Daydah's World

Help give children a healthy start in life

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Wed, 18 May 2011 10:46:00 +0100

Hi,

Did you know that one out of three child deaths - a total of nearly 3 million each year - is caused by diarrhoea or pneumonia? But did you also know that we now have two new vaccines that will help stop these two killers? I just signed a petition asking the leaders of our government to make sure these two vaccines get to the children who need them most. Will you please sign the petition, too?

http://one.org/international/actnow/vaccines/index.html?rc=vaccinesintpaste

Together as ONE we can make a difference!

Thanks!

Pls be at alert with this info - these are 'Ember times'

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Thu, 7 Oct 2010 17:12:00 +0100

This is not a joke originator was at a crime watch meeting on 18th and the police requested this was sent out.

Worth Passing On!

This is happening now!

Sad, especially if you are inclined to 'help' people...

While driving on a rural end of the roadway on Thursday morning, I saw an infant car seat on the side of the road with a blanket draped over it. For whatever reason, I did not stop, even though I had all kinds of thoughts running through my head. But when I got to my destination, I called the Police and they were going to check it out. But, this is what the Police advised even before they went out there to check....

"There are several things to be aware of ... gangs and thieves are now plotting different ways to get a person (mostly women)to stop their vehicle and get out of the car.

"There is a gang initiation reported by the local Police where gangs are placing a car seat by the road...with a fake baby in

it...waiting for a woman, of course, to stop and check on the abandoned baby.

" Note that the location of this car seat is usually beside a wooded or grassy (field) area and the person -- woman -- will be dragged into the woods, beaten and raped, and usually left for dead. If it's a man, they're usually beaten and robbed and maybe left for dead, too.

DO NOT STOP FOR ANY REASON!!!

DIAL 9-9-9

AND REPORT WHAT YOU SAW, BUT DON'T EVEN SLOW DOWN.

" IF YOU ARE DRIVING AT NIGHT AND EGGS ARE THROWN AT YOUR WINDSCREEN, DO NOT STOP TO CHECK THE CAR , DO NOT OPERATE THE WIPER AND DO NOT SPRAY ANY WATER BECAUSE EGGS MIXED

WITH WATER BECOME MILKY AND BLOCK YOUR VISION UP TO 92.5%, AND YOU ARE THEN FORCED TO STOP BESIDE THE ROAD AND BECOME A VICTIM OF THESE CRIMINALS.

THIS IS A NEW TECHNIQUE USED BY GANGS, SO PLEASE INFORM YOUR FRIENDS AND RELATIVES.

THESE ARE DESPERATE TIMES AND THESE ARE UNSAVOURY INDIVIDUALS WHO WILL TAKE DESPERATE MEASURES TO GET WHAT THEY WANT."

Please talk to your loved ones about this. This is a new tactic used. Please be safe.

Get started NOW -- SEND THIS MESSAGE TO ALL YOUR FRIENDS AND LOVED ONES TO BE CAREFUL AND AWARE OF EVERYTHING AROUND THEM SO AS NOT TO BECOME A VICTIM.

Life is Beautiful

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 17:53:00 +0100

My father welcomed the visitors. The pastor's wife was smiling at me. Don would not look at me in the eye. And my brother was rubbing his tunny unconsciously: he was hungry.

After the welcome my dad asked the purpose of their visit. Don would still not look me in the eye. The pastor took over and apologized for barging into our home but said that it was necessary. He then proceeded to tell them a story.
"About a year ago I came to this lovely country with my two sons. I came to perform in a concert. My sons, being boys, wanted to have a feel of the town so they bribed their guard to take them to the hottest spot in town." The man glanced at his sons' bowed heads before he continued.
"They went to the university of Lagos, to the lagoon front. Now I can never recant exactly what happened because i was in my hotel room sleeping the vigil concert off, but I can say some things about that day. My sons ended up almost drowning that day. Someone saw the crowd watching and instead of joining in and staring like the others, leaped into the waters to save them. Then after ensuring that the boys were going to be alright, the person just disappeared into thin air. We offered prizes for the hero, we even offered prizes for anyone with information about the hero but the person refused to come forward. After a few months I wondered why. Was the person an angel? No, because eyewitness accounts said otherwise. Was he afraid to come forward? Most probably. Eventually I surmised that the person preferred God's reward instead of man's. But three months after I was having nightmares every fortnight wherein God was showing me the nasty terrible things that would happen to me if I didn't reward the good Samaritan. It became a quiet obsession to find him but I couldn't leave the States to do it myself. So I asked God to show me the man's face or give me unique clues that would aid in my search." he paused to say thanks to my mother who'd been handing out drinks to the guests. I was still frozen in my place.
"The first thing God told me was that the person was female. The second thing he showed me was that she was a student. The third thing He showed me was that she really did not want to be discovered. All I had to go by in terms of appearance was a silhouette. So I employed the services of a private investigator firm who sent Daniel here" he pointed at Don," to me. Going with what little I could give him he travelled to Lagos and gave me reports monthly. He eventually found the girl but insisted we needed time to understand why she would not come forward initially, which he did. Then he returned to the States to give me his final report."
"But what has that got to do with this early morning visit to our home?" asked Dad.
"The girl that saved his sons' lives is your daughter sir." replied Don.
"Its not possible," my father said with conviction.
"She can't even swim in the shallow area." added my brother with a teasing smile. "From what I heard and read about the swimmer girl, she's a fish, and that's definitely not my sister."
Then all eyes were on me. The pastor's family wanted me to open up and tell the truth. My family wanted me to deny it. My mother's was the only face without expression. I closed my eyes and whispered in the utter silence in the room.
"I did it." when the explosion I'd envisioned would take place if I was ever found out did not happen, I opened one eye to survey the people. My mother was smiling, my father's mouth was hanging open while my brother was looking at me as if I'd grown two horns on my head. I summoned up courage.
"I had been taking lessons at the pool house for a while. Then I went swimming often but that day I just happened to be around because I went for a stroll."
"Why didn't you tell us?" my dad asked.
"because you forbade us to go near any pool. Because telling you would mean I disobeyed."

"How did you find me?" I asked.
"It was not easy to track you down." He admitted, finally looking at me directly since he entered my home. "Nigeria is not a standard place and believe me, Lagos is messy. It was your love of water that gave you away. And your sense of honor. I persuaded George to offer you the job and was able to study you at close quarters for months."
"Study me?" I repeated. "You actually call our friendship that?"
"Well," he said looking stumped. "I was able to get to know you better D." He used the endearment he'd given me.
"What gave me away?" I had to ask.
"Well, you were the only one that had other reasons for the swimmer girl not coming forward for the prize." he replied. "I was not sure until you refused to collect a gift for saving that man's daughter. You kept saying it was not necessary."
"But you have actually betrayed me Don, or Daniel or whatever your real name is." I said more quietly.
"I did not want recognition. And I did not want my family to ever find out."
"Did you think we would eat you alive if we found out?" my mother cut in. I looked at her and wondered.

