughing. Most of Atiku’s ingredients soon started to fall out of place one by one. The first was the party, PDP.

“He thought I was powerless and had no clue about the execution of his plan with his group; part of his attack on me was for national chairman of the party to give the first salvo, then other things would follow as his grip on the party would be firm and consolidated.

“That salvo came in the form of a letter to me from the chairman of the party, Audu Ogbeh, who had fully defected with (Iyorchia) Ayu to Atiku.

“The letter, which was not the product of any issue or matter discussed with or at any party meeting, came suddenly. When I received it, I could read the sinister intention behind it.

“I spent that night writing my reply and I sent it in the morning. My reply was clear. I wondered why Atiku and his group did not realise that with my reply, the battle line was clear or maybe they thought that the seven ingredients would remain intact to the end.

“My assistants had moles within the Atiku group. Anything that they planned would be reported. That was the case after Ogbeh’s letter. They decided that Ogbeh should appear remorseful and come with the National Working Committee to apologise to me. It was not from their hearts, but to lure me to a ‘killing ground’.

“All pieces of information that were reported were verified because it would not come from only one informant. Timely information is a very important principle of war and also of politics. In politics, just as in war, what matters is not just your plan, but knowledge of your opponent’s plan. Knowing their plan, I had the choice of playing along with them or being firm, I chose the latter.
“I told Ogbeh that my relationship with him as national chairman and me as national leader of the party was based on mutual confidence and trust. But with his letter, my reply and what I knew of him then, I could no longer work with him in confidence and trust.

“There were only two choices left for both of us in our best interest and that of the party – he, leaves as chairman or I leave as leader of the party.
“The following Sunday, I called at his house, which I had done on several occasions in the past when there was an important party matter to discuss. This time, I asked him to give me an undated letter of resignation as the national chairman.

“I waited, he gave me but it was wrongly addressed to me rather than to the national secretary of the party as stipulated in the party’s constitution.

“Ogbeh reported to his group and it was decided by them to play on and to wait for my disgrace whenever I presented a letter of resignation not addressed to the national secretary.
“The informants did their job and I, once again, paid another visit to Ogbeh at his residence. He entertained me to a meal and drink, and changed the addressee on his letter of resignation.
“It would appear he never reported the change to his group. When I considered it opportune and appropriate, the letter was dated and presented to National Executive Committee of the party, which regrettably accepted the resignation.

“With that, whatever control Atiku claimed to have over the party began to crumble. But he did not think so and went on to boast that if I made my daughter the national chairman, it would be a matter of weeks not months before he would put her in his pocket.
“I therefore had to look for a successor chairman, who would be too big, uncompromising and inflexible to be lured and controlled by Atiku. I found such a man in Senator (Dr.) Amadu Ali, whom I had known many years earlier as a medical doctor in the army…”

 

Source: Linda Ikeji's Blog

Nigerian Literature - Introduction

Written by O. Ogunba

Nigeria is the country which has the greatest literary output in Africa. There are over fifty notable literary artists currently active and the sheer volume of the literature far exceeds that of any other black African country. Political independence in 1960 brought in its wake a great awareness of the problems of building a nation out of the diverse ethnic entities which make up the huge conglomerate called Nigeria. This fact has dominated a sizeable portion of the literature especially in the early years of independence.

The literature in question is written literature in contradistinction from oral literature or orature, and it is in English and some Nigerian languages. At present, Nigerian literature in English is the one which attracts greater attention and has the greater influence nationally and internationally. This prominence is because the literature has been produced by the new westernized elite who often have greater literary competence in English than in their indigenous languages. Although some highly literate Nigerians (for example Professor Akin Isola) have chosen to write in their indigenous languages rather than English, the number of writers who have made such a choice is very small indeed.

Nigerian literature in English has raised more issues relevant to our contemporary situation than the literature in indigenous Nigerian languages. Whereas the latter has largely been anchored to the past, invoking images and symbols of our rich heritage, literature in English has aligned itself more forcefully and with greater artistic profit to the wide and more diverse literature of the world. Thus, it is the Nigerian literature in English, far more than its indigenous language counterpart, that has raised issues of culture-contact and culture-conflict, the place of tradition in the modern ethos, the problems of the administration of a modern polity, as well as notions of sexism and the place of the womenfolk in our new reality. It has also been concerned with the way forward if the Nigerian nation is to recover from its present problems, realize its full potentials and become a member of the comity of prosperous nations.

Nigerians have cultivated virtually every known genre of literature including fiction, poetry, drama, the travelogue, biography and autobiography. Nevertheless, the emphasis here will be on prose fiction, poetry and drama in which they have made very significant literary achievements.

Source: http://www.onlinenigeria.com/nigerianliterature/#ixzz3LVWJHwuE

Former Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo Launches Autobiography

Former Nigerian president and Army general, Olusegun Obasanjo is said to be launching his autobiography titled 'My Watch' in Lagos today.

According to Sahara reporters, the launch of the three-volume book is now in progress at the Lagos Country Club in Ikeja Lagos.

