I

(Mr Baba)

I made a sharp bend onto an open street, running as fast as my legs

could carry me. My father’s workshop was still many blocks away,
and the roads in Okaka town were wet and slippery from recent
downpours of rain. Potholes were a popular landmark at every
corner, a phenomenon that comes second only to the epileptic power
supply that plagued our little town, like most other places in lagoon
city. My father sometimes worked outside his workshop, some days
he is building a new roof for a new house, other days he is mending
an old roof for an old one. I thought about what could go wrong if he
was not there as I ran past a truck pusher, narrowly escaping a
collision. My legs were getting weaker and I could feel the pressure
on my knees. The distance from where I had been running stretched
for about five football fields, and I was being chased by a full-grown
man. A cobbler yelled "why you dey chase the small boy", it
sounded more like an accusation than question. I ran past the old
woman who roasted corn beside the Catholic Church on Main Street,
one of the busiest parts of Okaka town.

Mr Baba was sort of a relative, his father in-law raised my father.

My father lost his own father when he was very young, and his
mother who was Mr Baba's father in-law's niece took him to the old
man to for fatherly guidance. Not sure if I should refer to Mr Baba
as uncle, so I'll just stick to calling him by his name.
Mr Baba fancied himself a disciplinarian, I once witnessed him
loose his temper and his oldest son who was my age crumbled to the
ground in fear. A lot of my cousins whispered at family gatherings
about how strict Mr Baba was. He had zero tolerance for indolence
on the part of children, everyone behaved appropriately when he was
around. I avoided him at family gatherings, but when he moved into
my neighborhood with his family, I knew that a confrontation was
inevitable.

You see, Mr Baba's children rarely went out, they returned from
school and then attended to their evening classes with a tutor who
came to the house to take them on mathematics and social studies,
and even English language. Afterwards they watched television for a
few hours and then retired to bed. I on the other hand had a lot more
freedom. I would return from school and hit the streets, played
football with my friends and only returned home when I was hungry.
Television was hardly my thing as my father only had a black and
white set, when all our neighbors watched their pictures in colors.
The arrangement worked for my father as long as I returned home
before dark. I liked to think that my father let me be free so he didn't
have to become too much of a doting father as I was his only child,
he probably wanted me to experience the world by myself. Even on
the days when he would ask that I come over to the workshop after
school, that I would refuse because I didn't fancy carpentry, he
would scold me for disobeying is orders. He however understood
that I wasn't interested in his line of trade. Later on, he would put me
in evening classes so I didn't just lay about after school and on
weekends, especially weekends.

I arrived at the workshop breathless. I was panting when my father

saw me, he was sitting quietly in a corner at the back, with his tools
scattered all around him. He was probably taking a break from
making what looked like a dinning set. The table looked well
completed while the chairs needed polishing. He looked me over and
asked why I was breathing so hard; he had a serious stare on his
face. I started to narrate how I was playing football and Mr Baba,
who had warned me to no longer play in the streets ordered me to
shut it down and go home. I had refused and he had chased me all
the way.... You are probably wondering where Mr Baba was at this
point, well he was standing right behind me. I had barely said a word
when he came into the workshop, but he let me finish and also
waited for my father to speak.

I was asked to get on my knees and raise my hands as was the

practice in my days when parents sought to correct a child's
misdemeanor. Father now went on to tell Mr Baba that it was okay
for me to play with the other kids. Mr Baba said he was only
concerned that I could get injured especially since the other boys
were really older. They both exchanged greetings and father
promised I would be dealt with for being disobedient. Mr Bab left
and I was there in the corner, on my knees, for another hour. Word
was on the streets that I was as talented as any footballer in the area
and the people who watched me play were convinced; I could make
acareer in the sport. I took it that father didn't mind that, which must
be why he told Mr Baba to let me be. I stayed at the workshop
through the rest of the evening. Father took me with him to the
mosque afterwards. I couldn't escape, it was imperative that I obeyed
every instruction for the rest of that day.

I avoided the gaze of my Arabic teacher who had beaten me with a

whip the day before. He spoke to father about the need to have a
chat about my future, they agreed to talk more after prayers. Father
looked at me in a way that said 'this better not be another bad report
against you'.
The day before was a Friday and most muslims gave sadaka
(charity) on that day. There was a particular old man I remember
who would give all the children five Naira each, the money was
usually fresh from the mint. There was another man of middle age
who worked at an oil depot and gave the mosque big donations from
time to time. Rumors had it he did rituals for his money and the oil
business was a front..........The Friday in question saw a family that
was showing gratitude to Allah for the successful graduation of their
son from the community college of education, and all the Arabic
students were to enjoy a plate of rice and chicken stew. The food
was delivered on time and we were all ready to feast.

The head teacher, the mualim was expected to supervise the sharing
of the food. He, the head teacher only answered to the imam and
every other teacher or student answered directly to him. The most
senior students ate first and then everyone else. I was right at the
very bottom of the food chain and so waiting was a long one. I and
my peers watched as the bigger boys ate to their fill, and even served
themselves some more. I approached the head teacher and asked
why the seniors were still getting food and we were waiting, he said
it was procedure and I had to wait my turn. Since I had the balls to
speak however, I got a serving of a full plate real quick. He said I
should stay with the seniors and eat. He said he liked me that I had
character and was brilliant, that one day I would become like him if I
paid attention and obeyed instructions.

It all felt wrong, I had come to speak on behalf of I and my

classmates and there I was all sorted and the other guys were still
waiting, looking at me from a distance, with a bowl of rice and fried
chicken on top. I dropped the plate and I told the head teacher that it
was wrong and all the students should be served and not just the
crumbs going to the juniors. Some of the seniors took offense and it
didn't take long before I was under the whip.
Father listened attentively as the mualim narrated the story of my
disobedience and spoke about how I must be thought to behave more
appropriately. The head teacher surprisingly did not alter the story at
all, he most definitely had thought that he had done the right thing. I
had kept the story from my father and stayed away from the Arabic
school for the past week, spending all the time playing football.
Earlier, after the incident with Mr Baba, father had asked what time
the Arabic school resumed, I told him the school was closed for that
day. That the imam took a short trip and decided we all took a break.
I had made up my mind not to attend classes there anymore and
telling my father could lead to some scolding. I was glad the mualim
was doing it for me.

Father looked at me and then looked back to the teacher, I could tell
he liked that I spoke up for the way the seniors handled the little
feast. In the course of this book, you will find my father to be a very
practical and understanding man. He said thank you to the teacher
and said I deserved the whip and he would probably give me more
when we got home. He said nothing to me on the five-minute walk
back home that evening, I walked quietly beside him and after he sat
down at dinner he asked 'what exactly do you want to do with
yourself?'

I carried the question with me for many weeks. Father enrolled me at

another Arabic school and every evening as I walked to class, I
would ponder what exactly I wanted from life. At school during the
day, I would do the same thing. My problem was fitting in and
following instructions, how was it that I preferred to stand out and
not fall in line like the other kids. I got into fights all the time even
while playing football. I was the one everyone called upon to
confront the bullies. I was getting involved in other people's fights
more often than mine. At school my teachers were quite satisfied
with my grades and often displeased with my involvement in what
one of them described as 'activism'. I looked up the word and I liked
the meaning, maybe a little too much. I would later lead a campaign
in my senior secondary school days advising students to not enroll
for their final exams there at the school. That they should look to
enroll in centers elsewhere. My school was notorious for exam
malpractice and sometimes the examiners failed up to eighty percent
of the students for that reason. Enrolling somewhere where the
history of malpractice was not known was much better, you got to
still cheat and the examiners would never know. In the end the
school authority found out that a large chunk of us didn't enroll there
and we were all suspended indefinitely, it didn't matter as the final
exams were only weeks away. I just stopped going to school and
waited for the exams at home, father never found out about it all. I
told him I had been given a two week break to prepare for the big
exam.
 2

(Life choices)

I tossed, and turned, and turned. The heat was killing me. I reached
for the hand fan on the table right beside me, I stared at the wall
clock and it was just past midnight. The night was still very young.
The dry season heat was unbearable and I had plenty other reasons
to be restless. Earlier that day I had walked out on my lecturer and I
might never return to school again. I had imagined that tertiary
education would bring unprecedented knowledge my way and
almost two years in and I had changed my mind. The institution of
education suddenly looked like a joke to me and I couldn't take the
mediocrity for another day.

I finished secondary school in 2003 and my admission into a higher

institution didn't happen until about three years later. This was partly
because I didn't make up my mind early about going to the
university or becoming a musical artiste, and also because I didn't
make the entry exam the first time. My father also thought it was
time I started looking after myself. The year before, he advised me
to become an 'Alfa', a Muslim scholar who not only understands the
Quran but also attends to Muslim faithfuls who might be in need of
spiritual guidance and prayers. African tradition is intricately mixed
with the rituals the Alfa performs. This includes making charms with
animal parts and making potions for people to drink. I had refused,
citing that I wanted more than that. To go to the university and make
something more of myself, but in truth I was thinking about big
stages and concerts and lights. Fame!
Father was furious that I had thrown away an opportunity to be the
star of my Muslim community. I was the imam’s favorite student
andeveryone naturally expected that someday I would take his place.
Hesaid since I was old enough to make such decision as to where
my life was headed next, then I must be responsible for the
financing of such venture. He said I could become an Islamic
scholar however, raise money and pay my way through school. I
insisted that was his duty as my father. He said I had to be admitted
first to get him to paytuition anyway.
I raised a little money and with the help of my mother I managed to
secure an entry examination form. I passed the entry exams
narrowly, not without a little malpractice of course, and mother got
help from a member of her political party who put me on what they
called the 'governors list', I couldn't have gotten the admission on my
own, my mark was below the pass mark required to study pharmacy.
The political connection however got me in to study zoology. Father
then put up the money for tuition and finally I was on my way to
becoming a degree holder.

Medicine was the choice my father made for me while I was in

secondary school. I wanted to be a lawyer or anything from the arts.
He told me once that I lied too much and being a lawyer would only
compound that. I spent the entirety of my senior days in the science
department preparing to be a doctor. Deep down I am still convinced
I would have chosen to graduate first before pursuing music if I had
been studying law. I was living my fathers dream, and it must be
why I didn't pull through with it. By the time I was writing my
university entrance exams I had developed malice for my father
making that choice for me, so I applied to study pharmacy instead,
as rebellion for not being able to study law. So that we both don't get
what we want, plus I thought pharmacy would be easier than
studying to become an actual doctor.
My first time inside the walls of the Lagoon city university was as a
student of that institution. Security stopped me at the school gate,
inquired about why I was there and I said I was a freshman. They let
me in, a classmate later told me they were the campus marshals. The
school had notorious students who indulged cult activities and the
marshals were there to clean it up. A few years before, a student
union member was gunned to death in the school premises. People
said he was a member of a popular cult group who suddenly
developed a conscience and renounced his membership. It was said
that after his release from the group, he became a part of another
group that was persecuting cultists, attacking and maiming them in
the open. The cultists in the end came after him and shot him down
right after his final year exams.

I made my way to the admin block. Even though admissions were

done online, you still had to bring your credentials in to file it with
the admin office. The office attendant gave me a look I still can't
place till date, but I submitted the brown envelope and signed as
instructed anyway, and left. I later learnt that the secretaries working
in the departments were diploma holders and that they get jealous of
the students who were studying to make a first degree and would
become their superiors. My first class was in less than twenty
minutes so I strolled to the cafeteria and grabbed a snack and a cold
bottle of soda.

The vice chancellor was famous for his no nonsense policy and
steadfastness towards his work, his class was the first I took. I was
impressed that the VC was also giving lectures, especially to
freshmen. Physics had never been my thing but he sure made it
interesting. After class I started to feel I could fit in there after all. I
didn't feel the same way after two other lecturers came in and most
people could barely hear them talk. The Vice chancellor had his
own personal sound system which was installed before he walked in.
The other lecturers didn't, so the farther you were from the front row
the lesser you could hear them. Students murmured and even
screamed "we can't hear you sir" occasionally. They were sometimes
over a thousand of us in the the theater.

Forgive my forgetfulness. While I was making my way into the

university, I was also making my way to the studio and I had
recorded a demo and even secured sponsorship. There was a
cybercafe down the road, two streets or so away from mine. I went
there on this fateful day and found a guy about my age sitting in
front of a computer playing piano on the computer keyboard. I
yelled how surprised I was that he could do that. We got talking and
we agreed he would produce my first record ever. "I am Michael" he
said. I already saved up some money from the teaching job I got and
so we hit a studio that was directly across from the cybercafe. I paid
him a thousand and five hundred Naira for the production, mixing
and mastering of the song. A few months after the recording was
done, Michael called to say that his boss at the cybercafe had heard
the song and liked it. Said he wanted to start a record label and
would like to sign me up. I made a copy of my song instead and
sent it to a world renown record label in Illinois. I was sure I was
meant for an international audience, not some startup record label in
a small town in Lagoon city. It was after the package returned
untouched with a message that the international label would not even
open the package as artistes in the past had accused them of stealing
their creative materials that I called Michael back and asked to see
his boss. A few months later I was back in the studio with Michael
and an album was already on the way.

My cellphone rang, and it was my manager whom I also met

through Michael that was calling. She said I had to be on the radio
that evening. I picked up the only notebook I took to school, shoved
it in my back pocket and walked briskly to the school gate, I took a
bus to orilende and then took a motorcycle to Eric Moore, where
Jenny my manager was waiting.

---——-—

After juggling work with school for a full year, the pressure was on
and I was moving closer each day to making a choice between one
of the two.

Lecturers came and left, repeating all of the newer versions of the
old things I was thought in senior secondary school. Rumors were
being heard of an impending strike, and I had to go through the
youth service corp after four years within the school walls.
Possibility of getting a good paying job afterwards was pretty slim,
unemployment had always been a thing in the Nigerian economy,
plus I didn't even know if zoologists worked anywhere in the city.
Maybe at the university, but I had not intended to be a lecturer. My
father was being bled dry for my tuition and I was sure he couldn't
wait for me to graduate and begin to pay him back for the rest of my
life.

My sponsor had bankrolled the production of the video to my hit

song and I was getting airplay on major music channels. When I
resumed school for my second year, a handful of my classmates
already recognized me and called me superstar when I walked by. I
also realized I had no money left to pay for tuition which meant
going back to the old man for more. I wondered how I could have
spent close to a million on my music video without remembering my
tuition that was only a measly thirty-five thousand Naira.I decided
that I must be more interested in being a singing star than a
university lecturer. A week later I walked out on the lecturer who
was also the head of the physics department, his lectures sucked
anyway.
 3

(Then We Die)

Every person in this world is headed for an imminent death. We were

made to be destroyed. I'll quickly point you to a really simple fact of
the matter, but not before I digress briefly; every society around the
world yearns to grow. Even the third world cannot be disciplined to
move at its own pace of understanding, instead it is drawn into the
swirling energy of a higher society that's ranked civilized, simply
because it has dedicated itself to learning and understanding its
immediate surroundings better. The fact of my argument is this; we
have journeyed from being ordinary gatherers to plantation farmers,
and we have relived our lives generation after generation upon the
same concepts, of a specially customized predator-prey relationship
amongst ourselves. But we have changed the symbols, we have
made them finer and faster, and they have made us lazier. Reality
then tricks us into believing that times are changing, we look at a
new invention and wonder how much the world has advanced. We
use things and dump them for newer things, then we pretend it is in
idea that became old. In truth we have only found finer and faster
ways to do the same things we have always done or wanted to do.

The lesson is in those things, we make and break them at will. They'll
never argue or complain. The ones amongst us who let them go the
quicker, may arrive at the stunning newness of the future first. Then
age happens and we start to become corrupt. The future has become
too fast to chase, we start to scheme, we start to find ways to bring
the future to us.........to my point; Such is how we must see the world
if we are to find any peace living in it, that we are like these things to
our own creator(s) too. I always say that the flesh is the payment we
get for doing whatever it is the creator has put us here to do. We
have no inkling what the task(s) is/are. I however reason that we are
doing it/them irrespective of what we are going through, what we
believe or where we live. As long as we are alive and hearty. A
television will always show picture for as long as there's power and
all its parts are in good working condition. Same way every human
seeks to be sound of body and mind to be at peace.

The people who raised us are the first and most important template
of our lives. We will go into the world with their fears and blessings
and curses alike. No number of machines and schools shall be
enough to balance the percentage of the Haves and the Have Nots.
The means by which we create wealth shall constantly shift, only a
handful who are dedicated to the pursuit of such acquisitions shall
find the new path; but ambition is not something everyone has, some
people just don't, as in have it. This is so simply because of the
points I made earlier. People go to hunt with the words their
guardians spoke the most to them. Some carry little inhibitions while
others bear too much of that luggage. Each person will make
decisions based on the information they have. Some find balance
between history and the moment, others simply don't. We were given
a destiny at birth, freewill is given when we reach the age of
pleasure and responsibility.........Then we die.
 4

(Regimes)

General Yayi Abada was a career coup plotter. He had been involved
in more successful coup de tats than any other Nigerian soldier in
history. A man of many reputations, he worked his way to the top of
the army and kicked out the civilian president who was said to have
been clueless.

One reform at a time the general breathed life back into the economy
and the country was on its way to world domination. Currency was
stabilized, farms yielded more crops, and the foreign reserve grew.
General Abada was indeed pleased with his own progress; I say his
own because most people didn't share his enthusiasm. Speculations
were that the more powerful countries around the world didn't get
along with him, and their lack of support for his government pitched
him against international politics. I have no real insight on the matter
as I was only eleven then, but there were indications that things were
pretty bad. Like at a certain point people had to go in droves to saw
mills and haul saw dusts back home in sacks, for use as part of a
local stove, the Abada stove. It saved our lives in my house for many
weeks. Father was hardly getting work and the price of kerosine kept
climbing.

General Abada was a very decisive man. He had watched the

country go through regimes, and had helped to install some of those
governments. At a certain period, a few years before his grand coup,
the civilian government had converted the state house into a night
club, or so most people would say. University girls visited and
partied with big shot politicians, public office holders took expensive
trips abroad and even flew on private jets with their choice of female
companions. Senators who preferred light skinned girls had to fly
them in from far way countries, and they were quite asizable number
of such senators. More and more local girls bleachedtheir skin to fit
into the requirements of these financially stable men.

Abada came into power finally after a coup he orchestrated with

help from his boys in the military. His former boss, major general
alumo Perkins, the former head of state, had conducted an election
that was reported to have been a free and fair one by all standards.
Newly elected President Ajulo ajagba needed capable hands in a
newly formed government, and retained Abada as the defense
minister. This position put Abada in the perfect spot to execute his
plans when it became needed. It didn't take long for complacency
and corruption to crawl and attach themselves firmly, latching onto
and leaching off the thoughts of the elite, and the government house
didn't see a day that wasn't Christmas, the president was santa and
the treasury was gift to the numerous visitors who stormed the villa.
Artistes and actors and business men flooded the presidency, the
president would meet with them all and ensured they had an
envelope tucked into their handbags and/or pockets on their way out.

——-

General Abada had one major predicament. The suffering of the

masses, although was a major part of his daily thoughts, yet did not
weigh close to the problem of the human rights activist Bami bali.
Bali would stop at nothing to see Abada out of the state house. He
headed rallies and protested at different locations around Lagoon
city and plateau town. Abada had him locked up, and it was almost a
year and the students who started to crowd the streets were growing
in escalating numbers weekly demanding his release. A protest that
started with less than a hundred students had gathered voices from
another five hundred thousand people in a month. Small groups were
now having gatherings across the country. "We want elections. no
more military. Free Bali", you could hear people singing on national
television.

I was a junior in secondary school and the future was bleak. My

father managed to feed us all daily and give me pocket money to
school. There were days I went without money too, many days as a
matter of fact. I couldn't wait to grow up, I wanted to provide for my
parents so they could stop saying they were broke all the time.

I first heard at school from other students that Bali had been
sentenced to death. Even though we were all teenagers, the entire
school felt a sense of loss. My Christian religious knowledge (CRK)
teacher came to class that day, and the first thing he said was; I can
remember clearly because the entire class said amen. He said may
the lord save Nigeria, good people are being slaughtered, while evil
men roam the land freely. I got home and the entire street had people
in small groups, talking at every corner. You could tell that people
were trying to make up their minds or were waiting for someone to
come do it for them. It looked like war could break out, like people
could just match to the capital and remove Abada from office.

No such thing happened. by the next day people were going back to
work, even though the air was dull with helplessness. Bali was
scheduled for execution the day after. Abada had won, he had broken
the people. At dawn he would eliminate their hero and everything
would return to how he preferred.

We heard rumors that certain royal chiefs had been to the general to
plead and negotiate the release of the activist. Abada had walked
them out, asking them to return when there was something of
profound importance to discuss. Clerics and business tycoons alike
had visited the head of state, everyone seemed to be concerned that
things could escalate if Bali were to be executed, everyone but
Abada.

The next day was a Saturday, I slept a little longer because I didn't
have school. I woke up at past eight. I saw father sitting on the edge
of the bed. It was a one room apartment and I slept on the couch.
Mother walked in almost immediately and said "ootó ni, o wa lori
television, lori iroyin, lodo Iya Kiki" (it is true, it's on the news on
mama Kiki's television). Mama Kiki was the neighbor who had a
generating set, there was no power that morning so we relied on her
for the news... Abada was dead.

I walked out to the front of the house to find other tenants sitting
outside in tiny cells. The entire street was flooded with people.
Some were having conversations in whispers, but they all seemed
content with the news. Although they were all still in shock, hoping
that it was true. That Abada was truly dead. Everyone pondered on
how possible it was that he died on the day Bali was to be executed.

Bali came on television to say thank you to the people for their
ceaseless support while he was incarcerated. He said that it was a
new dawn, the end of a dictatorship and the beginning of a
democracy. The ruling class had not seen such widespread
celebration at the passing of a leader. Road blocks were mounted on
every street, people bought each other free drinks. By the evening of
the day of Abada's passing, it was a full-blown party. It was decided
by a faction of whatever group of shot callers that remained in the
government that Bali became president, seeing that he was the
people's favorite. His presence in the state house would calm the
people and an election would follow to bring the country back into
democratic rule. Another faction refuted the decision, citing that Bali
was an activist who wouldn't know a thing about governing a
country.

It was a few weeks after abada's death that Bali was also
assassinated on his way to his newly refurbished office, in a
highbrow area in lagoon city. No one really cared for the cause of
the death of the former head of state, but everyone became
interested when their hero too had followed. Speculations were
numerous. Some insist till date that it was the western powers who
had interest in the Nigerian polity that took out both men, that the
installation of Bali was going to cause more trouble as some very
powerful supporters of Abada were still lurking in the corridors of
power. These men and women believed that some interest group
took out their benefactor and that it was done for the purpose of
making Bali president. The western powers then decided that if both
men were taken out, a neutral interim government could be sworn in
and stability would return.
Another round of speculation was that both men died as a result of
spiritual intervention. That it was God and/or the spirits of the land
who killed them both to save the people unnecessary hardship.
Another group believed that it was all inside job. Some new
elements had surfaced and needed to take power and keep it for
themselves. These new players had approached both the head of
state and Bali, separately of course to get each man to back down
and make way for a new regime. The inability of this group to get
both men to play ball led to their demises.

In 1999 an election was finally conducted by an interim military

government, and president Nuges ojansoba was sworn in. His
election brought the internet and cellphones into the country. It was a
new phase for us all. The internet would open access to information,
and by my first visit to the cafe to open an email account for myself
and surf the internet, I knew that something was different. The future
had actually begun.
 5

(Such Were The Nights With Rachael)

It was 11:38pm when I snuck out of Rachael's bed and her

apartment. Barely an hour before, she was rubbing my shoulders,
rubbing her full breasts on my back. She had a soft touch that could
push an unsuspecting man off the edge quickly. I brought her around
to me and kissed her as I gently fondled her left breast. She released
a soft moan; I took her breast in my mouth. Rachael had the fire, her
passion burned and I came alight with her. I slowly found my way,
trailing touches down her belly button. I stumbled into a lush growth
of hair, following the bushy path to her treasure.

I turned her around and back into bed. Laying her down, I trailed
kisses down her navel as I found her wetness. The proof of her
arousal was incontestable. I put a finger inside her, and then another.
I moved gently in an in and out fashion, moving my fingers in a
circle simultaneously. She pushed my head into her dripping
wetness, arching her back in a heightened feeling of pleasure. I
sucked on her finger sized clitoris, wrapping both lips snugly around
her now erect organ. I gently ran the tip of my tongue up and down
and round and round it, with my lips holding it in place. She grabbed
my head with both hands. She tried to pull me away then she buried
my face back in. I knew she couldn't hold her desire for much
longer. I rubbed a finger gently across the entire length of her
softness. I resumed work on her erect organ, tasting every corner of
her sweetness. I folded my tongue around it, making circular
motions...She came undone, I watched her unravel. Her whole body
vibrated, she tried to close her legs around my head, and then she
relaxed her hold. I moved my head and she turned on her side,
closing her eyes still. More soft moans escaped from her lips.

