Jabez

"Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain."

- 1 Chronicles 4:10



E get one of my real guys for yard wey para say I too dey blow grammar for this suntin. E dey worry me sootey one day, I siddon reason the matter till e reach the side wey I see say the bros no too yarn opata.
Naim I shadow am, beat my chest come declare based on say I be sure gal, I go put am for mind one day write in ahwah mother tongue.
As e get where I wan waka reach on the torey wey dey ground so, this thing no go end as e take start.
Before then, fear bin no catch me o but since na only me dey house and I just dey laugh dey smile throw-way like ‘sharp monkey’ wey find fresh bundle of N1,000 notes for koro use take wrap cra-fish I wan hail the wonderful weather for being the cause of the belle wey dey sweet me.

I could easily have made this a strongly worded attack on air transport companies in the country and their disregard for the safety of their so-called “valued customers” but I decided not to.
12am today made it a week since one of such ‘crafts’ took it upon themselves to have me marooned until midnight at the airport for close to 8hrs with nothing but cold iron seats to warm my fragile little bum.

When the long awaited flight finally manifested and the passengers seated and strapped within, they gave a lousy inaudible apology for the ‘slight delay’, no explanation as to why I wasn’t given my money’s worth and proceeded to distribute finger sized confectioneries, frizzy drinks and a pack containing a toothpick, a spoon and a sugar square.

Till today, I haven’t figured out what I am to do with said items from the pack.

Last week, I was in a bank.
I happened to have had reasons to be in several banks last week.
One thing they had in common was that the persons managing the customer care/service units were impatient, unfriendly and cranky. Unfortunately, bad customer care is not just a shortfall of banks, it occurs in several companies, facilities and centers in general.

It makes me wonder...


Customer |ˈkəstəmər|

noun

- A party that receives or consumes products (goods or services) and has the ability to choose between different products and suppliers.

- A person or organization that buys goods or services from a store or business.


Service fails when someone has left undone what should have been done or when some one has done what should not be done.


It’s in the name:


SERVICOM is an acronym derived from the words SERVICE COMPACT.
It is a social contract between the Federal Government and its people.
Established 21st March 2004, SERVICOM is meant to improve service delivery throughout the country (Nigeria).
Basically, SERVICOM is about service and service delivery; identifying where service fails or is failing with a view to improve service delivery.

Why SERVICOM was introduced in Nigeria
SERVICOM was set up in a bid to prevent, discourage and destroy the following:

i. Bribery and corruption
ii. Inefficiency
iii. Dereliction of duty
iv. Government work from being seen as nobody’s work
v. Re-appearance of missing file after “settling” someone
vi. Files not moving without being pushed with inducement
vii. Decisions not made without undue outside (external) influence
viii. People being short-changed in their expectations of the standard of service provided
ix. Damaging effects on amount of trust people had in public service and service delivery… blah, blah, blah.

BROAD OBJECTIVES OF SERVICOM
• To provide quality service to the people
• To set out the entitlement of the citizens
• To ensure good leadership
• To educate the citizens (customers) on their rights
• To empower public officers to be alert to their responsibilities in providing improved, efficient, timely and transparent service.

The available literature on SERVICOM is surprisingly in abundance (for a something with no evidence of being in function).

Yes! I see SERVICOM stickers, posters and suggestion boxes scattered randomly in the country but that is where it stops.

“The customer is king” might apply elsewhere in the world, but here, “if you do anyhow, you go see anyhow”.

Gradually and with time, we have lost sight of what is ours to keep and what we ought to reject.
We toil 24hours a day in a bid to make just enough money to spend on food, health and shelter.

At the end of the day, we are cheated.

Cheated of our right to justice, fairness and reward for labor.

We hope for a day when things will change, we hope for a better tomorrow, we hope for the best.

Hope is overrated.

An honorable man once said a prayer to God that he might prosper and be blessed.
God granted his request.

The man knew what he had, what he wanted and what he deserved.

Do you?

Wet

Thanks to one man’s blunder on national television, a new word was added to the lingo of the people.

For a long time, there was that awkward silence followed by a rush of words and finger signing promoted by a need to explain appropriately the relationship status when a guy who’s more than a boyfriend and less than a husband introduced some of us to his friends as “his woman”(– I shall get back to that phrase later on) that moment has ceased to exist! Now, Nigerian ladies can retain their composure, smile confidently and say, “he is my Oga at the top” in response to the (un)asked question.