Several dignitaries including Mr. Obasanjo, former Vice-Chancellor of the University of Lagos, Prof. Ibidapo Obe, former minister of Education and VP of the World Bank, Oby Ezekwesili among others have been spotted at the Lagos Country Club attending the book launch ceremony.

The book is said to be restrained from publishing by a Federal High Court in Abuja following a libel suit allegation against the former president.


See photos from the book launch

The author, Olusegun Obasanjo signs autograph at the book unveiling



From Left: Oluremi Johnson, Prof. Ibidapo Obe and Prof. Peter Okebukola



L-R: Former President of Nigeria/Author, Olusegun Obasanjo and his wife Bola with Prof. Olu Akinkugbe, presenting the book titled ‘My Watch’ – A Memoir by Olusegun Obasanjo
 

Photo credit: Sahara Reporters & PM News Nigeria

Rekiya’s Tale – Episode 6

Everyone has an oversized opinion of themselves; it is the degree to which this opinion is oversized that is debatable and not the fact that it is. When you find that degree and you can magnify the person’s importance in your life to that degree, you will get whatever you want from that person. You just have to endure their preening while you are at it.

When I sat opposite Ochuko that evening, I saw him in a new light. There’s something that happens to you when the lovey dovey scales fall off your eyes and you truly see a person with some objectivity. Here was a guy with an overinflated opinion of his own irrestability and charm. I decided to play to that gallery. I was saying

“Ochuko, I don’t know what came over me; it must have been the stress of the pregnancy.”

He smiled; a preening, conceited smile. I swallowed. This was going to be the hardest part of the pretense; because what I truly felt like doing was to lift the heavy metal chair and bash his head in. He was fiddling with stuff on the table again.

“I just know that I can’t live without you, all of you or some of you, and I’m not going to let this,” I tapped my tummy, “get in the way.” I continued saying.

“So what are you saying Rekiya? I was already gathering myself together to move on, you know my life is not so straightforward” he responded.

In my head, I said shut up you fool. Out aloud, I said “I know it’s me you love Ochuko, and you just need time to sort things out with that woman in UK. I’m with you in this baby, I don’t know how I’m going to go on if you truly move on and I never see you again.”

I saw a smile steal across his face so briefly that if I hadn’t been observing him closely I would not have noticed it. How many times had he smiled such smiles that I had not noticed when love was doing me gishgish? He was saying now “and your father? I recall that he threatened to kill me the last time we saw…”

“Look, I will handle my father. He has never really liked you, but as long as it was you I wanted, he respected my wishes. He will respect my wishes if I say it’s you I still want. Couples go through thick and thin, and they go through it together, make sacrifices for each other. That’s what this love is about, if it’s to be true.”

“And the complication?” he asked, pointing to my tummy.

“I’m handling that too. I’ll play along with my dad and see the doctor he suggested to take it out. It won’t get it in the way.”

This time, he could not help himself. He grinned from ear to ear like an imp.

“This is what I’ve been trying to tell you since baby. I want you, want you bad, but things just got complicated and I decided it was time to come out clean so you could make an informed choice. And baby, I’m glad you chose to stick with me.”

With that, I crossed over to his side of the cozy chair and wrapped my hands around him, sobbing quietly. “I thought I was going to lose you, I was so scared,” I said through the sobs.

“I’m never leaving baby, never.”

In the midst of the sobs, I smiled. I had him.

I then looked into his eyes, smiled and said breathily “thank you dear, for letting me have you,” and before he could say anything stupid that would not make me go through with it, I kissed him passionately. I had chosen The Penthouse for this purpose. The eating areas were demarcated and secluded in such a way that, even if you were the naughty ones that wanted to play out some imaginations, you could do so without being seen by other diners

When all the kissing and petting was over, I shook myself laughing and said, “now, Mr, I need to go to the loo to redo this makeup that you have smeared so well.” He laughed too as I went.

In the loo, I quickly dialed Fafa. I went straight to the matter, cos I didn’t want to take long

“Babe, he has swallowed the bait. The guy thinks he’s so badt that somebody cannot do without him. Mtchew. How far with your end?” I said.

“Hehehe, na so. My end is tight. I changed my name on BB and added him up. His guard is still up now, as I still have some generic DP up. He’s asking all sorts of questions. But I know that once I change the picture to mine, na man. He will consider himself the luckiest man on earth to get a babim like me on a platter of gold. He’ll have to be a monk not to swallow the bait.”

I let out a soft laugh. “See you soon, lemme discharge this one.” With that, I cut the connection and touched my face up. There’s one thing most men do not hurry a woman on and it’s making herself up so I took my time. I looked at myself in the mirror. The face that stared back at me was one that seemed strained, not the happy one that had looked back for months now. I shook my head. The reason for my pain was sitting out there, and I would focus on that.

The rest of the evening went remarkably well after that hard part was done. We fell into old habits, old jokes resurfaced and I actually had a good time. By the time we left that night, he was comfy.

Farida was waiting for me at home this time, not with alcohol but for once in her life, she hear word and made a sumptuous dinner of fried rice with salad, dodo and turkey. Over dinner, with some presenter on the new ELTV speaking fo-ne that I don’t understand in the background, she gave me the gist of how it went with my MD.