Rachael liked it when I entered her quickly right after cunnilingus,

she said it intensified her release. So, I made her turn around and she
was on her face. I gently slid myself into her, I couldn't wait to join
with. Like it was the first time. She buried her face in the mattress,
making muffled sounds, grabbing and pulling at the bed spread. I
moved in and out of her, taking long thrusts. Her soft backside
vibrated and made ripples as I pounded into her. I took a few short
thrusts, changing the pace of my rhythm. Slowly riding in her tide,
moving my hips in a round and round motion. I could feel her
wetness exploding. Suddenly she started pulling at her pelvic
muscles, like she usually did when she reached her peak. She froze
and then her entire body shook with pleasure. Her body was so
beautiful, especially in a climax. That thought sent me off the edge
as I held her waist to the mattress, watching her butt make those
ripples only further pushed me off the peak. And I fell, deep into her
softness. Emptying myself right into her.

We laid down for a while and said nothing, time had stopped and the
world was perfect. She rolled onto her side, facing me. I kept
looking at the ceiling. She placed one hand on my chest, my heart
was still pounding. She pulled closer and placed her head there
instead. I trailed a finger down the length of the hollow of her back,
such where the nights with Rachael.

We met about two years before. She was a fashion designer and a
friend had recommended her products. She made buba and sokoto fit
so well, he had said. Her designer suits were even as good, I later
confirmed. We scheduled to meet at her office where she spent
fifteen minutes taking details of my measurement and seeking my
opinion on how I wanted the clothes to fit. She was quite detailed
and professional. We ended up having lunch together after, we were
instantly drawn to each other. I said I was hungry and she said I must
have read her mind.
The next time I saw Rachael was at the club where My very good
friend drew worked as a manager, He had ran the 'poison' night club
for two years, and since we became friends I usually go there to
hang with him. It was a Friday and Drew was preparing for the
crowd that would later troop in that evening, he left me in his office.
Rachael delivered my clothes herself, I bet she wanted to see me as
badly as I wanted to see her too. She dropped the bag on the floor as
soon as she came into drew's office where I was waiting for her and
came straight to the desk. The evening before, while we were
exchanging text messages, she said she couldn't wait to kiss me on
the lips. She bent towards me as I sat expectant of her move. She
kissed me as promised and I responded, holding the back of her head
and gently pulling her into a wet kiss. It was the first love we made,
and soon we were doing it in every part of the night club, and my
apartment, and her office and apartment too. Drew walked into his
office once to find me pounding her hard on his desk, he quietly
backed out of the office.

My career had kicked off nicely and I already scored a few number
one hits. Gigs were pouring in and I was a pop star in my own right.
I greatly enjoyed the company of many women and Rachael was
meant to be just one of my many conquests. I was however feeling
different about her. Maybe because she was such a great lay and a
great cook too. On many occasions when I would visit her
apartment, she would prepare some of the most mouth watering
dishes I ever tasted. Even when she visited mines, the food was
always good. Rachael could also hold a conversation. I could talk to
her about anything, she also always had good advice for me. I
always wanted to be a part of everything she did, I watched her draw
designs of her clothes late at night, and I would make her tea to cool
off when she took a break.

As my romance with Rachael blossomed, we got closer and went

everywhere together whenever I was in town and didn't travel for a
shoot or performance. I started to develop fears that I might lose my
spot at work if I got married. The roles of a husband include coming
home to his family as often as possible, creating stability for
himself and his own. Being a celebrity means having a certain
amount of freedom that lets me live freely and sometimes recklessly.
I started to wonder if we could still enjoy our relationship as much
as we did if we got that serious. She already mentioned quite a
number of times that she really hoped we could be together for a
long time, maybe even tie the knots if I was down. A lot of artistes I
knew who were married were having very dormant careers and I
wasn't sure if I wanted to let go of my aspirations for love. I hadn't
reached any of the goals I had set for myself as a musician. Surely,
getting married was going to slow me down.

The chime of a text message on my phone jolted me back to reality.

It was a message from drew, we had plans to meet with some
business tycoon who was interested in investing in my next album
project. We were waiting to hear from the big man and the message
said he was in town and having a small party in banana island. He
was scheduled to travel the next day and had requested to see me
that evening. I didn't want to wake Rachael, so I kissed her lightly on
the cheek and quietly walked out. I sent her a text just before I
pulled out of her garage and drove off into the still night.
 6

The house where I was raised also provided accommodation for

about eight other families. 'Face me I face you' was the popular name
for such tenement. It was a one storey building and our one room
apartment, the smallest unit in the whole house was the first tothe
right as soon as you stepped through the main door of the ground
floor. A family from the south-south region of the country had the two
bedrooms right after us. Theirs was a really large family, consisting
of a father, mother, seven children and a constant arrival and
departure of uncles and aunts. To pick a fight with the ogoros was a
mistake no one wanted to make. In as much as they themselves
constantly fought each other on a daily, they immediatelygathered
against any outsider who dared to lay hands on one of theirown.
Whenever the thoughts of how un-wealthy my father was would
plague me, I quickly remembered that I didn't have to Share our one
room apartment with no one other than my parents. Even when my
mother later brought her little sister to live with us, I still managed to
stay content. I mean the ogoros had at least ten people sleeping in
their home every night.

A family of four lived in the other two bedrooms right after the
ogoros. The father was a deportee from Europe, and he kept his
family away from everyone as much as possible. His apartment was
first inhabited by a bus driver who lived there for almost ten years,
he moved out after he got a big contract with his uncle who was in
the government. He was said to have relocated to a satellite town not
so far away. This chapter is really about events that took place when
lucky the bus driver lived in that house.

Right across from our room, an older couple lived in the two
bedrooms to the left, they had maids who mostly consisted of their
young relatives who desperately wanted to live in the city. The
couple had no children of their own, even until I became a teenager
and they moved back to the village. The maids hawked wares for the
wife, the husband stayed with her all day. They never left each
 other's company. People whispered gossips, saying that the woman
had put her husband under a spell, that he couldn't even dare think of
getting a new wife let alone have children. They said her controlling
tendencies wouldn't let children come to her.
A cherubim and seraphim woman lived in the two bedrooms right
after the older couple, opposite the driver’s apartment. She was a
spiritual healer, who made potions for people who had problems and
prayed for them also. Her husband didn't have a job, but I remember
he had charisma. He would later become a successful pastor in the
community, with the biggest church in the entire area.

On the top floor of the building, another three families resided in the
all two-bedroom apartments. The top floor of the building was a
construction that was done later, I was almost twelve when people
started moving in. Also, this chapter happened before that time. One
thing we all had in common however, was that we all shared the
bathrooms and toilets and kitchens on our respective floors. This was
the custom which such apartments. You had to wait till the neighbor
came out of the bathroom or toilet, you constantly squeezed to
manage space in the kitchen and try hard to not let anyone see what
was in your pot. The best option was to wait till no one was using
these amenities.

Armed robbery was very popular in the ghettos of lagoon city in the
90's. robbers would paste hand written letters on electric poles and
entrances, preparing people for their arrival which was never certain,
you just knew it would happen sometime soon. It was like
anticipating the coming of Christ, only it never took two thousand
years, maybe two weeks at most.

My mother had an experience which she talked about for many

years. She was on her way to the Wednesday market where she
bought fresh tomatoes and pepper at wholesale, in baskets, for retail.
She said after entering the bus, a familiar face came to her side and
whispered to her to quietly alight before the bus started its journey, he
said she was on the wrong bus and his boys were going to take it. The
guy who came to her was Friday, he was lynched a few years after
the incident. Usually, market women would set forth at dawn tobe
able to return swiftly. Mother said she did as she was told, tellingthe
woman sitting closest to her that she forgot something at home. She
couldn't look the other woman in the eye later when she narratedher
ordeal on how they were robbed right after mother alighted the bus.
Mother never told the woman the truth, she was only lucky because
she always gave the hoodlums in the area free food from time to
time.

I was walking on Main Street to fathers’ workshop when I saw a

gathering of young people and a few adults around an electric
transformer, looking at a poster. It stated that people should prepare
as they would be visited by robbers in a week. People were reading
and leaving, hurrying home to relay the message to their friends and
loved ones. I told father on arrival at the workshop, he said he
already heard. Father didn't waste time on such trivialities, he was
quite sure no one would come to rob us. He used to say 'ti aba te'le
jeje, a ma te'le pepe'. That if we make gentle choices, we'll have an
easy and long life. I was afraid anyway; I was sure father was just
being a man. The tales we had heard about how the robbers operated
was enough to instill fear in anyone. It was said that they moved
from house to house and robbed whole streets, sparing no one. That
they came in great numbers and had more weapons than the entire
police force.

After playing football all evening, I was usually so tired that I

wouldn't hear if someone knocked harshly at the door, so on this
fateful night father had to wake me up, he said to put on some
clothes and stay awake. Gun shots were heard and everyone was up
and alert. He had a machete in hand. I had been counting down to
the day the robbers were expected to come, and it was still four days
away, going by the letter I saw on Main Street. Apparently, the boys
had pulled a surprise on everyone. The time was three in the
morning.
I stepped outside and everyone was awake. The ogoros, the older
couple and even lucky the driver. Fathers had weapons in their
hands. The cherubim woman's husband, Mr. Tony had much finer
machete than the one father held. It was the first time I ever saw a
sword. Mr ogoro bragged about how he had it sharpened just the
day before and was ready to cut down whoever came close to his
family. Lucky didn't have anything in hand, but I saw a keg of
gasoline sitting beside him. He said he was ready to sacrifice the fuel
that was meant for his vehicle for work the next day.

When the gun shots resumed, the children were asked to step inside
with their mothers. The men moved in the shadows towards the
sound. They agreed it was better to go wherever the robbery was
before it came to us. Several people came out from other houses and
streets, it was a classic case of people protecting themselves. Some
of the richer men who had guns fired warning shots to alert the
robbers as to the availability of protection for the people of the area.
The police of course was nowhere to be found. Their excuse in cases
like that was either that they didn't have ammunition or the
firepower the robbers possessed was too much for them. People
believed the police gave their weapons to the robbers and that the
boys in return shared their loot with them. The situation in the
country was so bad, even the police officer didn't get paid well. The
politicians owned everyone and everything.

About seven that morning, two armed robbers were shown to the
entire community, they were said to have come from just a few
streets away from us, some people actually recognized their faces
and names. Any and everyone was allowed to get close to them and
knock their heads, or slap them. Some people even hit them with tree
branches, some with empty bottles. The two boys were the unlucky
of the lot. Over eighteen others were said to have escaped. Lucky the
driver gallantly brought out his gallon of gasoline and gracefully
poured his gasoline on their heads. The scene changed dramatically;
someone brought a match box full of matches of course. Within a
few blinks of the eye, the two robbers were ablaze and couldn't even
move very much. They had endured a massive beating, one already
had blood steadily pouring from the center of his head. With tires
holding their arms to their bodies, their movement was totally
limited. They burned and burned, the whole community watched,
and watched.

A few weeks after the lynching of the robbers, father took a trip to
the capital city of Abuja. A naval officer he worked for connected
him with a job there. I finally had no one to tell me what to do.
Mother let me be free, she trusted I could take care of myself. I
suspect she was worried about being too worried that I might get
hurt, that she let me roam free and let God. I was her only child after
all.

The ghetto of okaka town was one of the largest in lagoon city. Main
Street, where my father had his workshop was one of the busiest.
Apo, legagu and ilefide were other areas where people frequented
and happenings dominated. Legagu was where one could find
brothels and gambling spots. Every parent warned their kids to stay
away from there. As a teenager, I once visited one of the numerous
brothels there with my friends who were internet fraudsters, but
that's a story for another chapter. I met quite a number of young boys
my age at the football field at apo every other day. I lived at ilefide,
which was ten minutes walk to the field.

Abbey, who had passed away at the time this book was being
written. His brother kudus, and Seun, the son of the most popular
bread seller where all my closest friends at that point. I met them at
the football field. We would meet on weekends when schools were
closed, at a certain uncompleted building close to abbeys house.
Everyone came with whatever food items we could savage from our
mother’s kitchen. We cooked our own food and hung out at our
preferred location. It was like a cult, no one else was allowed inside.
I always brought garri and palm oil, mother never let those two
items finish at home. There were days when one or two of us didn't
come through with food items, and we had to make do with
whatever was available.

I usually returned home late and mother would lament. She

constantly worried about my whereabout. Mr Tony's wife, the
cherubim woman would pull at my ear, saying I was spoilt and
mother was too scared to scold me. Her kids who were much
younger than me always stayed indoors. The ghettos of okaka town
was too dangerous for a child to roam as freely as I did, she would
say. I didn't feel the same way, I felt like the streets were made for
me. I felt safe in the presence of the chaos.

By the time father returned from his trip, I had become really
popular in the area. Picking fights with older boys and winning at
soccer. My skills at the sport was noticed by a neighbor who
promised to buy me boots and a jersey, he never came through
though. Father was furious, he came into town with a heavy heart as
his contract was terminated by a superior to his benefactor. Finding
his only son in the state I was infuriated him the more. He yelled at
mother for doing a poor job at keeping me well behaved. He dragged
me to an Arabic school different from the one I had been self-
expelled. Enrolled me and told the imam that I was strong headed
and needed special attention. There was a day he whipped me right
outside the Arabic school, I was missing classes and the imam had
reported to him.

I managed to pay attention at the new school and before too long I
could recite the Quran properly. The thing about how Arabic was
thought is this; you first learnt to read the book, then they told you
the meaning of what you have read. The step-by-step system used in
English schools, that helped kids be able to actually speak the
language was not applied. At a point I actually thought Arabic was a
spiritual language that somehow no one spoke anywhere, that it was
the language of Allah.

The imam met with the parents of the students who could recite the
book and were ready to graduate that phase. A ceremony was put
together as was the tradition. Father gathered all the money he had,
mother borrowed some. Family and friends were informed of my
great achievement and the date for the big celebration. I got two new
outfits, one for the ceremony proper, white garment and a red cap to
go with it, and another for the after party. The day of the event saw
hundreds of people in attendance. We were all together ten
graduating students, and we all had family and friends in attendance,
our parents’ family and friends.

It was on the day of my graduation that I met Tala, who would

become my childhood best friend. His father ran a rental company, it
supplied all our chairs and canopies for the event. That morning Tala
followed us to the field where the event was to be held, we both sat
behind the truck with the chairs and tables. We got talking and
gradually became acquainted. Tala lost one of his slippers along the
way and I helped look for it. At the field, his father became
interested in the Arabic school, he made Tala start attending from
that day. The story of I and Tala will continue in another chapter.

The event kicked off on time and several imams from near and far
got invited. The time to recite the book by each graduating student
came, and I was the third in line. The events of that day changed my
life. It was the first time I would do anything in the presence of a
multitude. I read my bit and after I was done, the crowd cheered,
even imams got on their feet and everyone was greatly impressed for
reasons I was yet to find out. One of the visiting imams then said, '
this is the voice of a generation, this boy will take the glory of Islam
and his community to great heights'. I was the star of the show, and
that was the day I found out I had great vocal cords. Reciting the
Quran has some kind of tone to it that you would think the reciter
was singing.

The events at my graduation would later influence my choices a few

years down the road, prompting my decision to go into
entertainment and become a singer.
 7

(Racism)

In 2012 I had the opportunity to be at a music festival in Austin

Texas, in the United States. I made the trip with a few other artistes
including my label mates Joe, prince and JR. on landing in the USA I
learnt that my luggage didn't arrive with the service. The airline
promised to deliver my bags to the hotel I'll be staying. At the hotel I
settled in and waited patiently for my luggage which was due to
arrive the next day. My phone needed charging and everyone else
had their charger in use. I decided to get a new one as the one in my
soon to arrive luggage wasn't the original charger that came with the
phone anyway. I figured since I was in America all I had to do was
find the right shop.

My performance at the festival was not until two days later, I had
learnt that a host of very famous American singers were in town and
I also wanted to see their shows. Some of these big shots even stayed
at the same hotel as us. The Nigerian community had picked a
location for us to perform at and Nigerians in the diaspora were
expected to fill up the place, I was looking forward to a lot.

The hotel reception directed me to a few blocks down the road

where I could find the store I was looking for. The city was not as
big or crowded like say New York. I walked alone towards the
direction I was given and walked past a coffee shop, ihop, and a
building that looked like a bank. I entered an open area and saw a
long row of shops on both sides of the street. I looked from shop to
shop as I walked past, looking for anything that looked like a phone
shop. I saw two guys walking towards me, they were both white. I
asked where I could find a phone shop, they both stopped dead and
then split like water flowing around a rock and then joining after
walking past me. One murmured something I couldn't hear, I was
sure he was angry that I was asking him. They never looked back,
they just walked on. I felt strange and scared suddenly, thinking
maybe I shouldn't be in that part of town. I immediately realized I
was the only black person in sight on that street. I wanted to turn
around and run, I thought I could be attacked any moment.

In my confusion I spotted a guy wearing a shirt with phone-shop

written on his chest, I summoned whatever courage I had left and
approached him. He smiled and asked what I wanted, I said a
charger. He said to come in, 'we just might have what you are
looking for'. I felt some relief as I walked into the store where he
worked. I quickly paid for the charger and left. On my way to the
hotel I kept looking around to see if I could find another black
person. I started to think about racism.

Everything I knew about racism up until that point I saw on

television. On the news on CNN and BBC; Police brutality against
black men, store owners treating colored costumers badly and so on.
Even though I couldn't report what happened to me as the event
itself didn't have any detail, I just knew I had been treated with
prejudice when I asked the two guys for direction. It was in their
body language, it was real. I started to wonder how it came to be.
How do you look at someone and decide you cant talk to them or
deal with them without looking down on them, how do you decide
you are better then someone by just looking at them. It could be that
the guys had other things on their mind and were in no mood for a
conversation, and I was just overreacting. Still it prompted me to
start thinking about the relationship between blacks and other races,
especially whites.

I thought about the events that brought about the slave trade, the
Arab and Atlantic slave trades respectively. I thought about how
such relationship could never be completely erased. I was sure, in
my analysis, that the ill treatment and disrespect blacks get
worldwide today stem from there. It is easy to think little of
someone who was once a slave in your household, even after they'd
been granted their freedom. I thought about how the slave masters
then returned and colonized the entire continent, after the business of
slavery became illegal. The decision to make the trade go away
didn't also come from black people, it was the same slavers who
decided it had to stop. By the year 2000, our economies now belong
to foreigners. Packing their bags and closing their factories would
make our entire countries look like villages.

I started to think about our role in the way things are. Could it be
that indeed as a collective we have no binding factors, no awareness
of what and who we are. That the constant intrusion of so called
higher civilizations is allowed over and over again. In Nigeria for
instance, whatever comes from abroad seems to have more value
than ideas that are home grown. Students who bag degrees abroad
are perceived to be better educated. Sports men and women who
want to make it big must play for leagues in Europe. Even the
entertainment industry has continued to struggle for decades,
musicians are seeking to go abroad and pursue a career there instead.
The best awards go to artistes who have the most international
affiliations. The desire to learn and compete with the rest of the
world is not there, we import everything and produce little or
nothing.

We still run a gift society, where the leaders distribute wealth to

those who are loyal to them. The politicians are by far the richest
people the country, just by the virtue of being elected. They in turn
decide who gets what share of the 'national cake'. Industries are not
structured, infrastructure is not put in place to ensure people can do
business easily. In entertainment for instance, the price of a music
album is about a hundred Naira, musicians take five Naira home as
royalty per album sold. Yet music videos cost millions to shoot. The
numbers don't add up and no one is doing anything about it. It was in
2016 that I and my team decided to start selling albums for five
hundred Naira, and we seek to take the prices even higher.

I started to think again, about corruption and how we don't

understand what it means. I thought about how parents bully their
children, fathers bully their wives and vice versa. The government
bully the people, the boss bully's his subordinates. The smart person
is the person who steals without getting caught. The rich live mainly
off the resources of the country, directly. We sell crude oil to foreign
multinationals and just share the money. Money moves form hand to
hand, services are hardly rendered. The hardest workers get the least
pay and the laziest get the fattest cheques. Celebrities do whatever it
takes to drive big cars and live in highbrow areas, even though the
sources of their primary income don't pay much. Millions is spent on
private concerts, sponsored by people in government.

The location for the show turned out to be a small night club. About
say a hundred and fifty people attended the Nigerian concert. It was
nice to see fellow country people come watch us perform. The bulk
of our audience were students, Nigerians whose parents could afford
to pay tuition abroad. Most of these parents were also in the
government or affiliated to it. The universities back home are below
average, everyone else will go there except the wards of the public
office holders. My luggage had arrived and I enjoyed the rest of my
stay in Austin. I even saw some of my favorite American acts
perform. After five days in Texas, it was time to return home. I came
back to Nigeria a changed man, I had vowed to start with myself and
change everything. To become better and to grow though diligence.
Something I soon found to be a Herculean task.
 8

(Iroko high)

I got into secondary school the same year of my Arabic graduation. I

liked how busy I was becoming, going to school in the day and
Arabic classes in the evenings. On weekends I attended Arabic
classes in the mornings. The graduation ceremony stirred something
inside me, I had tasted fame and wanted more. I started paying more
attention to my studies and the imam was taking a special liking to
me. I knew I was going to do well in secondary school as well and I
was looking forward to it all. After the graduation, more fresh
students came to our Arabic school. Some parents pulled their wards
from other places where they took classes and brought them to my
imam. Everyone wanted their child to learn from the place where
people read the Quran and made other people feel emotions. I started
paying football less and less, and saw my old friends less often too.
Ambition was swelling inside of me and I felt alive.

I had always been worried about my future as a footballer, first I

had to be a part of a team of great players to shine, I needed a good
coach too. Then there was the problem of lack of luster in the local
league. Most professionals like the great Austin jay jay Okocha
played in international leagues, I wasn't sure I wanted to leave my
country and move somewhere else. Also, I got injured one time, I
kicked a ball and it was only my big left toe that hit it, we mostly
played bare-foot. The pain was there for many months that I couldn't
play for a while. As for my friends, everyone was sure I was keeping
the wrong company anyway, and since I became a star, I became
busier with my Arabic studies and they just faded into the back.

Iroko high school was by far the most populated secondary school in
okaka town, it was also the school with the most notorious students.
Mother had sworn to never let me go there, even though every other
school of choice was still the same. It was the 90's and public
secondary schools all over the country were breeding grounds for
gangs, especially in lagoon city. The violence was senseless and
mediocre. Something as little as who gets to play football on the
field first led to full blown fights where machetes and charms were
brought into it. Then they had a football cup where schools from all
over the city competed. At the end of every edition was a big fight.
Someone had lost and felt cheated, someone won and rubbed it in
the faces of others who lost, someone was eyeing the girlfriend of
someone who lost and was already seeking an excuse to start a war.

Parents who could afford it sent their wards to private schools; the
private school business started to thrive as more parents became
worried for the safety of their children. I had the option of a few
other public secondary schools as my parents could only afford
those, but I had to settle fo iroko in the end because the others were
too far from home. Transportation fare alone could become a
problem over time, my father had noted. He said if I paid attention to
why I was going there and ignored the chaos, I could make it out of
school without getting mixed up in the madness. Mother had to let
go of her worries and developed a positive attitude, she preached to
me about remembering where I was coming from, and to pay no
mind to gangs while in school. She also settled for iroko because
information would reach her faster if something were to go wrong
during school hours.

On the first day of school, I woke up at dawn. I didn't want to be

late; I couldn't wait. Even though my new school was only a trekking
distance from home, I left the house around 7:02am, I was in the
school premises by 7:18am. I was one of the say first ten people to
have arrived that early. My distant cousin, Mr Baba's first son Duru
was also my classmate. He arrived a little later than me but quite
early too. Later that morning our year tutor came in with a list. The
government made provisions for chairs and desks for fresh students.
You were expected to take good care of your own as you would have
to make do with it till your junior days are over. Three people sat on
a long bench; an equally long table was also provided. The table had
three separate compartments made into it, that was where each
person kept their writing materials, and school bags.

Coincidentally I and Duru got the same sitting space, along with a
fairly pretty girl named Busola. The first day of school had begun
and we had 'social studies' class first. At break time I spent some of
my money on buns and a local beverage called zobo, I walked
around every corner of the school, getting familiar with my
surroundings. I wandered upstairs into the senior classes, I noticed
they were calmer and cleaner. Older boys hung about by the railing
in front of their classrooms in small groups, some were alone. I also
saw one or two couples, boys chatting up their girls. I was suddenly
eager to become a senior, then I felt a sharp pain at the back of my
head. "What are you doing here, you don't know this block is for
only seniors?" It was a knock, the senior student who had hit me
stood there looking down at me, I wasn't sure if I should be angry or
scared. Maybe indeed I was breaking the rules by being there or he
was just a bully.

