Gravity: The picture that almost cost me my camera.

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Francis and I were returning from Ibadan (on 4 – September – 2013) where we went to drop-off Oonere. She just commenced studying for her Advanced Levels papers at Ibadan. With Francis behind the wheel, departing from Ibadan, we soon left Ife, Ondo and Ore far behind. The section of the expressway we were then plying was fairly good.

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Maintaing a normal speed we were heading towards Okada town and then on to Benin City. On the Rivers, Bayelsa (and parts of Delta) states sections of the East West road, you are guaranteed more of bomb-craters sized pot-holes than a smooth ride. The 4WDs in spite of their stamina are not spared the wearing and wasting  rigours of the half-heartedly constructed and mostly dilapidated or almost non-existent roads.  We are told that hope is on the way, courtesy of the behemothal road construction machines that stringed more than half the length of the road from Port Harcort in Rivers state to Warri in Delta state. 

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I never cease to be amazed by the unending streams of wisdom scribbled on the various shades of vehicle plying our Nigerian roads. A lot of the time, I never had the chance to grab hard-copies of these mobile wise-graffitis while driving, except when I am held up in traffic jams known as “go-slows” here. Francis returned from Abuja some couple of days back. This afforded me the luxury of being driven most of the round trip from Port Harcourt to Ibadan and back. With my Panasonic DMC-ZS10 by my side, I was able to grab some of these uncanny pieces of wisdom and often times hilarious wisecracks that help to keep Nigerians the happiest people on earth. Supposedly. At other times, my Samsung Galaxy S3 comes in handy especially when I am held-up in a “go-slow”.
From Ore, we were trailing on to Benin City when I caught sight of this lorry with the inscription behind it;
“WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN” – as if to scream at Sir Isaac Newton that he was not the first observer or discoverer of the law of gravity. He only happened to package it better. Afterall, packaging, they say, is everything. Packaging is what makes iPhone stand apart from my old rusty Galaxy S3 (on which I am writing this blog). Don’t worry. I am contented and happy.

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Before he had the time to zoom pass this lorry, I told my son to slow down so that I can capture a short or two of this “short-wisdom-message.”
Francis eased his foot from the accelerator so that I can fill my camera view-screen with this shot. Hardly have I finished grabbing these series of shots when a police man appeared from no-where and waved for us to stop. With the self-assurance that we were not over-speeding, I told Francis to slow down and stop. Ordinarily, the policeman ought not to have stopped our vehicle, because of the speed we were then maintaining. This was all the more so because the lorry immediately ahead of us was not stopped.

Policeman: “I noticed that you were taking our pictures from your car. Why did you take our picture?”
Me: “Officer, we were not taking pictures of you or your people. We are not even aware that there is a police-checkpoint here. In fact we were taken aback by your unexpected dashing out towards the road to stop us. You can even look at the picture I just took. In fact, I’ve been taking this and other similar shots all along the way.”
I now proceeded to show him all the set of pictures recently taken. Apparently convinced by my explanations, the policeman now proceeded to ask for my name, my state of origin, where we were coming from and where we were heading to.
Me: “Officer, we are returning home from where we went to drop-off my daughter at her school.”
Policeman: “Where do you work? Can I see your company‘s ID card?”
Me: “… I don’t travel with my company’s ID card on personal businesses.”
The policeman now proceeded to check our vehicle documents and driving license.  “All correct” and almost set to let us go, he was enthralled by my petite but very capable Panasonic DMC ZS10 camera.
Policeman: “This your camera fine o. How much did you buy it.?”
Me: “Yes it is. I spent almost as much money to fix it (when it got damaged) as the initial purchase price. So, this camera cost me roughly $700.”
Policeman: “That is a nice camera you’ve got. Can you help me to get one like it?”
Me: “Actually, this camera is already old now. You might be able to get this type or a similar one for about $250 equivalent in Lagos or Port Harcourt. Better still, you can send somebody to buy it for you from the US.”
Continuing for some minutes more, the policeman eventually let us off. As we were about to start driving away I gve the him N1000 without any solicitation from him.
Policeman: “I hope that you are not bribing us o ?”
Me: “Do you call that a bribe? I freely gave you the money without your asking for it. Is that what you call a bribe?”

Much later in the day after arriving at PHC, I had time to pour over the pictures. Unknown to me,the policeman was partially captured in one of the shots.