It had been a good idea never to have introduced her to my MD before now. I somehow manage to keep my personal and professional spheres of life separate and I hardly put up personal pictures on my professional BB so he didn’t know her. Now, he was already talking dates and a trip to Dubai together with her within hours of adding her. Fafa was educating me further

“This is what you need to be looking for. You probably will not get a direct answer from anyone to find it. But when you have eliminated every other thing that is impossible, whatever is remaining, no matter how implausible it sounds is the truth. So don’t rule anything you arrive at out.”

The good thing about being trusted P.A is that I have access to all the files, and if there is one that I don’t have, I can get. Who would deny me a file in the company? What if oga needed it urgently and they didn’t make it available. No one would want to find out, so I knew I’d get everything I needed. I simply understand the business too well since I was a part of it from the start. So taking her words to heart, I began a meticulous search of my laptop after dinner, extracting every relevant information exchange and document that had to do with the transaction we were doing with Ochuko’s company. It was 1AM when I thought I had isolated all I could from the e-copies of documents and correspondences. When I got to work later in the morning, I would sift through the hardcopy files and come back home with them. Fafa would find out what could never be in files from my oga during their date that day and we would compare all to get the full picture later the next day.

Next morning, I was up on time and had a full English breakfast, thanks to Aunty Farida before stepping out. She insisted I eat for the baby even if I didn’t want to eat for myself. “I know your plan is to make me fat and ugly, but I have the formula for eating without getting fat now” I told her as I gulped the food down. I was truly hungry anyway, I was grateful for it. She looked at me with mock seriousness and said “babe, you are sitting on a billion dollar business then. Everyone thinks every girl’s dream is to get married to some charming prince. Wrong. Our dream is to be able to eat all we want without getting fat. Oya, let’s sell your formula and watch the stack of paper grow!’

I laughed as I dressed up and she did the dishes (yes, I came to dress up in the kitchen to continue the gist). Before I left the house, she modeled the dress she was wearing for the date with my MD for me and danced to Flavour’s Baby Oku in it. Let’s just say that he was dead meat. This girl no well one bit.

I met both my assistants already at their desks when I got to the office. I had divided up the files I would need into three parts before leaving home. I sent Duke to get one set, and then Somto to get the other. Finally, I got the third set myself. That way, no one but me would know what I was really looking for. To be doubly sure, I added some irrelevant files into the mix so that to anyone else, it was a jumble of stuff. I quickly assembled what I was looking for and stacked them away under my table, picking what I needed per time from the pile. I set to work quickly

When my boss came in at about ten thirty, he was looking super sharp. Brand new haircut, a jacket I hadn’t seen on him before with a pocket square, patent leather shoes, one of those his specially tailored shirts and a Hermes belt. I laughed internally because I knew it was all for Fafa. I gave him some minutes to settle down, before I went in and told him all about the night before. He was so happy I had taken his advice and was sorting things out with Ochuko. Ewu. I chipped in that Ochuko had said something about being relieved that he didn’t have to come to our office to discuss the big deal he was doing with us under the previous circumstances. And then I asked, “which deal, because I’m sure it’s not that one we had that meeting for that day that he’s calling big o.”

I noticed he was floundered and it took him some moments to search for the right answer before he simply said

“it’s a new deal jare, early stages. Good he can come and go here in the atmosphere of love like he said.”

Fafa had said he would not volunteer any info anyway, so I was not surprised that he answered so vaguely. What his reaction told me though was that whatever it was they were doing, it was something that bordered in that hazy place between the legality and illegality, and it was closer to the illegal. Now this in itself is not a bad thing, it happens fairly regularly in our business. But his hesitation was curious. I changed the topic and he was visibly relieved I didn’t probe further.

“So, which of your catches is in town that is the inspiration for this your decking up today o, because e no get part two”.

“Hehehe, this one is new and fresh, and she’s manna from heaven. If you see the babe en, you will know that good things are still in this world. And she will be mine utunu.” He touched his lips and raised the finger to heaven to emphasize his point. I laughed and simply said “sha be careful”.

“Don’t worry, she won’t bite” he responded.

No one had been that wrong in a long time.

Two hours later, he stopped by at my desk on his way out and said with a wink “wish me luck”.

I had found something in the hardcopy files that was like a red flag. I hadn’t found it by looking; I more or less stumbled upon it because of an error in spelling. But as things happen, that error made me focus on that area some more and voila, I saw what I was looking for, clear as crystal. The moment he was gone, I went into the restroom and called Fafa “he’s on his way, wrapped like a Christmas gift. And my search has yielded something interesting. So here’s what you’re going to ask him about…”

It was then I felt the sharp pain in my tummy for the first time.

Rekiya’s Tale – Episode 5

It’s never wise to try to catch two monkeys simultaneously. You end up losing them both. That is, except one monkey is catching the other for you and that one willingly comes back to you to be caught.

When I got home that evening, Fafa had poured us drinks and was waiting in my favorite night robe.

“So inside all the things to wear in this house, it is the one I love the best and would have been coming home to wear myself that you chose abi?” I asked.

