I am in love

People, meet Ricardo Darin. Argentinean veteran actor starring in the award winning cinematic beauty, The Secret in Their Eyes. All I can say, is yes, Ben-hah-meen, I am yours...forget Irene.
Go see it and tell me what you think

Information

Food...

Picture from here

I am on a quest to kick my current dependence on food as a pick-me-up. I think there can be a healthy way of enjoying good cuisine without my gut hanging over my belt buckle. For once, I would like to reach for an item in my wardrobe and not worry of it will still pass over my man-like shoulders which always seem to be expanding at the rate of the current oil spill in the gulf...

The world through our eyes

picture from here
I was returning from a guilt-laden trip to Bed Bath & beyond where i had picked up a pack of my current addiction, Tazo Passion Tea when i saw something that both amused and humbled me at the same time.

A little girl of about four was walking with her mother through the mall and they go to the escalators. She panicked for a few seconds as she tried to understand how to place her foot on the first step without falling down as the steps, which would be considered a moving nuisance by some, moved on its automated way. She clutched at her mother, who took her hand in a vice like grip to stabilise her stance, lest she go flying. The little girl tried again, each time not quite so sure of her self. This all was just a couple of seconds but already a line was beginning to form and irritation was beginning to appear on the faces of those who could not seem to believe the audacity of a four year old who was confused and disoriented by an escalator. Finally, her mother sensing that the lesson on overcoming her fear of moving objects would have to wait another time, lifted her in one fell swoop and carried her the rest of the way. And the little girl, held on to her mother for dear life. But she did not take her eyes off the escalator steps.

I imagined what they looked like to her; or what the world looked like either.

It took me back years when I hated sitting in my mother's mazda because it was a small car. Then, we lived in Benin City in Ugbowo Estate, which was across from the University of Benin, an illustrious institution whose front gates were some kind of automobile depot because all kinds of cars were either zooming past, turning in or parked out there. Any time, my mother waited at the intersection to make a turn into the campus, I would have small panic attacks because I was convinced that her car was so small and that people would not see us there. Or that the wind from speeding trucks would lift us into the air and into our next incarnations. Everything was huge and fast and crazy looking.

I pinch myself sometimes when I can cross a street in just a few strides because when I was little, I would run across, convinced that the road was so wide that I would not be able to reach the other side in time.

I remember sitting in my father's reading chair to measure how close to the floor, my feet were because that meant I was growing and that when I sit, my scrawny legs would not be poking over the edge.

When we are little, things are sometimes alarming and when I say little, I don't mean just your physical size, it can also be your outlook on life. When you feel like circumstances or experiences dwarf your abilities, you panic and flail and it all seems crazy. But there is always someone who has your hand. That someone (whoever you believe that to be), waits a it to see if you have the hang of it and if you do, you triumph and move on and if you don't, that person lifts you up over the issue; with the knowledge that you will still have to learn your lesson but next time, hopefully you will have other experiences under your belt that the speed of an escalator would be minute in comparison.

Take the time, to appreciate how far you have come. Remember, there was once a time, when you were no larger than a loaf of bread....but look at you now....

Feriado...

This song has been on constant replay for two days straight because this is how I am feeling....

Reel Speak: Human- Alien conflict

picture from here.

As a developing filmmaker, I do find myself in conversations with other creative minds on the content that is either out there, or presenting itself. One such conversation that I had recently was on this recurrent theme when it comes to aliens in western movies.


Anytime there is a non-human presence, two things seem to be the only option that the writers can fathom: 1)the aliens are weak, broken, fleeing catastrophe and stumble on earth. we initially declare them enemies and then we realise that there is no need to and so we figure out a way to send them on their way before some mad scientist/government group tries to experiment on them. Then we congratulate our humanity for having gotten "rid" of the "foreigners" in a "humane" way. Or
2) They have come to invade and humankind is in a race against time to save itself from the invasion of the heartless, exploitative inhuman invaders.

The two lines of thought do make for interesting projects as seen over the years with the many blockbuster hits that line DVD shelves. For once however, can someone imagine a scenario where the aliens are not even remotely interested in us; that they were "passing by" and then stopped to "find out" what we were. Then, having dsicerned that well, we were just another lifeform entitled to its existence, they went on with their busy day.

The human consciousness tends to imagine that humans are the most important thing there are; assuming that humans were created to dominate all other things out there. It is arrogant to imagine that an entire solar system was created so "we" could explore and colonise for our use and advancement; such is the motivation behind explorations to Mars where scientists argue that it could be an alternate habitat for humans after we screw up the earth.

It will be so interesting to see the ass whooping that will come about when humans land on mars, having assumed that nothing lived there only to find that its inhabitants are possibly not in forms visible to the naked, human eye but more on a subconscious, psycho-spiritual level.

Don't you think that might make an amazing script instead of the "War of The Worlds"/ "V" scenarios?

This is how I am feeling today...

@ Crumbs and Coffee

tud

One the few times that I have gone to a cafe seeking free internet, I have always chosen a seat where I can either observe whoever comes into the space or whoever is passing by. This is partly because I am very adverse to having my back to people; must stem from a past life experience or something of being stabbed or something or maybe even the fact that I always have my earphones in and will jump if you touch me. In any case, I love to sit and watch people.

I am kind of an oddity. Work well with crowds but always feel like I am on the outside looking in. Part introvert. Part extrovert. Talk alot but very careful that I say only what I want you to hear. Been called weird but I choose the term "eccentric".



So I sit and watch people, imaginging where they are coming from, going to or thinking. I look at what they wear and craft stories around what I see. The human being is such a fascinating thing to study because it lives within its own consciousness and thus its perception of the world around it is as varied as there are grains of sand on this earth. Yes, sometimes, these views intercept and there is a collective consciousness about the same thing; think, a family, a community, a people or a nation. Still each one is unique and powerful.

Just one of the many things I think about sitting in the window of Adams Morgan's "Crumbs & Coffee" looking out on 18th street and hoping that my sitting stance is lady like and not the reason this homeless guy keeps waving at me.

Come out and get your read on...

The Farafina Trust Creative Writing Worshop ends with a literary evening on May 29th at the Civic Centre, Ozumba Mbadiwe, Victoria Island, Lagos.

Time is 3pm.

The event will be featuring readings by Chika Unigwe, author of The Phoenix; South African writer Niq Mhlongo, author of Dog Eat Dog; Ghanian author and playwright, Ama Ata Aidoo; Caine Prize winner, Bard Fellow and director of the Chinua Achebe Centre for African Writers and Artists, Binyavanga Wainaina and a host of others.

Admission to the event is free.

Casting Call

Immediate Casting Call for comedic short.

One Male (20-24), race undefined.
One female (20-24), race: Black/african or Asian.

