A first-class king is dethroned unceremoniously. To make matters worse, he is banished from his homeland; the land of his forefathers and a place where he once reigned supreme as paramount ruler. It was jolting news for the majority. The prospect of seeing a revered figure in the person of the Emir of Kano being subjected to such a treatment was not an event many envisaged, but it is no rumour. It happened.
The silence lingered. The park had a sparse human presence. It was Saturday morning, families and picnickers were yet to arrive.
“Hello ma’am, are you Mrs Johnson?”
“Please take a seat, Beatrice.”
“Have we met before?” She asked.
Banke’s lips curved into a smirk. She had prepared for this.
“I have seen you, I know what you look like. Take a seat.”
Beatrice wrapped her dress across her slim frame and sat on the edge of the park bench. She took in the dark-skinned woman who was now only a few inches away from her. She looked to be in her mid to late thirties. Her face was unfamiliar, this stranger regarding her.
He wasn’t prepared for the reaction he got when he posted the video on Twitter. The young lady in the clip needed to quench her thirst but was at a loss as to how the water dispenser worked. After trying to figure out its operation to no avail, she turned to a staff of the company with a sheepish smile to ask for help. The poster went on to body-shame the lady; alluding to her inability to operate something as uncomplicated as a water dispenser even though she had an ample derriere. But he got more than what he bargained for when commenter after commenter condemned his action.
We have been taught to be in a perpetual state of hunger for attainment. We want to be more, achieve more, get better, be wealthy, attain a higher level of influence. I can aver that this is true in my case. I plan to die empty, therefore, I am always looking to be better than I was yesterday. I also realise that life is short, there are no guarantees, and so everyone is essentially in a race against time to do what they have to do before they check out of this realm. There’s nothing wrong with ambition. To be driven is to be eager to self-actualise and contribute value. It’s not a bad thing.
I watch a lot of Crime and Investigation. I have always found the motivation behind crime fascinating—how an individual goes from happy-go-lucky or the regular guy next door—to a criminal mastermind. I am even more drawn to the painstaking effort detectives apply in uncovering who this villain is.
Back when we were kids, we had friends whom we got tired of because they were clueless about boundaries. Sometimes, it was because they never knew when to make themselves scarce—they were too available. They would show up at our doors at odd times and stay for hours until we pretended we had to run an errand or go somewhere. They were our friends, we liked them, but soon that friendship got strained—a consequence of their lack of emotional intelligence. As young as I was then, I understood the unwritten rule: being friends with a person should not translate to choking them with one’s presence. I made a mental note to never be a nuisance to anyone (If I could help it) no matter how close I was to them.
I am not afraid of death. What’s more, I think it’s ridiculous for anyone to be apprehensive about a phenomenon that is inevitable. I became even more comfortable with the idea of not existing anymore when I lost my father a few months ago. It is this acquiescence to the potential visit of the grim reaper that reminds me to not take things too seriously.
“God when?” One of the latest in the endless repertoire of lingos that spring up daily in the social media space. The phrase is expressed as a longing for something— a new status—a change in fortune. Gorgeous photos of an about-to-wed couple, the acquisition of a top of the range car, or a business success announcement are only a few of the events that can evoke this saying.
Back in school, I had friends who always had to be in a romantic relationship. Once their lover broke up with them or they had to do the same thing for some reason, they didn’t know what else to do with themselves, so they said “yes” to the next guy who showed interest. Sometimes, it was because they were wary of appearing undesirable to the opposite sex in an environment where it was the fashionable thing to be coupled up. The pressure to be seen as wanted was real and not everyone could withstand it. Most of the time, however, it was the fear of being alone.
One minute you are all chummy, slapping each other’s backs, and gossiping like best friends, the next minute, there’s a gulf. An inexplicable one occasioned by one person’s decision to sever ties. I had only heard and imagined what it felt like until it happened to me. I had made a new friend (or so I thought), and our relationship was on an upward trajectory. Getting to know each other, hanging out and exchanging phone calls and chats, until one day when they stopped communicating. They not only clam up, but they also hibernated and refused to be reached too.