"I admit I would have tried my best to make sure you never enter water again," my father added.
"Well said Dad," my brother interrupted, making me smile because I knew it was true.
"But it didn't mean I would have amputated your limbs," my Dad continued. "You did a honorable thing. And we are proud of you."
I looked at both my parents and could not say anything.
"I encouraged my husband to try to find you," the pastor's wife spoke for the first time. "because I was indeed grateful to God for using you, and grateful to you for letting Him. My boys have changed tremendously since then. I know several of my close friends that would have said, Let the Patrol do their job, and walked away. I felt that what you did was not a random act of kindness and wanted to meet your family and congratulate your parents for bringing you upright despite this country's misgivings."
"Other people stood by and watched, but you did the right thing," added her husband. "We will be eternally grateful to you."
"Thank you for taking the trouble to find me sir," I said. "I hope God would stop giving you nightmares now."
Everyone laughed at that. I expected the whole thing to end there and there but the pastor was not having it. He insisted we go dress up and go out for breakfast. He assured my dad that it was all taken care of. By the time I had my bath and came out, I was not surprised to find my brother gisting with the boys, my father talking about banking with the pastor and my mother telling his wife about some of my escapades.
That left Daniel standing in the middle of the living room, alone. I went to sit at the dining stable rather than go to him. He came over. And proposed. Yes he proposed. I told him no immediately.
"Why?" he asked, looking genuinely hurt.
"Because I do not know you," I replied. "I didn't even have the honor of knowing your real name until a few minutes ago."
"Then permit me to introduce myself," He said. "My name is Daniel Donald Davidson, sometimes called 3D by friends. I work as a pri....."
"Why don't you fill her in over breakfast?" the pastor interrupted. "We are all ready to leave."

As we waved at the wonderful family when they dropped us later at the gate of the compound, I felt my family's eyes boring into my back. Because of a simple act I did without thinking months ago, we now had an invitation to visit one of the most influential pastors in the United States of America, and both my parents had job offers. My brother had a scholarship promise and I had an open invitation to come and work with the IT section of the pastor's church.

And I still had a marriage proposal. Of course It could not have turned out any better - it surpassed my dreams. And I did not expect any of this. I kind of thank God I didn't accept the prize, because what I am getting now was worth more than money could buy.

Life is predictable...or so I thought

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 14:26:00 +0100

Adriel....you will not believe what happened to me yesterday. I feel as if I am still dreaming.
Its as if I am day dreaming today and nothing is real.
The family of those boys who I saved came to my house yesterday. The whole family and their entourage of four cars and security came to the house. It was sunday morning and everyone was at home. We'd attended a night vigil the night before so no one was awake even at ten a.m.
I had just stood up to go and brush my teeth so I could go out and buy bread for the house and ingredients for making fried eggs, when I heard sirens.
My brother came out of his room seconds after, and I could see the alarm I felt mirrored in his eyes. As the sirens grew louder, my father came out his room as well,
"What do you think is going on?" he asked.
"Could an accident have happened this early morning?" my mother added as she entered the living room right behind him.
I just shrugged. I was in Jeans and my favourite worn out T shirt and all I wanted was to get the business of preparing breakfast over with so I could go back to reading my novel. I told them where I was heading and made for the door. I opened the door and stepped out, then turned and ran inside again. I had seen Don outside my house. And the boys I had saved. And their parents. I sat down at the living room and stared into space.
I was awakened from my trance by my mother's surprised shout.
"You mean you are still sitting here when you should have returned? Or you are back already?"
I didn't know what to say. What was Don doing with those people anyway?
Then we heard the doorbell. Mum stared at me with changing expressions on her face - first shock that I had not bought the bread, then disbelief that I was not going towards the door to open it automatically as I ought.
"You mean you cannot hear that doorbell?" she asked in her soft-and-deadly voice.
I watched my brother come out of his room to get the door, and I almost shouted at him not to answer it, but my brain could not come up with a tangible reason. If I shouted 'Ole!' [thief in Yoruba language] my dad would call the Police straight.
My heart was pounding as the seconds passed and I waited for him to turn around and tell me I had visitors. But he did not. Instead he opened the door wide.
Why? Was it because they were white that he let them in just like that? Or maybe because the elder man was a reknown pastor?
I stood up, then sat down again. I could feel my mother's gaze trying to tear away the reason for my odd behavior from me.
My father came into the living room just as the visitors sat down.
I felt the hair at the back of my neck rise. What did these people want from me?

Tis Over

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 14:04:00 +0100

Well,
Adriel, its all over...School is over, and my tenure at the pool house is over. And after two weeks in Ilorin, am back at home. It seems I made a mountain out of a molehill - my folks don't seem to recollect that I was gainfully employed at the pool now that I have stopped. Maybe they figured out that if it was a serious job, I wont have been able to travel to Ilorin for two weeks.

And He's also gone. I went to say hi to Ozzy yesterday and she told me he'd travelled back to the states. I don't know whether to be relieved or sad. On one side I am sure I could not find a guy that I was so in sync with in such a short time. On the other hand we'd probably have a relationship that wont last because of several things like the culture clash and the different backgrounds and all that.
Ozzy said she's enjoying her job - I am glad for that.
Another concert is coming up - Cannot believe its almost a year since the incident. And like all other news stories its dead and gone.
In retrospect, I look back at all the issues and challenges I had a year ago, and realize that they were not as earth-stopping as I thought they were at the time. My missing results issue has been resolved. My identity was never discovered, and my parents found out about my job and didnt commit murder. Life is okay, and I am brimming with new ideas and new challenges everyday.
The greatest challenge I think I'll have is forgetting Don....

Moving On

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 10:23:00 +0100

Well...

If you must know, I'm still tiptoeing around the house. Mum has not said anything, Dad has not said anything, but I am still at home, still being fed, and still being given my allowance.

It makes me wonder if I actually over-rated their reaction if they found out I was the person that saved those boys from drowning. Maybe they would have been proud of me. Maybe they would have believed me. Maybe they would have encouraged me to even do something with my talent so to speak.

I will never know for sure how they would have reacted though. Because I wont own up to doing that.

Its really funny, like it never happened, you know. School has returned to normal. George is happy that I stayed to work, but I am smarter than him. Some weeks ago a young slim tall girl came to meet me that she wanted to learn how to swim. She said her dream is to compete in the Olympics one day. The only glitch is her Dad is afraid of water as his little brother drowned when he was younger, but that was ages ago. Unfortunately his fear of water grew with him, and now none of his children knew how to swim, or were even allowed to go near any body of water bigger than a bathtub.

Ozioma a.k.a Ozzy was ready to bypass her father's fear to fulfill her dream. I have been teaching her for weeks now and I must confess she is an avid learner. I plan to groom her to take over from me when the semester ends in two weeks time.

