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auto_freak2020: This should be called closing letter to open letters.hehehehe |
Open letters everywhere from Politics to the Headies Awards. Well, here's a satirical letter to 'open letter' that is pleading for a stop to the recent spate of open letters . . Gistoscope Towers, Somewhere in Nigeria. December 27, 2013. The Original Open Letter, Open Letter Commission, Wherever you are. Dear Open Letter, An Open Letter to Open Letter I write to you today for a myriad of reasons, the highlight of which is – I don’t want you around anymore. As is apparently now customary, I will give a breakdown of the reasons why I had to write this as the letter progresses. It seems you have become very popular in recent times especially in our political circles. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why. Your dad – the normal letter – was a staple, exasperating presence in my childhood forever haunting me as I struggled to understand whether it would rather end with ‘yours faithfully’ or ‘yours sincerely’ (Okay . . I must admit . . this still haunts me). I was so happy when I discovered I didn’t need to write anymore of its kind after I had got into my second year at the university. You could not imagine the joy I felt when I discovered that the less uptight e-mail had replaced your irritating dad as the major and most common form of business correspondence. I got even happier as gradually, chat sites and applications became more ubiquitous as it meant your father was ever closer to his grave. The whole brouhaha about air pollution, deforestation, global warming bla bla bla killing our planet and causing everything from common cold to the bad-arsse-ery (this should totally be a word) of Kim Jong-Un indicates that the end is nearer for your family and its unnecessary intricacies. However, despite the dwindling influence and presence of your kin, you have made an impressive though puzzling come back. Fittingly enough, you made your confounding comeback among some of the most confused people in our society – our political office holders, past and present. In the space of weeks, you not only engulfed the attention of a whole nation but also adequately sowed (abi placed) seeds of discord (abi land mines) at strategic points – points where they are likely to germinate(abi explode) on or before 2015. It is particularly perplexing to me that you could be used for such insidious activities when all I’ve ever considered using you for was expressing my heartfelt desire to Tonto Dikeh to stop singing/saying ‘Hi’ and to Dame Patience to stick to Okrika or whatever language is her mother tongue – lightheartedly of course. But my major beef today is not with the manner of your use and the political significance of your type to the Nigerian politic-o-sphere (yet another collection of alphabets which should totally be a word), that beef should be the subject of a far more serious article written by an actual political analyst. Noooo, my beef is with the people who use you and the exceptional way you make them appear. How do you work your mighty miracles with them? How do you make them sound smarter and much more articulate than their countless public speeches suggest they are? How do you make dreary, obtuse-sounding, soporific speakers sound like passionate, erudite, charismatic individuals? The Obasanjos and GEJ are, with all due respect, not Soyinka and Achebe, so how do you get them sounding alike? And why do they have to outline countless reasons for writing you at the beginning often covering more space than your actual subject? Why do some like Iyabo use you for subjects that are of little concern to us – the general populace? Why is it often so difficult to ascertain why we are reading you? Why do your replies not answer the pertinent questions posed in their predicates? And where on earth do they find the time to write you when our country is in such dire straits economically and otherwise? I would also use this opportunity to ask how and why they chose you. Why not some other more exciting, maybe less time consuming alternative like a debate/shouting match/cat fight atop Zuma/Olumo Rock involving rap interludes from Jim Iyke and commentary by Hon. Patrick Obahiagbon? Too many ‘whys’ and too few ‘becauses’ – please start answering asap or my beef could turn sour. On a side note and though I’m sure it’s not completely your fault, I will also like to beg you to cease and desist from populating my twitter interface/list of tweets/TL. You can’t keep trending every time. It’s distracting, for one, and unfair to other attention seekers and possibly more exciting trends/tweets which I would have uncovered like the classic ‘Nigeria vs Kenya tweef’. If you insist on remaining relevant in the modern age despite my vehement protests, then please, stay in ink and paper form at the least. We don’t want e-open-letters, that’s why we have the e-mail. Discussions like the ones you incite are meant for the Vanguard News comment section not my TL. Consider yourself adequately warned – I hope not to see you in that world anymore. In conclusion, I fear for the future if the current spate of spurting out your kind continues; I fear a day might come when a ten-page open letter is