I flew into Nigeria yesterday morning
completely knackered and unable to move
my pinky toe. Literally
Got home and went straight to my lappy to
get a bit of work done.
Then headed out to the salon to get the
wintery flakes washed off my golden locks.
Had a flight to catch for 3pm at the local
airport.
Got mangled up in Lagos traffic. I totally
underestimated it.
Missed my flight.
Actually I didn’t miss my flight.
I got there right on time to board the aircraft
because I didn’t have any luggage to check
in.
But when I tried to get my boarding pass – I
was told “madam” had closed check-in for
my flight.
Even though it was ‘closed’ – I could still get
on the flight If I “beg” madam very well.
Sorry, not sorry.
I had neither the time nor energy to beg or
bribe anyone to get on any freaking flight.
So I just chilled for the next plane.
My crew and I got bumped to the next
available flight for 5:30pm.
A flight that was eventually delayed till
7:30pm
Words aren’t enough to describe how flipping
knackered and famished I was.
I was starving like crazy and decided to while
away the time with a nibble or two.
My nibble fantasy however, turned sour when
the only decent food I could eat was a very
miserable N1,000 plate of rice & stew.
And when I say miserable – as in, Les
Misérables
While angrily swallowing the darn food with
water; in came singer Iyanya and his midget
self.
Homeboy’s swagger was out of this world.
Dude had managed to squeeze his dwarf-like
body along with his plenty muscles, into a
suit. Looking like an over-glorified bouncer.
His record label CEO Ubi Franklin, strolled
right behind him, trolleying a luggage like the
boi boi on duty.
I couldn’t be bothered to lift an arm let alone
my phone to get some Nanarazzi pictures.
I never get star struck. At least, not for
Iyanya.
Sorry.

Just when I thought my day wouldn’t get any
better – in came my favourite actor in the
whole wide world Nigeria!
Nkem Owoh!
I almost choked with excitement, on the
miserable poison food I was eating.
Shoving the plate to a corner – I pranced up to
him – wearing the biggest smile on the
planet.
“Hello Nkeeeeeem! I’m such a big
faaaaaaaan,” I super-excitedly screamed!
Before landing my phat butt on his couch
whilst grabbing him for a big bear hug.
“Oh my darling…thank you very much…how
are you?” he asked before adding “what’s
your name…what country are you from?”
“I’m from Nigeria o,” I retorted.
“Oh wonderful. But you don’t look it,” Nkem
said while assessing all of my features with
his eyes.
We began gisting.
I took hold of the convo session – stylishly
showing off my knowledge of the Nollywood
movie industry.
“How do you know all these things…you
don’t look like somebody that knows
anything about Nollywood,” Nkem quipped.
“You even know Nollywood more than me the
actor,” he added.
**I burst out laughing** “ah, don’t try me oh!
I’m a Nollywood movie buff,” I proudly said.
After a few fun memorable minutes of gisting
– he asked for my mobile number and said he
wanted to keep in touch with me.
We both dug our hands simultaneously into
my purse – ransacking the bag – looking for
my phone so we could exchange contact
details.
The beautiful meeting ended with a hug, a
goodbye and a promise to be no-strangers.

