₦airaland Forum

Hello guys, I'm a storyteller, performance poet and content strategist.

I've been writing for some years now, since my third year in the University and surprisingly I began earning as quickly as I started writing.

I'm currently working with a creative writing and publishing company. Trust me, it's been a massive step for me, and I have decided to share some knowledge that I've gained so far for FREE. We all know that nothing is free even in free town, but I am going to do this one time offer, please make use of it, especially as a growing creative writer

Come and learn how to craft your writing piece, ways to go about your personal Branding and ways to earn from writing.

If you're interested, the WhatsApp link is below.

Class begins on February 10th.

https:///KnnJLMTz6fxI2hwC9vPjQG

WhatsApp- 07019832907

Note: If you join and I find that you're unserious with learning because it's free or completely inactive with communication once we begin, I'll remove you from the group. Thanks.

Hello guys, I'm a storyteller, performance poet and content strategist.

I've been writing for some years now, since my third year in the University and surprisingly I began earning as quickly as I started writing.

I'm currently working with a creative writing and publishing company. Trust me, it's been a massive step for me, and I have decided to share some knowledge that I've gained so far for FREE. We all know that nothing is free even in free town, but I am going to do this one time offer, please make use of it, especially as a growing creative writer

Come and learn how to craft your writing piece, ways to go about your personal Branding and ways to earn from writing.

If you're interested, the WhatsApp link is below.

Class begins on February 10th.

https:///KnnJLMTz6fxI2hwC9vPjQG

WhatsApp- 07019832907

Note: If you join and I find that you're unserious with learning, or completely inactive with communication once we begin, I'll remove you from the group. Thanks.

Hello guys, I'm a storyteller, performance poet and content strategist.

I've been writing for some years now, since my third year in the University and surprisingly I began earning as quickly as I started writing.

I'm currently working with a creative writing and publishing company. Trust me, it's been a massive step for me, and I have decided to share some knowledge that I've gained so far for FREE. We all know that nothing is free even in free town, but I am going to do this one time offer, please make use of it, especially as a growing creative writer

Come and learn how to craft your writing piece, ways to go about your personal Branding and ways to earn from writing.

If you're interested, the WhatsApp link is below.

Class begins on February 10th.

https:///KnnJLMTz6fxI2hwC9vPjQG

WhatsApp- 07019832907

Note: If you join and I find that you're unserious with learning, or completely inactive with communication once we begin, I'll remove you from the group. Thanks.

Here's Your FREELANCE WRITER

Beep me for any ideas you've got/academic writings you need help with , and we'll bring them to life. I promise.

+2347019832907
uricakate58@gmail.com

Here's Your FREELANCE WRITER ����

Beep me for any ideas/academic writes you've got, and we'll bring them to life. I promise.

+2347019832907
uricakate58@gmail.com

Beep me for any ideas you've got. We'll bring it to life, I promise.
+2347019832907
uricakate58@gmail.com

Need a freelance writer, or a Proofreader and editor. Reach out, let's work on your ideas and bring them to life.

(uricakate58@gmail.com)
WhatsApp: 07019832907

I'm a freelance writer. Beep me for any ideas you've got and we'll bring it to life.

WhatsApp - 07019832907

Thank you for reaching out. I would have gladly taken on any of the topics, unfortunately I have been away from this space for awhile now. Please give me a direct beep if the need for my services arise again. Thank you for your understanding and thank you for reaching out.

I'm a freelance writer. Beep me for any ideas you've got and we'll bring it to life


uricawrites@gmail.com

whatsApp-07019832907)

Here's my WhatsApp number 07019832907

~AMERICAN BOBO~


PART TWO

Several minutes later I’d gotten home, feeling satisfied about the stylish way I walked home, typical runway steps, how high I pushed my nose. How classy and sophisticated I replied greetings and even ignored my former friends along the way, This America shaa, it's like I was born for it, I already behave like them. Chooii!

Local girls with no class at all, they dunno waris going on, I'm on my way up. However as I walked into the sitting room I saw that my brother had a sullen look on his face and I wondered why. He was my only true alli and pal, supported my American trip and even did favors for me, for the benefits of the dollars I'll send later I guess, this one that can do anything for money.

