I'm soo sorry, I went away for long
2 posts in November, sigh.
I'm so ashamed
I wish I could blame twitter but I'm still anti-twitter, its that or facebook, and I'm sticking to the more mordern, less perverted, Hi-5!
Been seeing a lot of movies lately, I'm not really a t.v person and even less a movie person, but I'm liking the new experience, watching movies in my spare time is fun, havent quiet gotten the t.v part yet. So please feel free to tell me what you think the best shows on t.v are, got 2weeks of 'not-much' to do, and spending the holidays alone.
Why does everyone act like spending Christmas alone is such a huge deal!
I mean all the movies on t.v suck, practically everywhere is closed, especially if you live in the middle of no where like me!
Ok, it does get boring, but I still like it.
N no, I'm not a saddist, but 'the holidays' is about the only time in the year I get to be alone, in my head, just me, reflecting, chilling, and I like it.!
This year though I've got work to do!
I'm challenging myself to finish my novel, 'Something Blu', before the winter semester begins, i.e 2weeks.
I only just started and I'm not rushing to meet any deadline, I'm just pushing myself a little and seeing if I'll tip over
There's no person better to challenge you than yourself, I say!
Another smiley face!
Thats the plan, write, watch suggested t.v shpws, go see movies, eat, write, blah blah blah.
So, here's a lil bit from my novel, Something Blue, enjoy!!
BTW, starting up a new blog in 2010, for my writings, songs, poetry, short stories, etc, if you'd like to join me, e-mail, firstname.lastname@example.org
That said, enjoy!
She sat facing the charts in an otherwise bland and sterile looking room.
The nurse smiled at her, the way nurses do, overly pleasant, knowing the worst but faking care and reassurance.
“The doctor will be with you shortly” she smiled again
“Please take off your garments and put this on.”
Morenike really hadn’t intended on being rude by hissing, she just thought it bothersome that after she’d taken her time to actually look good, she had to get naked.
“Oh well, maybe not everything” the nurse forced a laugh.
Maybe it wasn’t forced, maybe Morenike was just irritated, maybe it was because Aunt Bunmi had called 'them', nurses, doctors, lawyers, all white people in fact, a bunch of slithering snakes.
“Ah, they will just kill you! Like that” Aunt Bunmi would snap her fingers.
“Me, I don’t trust them, oh.” She’d continue.
Morenike sighed, wondering why the woman thought it necessary to begin or end her sentences with, ah’s, oh’s, shebi and the thousands of other Yoruba sayings that had absolutely no meaning.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m in a hospital, figure it out!”
Did she imagine a pained expression or was this oyinbo woman trying to make her feel bad?
“I said, you can leave your shirt on, but please take off your underwear, both of them.”
The smile was gone. Aunty Bunmi was right.
She shut the door as Morenike began to take her clothes off.
She sat on the cold leathery bed, her bare bum on the thin paper lining.
“Good afternoon, Miss Morenike!” the doctor walked in, with the same smile.
Morenike hissed again, “It’s Mo-reh-ni-keh, not more-nike!”
“If you don’t know how to pronounce a name, don’t or ask.”
“I’m so sorry” she rushed, staring at the chart like the name would explain itself.
Now it was Morenike’s turn to fake a smile and say, "It’s okay, it’s a Nigerian name. What’s your name?”
“Roseanne. Dr Roseanne Belford.” She smiled, not plastic, but a genuine smile that hoped they could start over.
“So Moh-rey-ni-kay, I see you would like to have a physical done. When was you last physical?”
Morenike chuckled, she still didn't say it right, but she gave her points for trying.
“When I applied for a visa.”
Three years on Wednesday.
“And when was that?”
“Two years and some.”
“I’m just going to run you through some quick questions, before we begin, okay?”
Morenike chuckled again.
What if she said no?
Dr Belford went ahead to ask a survey-worth of questions, ending just as Morenike became irritable.
“Okay!” she smiled, shutting the green folder and pulling a blue one out.
“This is for whatever information I gather from your body” she said answering Morenike’s unspoken question.
“So Morenike, how do you like Canada so far?”
“I can’t complain.”
Dr Belford stopped as if taken aback by her response.
“I mean its okay.”
“But you like Nigeria more, don’t you?”
Morenike rolled her eyes. Attempting to make conversation while a woman massaged her breasts was making her uncomfortable.
“Yea, I like it more.”
“Okay Morenike, what I’d like you to do for me is slide down and place your head on the rest, there.”
“Exactly. Thank you.”
Morenike tried to think of random thoughts as the doctor opened and closed cabinets.