“How else will you know I’m here if I don’t?” she retorted. “Now, sit down and take the whole of this glass before I start telling you anything. Trust me, you’re gonna need it.”

Slowly, I let myself into the couch beside her and then gulped down the liquid. It was some concentrated Vodka mix that Fafa never told me what else was inside. It shot like a mini fire down my throat but, yes, it did calm my nerves a little.

“Now that I’m through with whatever poison you mixed, shall I hear this your interesting tale before the poison begins to take effect?” I asked.

“Won’t you change into…” she responded.

“Madam, if you don’t start talking now, just know you’re in my house. I have a secret torture chamber that you’ve never seen.”

She managed to laugh and then began

“Well, there’s a bbm group I belong to, called London Matters, and it’s basically babes like me that travel a lot that are in it. I thought, if Ochuko was married to some big girl in the UK, someone there might know him. And I was right, because someone recognized him the moment I put his picture in the group.”

“Oh no you didn’t!” I screamed.

“Well, shebi I told you I would snoop around. Anyway, someone on the group knew him, so I added her on bb and then asked her a couple of questions. I should let you read the chat yourself.”

She handed me her phone and I quickly scanned through the conversation. My mouth opened in disbelief as I went over the chat slower a second time. It was interlaced with several pictures to emphasize the points that the lady was making to Fafa.

“Explain this,” was all I said as I handed her the phone.

“Well, I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Ochuko isn’t married, no. However, Joshua Aribiah is. And that’s the name that your Ochuko goes by in the UK. That’s the name he’s married to an Akudo Aribiah under. Those are their pictures together. The bastard is a con man. He’s basically lied to you, lied to his wife, and is probably lying to everyone. Which is his real name? Ochuko? Joshua?

Or some other name we don’t even know? Who is he, really?”

“Oh my God! How did I get myself into this? How? I thought I did everything correctly. Waited. Fell in love. Thought I was going to get married to the perfect gentleman. How did the perfect relationship turn to this?” the tears were falling down my face freely now.

Fafa moved over and hugged me tight “don’t blame yourself for this dear. Anyone could have fallen for this. Anyone. But we shouldn’t wallow in self pity. There’s a plan, dear, the plan. He has messed with the wrong woman this time.”

“So should we report his 419ing ass to the authorities? Not on this side of the Atlantic o, he’ll just get away.” I asked.

“Noooo, that’s not the first step. Patience, my dear, patience.” Farida responded. “For this kind of thing, you take your time, one step at a time.”

My phone rang. It was a welcome diversion at that time, to take my mind away from the news I had just heard, even if it was briefly.

“Duke, how are you? Is anything the problem?” I asked in my madam voice, trying to mask my tears.

“I thought I should inform you that MD has called Somto and I separately since you left, and he’s been more interested in how you were acting, if you were angry and stuff like that. I thought it was strange, but I told him that you left early and I also mentioned that you lost your phone yesterday at Radisson Blu and I helped you buy a new one. That strangely seemed to make him happy.”

The fool, of course he would be happy. He would think his secret was safe.

“Is that all he asked?” I said.

“Unfortunately no. While I was tactful, Somto was not as skilled at knowing what to say and what not to. She mentioned the incident where you cried and why it happened to the boss. I thought it was a stupid thing for her to do.”

I thought it was a stupid thing for her to do to, but I did not tell Duke.

“Thanks a lot Duke, I guess he was just concerned after seeing all my missed calls.”

“Well, if he had just called you, he would have found out why you were calling. It’s strange that he chose to be snooping around your back.” Duke responded.

“It’s a bit queer to me too. I’ll call him again now. Thanks again for the heads up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hung up and turned to Farida.

“My MD now knows that my phone was lost and his secret is safe. And what’s good, I didn’t have to tell him,” I said with a smile.

“Hmmm, now that’s good,” Farida responded.

“So what next?” I asked.

“You won’t like it, so let me move away from you small,” Farida said as she went to the fridge to mix us another drink. When she returned, she still sat close to me and continued

“You have to go back to Ochuko and tell him you’ve accepted his proposal. You’re in love, true love and can’t live without him. You’ll settle for some part of him rather than none of him. And you have to be convincing in your act as the love struck forlorn lover.”

“Ewwwwww, that’s absolutely disgusting!” I shouted. My tummy turned at the thought. Me, begging that bastard to be with me? That would be the lowest of lows.

“I know jor, but there’s a reason. There’s something else my friend said about him. You were so carried away by the multiple identity gist that you missed it. So I’ll spell it out for you.”

I reached for her phone and reopened the chat to see what I had missed. Farida continued

“He’s also known to run a serious scamming operation. Not the nonsense new yahoo yahoo that boys do. Real, old school big bucks 419 like the old boys do. And can you guess who his current target is?”

“Errrm, it isn’t me, I don’t have the kind of money he currently has or needs.” I responded.

“Ode, you are the target of only young Unilag boys, not seasoned 419ers. His friend and cohort, your oga is his mark. And sorry darling, his relationship and bet was probably just to seal and move their friendship and trust beyond business as men usually do. So, are you beginning to think what I’m thinking?”