‘Chubby what is it? “ came my quick enquire. No reply.
‘Chubby talk na' I persisted.

‘E Don travel o. ‘ Chubby said in vernacular.

‘who don travel! ‘ my heart beat did a quick double sequential beat but I assured it everything was OK.

‘your bobo Don travel' he put his two hands atop his head.

The air in the room became too dense, I couldn't breath, I felt like I was choking as I pulled off my scarf and began scratching my hair. Quick sweats broke out on my forehead..My legs felt like they'd been jolted awake by an electric shock.

‘where him travel go?’ I asked, totally confused. Chubby looked at me like I was demented.

‘America nah! ‘ He vented.

I flung my purse to the ground and followed suit,landing with my buttocks unto the cement floor of our small parlour, I spread my legs and screamed so loud. Just the way my mother had screamed the day she'd lost all the money she usually tied to the edge of her wrapper.

‘Ewoo!!’ came my second reaction after the first scream, followed by, ‘chim'o !’
An unintended exhibition of the strength of my eastern tongue followed. "Ewo! Anwuóla'm oo! America'm ooo!"

No. If I stayed in the room I knew I would die, I couldn't drag in air, my nostrils were betraying me.. How would I explain that I have been looking for my period since one week now and I was sure American Bobo had stolen it. This reminder shot me off the ground and out the door like a woman whose house was engulfed in flames.

Just then I bumped into both my mother and some of my compound women standing outside, more than few of them I’ve had rude encounters with.

‘Sopuruchi, wetin happen? Where you dey run go? ‘ My mother called out my name as she asked in wonder.

‘Him Don travel oo!’ I replied, feeling tremor rock all over my body. ‘Mummy my husband Don leave me go ooh!’ I wailed, ignoring the smile that sprang up all over the other women’s faces but my mother’s .

My mother scowled, ‘you dey craze? Who be your husband? Na why you come dey cry?’ She asked progressively.

‘Na period oohhh!! ‘ I could feel my world crumbling as I jumped roundabout my position, with a disheveled hair and screams like a woman who’d just gotten news of her husband’s demise.

‘You say Wetin?’ my mother dropped her handbag with a loud thud, ‘Wetin do your period?’ She didn’t wait for a reply before grabbing the wooden plank used to protect our ‘I pass my neighbor’ generator from the rain.
‘ Mummy I Don miss am ooo. ‘ I cried, moving steps backward as she approached.


You say wetin do your period?’ she repeated the question while grabbing for the wooden plank used in protecting our ‘I pass my neighbor’ generator from the rain.

‘ Mummy I Don miss am ooo. ‘ I cried, taking tentative steps backward as she approached.

‘Na lie o. Useless girl.’ She cursed as she came after me with plank in hand. ‘Where you keep the period? You go find am o! Stupid pikin! You must find am!’ She kept cursing amidst pants as she increased speed, as much as her legs could allow.

I ran just, the way the mad woman in Ahia Obodo did every time she stole a piece of the sellers item. I knew I was finished. Completely done for. No American husband, no period. I could hear the laughter of everyone in my street getting louder as I ran past each house, but my only concern was my mother who was my on my tail, screaming and cursing. I had no where to go, Not even a friend to run to. Oh my life, what had I done to myself?

Echoes of laughter gradually turned into cheers of ‘happy new year!’ Everyone was cheering with so much joy and noise. Awareness found me as I jumped up from the chair I had dozed off on. It was twelve midnight and the clock in my parish had just shrieked its alarm, ringing the first of January and I was only dreaming.
As if on cue my cellphone vibrated in my hand, I flipped it over and saw the displayed screen caller name as ‘my American bobo.’ quickly I clicked on the disconnect button.
‘Thank God say I dey my period.’ I heard myself whisper gladly and smiled.





(Anwuóla'm oo = I'm dead oo)
(America'm oo = my America oo)

~AMERICAN BOBO~



"PART ONE"

It was a Sunday afternoon, the first week of January.

I felt completely pleased in myself, from where I sat in our local parish I could feel the stares on me. Of course they ought to stare, I would soon become an Americana.