Some days back, I wondered at the bizarre occurrence of dead cockroaches in compromising positions all over my house. Today, I got prove that although these animals might have a fondness for the dramatic in death, they are not gay.

This morning, I happened across two of them wavering on the banks of death. From their abdomen, I could tell they were both male. Feeling a little mischievous and inspired to ensure they did not feel alone as they danced to the shaking of the sheets, I placed one on top the other and went about my business.

On my way out this evening, I saw the roaches (now dead).
With their remaining strength, they summed up the energy to pull away from uncomfortable position I placed them in and proceeded to lay to rest on opposite sides of the corridor. The air about their corpses seemed to carry faint notes of the chant #nohomo#.

Except goats now have the intelligence to climb up a flight of spiraling stairs, gingerly step over lines of rat poison and pesticides, come to stop in front of their target and finally proceed to use their hooves to open trashcans and place the lids neatly beside the bin, I have reason to believe my trashcan is haunted!
With the fire invoking deliverance ministry and louder than life mosque not so far off, I will not be surprised if it happens that the demons they cast out come to seek refuge in my bin.

Man Men of the moment:

Last year, I was drooling all over Lynxx (Fine lady ft Wizkid), Wizboy (Fotojenik remix ft. Ikechukwu) and Psquare (Alingo) and concluded music meets hunka-hunka-burning lurv-edible men could not get any better.

Until I tuned my transistor radio and heard the song Three Wise Men (Ikon, Blackmagic, Blink) – B*stard.
Now beloved, I am presently experiencing a clear case of "the rethinks"!
Gobe (Davido), Tonight (Burna boy) and Eziokwu (Lynxx Ft. Ikechukwu, IllBliss & Phyno) have got me hankering for a degree in video editing just so I can blur out everyone, Photoshop me into the mix and have my wicked way with these luscious living lads!

Finally, this is not the entry for the week.
This entry is basically me, being herself and prompting you to be you too!

Shortly after this is the episode of one woman who jumped over the embers of doubts and "what if’s", scaled the walls of “I’d proceed tomorrow”, grabbed the opportunity bull by the balls and created a niche for herself.



http://thesecretlifeof678.blogspot.com/2013/04/suit.html

Suit

Iya Tower was born in the confluence state, formally called Kogi (the same place where Flora Louisa Shaw, future wife of Lord F. D. Lugard gazed upon the flowing rivers and got inspired to give our beloved country its name – Nigeria).

As a child, Iya Tower learned the art of cloth weaving which is the norm for the females of the Ebira women of Okene.
The young daughter is taught how to weave by her mother who was trained by her mother before her. It is the duty of the young child to learn the art and pass on the knowledge.
As a rite of passage of sorts, to be confirmed a woman, an Ebira woman must be able to weave with dexterity different patterns and lengths of cloth.

Times were hard and business was slow. Due to insufficient support from the government, it became hard for people to survive on the land and cloth making. With a young family to care for, Iya Tower decided she was not going to die of starvation, packed up her family and migrated to Ìlú Ẹ̀bá-Ọ̀dàn (Ìbàdàn); “the city at the junction of the savannah and the forest” founded by Lagelu, Oro a pata maja, on his arrival from Ile ife. This city thrice destroyed by anger, jealousy and greed in its early days, was able to each time rise up from its ashes rebuild itself and prosper. What better place than this to rise above poverty and excel?

Starting up was hard for Iya Tower.

Having no other skill but weaving, her options were few.
Rather than give into despair and flee, she sat pensively in front of her faithful loom and slowly began to weave.
She eventually picked up speed and has been at it for the past 18 years.

Aso oke, short for Aso ilu Oke (also known as Aso – ofi ) means clothes from the up country.
Although no one can tell me where this “up country” is located, the name remains.
The cloth is made with a weaving apparatus called the loom.
The loom is made of about 6 to 7 wooden sticks which serve different functions in the weaving of clothes.
The integral part of cloth weaving is the rolling of thread “a woman that cannot roll thread cannot call herself a weaver”.

I asked Iya Tower what she liked about her job.
With a smile, she said she liked it because it was fashion.
She created beauty.
“Beauty never goes out of fashion”.

Aso oke’s find use in wedding ceremonies, naming ceremonies, celebration of promotions, even burial ceremonies!


She admitted that although Aso Oke weaving was also done in Ghana, Illorin and Iseyin, it is only a Kogi woman that can weave the full aso oke.

