THE year was 2001, month of june. I was in SS3 reading for my WAEC. I was at home reading a newspaper [the Nigerian Tribune] when i came across an essay competition organised by the civil liberties organisation for senior secondary students […]
THE year was 2001, month of june. I was in SS3 reading for my WAEC. I was at home reading a newspaper [the Nigerian Tribune] when i came across an essay competition organised by the civil liberties organisation for senior secondary students and university undergrads. i got really interested. It was a theme on Child Labour. The topic was ‘The Implication of Child Labour for the development of the child’. A ten page essay to be written, typed in double space and sent to the address. I didn’t really have access to the internet as at then so i could not go to google it out. I had to rely on my lexicon, imaginations and events around me. To cut a long story short, i abandoned my school books for a while and focused on this essay writing. I wrote it in my own handwriting but had to type it. Since i didn’t have a computer, i told my mum and she directed me to the post office where i met a woman who agreed to type it for me on her typewriter at ten or twenty naira per page(cant really remember the exact amount now). I had to keep looking at every interval for typing errors and omissions. she had a small baby and at some points would have to pause to breastfeed the baby. After about three hours, i was through. But it was just seven pages instead of the ten pages. I bought an envelope(was it white or the brown one?) where i folded it in, sealed with my saliva, bought a postage stamp(twenty naira?),then posted it.
Then i forgot about it and started my examination in full gear. I think the first paper was even English(am i sure?). WAEC came and went and i was home waiting for the result. The result came out and was good. Still i didn’t hear anything about the essay competition. I was still reading my newspaper, checking for it but never saw anything like it.
One day, i was outside writing a poem when my neighbour who lectures in Adeyemi College of Education arrived home for the weekend. I greeted him and helped him with the load he was carrying. All of a sudden, he stopped and said ‘is your surname not olasiyan?’
I said ‘yes it is, sir’
You participated in an essay competition and i saw your name in the newspaper. Come and see me later so that i can give the paper to you.
I was dumbfounded. Behold when i got the paper, it was Punch. So the result didn’t come out in tribune and i was searching Tribune ever since. I started flipping through the pages. Gbam! It was there. I saw a lot of names with the university students names first then Senior Secondary Schools according to their geo-political zones.
Whoa! I couldn’t believe my eye; 1st prize southwest zone of Nigeria.
Award Ceremony at Muson Centre, Onikan, Lagos.
The date was October 27&28, 2001. An invitation letter was said to have been to my school but i didn’t get it because i was already out at the time. Off i went with my dad to Lagos CLO office at Allen Avenue on the 27th.
There was a short introductory cum interactive session and then we were served lunch and moved to a hotel and our parents were asked to go home. I shared a room with a beautiful little lady at the time (probably she’s married now?) we were very comfortable, placed order for food, had a teevee to ourselves with a nice bed. The next day was the d-day by 4.00pm at Muson Centre. We woke up excited, bathed and had breakfast of bread, egg and tea. My parents came in the morning (my dad had gone back home the previous day). They thought the event was going to hold in the morning, unfortunately, they could not wait so they travelled back home. By 3’o clock we were driven to Marina. Then, the real experience began. I saw a reporter from punch newspaper who gave me her card and said i could be contributing to her page. Then, i saw Chief Gani Fawehinmi(now late) in white lace agbada exchanging pleasantries with everyone. So this is the legendary Gani Fawehinmi,senior advocate of the masses, the Lagos fiery lawyer(i mused to myself).
That was my first and last encounter with him before death came calling in September,2009. I miss his presence in Nigerian politics. We took pictures together, then everyone went inside and i saw more dignitaries.
Ayo Obe, president Civil Liberties Organization
Olisa Agbakoba, Senior Advocate of Nigeria
The Norwegian Ambasssador to Nigeria
Representative of the then Governor and deputy Governor of Lagos, Bola Ahmed Tinubu and Kofoworola Bucknor Akerele
Television stations gave it live coverage; MITV,AIT,NTA
Newspapers came; PUNCH……
It was all successful
I received my first prize of an award certificate, a plaque and a cheque of fifty thousand naira only.