Unpaid. Send in headshots, CV and availability to baniproductions@gmail.com.

Seriously Speaking

I had the chance a couple months ago, to interview rising Asian American band, Seriously. Two months and alot of wahala later, I finished the edit, all by myself and here it is.
Go to to the site to comment and vote it up. maybe I will make it on TV...

The Fight for Freedom

When I first heard the story of Lisa Ling and her colleague were being held on suspicion of espionage by the North Korean government after they were spotted filming an investigative news feature on the border of Korea and China, I wondered aloud what would possess them to go so far into dangerous territory. Yes, I admire the courage that is necessary when one quests for the truth but I likened it to the two women wandering naively into Hitler's territory thinking that they would not be arrested by the Gestapo.

I was even more intrigued by the media storm and its amazing climax when the former president of the United States, President Bill Clinton had to personally go to north Korea to secure their release. By then, the two women had been put on a hasty trial, found guilty and sentences to twelve years imprisonment. For standing on the wrong soil.

It made me wonder if at all, any Nigerian had ever been in the same situation, seeking some diplomatic intervention and if at all anything had been done. I have no grand illusions of our ambassadors' abilities to help Nigerian citizens; as we all know, most of those who are imprisoned abroad, really did get in trouble.

Still, I was, as I have been many times, fascinated by the American consciousness where thousands worked tirelessly to secure the release of the two women and get them home. Would it not be nice to know that your people love you no matter what? And would fight for you?

They are so busy fighting each other for themselves.....

One of the reasons I might move to Cali

It seems all the creative minds that I would like to work with are there....

ILLEGAL - 2007 Tribeca Film Festival from Andrew Oh on Vimeo.

Alone in a Crowd

Picture from here

It is so easy not to be seen. Even when you walk right in front of their eyes, stand by their side, reach for the same cellophane wrapped plastic spoon to stir the very same scalding building liquid they have purchased for their daily morning cafeine fix. It is so easy that it is alarming.

You don't have to put in much effort, you know. To disappear. makes one wonder: If I leave, who would care?

It is so easy not to make a sound. Even when your lips are moving and words are tumbling out at the speed of a torrential rain's downpour. Even when you exhaust countless cellphone minutes on calls to nowhere about nothing. Even when the words merge into a hollow scream. It is so easy that it is alarming.

You don't have to put in much effort, you know. To disappear. makes one wonder: If I leave, who would care?

It is so easy to be forgotten. Even when your history reads like the inside of a novel. Even when the pictures cataloguing the memories fill albums, one after countless other. Even when your names are carved with a crooked knife in the stained concrete steps outside of the old buildings that you stood infront of. It is so easy that it is alarming.

You did not put in much effort, know. So I think you should disappear. Makes me wonder. If you leave, would I still care?

What next

I have had a nickname for years as a result of my hair. It is....Bumbum Poullet. That is, the back end of a chicken. As in, the hair on my head is so thin and feathery that it resembles the hair on the butt of a chicken. For the most part, I have learned to live with it. In my childhood, I looked on in silent, grieving envy as classmates showed up to class on Monday sporting the weekly hairstyle. I said nothing when my "suku" (cornrows in a bun) did not quite make it into the scrunchie or when my "kolese" (cornrows facing forward) never fell over my face and instead stood like a row of pimples on my shiny forehead. I endured it all because I knew my time would come.

For it had been written that once I graduated from secondary school, I would be allowed to whatever I wanted with my hair. I could put in a perm, extensions, straw, sand or anything that I wanted to make up for my lack of natural, thick, fast growing tresses.

And for the most part I did. Had so much fun. Thought I was the sexiest thing ever.

Then I moved to the United States.

And doing my hair was the same cost as some kid's school fees...

So i tried to learn to perm my hair myself. Lost 1/3 of it.

Then I got a friend to braid it. Lost 1/3 of it.

Got a professional to braid it. Got some of it back

Put in extensions with glue. Lost 1/2 of it again.

Then I cut it all off. So lost most of it.

It grew and I permed it back.

Then I put in a few weaves... the whole front of my hair left me when I took the weaves out.

Put in braids....

And now they must come off.

I am now faced with a few scenarios:

As I have not permed my hair in donkey months, most of it is back to its natural stat. However, I have no hair line. At this rate, I can join the Balogun Market chapter of Lagos Market women and fit right in with my hair line that starts from the center of my brain.

So,

Should I take out my braids, perm my hair and cut it into a style so there is no weight on the front of my head?

Put in another round of braids...pick-and-drop with curls

or a full head of weave...so i don't have to put in any more chemicals and I can just keep my head natural.

The costs vary, the out come varies...but the hair remains poullet-esque.

I have been eyeing the Victoria Beckham cut for a while...

What say you, my dear friend?

Looking at my watch

11:44 pm/ Tuesday/ May 11:
Contemplating whether to eat something. Don't want to be hungry in the morning. No snacks. Should really stop eating at odd hours... have a paper to write. Let me get my supporting materials out. I need to work out. Should stop by Payless and try to get a pair of cheap sneakers. Payless has become Paymore...silly people...the shoes will not even last beyond Summer so why are they being so expensive. That is the whole point of shopping there...or maybe I should just invest and go to Foot Locker...I should open my own Foot Locker...it is at moments like this that I miss Tejuosho Market and the wonderful options that our Aba based creators provide...maybe I should eat something....

Baby Steps

I have been anticipating the wide release date of this documentary, "Babies" with mixed feelings. On one hand, I cannot wait to see what the director was able to capture in almost two years of following four children from diverse backgrounds from around the world from their delivery till when they took their first steps.


On the other hand, I was a bit miffed that the African baby that was chosen came from the mud deserts of Namibia and thus enforces the stereotype of how people live in Africa.
I have watched a few interviews with the documentary filmmaker and there does not seem to be any malice or preconceived notions on his part...and so far, I have not heard anything stereotypical from the interviewers (if that is a word). When I can, I will go see it, how about you?

No words...

What is there to say?
Nothing.
What about you?

Use Your Bed Nets. Keep Mosquitoes out.

PSA I shot and directed for the Remi Caxton-Naibi Foundation as part of their Malaria prevention initiative to coincide with World Malaria Day.
The first one, I edited myself.
The second one was done by a professional. Support the initiative.
Use Your Bed Nets. Keep Mosquitoes out.

RemiFoundation.org from stoiQa on Vimeo.

When it is your turn

So, people who know me, know that I have had some choice words about the general level of ignorance that I tend to find among Americans about what goes on outside of their boarders. Almost everyone who is not white has stories a dime a dozen about some stupid thing that was said to them regarding their ethnicity.