Meanwhile, I do not understand what Don is up to. These days he's sooo reserved and has been watching me carefully like I will soon dissappear or something. The other day I was an hour late to the pool house, I met him at the entrance, walking back and forth like his wife was in the labour room giving birth. When he saw me he calmed down, and tried to pretend he had not been worried.

It is not comfortable to know that I do not know where I stand when it comes to him. To be honest, there is not definite label for our relationship, other than close friendship. And I don't want to be his Nigerian fling, as I know he would soon return to the States, but its becoming a source of worry for me.

Ok...I know I said I could not date anyone after Fred, but let's be realistic here, we are talking about a woman's fickle heart. Adriel, as a figment of my imagination I am sure you are sworn to secrecy so I can tell you this: I like Don. I like Don A LOT. Ok. I have said it out.

He's just confusing me. I must not forget the fact that the minute he's through with his research he'll be gone. I guess its a good thing I am grooming Ozzy for my job. When I quit finally it will end seeing Don all the time as well. And that is in another three weeks, when school ends.

I am thinking of travelling off somewhere, maybe go visit my cousins in Ilorin, Kwara state, or maybe go to Lekki and stay for a while. Hopefully the tension at home would have eased by the time I return.

Hopefully

Turmoil

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 10:57:00 +0100

Its been two days, Adriel, and she has not said a thing. Even Daddy has not said anything.

Yesterday I explained to Georgie what happened, and he was in the 'ki ni big deal?' group. He tried to understand though, and he's covering for me for the next three shifts, but he's not accepting my resignation.

I was still trying to explain my predicament, and how I could not continue working at the poolhouse after what happened, when I noticed a man and a little girl coming towards us at the pool side. The little girl I saved came back again to the pool with only her dad.

"Good evening," the man began and reached out his hand to Georgie for a handshake. But he ignored my hand and gave me a hug instead. The little girl raised her hands, and I automatically hugged her as well. I looked from father to daughter, and wondered the reason for their visit, as they didnt look like they were ready to swim. It didnt take long before I got the gist of their visit.

"Are you the head life guard at this establishment?" the man asked Georgie. By this time Don had seated himself comfortably within earshot. It crossed my mind briefly that he had been missing almost throughout yesterday, but it was only a fleeting thought.
Georgie nodded in affirmation.

"I would like to commend you," the man continued in his funny accent. "on the excellent training you gave your assistant here. She saved my only daughter for me yesterday, within ten seconds. I mean, one second I was laughing at a joke, and paddling water, the next I heard a scream. And the very next moment she dove in and saved my girl. I did not know that Africans could swim so well."

Georgie's facial expression had been changing as the man's words sunk in, but at his last statement it was stony.
Sensing that he'd made a gaffe, he grunted and continued. "I am here today to thank her for her honourable act. Where I come from, when a man," then glancing at me, he quickly added. "or woman saves your life. You owe that person your life until you can do the same for that person in return. I would like to recommend some sort of promotion for her, and also give her anything she requests, as a gift."

At this point all eyes shifted to me. I shook my head in refusal, then breathed in deeply, to calm myself down before speaking.

"I am greatly honoured," I began, taking his tack - official speech. "by your recommendation and gift, but I was only doing my duty as a lifeguard in this establishment, Sir. It was just my job. If Georgie here was the one on duty he would have done the same." I added, pointing to him.

"At least accept my gift," he insisted, beckoning another fellow who I had not noticed before to come closer. The second man quickly brought out a pen and small notebook, and waited, his hand poised over it ready to write everything I said next down.

I shook my head again. "I am very grateful for the offer, and the gift, but I must refuse it. It goes against my work ethics to receive gifts for doing my job Sir."

Georgie spoke up when he saw the confusion in the man's face.

"Sir, I must say that I do not understand her as well." He began. "Here you are, ready to give her a gift for saving your daughter's life yesterday, but she is here to resign."

"Resign?" repeated the man, obviously more confused now.

"Resign?" echoed Don.

"Yes Sir," answered Georgie. "She wanted to resign. I was just pleading with her when you arrived."

"Please don't leave," the little girl chipped in. "How will you save other children?"

I looked at the scene. This was Nigeria for God's sake. Georgie was refusing my resignation because he needed an assistant, I'm sure. And the little girl must think that children always got drowned here. If I wasnt there, someone else would do it.

I resisted the urge to shake my head again.

"Ok," I said instead. "I'll stay."

Don breathed, Georgie smiled. But the girl's father still refused to be apeaced. He wanted to compensate me. He finally left with my phone number.

I refused to speak to Don about it. But I must tell you, the way he didnt insist on talking it out, it got me thinking....maybe he'd another love interest now.

I still have to stand the silence at home. Let me prepare for that mental torture instead of worrying if the guy I have a crush on has stopped liking me back.

God dey

Going Home...

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 12:08:00 +0100

I am dreading going home....and I am sure you all know why.

Its not that she'll kill me or cut off my arm or something, but I cannot imagine what i must endure for letting them down like this.

Some might ask, 'ki ni big deal? (What is the big deal)....So you learnt how to swim secretly....So you saved a bunch of kids from drowning...so you took a job doing that part time....so you were caught...

You didn't do anything horrible! You were not caught with a man on top of you...You did not have to confess that you were pregnant...You were not caught with weed in your purse....You were not caught dancing topless in a strip club (the catcher would also have some explaining to do, I bet)...You were not caught doing yahoo-yahoo

But there is a big deal. This is about being truthful, about being trustworthy. This is about being reliable, about being true to my word. This is about whether they can trust that whatever I say is true....

I wonder if they will ever believe me again......

And I still have to sleep in that house...Pray for me....I am going to need it.

Scary....and scarier

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Sun, 14 Sep 2008 11:32:00 +0100

ER...
Adriel, what am Isupposed to do now?
Ok, let me rewind.

Mum found out.

Yes, I just said what I just said.

Mum found out about my poolhouse job. I really don't know what happened and why I didn't act fast enough but I guess most of the time, life is full of 'if only I had..' sentences.

I was called by Georgie yesterday morning, and told that he wouldn't be showing up on Tuesday, cos of family issues or something. After probing gently he confessed that it was his turn to take their mother to the hospital. It was not a problem for him except that he had to stay with her all day. As Georgie hated hospitals, he was already gagging at the thought, but he remembered that we had some expatriates booked in for the day, so we couldn't afford to be absent.

I got there an hour before noon, and set myself up on one of the lounge chairs, the one from where I could see the whole length of the pool with out turning my head. By the time the expatriates arrived, all they could see was a slim lady with a large fedora hat on her head, and big sunglasses on her face. The attendant pointed to me and I waved - that is the assurance-that-there-is-a-lifeguard-on-duty point.
The men nodded their head and pushed the kids towards the changing room.

There were three men, two women, and five kids. I sighed, my day was going to be loaded. For three hours, I watched the kids and smiled at their antics in the water.

