Salt, Lime and Stranger things: WHO IS NORMAL?

Salt, Lime and Stranger things: WHO IS NORMAL?: Foreword: After spending most of the day conversing with the personified NEPA; striking deals and talking to myself. I considered the mad...

Entry 14

RESOLUTIONS Two weeks and counting, I am alive!! I had to do a little physiotherapy with a specialist and was getting quite attached to my walking stick when the player-hater-but-good doctor deemed me whole again. He said to ditch the stick and learn to walk with both feet [sigh]. Buh, there I was thinking I’d be the next Don Jazzy with my Mo’hits squad consisting of Nneka, Nneka, Nneka and Nneka! (who needs dbanj?) I refuse to believe that 4 weeks of my life just passed by like that, I refuse to believe that I was in a coma for all of that time. It’s their word against mine I choose to believe my side of the story. Bloody liars!! I was in an accident, I know. Out of 14 passengers (15 if I add the driver of the bus) only 4 of us survived! Myself, the driver, a child and her mother. The person that would have been the 5th bleed to death while the ambulance was stuck in traffic on its way to the hospital. To think that since the so called police were not that far off from the scene of the accident they would have found it a duty call to do something productive. Buh, did they send? They were too preoccupied with their 'egunje' collection After my 1st week in comatose state with no physical improvement, mother shipped me off to the university teaching hospital at Ibadan. She must have gone through hell. Poor woman. She didn’t ask me where I was going to, didn’t ask what happened to the exams I was supposed to be writing or why it was Nneka that came to see her after I failed to keep up with the deal we made. Seeing her tear reddened eyes and swollen face when I woke up was enough to make me pause. I have decided to change my way of life and live each day as though tomorrow is judgment day. I was invited for a NAG fellowship (I think is means New Age for G*d or something like it) next week. The Christian sister and brother that “ministered” to me were quite friendly and acted as though they were the personal guardians to the gate of heaven. My resolution for this second chance I’ve have been given to live is “NO REGRETS” maybe a little doze of communion and ‘alleluia’ praises would help me in my bid for a better self. - TABBY

13. When Truth Fails

“Master, my mission is complete. Why do these bonds still hold me captive? Why are you here? Your presence is not needed. You should not be here, it is obvious.” 

“Silence! Insolent fool!! You dare question my might?” 

“No master! Master forgive me, forgiveness master, forgive.” 

“Now go. Return to your charge and see to it that no harm shadows its path.” 

“Oh Master, you do me great justice. Thank you master, I shall return. Yes master, yes.”                                                                                                      - Monitoring spirits                                                                                                   O.Okoh

Initially, the scene was devoid of color, gradually patches of light appear. Splashes of brilliant red dotting a white background which double as a cocoon of sorts. Cries of torment and grief that occasionally pierced through the barrier caused her ears to ring. she noticed the presence of others. they seemed to be moving although not walking. Floating?
Was she dead??
"Where am I?"She attempted to ask though her lips did not quite move.
 She took in her surroundings with the sense of one who embraces the boundary of life and death. Scattered about were disoriented souls not sure of where they belong or if they belonged.
What was their fate? Would they unite with the living or with the dead? Did they get salvation or were they cursed to spend eternity in torment?
Heart wrenching screams, deep throated moans, fear, separation.. Death?
A boat manifests a distance away from her. It is manned by a hooded being with skeletons for hands. It stretches out a bony palm and waits. What does it want? A fee? Gold, Silver, precious memories or items of which are only of value to the individual.
The price is high,  no change is given.
 The boat disappears, more crying.
 Loss.
 Pitch darkness, silence.
A soft glow erupts in a corner. One after the other, the shadows take living forms; a couple of dogs playing poker while a cat refills their drinks.
Darkness again followed by the glow. A repeat of the previous sequence;
this time, humans; two men holding glasses with mouths moving, they appear to be singing, a closer look reveals men identical to Fela and Elvis Presley.
She nods, somehow, this makes sense.
Darkness again.
She loses sense of time. Nothing happens. No glow, no shadows, no apparitions.
She waits.
There is a thunderclap followed by a flash of lightning.
A vicious looking mouse pounces on an unsuspecting  cat and devours it, it looks through her with blood reddened eyes waiting, watching.
Pitch darkness, sobs.
Suddenly, the area becomes cast in a angry burst of blazing amber!
She tries to shield her eyes from the glare but there is no need for this. Somehow, she is immune.
Her vision is unaffected, the heat causes no pain.
A procession of mourners phase through her.  She is drawn to a coffin being lowered into a grave. The sound of a beating heart echos loudly in her head, worms devour the coffin and swallow themselves afterwards.
A initially howling beast morphs into a man and begins to chant the words "it is inevitable and only a matter of time, time to live and time to die".
 Two veiled women in black are walking towards the edge of a cliff both of them in tears. There is a narrow pass, one stands in front while the one behind holds out both palms. Her intention becomes  obvious  after a few more seconds; she means to cause harm.
There is a gust of wind. The veils covering their faces are lifted up briefly revealing their identities. She gasps in recognition, wants to call out but it is too late.
 She shakes her head willing Nneka to be rational.
As Tabby watches her mother plunge to her death, she hears a loud scream, thorn out from the depth of her being
 “Nooooooooooooooooooo!”
She woke up with a start, blinking rapidly she tried to adjust her eyes to the sudden infusion of brightness and take in her surroundings.
She tried to talk but something was restricting her. Before passing out again, she managed to whisper to no one in particular "she seeks my destruction."

