Beep! Beep!! Beep!!! A Story from 2011

I was looking through my old emails and I saw this. Well, I'm not going to edit it... or try and make it read better. I want to be able to remember what I wrote like back in 2011. Plus... I wanna be able to compare my growth... or absence of it.

Please read and leave a comment. Lol yah... I'm thinking asking for comments is a thing I should start trying innit?

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Beep! Beep!! Beep!!! The darned light on my Blackberry never stops blinking. It’s always one thing or the other.  I have 21 unread messages. Crap! What do they all want? Why won’t they all leave me alone?? I just want to be alone dammit!!  There’s always something someone feels is so important they must tell you right away, something you must attend to as and when they want it. If I wasn’t so exhausted at the moment I’d start pulling out my hair, one strand at a time.

Flora... Reminding me that Tosin’s bridal shower is on Sunday. “Tee, don’t forget to bring 5k for a gift for the bride. I also think you’d need about 5k to eat at Pattaya. See you babes”

Tamuno... Letting me know I’m a bad friend. I haven’t called her in a week “You, I hope you know I’m not happy with you at all. You’ve not been a friend. You don’t call, you don’t text. Ordinary bbms sef you don’t reply”

Tosin... Wanting to know if she can drop off her aso-ebi  in my house since I claim to be working all the time. Too busy to see anybody. “Olatoun, my Mom is going to Allen later today, will someone be in your house? I want to drop off the lace and fascinator for you.  Also don’t forget the fitting for bridesmaids is on Saturday oh! My chief bridesmaid MUST NOT be late. I know you”

Kadeejah.. .Itching to give me the dirt on everyone, including myself “Babes, I saw that smelly Alexia with Femi last night. Holding hands and all.. I was so mortified on your behalf”

 Femi, my sweet asshole of an estranged husband ... constantly lying through his teeth... wondering why I won’t give us a second chance. “Baby, I won’t stop telling you how sorry I am. I’m nothing without you Toun, NOTHING.

And Sister Lara... needing to be consoled ALL the frigging time. “Tee, :’( this supervisor never seems satisfied with whatever I do. Honestly I’m tired. I need another job where I’ll be appreciated”

I feel like just screaming and tossing the phone against the wall. Why does everybody think I don’t have troubles of my own?

 I feel like saying to Sister Lara, suck it up, life isn’t a bed of roses, and even if it is there are thorns in every rose stalk... so stop disturbing me.

I feel like telling Femi what to do with that this “Second chance” he keeps talking about...his ass hole is in need of stuffing.

Kadeejah... get a life and stop getting vicarious fixes off other people’s lives. Sheesh!

Tosin, so because you’re getting married now I should be bankrupt? I’ve been there done that and have the scarred belly to show for it. Not very impressed. Drop the aso-ebi if you will, but please step off my nuts abeg!

*sigh* To Tammy, I just wanna scream. She’s undeserving of words in return. I’ve not met a clingier and a more self-centred friend.

Oh Flora, dear Flora... Do you not get tired of these little events/get togethers where we all smile falsely and pretend like all is peachy and dandy?

BEEP! BEEP!! BEEP!!! This time it wasn’t from my phone, but my dialysis machine, telling me my session was over.  I sighed deeply. 8 months of this so far and I have the rest of my life to go. My diabetes had been improperly managed and led to more complications so twice a month for the rest of my life this shall be my fate. A lone tear betrayed me and rolled down my cheek. I swatted angrily at it as I walked towards the nurses bay to sign out and get my appointment card for my next visit.

I was dealing with this and the world was moving on. Every time something happened to test me, I got up and fought, and I was victorious. I always made it through. I had to be strong, the alternative, crumbling, was not an option.

Beep! Beep!! Beep!!! I looked at the offensive device in my hand, it was my sister calling.  I smiled because she was the only one who stood by me. She was the one I told when I was told my kidneys were shutting down. The one who held me while I cried because Femi left me for his ex-girlfriend, saying he always knew she was meant for him. Tola, the one person with whom I shared an amniotic sac, whose pulse I felt even when we were apart.

“Toun, I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Been at The Centre. I just finished. What’s up?”