That's the difference between American kids and African kids - while African kids are concentrating hard and trying to learn how to swim, American kids just let the water take over - they just swim!

I took my eyes away from them just to search for my phone (this is Lagos, anywhere you are, always check that your phone is still with you), when I heard a scream.
At the deep end, a child was struggling with the water. I stared harder - it was the youngest child of the brood. The parents were swimming towards her but I noticed that they would not reach her in time, as they were on the other side. I ran closer to her on land before diving in.

Five minutes later she was coughing out the remaining water in her lungs and clinging to her mother tightly. The father was thanking me for about the fifteenth time and I was smiling in relief. she was alright.

I turned around to return to my lounge chair and bumped into my mother. She had been standing at the balcony on the upper floor of the poolhouse, where some lecturers loved to sit and relax in the cool breeze from the lagoon. She had seen everything, and only came down to confirm whether I was the one.

I didn't couldn't say anything. What was the right thing to say? I'm sorry Mum but I've been a strong swimmer for the past eight months?

My problem is, I don't even know what kind of punishment she'll mete out. And I have to go home to her later.

Any suggestions?

ELECTIONS ARE COMING CLOSER

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 00:47:00 +0100

Adriel, the country’s national elections are coming closer and closer. This will be the first transition from a democratic government to another democratic government in the country. And the enormity of the whole thing baffles me, because the usual strife is still going on – there are still tribal wars, and jungle justice fights, and massacres happening around the country. I wonder sometimes how things would have turned out if Nigeria was not amalgamated, or if the Biafra War had been a success and Biafra had broken out as another country.
Here we are now – the strike will soon be called off – or so we hear every week. I am still working at the poolhouse, but on specific days – Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. These are the days that my Mum either goes to church, or has meetings that guarantee her coming home late.

Yes I took the job, and yes I know the risk. But I needed the money and I needed the chance to see Don more frequently. Yes I have a crush on him – I wont deny the truth, especially when its you I am talking to.

My brother hasn’t discovered anything fishy yet – I owe that good fact to his girlfriend who is really taking up most of his thought processes and time. Her only rival is his books for school. The young man is already talking of planning for marriage and getting a job as early as possible and saving towards his children’s school fees, while I am boyfriend – less. God is in control, right? Right.

I am really balancing on a thin edge as it is. If Mum ever finds out, I know I am in trouble. But other things are occupying her mind right now, so I am safe…I think.
Its been a long time now, so I don’t think the ‘swimmer girl’ issue will come up again, though lately I have been getting the feeling that something is about to happen. Like when I heard that the international pastor – the boys’ father, was returning to Nigeria for another program – my heart did a double beat. That usually happens when I am about to get into trouble with my mother or something. I have been keeping a low profile with her since then.

Don on the other hand, seems to really want to make other people think that we have a relationship or something. The other day a teenager came up to me and asked me why I was ‘hoarding’ the guy. I was trying to understand what she was saying for a few minutes – you know that every generation has its own slangs and stuff like that.
When I told Don, he burst out laughing, and told me afterwards that the girl in question had come to ask him out. He wouldn’t tell me his reply to her though.
I just wonder…..

LIFE GUARD POSITION

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Fri, 30 May 2008 18:04:00 +0100

Adriel, would you believe what happened yesterday? I was offered a job as female lifeguard at the pool house! I know it’s the answer to our prayers – since the university is still closed two months after we are supposed to have resumed, a job to while away the time seems rather appropriate, but I had not thought to even check in those quarters.

I didn’t even have such faith in my swimming – I mean, if I hadn’t saved those boys, the standard answer to the question, “Can you swim?” would still be no. right now it’s still “Not really”. Now you can imagine my surprise when the only life guard at the pool, my very good friend, George (who I call Georgie most times), approached me and told me about the open position. In answer to my protests, he said the job was stress free, and in shifts, and of course since I was a lady, I was entitled to lighter shorter shifts, and would handle children most of the time. And the pay was good for whiling away time. Before I could think up a reason to refuse gracefully, Don came over and insisted that I was qualified for the job already since I always seemed to have my eye on the kids’ end of the pool watching out for any danger. Besides, he argued, I would have no excuse not to come more often to the club house, and I got to do something I loved to do – and be paid for it. I could not argue with them. I merely reminded them both that I did not have any first aid training to do the job. Georgie brushed that aside with one wave of his hand, insisting that my instincts had already taught me most of what I need to know.

I finally told them that I would think about it. They let the issue go for the time being.

They don’t really know the dilemma they just presented to me: Mum is due back in the country next week, my brother keeps telling me his new girlfriend really wanted to go swimming and if I knew any pool place that was not too expensive for him to take her to. And I didn’t want to be discovered. I didn’t want Mum to find out that I had not only been swimming, I had become so good at it that I was a life guard at the school pool house.

Adriel I had this fantasy of inviting my brother and his chick over to the pool house, and my brother giving in to the girl’s pleas to join her in the pool, only to go too far too quickly and I dive into the water to save him, and after he’s alright, Mum shows up crying in relief that she had not lost both her children in one day, and thanking God that I had learnt how to swim.

But that is a fantasy. You and I know that can never happen.

But the chances of being discovered, especially now that the school is still on strike is very low. Mum’s office is a very long distance from the club, and she never really goes there – I use her membership card to pay a reduced price to swim, otherwise, the card would have been uselessly lying somewhere in the house.
Hmm… we have to think about it…seriously think about it….the pay is very good, and it would help me in getting some new clothes you know, and it is a honest job after all. I’ll just have to remember to let them know that the second we resume, I would be facing my books solidly.

If I take the job.

SCHOOL BREAK, LESSONS LEARNT

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Fri, 30 May 2008 17:57:00 +0100

Well, I know you should be used to my lapses now, Adriel, but as a figment of my imagination, I am sure that you have resigned yourself to your fate…lol…ok. I shall try to treat you better this upcoming semester. Anyway, guess what happened after the exams? I met this bloke at the pool, supposedly from the States. He’s nice and young and a very good swimmer. He’s also a very patient teacher – believe me, he’s very patient cos he seems to derive some kind of joy in helping people learn how to be swimmers. I once told him that he’d missed his calling – he was supposed to be the trainer for those Navy Seals people that had to know how to swim first before going about their secret missions.

Wait…I’m rambling. Anyway, exams are over, and I had to redo only one of those courses’ exams. So the damage to my grade point average is quite minimal. Mum is out of the country to some conference for shrinks around the world, and it’s a relief because she is not studying me with those knowing eyes around the house. Towards the day she was traveling, several times I had the urge to scream, “Yes! You are right! I have been hiding something important from you!” It was quite an effort to actually fight my mouth – it just wanted to blurt it out. My younger brother is so busy trying to maintain his first class grade point average and still create a social life for him self at the same time. It is not an easy task, he tells me all the time, or as we say it in Nigeria, “Ko easy!”

