Politics in everyday life

The Eight Hour Trip - Adebanji Koiki

2019-04-25T17:07:00.001-07:00

The Eight Hour Trip -Adebanji Koiki

No one informed John that flights from Abuja to Lagos are usually sold out on weekends. Although, one thing was certain, everything was unusual from inception. When he asked to buy flight ticket online to Abuja a day before, Yinka, his sister had said, ‘no need’.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘You can buy it at the airport and board right away’, abnormal but impressive he thought.

Truthfully, he bought the flight ticket at the airline counter and forty minutes later he was on a plane headed for Abuja. The flight was turbulence free, perhaps better than all the flights he had taken around America and around the world to land in Nigeria. It was smooth!

Reality hit him when he landed and proceeded outside of the airport, it was humid, and even so confused, with cab drivers shouting and gesturing at him to board their cabs.

‘I’m going to the Supreme Court. How much is that?’ He asked one that was closest to him.

‘Oga, that is the three arm zone. That place is far o’

‘Can you take me there?’ He asked again.

‘1500’ the Cabbie responded scanning John’s eyes

‘Let’s go!’ John responded

The Cabbie was surprised that John didn’t try to negotiate, he stood still looking at John until John motioned to him to lead the way to his cab.

John’s business in Abuja was short; meet with Fatima at the Supreme Court where she would just be finishing a conference on ‘Plea Bargain’ and have lunch with Francis, his hall mate back in college.

Everything went well until he decided to head back to Lagos. Then it hit him, every airline was sold out!

There was no going back to Lagos except an option of eight hour bus trip at night.

Francis had pleaded with him earlier to stay and enjoy the nightlife in Abuja but he had vehemently refused. Now, the thoughts came back to him, perhaps enjoying Abuja for the night wasn’t a bad idea.

He ran through his phone contacts and dialed Francis,

‘Hello Francis’

‘Hey’

‘I am taking you up on your offer…let’s club tonight. I’m stuck, no flights’

‘Nice! I’ll pick you up where I dropped you’ Francis offered.

Loud music, girls twerking and guys stylishly touching them on the dance hall, just like night clubs John had experienced in New York. Francis was used to it all, he picked on a couple of girls whose bodies pressed against his while they danced. He would hold them by the waist as if to help them from falling and the girl’s demeanor at the touch determined Francis’ fate. This continued throughout the night with a switch of night clubs, different people but the same rhythm.

At 6:00am, clubs started closing with tired, staggering bodies and Francis driving John to the bus station after an unsuccessful trial at getting a flight early. Road trip wouldn’t be bad during the day he thought, so he quickly made friends with the bus conductor.

‘This is an eight hour trip and I’ll be sitting at the back….you’d be doing me a great favour by sending the finest girl on this trip to come sit next to me’ John played with the bus conductor.

This cracked Francis up and the bus conductor sensed the seriousness and responded politely, ‘I gat you’

Instantaneously, a girl approached and the conductor gestured to her to sit at the back. She peered into the bus to scan and nodded looking at John, proceeded to sit beside John.

In fact, she was gorgeous!

It was beginning to look like a great road trip, John seemed to tell Francis with a wink as he bade farewell, turned to the ladyand the driver locked key in the ignition.

‘Hello’ John started

‘Hey’ the beauty responded taking her mouth off the Kunnu; milk, she was drinking.

John made to proceed with the conversation as the driver was driving out of the park but a bump threw the bus off balance which let out a subtle scream from the lady. The Kunnu she had in her hand had spilled and it was all over her dress.

Luckily, John had a clean handkerchief and he was quick to offer her. Grateful but embarrassed, she cleaned off with a beautiful smile on her face while occasionally looking at John.

‘I’m sorry your handkerchief is wet’ she played away the scenario

‘That’s fine, I have no use for it anyways…’ John quipped as he looked at her and proceeded,

‘You may want to use it more, you still have some on…’ the spill was all over her dress right by her breasts.

‘Well, since you can see it, then you should clean it’ she said with a straight face handing John the handkerchief.

Clean it! That was what she said. The cleaning was on her breast. John hesitated, looked at her and she nodded with a smile.