I mean for Asians, they get the chin-chun-why-r-ur-eyes-so-small-u-eat-dogs-r-u-all-good-at-math, or that they are all Chinese. For Africans, we get the inquiries about war, poverty, disease and whether or not we have wildlife game reserves in our backyards and we swing Tarzan-style on our way to school. Middle eastern people have to answer about Islam and terrorism. I am not sure what South Americans get but I am sure it would go along the lines of Tacos and Immigration issues. In any case, we get them all the time, roll our eyes and retreat behind our walls of derision and self importance, imagining that we ourselves would never make such a mistake.




And we mostly never do.
Or at least, I don't.
I am quite geographically enlightened.

Which is why, I was stunned to hear myself asking a colleague at work if Panama was close to the Philippines....







And I was serious too


Even more amazing was that for a good minute, in the world map I had drawn in my head, Phillipines was somewhere next to Mexico and Brazil. How that was working out in there is probably a research topic for another day but I could not believe that I could be so clueless and then so vocal about it.







I mean, I was at a table full of superiors....
Aargh, I guess I had to learn a lesson on compassion and respect.


People will always ask stupid questions. And if they do so of you, reply politely with the correct answer and thank your stars that you did not make the mistake and that you knew the answer.


And FYI:
Panama is in Central America. Close To Costa Rica, you know at the bridge connecting North America and South America....

Phillipines is in Asia

And I am going to read a book

The time will come

There will come a time
When you will know my name
When you will know my touch
When you will know my taste
When you will know my smell
When you will know my sound
When you will know my feel
And when the time comes
It will be like you always did

Like there was no time before
Like there was no meeting
Like we just were
We just did
We are just being

There will come a time
When you will hold my hand
When you will feel my warmth
When you will start my laugh
When you will sing my song
When you will quiet my screams
When you will trigger my heart

And when the time comes
It will be like you always did

Like there was no time before
Like there was no meeting
Like we just were
We just did
We are just being

Till the time comes
I alone know your name
I know your age
I know your place
I know your scent
I know your face
I know
I know
I know
I know

Casting Call

Looking for 1 male/female (ages 8-10, with an African accent for an unpaid PSA shoot to benefit the Remi Caxton-Naibi foundation's drive to increase awareness on the use of bednets for the prevention of malaria. The shoot is to take place this weekend April 17th 2010.

Please forward resume, head shot and contact to ebaraje@gmail.com for consideration.

G-40 Summit

Did the best I could with a dicy situation and footage...

I survived...flash back...join me in twenty minutes

Co-hosting this morning:

Here's the direct link to the show we're doing: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/verastic/2010/04/10/i-survived

To participate, you can do so in three ways:

1. Call in - 1.646.929.1905

2. E-mail your comments: radio@verastic.com

3. Text your comments: 1.443.934.9039

There is a live, interactive chat room during the show (but you'll have to become members of blog talk radio (which is free by the way) to chat.

See you guys soon

The W: A lesson on human discontent

With lighting and decor more suited to the set of the vampire guilty pleasure HBO series, True Blood, downtown Minneapolis' The W @ the Foshay was like an unabashed seduction of the senses. Its owners wanted you the visitor to feel very specific things: decadence, opulence, indulgence and if you so dared, your wildest fantasies come to life. For me, my first reaction was, how could I have been coming to Minneapolis for the past four years and not known that such a hotel exists.

Because you see, every time I did visit Minneapolis for the bi annual Eckankar seminar, my movements were restricted to the Hilton on Marquette Avenue, the ingenious skywalk that protected me from the city's unforgiving harsh weather and the convention center where most of the events would be held. Somehow, and maybe because I never inquired, I never heard about the W or knew that it was just a block away.

I was to share accomodations with friends--a good way to cut down costs--for three nights but because none of us could get ourselves and finances together on time, we booked a bit late, the result of which was that we were able to get two nights in our old faithful seminar hotel, The Hilton and one night at the W. None of us had heard about the W and we were just grateful that we were able to get a room at a very discounted price, last minute.

Our room's statement of purpose was clear: This is not where you bring your kids. This is not even where you come to relax. You come here to indulge. From state-of-the-art slate grey tiles and shower heads that moved by sensors, to a bathroom walls that would make the dedicated voyeur weep with pleasure, walls blackened for effect and every technological gadget you can think of. We spent almost an hour, just messing with the stuff. Anyone watching us would not know that between us three, was medical degree, an engineering degree and an architecture degree. Even the faucets came with a manual. And to drive home the point that the hotel was not for the "good" boys and girls, we had a bar stocked with the most number of alcohol brands I had ever seen outside of a liquor store.

All the time we had been coming, we had always been happy to stay at the Hilton. It was convenient and it was quite nice but two minutes into the lobby and we began calculating how we could afford the next trip and this time stay at The W, the entire weekend. When we had to check in to the Hilton, the next day, we did so with a sigh, nitpicking at everything in our room. That was when we noticed holes in the curtains or that there were some lumps in the mattress. Or that the soap provided for us to wash our hands had no exotic scent.

In short, The W had stripped The Hilton naked and spanked it public....and from the way The W was designed, I am sure it liked to do just that.

I was just tickled by the fact that before this, if you had asked me the best place to stay, I would have been singing the Hilton's praises even before you finished your question. I still like the Hilton, but now I want the Foshay. Talk about discontent....sigh.

What are you lusting after now and pushing to the back burner in other to have it?

Boston and Seriously the band

Went to Boston over the weekend and fell in love with the city....from the interior of a taxi cab. I was in town to interview one of my favourite bands ever--and I don't listen to bands at all--the amazing, Seriously The Band. Yes, that is their name: Seriously the Band.

I was able to sit down with Chris Pham (lead vocals), Joshua Baek (electric guitar), Nathan Park (bass guitar) and Philip Park (drums and viola) and even got to hang out with them albeit for a very short time spent walking briskly through the cold with them trying to help me keep up as I labored over cobbled stones in heels.

I did get to visit the Quincy market. It's this huge food court that looks like it has been around for the better part of a century but was surprisingly, as I was told by one of the vendors, only about a quarter of a century old.

Bumped into an African woman who came to speak to me just because of my hair. I have on braids, done by a Nigerian friend of mine and you know we braid, THE RIGHT WAY. She was crestfallen, when I told her that I was not from Boston and that my friend was not in the area to do her hair for her...there is always a market for people who can do hair for black people in cities where the whites are the majority.

I visited the Northeastern University Campus and was so blown away by the facilities. Even though it was unfair, I could not help but compare it to Howard University, my alma mater and for the first time in a long time, I was hungry to be back in school, learning something. And the count down to grad school begins....or not.

It was too cold for me to really explore and my friend and I are thinking of going back in the summer when the winter has been completely chased away and we can go around and be shameless tourists....

Had fun...even though I was battling some trepidation over some personal issues. Nonetheless, it was a nice quick trip, one that I will take again.