written for every tiff between political officers; I fear that one day you and your kind will eventually overrun my Twitter TL and leave me in a state of eternal boredom seated in a dark room, gently rocking from side to side, arms around knees listening to the epic soundtrack of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly . . . BUT, What I fear the most and the predominant source of my conviction to write this urgent, ironically open letter is the apparently certifiable, high alert threat on twitter to ‘Watch out for Patience Jonathan’s Open Letter to Rotimi Amaechi’. PLEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE!!!!! For the sake of my sanity, your self-respect and the goodwill of this great nation from fellow English speaking nations across the world, PLEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE!!!!! Don’t let her do it. Run away, disappear, exile yourself, take a long vacation on some beach in Micronesia, become a monk at some Shaolin temple or go to Mars, but PLEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE!!!!! don’t allow yourself to be used in this way. I believe I need not write any further especially because I don’t want this one to become as mind-numbing as its predecessors. Thank you for understanding. I wish you and your kin well(I really do). Happy New Year in advance. Yours faithf . . . sincer . . . F*ck this Yours in a begging way, Wazo Bia DISCLAIMER , PS : or NB : I forgot to sign this letter because my tongue was lodged firmly in my cheek – And if you’re Nigerian but can’t understand that expression, then OBJ and GEJ deserve more blame than they’d care to admit . Source : Gistoscope |
Hey guys So so so sorry for the delay with the story and its continuation. The story should be continued early 2014. Thanks for following and accept my sincerest apologies. |
As 2013 is coming to a close, I sincerely hope the recent spate of open letters also ends with the year. Here's a satirical letter to 'open letter' that expresses that sentiment. Enjoy Gistoscope Towers, Somewhere in Nigeria. December 27, 2013. The Original Open Letter, Open Letter Commission, Wherever you are. Dear Open Letter, An Open Letter to Open Letter I write to you today for a myriad of reasons, the highlight of which is – I don’t want you around anymore. As is apparently now customary, I will give a breakdown of the reasons why I had to write this as the letter progresses. It seems you have become very popular in recent times especially in our political circles. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why. Your dad – the normal letter – was a staple, exasperating presence in my childhood forever haunting me as I struggled to understand whether it would rather end with ‘yours faithfully’ or ‘yours sincerely’ (Okay . . I must admit . . this still haunts me). I was so happy when I discovered I didn’t need to write anymore of its kind after I had got into my second year at the university. You could not imagine the joy I felt when I discovered that the less uptight e-mail had replaced your irritating dad as the major and most common form of business correspondence. I got even happier as gradually, chat sites and applications became more ubiquitous as it meant your father was ever closer to his grave. The whole brouhaha about air pollution, deforestation, global warming bla bla bla killing our planet and causing everything from common cold to the bad-arsse-ery (this should totally be a word) of Kim Jong-Un indicates that the end is nearer for your family and its unnecessary intricacies. However, despite the dwindling influence and presence of your kin, you have made an impressive though puzzling come back. Fittingly enough, you made your confounding comeback among some of the most confused people in our society – our political office holders, past and present. In the space of weeks, you not only engulfed the attention of a whole nation but also adequately sowed (abi placed) seeds of discord (abi land mines) at strategic points – points where they are likely to germinate(abi explode) on or before 2015. It is particularly perplexing to me that you could be used for such insidious activities when all I’ve ever considered using you for was expressing my heartfelt desire to Tonto Dikeh to stop singing/saying ‘Hi’ and to Dame Patience to stick to Okrika or whatever language is her mother tongue – lightheartedly of course. But my major beef today is not with the manner of your use and the political significance of your type to the Nigerian politic-o-sphere (yet another collection of alphabets which should totally be a word), that beef should be the subject of a far more serious article written by an actual political analyst. Noooo, my beef is with the people who use you and the exceptional way you make them appear. How do you work your mighty miracles with them? How do you make them sound smarter and much more articulate than their countless public speeches suggest they are? How do you make dreary, obtuse-sounding, soporific speakers sound like passionate, erudite, charismatic individuals? The Obasanjos and GEJ are, with all due respect, not Soyinka and Achebe, so how do you get them sounding alike? And why do they have to outline countless reasons for writing you at the