The way her mind was working was becoming clearer to me, but to be on the safe side, I asked her to spell it out for me. And when she did, I was glad I had this witch by my side. That night, for the first time in a very long time, Fafa and I got drunk together and passed out on my couch.

Fafa is an experienced drunkard. While I was still sleeping and reveling in my hangover, she was up, made me breakfast and then woke/dragged me up from bed to get ready for work.

“Your boss’ fears are calmed. He will come to work today. Blow him out of the water. In fact, go and confide in him, like a big brother. It will clear all doubts in his mind.”

“Okay dear. You, laze around in my house. Just make sure there’s food and not alcohol waiting when I come back today o.”

We laughed, said our goodbyes and then I was on my way.

I spotted my MD’s car in the parking lot as I pulled in. He had turned in early today, perhaps to cover up for his absence from work yesterday.

I gingerly walked in. It was then I realized that in spite of Fafa’s best efforts, I had still gotten to work an hour late. My assistants were still tense, but within minutes, I had eased up their tension and we were laughing as we normally did. I powered my system up, signed in and waited for the computer to load all my personal settings. Because I left early yesterday, I would have many emails hanging, so I launched my email and once mails started dropping, I strolled into my MD’s office.

“Runaway, you have finally been released by your girlfriend that camped you yesterday abi?” I decided to open with a standard joke between us. Everytime he went AWOL like that, it was usually some escapade with some coded babe (though on those occasions I would still be able to reach him sha). He laughed, and I noticed that it was slightly uneasy.

“It’s only you that knows this truth, so swear you will take it to the grave,” he said with mock seriousness.

“I know many crazier secrets about you sir. You can be sure this one will be safe.” I responded, crossing my heart dramatically.

His eyes narrowed as I said the word “secrets”. I was enjoying toying with him but Fafa’s words rang in my ears. Make him feel easy, she had said.

“I had to leave early yesterday. Lost my phone on…” I began.

“I heard that on the office grapevine,” he responded.

“Make that Duke. He is the grapevine.” I said with a knowing smile. He laughed again, this time easier. Everyone knew Duke’s weakness.

“So since you have heard about the phone, I’m sure you have also heard about the drama I acted abi.
 I’m ashamed of myself,” I said, looking down at my feet.

My MD left his seat and was by my side in an instant.

I formed struggling to fight tears back for a few moments and then I simply said “Ochuko is leaving me because, you were right, I am pregnant.”

“Leaving you? But he should be happy you’re having his baby,” he said.

“Well, he says he married someone for papers in the UK and doesn’t want complications. He wants me to take this baby out…”

Over the next twenty minutes, I played the part of the distressed and confused damsel, while my boss was the big brother. By the time I was leaving, that indiscreet bb message was the last thing on his mind. And oh, the company picked the bill for my new phone.

“Duke,” I said as I entered my own office space “go and help me get one of these IT guys to configure my phone. I didn’t get around to doing it yesterday.”

The moment he left, I walked over to Somto’s desk, pulled a chair and sat by her. “Now that we’re alone, let me warn you and you better listen real good. If it ever comes back to me that you are discussing my personal business with the MD again, I will crush you.” I squeezed a piece of paper from her table for effect, then smiled and threw it into the bin. She was clearly shaken. I needed her to be afraid. I didn’t want to be watching my back over the next few weeks. Things were about to begin.

Back at my desk, I fiddled with my landline for a bit. This was going to be a bitter pill to swallow, but do it, I would.

I picked up the phone and dialed Ochuko from memory.

“Hello,” his rich voice filled my head.

“Hello. We need to talk. 6PM, The Pent House. I’ve ordered dinner already. Don’t be late.”

Then I hung up.

By the time I went into my MD’s office unannounced, he was receiving a call that he abruptly tried to end. I smiled. Assure him for me, I said inside. This was going to be fun.

President Barack Obama and his daughters seen purchasing books in celebration of Small Business Saturday

In celebration of independently owned businesses in the United State commonly tagged "Small Business Saturday", president Obama and his daughters were seen purchasing books at the Politics & Prose bookstore in Washington, D.C.

 

This portrays the president as a role model and lover of books. He is also said to be one of American's most bookish president and has often expressed that literature has massively influenced his politics. 

Even the president of the United States of America has time to pop into a bookstore to pick up new books to read. This shows that no matter your position in life you should never stop learning and making time to improve yourself. 

Curious which books Obama purchased? Here is the list, according to the White House:
 

• Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End by Atul Gawande
• Junie B. Jones and a Little Monkey Business by Barbara Park
• A Barnyard Collection: Click, Clack, Moo and More by Doreen Cronin
• I Spy Sticker Book and Picture Riddles by Jean Marzollo
• Nuts to You by Lynn Rae Perkins
• Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus by Barbara Park
• Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson
• Redwall by Brian Jacques
• Mossflower by Brian Jacques
• Mattimeo by Brian Jacques
• Cartwheeling in Thunderstorms by Katherine Rundell
• The Narrow Road to the Deep North by Richard Flanagan
• The Laughing Monsters by Denis Johnson
• All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
• Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
• Nora Webster by Colm Toibin
• Age of Ambition: Chasing Fortune, Truth and Faith in the New China by Evan Osnos

Story of African soldier fighting another man’s war

Article by: Punch Newspaper

Barnaby Phillips

British journalist Barnaby Phillips speaks with CHUX OHAI on his new book, Another Man’s War

With his new book titled ‘Another Man’s War’, awarding winning British journalist, Barnaby Phillips, has managed to draw attention to Africa’s contribution to Britain’s successful campaign in the Second World War.