And there, the trip had barely begun and John was already cleaning milk off the breast of an amazing beauty. He did it so well with the damsel smiling the entire time and John wondering if this was really real.

‘I am Zainab’ comes the introduction.

Then the conversation; Zainab, a college student who couldn’tsecure a flight to visit her Aunt in Lagos and had to resort to road trip. John did the same but left out the part that he lived in the United States and was only visiting Nigeria. They discussed everything and anything. She got comfortable, leaned on him, he massaged her shoulders, locked fingers and rested her palms on John’s thighs.

The feeling was mutual and the connection real. It was magical and the conversation unending.

She got tired and rested her head on John’s thigh. John in turn, cradled her body like rocking a baby to sleep. She was soft, sweet and gorgeous.

When the bus stopped for lunch, she asked John what he wanted and she rushed to the food stall leaving her hand bag with John. Such trust, John thought.

‘I’ll be back right now, I need to use the rest room. Your food has been ordered’ Zainab addressed

‘I’ll be right here’ John assured

The food came and it was paid for…Zainab paid for both their meals.

John attempted to give her her money back but she refused at every attempt. It was a done deal.

Twenty minutes later, they were back on the bus and back together like no one else on the bus mattered. They felt like a couple, clinging on each other like they knew each other all their lives and the dialogue continued.

It was sad when they finally arrived in Lagos; Zainab was heading to Ikorodu and John, Bariga. They exchanged phone numbers and John walked her to a cab with a broken heart.

‘At least, we have each other’s contact information…we’ll meet again soon’ John tried to console himself.

‘Definitely! I’ll call you’ Zainab reassured with a shaky voice and both hugged tightly.

‘Bye’ they both said in unison.

John was indeed heartbroken.

Later that night, John’s phone lighted up with a ring displaying Zainab.

‘Hey John! See, I told you I’d call’

‘Yes, you did’ John responded elated.

Two days later, John boarded a flight to go back to the United States and before take off, he wrote a text message to Zainab,

‘I am taking a trip to the United States and this is my number while I am there, please be sure to contact me when you have the time’

He thought perhaps he should have informed her before now but at that moment it didn’t matter anymore, he was leaving. He was more scared of calling to tell her at a late hour; she’d understand eventually.

And two weeks later,

‘My runaway husband’ she shouted through the phone with a number listed as Unknown.

‘Zainab!’ John screamed. He wouldn’t mistake her voice.

And so the dialogue continued,

‘What have you been up to?’

‘How are you?’... And so it began again.

AFRICA AND HER LEADERS; SHAME NONEXISTENT - by Koiki Adebanji

2018-10-15T08:10:00.001-07:00

Africa, a continent of 54 countries and the second largest continent in the world. A continent blessed with natural resources than any other continent in the world. Ironically, also home to the poorest people in the world.
Africans are well read. An average Nigerian has a bachelor’s degree and a typical extended family has a PhD holder.
However, it is more of a title in books than common sense. A discussion with most proves this out rightly. More like the continent gives you western education and rid you of reason.
Africa is governed by 1% of her population; the 1% that care less for their subjects; the 1% that is richer than the entire continent with the continent’s wealth. The 1% that help develop the West with their loot stashed up in western banks. The 1% whose children and family members get education and live in the West because they have no hope in their continent and do not want it to get better.
Nigeria as case study, the legislative houses are more like comedy joints. A Nigerian senator makes more money than his/her contemporaries anywhere in the world. This is in a country where an average citizen can barely afford daily meals. Watch a senate session and see the level of unseriousness exhibited. What do you expect of a retirement home of failed governors and those who just want political immunities and those that just want money to lavish.
Unfortunately, the rest of the population laugh with them. Exactly what my professor calls, ‘persevering in error’. Then, anytime someone with reason criticizes this insanity, the rest of the population call for his/her head and you start to wonder,’ are we really sane?’
A society where a hungry man defends a man with Rolls Royce for stealing from him. A society where you can buy loyalists (educated ones) with iPhones while you get a Jet for yourself.
Africa as a continent has failed. You stash up money in the west while the west gives you aid for your dying people and economy. Stupidity in this case is a first nature for African leaders.
What is your pride as a leader when your subjects are hungry, tired, suffering and they die while you cruise in convoy of multi-million dollar cars? It is a disease to be shameless and the West does laugh at you.
Then the new trend, African leaders have ‘found favour’ with the Chinese government. It’s loan time!
Loan to develop our countries that will never develop. Loans with agreement to give up part of our continents should we default. And you’d think Africa and her leaders are smart.
Recolonization and slavery in our land by the hands of our ‘leaders’ loom. It has started with Zambia, Kenya is next and Nigeria is just at the corridor. We’ve been sold in a modern world and the future mortgaged.
Brace yourselves, we are also the cause, we kept quiet, we accepted defeat and we were bought over….the price for the humans that live amongst us.