My woes had only begun apparently. With all the other seniors
looking on, he told me I had committed a crime and must be dealt
with. He pulled my ear and dragged me by it into a classroom. He
drew a basket on the chalkboard and drew some fruits in it. He then
drew another basket that was empty and asked me to move all the
fruits into the empty basket. I looked at him square in the eye and
muttered "but that's impossible". I thought to myself that he was
either really daft or just a psychopath.
By this time a handful of other seniors were enjoying the show, I
could tell they'd seen something like that many times. I didn't move,
he knocked my head again from the back. This time my eyes became
wet with tears, I wanted to punch him in the gut, but he was a big
boy, bad idea.

The senior whose nickname I found was 'rebel' then gave me five
Naira and asked me to go to the cafeteria and get him snack and ice
cream worth twenty Naira. Again, I thought he had gone mad or
simply didn't know math. It was also an opportunity to get out of
there, so I didn't protest. I walked sluggishly out of the classroom
and down the stairs towards the field. You had to either cross the
football field or go around it to get to the food vendors. It was break
time, and a football match was on, I walked under the trees beside
the pitch and found the ice cream woman. I did as I was told,
spending fifteen Naira out of the twenty Naira I was saving for
myself, anything to make rebel happy. I turned around to walk back
to the senior’s block and someone ran into me, the meat pie fell in
thesand and the ice cream too. I could clean up the meat pie and
rebel might not notice as it wasn't damaged at all, it was still in the
paper wrap. but then the rubber casing holding the ice cream was
torn.
Some of the ice cream even spilled. Rebel would be mad for sure.

It all felt so tiring. How could I be in so much trouble just because I

wanted to see and know my new surroundings. Then I realized I had
actually spent my money to buy the food, I cleaned it all up, ate the
meat pie and drank what I could of the ice cream. I went back to
class, and stayed there till break time was over. I knew I had tried
my best to satisfy rebel and so didn't feel any remorse. After all he
was a bully. After break, just before the introductory technology
class, rebel marched into our classroom with two other seniors with
him, they looked stressed. I wondered how many junior classes
they've been to, in a school where there were over ten classrooms
holding the freshers alone, and maybe up to twenty-five classes
holding all the junior students, and we all wore shorts. He gave a dry
talk about a student who stole his money and that the student should
stand up and identify himself before he comes to his sit and drag
him.

I was sure at that point that rebel was crazy. That he would come out
to look for the junior student who made away with his five Naira
baffled me. I had lost fifteen Naira to that stupid venture and I was
tempted to stand up and scream "you are a foolish senior". His
subordinates walked around the class hoping to find someone who
was scared enough to be the culprit, I buried my face in a book i had
and pretended to be reading. 'And the man died', i was sure the
Nobel laureate was making reference to rebel, because he looked
like he would kill himself without the five Naira. After a few
minutes they all walked out, I was in my reading position for another
ten minuets, letting my nerves become calm, wondering what would
have happened if I got caught. Fortunately, I never spoke to anyone
about the incident, not for another year or so.

Busola always sat on the outside of the chair to the right while I took
the left side. Duru was always in the middle. On the first day at
school, she asked for my name and we started talking. Within a few
weeks we talked more and more. On days when I would spend all
my money before break time, she would sponsor my snack and soda.
Duru was sure that busola had a crush on me. I didn't notice as I had
no interest in girls yet. One day she made a joke about the two of us
being together like a boy and a girl in a magazine she brought to
school. The boy had a suit on and the girl wore a lovely dress, and
they were holding hands. Another picture saw the girl and the boy on
a farm, with farming implements all around them. I didn't know
what to make of what she said, in fact I was embarrassed that a girl
was hitting on me. I told Busola I didn't want a girlfriend and that I
was only there to study and make my parents proud, and It made her
cry. I said she was irresponsible to be hitting on boys in school.
Busola would eventually become my first girlfriend, but that story is
for another chapter.

The seniors had just started their final exams and the school was
more at peace than before. The bullying had reduced and many of us
enjoyed the freedom. The next set of seniors were preparing to take
the baton of cruelty and we briefly enjoyed the transition. After the
incident with Busola, break time came and went, we settled back
into our classes waiting for the next teacher to arrive. It was our
math teacher who came in next and the seniors were also writing
their final paper that afternoon. It was all quiet, and then we all
froze. The gun shot definitely came from within the school
premises. Suddenly there was pandemonium outside our class,
seniors running around making battle calls. They had just finished
their last papers and someone wanted to settle an old score before
they finally want home for the last time. Another gun shot and my
math teacher fled through the window, the classrooms mostly only
had window frames with nothing else between you and the outside.
Students even escaped when teachers asked to see assignment by
just making a small jump.

Everyone took after the math teacher. The school gates were open,
we were all running in all directions, making our way out of the
premises. Those who had their siblings in other classes hurried to get
them out, I just picked my bag a ran for the school gate. Outside the
gates some students stuck around for the gist, i always got the story
the day after. I had long lost interest in the risky lifestyle, the
ambition to become something was taking roots within me, and
didn't have the time to hang around violence anymore. I walked as
fast as I could without running, I headed for the plank bridge that
separated my street from the school area. As I got to the bridge I saw
my mother, and a handful of other women, all walking hurriedly
towards the school, to save their children. Mother said she heard the
shots and people said it was from the school. Later that evening we
were told that a certain number of students were arrested and that
school would resume again the next day. Some of my classmates
whose parents didn't care anymore never returned. Their folks
probably went to the point of borrowing money and putting them in
a private school after that incident, or they just didn't realize the
school was so bad initially. One of such people was Busola, I would
not see her agin until a few years later.
 The story around school was that a certain student came with the
gun, his father was a police officer and somehow, he had access to it.
His nickname was Tupac and he had a bad leg. The gun was his sign
off, to show his fellow student who the boss was. Also the rift
between some of the groups made the show even better. A certain
prefect had punished another senior by the instruction of the school
principal, and so after the last papers the student who got punished
months before went after the prefect and punched him in the face.
He also had a knife in a pouch, in his school bag. The other prefects
came to rescue their friend and a fight broke out. Tupac then took
shots in the air and all hell broke loose.
 9

(Transitions)

The trousers were blue, just as the shorts I wore in junior class.
Senior students had the the classes on the top floors of the school
buildings, I rested on the railings of the balcony outside my class,
admiring the new view and my new school uniform. It was now
difficult for anyone to differentiate between me and the actual
seniors, and that felt really nice. I was no longer going to get bullied,
unless I tell anyone or acted like I was new to the trousers game.
Junior Students in my days wore the shorts for three school sessions.
Junior secondary 1-3, afterwards you go to the senior class where
you also spend another three years. At iroko high the senior classes
were the finest, the only set of junior students whose classes were
close to the seniors were the Jss3 students, who were preparing to
become seniors. Their classes were on the ground floor of the two-
storey building adjacent to the football field. Another one storey
structure stood directly opposite the field and the entire ground floor
there was a staff-rooms. The most senior students, ss3 classes had
their place right on top of staff rooms.

As a fresh senior, standing there on that balcony, looking at the

football field and the students walking around going about their
business; I couldn't help but reminisce the days when I only peeped
this building from a distance, when it was taboo to wear shorts into
senior territory. The sitting arrangement for seniors was much better
also, I only shared sitting space with another student as opposed to
two others, as was in my junior days. The chairs and desks were
made of iron bars and were impossible to lift and carry way. In my
junior days you could come to school any other day and not find
your desk or chair. The respect everyone gave students in the science
department was also something to look forward to. Already some of
my classmates from Jss class, when we pass each other gave me a
pat on the back, "science students" they would say, like I was more
than one person. Science department usually produced the head
prefect and the bulk of the other prefects.

My hopes were really high and the country too had entered a new
phase. Newly sworn in president Nuges was fighting corruption in
the government. People were being probed and were faced with jail
term; some actually went to jail. There was an inspector of police
who was said to have embezzled all the funds meant for the force,
who was also sentenced to do time. GSM was becoming popular,
people were scampering to own a mobile device, and lagoon city
was bubbling with life. Being the commercial capital of the country,
everything seemed to spring from there. The city dictated the fashion
and commerce of the country. If something were to be popular in
lagoon city, be rest assured it'll find its way into other regions.
The internet had also been introduced and job opportunities seemed
to be growing. Cybercafes were springing up everywhere and access
to international media content was on the rise.

I left the balcony after break time and sat ready for my biology class.
It was my first biology lesson and I was expectant. Biology turned
out to be one of my favorite subjects and all thanks to my very
resourceful teacher, Mrs omorire. She recommended books and
explained everything in detail. That afternoon, the next subject on
my time table was further maths, I had been told it was the most
difficult subject in my department, only seconded by physics. I
waited all afternoon and the further maths teacher never came, until
the closing bell. It might interest you to know that I never took a
further maths class throughout my senior days, the year tutor said the
school was still searching for a teacher.

President Nuges appeared to be making headway in his fight against

corruption. Foreign reserves were growing. In Nigeria, saving
money abroad was the highest achievement most regimes ever
recorded. At least no one could steal it there. The president who kept
more money on behalf of the country, in international coffers was
the best. It didn't matter if the economy was non existent, as was
always the case. The country's revenue mostly came from oil, almost
90% to be precise. The economy produced and exported almost
nothing. Food and groceries and all utensils were imported, all from
the oil revenue. Industries had no structures, the government spent
billions on education and still universities always went on strike,
constantly. People preferred products from overseas, especially the
elite who could afford them. Most people in the elite society
depended on the government, public office holders took home fat
cheques for duties they rarely performed adequately.

The corruption had gone all the way to the ordinary man, who would
not even vote. When he did, it was at a cost to the politician. The
man with the most bags of rice and envelopes of money usually won
the ballot. The appearance of a militant group also became an issue
the newly elected president had to deal with. The group wanted
control of the country's oil, which rightfully belonged to their region.
For decades the country had survived off the oil and they claimed
they got nothing for it. That the northern part of the country had
taken all of the oil wealth for itself, the oil came from the south-
south. People whispered that If the militants couldn't control the oil
they had plans to secede.

I started my senior year with hopes and a nice sprinkle of doubts. I

was glad I was advancing my studies and would soon finish from
secondary school, but I wasn't sure I wanted to be a doctor, even
though it was what my father wanted. I knew I could handle the
rigors of being a science student, but i would rather be in the arts,
preparing to study law or music. The situation in the country also
gave one mixed feeling. There was hope of growth and yet an
Uprising that would later develop into other uprisings.

After class that day, I put my bag pack where it belonged, on my

back. I walked home quietly, alone, as I did on most days from the
first day at school, and would do to the last. I walked silently,
wondering what I wanted to do with my life.

By my second year in senior secondary school, internet fraud had

become a trend all around the country. From lagoon city to sapele,
more and more people followed the easy money. The western people
were known to be a high trust society, and the internet was springing
up all sorts of opportunities, so it was easy for young boys and
sometimes girls across the country and some parts of the African
continent to tap into that and take advantage of it. Philanthropy and
employment were some of the most popular methods of catching a
potential victim, also know as "maga". Most of the victims were
caucasians from The United States and Europe. Cybercafes were the
first workshops to these new ventures, and the more successful the
scams became, the more people became a part of it. Boys my age
would in a few years become the second generation of internet
scammers, and by far the most successful group. We spent the first
few years learning from our older brothers.

At the beginning of my third year in senior school, I was already a

prefect. The final year students were usually relieved of their
prefectural duties, in preparations for their final year exams. A new
set of a head boy and girl and so on were nominated by the school,
based on performance and conduct of eligible students. The prefects
were always nominated among the second-year senior students. My
year tutor came into the class that morning and called out the names
of the best performing students of my class, we were to report for an
Interview at the chemistry laboratory, my year tutor was also a
chemistry teacher. When it got to my turn to be interviewed, he
asked what my role would be as the head prefect if I were to get that
position, I said I would uphold whatever roles the school provided as
my duty. On my way out he asked if I was a Muslim, going by my
name, I said my father was. He said "then you are a Muslim".
When the list of prefects came out the week after, I was given the
position of assembly prefect for the muslim students. This meant that
I would conduct the morning assembly on Wednesdays and Fridays.
Also, I'll help in the control of other students as needed by my
teachers. Whatever the school needed done that was considered to be
beneath the teachers became the role of the prefects. I wanted to turn
down the role of assembly prefect as I rarely went to the school
mosque to pray. I was already entering a phase in my life where I
was beginning to think that religion was not for me. I had spent a lot
of time around my mother’s relatives who were christians, and
duringthe xmas period, I would attend church services with them.
The scripture the bishop preached were very similar to the things the
imam always said. Although both groups insisted, they were different
from each other. I also got a gift of the holy bible when I was in jss3
and I had learnt that the story of the prophet Mohammed was not in
the Bible, even though that of Christ was in the Quran. I started to
think that maybe I should avoid both religions. I was however
unable to make that choice yet, maybe I was still too young and was
afraid of what my father, the school and the entire society would say.

My training as an Arabic student came in handy as a prefect. On

Wednesdays and Fridays, I would conduct the assembly and recite
verses from the Quran. The muslim students usually sang along
while most of the Christian ones looked on, I liked to think they were
wondering what we were saying, since all Islamic supplicationswere
done in Arabic. Most of us Muslim students didn't even know the
meaning of the bulk of the things we were reciting, even me the
prefect. Christian's have always thought of muslims and Islam as
strange, I guess that's what you do when you don't understand
someone/something. Muslims also think that Christians are not
straightforward, they believe that they hold a higher moral ground.
The birth of my rebellion at school started with the muslim students’
society, who accused me of not being one of them. From the time of
my nomination as their prefect, to the confrontation which was
roughly a full school term, I had not been to the school mosque or
even the gathering of the MSS. The head of the society was the one
who approached me and asked if I didn't know I was the highest
ranking muslim in the school, that my absence at the activities of
muslim students was totally unheard of. I insisted he was the head as
far I was concerned, that my role was more official that religious.
That if it was so important to him and the rest of the society to have
a practicing student as a prefect, they should have insisted that the
school let the Islamic religious knowledge teacher pick the preferred
student for the job. I knew he was right though, so after a while I
started to visit the mosque to pray, especially on Fridays. I also
attended a few of their meetings. I knew my time in school was
almost up, and it would be better to part ways with as much peace as
I could muster.

The final year exams were usually slated for may/June of every year.
By the time school resumed from the end of the year break, final
year students were expected to start preparing for their exams. New
prefects were nominated from the ss2 class, and so the calendar
goes. By the time of the confrontation with the MSS however, I was
already thinking of my university education and I wanted everything
to go smoothly. First, I would have to pass my final exams well and
that was an obstacle by itself. My school was very famous with
exam malpractice like I had mentioned in a previous chapter.
Although this was the same with most schools around the country,
but the violent behavior of students from my school made us a
target for examiners. Also, It was like the people who put the
questions for the exams together were not part of the school
system, or they lived in other counties or continents. One would
pick up past questions and wondered who wrote them, why our
teachers didn't tell us the hard parts of those topics. In the end
everyone had to find a way to pass, less than half of of the
population of candidates nationwide could beat their chests and
say for sure that they wrote every paper and passed by their own
understanding of the questions. I believe the corruption in the
country started from students getting help to pass their senior
secondary final year exams.

I complained to my father consistently, I didn't want to write my

final exams twice, and so it was important that I passed the first
time. I was also sure I couldn't write and pass all the ten papers by
myself. I knew I could handle English language, biology, geography
and Yoruba language. Chemistry and physics were going to be a sure
disaster, so I decided to go elsewhere, where I could get help and
pass those other subjects.
I had heard from my older cousins that my village was the hotspot
for exam malpractice, they said examiners were scared to cross the
estuary that surrounded the island. Luckily my people were the
larger group of indigenes of lagoon town, so I wasn't traveling too
far from the city to go write my exams. I told my father it was better
to write my final exams in the village, he wondered why, and I said
examiners were more lenient because they knew the villagers were
not as bright as city dwellers, and that would boost my chances of
passing well. I didn't tell him the answer to every question would be
written on the chalkboard for everyone to copy freely.

Weeks before my final exams, my year tutor came to the class once
again, it would be the last time he would make an announcement to
us, as far as I was concerned at least. He called out a few names,
myself inclusive and sad that we were to stay away from the school,
the school would not let us continue revision classes there while we
were preparing to write our final exams elsewhere. My father had
already concluded arrangements for me to write my papers in the
village and I had advised some of my peers to do the same. It turned
out a lot of us had same thing in mind, and more than a hundred of us
were expelled on that day.
 10

(Age of desire)

Tala had become a student at the Arabic school as his father had
wanted. He also had an Arabic teacher before then, only the teacher
came to the house to tutor him and his siblings. Unlike me, Tala had
seven siblings, he was the first born of his father and mother. His
father married two other wives and also had a lot of concubines
around okaka town. A few years after joining the school, Tala also
did his graduation, but I was more advanced at the study of Arabic.

He was partly my friend and also my student. Most pupils wore a

green top and trousers to class, I wore a long gown ( jalabia), also
green. Tala joined me and made a gown for himself; the imam didn't
care because he was my friend. I took good care of the school that
sometimes the imam could be away for days and everything still ran
smoothly. The only person who didn't get enough attention was me
and it didn't matter, I was having a great time teaching everyone else
what I knew. When the imam returned, he dedicated most his time to
teaching my class.

Busola had returned to a private school in okaka town. Her new

school was around the bend, a few blocks away from my Arabic
school. Since my graduation few years before, I had become a head
teacher there. Attending Arabic classes kept me away from my old
life, I even rarely played football in the streets. My attention was
shifting more and more towards my studies. By the time of her
return, I was also a senior in secondary school. She was way prettier
than before. Her eyes were bright, a perfect contrast to her smooth
dark skin. She had developed broad hips, and a perfectly round
backside. The first time I saw her, I was directing a pupil on how to
grind charcoal, we grounded charcoal and mixed it with water to
blacken the chalkboard, just like in school. She was surprised to see
me, and immediately noticed I was in charge there at the Arabic
school. A pupil was making her way out of the mosque, and I
ordered him to go back inside. She also saw the whip in my hand.
Busola's church was also just a few blocks away from her school,
adjacent the mosque. On that evening she was heading to bible
studies and had a magazine in hand. I asked to borrow the magazine
after apologizing for how things played out in school few years
before. She said it was nothing, that she understood that I wanted to
pay more attention to my studies. She gave me the magazine, and
over the next few weeks we constantly exchanged books. I had also
bought some books of my own and also borrowed from friends.

In an effort to make it up to Busola, I would save up my little pocket

money to get her hair cream and perfume. I also made a stipend
attending to people who came to see the imam, or on days he would
take me with him to naming ceremonies or even funerals. I always
recited the Quran while he interpreted. My romance with Busola
blossomed and some of my friends were in awe when they saw us
together. Some told me she was too good for me. There was a table
tennis board not too far from my house where boys my age and even
older would gather most evenings. It cost five Naira to play a game,
and the winner continued to play until they were beaten.
Involvement with Busola gave my ego a boost, I would only play
around the time she would be passing, making the other boys
uncomfortable as she stood by waiting for me to finish. I won a lot
of games that way, It however didn't take long for things to change.
Being a pretty girl, a lot of the boys in the area wanted busola,
especially the older ones who had Jobs and made far more money
than my parents could and would give me. Busola broke off the
relationship citing that I had a bad attitude. I hadn't even kissed her
all the while. I was waiting for the prefect moment when we would
both be ready, it turned out I was the only one that was unprepared. I
told an older friend of mine who was also a final year student at my
secondary school at the time, he asked me to bring Busola to his
house, said his older brother had travelled, to be back in a few
weeks. I didn't make my move earlier and she broke up with me
before I could summon the courage.

After my final exams, I quit the Arabic classes. I told my father that I
wanted to pay more attention to my studies. I told him I needed to
read more and prepare for the university. He wanted me to become
an Islamic scholar, to take after the imam and hopefully succeed
him. He said if I didn't do as he wanted, then I must be ready to take
care of myself from then. He said I could sleep in his house and eat
from whatever mother cooked, but I would no longer have access to
his money for my other needs. He believed that being an 'Alfa'
would help me make money, as I was already doing going out with
the imam, and I could actually pay my own way through the
university. I insisted it would be a distraction, that also it was his
duty to pay my tuition. Truth is I didn't think the religious path was
for me. The time was drawing closer when I had to decided my own
future. I was certainly unhappy that my father made me do science
courses in secondary school when I preferred the arts, and didn't
want to make the same mistake of letting him decide what my
profession should be. I however understood that he wanted me to
support him as it was really hard to raise money to take care of those
things.

Tala and I got a job selling children books. He had other friends
whom I also became friends with. All five of us took the job together
and it helped me cope with the stress of going from shop to shop,
trying to convince every man and woman that the books were good
for their kids. There was a man who lived in Tala's fathers house
who worked at the wharf, he was making good money and never
spared it to get himself new clothes. Every few months, he would
give away all of his clothes for new ones. We were the first
recipients of his good will and the five of us in Tala's clique would
run down to the tailor’s shop to fit the clothes to our different sizes.
The company we sold books for required that every sales person
pushed a thousand copies monthly, it was the required amount you
had to sell to collect your salary. At the end of two months however,
most of us in my group of friends had only sold half of the required
number. We were tired, the job was draining. Walking in the sun
daily, taking transportation to other areas because we didn't want the
girls we liked to see us selling fifty Naira a copy books. In the end
we approached the management and got them to pay us as a group.
Together the five of us received a month salary of two people.

Busola had gotten pregnant by the guy she left me for. I was relieved
I was not the one responsible. I still had a lot I hadn't done for
myself, a child at that time would have made my life a mess. I found
out she was pregnant one day when I was sitting outside the house, I
was done with my final exams, but some students still had one or
two papers left. Busola was one of those and as she walked past my
house on her way home from writing one of such papers, she did it
sluggishly. I called out to her because I still cared, even though she
broke my heart almost a year before. Although I didn't confirm from
her right there, I knew she was more than just feverish as she
claimed. Mother always said a girl that was pregnant will put on
some weight and will become sluggish in a certain way. Later that
year she had a daughter, confirming my earlier suspicion.

I also had sex for the first time, the year after, at the age of eighteen.
Tala and I made plans to spend Christmas eve at our friends house.
Bright was one of the members of our five member clique, and the
gang would gather at his church just before Christmas Eve service is
over, and we'll all go back to his house together. His aunt whom he
lived with knew us all and expected we would all be there that night,
all our parents knew. My father had gone to his annual gathering of
muslim faithfuls, it was a week long affair and he would not be back
till the second day of the new year. My mother also went to a vigil
that night, the imams in the area were taking after their Christian
counterparts, some women were sneaking to church vigils and it was
better to start doing the same thing at the mosque before all their
women became Christians. So on Christmas Eve, new year eve, and
once every three months, imams held vigil services in the area.

I tore open one of the condoms I got as gift when a none profit
organization came to my street, they implored us have sex only with
protection, so that we could secure our future. They even thought us
how to wear it, using a wooden penis. Since then I had wasted two
of them learning how to wear it by myself. I succeeded the second
time, using the oil mother got for her hair as lubricant, as I stroked
myself back and forth in the bathroom. With a better lover
pornographic magazine in one hand.

Mabel laid there under me, I couldn't believe she had come home
with me. I saw her hiding from the barrage of fireworks that was the
norm on days such as Christmas Eve. It was at the corner of Main
Street. I promised to take her home and managed to cajole her into
coming with me instead. I and my friends had tried to lay with
Mabel, but it was difficult because every one of us wanted her at the
same time. She obviously like us but was unwilling to lay with us
all. It was my lucky day as I was alone.

I kissed and nibbled on her earlobe as I had seen in pornography,

nervously. It was my first time after all. She gave a soft moan, and
didn't waste time to lay on the bed, my parents bed. I positioned
myself between Mabel's legs, I saw a whitish creamy substance at
the entrance of her sex, and I knew she was aroused. I rolled on the
condom as before practiced and took my first thrust into a woman. It
was warm, she obviously had more experience than me, not only
was she not a virgin, she wriggled her hips and moaned softly. I was
having the time of my life, I was having sex. After about a minute
Mabel said she had to go, that I had to end it quickly. I was in luck,
my body gave in in time, i reached my peak and came down with a
shudder.

Tala was at the door when Mabel walked out of it. I was walking
behind her so I could lock the door and go on my Christmas Eve
rendezvous. He looked from me to Mabel and she playfully hit him
on the chest, giggling shyly and walking away. He looked back at
me and asked "you fuck Mabel??".
 11

(Survival path)

I wrote my first song in my first senior year, I called it future. I and

Tala, and our small group of friends started a band a year before we
rounded up our secondary education. After school we started to meet
more often to rehearse. We usually met at Tala's house, his father had
a very spacious sitting room. I wrote most of the songs the band had
even though I had little training in the area, I would listen to popular
music and try to form a song of my own around what I had heard
from already established singers. A melody here, a lyric there. My
experience at the Arabic school came in handy as reciting the Quran
was very similar to singing. Also my mother and I had a talent for
changing the lyrics of popular songs, she wrote them to sing to my
father.