Phillips says the book is a biography that tells the collective history of over 100,000 Africans who went to Burma to fight against the Japanese during the war.

“The Nigerians were the single biggest contingent, numbering maybe 30,000. But at the heart of it is the individual story of Isaac Fadoyebo. I used his story to bring in some drama and it enabled me to tell a wider British journalist Barnaby Phillips speaks with CHUX OHAI on his new book, Another Man’s War

Phillips lived in Nigeria between 1998 and 2001. During this period, he grew curious about the story of the ‘Burma Boy’ – the familiar hero in many urban tales of the African warrior’s involvement in the Second World War.

After he had looked up lots of books in libraries in Britain and found many accounts by British Army officers, he finally stumbled upon Fadeyebo’s memoirs – a beautifully written 50 page account of his experience during the war. It was only then that he realised he had found an authentic African voice giving an account of the war that was different from that of the British officers.

Although Phillips did not initially believe that Fadeyebo was still alive, he hung on to a grain of hope and went on to put out some contacts in Lagos through his friends. Fortunately and to his great delight, he discovered in 2010 that the ‘Burma boy’ was alive.

The following year, he returned to Nigeria to meet Fadeyebo and to shoot a documentary based on the ex serviceman’s experiences in Burma. In the same year, he managed to get Al-Jazeera to buy the film.

“With the benefit of hindsight, it is fantastic that we made the film because he passed away, sadly, at the end of 2012,” he says.

Aware that Nigerian playwright and lately filmmaker, Biyi Bandele, took the first step to dramatise the role of African soldiers who fought for the British in Burma – now referred to as the most brutal theatre of the Second World War – Phillips acknowledges that the former’s novel, which is aptly titled ‘Burma Boy’, essentially differs in context from ‘Another Man’s War’.

“Biyi’s book is a novel and mine is a historical account. As I have said before, my book is non-fiction. Sometimes if you are writing non-fiction you are a bit more constrained. You have to stick to the information and the sources that you have in front of you. I couldn’t imagine characters and I had to really go on with historical documents. That is the difference, I suppose,” he says, admitting that the process of documenting ‘Another Man’s War’ was fraught with constraints.

But the author claims that he stumbled upon some discoveries in the process of researching Fadeyebo’s account of the war. The main discovery was going back to Burma and finding the family who had saved the soldier during the war.

Describing this as an experience he will not forget in a hurry, he continues, “The individual who saved Isaac had passed away by the time I managed to reached his family. But the man’s children and grandchildren are still living in the same village. Initially I was worried that it would not be possible to track him down. They were part of a Muslim minority and many of them lived in refugee camps. My fear was that they might no longer be living in the place where Isaac had left them. And, in fact, Isaac’s own geographical directions were rather vague. So there were some challenges, but finding them was my main discovery.”

However, Phillips’ motive for taking Fadeyebo’s story straight out of the archives of a library somewhere in England and documenting it for public consumption is purely to provide good and exciting stuff for people to read.

The writer considers it a great privilege to have been able to tell the man’s story in film and prose and also hopes that the book will be well received in Britain and of course, in Africa.

“I think it is an incredible story of one man’s survival against the odds. Logically Isaac should have died. But he didn’t. I find him attractive as an individual. I think he was a very modest and dignified man,” he says.

The author hopes the book will do justice to the memory of the Second World War and open up a fresh conversation globally on Britain’s role in the horrendous war.

Confident that many readers will be very surprised to learn that the British took about 100,000 Africans to fight in the Second World War, which is not a widely known fact in many countries in Africa, he says, “I have put my cards on the table and say in broad terms that Britain was on the right side in the war. But that does not mean that everything that Britain did was right. In different geographical spheres of the war, the British were fighting for different motives.

“In Burma, the war was not about freedom and democracy. It was a war about empire, which was fundamentally a racist construct. In the army, for example, the African soldiers were at the bottom of the ladder. It was impossible for them to become commissioned officers and when they did become non-commissioned officers, they were not paid as much as the white soldiers. Fundamentally I would say that was wrong.”

Rekiya’s Tale – Episode 4

It takes only a little nudge to trigger the creatively evil side in most of us and as I sat there, thinking a million evil thoughts, I knew the correct course of action. So first, I dialed my friend, Farida. We grew up together, but Farida and I were as different as light and dark. I was the plain girl, where she was the hot omalicha nwa. While I worked and made my money myself, Farida had a string of men she called her “bankers” who all worshipped at her feet and with their combined “banking services” made sure she lived an even more luxurious life than I did. If we entered a place and there were ten toasters available, she would get 9.5 (yes, even the one I got would still be eyeing her small small) of them most of the time. In fact, I used to test the seriousness of toasters at one point by simply introducing them to her and seeing if they would switch their attentions to her or not. Of course, they ended up as chasers of two rats – they caught none. In spite of these differences, we were closer than most people thought we were.