These are commonly used as bedding, cover-cloths and in making clothes for men.

Displaying the different types of Aso Oke for me:

super net/ *Alawe,

damask,

embroidery, cone – *Etu/Sonju,

silk and *Jaowu she warned that weaving of the cloth was not for lazy people.

"It takes patience, persistence and diligence".

Still in awe of the lovely designs she created for me on request (at an affordable price), I wonder if and when the time comes, I would be able to hand them over to the real owner.



* native names might not be spelled correctly

Twenty Four

I don’t know if it was the ache in my neck or the scathingly cheerful voice on the radio that woke me but when I tried to move, the blinding pain was enough to encourage me to proceed with caution.
It turned out I had dozed off with my neck in an awkward position while waiting for a large file to upload.
As I tried to gradually reclaim said body part from the evil clutches of misery, the phone conversation between the on air personality (OAP) and lady I later discovered was *Wumi Adeyemi caught my attention.
She was gushing about a *Remi who happened to be the love of her life.
She had not seen him in close to two weeks and was missing him terribly. She bragged that he was the best thing sent to her from God adding that he showered her with gifts, affection and things no man could contest with.
Her apparent state of bliss and the sweetness of her confidence made me nauseous (it was either that or reaction to the neck pain). I prayed she’d ask the OAP to call him so I could hear how the so called Remi sounded.



My prayers were answered!

She asked the OAP to call him, pull his legs a bit and tell him she loved him to smithereens. In addition, she requested for the song “Endless love” a duet by Diana Ross and one man (the father of Paris Hilton's best friend that year) and dedicated it to him.

It was 11:58pm, almost midnight.

I held my breath while the phone rang afraid that Remi would not pick.

At the 6th ring, he picked!

The OAP greeted Remi, pretended to be someone from his circle and got him feeling relaxed and comfortable.
When Remi tried to politely admit he could not recall him, the OAP asked if he was still chasing plenty women like in the old days that he had a lovely woman to give to him.
Remi abruptly hushed him proclaiming in a firm voice that the only woman in his life was his beloved fiancé *Melody Folarin.



My neck miraculously healed, righted itself and snapped back into place.
I jumped off the bed, propped pillows behind me on the floor and leaned closer to my tiny transistor radio eager to hear how this drama will unfold.

The OAP asked Remi if the name Wumi Adeyemi rang a bell.

Before he could answer, I heard footsteps in the background and a sleepy singsong voice say “honey its late, come back to bed.”

The line went dead…



* Real names withheld


A day before, I decided that I’d move around with pen and paper and jot my thoughts alongside the time for 24 hours.
The following events took place between 4am and 12am (GMT +1)


04:15: do these Je*us deliverance ministry people ever sleep? One of these days, I’d… !!!

06:46: #yawn# is just me or is it awkward that I am always finding cockroaches lying dead in compromising positions around this house?

09:19: I’m waiting for my change at the store (came to buy #). I get this real sweet text from #. I am all smiles and blushes. I look up and find this scantily dressed man “returning” my smile – reasons why I shouldn’t smile and text.

13: 30: where do babies come from?

13: 37: I look at this mans tummy and I’m like dear G*d! I need to start working out! I wouldn’t want to be him.

14:18: hmm cutie! “Hi, have you ever kissed a girl in braces?” “No? You should! Would you like to kiss me?” “You aren’t comfy here? Don’t worry my candy red Ferrari is out back, would you like to go for spin afterwards?” “Take me, I’m yours” – what didn’t happen.

16:02: his agbada is so dirty; I wonder if I can give him a change of clothes. Would he hit me over the head with a stick and tear my clothes or spit in my eyeballs and tear my clothes. He’d look great in a form fitting jeans though. Nice figure. How do mad men react to kindness?

16:03: don’t do it! Don’t do it! Great, he did it. Yup! Out comes the willy *rolling eyes* now going to try not to look.

16:15: yeay! Nap time (phone rings)

16:16: *farts* peeyoo! That was nasty

19:03: I am hungry

20:54: wonder how I look when am pooping as in pushing real “hard”

20:55: does every body push real hard? (@ Pooping)

20:56: Eww I put the pen in my mouth!!