A year or so after school we decided to try out our skill and visited
the studio. The producer/ engineer we worked with was bongo-man,
he was fairly popular around the suburbs of lagoon city. Booking
the studio time was not a problem, as we had all the money from our
book selling job. Bongo-man was in shock when I started singing,
'future' was the song we chose to record, hoping that because it was
old, it would our best. Bongo-man was in shock of how badly
arranged the song was. I had broken all the rules and didn't know my
count. Some lines were too short to fit into the count, others were
too long. We spent the first few hours trying to rearrange the song to
fit Bongo-man's required structure, it was my very first lecture on
song writing. It was a night session and by the time we were done
arranging the instrumental, we were all defeated by fatigue.
Considering that we had only booked that session, it became
necessary to finish the song that night. I and Ade, the other vocalist
on the band managed to sing both verses and Bongo-man did a quick
fix on the mix, and sent us home.
After sleeping all day, we gathered in front of Tala's house the next
evening, I had the compact disc from the studio in hand, and we
were all staring at each other, waiting for who was bold enough to
walk into Tala's fathers sitting room and insert the disc in the player.
Eventually I took the initiative, the rest of the band followed me, and
after I pressed play, hearts began to break. My verse played first and
as disappointed as I was with my rendition of the song, I could still
hear potential in my own voice. Also the night before, Bongo-man
had whispered to me "you have some talent, don't give it up". Ade
also managed to pull through with his verse, the chorus was by far
the worst part of the song, and we all knew those who didn't come
through on the track.

Rehearsals became sparse, everyone had one excuse or the other to

not attend. The failure of the band at its first outing had broken all its
members, we just met as usual and talked about girls, and food, and
the prospect of money making. Ade was the first to get admission
into a higher institution, he had a solid alibi and only attended our
gatherings once a month. After a few attendance without any
rehearsals, he started showing up even less. Ade was also the first to
quit the band, he said he had to pay more attention at school and that
his performance in class was not looking good. Less than a year after
the failed attempt to record our first song, the band disbanded.

Being that it was my idea to start the band, I had it in me to still

Want to pursue a career in music. The Nigerian music scene was also
expanding, more and more newer acts were pouring into the music
business. The arrival of democracy was opening doors, people were
expressing themselves more freely. Tala kept the file where all the
over eighty songs we had were. I took the file from him, picked a
few songs I thought were still good to use, and I started writing more
on my own. My passion for the art blossomed, and in no time I got a
job as a teacher in a primary school, raised money and revisited the
studio to record on my own. I met Michael, who will later produce
many of my works, around the time. He was making a beat for fun
on a computer, using the keyboard as piano. He was the IT
technician at the cybercafe where I went to check emails and browse
the internet. Then going to the cafe was quite fashionable, and
internet scam also had its base at the cafes. Michael was
immediately ready to produce a beat for me, he said it was his
second production project ever.
Few weeks later, I recorded my first and only demo, the title of the
song is of no use to this book as it was never published.

Michael's boss who owned the cafe came in months later to find him
playing my song while fixing some of their computers, he wanted to
know what song it was Michael was playing. After learning it was a
boy from around the area, he immediately asked Michael to tell me
to see him, he was starting a record label and would like to sign me
on. As desperate as I was at the time, I still felt there was more, that I
was meant for more. I told Michael I had no interest in a wanna-be
record label, I sent out copies of my song to labels around the
country, I even made a copy and sent to an international record
company in the west. I never got a response from any of the local
record companies, and the parcel I sent out also returned. The
mailing company said that international record labels didn't open
packages they didn't solicit for. I called Michael after that,
demanding to meet with his boss. Maybe if I started small, maybe I
was meant to start small.

I met Rolly at Michael's studio. She was pretty and as skinny as a

model. She said she came there to pick up a song her and her friends
did for a political campaign. Some popular pastor was running for
president and was asking for a suitable jingle to air on radio,
applicants whose songs get picked would get paid a lump sum. She
was also acquainted to some established musical acts around lagoon
city. I was initially warming towards the idea of laying with Rolly,
but then I thought of the good that could come from her being my
manager. I asked if she was up for managing an artiste, at that time I
and Michael had only worked on the skeletons of many of the songs
to be recorded for my debut album, Michael's boss had agreed to
sponsor my first project, without a contract. He said he wanted to
help local talent, he wanted to see boys from Okaka town become
big stars.

I promised Rolly she would be the first to listen as soon as songs

were ready from the album. A few weeks later I went to see her at
her mothers house, she was blown away by the songs she heard and
was already making plans to plug me on radio, and was asking if I
had a budget for videos. I took her to see my sponsor, and it didn't
take long for her to become, officially, my manager. Everything
Rolly lacked in skill or experience, she made up for with her
enthusiasm. She always wanted to do something, always made
moves. In no time I was meeting with people within the music scene
and things were really looking up.
 12

(Freshman)

My father wanted me to be doctor, I always thought he wanted that

because his foster father was a nurse. The old man was very popular
for his generosity and kindness towards all. My father was one of the
numerous nephews and nieces he raised. He was responsible for
ensuring my father never got a second wife, according to my father
he would say that one woman was already too much trouble, and
that having money could make it easier if you were to take more
than one wife. My father obviously couldn't afford it, so he let go of
the thought. Despite worries and complains from his other relatives,
he stayed with his wife, my mother. In africa men were expected to
take another wife if the one at home couldn't produce as many
children as the man would like. My mother had had two other
children after me and none of them survived birth.

I was still sure that I preferred the arts, even at the end of my
secondary education. I became even unhappier as time passed, I
would have preferred to be a lawyer or a musician. Father said being
a lawyer was bad for me as I was already a habitual liar. After
secondary school, it was impossible to go back as I had spent the last
three years studying In the science department, i decided if I couldn't
get my hearts desire, then father would have to give up some of his
too. When the time came for my university matriculation exams, I
picked pharmacy and microbiology as my courses of choice, leaving
out medicine/surgery on purpose.

Following my decision to quit Arabic school, father had promised to

take little or no part in affairs that concerned me. I depended on the
little money I was saving and my mothers help to secure a
matriculation exam form. I knew that if I got admitted into any
university, father would put up the tuition, his anger was only
temporary. I managed to pass the exams, even though my mark was
way below what was required to study either pharmacy or
microbiology. Mother made a few phone calls to her friends in
grassroots politics, those who knew people on the state and federal
levels. Eventually, I had my name smuggled into a list that was said
to have originated from the state governors office. Being an indigene
of lagoon city made it easier, the government had a system in place
that ensured that locals got affordable education. Even if it meant
smuggling them into the university as in my case.

I got admitted to study zoology, it was the best the university could
do for me. Zoology was an unusual choice because Nigeria didn't
have a research community that was fledging. One would most
likely end up as a lecturer with a degree in that course. I started
thinking maybe I would become the first Nigerian zoologist to find
and name a new species of animal. My sponsor had also agreed to
finance my album project at the time, I also wondered if I was ready
to combine studies with work as a recording/performing artiste. I
asked myself for the first time which would I choose when push
came to shove.

My first time inside the lagoon city university was as a student

there, I had only passed in front of the school a number of times, on
my way to town. I was stopped at the gate by some uniformed men
whom I later learnt were the campus marshals. The school had very
notorious students who indulged cult activities. The campus
marshals were hired to rid the campus of such bad eggs. There was a
story making rounds one time that a certain student union president
had been murdered cold blooded on campus. He was said to have
been a part of a cult, then he denounced his membership. Afterwards
he became a part of a movement that was lynching cultists on
campus. Some of the cult groups came after him and shot him dead
in broad day light, right after his final exams.
The campus marshals wanted to know what my business was there
at the school, it was like they could see right through me and could
tell I had never been on the premises before. I said I was a freshman
and they let me in after asking what faculty and department. I asked
around for the office of the head of department of zoology, I needed
to submit my credentials as demanded at the end of my registrations
online. The attendant at the office gave me a really weird look, I
would later find that most of the people who worked in the
departmental offices were diploma holders, and they didn't like the
students much. We were studying to become first degree holders,
which made us their better as soon we graduated. After submitting
my papers, I found my way to the science faculty cafeteria to grab a
snack before my first lecture as a university freshman.
My physics lecturer turned out to be the schools vice chancellor. I
had been told how hardworking and strict he was, it was a
confirmation seeing him standing there, waiting for the lot of us to
stop the murmuring that followed his entrance. It was in his time that
the campus marshals came into existence, the school had been said
to have had more peace since then. It is one thing to have the VC
deliver lectures, it is another to have him teach a freshman class. I
sat up ready for my first class, and it was a fulfilling one. By the
time the class was over, every student in the hall stood up and gave a
round of applause to the vice chancellor. His method was so simple
that I could tell that all over a thousand of us understood everything
he thought. It was by far the best physics lecture I had ever received,
or anyone of us, going by the reaction that followed his exit.

The next lecturer was a no show, a few minutes before the end of his
session, a senior student walked in to announce to us that the lecturer
was held up and had sent her to deliver notes to us. We were all
required to make copies of the text and return the original to the
bringer of the message. The text contained all the topics to be treated
that semester. Mr Agbari turned out to be one of the many lecturers
of his kind I would encounter in school, many didn't even show up
the whole week. As long as they've made lecture handouts available
to us. Almost at the same time the whole class was entering a frenzy
of who gets to make copies of the texts first, my phone vibrated in
my pocket, it was Rolly, she said I had to be on radio that evening. I
picked up the only book I brought with me, folded it into my back
pocket, I knew I could ask any of my numerous classmates the next
day for a copy of the text our absentee math lecturer had sent down.
I made my way to the school gate, boarded a bus to Suru where my
manager was waiting for me.
 13

(The storm before the storm)

Tala returned from school one afternoon and informed me he was no

longer returning to complete his degree program. He said his father
had told him pointedly that he had to graduate with flying colors so
he could get a good paying job and finance all of his seven siblings
through school. It was standard practice for Nigerian parents to earn
less as they grew older. The oldest child would become responsible
for the other kids and the parents themselves. Sometimes it could be
any of the children, whoever made a financial break first. Tala's
father had lost his place at the paint factory where he was a
wholesale distributor, the factory closed down when some of the
operators didn't learn how to operate a new machinery properly.
Management had hired a Chinese expatriates to operate the new
machinery for a year. After a few months, the workers told
management there was no need paying the Chinese team so much
when they have already watched and learnt how they operated the
thing. Management then terminated their contract with the Chinese
expatriates and only a week after their departure, the machine
packed up, someone had left a certain switch on that should have
been off at the time.

I and Tala discussed for long about his decision. We both knew he
couldn't make first class, and getting a job that could take full care of
himself afterwards, and still spare some for his parents and siblings
was a tough one. People who worked high paying jobs either had
connection within the company or were so bright that the company
had no choice but to hire them. The first was the most common, it
had always been a based-on-who-you-know country. Tala said he
then told his father to no longer bother about him, he would find
something else to do to raise money. That his father should spend
what he had then to ensure his siblings stayed in their respective
primary and secondary schools. He was sure by the time they all left
secondary school and were ready to further their education, he
would have hit it big and be ready to see them through tertiary
institution.

Tala became the first of my friends to join the community of internet

fraudsters. I couldn't judge him, knowing well what baggage had
been put together for him to carry alone by his father. The business
of swindling unsuspecting internet users of their monies was
booming. Young boys all over okaka town were moving into
apartments and buying cars. I told Tala it was up to him to choose
what route to follow, but I was not interested in surviving that way. I
couldn't rationalize why I would lie to someone to get them to give
up their money to me, without providing them any form of service in
return. For Tala however, it was a different ball game. Maybe if I had
siblings of my own, I would have chosen the same path.

Within a month after, Tala was already going to the bank to pick up
international transfers. Over ninety percent of victims of internet
fraud were foreigners. Around the same time, more and more of the
boys I grew up with joined in and were cashing out. I started to
wonder if was not making a mistake by not joining such a lucrative
endeavor. I asked Tala to show me what to do, he had met some boys
while in school who thought him. He asked me to use some of his
own tools until I was able to make enough money to buy mine. The
era of operating from the cybercafe was running out, it was too
dangerous as the police were raiding. I got on Tala's laptop and did
as I was told. All I had to do was send a precomposed message out to
my potential victims, a.k.a 'maga'. The message said that I was the
lawyer to a certain American philanthropist, and that the recipient
had been randomly picked by my boss to enjoy from his
benevolence. I was to transfer by cheque a sum that ranged between
five hundred to a million dollars to the recipient. Getting my victim
to send a small sum of say one thousand dollars to facilitate the
shipping of the cheque was how the scam worked. After sending me
the small sum, I would then make up an excuse to why the sheave
still didn't get to them. Then asked for more money, usually the
amount of money needed just kept going up.
I took another look at the message and I was sure it wouldn't work, I
just didn't think anyone was that foolish to give me their money after
reading it. I could see that it worked for Tala of course, but more
importantly I still couldn't get myself to do it. I had a heavy
conscience resting on my shoulders already. I was sure I wouldn't
enjoy spending the money afterwards. My father also asked if I was
part of it, that it was absolutely wrong to take people's money when
they didn't hand it to you themselves.
I started to write more songs. When I was not on campus taking
lectures from my mostly lazy and Undedicated lecturers, I was
always holed up in my fathers one room, writing. I was sure the
music would take me out of that house and okaka town, I just didn't
know how. Tala got an apartment twenty minutes walk from our
former street and sometimes I would visit him there. Other times I
was at another friends house called Kunle. Kunle had a makeshift
gym at the back of his fathers house, I and a handful of other boys
would gather there mornings and evenings. I had been lifting
weights with my neighbor, the European deportee, so I had one or
two things to show the boys at Kunle's gym. Also I had guitar that I
saved up for months to buy, I would write songs with the few chords
I knew and practice at Kunle's in the evenings. Most people who
listened assured me I was going places.

Things were becoming rocky between myself and Rolly. She had
gotten romantically involved with my sponsor and was getting
carried away by her new status. The music still wasn't making
money and sometimes I had to depend on my boss for a stipend. He
would complain about all the money he was giving Rolly and how
we were not making returns. I spoke to Rolly severally about the
state of things, she told me she knew what she was doing. She said
that's how it was, that I had to pay my dews first. I was sure she was
right, but I was also sure she didn't have my interest at heart any
more. The boss had gotten her a new car and an apartment at Suru. It
was strange to me that my manager was driving around while I was
still walking about the streets. I knew I had not earned it, but she
hadn't either. My boss also knew about the growing squabble
between I and Rolly, he said I was initially planning to scheme him
of his money with Rolly, and I was only angry because he
outsmarted me. Eventually the boss called me one day and gave me
some money I had asked for to make a music video. I made inquiries
and found a video director just outside okaka town who made an
amazing video for one of my songs. The boss was happy, he said I
was the first artiste who used the money for exactly what he gave it
out for.

Things eventually collapsed between me, my sponsor and Rolly. A

major distributor had shown interest in my work and was offering
enough money to cover the expenses on the recording and the video
I made. My boss refused the offer claiming that the distributor was
too greedy and that the music was worth more. I was basking in the
success that came from my effort with the video. Students saw me
on campus and recognized me as the guy from The music video.
Some called me super star. More importantly, it was an opportunity
for my boss to get some return on his money. However, his refusal to
sign the papers for the distribution rights clarified a few things for
me. I concluded that my sponsor had no interest in making money
from my artistic works. That didn't explain anything though, because
he had spent all that money and I thought it was only natural that he
wanted to make some back. Thinking about it now, I have decided
that it must be that he hoped i would take the money and abscond
with it, maybe he wanted to send me away with a heavy conscience.

I knew it was time to pack it up and move on. The one problem I
however had was finance. If I had enough money I would get back
in the studio and record another album on my own. I also needed
money for my daily upkeep. A friend of mine akin had moved into a
one room at the back of my parents house. The landlord was getting
old and needed more money. He broke one of the the too spacious
bathrooms and toilets at the back of the house and made them into a
room. He also broke down the bathroom and toilet on the other side,
and made them into two bathrooms and two toilets to make up for
the other ones. Akin was looking for a place to rent at the time and
my mother spoke to the landlord. The landlord was happy
considering that the renter was coming from people he already knew.
Most landlords were always worried about the conduct of their
tenants. I moved in with akin and took care of a few things when I
could. Leaving my sponsor meant I had no where to get the stipend
he usually handed me once in a while. I was worried akin might
send me packing if I didn't contribute to getting things done anymore
at the house.

I spoke to Tala. I asked if he wanted to come on board and be my

financier, I told him I had some new materials and was sure they
would be hit songs. Tala said he couldn't do it, he had just bought a
new car and didn't have so much left to invest in the music business.
Telling my sponsor I was leaving was totally out of the question, it
meant it would no longer have access to anything from him. My
debut album was rotting away and my boss even asked me to go and
distribute it myself. He offered to print some copies if I would take it
out to the market myself. I am sure he knew I could t be successful
that doing that, now I wonder why he would ask that if me then. As
much as I try to make excuses for all that happened then, I cannot
help but decide that he was afraid of the possibility of my success, a
success that was imminent.

Since I had very few options then, I returned to my sponsor and

demanded I needed to get back in the studio, I wanted to handle the
entire project myself. From recording to promotions and the
eventualselling off of the distribution rights. I didn't tell this to my
boss of course, he still expected me to work with Rolly despite
knowing thatI handled the video project that brought the distributor
the year before. I knew that if I got him to pay for my studio time
and all, I could get him to do other things from there. I made sure
Rolly was present at the meeting, and I praised her and him for
their help all those years, and that I was sure we were closer to
success than before. He approved the new project, and I couldn't
help but wonder why I was doing it. He had lost some investment
from the lastproject and had said nothing about it.
 14

(Life choices)

I dropped out of school. It became imperative that I chose between

rounding up my tertiary education and facing my music career
squarely. I could have taken it one at time by finishing up with
school and getting back to singing professionally, but some events
took place that prompted the very tough choice I made. I have
probably mentioned that my parents didn't have a lot, and how hard
it was for my father to keep it all together for all other years. Same
was the situation when I was in the university, he managed to get my
first tuition and even the second.

Meanwhile I had my mind on my music that I forgot to put a little

money aside for my own tuition from all the money I got from my
sponsor that went into the makingof my music video. This got me
thinking that maybe I didn't want tobe in school after all. Also, I
started to feel more and more that the school system was created to
train one to be obedient as opposed to what we've been told that it
prepares us to be leaders. All the knowledge one gets from school
are already printed in textbooks, which means they are things that
already happened. I had actually thought that the university would
be different, that most of my lectures would be discussions and my
exams will be research, thereby helping me to learn about current
affairs. This wasn't the case, instead I had lecturers who didn't attend
classes and others whojust read verbatim from notes they already
made years before, and had used repeatedly for all those years.

The music, even though it was only money I got from my sponsor,
was already paying my bills. Plus I was now on TV, and people
knew my name, at least in my locality. I figured if I pursued that
some more, it could only get better. So after my sponsor agreed to
finance my return to the studio, I decided to pay attention more to
the music and let life teach me everything else I needed to know. I
started buying books, any and everyone I could afford. My father
had gotten used to me dropping out of things, and so when I told him
weeks later that I had left school, he barely reacted. He probably felt
a shock that didn't let him say anything. He said I must be prepared,
because there was nothing for uneducated people. He said he would
have done better for himself if he had someone who cared for his
education like he cared for mine. I thought to myself that he could
have done better if he never stopped learning about the latest
techniques in carpentry. I had always believed that the times always
bring newer methods of doing old things, that one must understand
those new methods and reconcile them with the things we already
know. To stop learning is to stop growing.

I didn't care if the neighbors knew I had dropped out. If they did, I
am sure they whispered and laughed amongst themselves, something
most people would kill to have had just been thrown away by the
son of a mere carpenter. An opportunity to liberate his family from
ignorance and poverty had just been lost, they probably said. I had a
girlfriend then named Foma, she had smooth skin and full breasts.
There were days, when akin would go out to work as a disc jockey,
when I and Foma would lock ourselves up in the room and fuck our
brains out. Or maybe it was me fucking her brains out. I would pick
Foma up in my strong arms from weight lifting, pin her to the wall
as I took her repeatedly. She would make soft moaning sounds and
hold on to me tightly. Sometimes we made out at Kunle's house
when his brothers were out. Foma would bring me food after, when
she cooked at home. I also had a girl who came to see me from
outside lagoon city, I always took her to Tala's place. She was a fan
who liked my popular video and found me through my sponsor. I
always thought my sponsor had something to do with her, and that
made fucking her even more fun. I thought since he could have my
manager, without caring for how it affected my career, maybe it was
the universe paying me back for my loss.

Kunle had a video game console in his room, and only his close
buddies were allowed to stay and play. His best friend Tade and
Okwu were my frequent opponents at football. When we were not at
the gym and there was power, we would play football all day, we
sent Kunle's mother's house help for food and sometimes Foma
brought all the food we needed. Since I had started work on my new
album, I would return from the studio to play with the boys and
Foma. Kunle always told me he was sure Foma and I would end up
together as husband an wife. I never paid him any attention when he
said that, all I could think of was my career and what I wanted to be.
Also she was not the first girl to fall in love with me, so I was
getting used to having and letting them go. There was a girl I have so
far failed to mention, her name was Ebim. Ebim was the niece of a
co-tenant at my house. She came visiting sometime in the new year
after my encounter with Mabel. She was tall and had a fair skin. I
used to tease her about her long nose and small lips. She had
European blood and told me about her grandmother who was from
some part of Western Europe. Ebim and I had dated on and off. She
lived in Apele and only came to lagoon city once every few months.
I also took her to Tala's place so her uncle didn't find out about us.
She was the first woman to offer me financial help for my work. I
had refused to take her money, I was sure it would mean tying
myself to her for longer than I was willing to. I needed to be able to
get up and just go when the time arrived. Leaving okaka town and
becoming a world class singer was the ultimate goal.

After recording a few songs, I took a break from the studio for a
week. Partly so I could finish work on some of the songs I was
writing, and to also reenergize myself. My producer Michael always
said it was good for my vocal chords too. Rolly probably knew I was
trying to not involve her on the project, even though I never said so.
She would call me on the smartphone I bought from the money my
sponsor gave me for the video. The phone was the only thing I got
for myself from the budget. I let her visit the studio to not confirm
her suspicions. I felt she had come to understand the ill treatment she
was sending my way, when all I wanted to do was make success for
all of us. The car the boss got her was getting old and their
relationship was not so smooth anymore. I also knew that her
support was a part of the experience I had gotten on my journey.
Through her I had met quite a sizable number of music industry
people whom I was still in contact with personally. I was even
considering giving her a second chance, I thought it was better for us
all to try again and maybe we could make wiser decisions. After all,
none of us, including the boss had experience in the music business.

Tala had a cousin who was much older than us. He lived with Tala
and his family for almost five years, in the time in which he learnt
and started a trade. He was hardly around. Maeel was a stand up guy,
easy going and very hardworking. I had given him a copy of my
debut album and he was impressed. Since then he would ask how
my career was coming and was one of those who really cared. There
were days I would visit his store on Main Street, Maeel would buy
me food and even give me some money after. During my break from
the studio I paid him one of such visits, only this time I just wanted
to stay with him for a bit. I was having a small fight Foma and didn't
want to see her that day. She didn't know where the store was. Maeel
was not available when I got there, his store boy told me he went to
the mosque, it was Friday and he was observing the compulsory
afternoon prayer. He returned afterwards and we had barely spoken
when my phone rang and it was a contact I had at one of the very
popular music channels on TV.
 15

My first time in Ikira was when I wrote my entrance exams into the
university. The streets were paved and trees grew along the side-
walk. Ikira was the capital town of lagoon city; the mayor had his
office there. Street hawking was rare, unlike most other parts of the
city where young boys and girls sold wares in traffic. In more recent
times since the return of democracy, the mayors of lagoon city have
gradually transformed everywhere, region by region. Talks were
being held every other day; new plans were being drawn. New roads
here, new office building there, the city has grown immensely and it
always seems there's more to come.

Although most people still insisted the growth being experienced

didn't affect the ordinary citizen, that the government always only
took care of the rich and kept the poor even more impoverished.
Many people swore the country had gotten worse since the election
of Nuges. The truth is even though lagoon city continued to flourish,
the rest of the country was in turmoil. President Nuges left us with
militants who insisted the oil must be under their control. Most
people still couldn't read or write, a lot of us were trapped between
embracing the imported ideals and our traditional cultural norms.
After Nuges, the succeeding regimes have battled even more
determined enemies. An insurgence erupted from the northern parts
of the country; suicide bombing became the order of the day. The
east was emerging with talks of secession. Decades before, a civil
war had happened, robbing them of lives and properties. There were
myriads of unresolved issues within the polity.