How was your weekend?

Pride comes before a fall

picture from here

In two consecutive years, I had roommates while in College that made me constantly mad because our personal levels of hygiene were on different scales. One came from a home where I assumed she did not have to do any housework and so was unaccustomed to cleaning up after herself and the one after that, spent more time in malls and on her make up than she did, keeping herself clean. The irony on the second roommate was that she was most sought after by alot of guys and I always wondered how they were never deterred by the fact that to get into her room, they had to mount the summit that was her dirty clothes. We never fought, but I always harbored resentment that I was constantly having to clean the bathroom of hair and make up powder.

The make up was the most annoying thing for me. She had every conceivable beauty product from every major brand --infact, she had a book that showed how to create different looks in numbered products, brushes and applicators, of which she had them all. Every morning was an unbreakable regiment of curling hair weaves and face paint. And the staining of my counter to a dirty, disgusting brown. She used powdered and liquid foundations that dripped and splattered, brushes that shed all over the place, swabs that were always laying around, eyeshadow palettes that were always falling out of their holders, hair brushes that had more hair sticking out of them than glued to her scalp where they ought to be and so many other things that I had no idea the nature of their purpose.

I remember saying to myself, "I can never be like this".

Flash forward to today. My bathroom, though not as dirty is littered with the makeup brands that I can afford. And what else? The fallen powders of my foundations. I now have the same disorderly space. In the morning, I am in a hurry and don't have time to clean up after myself so I leave everything lying around: curling irons, make up brushes, tubes, lotions, lipsticks, perfume, combs/ brushes, pins and whatever I need to make myself feel pretty and presentable for my day. My bathroom has been destroyed by my own daily regimen.

I wish I had not been so quik to criticize her. I do however keep my bathroom as clean as I can. Everything gets washed and wiped down every other day with industrial strength disinfectant wipes and I have two huge make up bags to throw everything in but I can't help hearing my own voice in my head on those days when I come in from a long day out to see that in my haste to leave hours earlier, I left everything out and about...

You have the same experience? Is there something that you used to chide someone about that you, yourself now do?

Casting Call in DC/MD/VA

OPEN CASTING CALL

SCORE (A SINGLE-SCENE SCRIPT)

We are holding an open casting call for a film short. We are looking for the principle characters below. This is a DC locality shoot requiring local talent. Shooting will occur the week following the audition and requires a minimal amount of time.

WHO: 1 female between the ages of 22 and 35; must be a proficient keyboard player

1 male between the ages of 22 and 35

WHAT: Auditions for a 5-7 minute short film

WHERE: Arlington, Virginia

WHEN: Tuesday, March 23, 2010, 7:00 – 8:30 PM

All who audition are expected to perform a brief monologue as well as a scene from the script. The script is based heavily upon non-dialog facial expression. Female role requires piano playing proficiency. Reviewers will include a panel of members from the production team. All audition performances will be filmed and interviewed by the panel.

If you are interested in auditioning, please contact me using the information below. We will send you the audition script, as well as additional information upon confirmation of your interest. Only submissions that include both CV/resume and headshot will be considered.

This is an unpaid production. All participants will receive film credits.

Contact Information:

Sandra Hope: shope4life@gmail.com (include “SCORE AUDITION” in the subject heading)

1. The rains have come and with them a shroud of grey. The winter chill is still here, holding on valiantly to its reign over us, unwilling to let the spring in but we all know it is a pointless fight. The seasons change. Always. And Spring comes around.

2. Watched my bi monthly dosage of Indian movies. Have two new songs to add to my ipod. See here and here

3. Catching up on my Korean dramas and I think I might like the show "Pasta". My baby daddy, Alex Chu
is in it and so is my former baby daddy, Lee Sun Gyun, whom I had to give up cos he went and got himself married. No worries, Alex currently fulfills my fantasies' desires and I have taken up residence on his beautiful site.

4. Looking forward to the week ahead because I know it holds a lot of good for me. Good, that I hope will make me useful to others as well. Nothing as bad as being a waste of oxygen.

5. Determined to fit into a bikini this summer and have been working on it. I hurt all over and it is so not easy to loose all the weight you have gained systematically over five years.

Getting through the day

image from here
Everyday is a constant challenge to operate from a higher state of consciousness. Not once, twice or even three times I am unsettled by something and I have to consciously tell myself that it is all an illusion and that it will be okay; that the situation is nothing that I cannot control and master. Luckily, I have spiritual exercises at my disposal to help keep me centered and maintain focus on spiritual goals.

Sometimes things happen and my first reaction is to lash out. A few minutes later, I replay the scene and cringe because I could so much have handled the situation better. The less emotionally attached I get about things, I think, the clearer the purpose of the situation will be.

I find it interesting as I begin to take charge of my own life that these issues are coming up now. I guess Holy Spirit is in its way preparing me for the kinds of situations that are bound to arise as I embark upon the path that I have chosen. Better now, when there is room for learning from mistakes and when the consequences are not as dire than in the future when it is not just you but everyone associated with you that will be at stake.

With that in mind, I am going to try and practice some silence and quiet contemplation. Time to simply listen and not speak. Not over think...cos the mind is not always good. Just let it all be and let it all go

That's what I am doing to get through the day

Lexus VCAM Submission...you can view it now

Last month, I entered a contest for the Lexus VCAM challenge on Current TV. My team did not win but we were one of the twenty two finalists out of over a hundred submissions. Here is our submission. Please view it, vote and comment on the site or here if that is better....

When you make a mistake...

Every once in a while, I make a judgement call blunder and run around frantic and a bit panicked to try and resolvethe situation. The repercussions are always so dire that the alternative to just "chest" the situation and move on is too painful a thought. I have surrendered the situation to the Holy Spirit, inviting my Inner Master/ Guide to take control and help me resolve the situation before it escalates beyond what it is now.

I am trying really hard not to panic or inflate the scenario because the person who is holding me to ransome is holding all the cards and I would rather not not get legal or dramatic over the whole situation. I have also accepted that I made a huge mistake entrusting my project to someone I barely knew because I was trying to cut costs.

This is one of the things you have to be careful about when you are a filmmaker/producer on a very limited budget: Don't in a bid to save money do something stupid like leave HD footage of an interview you shot on location with a DP you met through Craigslist and who lives in another city when he will not pick up your calls or respond only in texts hours/days after you initially sent them.

Without my footage, I have nothing to show for a trip taken on borrowed/credit funds and I think he knows this and is banking on frustrating me into waiting until he is good and ready to do what he said he would do. I don't blame him, I blame me because had I not given him the upper hand, I would not be in this mess...