He’s so busy that he doesn’t realize that Mum is trying to make me confess something
with her silence-works-wonders method. If he could tell he would join forces with her as usual and frustrate me out of the house – which is not an option because school is on break.

I’m rambling again.

I was talking about Douglas, or donald or what’s his name – the American. Ok, I know it will not amount to anything but I have to tell you Adriel, the guy is cute! And he is well built. Ok, I hear your preaching in my head – “Thou shalt not lust after a man”. But surely I can do it with only you knowing, can’t I? No one else would know. Honestly the guy is so cute, but I am beginning to think he might be gay – can you imagine he keeps turning down offers by babes, and I do mean babes – fine, hourglass – shaped beautiful ladies, not girls like me, with my chubby cheeks and irrepressible grin. Just last week, this fine babe that I have only seen in campus magazine came to the poolside to “relax”, and before I could say Jack Robinson, they were having a conversation.

Adriel, between you and me, her phoneh (phonetics) was forced jare. I mean, you could hear the false ‘h’s that she was putting before every vowel. Don had been sitting by me – he’d come over the second I emerged from the changing room, and started attacking me for coming an hour late, when she had called back to the pool for help. Apparently he had been helping her perfect her backstroke or something. I simply pushed him towards her, and told him to give me time to settle down. My guess was that the helping hand he was giving her would turn to lunch and then to a dinner invitation. A fine girl like that could not possibly pass up such a tasty morsel (yes I know he’s not edible, but Adriel, the guy is good enough to eat). If you had been there I would have bet my remaining allowance on it, but do you know, Don disappointed me o – and the chick of course. He kept coming back to me to talk, and even in the pool, he would swim towards me for a few minutes.

Come to think of it, my conclusion has been revised. Its either he’s gay, or he’s trying to portray to the world that we have something going on. Now you know that After Fred, I simply cannot even cultivate any kind of feelings for another guy again. I mean, would I not be stupid, knowing that all they want is sex, and I do not come with that option (or even the urge). Plus I know now that Fred must have had what one of my crazy friends calls “an arrangement of mutual agreement” friend (AMA), since he did not pressure me for it in the first few months. If Don is gay, it will be a shame because he deserves some TLC from a loving and giving woman. But that is his choice.
Everyone has finally forgotten “the swimmer girl”. I am so glad that is over. Its been so long now – about four months right? I am sorry that I have not been very constant with my letters, but you will understand that I had exams and then I had to settle that missing result issue and …and… a lot of other things. Sorry. Anyway, the story is dead, I clipped the articles in the newspaper though, so I can keep them and show my grandchildren in case they decide to be heroic, to show them that they can help out, but for the right reasons…lol. Don’t mind me, it’s not as if I don’t daydream sometimes about where I would be right now if I had accepted that prize. I know that I would have changed a lot of things for my family, and even friends. But I crash land again back to reality, and like today, decide to work hard at making money.

Lessons learnt….hmmm…let me see, for one, I still have to live with those …er…babes in that room for another semester, so I must never let my guard down. Ever since that showdown in the room, the three evil babes have been watching me with malice in their eyes. Even my cheerful greetings does not get through to their thick brains. My own upbringing frowns at keeping malice, so I see them as children still sulking over flimsy issues. As I do not really spend time in the room, it is not an issue for me. ijeoma on the other hand, is even more friendly. She got my number from one of my classmates that came to look for me (I was careful not to give her personally), in the name of having credit to use to call me so I could be located, and since then she calls me just to greet me almost every two days. Its disconcerting, because I have a feeling she thinks because I defended her to those hypocrites, I did not disapprove of what she did. I am still trying not to offend her sensibilities (remember she’s a tall, lithe, and strong babe, with every – present manicured talons), but if I reach my limit I hope I do not do anything drastic for my health.
Then another lesson I learnt this semester is that I must check my results with the lecturers in charge, even before the general list is pasted. This is necessary so that I can take the necessary precautions, like searching for a result if it’s missing. That is about it.
Oh, and another lesson is to always seek to help, but not for recognition. I still feel good about not coming forward, and I enjoy the really good feeling a lot, particularly when I have another bout of depression about being good for nothing and stuff like that. It did wonders for my soul when I was depressed after breaking up with my ex. I felt worthless and absolutely ….er… not worthy of another man’s love, but then I remembered that even if I didn’t deserve another man’s love again, at least I was not worthless – while about fifty people stood by watching I had saved two precious lives. If that didn’t mean God still counted me useful then my thinking faculties needed retuning.

I think overall, I have decided to find ways to help others.

EXAMS NEARLY OVER, ROOM FIGHT

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 16:02:00 +0100

Adriel, what do you do when the two people you are trying hard to avoid begin a fight over you?

Well that is what happened in the room this morning. For the past three weeks, Ijeoma has been inviting me for one party after the other, and I have been succeeding in avoiding them, but it was not until two days ago that she really saw where I stood.
She had come into the room before noon, as usual, from one of her ‘outings’, and she had promptly fallen asleep. Patricia, Stella and Bukola, thinking that she had gone out again, began their usual backbiting. They actually abused her, called her an AIDS victim, and enough names.

I was trying to type out a draft for my class project from the material I had garnered at the library the night before, and soon my ears were filled. I think I’d just about had enough of their hypocrisy. I turned my sharp tongue on them and gave them a piece of my mind. Bukola was a prostitute, and Stella was in her second extra year, with another one looming in the future if she didn’t read her books.

I was incensed with Patricia the most, because it was she that Ijeoma chose as confidante in the room, so I didn’t understand why they were making Ijeoma seem as if she was any different from them. I was just the effico, the bookworm, with the chubby cheeks that got along well with them, but I was really mad that day. Stella tried to shout back at me, calling me a hypocrite, and asking me why I didn’t preach to Ijeoma if I knew that what she was doing was bad, and I told her that it was not my place to judge, and that I didn’t condemn either. I told them that I had had enough of their hypocrisy, and that whatever they wanted to say about Ijeoma, they should always wait until she return.

By the time I had finished my tirade, I had packed all my books and laptop, and was heading for the door, when Bukola, who was not a student anyway, grabbed my bag and started demanding to know what had given me the courage to talk to her and her friends like that.

Anyone that grew up in Nigeria would know that it is always wise to run away so you can fight again. Three of them surrounded me, and began to call me names – goody two shoes, miss know it all, miss effico, miss I am better than you. But I stood my ground, and began tapping my foot. When they saw that I was not moved, Patricia shoved me, I staggered back two steps but shook my head. I was not going to payback – anyone caught or reported fighting was immediately suspended, whether you were on your right or not. I didn’t want to have an extra year because I missed exams that I would have done if I had not been in a fight. I just tried to go to the door again, but Patricia grabbed my bag and held on.