Every one in our street already knew I was dating the most popular and wealthiest returnee in our area, my American bobo. They also knew we would be getting married soon. So long as I was concerned, life was just perfect and everyone else could scram for all I cared.

Just then I looked down from beneath my lashes and saw mama Karo as she walked past me, my gaze berated her in every way. The front pew I sat on allowed me a field show of everyone and everything.

Mama Karo was papa Karo’s wife, a popular carpenter in my street. From the round swell of her belly, I could tell she was pregnant again. That would be her seventh birth.

So this woman wan' born Jesus Christ before she go stop abi? I wondered grudgingly before nudging my friend Ene, who was by my left and the last person at the end of the pew,

‘Every time this woman carry belle.’ I mouthed quietly in vernacular which she ignored, undeterred, I continued, ‘Na wao! Na only to dey born na’im that her yeye husband Sabi.’ I finished, as usual, pocking my nose into other people’s business. Snorting, I feigned moving my body away from mama Ajura the tomatoes seller who was sitting by my right, even though I knew Ene was at the extreme and had no where further to adjust to yet I wanted her to get uncomfortable.

imagine the nerves of Ene, ignoring me like that, like I was a fool.

‘mama Ajura shift abeg . Every time you dey sweat. See as your sweat dey rub my body.’ I muttered rudely with Irritation gnashing on my inside, all fueled by Ene’s lack of response.

I knew Ene was just jealous because my American bobo would be traveling with me in a few days. Well, she could die for all I care.

‘this pikin,’ mama Ajura retorted, ‘you no get respect oh. Na me you dey talk to like that? ‘ She asked, perplexed.

Pouting my lips like a market woman aching for a quarrel I rolled my eyes and ordered. ‘Abegi shift!’ Making a disgusted face I continued, ‘anyways I go soon leave this country with my American bobo.’
chuckling proudly I lifted my left hand to display an engaged finger so I could cover my mouth and flaunt it on both their faces as well.

My mother should have just let me sleep, I fussed within me. She was always fond of waking me up early and forcing me to go to church every Sunday, even with her knowing I needed to look fresh for my American trip, though she wasn’t in support of my love story.

My bobo had already promised we would leave for the states and get married there immediately. I was nonchalantly amused as mama Ajura shook her head in pity followed by a solemn,

‘Na only God go help you,’

I slowly flapped my lashes as I dragged my eyes shut and gave a harsh throaty groan . I very well knew they were all envious of my recent achievement. 'No be me say make I fine nah.' I smirked.

As if the people around me weren’t enough pain, I saw Uduak walk past my pew, my eyes traced her as she went over to the pulpit and knelt down to join in the breaking of bread and the sacrament, a routine in my local parish.

‘humph!’ I scoffed. See them, all of them, nonsense pretenders, I thought. Everyone knew how she and John, the meson boy normally stood along the lonely part leading to the stream, now the promiscuous girl wants to break bread and eat communion. ‘Holy indeed’ I drawled noiselessly, not satisfied, I gave a long drag of hiss, not minding if I was heard.

My thoughts randomly visited every spot I’d seen her with John. ‘Fine bobo like am,’ I soliloquized, ‘ I no even know wetin him see for her body. This one wey resemble plier. That guy for be my bobo sef, na just say I no want am. ‘

Ene looked at me, with an expression that seemed like she thought I was insane. Her loss. Who she epp? I wondered. Soon I’d start sending down dollars. I certainly wouldn’t give her a kobo from it.

I heard the preacher say the final grace.

Finally.

Clutching on my purse I pushed past Ene. Such immature brat she was, ignoring me like that! Such disregard for all that I represent, the wife of an American boy, our friendship was certainly over.

The preacher called my attention as I got to the church exit. It was my chance to finally give him a taste of my anger. ‘Yes? ‘ Came my cut uncharacteristic reply.

As he approached I stood instinctively on alert, but he merely wanted to ask about my mum. She was worshipping in one of our neighbors church as an invitee. Still I told the preacher I had no idea where she was and left. He only stared after me, transfixed and amazed.

They want to get close now that I would soon become an ‘oyinbo woman ‘ This preacher that refused my entering the church last week because of an ordinary short gown. I hissed and went my way.


To Be continued....