beginning often covering more space than your actual subject? Why do some like Iyabo use you for subjects that are of little concern to us – the general populace? Why is it often so difficult to ascertain why we are reading you? Why do your replies not answer the pertinent questions posed in their predicates? And where on earth do they find the time to write you when our country is in such dire straits economically and otherwise? I would also use this opportunity to ask how and why they chose you. Why not some other more exciting, maybe less time consuming alternative like a debate/shouting match/cat fight atop Zuma/Olumo Rock involving rap interludes from Jim Iyke and commentary by Hon. Patrick Obahiagbon? Too many ‘whys’ and too few ‘becauses’ – please start answering asap or my beef could turn sour. On a side note and though I’m sure it’s not completely your fault, I will also like to beg you to cease and desist from populating my twitter interface/list of tweets/TL. You can’t keep trending every time. It’s distracting, for one, and unfair to other attention seekers and possibly more exciting trends/tweets which I would have uncovered like the classic ‘Nigeria vs Kenya tweef’. If you insist on remaining relevant in the modern age despite my vehement protests, then please, stay in ink and paper form at the least. We don’t want e-open-letters, that’s why we have the e-mail. Discussions like the ones you incite are meant for the Vanguard News comment section not my TL. Consider yourself adequately warned – I hope not to see you in that world anymore. In conclusion, I fear for the future if the current spate of spurting out your kind continues; I fear a day might come when a ten-page open letter is written for every tiff between political officers; I fear that one day you and your kind will eventually overrun my Twitter TL and leave me in a state of eternal boredom seated in a dark room, gently rocking from side to side, arms around knees listening to the epic soundtrack of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly . . . BUT, What I fear the most and the predominant source of my conviction to write this urgent, ironically open letter is the apparently certifiable, high alert threat on twitter to ‘Watch out for Patience Jonathan’s Open Letter to Rotimi Amaechi’. PLEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE!!!!! For the sake of my sanity, your self-respect and the goodwill of this great nation from fellow English speaking nations across the world, PLEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE!!!!! Don’t let her do it. Run away, disappear, exile yourself, take a long vacation on some beach in Micronesia, become a monk at some Shaolin temple or go to Mars, but PLEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE!!!!! don’t allow yourself to be used in this way. I believe I need not write any further especially because I don’t want this one to become as mind-numbing as its predecessors. Thank you for understanding. I wish you and your kin well(I really do). Happy New Year in advance. Yours faithf . . . sincer . . . F*ck this Yours in a begging way, Wazo Bia DISCLAIMER , PS : or NB : I forgot to sign this letter because my tongue was lodged firmly in my cheek – And if you’re Nigerian but can’t understand that expression, then OBJ and GEJ deserve more blame than they’d care to admit . Source : Gistoscope |
Ok, I hope I'm not the only one tired of these open letters . . . So here's an Open Letter to 'Open Letter' - http://gistoscope./2013/12/27/an-open-letter-to-open-letter/ Enjoy ![]() |
iamDozzy: boarding house ? no be eko hotel dem wan keep us tai wo: Lol u no like sheraton hotel,I think we can all manage Federal Palace Hotel Right? |
babyzai: Nice story line,lovly vocabs nd i must say am hooked already. More grease to ur elbow. april wise: Such a wonderful story. U are between two walls it hard to make decision in this kinda situation. Am waiting for d next update.Thanks a lot, guys. Can't tell you how much I appreciate your comments. |
And to everyone following, I'm really sorry for the delays. Been really held up by work recently so haven't found the time to write more. I'm working on the next chapter, though. Thanks for following once more. Your encouragement has kept me going. |
AnnNini: Hello. Nice story. Pls update oFtenThanks, dear. Will try my best. Thanks for following ![]() |
CuteNCuddly: DEAR xxxxxxxx THANK U FOR ACCEPTING OUR OFFER AND DECIDING TO GO ON THIS HISTORY MAKING JOURNEY WITH US. AS U PREPARE TO REPORT TO THE REFINERY ON SUN 19TH AUG, PLS BE INFORMED DAT YUR APPROVED LUGGAGE ALLOWANCE IS = 1 (REASONABLY SIZED) SUITCASE, 1 (REASONABLY SIZED) CARRY-ON BAG AND 1 LAPTOP BAG ONLY. PLS ADHERE TO THIS. NOTE THAT WE ARE INDEED EXCITED TO HAVE U ON BOARD AND CANT WAIT TO SEE U ON SUNDAY!!!thanks a lot for this. Got d weird chinese symbol text which was really incomplete so was good to see its full contents. But what exactly is the definition of a suitcase? Does an echolac box count? And I guess that 'reasonably sized' thing is another challenge too. My reasonably sized might be another person's massive. Well, lets watch and see sha. If I can't get clarification, I'll simply come with what I have. |