-KOIKI (September 19, 2018)

Object of Interest by Adebanji Koiki

2016-07-19T09:35:00.000-07:00

It was the uniform that drew me
The coordination my heartthrob
And when I became one, I became proud
But that instance I did not know

The same uniform that makes secured
The same dreaded by others
In it my body envelop
While death lurk in the corner for me

My hand the instrument of death hold
The weapon of early grave to parents, children
But not by my hands their lives took
Only the same uniform they wore that slain

In the eyes of the remnants see me a killer
I did not ask to fight
I just wanted to wear a uniform and be proud

THE FACES I KNEW by Adebanji Koiki

2015-08-23T15:09:00.004-07:00

The faces that looked upon me
The voices that sang lullaby
The hands that tickled me
They're all gone with the wind

Silently I listened and watched
First came the news, then the holes
Silently I listened and watched
News of babies, then they grow

These faces are all new
They look upon me now, waiting
Tomorrow, they shall speak thesame of me
Then I shall be beneath the earth

With the faces I knew.

THE MORNING AFTER – Adebanji Koiki

2015-02-15T19:23:00.002-08:00

How she walked those heels were magical

Each step commanded decorum

Mouth aghast, wives clung to their husbands in fear

A beauty without company

A damsel

She could pass for a fine painting by experts

A body only fit for goddess

The reason bachelors work to impress

Only in luck did I get a chance to converse with her

Pity I suppose enveloped her to listen

Yet she accompanied my sojourn

Have I found favor or in a trance, perhaps she was tipsy?

Bright and early my soul surges and beside me lay the damsel

I had conquered the world last night

An achievement worthy of note to friends

She slept still as I beheld her face

Alas, she was not that damsel anymore

With the makeup had the beauty gone

The freshness was no more but acne

She was painted

I had been deceived

I had slept with a figment of beauty

I had slept with makeup

A story not fit for mention.

MADNESS by Adebanji Koiki

2015-02-06T06:32:00.000-08:00

My smile does not translate happiness
Neither my job satisfaction
My existence spiritual
But living a dictation of the society

Three quarter of my being spent in classroom
learning the creation of men
Yet, no end to this triviality
which lies in papers after each completion

I bag all these degrees only to earn a title
The burden I was born to live
I am still the same man
only with knowledge of how the world works.

Tomorrow I start another journey in papers.
When will this madness stop?

STOLEN by Adebanji Koiki

2015-01-31T11:46:00.002-08:00

You confirmed the existence of God when you met him

He was sugar in its entirety

And you tried to savor the taste

He was perfect and you knew it

Then that moment in June

After you made the maths

Late hours at work multiplied by a female secretary

You concluded, adultery

Nagging took the fore

Sugar not so sugar anymore

The fear of wife took comfort of home

Where he went wrong he couldn't decipher

In the hands of beer find him succor

Another woman just found sugar

She nurtures him and prays to stay

Maybe so, as he finds comfort

Then you wail,

‘They have stolen from me!’

Possession just passed but do not say, Stolen.

UNREQUITED

2013-12-21T20:28:00.000-08:00

I looked calm but my heart wrestled against itself in my chest

She couldn't see but my words gave me away, I was incoherent

I would pay to have this company, but out of her volition stand her next to me

My dream unfolding before my eyes

I had overlooked humiliation to get her number to call

Better to spit my heart out than lament all night

Disappointment met my calls and my text unrequited

Perhaps, wrong timing I said to myself a week ago

This instance, stand I next to the damsel

The reason for my sleeplessness

She stands a goddess, character unblemished and beauty I had worshiped

Alas, she smiled and simply implied NO

Tonight for reminiscences

But no more sleeplessness for the same cause.