I sat in the corner of the bus, waiting for the conductor to announce
our arrival at my bus stop. An old man was snoring lightly beside
me, waking up once in a while with a jerk, whenever the bus fell into
one of the very numerous potholes that were the Essentials of
Nigerian roads. When we arrived at my destination, I alighted of
course. Asked for directions from the motorbike riders who had their
park close to the gates of the estate I was entering. I found my way
down a paved street, making all the turns as instructed. After a five
minute walk I found a blue gate, as I was told I would by Jude's
personal assistance. Jude Jones was a popular hip-hop act around the
country, the phone call I received at maeel's store brought me to see
him. My contact at the music channel was Rele. Rele had called to
tell me that Jude Jones had seen my video and really liked it. He said
Jude would like to record a song with me.

The security at the gate made me wait for a few minutes as he made
a call into the house to confirm I was an expected guest. I heard him
speaking into a handheld, and saying "okay sir" a number of times. I
had never been to see a popular artiste before, I looked around the
compound as i walked into the well furnished apartment. It turned
out Jude was not around, his assistant broke the news after I sat
down to a bottle of cold soda. I however met Jude's younger brother
JJ who at the time was recording for his debut album. Everything
happened really fast afterwards. JJ also happened to be a fan of my
music video, he said he liked how I mixed my mother tongue with
English on the song. A studio was downstairs where JJ said he had
been all day working on his soon to be released project, I went in
there with him to listen and chat, we were getting along and I was
enjoying every bit of it all. Within a few hours after my arrival, we
already had a song in the works. I couldn't resist the beat I was
hearing on a song he titled sugarcane. He played my another
instrumental and then another. It didn't take long before I jumped on
one and made chorus for it.

I managed to live with the excitement I was feeling from the events
that was taking place. JJ said he was sure the track would make it
onto his album. He barked orders at the engineer to make haste. He
told me the distributor was coming in to listen to the first cut of the
project, that the release was only a few weeks from then. It was all a
dream, I was on my way to being on my very first featured track and
it was looking like a big one. The network of radios and blogs
available to JJ and his team was an assurance that more people
would hear me, and a growing fan base simply meant a growing
career. When I left the apartment, something had changed inside
me. A feeling of newness engulfed my soul. Although I didn't know
why, and it didn't last all night, but it was there. It was strong, in
those few minutes that I felt it.

Jude Jones was a tad shorter than I was. The first thing he said to me
was " you are short too" and we both laughed. The album launch
ceremony for JJ was going smoothly, Jude's assistance had called to
invite me. Jude himself had returned from a trip to ensure he was
present for his brothers big day. I watched performance after
performance, even though I wasn't slated to take part in it, which I
was grateful for. I wasn't sure I was ready for the kind of crowd, this
was the elite gathering of the entertainment scene. I was sure most of
the people there imparted their clothes and shoes, I even caught
glimpses of some of the big names on soundcity. Most of the
celebrities wore dark shades, even though it was at night, I found it
odd, but then thought it was part of some kind of culture. They also
moved like they were hiding from something or someone. I started
wondering how it would be when I became famous, if I would also
have to wear dark shades at night and hide from sight.

I told my friends about what was happening, I also got a

complimentary copy of JJ's album at the launch, which I played to
them. Kunle swore the track I was on was by far the best on the
album. Tala said he hoped the relationship with Jude would take me
away from Okaka town. Everyone was without doubt happy that I
had made a connection of that magnitude. I spent late nights
wondering what was going to happen next. Akin told me he was sure
more was coming. I started to spend more time at the gym, I also
wrote more songs. It became important to me that I was ready and
fit, i had been looking for a breakthrough and it was looking like I
was closer to it than I ever could have imagined.

I visited Jude's more often. He introduced me to the team at his

record label. I met the CEO, the directors, managers, and cold bars.
Cold bars was also a hip hop act on the label. I started to notice how
unique my place would be on the team as I was the only singer there.
It was on one of these visits that Jude opened up and told me about
their interest in working on a deeper level. He said they were
interested in some kind of a recording contract. The music market
was very traditional and regional, most people in different parts of
the country identified more with music that spoke their mother
tongue. In lagoon city, the Yoruba language was predominantly
spoken by the locales, as it was in most part of the south-west
region. Jude was sure that with me on board, as a Yoruba speaking
locale, we could score more hits.

My excitement could not be contained. I wrote even more songs and

spent time with my friends. I couldn't talk much anymore about the
latest developments, I was worried as I didn't want to be the cause
of envy from others. A miracle was happening in my life and I
wanted to be sure it was real. More so because a few weeks before, I
was with Tala at his favorite joint where we drank beer and ate
catfish pepper soup. I mentioned to is friends that I had met Jude
Jones and even slept in his apartment a number of times. A friend of
tala's looked me in the eye and said " you??, you wey we dey buy
free beer here say you know that mega star... I die, you dey lie". So I
decided it was better to talk less about it all. Plus it was still a very
long journey, even if the deal happened. I knew there was still much
more to accomplish. I started to concentrate more on being efficient
at work. I read more books and wrote even more songs, my days in
Okaka town were numbered and I had hesitation about leaving it all
behind.
 16

Ebim and I had a break up almost a year before I met Jude and his
crew. She wanted me to quit music and pursue other more lucrative
endeavors. She had initially raised money for me to sponsor the
production of my album, when I got tired of working with my
sponsor. I refused to take money from her because I was unsure she
was the one I would end up with for life. I also felt that she would
attach very big importance to money, like most of us. You always
easily find yourself wanting to be in control of anything or person
you spend money on. I had seen it first hand with my sponsor and
was worried about taking money from someone whom I had
emotional attachment to. Ebim then suggested I quit the music all
together, she thought it would be better if I worked in the petroleum
sector. She had an uncle who managed a big firm and would put in
word for him to hire me. I was furious, all I could think of was the
lights and stage and the crowd yelling my name. Here was the
woman I was in romance with telling me I had failed and it was time
to move on. It would take me years to realize that Ebim actually
meant well, even though her words made trifle of my aspirations at
the time.

The room upstairs at Jude's house where I lived with his younger
brother who had just finished school and was waiting to start at a job
had no windows, except in the bathroom. This didn't matter very
much as there was always power, Jude always wanted the house to
be alive. Friends came over, someone was always cooking
something. The generations set was always on, thousands of Naira
burned in gasoline all day, everyday. It didn't matter that so much
money was going into providing power, we were all pumped and
working hard, and so money was coming in. I had featured on
another song with Jude and cold bars. The song with cold bars was
particularly hot, we were all anticipating its release.
I ushered Ebim upstairs. Some of the guys in the sitting rooms
downstairs eyed me, like we all did when someone took a girl up the
stairs. It had been a while since I saw her, and I was more than glad
she came to see me. I wanted our relationship to remain, I also
wanted to be able to provide for myself and her, without the help of
a sponsor. Even if there would be a sponsor, I Wanted to have a
business relationship with the person so they could make money off
my work as well. One sided relationships always stop working out in
the end. Although Ebim would prefer that I quit, and I had gone to
show her that determination and some luck always paid off. I
thought it was only right that I forgave the fact that she didn't believe
in me, and understand that it was my dream anyway, and other
people might not understand how I was feeling. Of all the girls I had
been with, she was quite different, I was drawn to her pretty face and
her sometimes shattered mind. I had my own ghosts and a constant
need to fix the narrative to battle with, so I understood that her
imperfections were there to compliment mine.
I broke out from between her thighs when the flood came, our
shivering bodies laid side by side each other. After a few moments of
silence, she got up, kissed me on the cheek and headed into the
bathroom. I laid there for a while longer, examining my own
thoughts and feelings. It was as if the long months of our break up
had clouded my opinion of her, or maybe I had just changed and
moved on permanently in my mind. The new place I was in required
that I had a clear mind, and a bendable one at that. I had spent the
last few months at Jude's, plotting for the future of my career. Ebim's
reappearance had suddenly become a reminder of a time I would
rather let go of. I turned around to go to the bathroom and caught a
glimpse of tablets of medicine sitting on top of the things in her
handbag. The bag was slightly opened and I only had to dip my hand
in and pick up the tablets. The prescription was for epilepsy and I
immediately regretted snooping her things. I started to feel a rush of
confusion. Although I had already made up my mind to not see Ebim
again, I then started to wonder if I would tell her. Also I was sure I
didn't feel how I used to, but the medicine I had found confirmed
that I had to stay away. This on its own was a selfish reason, to walk
away from someone you love because of an ailment. I was however
starting afresh where I was, and I wasn't sure I wanted anything
disturbing my concentration. Plus I was not sure I was strong enough
to carry her and carry myself at the time, with or without the
ailment.

On the short walk to the taxi park, I couldn't hold back and we talked
about her ailment and I told her how disappointed I was to find out
on my own, and wanted to know why she didn't say anything to me
all the while, for over three years. She said she was sure I would run
away, I thought to myself that "well I am running now". I couldn't
say the words out loud, I knew all that she was dealing with and it
was unnecessary to rub my point in. She said she was sorry. I told
her it was alright, even though I knew it was the last time I would
see her. A few weeks later, she called me to break the news; she was
pregnant.
 17

(love)

Growing up around my father and my mothers relatives thought me

a lot about people and their belief Systems. Father was a practicing
Muslim who almost never missed his prayers, five times every day.
He obeyed every rule and kept every promise. He never tasted
alcohol since I had known him, he told me he had stopped drinking
since he was twenty seven, barely a year after I was born. He never
ate pork, never smoked a cigarette. The mosque made father its
official treasurer, and every penny was kept safe. He always returned
the money exactly as he was given, neither hunger nor lack drove
him to touch from whatever was in his care. Whenever there was
panic or a fight, be it at home, among the neighbors or even in the
streets; if father happened to be there, then everyone was in luck. He
asked the right questions and gave the best judgement at all times.
Although I was always frustrated that he didn't have money in
abundance, he would always say he had what he needed.

My mother was born to a Christian father, Anglican to be precise. A

strict and well mannered man, he once refused the title given to him
at the village shrine. He rejected all and any form of idol worshiping.
In his home town in Badagry, Akeju was renowned for his
steadfastness. Although my mum was eventually raised by her aunt
who was a Muslim, her initial upbringing still stayed with her. Her
people ate pork, and I would join in the feast whenever I visited for
Christmas. Father never found out of course.

I started to note how my close relatives all behaved individually,

without the influence of religion or culture. Some were mean, others
were nice. My father's people were as jovial or strict as my mothers,
even though they all belonged to different religions and sub cultures.
However when it was time to correct, scold or control a younger
sibling or child, they quickly turn to their bibles or Quran. They
draw reference from culture, anything that is not traditional religion
will be employed to enforce the rule. Some of them gossiped till
there was a big fight over their shady conversations, only to turn
around and tell a child to stop lying. Religion or culture did not stop
these adults from corruption and indiscipline, yet they enforce these
rules on younger children. I am going to make an exception of my
father, who only paid mind to his own beliefs. Father never judged
anyone for not worshipping like he did. There was a time mother
went to church with her friends, father would laugh at her and tell
me " o'ri iya e, church lo tu n lo", meaning look at your mother, she
has now decided to go to church instead. And that would be all.
There were many times in my teenage days that I would not observe
my prayers, father would tell me that some day I would understand,
that my path would be made known to me when it's time. He never
enforced his choices on me oranyone at that.

I started to wonder, exactly where did belief come from.. how do

people come to hold on to ideals and concepts invented by other
people. I had been told that god inspired the writing of the holy
books and the words therein are of god. So I started to read
everything. I went through the Bible I was given in my first year in
junior secondary school every other night. I also got an English
Quran as I couldn't interpret what I was reading in Arabic. I noticed
a lot of similarities in both books, and that prompted more questions.
Like how can two things be so similar and yet disagree so much with
each other, how can Christianity and Islam not be one. These
thoughts stayed with me all of my teenage days. As I got older, it
became as if society required that I believed in something, or maybe
it was just in me as a person to have something to believe in. I
contemplated for a while and decided that I would believe in love.

I realized that most people do not believe in god or allah or any

supreme entity for that matter, most are only afraid of the wrath of
an almighty they can't see. People go their own way, manipulate
each other at will, lie and cheat. When the situation invokes fear and
panic, they quickly seek spiritual help. It's as if we try to plainly
trick whatever deity, ideal or god we believe in, only to get what we
want. The clerics are preying on their followers, and they site
passages from the books that give them the authority they now have.
It became clear to me that we are only interested in serving our
personal selves, contrary to what our holy books teach. I decided to
believe in love, because it is the only ideal in the world that sets you
free, because love is truth. Good and evil however exist side by side,
and everyone or animal that lives must partake in everything the
world exists with, so I must contribute my own share to the chaos,
but I'll do it for love, only for love.
 18

By December 2010, the song with cold bars had become a massive
hit. The internet was buzzing with my hook and his verses. Everyone
was talking about my new crew, and much more attention was being
paid to us than before. For me the actual joy was in the fact that I
was meeting up to the task set in front of me by Jude. I figured that
if I was going to live in his house, then I must contribute my share of
the income. The success of the song with cold bars meant more
money for the record label, and more comfort for me for my role in
it. Even though I was very new to the business of fame, and the
speed with which everything played out was unprecedented, which
Prompted me to want to step back and observe what it was I was
getting into. More importantly, people were abrogating a lot of
accolade to my effort on the track, thereby undermining cold bars'
contribution. If he were to be the true owner of the song, then I must
give him the space to own it. The record label also spoke to me
about stepping back a little for him to shine, which coincided with
my own thoughts. I needed a little more time to get into character, he
needed all the time to own the space already created for him, perfect
situation for us both.
The atmosphere, when I initially joined the crew was calm, everyone
did their thing and supported each other with kind words and smiles
and nods. Jude motivated everyone, asked us to listen to other
musicians and get better at writing. He used to say that music was all
we got; in a music scene that only paid attention to dance music, that
we were the voices of reason. This meant hard work, fusing
meaningful lyrics with melody that could still be enjoyed had never
been an easy task. The competition was stiff, there were other crews
as was the practice then, different crews still sprang up and younger
and hotter acts were pulling out from different corners of the
industry. The hit song with cold bars was our claim to throne,
everyone agreed that we were the hottest thing out. Gigs were
pouring in, for cold bars especially and even the rest of the crew.
Organisers wanted Jude even more, he was the one who put the
magic together after all. JJ was hardly in lagoon city, always
shuttling between Abuja and here. I also went out with crew from
time to time, I was preparing for my own outing and like I said
earlier, I was hardly prepared for the thing, so I was taking my time.
My outing with the crew always came with remuneration, helping
me pay rent to Jude and send some money home to my parents.
The success we were experiencing also had its pitfalls. Before the
hit, Jude was the only established act on the label, he single
handedly brought cold bars and JJ and myself in. We all lived in his
duplex, ate his food and pretty much depended on him for guidance.
JJ's album didn't fly as much as Jude's efforts, so he was still riding
higher than his kid brother. JJ and cold bars were quite close, so they
moved out of the house not long after cold bars started making
waves. A move that was necessary. The guys were stars and naturally
needed more space. Jude told me many times that he had no share
from the proceeds on cold bars works or JJ's. I believe that their
independence from him made him see what he could have gotten
from their respective deals with the label. Considering that they all
started making music together before coming to lagoon city, I guess
he did it as a way to help is brothers move up. He however noted his
contribution to their success and wouldn't mind some kind of
payment in return.

I always knew that loyalty was never payment for something

someone did for you, especially when you are making money from
it. I knew I was going to have to part with something in exchange for
what I was getting. It is why I didn't ask for a contract even though I
had done some amazing work on a few tracks with the crew
members, I figured if I was going to be a part of the family, then I
must contribute as a family member, because that was how the crew
presented itself to me. I hardly met with the label executives, Jude
was the liaison between the artistes and them. It was a beautiful
arrangement as we were a faction and the label too another faction.
Jude spoke up for our collective rights and the label took initiatives
that was needed to keep everyone disciplined and working. After
cold bars new found success however, and the subsequent by him
and JJ, things started to shift. Jude no longer knew of their
whereabouts, what they did, when they got home. I assumed it must
be tough to deal with such changes, but I could also tell there were
things he wished he had done with them, business wise.

By the next year, the label gave me a contract and I found out after I
had signed that Jude had a share in my earnings. I was happy he had
fixed his initial failings and was glad I was giving something back to
him directly for his contribution to my career. We were however a
long way from that very first hit song with cold bars, the relationship
between us all wasn't the same, partly because we were all growing
up in every way. The rest of us wanted to be like Jude Jones and
have our own place and maybe raise other people up. Cold bars had
put out his debut album, I had also been on some hit music spree,
cutting tracks with other artistes outside the label and also putting
out some monsters of my own. Cold bars had moved into a totally
separate apartment and JJ, who didn't make a lot of friends was
living alone. Jude suggested I moved in with him, we could handle
the bills together, he said.

Candy records was run and owned by a group of business partners

who also ran other businesses. They signed Jude a few years before
the rest of us and had an enviable layout on how to run a record
label. Everyone either liked, hated or respected them. The music
scene in Nigeria had seen years of build-up, record labels had come
and gone, some were still there after many years, but candy records
was unique. The owners were from the eastern parts of the country
and did business differently.

I do not know a lot about the personal details of the owners of the
label and so I'll go straight into my dealings with them instead. One
will wonder how I came to work with them for years without
knowing much about them, I hope I am able to spread out a few
things in the course of this book. One thing i must point out though
is that you are reading about ambition. Candy records was a pool of
ambitious people, teaching each other about the components of
dream chasing.

In other to keep everyone in their place, as it was in the very

beginning, the label had a system of hierarchy, where Jude remained
the biggest act and everyone else stood behind him. This was the
practice around the music industry at the time, bigger artistes signed
up younger, up and coming acts and in most cases insisted on
remaining bigger than them. Irrespective of how many big tunes the
we act puts out. After all of his campaign and success cold bars was
still expected to pay homage to Jude, which caused a few quarrels
between them. The former had obviously surpassed his mentor and
made a bigger hit, to be asked to humble oneself to make another
person happy was a concept I found strange. There were times
organisers wanted one of us for a gig and the label sold them the
idea that all four of us were better, for a little extra charge. Jude
would always take the biggest pay home, even though cold bars and
I were making bigger records and were the toast of the fans.

The music business is a business of perception. People only judge

musicians by what they see them wear or who their friends are. The
musicians contributed to this form of rating of course. We have been
sucked in over the years by the need to show everyone that we are
successful....... It didn't take long for me to notice that despite my
efforts and contributions, I was being seriously underrated. People
knew my voice and loved it, but my image was still that of the guy
who was signed to Jude. Moving in with JJ was the first step to
changing that perception, and I didn't realize how tough it would
become to break free until I had started.
 19

(Lions' den)

It took a while before I could comfortably stomach alcohol. I was

already in my twenties before I started drinking. Partly because my
father talked about how it was wrong for a Muslim, and I initially
didn't like the taste. I started going out with Tala and his friends, we
drank and ate at the popular bars across Okaka town. The gathering
usually became a full blown party as more and more people showed
up to join, they were usually invited by someone who was already
there or was on their way there. One of the popular places we
frequented was called the den. They made a very nice catfish pepper
soup, and we downed bowls upon bowls of it with our beer. My
favorite part was the head of the catfish, it kept me busy while Tala
and his friends discussed their internet scam business. The fish was
always very big, so the head was even bigger. There were days when
we drank to stupor, I would get back home and quickly make it the
bathroom, throw everything back up before I could manage to take a
shower.

In Ikira I shared bottles of beer with one of Jude's friends. Jude, just
like my father didn't drink. Job was also a hip hop artiste and was
making his way up in the game, like they used to say. We spent
hours playing football on the PlayStation console Jude had in the
sitting room downstairs. Bottles of our favorite beer sat close to us
as we did battle. Sometimes we played through the night, when job
spent the night. I couldn't tell who was better as he would win a few
games and then I would beat him at a few others. The beer and the
video game were just some of the things I and job shared.

One day, while we were playing and drinking as usual, job held his
phone close to me and pointed me in the direction of a girl on the
screen, he said she was hot and I could see it. Her backside was
particularly noticeable. He said she was mine if I wanted, that she
would give it up without much trouble. I said I was down and took
her blackberry pin. Blackberrys were the in thing and everyone had
one. A few hours after getting her number, Tomi found her way to
the apartment. I told her I liked her very much and that I got her
number from a friend. She said she lived around the area and liked
my songs. When she stepped into the house, job was sitting in the
chair where he had been all along. She nodded at him, one wouldn't
know they knew each other by the slight nature of the nods. I took
Tomi up the stairs like I had done a dozen other girls.

I was making my way slowly, talking sweet to her and nibbling on

her ear when a sharp knock came on the door. I went to find out who
it was and it turned out to be Job. I opened the door slightly so he
wouldn't see Tomi in the room. He said we wanted a part in the
show, I asked what show. He said the girl wouldn't mind, and that we
could have a threesome. I hesitated, then I let him in. So far
everything Job had told me about Tomi was true, so I assumed he
knew her that well. Tomi shrank a little, noticing what was going on.
Job got close to her, played with her cheek and asked her to relax,
she did as she was told, but was still reluctant. She said she only
came there to see me and didn't know Job would be there. In the end
Job kissed her upper lip and she let him.. I pulled out a pack of
condom I had been keeping all week and handed Job a piece. I
fondled with Tomi's breast as Job continued to kiss her. My hand
slipped in between them and I found her soft spot, she was already
dripping with the juice. I peeled out my condom and rolled it on, I
saw Job from the corner of eye do the same. We didn't say much to
each other, both of us only wanted to prey on the girl lying in front
of us. I positioned myself behind her as she took the doggy-style
position. It was long minutes of adventure, and after taking turns a
number of times, i rounded up the session with my seed spilling into
the rubber sack.

A few weeks after our little stint, I and the rest of the crew took a
trip to a neighboring state for a gig, I could t hold back the joy of
sharing what had happened with them. I told Jude, who was sitting
closest to me on the bus. He started laughing hysterically. He bent
forward to tell JJ and cold bars who were sitting in front of us. All
three started laughing. Cold bars took the opportunity to narrate a
similar occurrence between us when we took a trip the safaris in
Kenya. He told the guys how we had taken a group of three girls
back to the hotel from the club and I had suggested we have sex with
all three, in turns. He didn't agree of course, just took his own girl
and ran to his bedroom.

It didn't take long, the conversation became about all our

experiences with different girls. JJ told a story of how a girl cried
about the great size of his manhood and Jude told one about a pretty,
dark complexioned girl he had been with. Later Job was confronted
with the story of our escapade and he was truly mad that I told
everyone. I laughed and told him it was a good story, and maybe the
other guys too might want to have Tomi. "I just had to share, like we
did", we both laughed.
Such were the times I had with Jude, JJ and cold bars. There were
also times we didn't get along. I and cold bars once had an argument
about my costume, on our way to an event. He insisted I didn't look
good enough to go out with him, I was offended because I had just
joined the crew and was barely making any monies to buy new
clothes. JJ hardly got into any argument with anyone, and I avoided
fighting with Jude like a plague, everyone stayed away from
arguments with Jude. So when you disagree with him, you had to
find a way to talk about it and settle amicably. So even though there
were issues with the workings of our record label, there was still a
bond amongst us the artistes.

Candy records was understaffed, and when one artiste had a project
to run, every other artiste waited. My contract was for three albums,
through a period of six years, or however long it took. I had read and
understood the text in the documents properly before signing. I knew
that It was up to the label to either waste my time, or let the projects
roll out in time for me to complete the contract in the stipulated time
of six years. After signing, I had thought I would kick off recording
one of the three albums immediately. But months after, nothing
happened. I had been with the label for over a year already and I
thought everyone was looking forward to pushing my project up.
Instead, I got a call one day that a joint album was to be made by all
four artistes on the label. I knew that recording and release of such a
project would be fast as each artiste has only a few tracks to
contribute, however I wanted to know what contract the project was
attached to. I now had a commitment to the label to produce three
mastered albums and I wanted to dive in and deliver on time. If I
was taking a detour to record new materials for a project I didn't sign
up for, I wanted to know what the arrangement was with the said
project.

Communication was haphazard, no one called to explain what the

project was about. Even though I lived with JJ, I couldn't get him to
tell me what was going on. He said it was Jude who controlled
everything. A few months before then, Jude had already proceeded
to take a post as an executive of the label, to me he was no longer
like me. He was now dining with the people he promised to fight to
ensure my rights were protected. I never got a call from Jude, only
from the people around him. This compounded my already worried
mind, I had been recording on my own with no advance from the
label, they always said they were going to take care of it. I had also
complained that I no longer wanted to be featured as a part of a crew
as I had a contract to fulfill individually. None of my complaints
were addressed, and I started to have a bad feeling about it all. The
fire I had sparked among the audience, I was afraid was dying. If I
didn't service the crowd early enough, they might forget my voice.
They were not familiar with my face yet to remember. Considering
also that I had spent the first one year serving my fellow label mates
made my sadness worse, I had thought e regime would carry me and
say "that's our guy", instead it felt like "you'll be fine, you can take
care of yourself".