Here's the promised update. As usual do well to leave your comments, thoughts, suggestions, criticism, smileys etc. I greatly appreciate them all. thank you very much for reading and following. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What the hell? I read the message again and still couldn’t believe what I read. ‘Give me a little time to work this out, I love you’ she had written. What did this mean? The last part of the message stirred something in me. I read that part again and couldn’t help smiling sheepishly. Jessica loves me . .Then, I heard a soft knock on my front door. I glanced out the window to confirm it was Nneka and it was. She seemed deep in thought. I gently unlocked and opened the door and welcomed her in. I wasn’t at all ready for what happened next. As I closed the door and turned to face my visitor, I saw Nneka standing directly in front of me. Before I could say anything, she leaned up and kissed me full on the lips. I pulled away, surprised. Nneka who was like a sister to me had just kissed me in a completely un-sisterly way. I looked into her eyes and saw a fire I had never seen there before. She looked me dead in the eyes and with the confidence I always admired her for, said; ‘I’ve wanted to do that for so long . . . ‘ She paused for a moment, looked around the room, then looked back at me. Her next words would change my life forever. She said; ‘I’ve also wanted to say this for a while . . . I love you’ |
primus_101: The fact that you have a very efficient vocab. pleases me. I love your story, please keep it up.Thanks a bunch for the advice and compliments. I guess I'm a bit strapped for time so I jumped straight into the centre of the story. My next story will probably have a slower build up with as much description as I can muster. thanks once more. ![]() |
femmyadje: wat a way to end dis post.abeg make next one come sharp sharp.nice work is an understatement. thumbs up Thanks a lot, dear. A pretty short update is coming up this night. |
chrisI: u mean some of those who saw the E.D got the mail for storing their c.v in their database for future opportunities? I totYea, at least I know of one who got the cv storage mail despite seeing d ED. |
CuteNCuddly: Yeah...see you there....that's if anyone will agree to answer their name there...lolz...I really don't see any reason not to. there was no binding contract on anyone to keep his/her thoughts about the recruitment process confidential. So I don't see why they'll hold it against anyone. I guess the one person I'd really want to identify is Delsey, that's if she really did get the invite. She does seem like a very interesting character . . . not necessarily bad . . . or good. Just interesting. Strongly suspect that her online character is vastly different from her real life one. |
abiggy: Hello house, Please may I know if anyone who got to see the ED got a mail that CV has been kept for future opportunities as against the waiting list? Thanks for your response.Got a friend who did. Apparently few who met the ED got the same mail too. Was really sad |
Any idea if the 35-10-5 thing is really true? Anyone? |
Next Chapter. Once more, do well to leave your comments and thoughts. I really appreciate you guys who are already following. Thanks for the positive feedback too. And to silent readers, do well to comment. Have a nice day. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The rest of the night went on uneventfully. I dropped her off at Chizzie’s house later on and went home. I undressed, showered, got into my pajamas and lay on my bed with the lights off, air condition at 16 degrees, everywhere very quiet. I replayed Jessica’s words in my head again and again. I have a fiancé. I could not understand why she hadn’t told me about it earlier, why she didn’t see such a crucial detail as important, why she would lead me on, knowing fully well how close we were growing to one another. As I lay there lost in thought, a shrill sound pierced my fortress of solitude and self reflection. I opened my eyes to see my phone ringing. The caller ID read ‘Jessica’. I let it ring till it disconnected. It rang a few more times but I ignored each. Then after about ten minutes, I heard a different tone, a shorter one, it was a message. As I reached to see the contents of the message, the phone began to ring again. This time, it was a call from Nneka. She told me she had something to tell me which was very important and that she was coming over to see me. I couldn’t say no to Nneka, she was one of a few true friends I still had. Over the last two months, I had spent a significant amount of time with Nneka. I had informed her office of her health issues, visited her at the hospital everyday till she was discharged and paid her regular visits since she was discharged to find out how she was doing. The doctor had recommended drugs and a strict fat-free diet to help her get back to full fitness – two things she really hated. Owing to this, I felt compelled to visit her regularly to encourage her to stick to the doctor’s orders and to cheer her up. However, I couldn’t fathom why she would be coming to visit me this night. It was strange. She sounded pretty terse on the phone and I was really concerned. I glanced at the big circular clock in my bedroom, it had just crossed 8:30pm. I looked at my phone and saw that the message was from Jessica. I opened it and saw a very long message. It read; ‘Hey, dear. How are you? I’m really sorry for not telling you about my fiancé. We’ve been engaged for about three months but I don’t love him. I only accepted his proposal because we’ve been dating since I was in high school. The truth is I was really scared of pushing you away and that’s why I never mentioned him. You’ve made me so happy these last two months and made me feel things I haven’t felt about anyone. Please dear, I’m in a very tight situation, give me a little time to work this out. I love you’. |