  - TABBY

Entry 8

ONE OF THOSE DAYS Not liking the way mother was sounding over the phone the night before, I decided to go home for the weekend. My suspicions were right, she was a mess! Physically and emotionally. It turned out that Dr. Dash had reverted to form and ‘dashed’ out of mother’s life (just when I had begun to like the guy!) she was wounded, sad and heartbroken I doubt she’d ever recover from this one. We spent the whole day eating cake and ice-cream; too bad I couldn’t offer her ‘pium-pium’ (a tasty meal made from periwinkles ‘still’ in their shells simmered in sauce. a not so popular delicacy in Rivers state) the sucking might have done her some good. Out of the blue, she jumped up from her seat and told me to pack a suite case; we were ‘going on a trip!’. Traveling with mother is a once in a ‘tinted’ blue moon occurrence so, without any query, I ran into my room and began to pack. It was after she gave me my flight ticket at the airport that I found out our destination was Abuja. Cool (maybe I’d run into Engineer Thomas) we didn’t get the same seat but when I started to talk to the ‘Christian’ looking brother beside me to see if he could switch seats with me and mother a quick glance in her direction said she was going to be alright. Standing out on the aisle waiting for her to slide to her seat was a gentleman that bore a slight resemblance to my late dad. I checked his fingers and nodded in approval; there was no ring on it and no slight coloration to prove he had recently taken off his wedding band. The dude was either unmarried or pretending not to be (either way, he was available). I told the Christian Brother not to worry and slid into my seat. Mother knew I loved window seats, be it bus, lorry, keke, train or trailer. Something about the changing scenery frightened and appealed to me. By the time we arrived, mother was all waves and smiles. She said the guy she sat with was a big-time-lawyer in some big shot company and would be joining us shortly at our hotel (I guess she has a thing for ‘professional’ guys bye-bye Dr. Dash, welcome Barrister Dash) Wow! Abuja looks so pretty, I could take a picture and tell Nneka I went abroad and she’d believe although I doubt I’d ever do anything like that, lying to Nneka does not seem like a good idea. Mother came out of her room looking dressed to kill; wearing snickers, a tank top and 3 quarter shorts, she looked super hot [did she tell barrister Dash she was my ma?] we ate lunch at the hotel restaurant; it wasn’t as nice as I expected it to be. When barrister Dash arrived, he was taken aback by her beauty (like I knew he would. score one for the single ladies!!). Mother said she wanted to go to the amusement park and I was like “oh h*ll no! There’s no way am going to a kiddy park” but mother whined and begged so, in less time than it takes to say “ACID RAIN? WHERE IS OUR PRESIDENT?!!” I found myself strapped in a seat and spinning in all directions but the right one. After I screamed like a banshee for what seemed like an eternity, I was let loose. trying but failing to walk without thinking the world was spinning I sat on a fancy caterpillar until got my orientation back, the next thing was that I became highly ‘gingered’ we went on almost all the rides Wonderland had to offer. The bumper cars were the shortest and the most expensive [trust some greedy Nigerians to take advantage of ignorant citizens], I cried when we got on the pirate ship and little sprinkles of water dotted my face at random. The ship or boat or whatever the contraption was-was so high! Deep down somewhere in my head, I was certain ‘ships’ were meant for the oceans or sea so, seated in the thing sailing high above the oh-so-reassuring earth with nothing but strings and wires suspending ‘IT’ in midair should be bad enough to make a grown lady cry and as for the one ride where we had to paddle while suspended some billion feet from the air? I reserve my comment. My fear was transformed to excitement and pure glee! At the end of the day, mother had to bind my hands and foot in order to get me out of the park. I felt like an 8 year old who just found out that it wasn’t cool to eat the teachers chalk, I sulked all the way home. Later in the night, Barrister Dash took us to some night club slash joint I had ‘nnkwobi’ and ‘ishe-ewu’ the first was quite nice but the whole goat eye bursting with a ‘pop’ in my mouth is something I wouldn’t dare to try again. Would you believe it? The same chicks [okay well, not the same] lining the streets of Lagos ‘after dark’ could still be seen strutting their stuff on the streets at the FEDERAL CAPITAL TERRITORY? Hello?!! Something pinched me to take a close look at them. I didn’t know I was holding my breath until I let it out slowly when I was certain my beloved Nneka wasn’t one of the girls. The happy ending is that for the duration of time, mother is happy and if mother is happy? Then I am happy. - Tabby