“I guessed as much when you weren’t picking. Where are you exactly? I have some news and I think you should sit down for this”

“I’m walking towards the car. Ki lo shele?”

I froze as I unlocked my car.

NO! NO!! NO!!!

Anyone but my mother, please NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Did Bola Agbaje's 'Gone Too Far' Go Too Far into Field of Absurdity?

The Pan African Film Festival is currently in Los Angeles so my cousins and I decided... oh let's see some films. Right? Okay, so I wanted to see Gone Too Far, because it had O.C Ukeje in it. I'd seen read the synopsis and reckoned it might be cool to see what it would end up being. So, this is my review of Bola Agbaje's Gone Too Far, directed by Destiny Ekaragha. The film was originally written as a stage play in 2007, and was made into a feature film in 2014. A young Nigerian guy, Ikudaisi (played by O.C Ukeje) joins his mother (played by Golda John Abiola ) and younger brother (played by Malachi Kirby) in London after many years of separation. The film sought to tell the story of Ikudaisi's integration into the society his family lived in, with particular emphasis on how his arrival affected his brother's social life... or lack of it.

 So, overall, the movie was okay. Honestly, it was. But I had a lot of issues with the film. But before I go into that, let's talk about the name of O.C Ukeje's character. The Hell is Ikudaisi?????? Reallly??? Of ALLLLLL the names to give to your character? Iku - death. Daisi - Establishes this one. So the name basically means Death Establishes This One. No, I'm not being pedantic, that name is soooo 1953 Yoruba Land! They did NOT TRY with that name. Haba!

Okay, I just thought to get that minor peeve out of the way. Secondly, I don't get why the entire story line of the film was made to last the whole day! Okay, so here's what happened. Ikudaisi landed from Nigeria... in slippers and some 'hip hop hurray' neck chains and baggy pants (troziz... if you don't like AmericanSpeak). After the initial greeting and unnecessary elongation of scenes, the Mother asks Yemi to go to the shops to pick up some Okro for food for Ikudaisi's meal. From the beginning of the film to the very end... it was this Okro these boys went to buy oh! The street chases, the ridiculousness of running into girls, the unnecessary social commentary, the fight scenes...EVERYTHING was in the cause of this Okro buying. Just how far away was this shop where the Okro was supposed to be purchased? For someone who had arrived on a 6 hour trip from Nigeria, who was supposedly meant to be fed and allowed to rest, Ikudaisi was quite spritely.

There were also some absurdities in the movie which made one ask "Really now? Really?" For instance, when the Uncle brought Ikudaisi from the airport, instead of taking him home, he left him in the car and went into the shops for a cigarette? The dramatic exit of Ikudaisi from the car when his mother arrived was very lacklustre. How come Ikudaisi and Yemi were so unfamiliar with each other? Did they never speak on the phone? Was Ikudaisi living under a rock? It's one thing not to know your brother's fashion sense, it's another thing to NOT know anything about him. There was NO explanation as to why the brothers didn't know each other. Please living on two continents is not an excuse.

 Also, I the general idea of trying to show cultural diversity, but the scenes with those two girls were very tiresome. We got the picture; Armani (Shanika Warren-Markland) is a confused girl who wanted to get her boyfriend jealous but her existence  did very little to move the plot forward. I get wanting to sprinkle romance and jealousy into a story, but there's a point when too much of something just leaves the audience tired. While I quite liked Paris (Adelayo Adedayo), the attempt to show her as the girl who was pining for Yemi, while he chased after Armani, fell flat. There was nothing in her body language or dialogue to show that. I must mention that the scene where Armani and Yemi confronted themselves in the park with people watching was just... "God when is this movie going to end?" In all, the film was okay. I'm not even going to compare it to a Nollywood, since I don't even think Nollywood flicks are made for you to even engage your brain.

 I liked the mother in this film. Golda John was funny and natural. There were times where there was zero chemistry between her and the sons but hey... compared to the other actors... she was okay. O.C Ukeje's Yoruba was quite wonky... but that's okay. He's an Igbo guy speaking Yoruba... we forgive him. In conclusion, this might have been best left as a stage play. Stretching it into a full feature film was going too far!

Snag that man... Get Pregnant!