Still, I have given him till tomorrow to make things right. I have told him to put my hard drive with my footage in a box, FEDEX bound for DC from Houston since Saturday to arrive latest by tomorrow evening. I have left enough messages both voicemail, email and text for him not to pretend that there has been no communication between us--and if he says he did not get anyone of them, he has to change his provider because clearly there was no problem with him getting my messages in the beginning when I was to pay for the initial part of the service provided.

I have also prayed, inviting God to intervene because I don't want anymore drama. I know I will get my footage, the question is when? The longer I wait, the less material I have finished produced.

So, let me serve as a lesson to anyone out there:

1. Don't entrust anyone with originals of your creative work.

2. Always work away from a project with all the material that belong to you

3. If you need to collaborate with someone, go prepared, do what you agree to do and then leave with what you came with

4. Accept responsibility for any and all decisions you take

5. Expect the same amount of professionalism that you bring to the table

6. Don't incite confrontation but also don't be afraid to get tough. Cover your bases as much as possible.

7. It will blow over and you will look back in wonder.

Such has been the drama of my past two weeks...

Vlogging Nigeria

Does anyone know of any Nigerian/African vloggers? or Video Bloggers?

And links to their channels?

Thanks

My little big weekend

In pursuit of my film career, I went to Houston this weekend to shoot a small short; a place I had never been and was in danger in navigating alone as the only two friends that I had resident in the city, had plans to enjoy the Valentine's day weekend with their significant others; something I had overlooked as it had not applied to me in the longest time, if not never.

My weekend started early on Friday when I missed my connecting flight to Houston by a little under ten minutes. I was told I could no longer the board the plane. My aunt and I then went for a round of "Do-you-have-any-flights-to-Houston-no-we-don't" or "yes-we-do-for-like-next-year-and-for-a-one-way-trip-of-$600.00-and-$1200.00-for-the-return" from airline to airline. We found one for the next morning at 8 am at BWI International which meant that I had to be picked up by the airport shuttle at 4am.

The shuttle shows up at 5.45 am full of some very pissed of passengers who had apparently also been told that they would be picked up at 4 am for their 6.15 am flights. Now, for those who are not aware, the DC/MD/VA area had been blanketed by snow for over a week and almost all the roads were either impassable or quite dangerous to do so. The driver, probably stressed out of his mind proceeded to attempt to turn the blue van into a space shuttle and levitate the automobile by sheer effort of speed. I prayed to the airport man, gripping the seat infront of me and the poor guy seating to my right. If you are out there, kind sir, I am very sorry for the welts in your arm. I am sure, they will subside with ice.

After, I happily climbed out of the van, and dropped a kiss of gratitude on the wet pavement, I ran to catch my flight and then spent the next two hours watching a mother chase her toddler around the waiting room because, surprise, the flight was delayed. They started with the first lie that they were working on a "technical problem". I was buying that too. telling one particular cranky co-passenger, that I am sure he would prefer it not to happen that the wings of the plane fall off over some other eastern state and he had to climb out to fix it. Only for the yeye crew to show up like an hour later, indicating to me that they were never on the plane in the first place to even discover any "technical problems". If there had been any technical problems, it was with their malfunctioning wristwatches and alarm clocks. Msstssthw!!!!

Landed in Houston o and to get to my location, I had to rent a car. *Cue ominous background music* Those who know me, know I don't drive. I don't like to, I don't have a car and mostly don't have to. So, I need you to take a moment to visualise me on the Houston freeway, in a rental car, praying at the top of my lungs, my bladder threaten to give way and reduce my brideprice, my palms sweating so much, the liquid was pooling on my laps and me so terrified, it took a good thirty minutes after parking the car at my destination for me to stop shaking...

The shoot turned out amazing, I had fun and met some interesting people. I was also able to still connect with an old classmate and we nearly broke our ribs laughing our asses off at a movie theater, which I was astonished to find had restaurant style seating for the movie goers...talk about spoiled.

God loves me o...no doubt because he took me there, and brought me back. That was an alarming experience but a good one sha...my license was finally put to work and I neither caused any accidents, got into one or got a ticket. Yippee!!!!

So, I am off to the editing suite to get my piece ready for an upload...how was your weekend?

Since I last saw you

I attended a free screening of Nollywood Babylon at the National Museum for African Art where the Canadian director Ben Addelman presented a most insightful documentary film on the neurotic Nigerian film industry. Outside the venue, white teens begged for signatures for their campaign against Chevron, the event's official sponsor, for their actions in the Niger Delta region of the country. There were no Nigerians in the group, shivering in the cold and profering small postcards for the signatures they believed would illustrate a "public outcry". I signed one, marveled at the irony of the situation and went in to meet with the director.


Stumbled across this post on Solomonsydelle's blog and nearly had a coronary. In her recent installment of Talk To The Easier Crew, an open forum where individuals share their personal turmoils and invite advice and suggestions from commenters, we are presented with the story of a lady who walks in on her father sexually assaulting the hired help who is all of thirteen years old. Neither the father nor the victim see the lady and she runs off to her room, now claiming to be confused because she now does not know what to do. I say, she should have removed the little girl from the situation first.
Sexual abuse is so much a sordid part of our culture and I don't know what to do change this. What can we do to end sexual abuse within our society?

The snow has come to the DMV and in record amounts. We had a power outage in our development and everyone- and I mean everyone- fled because one of the downsides of a society where electricity runs 24/7 is that should that electricity fail, everything fails along with it. I would have been fine to feel my way around by candle light--something that we quite mastered in the Catwalq household where we don't have a generator-- but without heat in freezing temperature, it was impossible...and so, we joined the mass exodus, seeking solace and warmth with family friends whose power supply had thankfully been unaffected. We have since returned, waiting with bated breath for the forecasted blizzard about to blanket the region...

Contemplating buying the Brazillian butt lift system. The women in the ad look hot and there's this bikini that I have been eyeing and this beach that I am about to set on fire, this July...who is with me?

Been developing quite a few projects and soon, you guys will be enjoying them for the summer...

Please view and vote for my ad submission here

I am addicted to.....

My first kiss

I had my first kiss today.

It was cold and tasted of Fan Yogo.

It happened under the bele-ball tree behind our house.

He said, "everyone says you are my girl friend so I am going to kiss you, okay"

So I said yes.

Mummy said that your first kiss makes you tingly.

All I could feel were the ants climbing over my slippers and trying to run up my leg.

I tried to shake them off and kicked him.

He yelped and pushed me.

I fell hard on my bum.

It hurt.

So I cried.

He came and "begged" me.

Rubbing my head this way and that.

When I did not stop, he put his arm around me and sat on the leaves beside me.

The ants climbed all over him but he did not care.

Then, he bent his head and kissed me.

I stopped crying.

Then he gave me the rest of his Fan Yogo.

It had almost all melted.