BLACK BEAUTY by Adebanji Koiki

2013-07-19T21:33:00.000-07:00

Never imagined us together
But now my hand is wrapped around you all day
At night, you lay beside me
Alas, we are inalienable

Your black, all fine and shinny
Indeed, black is beautiful
In you I have learnt to appreciate creation
With every part of you significant to make a perfect whole

Your Custodian says not to cuddle
But a piece as new, I have fallen in love
Adherence to instruction is however paramount
So I hold tenaciously and keep watch

In my memory your thoughts shall be
'Cause your Custodian shall soon take you away
I will remember you, 767051
The first weapon I fired in my life

My M-4

Africa, what is your worth?

2012-11-14T14:59:00.000-08:00

Africa, what is your worth?

I live in a world where countries boast of what they have in population, landmass, weapons, wealth, natural resources, standard of living condition, all in a bit to stay distinct in a competitive world.

I hail from a continent where not so much matters but selfishness, a people so fine but ugly in the face of poverty when that is all they see, a land my father says flows with milk and honey only that we never get a taste of it. A continent endowed with the richest resources but the same reason our untimely death.

I hail from Africa!

My Africa is a place where children are born into poverty, live life on poor diet and die poor in the same land where some others eat and waste good food.

My Africa is where those who want to attend schools are deprived of good schools where other children are flown abroad to the best and most expensive schools.

My Africa is the land where our voted representatives become the same enemies we voted them against. Our backs are at the mercy of their horsewhips placed in the hands of our brothers to get us off the road, so they could thread on it. Then they make our source of wealth their personal incomes, squander our funds and lay crumbs on the ground for us to fight till death.

Africa has lost more lives than all other continents, yet these unreasonable few claim they lead a people; the same people whose blood flow on the streets, the same children who die of starvation, the same people with no Medicare, the same people who are 100 years behind civilization.

Africa, I have found your worth lies in diamond, silver, oil, gold, and everything worth money. It has never been human lives; it has never been an assured future.

The next time you’re asked if you once led the African community, you need be ashamed of yourselves considering the blood you have spilled and allowed spilled when all you cared about was money.

- Adebanji Koiki

Men with no vision

2012-03-14T22:01:00.000-07:00

Africa, my Africa! So we read in school but now Africans seem to be saying, Africa, their Africa.
No one wants to lay claim to Africa anymore. No one wants to be associated with poverty,corruption,avarice,war,abduction, and everything bad.
Africa is gradually losing her potentials, human and capital, to the world beyond and we pretend as if all is well. My African brothers have taken to work menial jobs in the western world even when they have all it takes to effect great change in the business,legal,medical and technology world.They now think themselves inferior to their counterparts while they embark on a life of slavery.
Our so-called leaders have taken to broad-day-robbery and we are made to hail them as we suffer in silence. We watch as they squander our wealth and save up treasures in the western world aiding their development while African children die of malnutrition and others kill one another over the remnant left.
Someone once told me our problems could be our 'black skin'. I almost picked a fight, but analyses of African countries that have never known peace since I was born left me defenseless. Could our problem then be our 'black skin'?
NO! Our problem is the few black skinned that govern Africa. The few with myopic vision, the few who got power through military coup d'etat, the few who rigged election, the brainless few.
Africa, you are my Africa but I am getting weary of defending you everywhere.
I weep everyday for you when I see lives been wasted, children dying, men and women hungry. This is not the Africa my fathers left for us.
I will pray again tonight for you and may God send your rightful leader.

Happy Hour by Adebanji Koiki

2012-02-18T21:17:00.001-08:00

She leaned on him as he staggered
Bare footed she trod the neatly tarred road while her hands wore the shoe
With tie lying loosely on his neck he held his jacket with one hand
The other, her waist and then they fell, yet up again.