Eventually Jude came over to the house where I and JJ lived. He

came along with another executive on the label. His assistant had
called to inform me that Jude needed to se my plan for the year, I
already had the same conversation with the general manager at the
label, and even fixed a time and place to meet and discuss. I only got
a mail stating that Jude was now an executive and that certain rights
were due to him. I wasn't aware I was working in a firm, I was not
an employee, I was one half of a machinery that needed its other half
to function. I was as important to the label as the label was to me. I
couldn't help but feel that the move to put himself in the position he
found was a ploy by Jude to control the outcomes of the investments
the label might want to make on everyone else. Even JJ commented
that Jude had gone behind our backs to make himself a label
executive.
At the house I told Jude I couldn't hand him my plans for the year, as
I felt it was his way of controlling what the label did for me or not. I
expressed my distrust for his new position and said I would prefer he
did not interfere with my dealings with the label. He got really mad,
said he was the one who made me who I was and that I had no right
to tell him what he could or could not do. I said I had also made the
label what it was in that moment and I had the right to demand how
my work was handled. A few weeks later, it was time for the release
of my second single. As soon as the song was released on the
internet, I went on to download a copy. I found that the first twenty
seconds of the song had been removed. The music started to abruptly
that it destroyed the entire song, I mean how could a song start
without its intro and first line of the chorus. I made cal to the office
of the label, and demanded they pull down the song, the IT guy there
said he wasn't sure what happened, that maybe it was the software
that uploaded the song that way. I said it wasn't possible. The
software would most likely upload the beginning of the song and cut
out the end, not the other way round.
In that moment, when the song was being pulled down and re
uploaded, I got an email from Jude addressed to myself and a few
other executives on the label, stating that the song could pull us into
a copyright war, as JJ who had produced it took samples from
another popular song to make the instrumental. I knew immediately
who had re edited my song and removed the first twenty seconds; on
the day of release. I replied the message asking if that was why the
song was defaced, without anyone taking it up with me first. Without
thinking about the implication it could have on my career. The CEO
replied me instead, saying that it was alright, and that everything
would be resolved. I had heard that line many times before that day,
and I knew that nothing would be done. I had stepped on the toes of
these powers that be, and I was going to be made to pay the price.
 20

(Only Ebim knows)

I was sure Ebim was out to get me. We had been seeing each other
for years and she decided to get pregnant just when I was trying to
settle down and make something of my career. My body language
must have told her I was trying to not see her again, after our last
encounter. It was also difficult for me to believe hat she was really
pregnant, and that it was for me. I told her to call my mother, as it
was impossible for me to do anything about the situation. I was
furious, the time was just wrong and I hated that it was all happening
at that time. I called my mum and informed her what had happened,
she said it was good news. For her the prospect of having a grand
child was all that mattered.

Ebim never called my mum, she stayed away until the child was
born. I ne we saw her during her pregnancy, she never called or
texted. I got a call from Tala, who informed me of the birth of the
child and made a joke about how the baby looked like me. We both
laughed and he said it was a girl child. It didn't take long before I
was in touch with Ebim, I asked her to make herself and the new
born available so we could do a paternity test. It was important to me
that I was clear about the child being mine or not. On the day we
were supposed to meet, Ebim never showed up. She didn't pick her
calls, neither did she call back all day. My father was present at
hospital where we were supposed to meet, along with a friend of his.
I returned to town to continue my work and life.

About a month later, Ebim called me to say that she was ready for
the paternity test, I turned down her invitation, I was really busy at
the time and suggested we did it some other time. She never called
me back afterwards. Up to the time I was writing this book, over six
years later, I had not heard from Ebim. I now assume the baby is not
mine.
21

(The outsider)

It had become clear that my purpose was beginning to clash with

that of Jude's. the main reason he brought me in was not to make
profit, but to build an army for himself. He wanted to invest in
others, just so they could in turn stay loyal to him. From where I was
standing, it was all business. I did not think it made sense to expect
anything else in return in business that wasn't money. After uttering
that he made me, it all sounded to me like he wanted god status over
me, and it all felt wrong. I had come unto the label and carried out
the tasks I had been told I was needed for, "we need someone who is
from these parts to deliver to us this market, you people in the south
always prefer music from here anyway", said Jude to me during one
of our earlier conversations. I told him it didn't matter, that people
loved his work after all , and there were several other artistes who
didn't speak the local language of the south-west that were still
relevant.

Within six months, candy records had risen to the top position
among record labels, partly because of the music we were putting
out and also the fall of one of the top label at the time. More-Tunes
Music fell apart when the top two acts had a fall out and couldn't
resolve their differences. Around that period, I and cold bars were
making waves and that immediately shifted attention to us.
However, the energy that came with such attention almost tore us
apart immediately, It did actually. I had always blamed the label for
letting it all happen. Unlike More-Tunes, we had a label that
consisted of bankers and lawyers, none of which made music. More-
Tunes had a boss who was the producer, and his deputy who was the
top act on the label. We had the opportunity to right their wrongs by
keeping the balance between the business and the art. The move by
Jude to join the ranks on the business side started the rift between
me and him. Also, because we all had separate contracts with the
label, it was imperative that the dealings with each of us were treated
separately, but because Jude had his eyes on what More-Tunes had,
he built his ambitions around controlling the rest of the artistes on
the label, a model that was doomed to fail. The only guarantee to his
success was to have the rest of us compromise our careers for him,
something I refused completely to do.

Candy records was in the music business to make money of course.

The squabble between myself and Jude didn't deter them from their
dream, as it was suppose to be. The CEO agreed to put out my
album, which I had completed its recording without proper
remuneration to the producers. The label had failed to pay the
contractual advance that was needed. I discussed with my manager,
who was also a cousin to one of the executives, and we agreed to
pay the producers from sales of the album. The standard practice
was to have a distributor come in and listen privately to the project.
We then discussed the price he would agree to pay in advance to
own the right to distribute the work for a period. Afterwards, monies
were then paid to some of the producers who worked on the album. I
refused the suggestion by the label to have a big launch for the
album as I was sure It would put me in debt. I didn't trust that they
would be honest when the time came to collate royalties, after what
had happened with my song that was re edited and defaced before
release.
I visited the home office of the label once, I sat in the office of the
CEO to discuss promotions and other workings to help boost my
album project. He turned the screen of his computer around to show
me an email inquiring my appearance and performance in a certain
European country. He told me about how so many people liked me
in those parts. I read the mail in which the inquirer's tone insisted it
was me he wanted for the proposed gig. I knew then that there was
more to the conversation, and scrolled up the page. I found another
mail right on top of that, sent to him by the CEO, suggesting cold
bars or Jude instead of me for the gig. " why don't you go for these
other guys, they much bigger than him", the mail read. Almost as if
he knew I had read beyond what he wanted me to see, the CEO
quickly turned the screen away from me, he didn't say anything
about the page I was viewing. I didn't have the time to scroll back to
the message he initially asked me to read, I was sure he saw that I
had seen the other message. I rounded up the conversation by saying
that I was looking forward to the opportunity to tour abroad, and left.

At that point, I had stumbled on too much to know that I was

threading on dangerous grounds. There were a lot of times meetings
were held between the label and the rest of the crew, without me
being invited. JJ would then say something days after that would
point me to the fact of the occurrence of such meetings. It bothered
me because it wasn't safe to be left out in a circle like that. I knew
also that I was very ambitious, but I had always only built my
ambitions around my own efforts. I respected the pint of view of
others and only asked for help when I had worked out how to repay
my helper. However I started to notice that people wanted you to
owe them, and not be able to pay back. Maybe it was a way to make
sure you remained in their lives, or whatever other reasons they
might have. I was sure that when you paid your debt, you win more
of the trust of your creditors. I knew that I was in some kind of
systematic slavery, even though I was getting some money from
performances and gifts from friends who were caught in the aura of
my fame, I would continue to exist in the shadows of my peers.

I had a contract to finish however, and despite the fact that the label
still insisted that I appear as a part of a crew, more than as an
individual entity, I knew the contract was binding and I was devoted
to carrying out my duties till the end of the term. I spoke less and
less to Jude, Focusing more on my work and making as much profit
for myself and the label. I had the opportunity to tour the U.S with
one of the foremost acts in the music scene. "3way" was a veteran
and one of the most talented acts in the mainstream. The tour
features the main act himself, cold bars, JJ and me. The events on
the trip further complicated my relationship with the label. First we
had no manager or crew to fly with us, just us three out there to
handle ourselves. It didn't seem to matter instantly because we were
men and were ready to work. After we landed America however, it
got harder to function. The organizers of the tour also were
unorganized. 3way and his manager assured us we were going to get
work permits when we arrived the US, There were artistes who were
barred from traveling because they didn't have work permits and
went on to take gigs and perform in some western countries. We
arrived America without the permits and even did a number of
shows. 3way had his permit, and that made me even more furious.

In the midst of all of our ordeal abroad, contacting our people back
home became necessary. The CEO, we were told was out of the
country, and nothing could be done in that time. Jude had excluded
himself from the tour. I was sure it was because he didn't want to go
on tour as an extra for 3way, he probably wanted his own exclusive
outing. I had a booking by a popular Nigerian comedian for a gig in
the U.K, and halfway into the American tour I had to fly out to
London. The night before my flight out of JFK, I lost my wallet on
the way to the hotel from one of the gigs. It contained my credit
cards and money. I raised some money from cold bars, JJ and 3way.
I made my way to the airport, London was a better destination.
 22

(Homecoming)

The streets of okaka town had become more narrow, more shops had
been erected by the roadsides. Most of the spaces in which we
played football now contained businesses. The potholes were bigger
and water from the recent rain lodged in them. Waste water from
other places also seen to have joined the mixture, one could see
green algae forming in the pools. When I was a boy, some of the
tenements would release their waste water into the streets, most cited
lack of available funds to employ the services of a waster disposing
company. My house too was guilty of the same crime. The juncture
that led to Kunle's gym was also covered in a green, slimy water,
lodged in somewhat large potholes. I drove through it after I was
told it wasn't deep enough to swallow the car.

I had mixed feelings returning there. The memories of old times

came flooding back to me, reminding me of the good times I had had
there with friend. The playing in the streets, my Arabic school days,
evening classes during the period I wrote my entrance exams into
the higher institution. My university says, just before the dropout
saga. It also felt uncomfortable as it was no longer the town I grew
up in. The uncaring attitude towards cleanliness had become worse,
the roads had become smaller as landlords, in the quest the make
money built ships everywhere, crowding the streets with small
businesses. Everyone was competing for the small market share that
there was. I walked into the shops of some of the people i knew who
happened to still live there, most were pleasantly surprised to see
me, others were in shock. They had only been seeing me on the
television, and didn't know how to react to my being there.

I drove about ten minutes to Tala's house, his friends were all in
attendance as we wined and dined. All evening we drank and ate and
the music was loud and fast. More and more of them owned cars and
breezed in with a dame on their arms. Pretty young girls in their
prime, with tight skin and waists that wriggled like it was no crime.
Many of them had had their skin bleached, you always stood a better
chance at catching the eye of the boys if your skin was lighter. The
darker girls were not so confident, and the ones who were had to be
more aggressive to get attention. This particular trend was the same
even the city, a phenomenon I was quite curious about. Someone
once told me it was so because the slave masters had beaten it into
us to accept that white was better than black. So we aspire to become
better, to become white. Our men now prefer their women to be light
skinned, and the women gladly oblige to this demand. I however do
not accept this analogy as I am sure that it is us who are simply
attracted to being fair of skin. It is more attractive and catches the
eye faster.

It was a few days after Christmas, and our little party lasted into the
night. More drinks were flowing from Tala's freezer, and guests
arrived to down it all. The number of boys who were in the internet
fraud business had grown immensely since my departure to chase
fame and fortune. Conversations were being made about who and
who just got a new car, who just moved into a new apartment. Who
jut acquired a piece of land and so on. I spoke to Tala briefly about
Ebim, he said she now lived with a pastor, he thought they were
married. I said the pastor probably impregnated her, he laughed and
said what if it was me. I said I had t heard from her, that of the child
was mine, she wouldn't keep it away from me still. We talked further
about he good old days, shared some of our Arabic school
experiences and relived those moments in words and mental
pictures. The party was slowing down as it was getting dark, I had to
appear at the end of the year celebration put together by the
association of youths, the big street party was happening on Main
Street that night. People started to leave in small groups, everyone
had somewhere else to be. I knew most of them would end up on
Main Street later, a handful shook ha Dd with me and even
mentioned it. Some took pictures on their cellphones, saying they
had to show someone else that I came to town.

Main Street had barely changed, I suspected it was because the road
was tarred all those years. The shops remained where they were
since I was a boy, the gutters kept them away from the main road.
The road was the link between okaka and other towns around the
area, I was told by Kunle that local government had plans to expand
it even. I picked Kunle up on my way back from Tala's, I parked at a
fair distance from the scene of the street party, on a quiet bit safe
street. I had not been to okaka town since the big hit with cold bars, I
wasn't sure of how intense the reaction will be from the people I had
not seen in years. Kunle assured me I was in for a surprise. We
walked a few blocks took a bend out into Main Street. First I saw
people hanging on the railing of closed stalls, some smoking hemp
and drinking beer. The music was loud, as expected. I saw a stage
and lights on it in the distance. More people scattered around the
place as the crowd got thicker, the closer we got to the main
grounds. Most people didn't spot me at first, I had a hoodie on and
my disguise worked pretty well, I suspected it was because they had
not seen me in a while and didn't know what I'd look like or even
dress like.

One of the organisers, whom I had called on our way met us in time
and led us to the corner where I would sit and wait for my turn to get
on stage. Local talents flooded the place, the smell of marijuana and
gin filled the air. Okaka town had produced some fairly popular
artistes in the past, before me. Some of them were known in the city
and even across the country. I met Mr Soul, who was one of them.
He made me comfortable and demanded I got whatever I wanted. He
said he was surprised I could honour the invitation, considering how
famous I had become. He thought I would be too busy to make time
for something so trivial as a steeet party. I told him it was important
to me to return and be part of it all, I didn't tell him that I was doing
it to identify with okaka town because it was good for my image.
Having people from there talk about me being one of them would
always get me more fans, even from all the neighboring
communities, especially areas that didn't have popular stars of their
own. Mr Soul didn't waste time to inform me the importance of
joining the performing artistes association, of course, he said it'll be
better if I joined from the grassroots, so that ppl in the city would
know that I represented my town to the fullest capacity. I told him I
had already registered with the headquarters in Ikira.

The MC read and epistle about how I started small, just a boy from
the streets of okaka. He carried on about how massive my fame had
become and blew it off the top by screaming "give it up for okaka
towns finest"... the crowd suddenly started to get bigger as I stepped
on stage. Everyone who sat in front of closed shops walked closer to
the stage area, hundreds of people gathered in front of me, and the
Dj played one of my popular songs. I spent the next 15 minutes
talking with crowd and miming to the next song. As soon as my
performance was over, the crowd started to move in whatever
direction I moved. No security was hired and so I was without any
form of protection form possibly being mobbed or even mugged.
Mr Soul, Kunle and a few others tried to keep the crowd away from
me, and somehow, with haste, I made into the house of one of the
organisers. A large crowd gathered outside and people insisted they
w ayes to see their famous friend. I would gladly come out to take
pictures and shake hands, but sheer number of people I had to deal
with was enough to make me have a rethink. After almost thirty
minutes, someone suggested I took a backdoor out of the place. I
made my way to my car, with Kunle close by and then dropped him
off at his place. It was way past mid night as I headed back to Tala's
place, tala was driving behind me. A little more drinking and
smoking and then I hit sack, the visit to the place I was raised had
been successful, and I would be on my way when in the morning.
 23

The scarcity had gone on for days. The queues just appeared
wherever there was petrol. The owners hired the police for crowd
control, people got beaten and locked up for disorderly conduct
when they didn't stay in line, or got too excited and started a fight.
People treated everything like an apocalypse in lagoon city, even
those who had enough for the week still pulled their kegs, the
scarcity got worse because some people were hoarding the goods,
just so they never run out and had to depend on someone else. The
government always never seemed to have a clear understanding of
what the situation was, and how to create a lasting solution for it.
Fuel scarcity like it was popularly called had become one of the
numerous phenomenons plaguing Nigeria.

The crude oil, through and agreement with government is lifted to be

taken abroad and refined. In fact, the government and its cronies sell
the crude oil to the foreign multinationals. The country earns directly
from this transaction, such that the crude oil returns made up for
over seventy percent of the country's income. However the crude oil,
after its refined, all of the very many products made from it are then
sold back to us. This was what people said about the state of the
economy. I also heard that the government was paying to subsidies
the products, that a liter of petrol always cost less than it should. The
government was literally paying part of the cost of the gas we used.

People constantly wondered why the refineries never worked, I had

always thought it was simply because the technology to make it
happen was not ours. It might not be such a sweet deal for our
costumes, who owned such technology to want to teach us how it's
done. Maybe we ought to make good of our position and reinvest
our income into ideas that can propelled us into the future.
On the sixth day of the scarcity, president johnny Anthan came on
national television to inform everyone that everything was being
done to restore order in the sector. People made mockery of his
speech on the internet as usual. He had been labeled "the lame
president" by some of the topmost politicians around the country.
Word on the street was that he was not fit to handle the rigors of the
office, unable to deliver on the international front, that he didn't ha e
the exposure and didn't event look presidential. Every time Anthan
came out in public, people always found something wrong with his
presence. They picked on the type of shoes he wore, how he kept his
hair, they wondered if he was drunk while addressing the nation.
They thought of him as an anomaly and there was constant side talks
about how an ordinary professor came from the classroom to the
presidency, along with his petty trader wife.
** I know that a leader is always the mirror through which the
people being led are seen. The leadership is a direct representation of
the true nature of the society they lead. I maintain that the Nigerian
people are as uncaring and lazy as the leadership. The governments'
failure is found in the constant neediness of the people. Many
depend on the public office holder to connect them to quick
government money, the politician gladly complies to this system, as
long as the people are happy. It means less work for him, and more
votes still. A people who are not accountable in their own personal
lives couldn't be looking to have leaders who do. ***

Anthan had been sworn in after the untimely demise of the then
president Usmi Ali, whose Vice President he was. Anthan had been
endorsed by Nuges as the solution to the crisis in the oil rich south-
south region. Nuges believed that having the Vice President from the
region would quell the rebellion, and the people there would have a
direct mouthpiece inside the government, at the very top for that
matter. Usmi Ali was rumored to have been sick with a terminal
illness. During the campaigns we were told he had been flown out of
the country a number of times, for quick treatments. People were
saying that Nuges had plans to install a south-south President, but
the north was not down with the plan as they insisted that the
presidency had to return to them after Nuges. I told JJ once how it
was worrisome that a country's leadership was decided by the region
of origin of the candidates to be voted into federal office..

Nuges had gone on and agreed to return power to the north, and the
north also agreed to a VP from the south-south. Before long
President Usmi was taking constant trips abroad for treatment. One
also wondered why the country couldn't afford the infrastructure and
man power to look after its leaders here at home. How could there
not be one hospital in the country that could handle whatever health
issues the present and his family might have.... The rumors became
true barely two years later, president Usmi died on one of his
numerous medical trips. The people of the country again carried the
rumor that he had died, days before the government said a word.
Fear was in the air, people wondered if the north would let Anthan
become president as directed by the constitution. It was his rightful
role to be president, as the commander in chief had passed on.
Within twenty four hours of the death of Usmi Ali, Anthan was
surprisingly installed into his rightful office. The fear of a coup
started to subside. Most people wondered if the north would be
furious at Nuges for playing them. I also wondered if it was all part
of a grand scheme of another sort.

I started to write for my next album. I wanted to explore more

meaningful stories, to establish a connection between my music,
myself and my society. I thought of the beauty it would be if I made
an album where the songs could have meaning to the urban
population, and even some of the not so urban areas could be
captured. As long as they had schools and hospitals and the
occasional electricity that we all got. And a few bars..
I had been reading more, finding information about slavery; its
origin and general history. I wanted to understand better the
relationship between people, how it should be in relations to how it
is. I wanted to write about all of those things, in relations to the
reality I had found myself in. My work, personal life and the state of
the polity must all be reflected there in.

I wanted to play a role as an artiste, to start conversations that could

open people's minds. The music scene had been supporting dance
music more, although this was expected because music was barely
selling itself. Artistes were depending on other big businesses who
needed entertainment to attract costumers. The price an album was
distributed for made it impossible for labels and musicians to do
business. No trusted royalty structure was in place to also boost
income for recording and performing acts. The distribution was also
a makeshift, cds were only sold in traffic, making it hard to clearly
see what was original and what was fake. Many artistes survived by
whatever means they could apply their fame, paving way for direct
or indirect participation of the entertainment industry in corruption.
The arrival of the internet had of course opened a different angle to
the music market, but the failure to deal with the piracy that plagued
the cd distribution had transferred online. Music was shared for free
every other day, with or without the permission of the artiste or his/
her label/management.

I knew that the quality of the music and professional comportment

of the people in the sector were the roots of the problems the music
industry faced. The conversation of how to make the music generate
more income had always been treated lightly, more and more artistes
ran into debt in the process of furthering their careers. Everyone
seemed to think that the big buck was around the corner, like one
didn't have to sell records and concerts to be a successful singer/
entertainer. More and more people actively or inactively participated
in money laundering activities, just so they could survive.

I opened my laptop and began to write a song about an unbothered

old man, who failed to pass down his knowledge of yesterday, for
the benefit of those coming behind him, because of greed and desire
to control everyone and everything. Of a young girl, who has no
interest in knowing, just because society said her place was in the
kitchen. She let the fear stop her from soaring. A song about those
who remember too much, and those forgot it all, and the other
people who found a balance, and ruled the world.
 24

(Small army, big war)

Back in days when Rolly was still my manager, I had come across
another management company online. They had an office in the hub
of the city and had a lot of big names signed to them. I told Rolly to
check them out, I was sure we could learn a thing or two from them.
After speaking to one of their sales executives, Rolly arranged a
meeting at their home office. The sales executive we met with
became my fan instantly, he said he had never heard anything mine
my using in a while. Although his company was not signing up any
new acts, and I already had a manger in Rolly, he offered to help in
whatever capacity he could. Few months later he gave me a slot to
open for my first major gig. After Rolly and I started having
problems, during the time I made my first major video that prompted
my untimely departure from school, I called Ola to handle publicity
for my work. I rode a bus to his house and was there for weeks, in
the end he managed to get me interviews on a few radios and a
major appearance on television. Although I expected more and even
felt he wasn't as efficient as I had previously thought, but it still felt
like more progress in such a short period, compared to Rolly. Ola
told me it was really hard to plug in new acts.

Later, when I made the move to candy records, I called him to break
the good news and he was indeed happy for me. I informed him I'll
be needing a manger, and with his experience, I was sure he was the
best for the job. He told me then that he had left his former
employers and had started his own management outfit, everything
was looking good. If Ola were still working with his company, it
meant that I had to sign with them to make him my manager, his
departure from there meant that I was only getting into a contract
with him directly, and he had more decision making capabilities as
he was the head at his new business. I wanted to fix the problem I
had with Rolly, I needed a manger who didn't answer to anyone else
but me, Ola was perfect for the job and I was looking forward to
working with him. However during the one year period that I did pro
bono work for candy records, I started to feel like i had to be more
careful. It was one thing to not have Rolly related problems, but
other problems could emerge. I needed to make the most of the
opportunity I had found, which was a miracle as the people I was
now with didn't speak my mother tongue. I was worried that I could
easily create division within the gathering by bringing my own
people in. Jude Jones had mentioned a number of times that me and
my people were a little more about ourselves, that we always
preferred our own.

I changed my mind about bringing Ola in as manger and instead

settled for Masim, Masim was cousin to one of the executives on
candy records. I picked him partly because I wanted to keep
everything how I had met it, I felt signing me up was going to
change a lot of things, for me, and for them also. For me it's a whole
new exposure, I wanted to learn as much as possible about the
workings of the place before bringing in a staff of my own, to avoid
some of the problems I had working with Rolly. It would be a
disaster if brought in someone and they started working for someone
else. I knew that if I created a space for myself, then I could control
the roles my manger played. Masim was however a part of the
establishment, long before my arrival. Having him with me meant
that I could depend on his knowledge of the place, and because he
was related to the owners, I could seem more like family to them as
well. For candy records, my presence could mean more strength, or
chaos. When you introduce a new entity into an already established
and organized system, the system is immediately strengthened or
weakened, I wanted to be their strength and not their downfall.