21: 00: I wonder what he is doing

21:16: I really should upload those files now

What's Myne (Part 3)

Baba Igho refused to rise he stretched his battered body on the ground and pulled his tattered clothes about him.
“Go away Akpos." He urged. "You have served me well and long. At this day and age, it is hard to believe I came across a man of your caliber. Whatever debt you feel you owe, I release you of them. If I had riches, I would have showered you with gold, coins and ornaments but I have nothing to offer. I have lost it all to pride and bad judgement. Akpos my friend, I will not let you loose your life for my sake. Leave while you have the advantage of youth. Learn from my mistakes, that of my daughters and their spouses. Be a better leader, landlord, father; a better person.”
Akpos squatted beside him, stretched the sleeve of his shirt and used it to mop Baba Igho’s weary forehead.
“Sir, I have learned a lot in the many days we have spent on the road. I am better for it. For the lessons, I am grateful. However, if I were to leave you lying on the road to die like a brigand, I will not be better than your daughters who have abandoned you in your time of need." He dropped his hand and leaned on his haunches. "Let me take you to your home and see that you are as comfortable as I can manage. Afterwards, I will leave you to your fate and go make a life for myself.”
Baba Igho considered his proposal for a while then agreed to his terms.
He let Akpos assist him to stand.

They continued the journey.

By day, they walked in the heat of the sun feeding on fruits and seeds.
At night, they rested. Setting up camp in the shade of trees with makeshift tents.
Days flowed into nights and nights to day.
Through the bone chilling rains, blistering cold and scorching heat, they continued to forge ahead.

Finally, they reached his estate.

When they drew near to the shack that had become his home, an elegantly dressed lady seated in front and watching the road let out a happy squeal and came running towards them.
She stopped in front of Baba Igho, threw her arms around his neck and folded him in a warm embrace.
In a little while, streaks of tears started to line her face.
Perplexed, Akpos tried pulling her away but she resisted. “Madam, this man is sick and he is quite dirty as well, come away from him, or your lovely clothes would be ruined."
As an after thought, he added. "He could also make you sick.”
She resisted his pull, held fast to Baba Igho and continued to shake with tears.
Akpos inched away certain the lady had lost her mind.

He began searching for a rope or bond of sorts with which to bind her for a little while (at least until her minder came in search of her).
He drifted to the side of the shack and stopped short at sight before him.
There was a mansion about a stones throw from the shack.

It was not there when they set out in search of the daughters.

The house glistered in the sun, flowers were budding in the little garden in front and he could hear laughter emanating from within.

The land looked like it was slowly awakening from a bad dream.

The curtains in one of the windows of the house moved and caught his attention.
There was a little girl behind the glass.
When she spotted him, she yelled with glee.
She disappeared from the window and reappeared at the door after a little while.
Running out of the house on little feet that appeared too big for the rest of her body, she bounded towards him and threw herself on his leg. She wrapped her chubby hands around him and gave him a hug.

Half dragging, half pulling him, she led him to Baba Igho and the lady. Bouncing up and down in excitement, she chanted. “You found him! You found him!” confused, he asked. “Found who?”

Baba Igho peeled the lady from his body and held her at arms length.
With a questioning look and a dare to hope, he queried.
“Mine?”
she looked into his eyes, smiled and nodded.
“Yes Father it is I, your daughter."
He let out a gasp.
"Not one day passed that I have not thought of you.”
She stroked the side of his face and blinked back tears that threatened to fall out.
“My husband, the sickly child of the bent lady got very ill, I could not leave his side. He was a good man, intelligent and kind. You would have liked him. The seeds you gave to mother, we planted, harvested and sold for huge profits. With the money we planned a future, invested and built a home. We have all we could want for but my husband is no more. His body was too weak to bear the strain of living. After making me promise to always be happy, he passed away. We have been looking for you ever since. Myself, your grandchildren and” she giggled. “ The bent old woman!”

Baba Igho shook his head in disbelief and stammered.
“But - but you do not love me.”
“Father." She urged. "I remember telling you I loved you as much as my duties required. I never said I did not love you.”
As understanding dawned on him, she continued. “ Father dearest, my duty is to love you until I take my last breath. To honor you, obey you and make a worthwhile life for myself. To do the right thing always, bring up honest children and teach them how to love. Most importantly, my duty is to be your daughter.”
She let out a winsome smile, took his hands and covered his shriveled palms with hers.
“ Father you carried me when I was a helpless baby and taught me to walk, laugh and sing. Please, let me be your daughter and your joy in old age.”
Myne led her father into the house she had prepared in his absence, washed him and nursed him till his health returned.