Entry 12

PANDORA’S BOX I threw my bag angrily on my desk and stormed into the kitchen, I want to yell at somebody, arrgh! I wrote my final paper today and truthfully? I am honest to G*d pissed!! Angry, mad, stark raving bonkers!! I know I spent a better part of the semester enjoying my ’15 minutes of fame’ in the spotlight but please! That lecturer is a witch! ‘Azen’, marine spirit, ‘Ogbanje’, ‘Abiku’, Mammy water even!! It’s all her fault. Would you believe it? I have gone for three days straight with my phone on flight mode, I haven’t returned any calls from ‘mugu’s’, fans and admirer’s, I haven’t even let myself wander if Nneka sat at ‘his’ right or left hand. That should have been important because now I think of it; I have reason to believe that ‘herself’ and Nneka belong to the same mission! The woman comes in 30 minutes late for lectures, locks the door behind herself when innocent people like me who came to class 15 frigging minutes early walked out to buy a stick of gum, spends an hour 30 minutes plus an extra 45 minutes talking about her only and favorite topic of interest; why the price of garri would never drop! As if that’s not enough torture, she goes ahead to take attendance. Attendance!! She is a science teacher for Chris-sake, what has Nigeria’s economy go to do with her course?! It’s a little wonder I feel so rotten. Now, I have to go underground to see if she is ‘block-able’ just in case. Mother thinks am finishing exams next week buh, I lied! She needs my help and am not willing to voluntarily lend it. Some of her ‘conservative’ relatives that do not approve of her way of life are coming over for some sort of family meeting. She believes that if she dangles me in front of them, showing how well she’s done with me as a single mother they would lay off her case. Well, the only way I’d agree to curtsy and bow to a bunch of hypocrites is if she agrees to increase my pocket money by 40% [these are hard times, everyone is hustling!]… I fell asleep and forgot to lock the protector last night! Lucky me, the ‘real owners’ didn’t choose yesterday to do rounds and claim their property. Buh, at the moment, I am in an ‘almana’ tight bus headed to Bayelsa. Impulsive huh? For working so hard throughout the session, I decided to reward myself with a little R&R if you know what I mean. I have everything planned out, three nights and four days? It’s going to be a trip to die for! I’d see the sights; I’d feel the culture buh, make new ‘friends’ even! Then, I’d return home before Nneka goes to check on me at mother’s house. Buh, the way the driver is moving sha, na die o! Ibiela sent a text saying Akuna [a classmate from secondary school] gave birth to a boy the night before. The man responsible is a ‘bloody’ corper serving not too far from where she stays. Who could blame her? When students spend 7 years studying a 4 year course due to strike, missing heads of state, militant unrest, inadequate facilities and what have you, it’s a miracle that the students aren’t buying shares and investing in accommodation allocation’s, as for Akuna et al, blame it on faulty wiring of their biological clock I guess. Buh, its scary though Akuna, Zogie, Rachael and Ama are the Christian sisters of my time, as in the ones wey dey carry bible matter for head. If they are taking prayer sessions to another level with ‘alleluia’ sessions bringing forth children, what becomes of people like me, what of Nneka?!! The bus swerved, I looked up. Was it just me or did the bus driver just run over a police officer? The driver was simultaneously trying to avoid a port hole and the blockade they had built up. He should have seen him struggle to gain control of the bus but the idiotic being [more worried about his loss of 20 Naira bribe than his life] kept flagging him down. One instant, I had my phone in my hand reading Ibiela’s text message and pondering over the rate of teenage parturition, in the next, my hand was on my head [phone flung to G*d knows where] screaming like the child who saw tomorrow. Looking through the window, I spotted water below; a river? I watched in horror, the bus driver was fighting a losing battle; he collided with first an overzealous ‘okada’ rider driving on the wrong side then bounced off a broken down Honda forgotten in the middle of the road. I paused my screaming only long enough to shield my face from broken glass shooting at me from everywhere! Two deaths, am certain. In Nigeria? There is no way they’d survive. Still, the nightmare continued. An ‘ekene dili chukwu’ lorry was charging towards us in full force I doubted it had functioning brakes. There was a ‘Zulu’ chant playing in my head which sounded more like “you’re going to die- you’re going to die”. In a quick move, the driver pulled the steering to the right and burst through the railing of the bridge. The bus carrying me and 13 other passengers was airborne!! An image of me and Max walking down the aisle fluttered, perched and flew from my mind The bus is quiet, time has stopped. Silence. Blood tickles down my face and drops on my once white top. Mine? I try to move but blinding pain halts my attempt. My chest feels heavy, can’t breathe. I am tired. I’d close my eyes for a while - TABBY