“Have you considered having a baby together? It will help you find out how vested your partner is, in the relationship”

If you’ve been in a protracted ‘serious relationship’, chances are that one concerned friend/relative would have said these words to you. It’s one of those 'nuggets of wisdom' you receive, in pursuit of the ever elusive words of commitment from Le Boo.

Women, in a constant race against the biological clock, are the most susceptible to the anxiety that comes from just hanging. So, when things appear stalled, they begin to consider options for expediting their goals – marriage and children.

In light of this, the idea of introducing a child to the mix becomes like a compelling force for commitment. Rightly or wrongly, this is widely practiced by Nigerians. Based on certain cultural expectations, a lot of people feel obliged to do right by the person they’re having a child with – so men have been known to consider marriage once a pregnancy comes in the mix.

I know a guy who is constantly lamenting about how unhappy he is in his marriage. One day, I got tired of hearing the whining, and asked him if he was forced to marry this woman. The way I saw it, unless he was dragged by the noose to the altar, he had no business moaning this much.
“She got pregnant na! So I had to marry her.”

Oh God! He made it sound like such a burden. His words provided a bit of clarity into why he always seemed so miserable. Upon further talk, he revealed that the pregnancy for which he got married was lost in a miscarriage, and as such he was ‘stuck’ in the situation. Whilst I had very little sympathy for him – I’m not really a fan of the victim mentality – it did make me wonder about the different ways his story could have turned out.

It is my belief that when two consenting adults are having unprotected sex, they’re in a form of committed relationship, and they are ready for any of the consequences – STDs and babies. Neither party should be allowed to wallow in self-pity if any of the by products of their actions come to play.

Now, because mistakes happen, and nothing is ever 100% certain, what do you do when you’re not ready to have babies – psychologically, emotionally and financially – and a pregnancy comes into the mix?

In the past, it was believed that the honour of a woman was not to be besmirched, and as such a man was under an obligation to marry the woman – societal expectations enforced the binding of two willing or unwilling parties. Parents, largely out of shame, would tether their children together. This was based on the premise that if you’re having enough sex to allow yourself get pregnant, then you should be ready to live the rest of your life with that person.

However, we know that marriage is a life long commitment. Is it enough to make a decision of a lifetime based on the fact that you’re having a child together? The child will grow up and leave the nest. A paternity test could reveal that the child isn’t yours. Also, like my friend, you could lose the pregnancy? Or the child may die; then you’re stuck with someone you were just okay with shagging.

It can be argued that the flip side of this is, falling hopelessly in love with the person during the process of waiting for the child to be born. This happens a lot in novels and movies. From what Mills & Boons writers would have us believe, two Friends with Benefits will suddenly realize they can’t live without each other while choosing strollers and picking out baby cots. In this case, the marriage would be a beautiful love story – “Your Mummy wasn’t sure she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. Then you came along and one day while we were deciding what colour to paint your room, she knew she couldn’t spend another day without me” *cue fairy tale music in the background*

In real life, depending on the state of the relationship before the added element of a child, a couple may discover things about themselves, which might help strengthen the bond. All is well that ends well, right?

Another angle to consider on the subject is the idea of using the pregnancy as a form of entrapment. In this case, it isn’t really a mistake; instead, it’s a calculated attempt on the part of the woman to bring a child into the relationship. Some people believe that they can tip the scales of indecision by tweaking the parameters of the relationship. Like any calculated business decision, it is a risk. The man might decide that it is immoral, or unethical to have his child unclaimed/unacknowledged; in this vein, he might decide to marry the mother of the child in order to bestow legitimacy on the child. In that case, the woman is getting the title, the husband and all the trappings that come with being ‘settled’. It becomes immaterial that the man was manipulated into the arrangement. He will be very alright!

The deception is not an exclusive right of female folk. Stories abound of how some men swap their partners’ birth control pills with placebo tablets. This is done on the basis that if chic gets pregnant, she won’t go anywhere.