“Are you sexually active, Morenike?”
She pronounced it this time as More-nikeh, wedging the ‘reh’ to the ‘n’as if it was a vowel.
More that concerned her than her mispronounced name, was the question.
Now the term seemed stupid to her.
‘Sexually active’, like it was a usual verb like, walk, or sit.
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, hanging there as if fearing to reply.
It’d been raining that night Aunt Bunmi crept in her room, saying, “You want visa, yes?”
She’d been to happy, too eager, Morenike should have known.
She sat up as Aunt Bunmi held the lantern up to her face.
“Well, if you want to travel, eh, you have to play a little game for Aunty.”
Morenike was sixteen and didn't need to be pacified.
“Aunty Bunmi, what is it?”
“I’m doing this for you, because I love you oh!”
What she didn't include was that her father had trusted her with more than enough for her to school abroad but she’d spent it all.
She held the lantern higher and as the light spread further, Morenike saw him, lurking in the shadows.
Aunt Bunmi was smiling again, that selfish smile she had when she was extremely satisfied with herself.
Morenike had begged, screamed and clawed to no avail.
Lying on Dr Belford’s bed, she could hear his grunts and feel his clammy, sweaty body on her.
A month later, she was on a plane to Canada.
“Are you sexually active?”
“Yes, no! Maybe, no!”
Dr Belford frowned.
“Have you had sexual intercourse before?”
Morenike sighed, “Yes.”
Dr Belford spread her legs apart and frowned at, what her gym teacher had called ‘down there’ as her cheeks turned pink.
Morenike felt a slight sense of panic but mostly pain as Dr Belford slid something into her.
“Ops, sorry. Seems like there’s been no activity here for a while” she chuckled from down there.
No activity there for a while, was it a bus stop? Or did men sign their names on the wall?
It was becoming an unbearably embarrassing day.
“When was your last period?”
“I don’t remember.”
“When was your last sexual encounter?”
Another term, ‘sexual encounter’, like she bumped into it at the flea market.
“About a month ago, why?”
“Hmm.” Was all she said.
“Hmm?” Morenike repeated.
“Morenike, I’m going to ask you to do a pregnancy test for me, okay?”
Morenike found it funny, how she said, ‘for me’ like she was the one who had to take the test.
She’d taken one before. She knew the procedure.
They made her take them, whenever she reported missed periods
“Just to be sure” they’d say.
And every time she took one, she felt that dual emotion, the one where you know you’ve done nothing that could make you pregnant, but what if?
“We are done here!” she took off her gloves and smiled.
“All you have to do, is go to the bathroom, give it to the nurse at the desk and come back here. It takes five minutes, okay?” another smile
She reminded her of a toothpaste billboard in Lagos, just as you got off the third mainland bridge. Over-smiling for free toothpaste, Aunt Bunmi said.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hall, on your right”
Her heart violently trembled in its cage as she walked down the hall.
Had it really been a month ago, since she had to attach the sticky end of a towel to her underwear?
Had it really been a month since she’d seen him?
She’d filled up the little plastic container, the nurses hated it when she did.
'What ifs?' Like the little butterflies that land on her palm in summer, flew past her ears.
Morenike shrugged them off as she washed her hands.
She handed the nurse the container, “Dr Belford said I should give you.”
Morenike smiled, “not you in particular, she sad a nurse.”
The nurse wrinkled her nose, “This is way too much, we only need a little.”
“I know.” Morenike smiled back.
It was the longest five minutes of her life, in which she re-examined every detail of that night.
Bethany, the girl that lived across the hall had knocked on her door.
She’d been making palm oil stew. She wiped her hands on her apron as she stared through the peephole.
She remembered the first day she told Bethany her name, she’d replied with a puzzled expression, “Why are you named after a sports brand?”
She usually tolerated Beth’s company but tonight, all she wanted was to crawl up on her sofa and watch a Nigerian movie.
“Nike, I need to a favour. Can my friend sleep over at you place till my cousin’s wedding on Saturday?” she quickly said.
Why couldn’t Beth be a ‘can I borrow sugar?’ neighbour?
“Please, Nike. I’d like owe you forever and ever.”
“Oyinbo people sha” she said with a smile.
“Look at you half oyinbo!” Beth laughed.
Pronouncing it as if the ‘n’ wasn’t there.
“Sure, but only till Saturday”
“Oh, Nike, have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“I’m going to pick him up from the bus station in half an hour, thank you!”
“Him?” the blood drained from her face.
“Oh, and save me some of the red oil stew.” She blew her a kiss and scurried into her apartment.
Morenike sighed and plated her food.