I called Ola, and we agreed to meet. It had been three years since I
spoke to him. The court summons from candy records could not stop
me, I was to immediately start recording for my new album. Masim
naturally had to follow his heart, and be a good cousin. I offered him
twenty five percent of my earnings if he would continue to work
with me, he said he couldn't if I was no longer with candy records.
Ola met me and we discussed in detail what was going on. He said
he was up for it. I knew the journey was going to be turbulent, I told
him the people we were up against would play dirty. He said as long
as I knew what I was doing, he would back me for it. We went
through the summons together, and I pointed out the areas where we
could counter attack from. I was sure I didn't need a lawyer because
I knew the label had been in breach many times. I couldn't also hire
a lawyer as it would be huge expenses on my pocket. Also the
system was rigged, paying for a lawyer would only further
complicate my situation, in Nigeria, the only people more corrupt
than lawyers were the politicians. Some of the owners at candy
records were actually lawyers, naturally they would be in touch with
the judge while I was busy making a proper case.

I found I could represent myself in court after Ola made the

necessary inquiries. I started to write down my points. The case
looked to me like an opportunity to turn society around, to talk about
really important issues affecting me and many other artistes in the
country. I also got in touch with Michael, it was time to start
recording. He expressed worries about the things he had heard in the
news, I told him to worry less and pay more attention to the music, I
told him that as long we didn't stop doing what we are doing, the
universe will move with us, and the tides will turn for us.
Ebun was my greatest gift of all. She was there all day, everyday.
Even when she was at her own place, which was only maybe for a
day, when she had to take care of personal business errands, we were
always on the phone. We went to most places together, always
stayed indoors together, she made it impossible for me to think too
much about the troubles hanging over my shoulders, just by being
around.
 25

(The summon)

Ebun was a walking goddess, I could never be able to adequately

talk about the effect she had on me. Over six foot tall, she owned
every space she walked into. Fire of my loins, I could go on and on,
all night long, possessing her soul. Possessing her body. We had a
fire, it burned with the fierceness of unrestrained desire. There were
days when we would find out that we had been locked in for days,
smoking marijuana, and having even more sex. When I had to go on
a trip for work, I always made to sure she was the last person I saw
before leaving for the airport, she even dropped me off many times.
We didn't talk about how we felt, we just felt it.
I met her at a party. I was invited by a mutual friend, whose story is
irrelevant to this text. I saw her sitting amongst her friends, she stood
out without a doubt, and she stayed on my mind even as I was
leaving the party later. While outside waiting on the driver, who
thought I would be at the party for longer and had gone on a
personal errand, she walked past, she was also on her way out. I also
went to the party with a younger friend, whom I tasked with quickly
catching up with Ebun, I wanted him to get her number. From the
distance I saw Ebun wasn't pleased with the fact that I had sent
someone, I quickened my pace, what was I thinking sending
someone to help me find love.
Ebun gave me her number. I called her right there to make sure she
got mine too.

The brown envelope contained an almost fifty pages thick summon,

neatly placed inside, and handed over to me by the courier, an errand
boy from the firm hired by candy records to sue me for contract
breach. He smiled at me, I couldn't believe it. The man who was
handing me documents that could end my career was laughing at me.
He said he was a big fan, I asked if he knew what was in the
envelope, he said he did. I shook my head and made no comment
about what he said about being a fan. I couldn't be mad at him after
all, he was only doing his job. I also couldn't help but feel he was my
enemy, after all I was being sued by the law firm he was with. Ebun
sat up when I walked back into the room. I dropped the envelope on
the edge of the bed. She picked it up and asked how bad it was. She
pulled out the bunch of papers and started rummaging through them.

I joined her, and before long we were taking about the case. I told
her it was better to leave, so I could face it all by myself. I said it
would be very rough and I didn't want to taint the memories we
shared. I didn't know how it' would be to have her there when the
sky started to fall. I wasn't even sure how I would survive on my
own, having her with me meant I had to look out for her too, and I
was afraid I wouldn't be able to. Ebun told me to not worry about
her, she said she would stay and help me with whatever I needed
through the period. Unlike most other people that I had to cut off,
Ebun was different, that made it harder to let her go. I kissed her on
the forehead, and was grateful she wanted to stay.

Before the arrival of the summon, few months before, to be precise,

I had lodged the demanded to see the reports on my royalties with
the label. The label manager sent an incomprehensible statement.
She basically typed a few numbers on a program and sent a copy to
me. I replied that I wanted to see reports as sent in by the partners, as
that was a more transparent thing to do. The label insisted there were
no separate account for my works, that the label handled all project
finances through one account, they then separate the numbers using
records sent to them by the partners, sieving out each item, for each
artiste, and the numbers they sold. Some of the records were even
missing. Putting all of such reports in a joint account made it
impossible for individual, easy tracking of the records, It was
impossible to hand me the entire sheet as it also contained records of
other people's finances. I didn't understand, I knew that the acts on
the label had individual contracts, therefore there ought to be
separate records and accounts for their projects, in the absence of
which there must then be a clear way to track the numbers, sent it by
the partners, on separate artistes.
A meeting was put together, I met with one of the executives and the
general manger. While trying to find ways to access reports on my
earnings, they broke the news that I was owing the label. It was my
contractual obligation to pay for half of the cost for producing music
videos, and a certain percentage of cost for promotional events. It
was also my role to pay for the recording of the masters, all monies
would be deducted from my later royalties, as we were doing on that
day. I argued a few points, cancelling with some of the monies they
also owed me. In the end, I had no royalty left, almost every money I
had with them had to be payment for what I owed. In that moment I
started to re-access my relationship with the label. I remembered
clearly how I had made them money and got little or nothing in
return, just on my arrival. I remembered that I had managed to
record an entire album without a kobo paid in advance as demanded
by the contract. I remembered that the label had failed to even put a
team together to discuss and plan for the project, instead I had gone
on and recorded a full album before we ever had talks about
releasing an album. I also remembered the sabotage that happened
when my song was chopped just before release. I started to think
they only cared for themselves.
I had met with the CEO, a few weeks before the royalty saga broke
out. He told me then that things were tight, that as a family we
needed to protect each other. He said the label had projects to push
for the other artistes, and it would be helpful if I could foot the bill
for music videos in the future. The breach of contract in his
statement reeked so bad that it left me confused. It already meant I
would go on and record the next album on my own like the first
time, plus I had to seek financial help elsewhere to be able to make
music videos. The label was simply transferring its duties to me,
while executing the contract for their rightful share of earnings. I
thought about it and decided maybe it could be done, I could take
back half of the cost of the video from them when money came in
from gigs, I would also charge them for song writing, studio time
and the rest of production; mixing and mastering fee, something I
had failed to do the first time. The only problem
 I had was I still did not have access to the actual numbers my record
or ringtones were doing, as reported by the partners. If I was going
to run around for money to execute my next project, I needed to
have full knowledge of how the money flowed in and out of the
enterprise.
The Demand to see the reports therefore came as a result of that
meeting. The failure to provide a clear report meant that I was
walking deeper into the dark. It didn't matter if the label was doing it
as a means to hide something, or they just failed to put it into
consideration, it was happening, and something needed to be done
immediately. Considering that a lot of the conversations I had had in
the past over whatever issues, with the label didn't yield any results,
I was not ready to go through the same experience anymore. Another
executive called me on the phone and said they were doing what
they could, I told him it didn't matter, that I was leaving the contract.
The finances to make a case was something I didn't have, it was
going to be a bigger mistake if I had sued. The legal system was too
corrupt, the case would be in court for years, in the end someone
who thought of themselves as very important would show up and
ask us to let it go, then I would become an asshole because I would
insist I wanted justice. Walking away was better, they could call me,
we could actually work out our differences, and continue our
journey, I was only leaving because they never took our agreements
seriously. Better still they could sue for contract breach, and I would
have my day in court. It would not be a problem proving to the court
that they indeed were in breach, because I would only have to
appear in court whenever was needed, I could take the little money
and time I had left to make music, to continue what I was there to do
in the first place.

The CEO insisted he didn't want any drama around my exit. That I
didn't trust the label enough to take me where I was going, and that it
was bad for him and his team to be working with an artiste like me.
He said he would issue a statement of release in a few days, that I
should please stay away from the media houses. I said I didn't want
the press in the matter, and that I didn't court any media people, I
couldn't leak a story that concerned me so much. The day we talked
about arrived, I got back from the studio, I and Michael had a great
time establishing the technique with which my next album would be
produced. I walked into the sitting room area to find JJ's manager
holding a newspaper, he handed it to me as soon as I walked in. "
singer grew wings, and plans to ditch the label that made him", the
headline was bold. In the news article, Jude and the CEO met with
the press and told them how they had taken me in and even clothed
me, and that things were different and I wanted to leave.

It took me two whole weeks to react to the news. The internet

buzzed with the gist of my fallout with the label. On that day, in the
second week, I went online and broke the news of my own. " it is
true, I am no longer signed to the label". The internet broke this
time. A lot of people said they were sure I had gone crazy. They said
it was the marijuana. In the two weeks before my outburst, I had met
with the law firm representing candy records, they wanted to know
what I needed. I said I wanted a hundred percent of the rights to the
album I released with candy records returned to my name, as I had
recorded the album independently. I also demanded a statement of
release from the contract. It became clear the CEO had tricked me
into waiting for nothing, in the time it took him to decide to go to the
press to scare me into staying. I had confronted the label after the
news leaked, they insisted it wasn't them, the CEO even swore
nobody from his company did it.The lawyers told me they couldn't
let me have the album, that they could issue a statement of release
immediately if I let the album go.
 26

(The Lagoon Bandwagon)

More and more artistes got on stage daily miming to their own
record. I also started out the same way, until I stared to feel a void of
some sort. I started to feel I wasn't worthy of the opportunity to stand
in front of people and say I was a musician. Part of the changes I
was going to make at work included starting a band, and ensuring
that I never performed again without my boys standing behind me.

The rigors of rehearsals and the general preparation a band had to

make was the feeling I needed. The challenges were numerous
however, first I had to deal with organisers, who were used to just
getting us on stage, shoving a microphone in our hand and installing
a disc-jockey to select the tracks. There was also the problem of
other artistes, who were also used to the miming business. It paid
better to mime, and also meant less work. Basically, the entire
system was against what I was starting, and I had also been miming
for a while, it was going to be a hard transition.

Ebun and I moved in together, the fracas between me and candy

records had become really big, I and JJ could no longer live together
as he was brother to Jude, who had become a top executive at the
label. I had pitched the idea of live performance to the label initially,
and they had been against it. Their reason being that the system was
established in the miming game and no one would understand if I
insisted I would only perform with a band, at all times. I argued that
we could influence the industry and that the idea was splendid, that
we stood a better chance at making more name and money for
ourselves if we became more professional.
I spoke to Uba, my guitarist friend who had also thought me how to
play. He agreed to help put a band together, I also convinced him to
play on it. Within a few weeks we already set up our first set of
rehearsals, Michael was also available as our front of house
engineer. The recording of my first independent album had gone
smoothly, despite the court case hanging over my head, I managed to
pull it of. The cost of recoding live was a lot, so we employed the
services of Uba during the sessions, and Michael handled everything
else, digitally. We managed to create an electronic album, with the
guitar as the main live instrument. Afterwards we started rehearsals
with the band, interpreting everything we did in the studio, for the
purpose of live performances.

Ebun had a business of her own, a fast food joint with a few
branches across town. She took care of the daily needs of the house,
even when she got pregnant and we were expectant parents, she was
still strong. We had arguments from time to time, about my future
mostly, I would assure her we would pull through. I would wonder
many nights how I got to that point where my future was now
hanging in the balance, I had the opportunity to build something new
and better, but I also ran the risk of loosing it all. The court was yet
to hear my case, i had been there on two separate dates and they
ended up adjourning again and again. I knew the case was going to
be there for a while, the corruption in the country didn't spare the
justice system after all. There was a story of a popular old Nigerian
musician who sued his label for infringements on his rights, the case
lasted almost twenty years. In order to not turn out like him, I took to
social media daily to talk about the case, ensuring that everyone was
in on the proceedings. The more people talked about it, the more
uncomfortable it made the authorities.

I called my band "the lagoon bandwagon", we met and rehearsed for

many weeks, immediately after the band was formed. Although we
didn't get a gig to perform at for many months, it was just necessary
to be prepared. The release of my album also met some very
powerful opposition, the court placed an injunction against its
release, as candy records had filed for one. They claimed that I had
no right to put out any materials, as I was still under contract with
them. This wasn't true, because I and the label had agreed to part
ways, they were the ones who failed to issue the proper document
and had subsequently failed to follow through with the agreement,
like they didn't comply to the terms of the contract itself. I had gone
on to record and release the album when it became clear they were
going to waste my time. Music was the only job I had, to not be able
to service my listener meant that my career had gone stale. The aim
on the part of candy records was to ensure I couldn't put out music
for as long as they wanted. The law, in my country always favored
the person who made the right phone calls. The judge would later
lift the injunction, asking me to go on with my work, as it was unfair
that I couldn't carry out my duties as an artiste while the case was
on. He said if the label came out victorious, I would be made to pay
the appropriate fine, that the relationship had already gone bad, he
didn't think I would ever want to work with the label afterwards, or
them with me for that matter.

Most people outside my circle only had the information fed them by
the press, who were obviously on the side of the guy who paid
better. I once had a chat with a few of them from the media, my
manager Ola had made the effort to put some money in their
pockets. They told me during the chat, all of the things the people at
candy records told them. That I was jealous of the success cold bars
had made for himself, and that I was lazy and only stayed home to
smoke marijuana. They said nothing to the press about the contract
we had and how they had failed to keep to their part in it. Most
people only cared that I had been brought into limelight by candy
records, and so I owed it to them to be loyal, no matter what. I would
share some of their sentiments, except that It didn't matter anymore
at that point, candy records was trying to drown me, and I needed to
stay afloat, and swim.
 27

(Interlude)

I met Anne not long after I found fame. She was older than me, but
we got along quite nicely nevertheless. She was a fan of my music
and wouldn't stop trying to meet me. A friend, who was also an
artiste eventually introduced us. I was in the sitting room with JJ
playing football on the play station console when she called me for
the first time. The call lasted almost five minutes, and I knew I was
going to be hearing from her again afterwards. Before long I started
visiting her house, she lived alone, with a few of her siblings coming
over from time to time. Anne was a great cook, she always made the
best dishes, it was always a feast when I visited her. There was
always a bottle of some very nice cognac waiting for me, sometimes
she even went the extra mile to arrange a few rolls of joint.
Anne was curvy, her soft skin was my weakness. I would run my
finger up and down the entire length of her back during our intimate
moments, dropping kisses here and there as I went. The swell of her
backside never missed my attention, I would fondle and slap them
playfully, making her giggle. The foreplay usually got more intense,
as I would go down on her, tasting the softness between her legs,
holding onto her soft breast as I did, keeping it going until she
trembled. She would then return the favour, taking the full length of
my sex in her mouth, making me so hard that it took all the
discipline I had to not spill the bean too soon. I would then slowly
find my way into her, she would grant me entrance of course, curling
herself around me with both legs, making sure I didn't get away. A
smooth gentle ride usually became more rhythmical and ferocious,
pulling at each other, taking from one another, climbing and
climbing. Anne was always the first to climax, and then I joined her
simultaneously. Holding on to each other through the glorious fall.
Anne knew I was seeing other women, and I knew she was also
seeing other men. The conversation never came up however, we both
seemed to just go with the flow, and it was all good, but just for a
while. She started to worry about us, she would complain about my
not caring enough, I found it difficult to understand because of how
we started. I knew she had grown fond of me, and expected that we
become closer. She would go through my phone and find messages
sent by other girls, she would get mad at me about it, I would tell her
the others were nothing. We usually ended up making love
afterwards.
Anne was no saint, one time I was on a trip with to Malaysia and it
was her birthday, since I wasn't in the country and we couldn't be
together, i decided to do a few things that could make her happy on
her day. I called on a friend to help arrange and deliver a nice
present, and I updated my status and profile picture on my chatting
app for her. A few minutes after updating my profile, I got a buzz
from cold bars, he asked how I knew the girl on my profile picture, I
told him she was my girl. He said that was his girlfriend. There I was
thinking about ditching other girls for Anne and she was seeing not
just anyone but cold bars. It was like she was sleeping with my
cousin. I confronted her and she said she had not heard from cold
bars in a while, that they didn't ha w anything going anymore.

Months later I was in London, cold bars was also on the trip. We
stayed in the same hotel. Anne had already told me she was on
vacation in London and so it was all good that we were there
together. After an all night party at one of the nightclubs, I returned
to the hotel believing Anne was right behind me, she said she had to
drop a friend off and then return to me. I took a few hrs for her to
show up. I was almost dozing off, tired from the drinking and loud
music when she called my room from the hotel reception. I was glad
she finally made it, she said her friend delayed her and planted a wet
kiss on my forehead, setting me off. Within a minute or so, we were
tearing each other apart, holding and touching. The longing was
intense for me, I had not seen Anne for almost two weeks. To my
surprise, she also felt the same way. Foreplay was minimal, and no
time she had straddled me, riding away like it was our last day, and
we needed to feel everything. Anne held on to me when her orgasm
hit, I poked into her eyes as I emptied myself inside her.
A few weeks after our return to lagoon city, Jude called a for
meeting. He said it had come to his attention that I and cold bars
were seeing the same girl, and cold bars wasn't happy. He said he
was also sure that cold bars had been seeing the girl before me, so it
was necessary that I stopped seeing her, as It was not such a good
thing that we both should be having a fight over a dame. I then asked
cold bars the last time he had been with Anne and he said she had
been with him back in London. Jat didn't make sense because she
was with me in London. Cold bars went on to tell the story of she
came to him after the club gig, and left his room at around five in the
morning. I then realized that I was almost falling asleep when she
came to mine, just before 5:30am. It turned out Anne was cheating
on cold bars with me, and vice versa. Eventually I stopped seeing
her, she would later go on and get married to someone else, I guess
she also got tired of the wild lifestyle.

A few weeks after our return to lagoon city, Jude called a for
meeting. He said it had come to his attention that I and cold bars
were seeing the same girl, and cold bars wasn't happy. He said he
was also sure that cold bars had been seeing the girl before me, so it
was necessary that I stopped seeing her, as It was not such a good
thing that we both should be having a fight over a dame. I then asked
cold bars the last time he had been with Anne and he said she had
been with him back in London. Jat didn't make sense because she
was with me in London. Cold bars went on to tell the story of she
came to him after the club gig, and left his room at around five in the
morning. I then realized that I was almost falling asleep when she
came to mine, just before 5:30am. It turned out Anne was cheating
on cold bars with me, and vice versa. Eventually I stopped seeing
her, she would later go on and get married to someone else, I guess
she also got tired of the wild lifestyle.
 28

(Adjournment and trials)

Justice Aba walked in and the entire courtroom stood up to welcome

him. I and Ebun sat in the back like we always did, it was our
umpteenth visit and we were getting used to the proceedings. The
cases were called in numbers, although I noticed the lawyers always
haggled about it. Older colleagues insisted their case be called
earlier, in order of who was called to bar first. I thought this was
unprofessional as they could have made the arrangement in the
chambers, so people like myself who knew noting about their
hierarchy wouldn't have to witness such show of shame. Lawyers
practically asked each other what year and month they were called to
bar, a case that should come up at number three could easily be
pushed down to number ten, just because there were more senior
colleagues in the room. My lawyer got into a fight the first day my
case was called, the lawyer heading the team representing candy
records was asking her what year she was called to bar, she flared
up, telling him " I am not your wife, don't talk down to me". Justice
Aba had to intervene, warning both parties to pay attention to the
case at hand, and avoid such small quarrels. My lawyer apparently
was making her first appearance at the high court and was trying to
make a statement, the lawyer for candy records knew it too and was
trying to give her the new comer treatment.
At the beginning of the day, I was telling Ebun how lucky we were
to have my case at number five, we were sure we would leave the
premises by noon. It turned out there were more than ten senior
colleagues present on that day, and we ended up in twelfth place
eventually. The judge miraculously had to adjourn by the time my
case came up, he gave us a new date of about two months later. I sat
there perplexed, Ebun held my hand. We had been coming to court at
least once a month for the last seven months, and the case had not
moved to trial yet, we thought this would be the day I would take the
stand and bear witness, as I was the sole witness on my side. After
the judge walked out and the courtroom started to clear out, my
lawyer told me that on the next hearing, we would move the motion
that would take the case to trial, and then the hearing after that
would be the actual trial. I looked from Ebun to Ola and we all
laughed, it was clear we would be in court till the end of the year.
The next week, candy records asked for another meeting. They
wanted to know how we could solve the problems amicably. I
attended, and was prepared to record the conversation on my
smartphone. On arrival at the home office of the label, one of the
executives took me into the conference room, along with a few
members of their staff and Ola in attendance. We talked about all of
the issues and I noticed they were also recording the conversation on
another smartphone. The executive kept asking me to retract some of
the comments I made on social media, saying that I had put the
reputation of their CEO in jeopardy. I told him I couldn't do that as
all I had said was the truth, taking it back meant I made it up in the
first place. After the injunction was lifted on my work, a few people
came along who were ready to invest and make my projects
successful, many of them would ask if it was okay and if they should
be worried about something. I told them it was alright, that
according to the court, candy records would be entitled to a certain
amount of money, if they won the case, that it was impossible that I
returned there. Many of the would be investors, in the hopes of
clearing the air would go to candy records and ask if they could
work with me, the CEO on many occasions threatened to sue if they
did. I then went online and posted on social media that the label was
actively mak my sure I didn't get opportunities for investments.
At the meeting at candy records, I had agreed to give the label ten
percent of all of my earnings for three years, if they would drop the
case. All they had to do was pull the plug on the case and put out a
statement saying that I was free to go, my works within that period
will give credit to them and their percentage will be certain. I would
reserve the rights to control the process of executing any and every
project, they would become like a silent partner, reaping from its
initial financial contribution to the works, something they didn't even
deserve, something they had not earned. We made notes and they
agreed to send a copy to my management, after which we would all
sign the documents and go back to business. Weeks after, no word
was heard from them. On several occasions, when my manager got
in touch with them, they gave excuses and promised to get back to
us soon. A few days to the next court day, they sent in an agreement
that was totally different t from what we had discussed. Naturally, I
and my small team threw out the agreement and prepared for another
day in court.
Trial still didn't come, the opposing lawyer noticed that my lawyer
had not made a certain document available as required by the court.
The judge said we could go on with trial and the papers could be
filed right after that session, the lawyer from candy records insisted
paper first, trial later. Another adjournment, another wait, although it
seemed the judge was also getting tired of the case, he mentioned a
few times that the case was wasting time as he knew the parties had
to go back to their jobs, that a case about business should not be kept
for so long, because it could destroy the morale of the people
involved, whom he was sure had families to look after and such. We
left the court feeling a sense of hope, that the case might not last
more than another few weeks, the judge adjourned for only two
weeks, insisting on a speedy trial.
 29

(Entropy)

My relationship was going through a rough patch of its own. Ebun

was having a hard time dealing with my method of handling things.
For some reason I was stuck on the idea that I could change things
within the entertainment industry, thereby influencing the larger
society and causing a great turn around in every sector. I believed
that the major problem was dishonesty. The level of trust was so low
and people were only interested in getting what they wanted in the
moment. No one seemed to be interested in what any other person
was going through. The social media space was constantly buzzing
with people complaining about this and that, looking for who to
blame. I knew that I could not go far trying to fix my own problems
alone, and therefore I had to find a way to solve collective problems,
thereby making a way for myself in the process. I also knew it was
going to be a long and tedious journey, which was why I asked Ebun
to let it go and let me deal with my situation alone.
Her insistence to stay with me through it all was welcomed because
we were at the peak of our love affair, and I couldn't just walk away
from it all. It was also good to know that someone was willing to
stand by me through the ordeal. After we moved in together
however, it wasn't as easy as she had thought it would be. There was
a need to rearrange how I worked, the need to be more professional,
something the industry was lacking. The bigger the opportunities
seemed, the less of it worked in favour of musicians. The big firms
were so attractive that artistes couldn't resist the urge to approach
them and settle for whatever deals they had to offer. The distribution
system was still not creating enough returns. Price per album,
compact disc or even online was too small to warrant huge
investments.