Mykhel10: Pls try n kip us updated more often. I'm sure dis story wil mak d front page...gud work bro more greez 2 ur fingersI really wish i could upload more often but I'm severely constrained by time and I'm about to get a whole lot busier too. thanks a lot for the following and enjoying the story. Will continue to put in my best as often as I can. But I'll put up the next chapter now. |
Yep, Lag for everyone |
this should be interesting . . . |
Delsey?! |
Mykhel10: 9c work...kip it rollin am just addictd 2 ur write up...waitn 4 ur nxt updateI'm very grateful for the compliments, Thanks. Will continue putting down more parts as often as time allows me. |
emmie104: @ Julie I understand u very well, bt read ur letter well. Graduate trainee's pay during training is stated bt management trainee is not. I wanna know that of management trainee i.e after training!it is my opinion that the pay will probably not be above 200, probably somewhere between 120 and 180. We however cannot know with certainty and so I advice you to ask God for guidance. Your current job might not be paying as well but might be just what you need to make a huge jump later on in life. Similarly, HB might just be the in design of God for you and though the pay might not be enough to convince you to resign from your current engagement, it could lead to you rising much faster and earning much more money in the near or distant future. What I'm saying is trust God who has taken you thus far. He knows what's best for you. Hope this helped. |
april wise: It's a nice storyThanks a lot. I'll keep putting in the work. |
Next Chapter. Once more, do well to leave your comments and thoughts. I really appreciate you guys who are already following. Thanks for the positive feedback too. And to silent readers, do well to comment. Have a nice day. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------- My mind returned to the present. Jessica had a fiancé. How? Why? How come she hadn’t mentioned it? We had grown really close in the last two months so it must have been a really difficult task to keep such big news under wraps. Over those months, I called her at least once every two days. On occasion, I would call as much as thrice a day. She was so easy to discuss with, her voice so soft and soothing. We would talk for hours at times; laughing, sharing funny stories and just allowing our imaginations run wild as we laughed and discussed the unpredictability of the future. While I did the majority of the calling, she always texted me. She would send all types of texts from the short ‘Hey, Wats up?’s to the long poetic messages about how she valued our friendship. I had grown to really care about her without actually seeing her in the course of those months. Now I was with her, it was unbelievable how palpable the chemistry between us was. She had just come into town the day before and I insisted we hung out the next day. She obliged and I brought her to my favorite restaurant- Sky High. I didn’t spend too long on chit chat. Immediately we had ordered a meal, I poured out my heart to her, telling her how I never felt the way I felt about her with anyone else, telling her how badly I wanted her to be mine, telling her how often I thought about her and how I couldn’t keep those thoughts to myself anymore. She looked at me and the expression on her face was one I had never seen before. A sullen, solemn look had settled in where excitement and exuberance once shone proudly as she said; ‘I have a fiancé’ I was shocked. My brain refused to process the message my ears were passing across. I opened my mouth to say something . . . anything . . . but I couldn’t form the words. After what felt like forever, I eventually asked; ‘Where is he now?’ She looked down at the table and replied; ‘Offshore’ And after a short pause added ‘He works on a rig offshore’. ‘Okay’ I said. It was all I could say. |
zeemoore: So this will be my first time of following a story right frm d start on Nairaland. I hope twill be worth following. U started on a good note though. I hope u keep it upI feel honored that you decided to follow my story. I will continue to do my best. thanks. Sangarara: Good thinking real,but it is like u are still updating this thing now now,right?yea, I am. The story is still very much a work in progress. I hope I can continue to garner more readers to constructively criticize the work. Thanks |
