Monday Rush

Published on October 17th, 2011 | by thetoolsman

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#TNC2 + Life

What is it?

Incase you missed the first one, The Naked Convos Series is an interactive event designed to create safe spaces where young men and women can engage in open and honest conversations particularly about love, sex and relationships with an infusion of music, spoken words, amazing giveaways and other activities.

The Naked Convos #2 will hold on Sunday 30th of October from 4pm. It will be curated by Thetoolsman and will feature a very diverse panel of conversation starters as well as exciting performances and fun adult games.

The Panel

Our panelists of not-so-experts for #TNC2 are a very interesting bunch. For now, we’ll only tell you who they are but you’ll have to be at the event to share their take on the subject.

• Noble Igwe
• Shade Ladipo
• Dare Job
• Gbohunmi Abiodun

The Dresscode

TNC is a laidback, casual event but we encourage our guests to make the most of the theme. To further push things this time, we’ll be giving out gifts to the most ‘creative’ outfits for male and female.

How do I get an invite?

The event is strictly by invitation but this time we want to give more people the opportunity to attend. If you’re going to be in Lagos on the event day and you’re interested in attending, please send us an email to tnc@thenakedconvos.com stating your name, phone number and what you currently do.

For those who can’t attend, you’ll be able to follow the event on twitter via the #TNC2 hashtag with live blogging provided by @OlaToxic through @TheNakedConvos handle.

We’d like to give a huge shoutout to all our supporters: Green July Clothing, Ayaba, Barows 21, Brief Essentials, 360 Nobs, YNaija, 601 Realtime and others not mentioned here.

We look forward to seeing you there.

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I have titled today’s post Life. Don’t ask me why. I also do not have any particular question I’d like you to answer based on the piece. I’ve been reflecting a lot lately and it inspired this post. Share your thoughts in the comment box. Cheers.

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It was around 6:30am. Lateef broke out of his thoughts. He had been sitting in the same position, back resting against one of the unpainted walls of his near-empty room, since he returned home the night before. He had not slept for he simply couldn’t. The thoughts in his mind made sure of that.

One million naira.

Gone.

Just like that.

He sighed heavily as he took in his surrounding. A student mattress awkwardly positioned on the floor, some lose clothing items littered the cold cemented floor, and that was it. Every other thing he owned, he had either sold or given away in anticipation of what was to come. Lateef looked to his ceiling as thoughts of suicide floated across his mind. He would rather do it than give Chief’s men the pleasure. Only problem was he had no hook for a ceiling fan or money to buy a rope to use in hanging himself. How pathetic. He knew he couldn’t just sit around; he had to do something, he had to try at least. Lateef mustered up some strength, got up to his feet and dragged himself out of his room with no destination in mind.

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Chidinma checked her watch as she shut the gate to Henry’s house, 6:30am. She had enough time. As she began her now, regular journey to Pako bus stop, her mind teased at how sad her situation had gotten. She was now used to making the dreadful ‘walk of shame’ alone while Henry blissfully slept away in his air-conditioned room, reliving the pleasure and passion they both shared the night before.

Chidinma smiled and shook her head gently for she knew Henry’s payment, or rather, gift, which she had in her bag, fifty thousand Naira, was more than enough to help her suppress her wayward thoughts. All she had to worry about now was, getting back to school in Ibadan in good time and also that she doesn’t get spotted by any of her loud-mouthed family members.

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Hon. Owodobe adjusted the driver’s seat of his brand new Mercedes Benz C class. He started the engine, the first time he would do so by himself since he got the car four months ago and he marveled at the ingenuity of the technology. These white people sha, and they say they don’t have witchcraft, he thought to himself as he briefly inspected the complicated components that constituted the car’s dashboard. He caught sight of the digital clock and that brought him back to the present. He smiled that knowing smile as the thought of his destination danced across his mind. He was finally going to get the contract. 2.5 Billion Naira; all he had to do was show up. Pity Gbenga his long time faithful driver couldn’t make it this morning; he knew he would have found more ways to further brighten his already bright mood. Gbenga had called in early to say he was down with a nasty runny stomach. Hon. Owodobe made a mental note to call him once he was out of the secretariat.  The short trip from Onike to Alausa was one he wouldn’t mind driving through today. He figured going through St. Finbarrs road, past Pako, Bariga and then to the express was his best route since it was still early enough. As he attempted to back out of his compound, he found himself going forward. Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, this should actually be fun, he thought as he finally drove out.

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With on final ring of the bell, Sister Mary shouted:

“Olorun wa n pada bo, jawo ninu ese ki o si tewo gba Jesu kiristi loni”

(Our Lord is coming back. Desist from sin and accept Jesus Christ today)

She pulled up her overflowing sutana and checked the time as she began walking away. It was a little over 6:30. It was already getting bright and as much as she would have loved to take off her satin white church dress so she could blend in with the early morning crowd, the words of the Woli (prophet) echoed in her mind…

“Bo ba se lo si n lati pada wale o. ai je be adura re o ni gba”

(You have to return the same way you went, orelse your prayers won’t be answered)

At thirty-five, Sister Mary had gone through enough to know she had to obey every word of the prophet. This was her year, her heaven sent husband was not far away, she could feel it. If her early morning preaching for the past seven days was not enough penance for the truckload of sins she committed during her days in school, what else could God possibly want?

“Heysss Okada… Pako bus stop”

A bike was her fastest way back home and she needed to be fast, she wouldn’t want to have this ridiculous white garment on during her first encounter with the future love of her life.

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Nasty stormed out of his room and almost ran into Clinton, Pastor John’s last son as he marched the short distance that made up the lobby of his face-me-I-face-you apartment.

Stupid woman and her stupid daughter; they think I didn’t go to school. Money for science textbook, money for integrated textbook, money for this, money for that … In these hard times. NURTW go collect, LASTMA get their own, the ojo sef no carry last and fi-hi-ho too join, na me kill Jesus ni?

Nasty finally made his way to his faragon danfo bus and briefly looked around for Isla his conductor. The stupid boy, he has probably gone to smoke weed overnight. I wont let him make my life more miserable than it already is this morning. With that, Nasty hopped into his bus and started the engine. The clock on his dashboard read 6:35am. If he drives fast enough, he would make it to Pako bus stop in time to pick up the early Unilag students.

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“It happened too fast”. The young man dressed in a grey suit started to say. He failed in his attempt to fight back tears as he addressed the huge crowd that had gathered amidst the chaotic scene at Pako bus stop.

“I don’t know if the man was trying to cross the road or he was simply not mindful of where he was because he seemed to just stroll right into the road. The man in the benz must have seen him late, I saw him struggling with his steering as if urging the car to stop but instead, he accelerated faster.”

“He… he … he cleared the stray man into the path of the danfo that had turned into the junction with a great amount of speed. I think he must have been running from the policemen on that other street. The danfo driver attempted to swerve but it only caused his bus to lose balance. It went over the divider, ran into the okada with the cele woman and the bike slid into the bus stop where it collided with the young lady that had been there waiting for a bus.”

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Tags: Announcement

About the Author

thetoolsman Unrepentant media addict.

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