In some cultures, the man doesn’t even have to make an overt proposal of marriage –once it is proven that the pregnancy/child is his, the woman automatically absorbed as the wife. There’s a Yoruba adage that is loosely translated to mean ‘A woman who has had a baby for one ceases to become a concubine – said woman is a wife’

If, however, the entrapment plan is unsuccessful, the woman is stuck with a child for the rest of her life – and a reminder that she took a risk on a project that never took off.

The Pregnancy Ambush is not a new concept; is a culturally cultivated and encouraged – forget what you read on the Internet about your body being the Temple of the Most High. That advice becomes a tiny whisper when you get to the other side of your 30s. And until we’re ready to stop making people feel like they have a deficiency if they’re not married, then, the Pregnancy Ambush is here to stay. We can only continue to encourage people to have protected sex – for their sakes, and for the sake of the child who didn’t ask to be used as a pawn in the Commitment War.

The Misadventures of the Reply All Button

A few weeks ago, a seemingly innocent email popped into my mailbox. The sender of the email was someone named ‘Tunde Goma’. Other visible recipients of the email were variants of the ‘Tunde Goma’ name. I did a quick scan of the contents, and it looked like spam, so I did what ordinarily came to me – marked it as spam. Next thing I knew, emails poured in, in droves: “Take me off this list”, “How did I get on this list?”, “I’m not interested in politics. I don’t want this email”, “Who gave you my email? address”.

Why was I getting emails about people complaining about receiving an email? Why were they all using the ‘Reply All’ button? More importantly, why were they clogging my inbox with their rants about wanting to get off the list?

Ah! Hold on… was my ‘Mark as spam’ button not working properly? Oh well, thank God for Gmail and the ability to create filters. I created a filter with the appropriate keywords, and directed all related emails to the BIN!

The Tunde Goma emails in the trash became my entertainment for the week. How was it that seemingly intelligent people decided to take a break from simple logic? In order for the ‘problem’ to go away, you don’t feed the monster! How hard was it to figure out that hitting the ‘Reply All’ button was counter productive? One of the emails read: “How did I get on this list at all in the first place??!! I DON’T want to be here! Full stop”

We needed the ‘Full stop’ for emphasis. Really, we did.

Anyway, what started as a seemingly innocuous email became a baptism of irritating emails. By the end of the week, I had an idea that the recipients of the email were people in the Nigerian media industry, Nigerian entertainers, and Nigerian ‘Twitter Overlords’. People went crazy with the Reply All button – ignoring the fact that some of their signatures had their phone numbers and professional designation. Talk about brand promotion.

I’ll share some of the funniest responses to the Tunde Goma email

Pls take me off this list as well. At this point I’d recommend that you ask for people’s permission before you flood their inboxes with emails. Your intentions may have been good, but this is the worst way to go about it. You’ll end up upsetting/irritating the very same people you are trying to recruit.
– Nigerian music artiste and co-label head.

Aww, how cute! How about you take your own advice and not hit ‘Send’ after the ‘Reply All’ button? You ended up irritating a lot of people.

i dont know why i am getting all these messages?am i a politician?please remove me ASAP – Popular blogger

WTF!!!!!! take me off this nonsense – Okay, I don’t know what this guy does but I see his name a lot in emails. I’m guessing he’s a blogger.

Something went wrong somewhere pls like the photographer said, stop responding and simply delete the message(s). You all are clogging my mailbox.
Haba! – Somebody.

Look how he/she ended up clogging all our mailboxes with his/her own email.

Guys… Please… Stop…. Responding… To… The… Email. Everyone wants off the email. When you stop responding it’ll all stop. A few people have mentioned this earlier but people still aren’t paying attention. We are the ones spamming our own inboxes!!
Please let my annoying, yet clarifying email be the last one. – Creative Filmmaker.

Aww she’s cute… and funny too. But she ALSO used the ‘Reply All’ button. Not so funny.

This is a lot of distraction, please remove me from your mailing list – Her signature revealed she works in Corporate Services in a big Nigerian bank.

It was clearly not enough of a distraction as she was focused enough to reply ALL!

How do I get out of this ? – The name didn’t ring a bell.

But I could just hear the pain behind these words. Bless! Filter, honey. Filter!

Three days later, we were still getting the emails.