As they walked, they smiled and occasionally laughed
Defying death they took to the middle of a four road high way
Motorists considered them crazy
They saw themselves immortal and invisible

She looked at him the umpteenth time with so much passion
And in the heat of it their lips joined
‘Look, there is a hotel!' She screamed.
It was not unusual, it was downtown

Both, the cynosure of eyes in the city
Ten hours ago he was in the Supreme Court arguing the biggest suit in the country
Six hours ago, she audited the federal government account
But at this moment, ethics has no meaning

His credit card and the receptionist voice sealed the deal
‘Room 454 it is. Do have a nice night sir/ma'
The result of their meeting at the bar two hours earlier
Alas, their clothes fell off

Sobriety would arrive in the morning
At dawn, they would realize they had slept in a hotel
And make acquaintances of each other.
Then also would the bar refill its barrels for launch next Friday

The reason it is called happy hour.

Word by Adebanji Koiki

2012-02-18T21:13:00.000-08:00

It feels good when I use my hands
I marvel at my own deed
How I caress it to create wonders
And the pleasure my soul derives, immeasurable.

But when I thought best of my hands, I found my lips
It grabs and shapes it in the simplest and sweetest way.
With it I have no bound
‘Cause for this purpose it was fashioned to fit.

Though I use you
I have in the most respected and reasonable way
Elude me not when I need you
For this reason I am a writer.

This is who I am.

Review of my novel 'The Blind Heart' done by Imani Bey

2011-12-14T22:05:00.000-08:00

Her countenance was like an angel’s, so radiant. With a fixated gaze, I beheld her

countenance for eternity. Her appearance was

comely, a beauty to behold, and even in the

company she was in, she shone like a million

diamonds in darkness. Her smile was the blessing

of Venus. She was perhaps the most beautiful thing

in skirts I ever saw.

The Blind Heart is Adebanji Koiki’s autobiographical narrative of his youth’s infatuation at a glance. As a young man, Adebanji’s life, with his family, then amongst his friends and in his university, lost its idyllic, hardy pleasure when his heart was stolen by a gaze at a beautiful young lady. Koiki leads you through the story of his puerile-hearted love, through feelings of discouragement, seeming victories, and the endless, whimsical complications of his weak-willed, irresolute lover, with the story ending, as most real life stories do, in disappointment and defeat. I recommend this story to anyone willing to take a sympathetic read at a real story of a real man and his struggles with the thing that we carelessly call love.

I guess in life, we don’t always get everything we

want . . . .

Imani Bey is a prolific writer, she also manages http://novel-news-earthworld.blogspot.com

Crazy Africans

2011-12-14T20:35:00.000-08:00

Crazy is not a word a blogger would use on his blog just few seconds after signing up. Believe me, it is the best to describe majority of our African leaders.

I have carried my black skin proudly, sang songs in the ears of those who cared to listen that I'm Nigerian and equally African, I have boasted of all we have but my leaders. Leaders who have embarrassed, embezzled, and transformed Africa to a shame for those of us who pride ourselves as her populace.

The world only see poverty and a people without vision and care for their citizenry when they hear Africa. This is not my Africa! This is not the Africa I grew in! The land of plenty that the white man tried to explore, the people that fought to die for their neighbours than to see them being carried away as slaves. The land where everyone greeted the other with encouraging words. A land of mutual respect!

Unfortunately, Nigeria got rich so also other African countries discovered treasures (natural resources) in their lands-the reason we suffer.

Little wonder then, when the world over say Africans are crazy. Their logic is very simple. We discovered wealth and our people became poor. The same resources meant to give us joy has led to turmoil.

We are indeed crazy!

Yes we are but not everyone of us,I say most of our leaders are.

Our leaders especially Nigerians are so greedy, so they embezzle all they can. Small brain! really really small!

Men who claimed to be educated but failed to see beyond the nose. Men with the greatest opportunity in life to better the lives of people but choose to steal. Men without vision who only love the idea of leadership.

Men who are quick at receiving aids without shame when we have more than enough, yet funds for their personal accounts. Men who build the biggest houses, buy the most expensive cars with government money and drive them on bad roads.

Avarice is what it is called! Brainlessness is what I call it.

Crazy African leaders, the world don't respect you when you stock up money in their banks. They think you're a fool!