That was when Ijeoma opened the curtain in her corner (she had curtained off her corner so she could have some privacy, so we didn’t know she was still in bed, as we didn’t hear any movements behind the curtains and no one thought to check). She ordered them to release me, told them to face her directly, after all I was defending her.

Now, Ijeoma is a beautiful, lithe and agile six feet two inches tall, taller than all of them, and she had talons for fingernails, ready to destroy the toughest face that dared to oppose her. She was tough, and she was a Warri chick so anyone itching for a fight with her must have signed her will just in case. Or gotten married so it would not matter if any guy didn’t want her battered body after the experience. It was because of these that I was careful in turning down her offers.

She stood up and stared them down, abusing them in Warri vernacular. She opened the door and told me to go and finish my homework in the next room, while she dealt with the other girls. Later I heard the gist of what happened, and it turned out that Ijeoma had practically shredded them to pieces with her words, and promised to expose them to the authorities. I wondered why they could not reply her, or threaten to do anything in return.

By the time I returned to sleep in the room that night, there was a tense atmosphere. The only person happy to see me was Ijeoma, and she had gone to great lengths to cook food and dish mine into a cooler. I apologized (as usual), and told her that I had eaten already. She thanked me loudly for not being a hypocrite like the others, and promised to repay my kindness one day.
I was relieved. Bukola’s gang have tried luring me into their group of aristos, but I had been graciously declining. I could not help hearing them when they slandered Ijeoma, and then welcomed her with open arms when she returned. And the fact that Ijeoma always bought me gifts, and (apart from Patricia), was closest to me, they must have felt resentment, that maybe I was just doing the holier – than – thou acting for them in the room.

Anyway, I have papers tomorrow. Gotta go.

THE SWIMMER GIRL MAKES NEWS AGAIN

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 15:50:00 +0100

Adriel, I am beginning to think that someone is deliberately keeping the story alive. In the Guardian newspaper, last Saturday’s edition, the story was there again. But this time it was about heroism, that despite the fact that there were not many young heroes in the country, there were still some to emulate, in terms of bravery, grace, and patriotism. I like the piece though.

It earmarks the reasons I stand my ground by not revealing my identity. I did not do it for the money.
I did not do it because I wanted fame.
I did not do it to be noticed.
I did it…. I just acted out of compassion.

Between you and me, I didn’t even know that I could swim that well, and under such pressure. It should be God taking the glory, not me. Even if I accepted the gift and gave it to charity, I would have exposed myself and my family to God – knows – what.

Anyway, life goes on. I actually checked the story according to CNN, and I found out that I was described as a local girl. That irked me a bit. I got the full names of the boys anyway, and tried google with that. As an aside, its funny how we create words from nonsensical words that have no meaning, and it catches on everywhere, like how the word ‘google’ has become a common word. We even use it as a verb – googling, or googled. Right now my word processing software still puts a red wriggly line under the words, but I expect that the latest versions will reflect the new words pretty soon.

According to the articles I got from google, the boys are doing fine. I am glad about that, because I didn’t want it to be a case of ‘Final Destination 4’, where every body would still die, if you know what I mean. You might wonder why I checked up, well I had an accident this morning.

Well, almost. You see, I was riding an okada to get to church on time and the …er….okada driver must have felt omnipotent, because he went speeding to overtake a gigantic petrol tanker. I mean, picture a small Suzuki motorbike, versus a huge 33000litre petrol tanker. I was just shouting ‘Blood of Jesus’, and pinching the driver to slow down, but he was behaving as if he had no sensory neuron in his skin. Eventually the tanker had had enough, but instead of speeding off, or even letting the bike pass, he decided to force us to the side of the road. By this time I was shouting on the guy to stop moving.

When he finally stopped, I jumped off and began thanking God for saving my life. I could barely walk, but I was alive. The tanker driver and an Army man came down from the tanker and came towards the bike. If it was possible to disappear right then like Mr. Claypole in Rent-a-ghost, I would have squeezed my nose hard upon sighting the Army officer’s boots – not the total him o, just his boots. But I remained where I was, all thoughts of getting to church forgotten.

You should have seen how they beat this guy up. I mean, he must have had it coming, because the tanker driver said he knew the guy. I had to wait so I could at least pay the guy for the halfway journey, but I could not stand there and stare. On the other hand, if I plead for him, God knows what the Army official would say or do. After swallowing my spit for the fourth time, I just shouted at them all – plus the crowd that had gathered.

“Its enough! The guy don learn his lesson! Haba! E no go fit waka from hia now!”
That got their attention. The Army official stopped pounding the guy and stood straight. I used the opportunity to press the fare into the guy’s hands, and give him advice.
“Next time you will have the patience to WAIT.”

It was a miracle that I walked off unharmed – as I was leaving, the customary mob by other motorbike drivers was just arriving. The tanker driver and his friend also took it as a good time to go.

So, you see, I got to church late, and attended third service instead, but it was worth it, because I danced and danced during praise worship, in gratitude for saving my life and my legs – I cannot describe the ward that has been created for okada accidents in Igbobi Hospital to you – its really terrible. The mere thought of the place brings to mind the vivid picture of several desolate men with one and a half limbs all staring into space in grief.

I just had to make sure it was not life imitating art, that those boys were okay.
Thank God they are.

EXAMS ARE AROUND THE CORNER

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 15:26:00 +0100

Adriel, exams are around the corner and I still do not know if I should register the first missing result. My mother has been of such tremendous help, that I keep thanking God for making sure that I was a lecturer’s daughter in that horrible school.

She was able to pull some strings and one of the lecturers miraculously ‘found’ my missing exam script, and marked it. His result made it in time to be submitted for the semester, but the other lecturer insisted I re-write the paper. Just picture it – through no fault of mine, I am required to retake an exam I did not fail, and that will be recorded as a failed grade against my first attempt anyway.

You tend to wonder where the justice keepers of the world reside, right?

I am just tired. I have a friend who had to retake two courses three times before passing them. And guess what? The first two times she wrote those courses, their results were missing. Yes, missing.

And we are students of one of the sought – after universities in Nigeria.

God is in control, right?

SUSPICION

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 11:23:00 +0100

I am beginning to think that some people actually know that it was me. Last night I went to the Akintunde Ojo Library – which is an open air library that students can read in, to read for my upcoming tests in peace, or so I thought. One guy walked up to me, and started the usual scenario I hate so much.

“Hi,” he began. “You look kind of familiar.”

And I know that I am supposed to play along and help try to remember where we must have met, never mind that most often the two people are total strangers, but the discussion would have reached the point where it would only seem natural to exchange names, and maybe numbers. I didn’t have the time though. I needed to read for three tests next week, which was why I went there instead of my usual place where my classmates can locate me.

“I don’t think so.” I said, and looked back at my book. Let me confess, the instant load of guilt that burst in me at being so rude was enough to make me look back up at the guy’s retreating back to apologize. But he was still standing there.