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IN THE DEEP DARK SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT In the dim dull darkness of the night I yearn for the closeness of my knight Oh no! He’s not yet back at nine I’ll keep a lily for my love I’ll sing […]
IN THE DEEP DARK SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT
In the dim dull darkness of the night
I yearn for the closeness of my knight
Oh no! He’s not yet back at nine
I’ll keep a lily for my love
I’ll sing a lullaby for my love
I’ll wax a lyric for my love
Then I listen to the lilting voice
As I lie on the lowly lilo
And I’m lost to the smoky flaming embers
Here comes my beloved
Here enters my love
My knight arrives in shining armor
My love arrives in sheering splendor
My light arises in glittering glitters
My love increases in leaping bounds
I’ll buy a lotion for my love
I’ll bring a linen for my love
In the stillness of the night
In the coldness of the night
I lie under the moonlight
In the warm embrace of my knight
In the dog days of summer
In the dull days of winter
In the dreary days of spring
In the dark days of autumn
I enjoy the lilting voice
As I lie on the lowly Lilo
And am lost to the smoky flaming embers
someone said ”The wedding ring is the smallest handcuff ever made. Don’t be in a hurry to wear one.” do you think so? let’s share ideas
I wake up in the morning with a foggy vision, trying to glance around my room. When I look to the left to see the bed where she normally lay, she’s still sound asleep, snoring very loudly with her legs raised up […]
I wake up in the morning with a foggy vision, trying to glance around my room. When I look to the left to see the bed where she normally lay, she’s still sound asleep, snoring very loudly with her legs raised up and crossed together in an unladylike manner. Her covering cloth is on another side of the bed and she is stark naked. That is how she sleeps.
I stand up and brush my teeth, take my bath and put my food on the stove to boil; I have decided to eat rice this morning with the little stew I made yesterday. As I bring the stew to warm on the stove, then she wakes up. She stands up immediately, take a tissue and enter the toilet. We actually live in a self-contained apartment with a toilet, kitchen and bathroom en suite. She comes out again. She doesn’t say good morning to me. She picks a bucket, goes to the well to fetch water. I bring my food to the table, eat it in silence then, I pick my bag and go out for the day’s lecture.
At times, I don’t seem to understand her at all. She walks in a way that her foot barely touches the ground. She pushes her neck forward and walks very fast; too fast for a lady. She has no care in the world, after eating; she places her head on the pillow and begins to look. Whether she’s daydreaming or barely looking at me, I do not know. At other times, she can go out throughout the whole day and return only late at night.
She is tall and graceful with a long neck and a pretty face. She has a dark and natural skin, not too thin and not too fat. I wish I know the thoughts that go on in her brain so I can help her but I don’t have the foggiest idea so I don’t give it a try.
He lives in the next block of flats. He is dark and of middle height. He is not too attractive but has a kind mien. He frowns his face very early in the morning but when he smiles, he looks like a gentleman. I go to tell him about the rats invading my room and encroaching on my privacy. He promises to be of help with a promise to look in the next day but I notice a certain twinkle in his eyes each time he talks to me.
to be continued……….
continued from last week
What he is up to, I sure do not know. He manages the two blocks of the female hostel plus the water factory. I actually know next to nothing about him. He collects my mobile line with the promise to call me the next day, Sunday.
Am in church. We‘ve finished the service but I have to wait to count the offering among other important things. Then my phone starts to vibrate. Who is calling me on a Sunday afternoon .i pick the call and I hear a male voice.
‘Hello, this is manager. Are u home?’
Oh! I‘ll be on my way right away’
I quickly tidy up and I go to the hostel. My roommate is not yet back from holiday.
I go to his office to inform him that am around and he promise to be there in few minutes
I go inside patiently to wait for him. He knocks later and I open. He is with a friend, very tall guy.
They both enter the room and begin to move my things out. i tell them I see it in the kitchen. They bring out everything in the kitchen then the rat runs out and enter the bathroom. They run after it but it enter a hole in the bathroom. So he mixes cement and seal off the place so that the rat will not come out again.’ That is where it will die’, he tells me.
Them they arrange my things for me and he even sweep the cement away. I thank them profusely and they leave.
I heave a sign of relief. At last, I can sleep in peace.
THE NEXT MORNING
I am on my way to class for lecture, I see him at the gate and he asks if I noticed the rat again and I say no. I actually admire him for this feat because rats are my greatest enemy. It’s just as if he helped me to conquer my enemy .my fears are gone so he is my hero. Actually I once reported a problem to him about the drainage problem in my room and he called a plumber and paid.
Subsequently, he will ask me if I cooked and I will say no because am not in the habit of cooking for guys. He comes to my room to borrow newspaper, I give him and we chat for a while. He tells me that he enjoys talking with me and doesn’t always feel like leaving my room again. He tells me about his ex girlfriend ,how she left and he has to call it quit. Several calls come in on his phone while we are talking and he talks to them (ladies) in a casual manner. Is it because I am there? Well, only time will tell.
Watch out for the next episode on Monday
I am a writer and a poet. A lover of arts and culture..
This blog will feature write-ups cutting across different topics as it applies to everyday living. This page promises to be interesting, captivating and highly interactive. I would encourage my readers to post their comments/feedbacks. Reader’s suggestions and advice are also welcome. Major […]
This blog will feature write-ups cutting across different topics as it applies to everyday living. This page promises to be interesting, captivating and highly interactive. I would encourage my readers to post their comments/feedbacks. Reader’s suggestions and advice are also welcome. Major posts will be added every Monday. Other posts could be added anytime during the week. So sit back and enjoy!
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