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Me: “Francis, come and see. That policeman was actually captured in one of the shots I took on the road today. I just thank God that he did not confiscate my newly “redeemed” Panasonic camera. It’s like he really wanted to seize it from us. If he had seen his image in the camera when I was showing him all those pictures on the preview screen, he would have had a “perfect” excuse to use to snatch the camera from us. Then, I could as well have “kissed” my precious camera good-bye forever.”
Francis: “Yes, it’s like he really wanted to dispossess us of that camera at all costs. But then, what would have been his justification for doing that? I don’t think I would have let him go away with the camera just like that. At best, I would have just tell him to watch me delete the “offending shots” – those that had his image captured.”
Me: “Francis! Have you forgotten that you don’t argue with the man who wields a gun? Well, let us just thank God that things did not get worse than the slight delay they forced on us. It seems that those police officers were up to no-good, that is why they were so antsy over our taking their pictures, as they supposed we were doing.”

This reminded me of the experience of some National Geographic writers/photographers who were accosted and detained by soldiers in the early days of OBJ’s administration. Was it Ed Kashi of National Geographic that said, “Nigeria is a country of many shadows. The more shadows you uncover, the more there are to uncover.”? I am not sure of who it was that made that statement. Nigeria will get better when all of us, individually, begin to uncover the dark shadows in the crevices and all the unseen inner recesses of our hearts and our souls.

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A journey of a thousand miles ….

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A journey of a thousand miles always start with the first step. And so, at long last I’ve come to the end of AMERiCANAH – Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s latest novel.
I picked up this title at MMA2 around April this year. My daughter who was reading, That Thing Around Your Neck another title from her, quickly borrowed the novel from me. Not long afterwards, she returned it telling me she has finished reading it. Commenting on the book and comparing it with her other three titles, she said, “if you look at her, you will not even know that she can talk o.” I guessed she was referring to her simple youthful picture perfect African beauty elegantly captured on the front or back cover page of each of her novels. Such beauty, that beguiles Professor Adichie’s depth of thinking and knowledge.
I arrived on the rig before lunch time ended  on Friday and I finished my job not long afterwards. On this particular rig, getting a chopper flight back home may take another extra two, three or more days even after you’ve finished your job. Two chopper flights came on Saturday, but the dispatcher announced that at least one of us have to drop from the flight. The chopper must not carry overload. I decided to turn “unfortunately” to fortunate. I had my Americanah with me. Continuing from page 167 where I last stopped, the novel was un-put-off-able. I was equally unstoppable. And so I carried on until I finished it this evening.
Certainly, I am eagerly waiting for Professor Chimamada’s next book.

8-Sept-2013

A head-cap, a heirloom and a story.

In preparation for the Sunday church service, I was chatting with my wife. Addressing myself to her, I inquired, “which dress I’m I even going to wear for tomorrow’s church worship service self?” Before, she came forth with a suggestion, I opined, “I think I will wear any of those my wax prints. I will also like to use that my “green-cap” – the one I inherited from my late dad.” I now proceeded to retrieve the cap from the wardrobe. I tried the cap on before my mum who was playing and passing the time with her grand children.

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                  (Me @ 28)

The kids were all laughing and grinning as I put on the seemingly, to them, out-of-fashion cap. On seeing the cap on my head, my mum smiled, a knowing, reminiscing smile, “so this cap is still in existence?

That is the cap your dad wore on the day we got married. Actually, he was using it even before we got married.”

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(My mum & dad on their wedding day.)

I now proceeded to display the wedding picture that my dad and mum took on the day of their wedding fifty something years ago.

A scanned copy of that wedding picture (I got it from my uncle’s album) is permanently resident on all my mobile devices. With my mum, the kids and my wife, pouring over the picture displayed on my  Samsung Galaxy S3 while taking turns to admire the cap, irredentist Willy retorted,

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         (Willy with his mum)

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      (My wife with my mum)

“Daddy it’s like grandma got married when she was very young o.” To which I replied, “Yes she got married when she was very young. Probably, while she was still less than twenty.” I asked my mum,
“How old were you when you married my dad?” To which she replied, “I cannot remember my exact age then, but I gave birth to you after about two years of my marriage to your dad.’

This cap was worn by my late dad over 50 years ago when he and my mum tied the nuptial chord. Except for the slight fading-off of the original colours, it is still as sturdy and resillient looking. The cap looks as if it will last for at least another 50 years, provided it is not manhandled, mutilated or stolen.

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             (Obong – then)

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(Obong a.k.a Valiant – today)

Written on 18-August-2013