“Reks,” she said in her breathy voice “kilonshelz”. Another thing about her – she can take on any role the man she’s with wants. But with me, in spite of her being Fulani, she was her true self, a Yoruba blowing a Lagos girl.

“I’m fucked up babe, real real bad,” I responded.

“What’s the ish?” she asked.

“My thing with Ochuko was merely a bet between him and my boss. I just found that out now,” I responded. I went on to narrate the whole preggy for Ochuko and daddy’s abortion drama saga in lucid detail to her.

She listened quietly and waited for me to finish.

“Are you done?” she asked after I paused.

“Yes now. I called you right after I read my oga’s message.”

“Okay, good. You are going to ditch this your BB. Shebi Q10 kuku just came out, so get that our SLOT guy to bring one to your office today. And be dramatic about the whole matter.”

“And why exactly would I be throwing away a BB in perfect working order?” I asked.

“Because you did not read the message, simple” she responded

“Okay, Fafa, I know I’m slow, but I just called you to tell you I read the message. As in my two big eyes actually viewed the message and it has changed to R already. So explain this to me, in plain olodo nice and slow English.”

“You are just a cow,” she said laughing.

“Madam, compare the size of our chests. The one who is the cow between us should be fairly obvious,” I retorted and we both laughed. If anyone could get me laughing, it was Fafa.

“You are just an ode child, you this girl. Anyway, here’s the plan to give us time to think of how we will deal with those two. He would have realized his mistake now, and will be expecting you to confront him and throw a tantrum. And I know you, that’s just what you will go and do.”

“Of course. He needs to explain to me why he would do this to me. I trusted and respected him very much, you know? He was like my elder bro and stuck with him through thick and thin, good and bad in this company. It was I who believed when most others didn’t.”

“Well, let’s do it my way this time, Reks. We’ll make him walk on needles. Don’t say anything about the message. In fact, go about your job like nothing is wrong, like you could not be bothered about the ish with Ochuko. It will kill him. His mind will race up and down, racked with guilt, wondering what you’re planning.”

“Okay, I get the bit of not confronting him et al. But it still doesn’t explain me dishing out 110K to buy a new BB when this my Bold 5 is still working well.”

“Madam, first, I wan make you upgrade. An an, with all the money you have, you are still clinging to that your Bold 5 and falling my hand all over this Lagos. But seriously, here’s why. When he can’t take it no more, he will ask you about it. You’ll just smile a dainty doll-faced smile…”

“Abegi, unlike you, some of us cannot pull off the doll faced thingy convincingly,” I interrupted.

“Gerrout and listen jo. You’ll smile your wowo smile and tell him ‘oh, I didn’t get it oh. My phone was stolen yesterday and I just got a new one today. I’ve been trying to restore my contacts but it seems there’s an issue with that. You can then add him there and then. He won’t believe his good fortune and feel safe after his jabo-ing. We’ll then plan whatever we want to do while he feels safe.”

“But you know you are witch abi?” I said, smiling and loving her plan.

“Na to protect you I join the coven,” she retorted.

“Okay, and Ochuko nko? What do we do with him?” I asked

“That one en, we need to see face to face to discuss that one’s matter. Shebi he is the tree climber abi? Only monkeys climb trees o, and we will give him appropriate monkey treatment.”

In spite of myself, I couldn’t help laughing like a fool at work. This Farida girl is just a bad influence. Okay, bad influence in a good way.

“Okay, when are we seeing to hear this your monkeylization plan o?”

“Been looking for an excuse to leave this my house sef, so I’ll come and sleep over at yours today. And since I know you won’t have anything to drink in that your house, I’ll be bringing my own drinks. Just make sure there’s food,” she responded.

“You will soon become a whale, and your smile will become ugly like my own.”

We both laughed again and I rounded off the conversation. We had said goodbye and I had almost cut the call off when she added as an afterthought “and madam, if you touch my goddaughter, I will murder you too. I have a name for her already. Zara baby.” Then she cut the call off.

The laughter and conversation with Farida was good for me, I really really needed it. People had already begun to arrive from work and my suspenders wearing assistant, Duke came in to greet me. Sometimes, I wondered how his little man was able to breathe inside his extra skinny jeans and pants. Add his shiny patent leather shoes, multi-colored socks, nerd glasses and neat afro and you can imagine how errrr interesting he always looked. Though he was about my age, he was like the younger brother I didn’t have. Somto, my other assistant, had once told me that his real name was Ndukwe, but that he had modified the name to suit his new Lagos bobo status after he came in from Enugu. This bit, he kept as a closely guarded secret and I pretended I didn’t know.

“Morning ma’am,” he said with a proper English bow.

“Duke, how are you?” I responded.

“Very well, thank you,” he said, fiddling with his suspenders.