“I’m Bolaji,” he said instead. “I’m a year three student in Law, and I think I know who you are.”
“Really,” was all I could say, my heart thumping with the fear that I was found out.
“Yes,” he emphasized. “You are related to Lolade Adesola aren’t you?”
I almost breathed out a sigh in relief. “Yes I am.”
“May I sit down with you?” he asked.
Uh oh.

“The seat is already taken,” I replied quickly. “The guy there said he’ll be back soon.”
“Ok,” Bolaji said. “I just wanted to catch up on my buddy. How is Lolade doing?”
“She’s fine,” I replied with a smile. “She’s doing really great. I’ll tell her you asked after her, er….”

He helped me with the name, and I made a mental note to write it down the minute he walked away. He asked after my name and then said he would see me around.

Ten minutes after he’d walked off, I was still staring into space. What would I have done if he’d announced that I was the swimmer, right there in about 50 people’s earshot? I asked myself.

What with the $200 dollar gift for anyone with information on the …’the swimmer girl’ that everyone was searching for. I don’t know why the press and media generally would not let the story die.
I mean, what did it matter? The whole crew that came for that concert, including the children where back in the States where they belonged. It was over a month ago now, but the story keeps cropping up, especially when some people made claims and were proven wrong.

The funniest one was the man that swept the lagoon front. He said that he’d been transformed into a fish and had saved the children, then disappeared. He said the swimmer girl had been him, and he’d had to use a big cloth to cover his fins from view when he returned (thus explaining the grey area of the swimmer girl dressing up and walking away). Of course there had been eye witnesses that saw the contours on the girls body identifying her as female, and even saw her dripping hair, and feminine slippers.

What finally killed his assertion was the fact that some one he had had an argument with at the same time, at the other end of the lagoon front, came forward to testify. That killed his $1000 dreams.

I didn’t want to come forward because of many reasons.

One. I knew that I would be asked to give a statement, and my mother was not supposed to know I had been swimming. In fact she used the incident to warn me from going to the pool afterwards, and you should have heard her go on and on about how even American children didn’t know how to swim, and who was I to feel that I could. I made a promise to her not to swim about six months ago, and if she found out that I had broken my word I would be in trouble, serious trouble.

Two. It would be a highly publicized event, which meant that my face would be pasted all over the news network, and in the papers, and my name would be right beside each picture. If you are a Nigerian, you will understand that by doing that, you have just signed your death warrant. Your whole family will never be safe anymore. In Nigeria we have so many intelligent people, but some use their God – given brilliance for other things besides creating brilliant small companies with giant concepts that would grow the Nigerian economy. It’s a thing of ease to trace people’s backgrounds, whereabouts and families in Nigeria. And there is no such thing as witness protection program like in the States. And don’t tell me that I can give conditions that my identity not be shared with the press or any other person.
My guy, this is Nigeria. Wake up and smell the coffee – there is no such thing as secrecy here.

Three. What about my school grades? Those terrible lecturers would just have another load of ammunition against me. Taunts like ‘Instead of reading her books she is swimming across the Atlantic.’ ‘Stupid girl’. ‘Let me see how she will do well in her academics with all the stardom going into her head’ would just be floating around me. It might even backfire and those terrible Physics lecturers that I am currently pleading with to let me check for my exam scripts, will also say the same things.

On the other hand, having $1000 in my bank account is not such a bad idea. All the things we need in the house will be taken care of, and you know that there is no feeling like having money in the bank that wont finish in a long long time. My problem is, that is the ONLY reason for going forward. And I have three reasons for not going forward. Besides, I am not a money – chasing oriented person.

No. It is better this way.
The boys are saved, alive and well. I am alive and safe and well. My family is alive and safe and well. My grades are not affected by any extra sadism from any angle. And I am making progress in the location of my missing results.
God is really in control.

A WEEK LATER, STILL HOT NEWS

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 11:12:00 +0100

I got back to the hall this evening, and saw a poster at the entrance, confirming a rumor I‘d heard earlier. There was definitely something wrong with this campus. Adriel, do you know that the students are still talking about the rescue of last week? There was even a rumor of a $1000 reward for the life guard that saved those kids. Now what I do not understand is why the press would think I would bite something like that. What use would the fame do me anyway? Would it help me to find the missing results that I still had pending on my head? Would it solve the case of my not having to retake those courses? If it would you know I would be the first to contact them. But the lecturers involved are terrible people: one is a goblin – like lecher and the other is a frustrated tyrant that really despises any student in my department. He doesn’t need a reason – just being a student from Computer Science department is good enough for him. I had already lost hope of finding those missing results.
Adriel, I have news for you – that young handsome guy that is supposed to be my boyfriend showed up on Friday. And guess what? He had practically no reason for the three month silence. Nothing at all. A part of me was not surprised. By the time he was leaving, I had shut down my heart completely – it was on stand by before. And to think I was worried sick all that time, thinking that he might have been in an accident on his way to see me or something.
Well, he’s history! I sent him a mail calling the relationship quits on Tuesday. He replied, asking me what was going on, but I insisted that I preferred us being just friends. I broke up with him before he broke my heart completely. Of course he was cheating – how else can you describe a situation where you didn’t feel the need to see, call or reply your girlfriend’s mails for three months? There was always another woman involved believe me.

Well, now that he’s gone, I think I need to reassess what I really want in a guy. Because, between you and me, I know deep down that I was not physically attracted to him – I could not even kiss him on the cheek! Now I was either extremely shy or just not feeling that part of it. Anyway, that is something to think about another day. This evening I have to find a way to avoid Ijeoma’s still – standing invitation to her …er…..father’s friend’s party on the island. She’s a nice girl, but all the other roommates call her an Aristo chick* behind her back, something I do not like to be part of, which is another reason for not staying in the room as much as possible. Ok, let me give you a brief intro into what life on campus is like.
Not everyone stays on campus to be closer to the school. Campus is like a market place: people are there to purchase or sell different things, some are there to catch all the excitement they possibly can, by going to parties and keeping late nights, something they would never enjoy if they were at home. Some, like me, need extra time to read, and study, and therefore require the extra hours that others that have to go home every day would normally spend on that journey. Some are not even students. How come? You ask, Well the system is porous, and the campus has a reputation of harboring lovely ladies that are willing to help you have a good time – for a price of course.
The best thing to do is mind your business and concentrate on the primary reason you are there in the first place – what ever it is. Since mine is to read and excel, I try to focus on that, and ignore the lures of others.
My roommates are all a mixture of these kinds. Ijeoma is a good –time girl, and she keeps thinking she is doing me a favor by inviting me out to be with her…er…’older’ friends. I do not see things in that light, but how do I put it delicately without being even worse than the other hypocrites in the room, who abuse her at her back, and share in her money afterwards? I really do not want to sound like them at all.
That is another food for thought. For another day though.

Did I just do that?