Akpos followed them.

Struck by Myne’s grace and beauty, he did not leave as promised. In time, he built the nerve to ask her to be his wife (she said yes!).

One by one, her sisters returned home (Myne saw to it).

Working together, they restored the land to its former glory. It prospered and was fruitful. In time, the tenants returned.

With each of the daughters finding happiness in honesty, respect for the land and love of their neighbor, they became better women.


Kiki got married again! To a politician whose word was his bond. Together, they built a formidable empire backed by the unwavering loyalty of the people.

Zizi ‘s footballer husband lost a leg, he came crawling back and demanded to be reconciled with her.
She turned him down and had a career. juggling being a teacher with being a makeup artist, she starred in another story.

Mimi and her husband went for anger management therapy and rehab. They learned the importance of communication and both agreed to seek counseling if ever their marriage seemed to be hitting the rocks (they were blessed with two children).

Once upon a time, there lived a great man. He was wealthy and powerful and his estate fertile and vast. His lands begun from the banks of a river and continued up stream to form a huge city.
His was a fair businessman and was good to his tenants.
His greatest assets were his children.

Successful, relevant and kind, his four beautiful daughters were the fairest in the land.
They loved their father to the moon, back and beyond and took care of him in his old age.

There was Justice, Peace and Prosperity in the land.
They worked for it, just like we all should.

…. And they lived happily ever after, the end!

What's Myne (Part 2)

Baba Igho was an unhappy man. His crops were failing and his livestock dying.
With the land refusing to yield sustenance, one by one his tenants moved away.
Left with no source of income, His riches dwindled and in time he fell very ill. Spending what was left of his money on nurses and medicine, he could scant afford to live.
Seeing the state of his affairs, his only remaining and faithful servant Akpos (a young man he had rescued from a life of debauchery and decay) packed up what was left of his belongings (they fit into a medium sized Ghana-must-go bag) and said to him. “Sir, you have suffered enough. If you recall, you once told me of your beautiful daughters. Kiki owns a quarter of your land, you wed her off to a politician who held promise. You must not stay here and die like a brigand. Come, let us go to Kiki. She is your daughter who loves you to the moon and back, she will care for you.” Without hesitation, they setout and made their way to the other side of the land.
They travelled for a few days and finally got to the boarders of the estate.
Getting closer, they were shocked at the sight before them.
The place was in ruins; there was poverty and sickness in the land.
When they arrived at Kiki’s abode, she was in tears bargaining with tax collectors.
Her children were holding unto themselves in the background emaciated and crying from hunger.
She was aware of their arrival but paid them no heed. After she had begged for a little more to no avail, she turned to her father and pointed at him accusingly. “This is all your fault father. You never taught me to share or care for others. Look! My land lies in ruins. After I sold all my tenant’s crops and took control of their meager means of livelihood to feed my family, my neighbors abandoned me. Now, having no one to take care of my bills, I am in debt.” Looking at the children with pity, Akpos asked. “Where is their father, your husband?” Kiki laughed hysterically. “Husband? Which husband? I got married to a shadow! No wait, a honey tongued serpent!! That man made so many promises, promises he never intended to keep. He led the people on and gave them hope. Feeding them with lies, lies and more lies. When the people got tired of his deceit and empty promises, they smothered the light of hope and took matters into their hands. After he had gotten fat on the wealth of the land, the land turned on him, tore him to shreds and ate him.” she sighed and added under her breathe. “ I could not find even his bones to bury and it is your entire fault father.” Waving her fingers dismissively, she turned to Akpos. “Get this wretched man out of my sight. I barely have enough to feed my children and myself and you want me to care for him? Can you not see I have guest?” The tax collectors got up in shock and retorted. “This man is your father! In a way, he is also our father for he gave us the means to start our trade. As you have no pity for an old man in his time of need, what you have, we shall take from you. We shall give it to your needy tenants and then cast you out from your home.”
Akpos picked their bags, reached for Baba Igho and led him away. “Come” he said. “We shall go to Zizi.”