Just then, I had a thought. Why wait for something I could go and get.

“Duke, I need you to do something for me urgently.”

As a response he came closer and fiddled with his glasses.

“Go to SLOT and buy me a Q10 sharply. I lost my phone yesterday at Radison Blu and it feels like I’ve lost an arm and a leg and the delivery guy is telling me long stories, so just come and go for me,” I said.

“I know that feeling right? If I had to go to an island and could pick only three things, my BB would sure be one of them,” he responded.

“I’ll transfer money to your account now; you can pay with your POS when you get there.”

I watched him walk out of the door, knowing that the Duke’s one other weakness would cause the whole office to hear a well embellished tale about my lost phone without me being the source of the story. As I became alone in my office again, the sadness began to come over me again. For all my scheming with Farida, there was a baby growing inside me, and it was Ochuko’s. I wanted to keep the child, but the one man whose support would have made Ochuko’s nonsense of no effect was staunchly against the idea.

Thankfully, Somto arrived just then and provided a distraction until her partner returned with my new phone. The moment he came back and she saw what he was carrying, she began to tease him.

“Somebody has gone to use all his salary to buy phone to be forming avant-garde. Sha don’t come and be looking for loan at midmonth o, we will not give you.”

Duke scowled at her and turned his nose up in the air before responding “you can jump for Africa. While I take an exception to your insinuation that I will be unable to afford this phone, let me correct your erroneous impression.” Then dramatically holding the phone up and waving it around, he continued “this is the result of Rekiya’s unfortunate loss yesterday. She’s replacing the phone she lost yesterday. I merely facilitated the process of procuring it.”

Rolling my eyes, I snatched my phone from him before his waving around spoilt it “Ochuko, shay it’s ordinary to say the phone is mine that you gave that Yes We Can speech?”

The two of them burst out into uncontrollable laughter. I was confused “I know what I said is funny, but it is not that funny now. Abi, am I missing something ni?”

Amidst fits of laughter, Somto responded “Madam, I go love oooo. See you looking at this skinny lizard,” she pointed at Duke “and calling him Ochuko. Love don turn everything wey you see to Ochuko abi?”

Their laughter stopped when they saw the tears that began trickling from my eyes. I was unconscious of them but seemed unable to stop them from flowing. Duke was over at my side in an instant “did we say something wrong? What’s the problem ma’am?”

“It’s nothing,” I said, quickly dabbing the tears from my face and smearing my makeup in the process.

Somto tried to say something but I looked at them and fiercely said “I said it is nothing!”

They both quickly beat a hasty retreat to their corners of the room while I went quietly redid my makeup at my desk. See, when your boss does some things you can’t understand sometimes, they’re just being human. Dem no dey craze.

You know the way you anticipate something and prepare for it and wait for it, and then that thing simply does not happen? That’s what happened to me that day. My boss did not show up at work. I had planned how I would be all sweet and all, while allowing the needles prick his conscience, and then he refused to show up.

I was not taking it though. By noon, I put a call through to him using my landline. The call rang out. Then I called him with my mobile, and he still didn’t pick the call. It was clear he was avoiding talking to me. I considered sending him a text saying I had lost my phone and all, but then on a second thought I decided to let him stew. The reason he hadn’t showed up was that he didn’t have the nerve to face me just yet. Let him be afraid when he saw my calls.

Around two in the afternoon, Fafa called.

“Babe, can you leave the office now now?” she said excitedly.

I had been considering closing early anyway, since my boss didn’t show up so I said “yes.”

“Well, get your ass here, I have very hot gist for you.”

“Babe, I don’t have witch like you, so I can’t know where you are by a phone call.” I responded.

“Monkey, I don reach your house,” she retorted.

“Okay, oya hint me on this gist.” I asked.

“You sure you want to hear it over the phone? The thirty minutes it will take you to get home won’t kill you o,” she responded.

“Madam, will you tell me now or you want me to practice my kung fu on you?”

“Well, if you insist, here it goes. Ochuko is not married to anyone.”

“I’ll be with you in twenty minutes,” I said and cut the call off.

New prize for Kiswahili Literature seeks to reward East African writers

Kiswahili is a Bantu language and the mother tongue of the Swahili people. It is spoken by Eastern and other parts of Southeast communities in Africa. Writers and authors from Kiswahili speaking countries such as Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda,  Burundi, Mozambique and the Democratic Republic of Congo will now be able to showcase their literary skills as the Mabati-Cornell Kiswahili Prize for African Literature was announced at the just concluded Ake Art & Books Festival in Abeokuta, Nigeria.

Mabati-Cornell Kiswahili Prize for African Literature is sponsored by Kenya’s Mabati Rolling Mills and USA’s Cornell University. The prize will recognizes excellent writing in African languages and encourages translation from, between and into African languages.

The prize will be awarded to the best unpublished manuscript or book published within two years of the award year across the categories of fiction, poetry and memoir, and graphic novels. The prize money of 15,000 US dollars will be given to three writers and the winning entry will be published in Kiswahili by East African Educational Publishers (EAEP). The best poetry book will be translated and published by the Africa Poetry Book Fund.