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Tue, 5 Feb 2008 15:15:00 +0100

Yes I just walked away, unnoticed. The beautiful thing about my gown was that it was a wrap-around, so it was a simple thing to wear it back, and not be noticeably wet. I walked quickly to the club pool and entered. Five minutes later I was in the pool with two other people, showing mild interest as sirens came towards our end of campus.

The fact that some people almost drowned, and I was able to save them had not sank into my skull yet. Iwas still worried about the four courses from physics that i might have to register for next week. I left the pool by 6.30pm. I was refreshed, and I had reached my "topit" level.
Definition of topit - the level where I let go and let God top it with a miracle.

When I got back to the hall, there was so much noise about the incident, I began to wonder if it was the same one. But the focus was not what I expected.

Some were exclaiming how God had saved Nigeria from total shame - they claimed that the boys were the sons of the internationally famous Bishop T. D. who had come to the country for a much popularized concert.

Others even said the person might not have been human (I chuckled at that one), because of the "inhuman strength" the person must have had to save both boys.

Some were disgusted at what they heard that the swimmer had done - the person that saved the boys from drowning (on some accounts it was a female, on others it was too athletic to be a female so it was a male), just dressed up and walked away. just walked away from the whole scene.

I was surprised at that one. I didn't expect the people to be angry and disgusted at that. It was the most logical thing to do for me at the time. What would I have been waiting for?

Strangest thing

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Tue, 5 Feb 2008 14:57:00 +0100

As I was saying, I decided to go swiming at the staff club pool. Since Mum's a member, i can do that anytime. The club pool is just beside the lagoon front, and I strolled towards the entrance, lifting my head to feel the breeze whip past my ears (I love to do this), when I heard a scream. I walked all the way to the lagoon front, and was shocked to see two boys drowning.
Honestly, they were drowning and the currents of the lagoon was taking them farther away from the water's edge. The funniest part was that people were standing there, watching!
I mean it. People were watching as these boys struggled with the currents. I reacted as I came closer to the edge - I removed my gown and swung it on a nearby tree, removed my slip-ons, and watch, put the watch into one of the shoes, and put it by the tree. I took a deep breath, and tried to calm myself down, then dove in.
Ten minutes later, I had handed over the weaker boy to someone on the shore, and swam back for the other one.
It was all over in thirty minutes. The boys were coughing, and spurting out water, and a big black man was trying to make calls to someone on his cell phone for help. The crowd had gathered by then, and another guy kept shouting that everyone not crowd over the boys.

My work was done. I picked up my shoes, grabbed my gown and walked away.

Trouble

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Tue, 5 Feb 2008 14:51:00 +0100

An amazing thing happened today. Well, after terrible disaster actually. During the week, the department finally pasted all our results - you know from year one. Under normal circumstances, they were supposed to paste each result after each semester, but not this department. We were just seeing our results for the whole year one, and year two for the first time.
Imagine that! And the looks on people's faces began to change as they saw theirs. I waited for the crowd to reduce before venturing near. You should imagine the look on my face when I saw what was there. I had four carry-overs!
I could not grasp it. I could not even fathom the meaning of that! I am in my third year, about to register for my courses, and I hav just realized that I have four courses to repeat. I walked back to my hall slowly.
i tried to recall where I had gone wrong - those courses were all physics borrowed courses. I wasnt dull in the subject so there had to be another explanation. Maybe my matriculation number got missing or was not registered when it was given to me, by the department. Maybe my own results were mistaken for anothers. Maybe .... maybe...by the time I got to my room (third floor), I could not come up with any other excuse.
God had to find a way out for me.
Ok. Enough of the gloom. by 4.30pm I could not sleep, I was really gloomy, and sad, and I could not think of a way out of my predicament. My roommates were curious as to why I came to the room early, and why I refused to go with them to the party they have tonight. So I decided to go for a walk - to the lagoon.
On second thoughts, I changed to my swim suit, wore my clothes on top, and continued towards the lagoon. I had started the day with a happy mind. But the day would close with my mind thoroughly tied up in bits.

Longest time

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Sat, 6 Oct 2007 16:54:00 +0100

12/02/2007
Dear Adriel,
Sorry for the lapse again. I have not had time to sit down and have a chat with you for a while and its my fault. i have gotten so busy with school. Oh well, I want to let you know that have taken up swimming as well. I go to Ikeja hotel to swim once in two weeks - without my Mum finding out of course. You know how she hates swimming, after losing a cousin in the pool. Never mind that it was a local pool and there was no life guard.
Anyway, I should perfect my back stroke next week, then I will move on to the butterfly stroke, and the crawl. I had this fantasy of representing Nigeria for water ballet in the Olympics. Fantasy right?
JAVA is keeping my mind occupied, and I am not feeling any pain - during the day anyway. The fact that my mates are serving and I am trying to keep my mind occupied comes creeping on me just as I am about to sleep.

Then I heard another classmate of mine is getting married. At 22. Cool, right? Wrong! She is marrying a 33 year old man who just wants to settle down - or so the gossip vine says. She looks happy, and that is all that matters - for now.

I gotta go, Adriel. Will try to ensure that the gaps are not too wide.

Life must continue

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 16:37:00 +0100

09/01/2007
I started the classes. Quite nice. Our teacher is a beautiful lady that doesn't smile at all. I was able to get my books today. The tuition covers books and tutorials, I was told. And then it was a surprise that I got my books so early, because most of the other class members didnt have the term's books.

On school front (University of Lagos, Computer Science), I am definitely not going for National Youth Service Corps this February. Since it is compulsory that every graduate in Nigeria serve her motherland, I know I have to go eventually, so that will be in September. But I have to occupy myself somehow. JAVA classes are one way but I have to find another.

In the Beginning

noreply@blogger.com (Daydah) — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 14:48:00 +0100

Today is the first day of the year, and everybody is supposed to be extremely happy to have made it over, but I cannot honestly say that I am.
You see, in my country, things are on shaky ground. This year there will be general elections to elect a new Government, new governors, new local chairmen, new everything. And this is the first time that we are going to run a democratic election - everybody is scared that it will not come out right. Even little me.

Sorry, I am not a political activist or fanatic or anything. I am just an average citizen of Nigeria, that is praying for peace. I see pictures of what war has done to other African countries and I do not want it to come to that. Everyone is praying for peace.

Dear Adriel, I need to let you know that I think I am still comfortable with the things that are happening, even though they are not in my favour right now. For one, thanks to a "mistake" by the examination and results officer in my department in school, I am not going for NYSC this February. And considering that everyone turned up for my graduation ceremony, I don't think I want to show my face in the University of Lagos, and start explaining to everyone who asks me, "Why are you still here?"

God knows it was not my fault that I got a missing result - that I had rectified more than two years ago. I still wonder why the lecturer did a thing like that. Anyway, Mum has promised to pay my fees for taking a certification course in NIIT, here in Ikeja, so that should start next week. Three months.