Baba Igho and Akpos embarked on another long journey to Zizi’s estate.
On nearing the land, they were awed by the beauty before them.
There was a huge wall which ran around the boundaries of estate and came to stop at intimidating gates in front. When approached, they were halted by trollish looking guards. “Who are you?” they demanded. “This is Zizi’s father!” Akpos cautioned. Eyeing them with uncertainty, the guards deliberated quietly for a while before turning to them. “Wait here.” They ordered. “ We shall fetch the mistress of the estate and bring her to you.” Baba Igho and Akpos stood at the gates and waited for the guards to return.
Towards evening, decked in dazzling attire and doused in sweet smelling perfume, Zizi came to them. She stood at the other side of the gate and spoke. “Oh my father, can you see how beautiful I am? I wish you could come over here and admire my beautiful land but my husband loves me for my beauty and hates anything that is ugly.” A look of yearning and sadness crossed her face, she added softly. “He spends so much time away and comes home only when he is able.” She dispelled the emotion with a shake of her head, brightened up and continued. “ He says he makes me beautiful and I am grateful for that. He is all I have you see and I work very hard to keep him. I cannot dare to let him return and behold your unsightly forms. Please leave the premises now. You can come back when you are presentable.” She turned her back to them and hurried out of sight.

Baba Igho slumped to the floor and lamented. “Leave me now to die like a brigand Akpos, I can take it no longer. My daughters break my heart.” Akpos pulled him up and shouldered him to the side of the road. “Come now, all hope is not lost yet. Your last daughter Mimi will never turn you away. We shall pass the night in that shade down the road and at dawn, we will go to Mimi.” Baba Igho did as Akpos suggested and soon he was fast asleep.
They were awoken at dawn by screams in a distance.
It was coming from Zizi’s estate.
It was Zizi.
A fire broke out about midnight and burned half the land to the ground. In Zizi’s bid to escape the inferno, she slipped on a tube of skin moisturizing jelly and fell to the ground scarring her now delicate beautiful skin. Her husband returned shortly afterwards, He took one look at her minor injuries and decided he could not live with such ugliness.
Faced with the reality of loosing her beauty and husband in the same day, she ran mad with grief.

Akpos packed their belongs and roused Baba Igho. “Come.” He coaxed. “ It is time to leave.”
The road to Mimi’s estate was littered with debris and decay.
They sidestepped refuse and carefully made their way to her abode.
A man who bore a striking resemblance to Mimi’s husband opened the door.
“Where is Mimi?” Akpos asked. The man laughed and threw the door wide open. “Come on in!” They entered the place and saw Mimi.
She was huddled in a corner of the living room.
Her hands and feet were bound and her eyes tied shut.
“Who are you?” Akpos demanded. The man laughed menacingly, sat down on a thread bear sofa and signaled to a scantily dressed female (there were a handful of them drifting about the house). She disappeared momentarily and returned with a tray bearing glasses of liquor, pills and suspicious looking powders. She dropped the tray beside him, disappeared for a while again and came back with another tray.
Squatting in front of Mimi, she cut up pieces of bread, coated it with some of the powdery substance and forced her to eat it. Some of the females came forward and picked a glass or tablet from the tray while the rest continued their confused roaming about the house. “Join me!” the man offered, they shook their heads declining. The man shrugged, helped himself to a glass and spoke between sips. “I am what is left of that woman’s husband. She terrorized me, pushed me and eventually broke me. Even after the music left my soul, she wouldn’t let me be. She turned me into a lapdog to do her every bidding. When my fans saw what I had become, they came to my rescue. They gave me a way out and took care of her for me. Now all she does is seat in that corner and cry, she tells me the drinks and drugs will be the ruin of me and begs to be set free but I will not be enslaved again.”
Akpos ran to her side and made to release her but people who seemed to materialize from thin air held him back. The man held a gun to the back of his head and whispered. “Touch her and you die. She is mine and mine alone. You are not welcome here, leave now and never return.”
Akpos went to Baba Igho’s side, held his hand and led him out of Mimi’s estate.
“Where are we going?” Baba Igho asked. “Back to your miserable life.” Akpos replied. “Your daughters have turned away from you in your old age and you have no where else to go. You shall return to the ruins you call home and die there like a brigand.” Baba Igho stopped walking. “That is not true,” he said hesitantly. “ I have not three but four daughters.” Akpos turned to him a flicker of hope crossing his face. “You do? In my years of serving you, you never mentioned a fourth child. Where is she?” Baba Igho bowed his head in shame. “I do not know. I stripped her of her inheritance and cast her out when she was a young child.” He reached for a broken branch lying on the road, picked it up and used it as a staff. “ Come Akpos, let us return to my miserable life, I deserve to die like a brigand.” He dropped the staff...




.... to be continued