Why am I in Nigeria?
Because, election season.
A fortnight ago, I got an email from an Aide-
de-camp to a serving Governor.
He had read a few of my analysis to political
topics and current affairs.
Apparently, my sharp witted method of
writing, left him completely gobsmacked as
to how a girl like me could seemingly have
any interest whatsoever in politics.
Bimbo alert, anyone?!
He had tried severally to reach me via
Twitter. Sadly. I’m not exactly a social media
buff.
I’m hardly ever on Twitter, Facebook, or
Instagram.
I get on them because I have to. Not because
I want to.
Eventually, I got an email from him.
And from an email – I found myself having a
telephone conversation with a Nigerian
Governor whose work ethics I admire a lot.
The first time I spoke with the Governor – our
convo started out with basic greetings and
general bants.
Things quickly went from point A to point
lets-get-serious.
“My dear, I hear you’re one of these bloggers
that…“.
I quickly cut him off…”No sir. I’m not a
blogger. I hate to be called that. I don’t do
bandwagons. And I hate to be put in a box. I
don’t own a blog and I refuse to be called a
blogger. I am a Television Producer, Creative
Director, and Creative Writer who owns and
runs an Entertainment website.”
“Ah sorry, my dear. Sorry for the
misunderstanding.” the Governor retorted
while laughing out loud at my sharp tongued
lengthy response to a seemingly harmless
term, ‘blogger’.
“I thought all of you are doing the same
thing,” he said with a deep sigh – as though,
perturbed.
I responded: “Sir, you won’t understand. This
blogging thing is a saturated market filled
with people who haven’t got the slightest
clue what they’re doing. Just 3 months ago I
changed my website template because I had
issues with the old site. You won’t believe
that between December when I changed my
site till this very moment I’m speaking with
you, not less than 13 different unintelligent
people have duplicated my website design.
So many of these people abuse the term
‘blog’ and ‘blogger’…all they do is copy…they
have no sense of direction. Haaa…it’s a long
story jor…I don’t have the energy for it
mehn.”
Sensing a bit of verbal tension – he smartly
and stylishly deflected the convo with a
different question.
“I can’t believe the picture i’m looking at is
the face of the person that writes all these
things,” he said.
Apparently, his Aide told him I had a habit of
blasting people from my headline right down
to every word I write in a post.
He was told I had a penchant for calling out
politicians and firing them for messy things
they say.
To be honest, he said quite a lot. And I was
flattered. Because it was proof that people
were reading my website and taking note of
the distinction I had from “others”.
He spoke at length regarding what he had
managed to deduce about me.
But my reply to his analysis of me was very
clear cut.
“Sir, that’s how I am o. I tell it like it is or tell
it like it should be. My face tends to fool a lot
of people. I don’t kiss ass. I don’t do eye
service. And that’s how I make my money.
I’m a very disciplined, straight forward
woman.”

Then he began probing about my TV
production work experience from my BBC
days right down to my Soundcity & Spice TV
era, where I was Creative Director.
Long story short.
Homeboy Governor told me they had been
looking to shoot a documentary about the
rural areas that have so far benefited greatly
from their political party.
They were aiming for a world-class
international standard production.
After about an hour on the phone, he asked if
I would like to be given the contract to shoot
the docu-series for them.
In my mind I was like contract ke?
But me sef don forget say na naija govt I
been dey deal with.
Every work given to you by the government
in Nigeria is automatically labelled ‘a
contract’.
I quickly said YES! And accepted the offer.
Then we spoke money (that’s the most
important part for me – Igbo girl tings ).
Fast forward yesterday – I arrived the country
to begin production on the documentary.
After my hellish airport woes (revert to Part
One of the story) – I arrived the localities
where I was expected to record scenes for the
docu-series.
I met with the Governor himself.
He introduced me to his wife – the First Lady
of the state.
She had such a lovely personality – we
clicked instantly.
The First Lady took me hand-in-hand for
proper briefing on what the production would
entail. The locations they wanted me to
concentrate on…the people they needed me
to interview…yada yada yada.
Later in the day – we drove to a helipad base.
She took me on a helicopter ride to get an
aerial view of the state to help give me an
idea of the production quality they were
aiming for.
Basically, that’s why I’ve been offline
since noon yesterday.
It’s been crazy. Hectic. Unbelievably tiring.
But well worth it.
We’ve been shooting deep in the woods
where mobile network and internet service is
extremely poor.
There are some things money can’t buy. For
everything else, there’s MasterCard.
Money is powerful.
And these Nigerian politicians have plenty of
it to “throw away”.
When money calls you in Naija – you answer
on all fours.
When money says jump – you say ‘how high’
For just a few days of recording and long
hours of post-production, I’m getting paid
more money than God permits.
It’s not everyday you get these many ‘zeros’
on a paycheck.

So…err…Sugardaily.ng can wait till I wrap
up production
I’ll do my best to publish a few stories every
other hour when I get proper network
connection. But the website will generally be
scanty for the next couple of days.
On a more exciting note though – we’re
shooting in the villages as well. And I went
swimming in the river today!
I yanked off my bikini and jumped in the
water like a mad dawg auditioning for a role
in a Jackass series.
I feel so sorry for my GP.
The amount of skin irritations he will treat eh
PS: **as always, I remain the girl who hates
taking pictures. Hence the heart shapes
covering my face. Sowie! **

Sauce -www.sugardaily.ng/my-very-hectic-48hrs-featuring-nkem-owoh-a-governor-his-wife-a-documentary/#comment-1912

Wait o! Who is Nkem Owoh?

chipmunkey:
Wait o! Who is Nkem Owoh?

he's an Actor! Who are you and who knows you?

floragregs:
he's an Actor! Who are you and who knows you?

I honestly don't give two fvcks about that...