Then he pulled me up and we played catcher-catcher all afternoon.

It was the best day ever.

Riding with Tamara

Two nights ago, while making my daily return home after work, I looked up from reading my very engrossing copy of author Ha Jin's "A Free Life", to realise that I was seated across the aisle from Tamara Tunie, the actress who plays the ME on Law & Order's Special Victims Unit (SVU).

There she was, sitting quite like any ordinary commuter, engrossed in conversation with her partner while I, tried not to break my neck from staring too long. Thankfully, she got off at my stop and I conered her, possibly freaking the poor woman out, for an autograph which she gave quite gracefully.
As I rode home, my autograph safely inscribed on to a page in my novel, as I had no other befitting material to produce for her to sign, I thought over the simple miracle that it was that she had ridden the metro. No, she might not be considered an A-lister but she could very well pay off all my bills without blinking and there she was, riding the same train as I.

It brought back to mind a conversation I had had with a blogger a while back on why I believed the social infrastructure in my country was not good. It was because, in my opinion, those who were responsible for its establishment and maintenance did not use it. It is only in Nigeria that the assistant to an assistant's assistant wants a chaffeur driven car and in most cases demands it.

Here, in DC, I ride the metro with Senators, teachers, bus drivers, students, tourists, children, thieves, fashion moguls, home makers and anyone else that needs to get around. No, the system is not perfect but compared to what is in my own country, it is beautiful. When something goes wrong, the backlash is heard from every level and what's more, it is acknowledged. Nigerian public transportation is the way it is because none of the commissioners use it.

When the board of directors for America's GM appeared before Senate early last year begging for a bailout, they were harshly criticised for having flown into DC on private planes and corporate jets. I am not sure if they did get what they were asking for when after being asked their mode of transportation into the city and their response was the above. In Nigeria, they would have arrived not only by private jets but in a loud and obnoxious convoy of overweight, barely intelligent entourages to collect money that would not be used in any way for what it was being requested for.

My dream is to be able to return to my home in Nigeria after a day's work at the studio, either riding my cream coloured moped or my bicycle with its rattan basket on the front; to be able to go walking or running in a park near my house and where necessary to show up at a location in Enugu, after a four/five hour train ride through the country from Lagos. I want to be able to catch the metro at Oshodi, and ride to the airport with my one overnight suitcase; to be able to drop my children of at the metro so they can ride to school too and pick them off in the evening when they are done. I don't need an SUV to carry me around because the public transportation would be comfortable, convenient and affordable. If I have a car, it will be a small one, for those days when I want to go exploring the city or when I have alot to carry around?

Is this too much to dream?

Well, riding with Tamara Tunie sure made me do so....

Help me in demanding that Yanni come to the MD/DC/VA area

View all Washington DC events on Eventful

Silent Scandal

What do you need if you are an accomplished and successful, female entrepreneur aspiring for a senatorial seat and a stake in politics? Well, according to Nigeria's yet to be published political etiquette manifesto, a husband if you are unmarried. It's not about whether or not you are experienced and capable to lead and execute the duties of your position; it's about the prefix to your name. That is just one of the many issues complicating Jessica Obi's life.

Her daughter is on a path to self destruction, she cannot seem to hold down a relationship, her coworkers and employees fear her rather than respect her and her driver has the guts to berate her on her personal life choices? What's a girl to do?

Well, this one makes a rash decision that plunges everyone around her into a complicated hot bed of scandal and is producer Vivian Ejike's latest offering from the editing suites of Purple Pine Productions. A nice upgrade from some of the watery fare, I have had to stomach in recent months, I am giving this movie my Catwalq nod of approval and recommending you go see it and tell me if you concur or not.

Yes, it has some technical hitches and some of the performances are quite unpolished, plus I found it hard to believe Genevieve as a mother of a nineteen year old (which I think I heard somewhere is not that far removed from the truth); however, it was very well done.

What did you think?

Happy Holidays

Prepare to greet a wonderful new year

SKIN

How do you define race? Is it by the colour of your skin, lineage or choice? Is it the shape of your nose or the colour of your gums? or is it by whether if stuck in your hair, and you shake your head, a pencil drops? Or if your backside potrudes a certain way? The answers to some of these were the deciding factors for whether, distinctively darker skinned Sandie Laing (played by Sophie Okonedo) would be classified the same as her white parents in heavily segregated Southern Africa of the fifties and sixties in the currently playing select theatre release SKIN

The stellar cast including Sam Neil, Alice Krige, Tony Kgoroge and the young Ella Ramangwane help present a true story that is both heartbreaking and enlightening. The movie presents a simple story of the complexities of human identities and how much discrimination and labelling damages souls.

In one painful scene, little Sandie in an attempt to be more white and thus, solve the racial problems reaping her family apart, applies undiluted industrial bleach to her skin. My heart broke in so many ways and it was like my own skin was on fire.

Go see it. It will afford you if anything, a chance to discuss identities. The issue the movie presents can be translated into every culture, for there is nowhere where the issue of skin colour, ethnicity/tribalism does not occur. The wars being fought now have this as their basis.

Go see it and come tell me, what is the colour of your skin? and what does that make you?

The mop

Wounded by the worded sword

picture from here

In keeping with my increased infatuation with my Asian film heart throbs, I went in search of found one Korea's many soaps "Full House" (2004). Starring megastar Rain and the talented Song Hye Kyo in the male and female leads, the romantic comedy follows the lives of two people forced to cohabitate due to unforseen circumstances.

Ten minutes into the show, I was hooked and I quickly settled down to enjoy what is to be a 16 episode instalment. As an aspiring filmmaker, I noted in addition to the engaging and thoroughly executed plot, techniques that maximised the fact that it was shot on digital video and not on 35mm like the shows in the West. I could not help comparing to the offerings produced in my own country and it was very clear that ours fell short. There was something, however that stuck out like a sore thumb, rearing its head, every couple minutes or so to prevent me from really falling in love with the story.

Lee Yeung Jae, played by Rain who can curently be seen flexing his insane body on the theatre screens in the just-released Ninja Assasin--review to come later--marries Han Jye Yon (Song Hye Kyo) in a contract of convenience with the end result being that she would be able to get the house she was duped out of by two bumpling fools she called best friends, who then went on to sell the house to him. In keeping with the basic tradition of boy-meets-girl-boy-does-not-like-girl-they-fight-live-together-and-fall-in-love, the two are at each other's throats like cats and dogs; more like cat and mouse as the female lead, is sweet, optimistic, friendly and open while the male lead, in trying to be reserved and aloof comes across as highly disrespectful.

My particular bone of contention is the way he constantly berates and insults her intelligence. He is never polite and is so rude that even when he does something nice, you the audience has still not forgiven him for the verbal assault he launched on her all but two minutes prior. What is more amazing to me is that in ninety percent of the online reviews for this drama series, this is not even noted or mentioned which causes me to think that this kind of emotional and verbal abuse is acceptable in Korean society as well as others.