Entry 39

UNAPPRECIATED

Arrgh!! Everywhere is wet, slimy and sticky. My room smells like a wet dog covered in a wet blanket lying on a wet mattress and chewing on a stolen wet leather slipper. Buh! Would someone please turn off the rain switch and let the freaking sun come out to play?! It’s at times like this that I blame mother for not getting hitched to some white man and birthing me in a country with four season’s (South Africa, Greenland and Iceland not included). The month of October is supposed to be the start of autumn for crying out loud. All those books she got me with stories of leaves turning brown and shedding their summer clothes should count for something buh. In October, there should be fewer rainy days, things drying up and all that but instead what do I get?

Wet!

Truth be told, if I were honest with myself (given that I am not really a rain and water person), I’d admit that most of my anger with the weather is coming from the fact that Lanre turned out to be a law man worse, not just a regular law man but a yellow fever to boost!
Since when do they recruit nice looking, well spoken and good mannered people into the force? The fairytale way he appeared out of nowhere and assisted me in crossing the road should have been the clue I needed to know that something was up. That he offered to help me carry some of my groceries and talked me into having snacks and a drink is something that would have set off alarm bells if only the darkened clouds overhead was not making me quite an agreeable person in a bid to be out of the way should the rain decide to reign. The fairytale would have been bliss if I did not decide to renounce the expected “African time”, borrow a car and go early for our second “date” serves me right though because my beloved Lanre was just getting off duty decked in his orange shirt and black trousers.
The thought of Nneka pointing her French tipped fingers and laughing at me for dating a “yellow fever” was enough to scare me into pushing Dr. Dash’s car into reverse and backing out of the street before he could spot me. As luck would have it, just when I had gotten to the end of the one way and was about switching to the right side of the road, a yellow fever ran out of G*d knows where and jumped into the car before I had time to hit the locks. He brought along his assistant whom I called Goldilocks under my breath and they had a swell time embarrassing me, making me beg and plead.

An hour, a phone call and five thousand naira later, I was free of them swearing to have my revenge on all members of the Nigerian law enforcement agencies et al (maybe I’d marry a politician and make him pass out a bill or something, hmm).

Walking back to my place in school after I figured nothing could go wrong anymore, the fates waited until I was crossing the road before sending a nice young gentleman in a purple Rav4 jeep to zoom past dousing me with nice, warm and dirty water from the puddle in a pothole. Great, just great! Lucky my lips were closed, set in a straight line from the frown that manifested on my face since I returned Dash’s car after the ‘yellow fever’ incidence (I wonder what they are called in real life, “Fanta police”?) or else the thought of having a little taste of water mixed with the run-off urine passed out by men who hear this call from the great spirit of the outdoors and answer by pissing by the roadside, saliva and catarrh from individuals who aren’t emotionally balanced until they have a little spitting and nose blowing session and all things gross would have sent me straight to paranoia land or a hospital.