‎It’s Unfortunate That People Don’t Listen And Definitely Don’t Pay Attention To Instructions! I Can’t Count How Many Time People Been Writing For Others To STOP Replying And I Also Remember Toks Giving Instructions On How To Unsubscribe From The List! It’s Not Hard! Once You Open The Email Please Read The Thread BEFORE REPLYING!! Simple As ABC! JESOS! Is That So Hard??? I Don’t Have Problem With Who Sent! BUT I Have Problem With People That Are Looking For Solution For The Email To STOP without Following Instructions! Scroll To The Bottom Of The Thread And Click The Link To Unsubscribe that Way You Don’t Get In Your Inbox! Shikena! Dang People This Is 2015! Lets Be Up for a Sec! -Somebody.

But your guess is as good as mine. The emails didn’t stop. I think Jesus was offended that his name was misspelled.

Then, like a ray of hope in the darkness of my Trash Folder, this came:

Hi Tunde Goma,

Really admire the work you’re doing.

Please keep me on the mailing list, I never want to miss any of your emails ever, even if I’m the only one left here

Thanks so much for all you’re doing – Twitter Socio-Political commentator

I love how we can create gems from rubble! Of course we’re not Nigerians if we don’t descend slightly.

TUNE WHOEVER YOU ARE YOUR INBOX WILL NEVER KNOW PEACE AGAIN OH..HEHEHEHEHHEHEHE
I INTEND TO KEEP CLICKING ON REPLY ALL.
LEGGOOOO!!!

SHOKI AAAANH – Popular Blogger.

Then, Jesus was invited back.

Am begging you in Jesus name remove me from this mailing list – Another Blogger.

Can we take a few minutes to talk about this “I’m”/”Am” dichotomy? CAN WE PLEASE STOP? LET US STOP!

Okay back to our emails, people! Our Twitter socio-political commentator came back:

Hi All,

Sorry to bother you again but I’ve just been informed by Sir Tunde Goma that midnight today (Nigerian time) will be the deadline for anyone who wants to escape from the terror of this mailing list.

If you do not make your request to leave by tonight, then you will remain here until May 29th, democracy day.

God bless

He’s funny isn’t he? Yes, some people actually took him seriously!

Anyway, since we were clearly not going to get away from the emails, it was time to socialize… yes?

Since you people have refused to stop sending emails, and Tunde Goma has refused to accept my unsubscribe request, let us kuku start enjoying ourselves.
Shall we start with introductions? St**** and F**i, can you start, since na una dey enjoy this thread pass  – Writer/Journalist

Also, we must not pass off a chance to network either

Hi guys,

There’s a new paintball spot at Unique World, Wuse Zone 5, Abuja. However you have to book ahead by calling 08023500446 with a minimum of 6 players for the arena to be set up.

Come with family, friends or foes, in fact we can use Tunde Goma as target practice too if he avails himself.

Cheers – The name wasn’t familiar.

Moving on swiftly… remember I told you some people took our Twitter socio-political commentator seriously?

Gosh, this is beyond irritating.

I’ve been silent, watching it get worse, hoping it will stop, and now we are given a deadline as though we asked for this in the first place?

Two days ago I did the ‘unsubscribe’ thing that was supposed to be the cure to this madness, and thought hey presto, this is it. Two minutes after, more mails, more mails, more mails.

Kindly inform Sir Tunde Goma (whoever he is and however it is that he even has my email in the first damn place!!!) to please take me off this here thing. I’ve had enough.

Thank you, God bless.

My favourite… and absolute favourite email from the Tunde Goma saga was this one:

First off,

I have no idea where (whoever is the originator of this spam) got my email from and decided that mandatorily, I have to receive an unending flow of junk mail on a topic i’d rather not bother with.

With all due respect and for the respect for privacy, either: give people the opportunity to unsubscribe from this list or remove their emails from your list immediately upon request.

You have NO right to give people you are spamming an ultimatum. I am one of the few who acts more than I talk. And I will act in a way you may not find palatable if my email is not taken off your list and I receive no messages from you or 3rd parties you may have sent my email to.

Thanks.

Best,

*cue the hook for Tony Tetuila’s hit single “My Car”*

I think the emails stopped last week; I’m not sure. I haven’t been digging in my trash for a while.