I am sure people will say, "Look at her, she lives in a lovely home, married to a rich guy" but what no one sees is the denigration and the put downs. What is even so hurtful is that each time, she dusts herself off and moves on sweetly, making you wish you could reach through the screen and wring his pretty little neck.

I know my words and I know when to use them. If every time you say something, it is an insult, you should keep your mouth short. And for those spouses, male and female who can see no good in their partners, words are the most damaging assualt weapons you can use. They are so strong as to kill the one upon who they are afflicted before they are physically touched and it is my understanding that in most situations where there is physical abuse, the verbal abuse started way before that.

Clearly the writers of the show believed it was okay for the character to sound that way and judging by the revenues realised, syndication contracts and fan response, it seems so did many other people. And that makes me very, very sad.

Sunday evening...

There is only so much you can say when you cannot do all you wish you can. As long as the bulk of your actions are contingent upon the decisions another person makes, you are stuck living your life as a passenger, rather than as the driver of your own destiny.

Everyday, it is a constant battle for me to erase resentment from my heart. It is selfish to think of all things from my point of comfort as situations could be so much worse otherwise; or would they? Still, I am very much aware that certain individuals and experiences would be avoided if I was where I want to be instead of where I have to be right now.

It is still an an enviable life for some. So many would trade places at the drop of a heart; oblivious they are to the realities of the situation. Or maybe, the realities are their ideals whereas for me, they are a constant inconvenience.

I remain grateful. I remain happy. I remain confident that my time is now and continously. I remain....love

In the papers...

Found this in my daily paper
Wei Zheng was a cabinet-level official during the imperial reign of China’s Tang Dynasty. One day, when he was about to take a nap, two low-level officials held a discussion outside his window. One official commented, “Our promotions depend on this old felloe [Wei Zheng].”
The other disagreed and said: “It is not so. The heavens decide such things.”
After over hearing this conversation, Wei Zheng decided to write a letter to the Office of Personnel Management. He asked the man who had called him an “old fellow” to deliver this letter. The man had no idea that the letter which stated “promote this individual”, was about him.
Upon leaving his administrative office building to deliver this letter, the man experienced stomach pain. Therefore, he asked his colleague, to whom he had spoken outside Wei’s window, to help deliver the letter instead.
The next day, the Office of Personnel Management made a public announcement that the man who believed in the will of the heavens would be promoted. Upon hearing this, Wei became confused and asked both men what had happened. Once he learned that the letter had been delivered by the wrong person, he sighed deeply and said “it appears to be true—even one’s career is determined by the heavens!”

When I read this on the metro today, it struck a chord in me. Like everything else I read, I applied it to scenarios that I am familiar with—thus, putting it in a Nigerian setting—and I saw so many parallels. There are so many people who feel that things that are their due are not happening to them. They expect things to fall into their laps without much effoft on their part. The average Nigerian has the consciousness where someone else is responsible for their happiness and advancement and that all they have to do is pray and all will work out or even worse, they try to cheat the system and then pray that it works out.I don't understand it. In this story, I not only see that the gain was dependent on the heavens but that the heavens rewarded the service. The second soldier performed the task and got the promotion.

The arguement can be made that the first man had no choice when he fell ill and you may be right. But his attitude was never that he would be rewarded for his work but that possibly, he had to cosy up to the old man for his promotion...that's how I saw it, anyway.

How about you?

Something I heard this morning

Today on the radio, I heard a story on the Kane Show that just amazed me: A guy met this girl through an online dating service for Jewish singles and they met for a date. At the end of the date, the girl offered to pay for her own part of the meal to which the guy declined offering instead the option that he pay for the first date and she pay for the second. Date is over, they part and two weeks later, the girl has not called (even though, it is not that clear who said they would call whom) and what does the guy do? He threatens to sue the girl and go over her head to her boss and garnish her wages for her to return the $50.00!!!!!! that he spent on her meal. He has involed American express and the diner where they ate and left messages on her phone and in her email inbox.

Now, she responds to the initial email saying that she had intended to call but had been out of town and that now that he had turned this into something ugly, she wanted no more correspondence with him. The woman struck me from all her responses (written) to be calm, self assured and in control of her life and not someone to be easily bullied by an irate baby unable to deal with rejection.

My issues:
1. Is he not aware that amount of money that it will cost him to fight this in court--where he will most likely loose and end up an even bigger shmuck than he is--will me much, much, much more than $50.00?

2. Like a caller into the show asked, if he so badly wanted to go on the second date, why did he not call her and ask her out?

3. Is rejection now too much to handle? What about those who could not even get a first date? This is not the first time I am seeing something like this. Granted the first time was on a TV show but it got me thinking, do some people think that people they ask out are obligated to like you or want to spend time with you?

4. Is $50.00 too much to spend on a girl? or a boy?

5. What is the protocol for naija dating?

Tell me what you think and what you heard...

Hey Cattie, where have you been?

1. To Minneapolis to see my fellow Eckists. Hello peeps, it is the Year of Creativity, a new spiritual year and a time for us to shake up our lives with the gift of our creative minds...who's with me? I plan to enjoy this year as much as possible. In fact, I have officially declared Catwalq Dating Season open.

2. Moved away from my base temporarily and I am in the township that public transportation forgot. But that is only temporary because I will be back in my mojo as soon as possible. Things are already looking up.

3. Have a couple projects up my sleeve...can't wait.

4. Have to fix my template because in my quest for a new identity, me thinks I deleted some of the information and now i have to go input it once more...i don tire o


5. So what have you all been up to?

Kitchen Prep

Momentarily stunned, I just stood there caught between trying to revive my brain to action and fleeing the scene. You tell yourself over and over what you will do should you find yourself in the situation; how you would react or perhaps how not to but nothing at all prepares you for the site of your naked husband's limbs intertwined with those of someone whom you have for the past couple of years called friend. The air stank with the odor of their spent selves and their breathing was laboured. Had I been a few seconds earlier, I would have witnessed their joint release.

His face would have been contorted like with a pain and he would have clutched at her hair as his body jerked involuntarily. I don't know what she would have looked like and that was a blessing. I was sickened as it was. Somehow, I turned around slowly and made my way silently downstairs. They had not seen me. Their whispers and giggles echoed through the quiet house and through my already tired brain. I was immediately greatful that my mother had decided to take her grandsons with her for evening service. They adored her and she fawned over them. Her over indulgence had always irked me but at that moment, I was never more greatful for the fact that my son had not come home with me because had that been the case, I would have asked him to climb the stairs to get me my scarf.