The conception of our son was also putting pressure on the both of
us. I wanted to only go on stage when it was a live show, as opposed
to miming to the song like I used to do. Ebun couldn't understand it,
she said I could solved that problem for later, when the court case
was over, but I knew that would make it all harder. It was better to
solve all the problems at once, such that when the court case was
done, I would be able to settle back into performing, and everyone
would know it must be live. I also was reluctant to take financial
help as I didn't know how to repay my investors back, it would be
detrimental if I took money from someone and couldn't pay back. I
wasn't sure my albums would make sales, especially because of the
pricing, plus the injunction had affected the sales of my first
independent album badly, I barely got any returns form my
investment. I therefore couldn't say for sure how the next album was
going to do.
Ebun had an old car she had not used in a while, we both used my
car. The car had been sitting in the premises for so long that the
wheels were getting rusty and it could barely move. I was looking
for money to return to the studio, I wanted to make another album.
We talked and decided we should sell her car, I took the money and
called Michael, a new album was on the way. Ola called me some
time later with the good news of one or two paid live gig. I was able
to reimburse Ebun for the hospital bills we had incurred. She was
unhappy, I could tell. Although she was strong, and we still managed
to laugh sometimes, even make out. We even drove out once, in the
night, naked, on the highway. We always had marijuana stashed in
the house, and we smoked as we drove to nowhere in particular. We
weren't afraid the police might stop us.

The biggest problem we had was that we didn't want to have the
child in that house, and I was not making enough money to put up
rent. Ebun saved up some money from her food business and
secured a new place, even in her condition, she still moved around
pretty well. Things had deteriorated between us so much that she
asked me to go find a place to stay after the rent had expired. I
helped her move into her new palace and started spending more time
at Ola's house. The baby was born not too long after she moved. I
was holding on to the thought that she had stopped loving me, so
much that I didn't see that she had changed because of the baby. I
even went after an old flame, seeking solace in the touch of another
woman. Ebun found out, and this was about two weeks before the
birth of the child. The list of my wrongs towards her only increased.
First I had let her down and was unable to provide adequately for
her, and then going after another woman. The struggle I was going
through made it hard for me to see clearly, and the woman I loved
was slipping away gradually.

The situation between I and Ebun would continue to suffer until the
end of this book. The birth of our son helped to mend things a little,
and I also started doing better at work. Ebun however had her eyes
set on living better, such that I was now chasing her standards. I
knew she was doing it for the child, to e sure that she provided better
for him, to make sure he was raised in a cleaner and more
comfortable environment. I also had my own grudge towards her,
insisting that she didn't care enough to see I was trying. Also she said
a few things to me during the period of her pregnancy that I couldn't
let go of, especially because she was acting on those things
afterwards. I had said hurtful things of my own back at her, and the
situation only continued to worsen.
 30
(Tabular Rasa)

When a child is born, it is without any experience, only instincts. At

least it can feel discomfort, we know this from when the doctors
smack its backside, an action needed for proof of life. Within a few
weeks it's eyes open and the infant can now recognize shapes and
people. They cry when they are hungry, smile when we smile at
them, probably start to have the image of the people they see the
most etched into their memory. It doesn't take long before we started
sitting, crawling, and even walking. Experiences start to accumulate,
and we start to pick up habits, start speaking whatever language is
spoken around be us, and gradually our lives start to take shape.

I am of the opinion that aside all of these influences, every

individual was born with a personality of their own, this is why we
all react differently to happenings in our lives. The failure of a parent
could spur a child to do better with his or her own life, while it could
damage the ability of another child to do same. Some children love
the outdoors than others and so on. As we come of age and start to
pursue our individual endeavors, we go into the world with all that
we have been thought, and all that we are. Constantly trying to
balance both, trying to decide to either live as we feel or as we have
been instructed to.
Our inability to clearly explain this phenomenal world has lead
mankind to the search of a supreme power, a creator. We feel we are
in control, but then we know we have nothing under control. Destiny
then became the word with which we describe the things we have no
understanding of. As we become older, some give up the search for
self, and submit to the teaching of others, namely the clergy or the
school. Society over time has created these systems, storing
information for use of those who crave one form of understanding or
the other. Although the availability of these numerous sources of
information has barely solved the problems of the mysteries of our
existence. Instead, the custodians of such information now find
themselves in possession of enormous power. The sheer number of
people flocking around them has bestowed upon them a status that
has led mostly to more confusion and corruption.
The actual difference between a child and an adult is the discovery
of desire. As soon as a child reaches puberty, everyone starts to point
fingers at him or her. We start to treat them with suspicion.
Conversations ensue about sex in more advance communities. In
not so advanced settings, warnings are issued on the perils of
chasing pleasure. Desire then becomes the driving force for
everything, those with an abundance of it will always find ways to
fulfill the yearning within them. Also adulthood include acquiring
and owning things. Later we start to find more pleasure in security,
and the company of those we love.

All the chaos in the world revolves around our day to day activities,
trying to make ends meet, and reaching our desired objects. There
will be no wars or quarrels if everyone stood in a place and didn't
move. The world would be at peace. This goal is however
unattainable, only the dead can afford to be still. I like to describe
our existence as a gas particles, within a closed space. Each on its on
own path, until it collides with another or the walls of the container
within which it is confined. The collisions are what we call war, or
any other form of disagreement that normally occur between us all.
When we fuse, which is usually temporarily, we call it love,
friendship.
For centuries, different forms of governments have been in play, free
lands became kingdoms, kingdoms have become nations. We have
gone from being ordinary gatherers to farmers/ hunters and then
white collar jobs. The era of male dominant has also shifted, women
now strongly require to play a role in the decision making process of
their lives. The days when one could marry out a daughter to
whoever one pleases are fast fading away, a girl is expected to get as
much education today as a boy. Man has also charted new courses in
science, we have found a way to get out of the box we have been
trapped in for so long, discoveries as reshaping our world and lives.
The freedom to choose, and be whatever one wishes has become the
language of the new world. The advancement in medicine has now
made it possible to change ones sex, the choice to either be a man or
woman is becoming more and more a thing an individual adult
volcanic decide. The choice of who to love is absolutely up to you,
how you find sexual gratification, it is now an absolutely beautiful
and free world. The popular choice of governance has become
democracy. We are gradually warming up to the concept of letting
go, letting whatever has ceased to serve our purpose go.

Despite all of our endeavors and aspirations however, time is passing.

We are all aging, just like the earth we live in. I have foundin history,
the constant changing of the symbols of civilization, to fitthe needs of
the people currently inhabiting this place. Nature gives us a different
perspective, separate from that of our parents, grantingus more speed.
It looks like progress, but it is just speed, and we aremostly going to
nowhere. The basic needs of every individual has remained constant.
Food to stay alive and healthy, hide to cover our naked parts, shelter
to protect us from the dangers of weather and ourselves. Nature also
gave us a mandate to populate, a thing we allover time start to
perceive to be a problem. All over the world, people are finding ways
to control birth, believing that we can have more stable lives if we
could plan everything, especially the numberof children we have.
Every one of us is steady trying to figure out why we are here, and
where we are going after we leave here. A great number of us still
believe in an afterlife, looking forward to judgement and paradise, or
hell. Some are talking about the unimportance of that concept,
claiming that It doesn't matter what the creator has in store for us after
we leave here, because we would never know until then, or thatthere is
no creator at all, and all of this is one big coincidence. I am one of
those who hold on to the old simple truth, that we came out ofnothing
into this, and we'll naturally slip into nothingness when it's all done.
So the child was born with no memory, and the aged die inthe process
of loosing all of the memory that has been made over a lifetime. The
circle of life is simple, we started out as blank slates, we'll end up just
as that.
 31

(The Bad Tooth)

The court clerk presented me with a bible and a Quran, asking if I

was a Christian or Muslim. I hesitated, I would gladly turn down
both books and ask to swear differently, but I couldn't shake off the
feeling that there was a conspiracy brewing over the case, the
Nigerian society was still very much a religious one, most people
either go to church or mosque, even the traditional worshippers were
looked down upon. Saying I didn't accept any religion, right there in
a courtroom would open a different angle to how I would be
perceived by everyone in attendance, I didn't Want to loose the case
because everyone suddenly didn't like me, and my lack of faith.
Already the rumor making rounds was that I was too rebellious, and
never listened. The judge, like my father was a Muslim, and the
lawyers, including mine were all christians. The conversation about
my choice of belief of lack of it all together must be left for another
time, I had been waiting for so many months, I just needed the trial
to be over.
I chose to swear by the Quran, then I heard the judge say that one
was forbidden to do so. I wondered why the book was there if it was
wrong to swear by it. Anyway I relieved I didn't have to, and so I did
saying " I swear to tell the truth, nothing but the truth, so help me
god". The lawyer representing candy records rose and walked to up
to me, I was in the witness stand. He pulled out a bunch of papers
from a big brown envelope and after driving through them for a few
seconds found what he was looking for. He asked why I had
breached the contract, I t of him I didn't, that the label did. He then
asked why I smoked marijuana, my lawyer interrupted him, say my
the question was out of context. The judge agreed with her, saying
that the case was about breach of contract and not drug use, that
unless the use of such substance was directly tied to an action that
amounted to a breach, then he could proceed with his question.
Candy records apparently didn't prepare for the case itself, they had
spent the last one year plus making a case around the sentiments of
signing me when I had no name that they had forgotten to prepare
actual facts about how and when I was in breach. The lawyer
continued to probe me, he asked how much was spent onrecordings
and videos, I gave him the actual numbers, already my Lawyer had
filed some of the documents with the court. After a few questions,
the lawyer had failed to drive home any point. He spent the entire
time trying to establish that I was lazy, or that I was envious of the
other artistes signed to the label. The entire courtroomwas
unimpressed, I heard people murmuring whenever he asked a
question. I had thought it would be really hard to go through the
examination, being the only witness in my own corner was a risk I
had taken, and I was happy I had done so. By the time he had
finished questioning me, he had proved to the court that candy
records was in breach than he had managed to establish that I was.
He quoted wrong figures for some of the monies candy records
claimed to have spent, I had corrected him and mentioned that the
receipts were in the documents my lawyer presented to the court.

When my lawyer rose to examine the witness from the label, she
asked her questions based on our discussions. I already told her that
the person picked out as a witness by the plaintiff was in fact new to
the label and had no idea of all that happened. The people who knew
enough to be of use to the case stayed away from the court. Neither
even Jude nor the CEO ever visited the courtroom in the almost two
years that was spent on the proceedings. The witness was the new
general manager the label hired on my way out, my lawyer asked
simple questions, like what year did the artiste sign on to the label,
how much did the label pay in advance to for the recording of the
artistes first album and so on, the answers were either vague or she
didn't know at all. My lawyer turned to the judge and said that the
answer to the questions were all in the documents she already
presented, and that the witness didn't have any idea what the contract
and workings between myself and the label was about, she said it
was disrespectful that the plaintiff didn't even prepare adequately for
the case.
Points were made, and therefore conclusions must be reached. My
lawyer and I had proven beyond any doubt that indeed the label had
been in breach, the judge went through his notes, he then asked the
candy records lawyer if he had any thing more to say before the
judge's final word, the candy records people gathered around each
other and then the lawyer said to the judge that he had lost
confidence in the proceedings and was sure the judge was biased.
The judge looked to my lawyer and asked for if she had anything to
say, and she said it was up to the judge. He's asked her again if he
should go on and pass judgement, she said 'as the court pleases'. I
was siting beside Ebun, as usual, she held my hand, we were both
waiting for it all to be over. It didn't even matter if the judge had said
we should go home and that the case was null and void, winning the
suit was not that important, never having to return to the courtroom
was more like what we were looking forward to.

I started to wonder why my lawyer was not asking the judge to give
his verdict, I couldn't shake off the feeling that all three of them had
had a different conversation behind my back. I didn't even think it
was right for a judge to seek the consent of lawyers to pass
judgement on a case that had just been tried. I sat there still, holding
hands with Ebun, Ola was sitting in a corner, not too far from us, we
were all waiting as the judge continued to scribble on his paper pad.
A few minutes later, he looked up and said "since the lawyers of the
plaintiff didn't have any trust in the proceedings, i'll be transferring
the case to another judge". I could not believe what I was hearing,
the judge had just backed down from giving a verdict, my lawyer
came out of the courtroom to where I stood with Ebun and Ola right
outside the courtroom premises. I asked her what had happened,
telling her that I knew something had transpired between her, the
judge and the lawyers from candy records. She admitted
immediately that indeed they had met and agreed to let the case go
away, that if I had won, more and more artistes would sue labels for
same issues. She said the industry was not structured, and that was
what led to all the drama, she then assured me that the case was
never going to be tried again. I told her it didn't matter, that I had
been robbed of my justice, I had no compensation for all the monies
I lost during the period, and no word to the public about how the
case really ended. Aje said there was no need talking to the press
anymore, that it was all over. I knew this was true, I was only
surprised at the method with which the case had been discarded.

I knew that if I had lost, the court would have made it a point to
teach artistes to always comply with contracts. My victory, even
though it wasn't documented by the court, would always be a go to
for artistes within this clime, the word is out; if a label didn't have an
understanding of the music market, they should not venture into the
music business, the essence of music branding and packaging is to
sell records and concerts, and earn royalty for the works artistes put
out. That artistes are in partnership with record labels, and no matter
how much a label even gets to spend on talent, the aim must
continue to be to invest, publish and earn money off the talent. The
labels do not own artistes, they work for them actually. Money
should not control art, it must be the other way around.

I had a loose tooth I had carried for many years, the gum couldn't
hold it down anymore for some strange reasons, and it had been
hurting me for as long as I could remember. Ebun drove us home
that day, after the courtroom saga. Right outside the house, after I
stepped out of the car, I poked at the tooth with the tip of my tongue,
like I always did. Suddenly it fell into my mouth. I couldn't believe
that after almost five years, my tooth had decided to give me relief,
it was the best thing that happened to me that day, not the case
ending.
We made lunch together and after eating, we talked about the case
again. She expressed disbelief on how they ended the case, stating
she didn't believe me when I had said that meetings were being held
in secret, between my lawyer and candy records, and the judge. I
knew because my lawyer always said things that sounded like we
needed to be good to our opponent, I would then tell her it didn't
matter, because they were out to get me, my career was on the line.
She was always sure it wasn't that serious, that it'll all pass soon.

I was glad, I could finally return to taking care of things that

concerned me more personally, like my woman and child, and I could
look after my parents more. I was beginning to make more appearance
within the entertainment circle, more people became warm towards
me like it used to be before the war. I was gigging more often, taking
television and radio interviews. It was time to start building my career
again, it felt like I was starting from the scratch, but it was all good, at
least I got the opportunity to start again, most people didn't. I had
successfully done something most artistes had failed at, I had looked
the money in the eye and had survived without it for an unbelievable
while. It wouldn't be possiblewithout Ebun of course, but I must give
myself kudos for believing so much in the idea that she also bought it.
Ola was also another person I had to say thanks to, we worked
together for almost two years without steady income, he had
persevered and had continued to believe that we could pull through.

I couldn't help but think about my journey, from when I was a

teenager to that point where I was engulfed in all that drama. I had
less contact with my friends from that time, including Tala. The
conversation people preferred to have during my ordeal was that I had
damaged my career by attempting to leave a label and set out onmy
own. I had decided then to stay away from as many people as
possible, the less I heard them whine about how I had gone and
sabotaged my own career the better for me. After the last day in court
however, I started to have more spare time, Tala decided to make his
marriage official and did a traditional ceremony with his long time
love and mother of his three children. I and Ebun attended,she was
heavy with the child and everyone where I grew up had something to
say about how taller she was than me, or how pretty she was. I was
glad they were no longer talking about my career
problems. I was looking forward to the arrival of my son, and was
hoping I could mend the issues between I and Ebun, that I could be
patient enough with my personal affairs, like I been with work. ThatI
could be there for her, for as long as she wanted me to be, to makeher
as fearless as she had made me during those rough times.
The next part of this text is an attempt at a vague and poetic
expression, and still at detailing the confrontation that may have
ensued after the story in the concluded part, the first part.
 II

1. (Kolobo’s manifesto)

My imaginations and assertions brought I and mine here, and of the

ones I admire, those who admire me, and the ones who backstabbed
me ~ the ones finding fatal marring at trying again at it.

I clearly have a knack for exaggerations, yet of things worthy of

them. Plus, this society may make itself anew in my days, I must act
upon that idea which is proper for the targeted matter.

This is manifesto: that knowing is the trigger of character, according

to time, according to individual timing in their separate existence.
When I know, I have taken charge of what is learnt. I am wholly
responsible for what I do whit the knowledge so. Conscience may
always attract my aftermath so.. when I do not know I am covered
by the shields of newness. Especially in an extended one where I
partake of said pleasures more than other, and I presume it reward
for delayed gratification - Where eventually it all may still come
crumbling, as time takes it’s hold, as entropy takes its toll. Who are
the ones who may hold the longest? may I offer timely seeing only,
for my steady climb.
I am tracing our steps, and by the go-on of historic days; through all
of recent and present times. In one quick swoop, I only require a
century of your time. You are giving me that much in exchange for
my revelations on these things that may be of progress, for the
individual and collective aspirations, for the rest of the eons.
The culture, I am refining through me, the sculptures of the tyranny
of old may now be put down, and every one adult may now find zest
at trying for self. Intention is the foundation of all things reality sees.

The proper and insidious alike.. and the feelings shared are always
heard.

It is with this intention that I proceed: to sit a’tween a missile launch

switch and an unwavering demeanor for peace in a mediation. The
symbols of just mentioned arrangement may be because I must
depict war and order clearly, that it may not be easy to not be clear
about this… and the many might persist on the path to nearly-
impossible-to-untangle confusion, yet I am mandated by life to spew
word and act as such at opportunity, to prepare the ones who may
see otherwise, in time for when such required knowledge may
preserve spaces for all who choose to remain, those who may save
the day.

This lands and mind-spaces may stay and hardly stray… and I insist;
I too must continually improve, and move to life’s groove, crooning
my own tune. I owe to all of existence my right to care, I am
committed to that as mandated by time and my life’s design.

….and so it was on that night, in the early hours of another new day
that I took more control of the tale, for where there is mostly
thoughtlessness, the doer may tell a thoughtful story for all. I’m
dreaming for all of time………. I’m sitting in this room, I’m
watching a little rat get itself acquainted to the space. It runs across,
wall to wall, back and forth like it didn’t know I was there, and I’m
writing about this little creature, for artistic impression on you my
reader, and to mention that I am usually the solution to the
impediments I meet.. and it is only proper to let the one who see
depict the sights of their imaginations for all to glimpse. For our
collective discernment.

I stood up in a sudden rush of gusto and stormed out of the yard in

glaring hurry. I arrived at the muses’s cottage in due time, she was
attending her little poultry at the back. A hundred chicken, maybe
less filled up the air with their endless quacking. She depended upon
her infamous star-plant for light. In fact, the entire multiple acres
upon acres of land surrounding her glowed in bright stems and
leaves of the magical tree that is star- plant, that only her, the muse
could cultivate. A rare gift bestowed upon her by Karma. They,
Karma made it such that life chose the muse. Her life was designed
to inspire us all, especially I.

The entire kingdom of Alili may never know darkness again because
of her. The star-plant had become the symbol of equality, every
household had at least a couple for when the sun sets. The tree
glowed brighter the darker the day got… yet I had come to proffer
solution to the progressive trouble it seemed to pose. The tree, in
return for its service grew steadily, and slowly but surely
increasingly. In over the past couple of decades since she had it
brought it back from Outland, star-plant had grown downhill from
where the cottage perched, on the peaks of the anpalic mountains,
and the muse was concerned it may go until it made its way and roll
on over the town, encroaching on and laying waste to the city it once
shined the path for.

She confessed earlier, many days before that visit to discus possible
solution to the matter, that she had requested a place on the hill for
settlement and had been granted it by Karma, so as to be far away
enough from the town, so the tree might grow freely, that she would
have gone farther away from town to increase the years it may take
for the impending encroachment. I opined that better now than ever
to seek solution to the matter, as eventually it may come to that. She
agreed.

Turned out every star-light is a life-mirror of another, therefore if

one died one other died too automatically, and randomly. In effect
this translated to that there’ll be nothing left if one cut down half of
them. I had surmised that all we needed were an exact amount of
trees to serve the farmers, herbalists, chieftains, the minister’s ranch
and the mass. And a little in excess for the muse’s reserve. The
amounts grown then stood at quadrupled multiples of what may be
needed to power all and leave in more than excess.

The muse listened on as I talked like I had always done, and she
listened on like she had always done. This kind of conversations had
then become the stronghold of our relationship in our advanced ages,
felt as intimate as sex was in our youth. I ruled the town, and she
ruled the light that shined upon it.

I told her there were two tasks to guarantee the desired outcome. To
maintain the numbers as they are for now, then direct growth of trees
towards the opposite of town.. that it may be, that our new duty was
to redirect its growth away from every town it may be growing
towards, as we also grow the trees around every village and city.
Wherever people may be.

She laughed and made a joke about not having the time to travel the
world doing that. I laughed, yet I knew she had already started to
think about it. Soon she’d pretend it was her idea and ask that I left
the miserable city alone for a while to let the government office do
its job.. plus, in recent times there’s been an urge to travel, but we
didn’t have a reason to leave yet. We are not the kind who may travel
for the beauty of the country alone, and we might have to time our
voyages and returns.. we may never stay every day any longer, yet
we may never be gone whenever or forever..
2

It was grandfather Oriri who had organized the first innovative era,
the first modern advancement anywhere on the continent. Since then
the people had been subjected to foreign rule, betrayed their own
king. Tried to eject the royal family, and even sought to adopt
foreign governing systems. Until I came and reestablished a newer
system, where the foreign ethos of leadership aligned with local
tenets. And the muse was made by Karma for me, and I for her.
What we had was beyond mortal definition.
I met the muse in Abawari when I was a young man and stationed
there by my medicine tutor, Yori. who had me on an internship
program with his long time friend and medical ally Bandingi.
Bandingi was the head of all medical practitioners in Abwari
kingdom. Being that I myself had kin there, as my cousins and
nearly half of my entire extended family still hail from there by the
virtue of grandfather Oriri’s origins, I had enjoyed my days there
immensely. It was on one of those days that I was hauling sacks of
catfish from the pond that I and a handful of boys had built the pond
the harmattan before, that then held fish triple the amount of
fingerlings I had deposited in the new pond - that I met the muse.
She was surrounded by other girls who were busy admiring her
beautiful hairdo. It was a hair she braided herself, never seen before
by her audience..

In a moment of impulse she looked up as if in a startle, like she

knew I had suddenly appeared there before her, like I rightly did..
the other girls broke open into a rippling wave atop breezy sea…the
muse caught my eye and I hers, and it was done deal, everyone in
hearing distance, and within clear sight knew we would never part
again.
3

And so it came to fruition, and the muse had in her possession an

apparatus that in one part requires the unleashing of her three Dasa
parrots, triplet birds that also lost their birth parents around puberty,like
the muse did, although her folks were excused and granted

The second part of the system that tracked the separate heads of the
hydra; here the muse retreats into her private room to focus on the
task, and follow the birds via telepathy, to see through their eyes,
smell through their nasal cavities, and feel their understanding of the
surroundings they travel to - by first being still. Soon the signaled the
suspected appearance is made, and the muse, once again pretended
once again it was the alpha head, there was only one of it,with a hoard
of beta-heads, growing faster than it took to cut.. removing the alpha
tames the hydra, or let’s you kill it if you will. I preferred the former. A
thing as the hydra is better left tamed, to be its alpha head at need for
show out, on “vile day”, when the whole ofmankind is yearning for
tragedy, when there must be unsavory news.So that. And the muse
alone may be their alpha-mind. I only play muscle. To be on ground,
to look the beast in the eyes, to be the triplet birds in one man, to be
remotely operational , miles apart from, and by the muse’s dedicated
alpha mind-space.
Yet to become the triplets I must sit close now, to not be preview to,
but to feel every unfolding happening for now. My feelings are my
value of exchange for intended victory over the hydra. The muse’s
invincible spear my turn jelly on sight of the multiple headed beast.
And she may have to temporarily abort mission, and we must only
hope the triplets return. I must swiftly make my way there then. To
the rendezvous point, blade of steel in hand. In a battle that is brief,
that catches the alpha head off guard, for I had been there before in
feelings, and I made it out. Yet it had not known I was there then..

And so it came to be so, and I separated the alpha head from its host
body, and the hydra folded into a tamed heap of sprawling body mass,
gently awaiting my command, I meant the muse’s command…
Tuesday 11 Jan. 2022

Now.. I feel an almost dissipated angst over my struggles of the past

year.. the Hydra had resurfaced, and this time I was nearly as
unprepared as before. At least I have a hold on my self enough to
enjoy my role in the war - yet, to make a glaring difference from the
other time I have refused to chase after hoards cheering for the
chaos, as they seek to punish the rest of society for their broken
dreams that are largely resultant of the broken homes from which
they hailed.

I chased not after the myriad headed beast too, and neither did I not
stay close, as I watched in horror, at a hearing distance from the
moans of defiled souls, as they suffered in its wake, as it makes its
way freely, and for to long all over the land.