I think I’ve been prepared all my life for talkshows. I’ve been prepared all my life to be a radio show host even though it hasn’t yet happened. It would have happened if dad didn’t stop me because I had just finished […]
I think I’ve been prepared all my life for talkshows. I’ve been prepared all my life to be a radio show host even though it hasn’t yet happened. It would have happened if dad didn’t stop me because I had just finished secondary school when I got my first chance with popular tv and radio presenter, Mr Gboyega Lawal at Ibadan.
I still went ahead to NTA Ogbomoso to intern freely in my spare time. It was there I entered the studio for the first time and saw how news are being delivered. The only problem with TV is the paparazzi-spending one and half hours to do make up and tie gele for a 20mins show. It has never made sense to me.
My book took me to a radio station in ibadan two years ago but it didn’t feel as if I was doing it for the first time. Why? Because my favorite programs on TV are talk shows. I somehow knew I would be on air from when I was young so I rehearsed and watched. I love TVC’s Your View and loved Mo Abudu’s Moments with Mo years ago.
…I guess it still doesn’t stop the butterflies from flying in your tummy when it eventually happens.😊
I was informed the previous night at about 9.30pm that I’d be speaking at Rhythm FM, SILVERBIRD radio via Instagram. No prior notice. Not even a preparation for the topic.
“I trust you. You can deliver. I’ve boasted that you can do it”, she said
I was supposed to be glad but I was faced with trepidation.
This person is someone I work with. She hired me to write for her. We’ve done a lot of work together. I edited her recently published book. I’ve handled her Twitter conversations on rape and gender issues using her handle. I’ve helped her hold a WhatsApp teaching class for professors, lecturers and other professionals posing as her.
I’ve handled her Instagram and Facebook pages writing stuffs on relationship and marital issues. If she’s someone you follow, I’m behind most of her posts on Facebook till now. I kind of ghostwrite for her. She’s the one always bringing this huge jeep to my gate that makes my neighbors wonder just who I am😁.
She believes in me more than I believe in myself. She’s always hyping me endlessly. She gave me the platform to moderate and speak at her event two years ago. She’s a public speaker. We’ve been to places together.
The other day, we went to Aso TV together. One day, I was at her place and Aso TV called her to appear on their show again and she said she couldn’t make it. She was about asking me to go in her stead but I rolled my eyes.
I didn’t know she’d really still go ahead and mention me another time without my knowledge. Well, she did and it was too late to say no.
I couldn’t sleep over the night. First I stayed up late to read up law issues on marital rape. I decided to bring in the angle of law based on court experience. I called lawyer friends to get their angle but none picked.
I woke up and started looking for a good angle in my house to set up my chair and table since it was an Instagram live. This was my first instalive. No one does it on a couch😁. People are fond of using their bookshelf as background. My shelf is in my bedroom facing my bed besides, I’m a rebel. I don’t like following norms or trends.
I wore a pinafore dress, looked at myself in the mirror after 20minutes and changed my mind. I removed the dress, settled for a black turtle neck top and I loved it better.
My wall is white so I settled for the entrance for lighting and visibility. There was no light. It was slated for 9am. I had my laptop in front of me. It was 8am. So I sat down watching the hands of the clock turn nine.
I connected at nine and I heard myself being introduced. I spoke with the presenter the previous night and she asked how I would like to be introduced so I sent a bio.
I couldn’t notify people on Facebook because it was already after 10pm before I spoke with the show host and I had many butterflies in my tummy that made me unsettled. I just put it up on WhatsApp status.
Again, while preparing mentally, I remembered my near rape experience and decided to chip it in. I was able to steer the conversation away from marital rape for a while.
Because to be honest, I wasn’t too comfortable speaking on that topic because when I researched, I discovered that the law is practically silent on it.
Culturally, there’s no thing called marital rape. Once a woman is married, it is culturally believed that she has given over rights to her body to her husband. Yes, marital rape is happening. It is sad but it has no legal backing yet. Only Lagos State has recognised it. Hence, my reason for hammering on the angle of law. If we are going to make it a topic, it has to be appropriately legalised or recognised.
When I tagged two lawyers to the post on Facebook, one spoke to me privately on this same submissions and decided to also shy away from publicly discussing it. They are men too😁😁if you get my drift-strong Igbo and Warri men. Wetin be marital rape? O gini?
A certain boy who was in my class in uni went to the post to talk in the nonsense and in the rubbish. But I have emotional intelligence enough to not respond to him, just because I’m not the solution to whatever marital problem he has.
A certain boy in my class also did that talking in the nonsense on my birthday post one time while trying to make a dry joke. Another colleague answered him.
I’m ashamed that I was actually in the same room with these boys for four years studying biology. Is this what spirogyra, E.Coli, Enterobacter does to people? I’m not you people’s mother. I’m not your wife. I’m not living in your house osiso. The post wasn’t even supporting anything. Ewo ni temi?
But sha, we move.
Barely one or two weeks later, she called me again in the night to inform me she gave my name to AIT and i’d have to go to the studio.
Since lockdown started, I haven’t stepped out of my area in three months not even to the office when they called me. I haven’t even seen Milord in four months.
As usual, there was no time to prepare. When I called the show host and I heard the topic, I nearly jumped. But she graciously changed the topic from why marriages fail to why relationships fail. That made me happy.
I didn’t even realize I didn’t know the road to AIT. So I called OBF 1. He clearly didn’t know it was me so he was speaking serious hausa. I cut him off and called OBF 2. He was on his way to Imo state and was driving. We couldn’t talk.
I called someone who could have been OBF 3 and he directed me to ASOKORO, very close to my former ASOKORO office. However what I didn’t know was that AIT sits majestically on a hill. I could have ordered UBER from A.Y.A bustop, Asokoro but I heard taxis calling AIT so I joined. That was my greatest undoing.
After being dropped off, I climbed the mountain abi hill sotay my legs nearly gave way. My thighs were suffering yet AIT was not in sight. Until I reached the end of the hill. It wasn’t a journey for the faint hearted.
I later recalled that Aso TV is set on the most dangerous hill I have ever seen. Even though we drove through it, I was scared in the car. I feared we would tumble down. It was a James bond move. I swore never to go with her to Aso TV again.
I also recalled that most radio or TV stations at ibadan end their jingle with “a station set on a hill”- one in Mapo another in Mokola. Now it makes sense.
AIT was heavily manned by security operatives. I had to call the show host before gaining entrance.
I still suffered the hill climbing on my way back. I looked for a cab to no avail. I was ready to pay anything. When I came down from that hill, I was in serious pain. I called someone from the office who called her husband to pick me along the way. He was coming from National Assembly where he works and waited for me at Aso drive. He was there before me. I half hopped into the car😁😁😁.
Men and brethren, this was how I went back home and didn’t walk for almost one week. After using some balm I got from our office clinic a while ago, I began to look for the balm of Gilead. No kidding, my legs were heavy and full of pain. What an experience!!!
The day I regained full use of my legs again, I danced like a war, like the lion himself, like the liquid metal.