I sank slowly into the couch and held my head in my hands. My marriage was over. I would never forgive this. I don't care what other people say. I was never built to share. What was more crippling was that I was not even angry that they were in bed together, just that I had seen them and that vision had put an end to my evening. I lay back and rested my head, wondering what to next.

Then , I remembered that I had brought in meat with me. I had a sudden craving for vegetable stew. So I went to the kitchen and began to cook. All the time, I washed the meat, they had no idea I was in the house. It was the sound of the blender that brought a screeching halt to their now very audible antics; the rhythm of the creaking bed frame drumming in the ceiling above my head.

When he walked into the kitchen, he had the sheets wrapped around his waist, his face a mixture of shock, fear and others I was not in the mood to decipher. He halted at the door, staring at me. I turned away to pour the pepper mixture on the fire, smiling when it hit the heated oil with a loud hiss. There was a sound from the corner of my eye. I knew it was Aliya. She must have come to see what was happening. Her small shriek made me burst out laughing. I heard her hurry away, most likely to gather her clothing and make her escape. The bitch was so stupid sometimes.

"Food will be ready in about forty five minutes. Do you want eba or semo?" I asked of the two without looking up, trying to control my laughter. The father of my children and husband of twelve years stared at me like I was crazy.

Maybe I was.

"Sola..."he began.

"If you are not hungry, " I cut him off, "I suggest you disappear with her because there won't be enough time for me to get rid of both your bodies before the kids get here. You know I have a gun in this house."

He stared. I returned to my frying pepper. It was beginning to splatter under the intense heat. I heard him move away. He was not going to fight me now but he would be back.

Till then I wondered if I should add locust beans or just go with stock fish only.

25

picture from here
I am a quarter of a century old today....

Once and Always...or just that once

One of the greatest gifts I have ever considered myself fortunate to have been given is that of books. From when I was little, I was surrounded by them and encouraged to expand my knowledge beyond that which my parents could afford to give me by reading that which others had put down on paper. I was also encouraged to write and for the most part, alot of what I had to put down was greatly influenced by what I had read.


I read them all, from Chinua Achebe to authors whose names I cannot remember but whose stories stuck with me. Through books, I could leave any problems I had behind and move on to another world. As a child, I devoured Enid Blyton books with such speed that I am sure my parents were a little bit stumped because that meant that they had to go buy me new books. And books were not cheap. At least, not alot of them.


As a pre-teen, I gravitated to romance novels with much gusto. This was partly because I was forbidden to read them and partly because I had out grown my childhood novels and wanted more. It was not enough for me to read about a wishing chair or a tree with a spinning top that took you to faraway lands, or a boy called Eze who was apparently always going to school. I needed more, and then walked into my life the works of many faceless writes under the Mills & Boon banner and Harlequinn Romances. I also discovered historical romances and learned alot about a part of British history through the lives of its royalty and its aspiring ton.


It was around that time that I discovered Judith Mcnaught and Sandra Brown. One of my favourite novels of the former is Once and Always. I heard about the book before I read it. In a class with avid readers by myself, this novel must have regretted being carried through the classroom door. By the time I booked a turn and it got round to me, the book had been split into six parts so that one could read the portions at different times. This was necessary because some girls, bless their hearts, were so slow, there was the temptation to deliver a well placed blow to the side of their heads with the hopes that their eyes and brain would spring to action and expedite their reading. But they were not to be rushed and so the only thing to do was rip the book apart and read that way.

When I moved to the US, I thought I had died and gone to heaven the first time I walked into a Barnes & Noble. My solitude being a secret answer to the fact that even though I socialise well within crowds, I don't like to seek gatherings out or be sought out by them either. So, I read and Barnes & Nobles was an addiction. You could sit in it and read the book without buying though I would not try that now, with the recession and all.



Anyways, I found a brand new copy of Once and Always and rushed to buy it. After having been responsible for the murder of one copy whilst in school, I thought it only fitting that I purchase a copy in honour of the wonderful story that it was and as a form of atonement. The novel was about two young people who have been through so much hurt and pain, come together through coercion to find that they could help each other experience the beauty of love for the rest of their experiences. It was beautiful when I read it and my friends and I memorised some of the scenes to renact and retell to those amongst us who appeared to be allergic to anything that was not made a compulsory read by the curriculum.

I ran home that day, excited out of my mind. Oh, if only my girls were here to see what I had in my hand. To reminisce on those days when we were girls with what we thought were deep issues but what seemed trivial now that we were all in the struggle to build our futures. I hurriedly changed, made a plate of snacks, a drink and settled beneath my cocoon of duvets to read.



It's hard for me to describe what happened next. First, I finished the book in less than three hours, trudging through the plot. It was as if I had to slow my thoughts down to read it. The book was well, cute. It was no longer inspiring. It was no longer breathtaking. Infact, some scenes were now too incredible. I just wanted to grab the heads of some of the characters and smash them together, the way parents sometimes do when siblings are fighting. Long and short, I was bored. I was bored because I was no longer wide eyed and innocent. The realisation was both interesting and melancholy.



The same thing happened yesterday when I bought a combined book of three of Sandra Brown's early works. My first book of hers was about this woman whose identity was mistaken after a fatal plane crash. I almost came to blows over that book--story for another day--and Sandra was cemented in my heart from that day onwards.



I am almost through with the first story---Thank God---and the only reason I am reading it is because the money I bought it with was not stolen, it was earned. So, by all things I hold dear, I will labour through and finish it. I am at the point where I am almost tempted to write to the author and ask her if she is aware that her leading male is borderline on sexual harassment. And the fool has a moustache. Sacrilege! Facial hair on a fantasy male is a no-no....sigh, I guess I should be glad that I am older now.



Cos Once & Always is no longer so.

Pregnant with ideas

This blog needs a rebirth....whatever that means. I am getting increasingly bored with it and the Nigerian blogosphere. Maybe I need to branch out beyond Nigerians and go courting other people because it is not like I am not aware of the world outside my circle....

Eki's Famous

"When I make my jewelry, I'm motivated by friends and family, who tell me their stories, and what happened to them throughout the day," says Eki. "I love to create unique pieces that identify with people's individuality."


Ekiuwa (pronounced "Eh-Key-Wa") Asemota, born of parents from Nigeria and the Dominican Republic, started designing her own clothes and jewelry at an early age. Influenced by fashion trends from Africa, Latin America, the Caribbean and New York, Ekiuwa has a distinctive style mixed with American trends that always stands out amongst her peers.

Eki's pieces are created from alterations of other pieces. The fabrics used include lace, denim, brocade, beads of all kinds, leather, linen and vintage clothing patterns. Her style can be defined as Street yet Urban Couture.

With Eki's Famous Jewelry, anyone can find a piece they like-----one that fits their famous style!