Eww! Either a flying snake spat on me or birds have learned a new trick. Buh, there’s another one! Well what do you know! The rain is here again, I have neither a raincoat nor an umbrella. Good thing am heading home already because at this moment, I don’t really care if my day gets any worse. C’mon madam rainfall, hit me with all you’ve got!!

- Tabby

Entry 44

UNFAZED

The first thought that entered my head was ‘Nneka has done it!’ I screamed at the highest note my voice could hit, hopped from one foot to the other and wrung my fingers like freshly laundered sheets before it occurred to me to stop panicking and think. The problem was; being faced with a burning frying pan, a smoke covered kitchen and imagining the gas cooker going “Boom!” at any instant thinking became a novel idea. Somewhere in my head, I pictured Johnny Bravo (a cartoon character) in a fireman’s outfit saying ‘stop, drop and roll’ it gave me comfort for a while till I tried to figure out how the burning pan was going to stop, drop and roll. I out of the kitchen through the back door, packed sand into a rubber pail and brought it inside but throwing sand at the gas didn’t seem like a good plan. I considered making a solution with detergent and pouring it on the frying pan but with the gas still burning brightly, I didn’t think that too would have been a good idea. That loud voice in my head that tells me to do bad things (not the tiny one that gives advice which I often do not take) was screaming panic Tabby! Panic!! The kitchen is on fire, we are all going to die (“we” being the loud voice, the quiet voice and myself). The voice seemed quite certain of the outcome from the day’s event and gave a grim survival ratio. I was close to believing it before it occurred to me to use the oven mittens which were hanging happily from the hook above my head to pick up the burning frying pan, drop it outside and run back to turn off the gas. Thankfully the plan worked! After I short of threw the frying pan (fire and all) out the back door, ran to turn off the gas (which by the special grace of G*d had not exploded) and began opening windows to let in more air. Next, I took in deep breaths in an attempt to calm my racing pulse and staggered to the guest room.
I unplugged the standing fan from the wall socket, rolled the cord around the body and brought it to the kitchen turning it to face it the area with the most of the smoke before plugging it to another socket in order to hasten the removal of the choking smell and smoke that had ensued.
Just after the kitchen was back to ‘near’ normal, the blasted phone rang. Everything happened so fast that I almost forgot how it began in the first place. Buh, it serves me right.
Mother had said I should go visiting with her, Annabel and Dr. Dash but I refused making up a lousy excuse that she brought.
A while later, tired of painting my face and haunting the house, I realized I was hungry and decided I’d eat fried plantain and wash it down with the bottle of wine I had been hoarding from the Christmas party mother hosted a few days earlier.
The can of vegetable oil was empty.
Too lazy to refill it from the pantry, I decided to bleach palm oil and use instead. I had cut the plantain and poured oil into the pan when I heard my phone ringing in the other room. It was a text message from an unknown number.
The message ended with a wink. Curious, I sat down and replied. After a few exchanges I discovered the ‘texter’ was Dotun the younger brother of one Dr. Eyikimi’s colleagues.
He was being sweet and “Tabby liked very much”. I curled up in the sofa and continued 'texting' forgetting all about the oil I was bleaching in the kitchen.
It was not until Dotun asked if he could come take me out to lunch that I remembered what I left on the burner. Without responding, I threw the phone down and ran to the kitchen. The rest they say is history.
The number was unknown; I picked up the phone and connected the call warily. It was Dotun. He wondered why I didn’t respond to his text. I let out a sign of relief, smiled and shook my head telling him that even if I gave him forty chances to guess, he will not be able to get the reason why. Still shaken from my ordeal, I spoke a little gibberish and made my way to the back to see how much damage had been done to the frying pan (that was one of mother’s favorite frying pans). It was burnt beyond repair I shook my head in disbelief. He made the offer to take me to lunch again, I said sure. Why not? I was not in the mood to risk cooking another frying pan, the bottle of wine might as well stay for another week and I was certain that turning mothers kitchen to ‘the scene of the crime’ was not going to score me any points with either herself or Dr. Dash. I asked him to give me sometime (so I could make an attempt to clean up the mess) and ran to my room to get dressed. When mother and Dr. Eyikimi returned to the house, I was going to be doing a lot of talking. So, it is for the best I went out for lunch and forgot about my worries for as long as I could

- Tabby