Next Chapter. Once more, do well to leave your comments and thoughts. I really appreciate you guys who are already following. Thanks for the positive feedback too. And to silent readers, do well to comment. Have a nice day. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was grateful, but the prevailing emotion was surprise. I was surprised that someone was willing to brave the night in a land that was relatively new to him or her to help an individual he or she barely knew. Jessica was truly a wonderful person. After a while, the doctor came out to inform us that Nneka wasn’t dead, but that she had some medical condition. He mentioned some things about a genetic collagen deficiency which led to temporary muscle paralysis probably triggered by a stressful situation. He went on to say some other things I couldn’t process or remember. All I recalled with clarity was the overwhelming sense of relief that flooded me the moment I heard him say ‘She’s not dead’. The doctor advised we left her there for a while so he could study the peculiarity of her case and suggest the best way forward. Soon after, myself, Jessica and her brother left. Before they dropped me off at my house, we first took a detour to Nneka’s place where we secured her property and my car. The next morning, before heading to work, I got an auto-mechanic and took him to Nneka’s place to look at my car. It turned out that it was a minor problem with the battery terminals which he fixed very easily. I opened Nneka’s room, cleaned the pool of blood on the blue-tiled floor and pocketed the sheet of paper where Jessica had written down her number the day before. I took a few clothes and other basic necessities from her packed bags, then locked up and left for Helix Medical Centre. I was very happy to see Nneka awake though still less vivacious than normal. Her skin was a bit pale especially her face which appeared almost ghostly white. Against my better judgment to let her rest, and as a result of her insistence, I told her everything that went down the day before. She was very surprised that ‘this Jessica’(as she put it) was so willing to help and looked at me funnily when I said Jessica was a lovely person. She wanted to say some more but I urged her to rest and regain her strength. Soon after, her drugs kicked in and she fell asleep. I left her sleeping and went to work. |
Happy Sunday! |
1mic_cza: Nice Job bro,I love your style. Keep up the good work.. Spactacle: Nice story man,,thumbs up ....keep it blazing,,,,am feeling d vibe BukkyDan: Woow! Very good!Thank you very much for the praise and encouragement. I'll do my best to keep the ink flowing. Keep following too. thanks. |
Next Chapter. Once more, do well to leave your comments and thoughts. I really appreciate you guys who are already following. Thanks for the positive feedback too. And to silent readers, do well to comment. Have a nice day. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What she said to me rang continuously in my head for the next few seconds. I have a fiancé. I could not understand it. It couldn’t be true. It was impossible. I glanced at my watch, it was just past seven pm. The serene, pleasant environment in the restaurant contrasted acutely with the discord that tore at the strings of my heart. I returned my gaze to her very beautiful eyes. Jessica looked even more stunning today. An awkward silence had blanketed us and she just stared at me . . . her eyes searching mine for a reply, any reply at all. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though. . . Nothing about Jessica was uncomfortable. The eventful circumstances on the night of the day that I met her meant the bond we shared was as good as eternal. Since that night, she had been awarded a very special spot in my heart. No one, no action, nothing at all could cause her to lose that spot. Even this bomb of a revelation. As I carefully pondered the next words to say, my mind cast back to that night . . . the fateful night when Nneka’s life hung in the balance . . . That night, I had finally begun to shiver when we pulled into the driveway at Helix Medical Centre. Before I could make a move, the tall, fair driver was already carrying Nneka out and hurrying her motionless body towards the emergency section, closely followed by a concerned-looking Jessica. I felt light-headed as I clambered out of the car to follow them into the hospital. I had narrated the bizarre tale to the two relative strangers who had come to my rescue as the driver sped towards the hospital. I glanced at Nneka and she looked peaceful . . a far cry from the emotions that were running through my mind as I, as best as I could in my condition, explained the events of the night. When I was done with my story, Jessica told me she was almost asleep when she heard Chizzie pick my call earlier . Apparently, she and the driver, who I discovered was her brother, had just come into town for a bit to see some of their friends and they were spending the night at Chizzie’s rather than at a hotel because Chizzie vehemently refused to allow them sleep anywhere else. Classic Chizzie , I thought, as the small salon car sped through the endless network of roads in GRA. ‘Immediately Chizzie told me about your situation, I woke my brother who was sleeping in the living room and with a basic description from Chizzie, we were able to find you’ Jessica had said. |
Candis009: U av a gr8 story here...Thanks, dear. I'll do my best ![]() |
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