Unveiling Nigeria's Personalities According To States

Yes. Its New Year's Day and I have time. Time for banters and all that comes with it.

I will be unveiling Nigeria’s states and the personalities associated with them. I will explore the people according to looks, characters and spirits associated with people from such states, ranging from their man to their women. So each time you meet someone from a particular state, you know what to expect.

But then, this is all bants. No state has completely good or bad people. The spirit of God does not discriminate along ethnic lines, and so, can touch anyone and disconnect him or her from heritages and bloodlines associated with his people in the flesh.

Without further ado, here we go:

Abia:

Hmm. God’s own state. The men are great lovers, nice, sociable, usually tall, with model-like looks(with the exception of the Ngwa people who are mostly four-footers or slightly above). The Ngwa people are mostly aggressive, and the stories of cannibalism traced to them in times past should really make one wary. 

Their women are average in looks and character, go with the flow, and what you put in is what you get in terms of relationships.

Adamawa

The men here, mostly Christians, are okay, and can fall in any category-no special attribute to them. Most are five footers and above, with women who have some measurable inclination to the green bottle and its contents, same as the men. You are nice to them, they reciprocate. You give them the opposite, what you see, you get.

Akwa ibom

Akwaaba!

The men..hmm. Very hopeless romantics. Can spend their entire salary on a woman if it comes to that...they mostly claim to be beta males but when push comes to shove they are jellies within. Their women are ravenously beautiful, with well proportioned bodies, but with a slight gravitation towards promiscuity because of their murderous looks. But when you get one that is into you, she is in it for the long haul unless you mess up. The intellectuals among them tend towards feminism and the chauvinistic angles. Overall, they are nice people.

Anambra

The heart of the Igbo race. Very enterprising men. Women are trophies to them and they prefer to adorn their women to showcase their wealth. An average Anambra business mogul can have over 600 million in his account and not have a car. But when you look towards the wife, your antennae will come up. Their men are usualy heavily built, up to six footers in some cases with a good muscular body to go with it. Their ladies, because of the wealth that stinks around these men, are usually loyal and a proper representation of the title of ‘oriaku’ (spender of wealth). Usually ,fair, pretty damsels dot the Anambra landscape.

Bauchi

This state west of the north of Nigeria boasts of a fine array of men. The hometown of the Executive secretary of TETFUND, Proffessor Elias Bogoro. They can be nice when they want to be. Average looks. Loyal women. But their true character is known when they come into wealth and status. Do not be deceived with a poor Bauchi man’s show of humility. Some of them can be quite arrogant.

Bayelsa

This Sani Abacha brainchild boasts of the darkest set of Nigerians alive. While Ben Murray Bruce seems to negate that statement, do not forget he is a mullato with western blood in him. Their men drink to a fault, and so do the women. Because of proximity to water and the influence of mermaid spirits, sex is carefree and commonplace, and we all know what that translates to.  Of course, the men and women are unbelievable swimmers. The men are not good looking but can be extreme hunks, with good height and build to complement. They can have smooth skin owing to abundance of sea food. Same goes for the women.

Benue

The food basket of the nation. As such, expect to see healthy looking men and women. There are few exceptions of extraordinary height like in the case of award winning crooner, Tuface Idibia, else, they are mostly average in height. Of course, when you are full, there will be plenty of time and energy for pastimes like sex, disproportionate drinking, gambling, and womanizing. Some Benue men can be highly irresponsible. Their women are just there, ready to roll if you are. Can be good home keepers, but expect some itchy tongue for alcohol too.

Borno

There is an unbalanced mix of Christianity and Islam in this state in the far north. Expect a huge dose of nepotism around the men, who would go to any length to favour their own. The Shuwa Arab girls are usually a sight for sore eyes, with long tapering hair and Arab-like beauty. But never let that fool you- she can kill you if you offend her-literally stab you in your sleep if it gets to that. The men can be tall and slender, with deep hearts too.

Cross River

Everything stated about Akwa ibom men and women are applicable here. Terribly beautiful ladies and weak-hearted men. Any ugly Calabar girl you see has no money. Touch her up and watch her take on that glow. It’s a trade mark.

Delta

This baby of the late Maryam Babangida is a fine mix of all of the characters you want to see. Most of the characters here are developed based on personal decision and principle. The men can be either extremely good looking, or shamefully unsightly. The women are also not that very good looking, save for some exceptional cases. One thing they have going for them is their fighting spirit and doggedness-which is arguably the reason they gave Nigeria a good dose of contribution in terms of sportsmen and women. Their women can be extremely hardworking, managing stress beautifully. The legendary midfielder Sunday Oliseh hails from there. Agression and some cultism holds sway among Delta youths, and their ladies can be very manipulative, with the slightest of things, and will have their way most of the time. The educated men among them are high flyers, like Pat Utomi, chairman of Lagos Business School.

Expect to get tales of brazen wickedness and incest from Asaba and more of the Igbo speaking parts of Delta, for reasons I cannot fathom. Probably the water body close by.

Ebonyi

Created in 1996, this state is the lastborn of the southeast. There is some form of inferiority complex that sorrounds the men from this state, and they want to exploit every opportunity to assert themselves. The men are usually voracious eaters and it shows in their physique-muscles all the way and a good height to go with it. Education and civilization has given their women a voice too, and i am yet to see a slender Ebonyi lady. Their ladies are usually traditional and conventional, stickler for rules of engagement in every occasion. Average looking ladies.

Edo

I love this state. A very good childhood friend of mine hails from this state and i can speak with some authority here. You do anyhow, you see anyhow. Average Edo nigga is fearless, bares his mind as it is, enterprising, can be loving when he loves you, and sacrificial. They go to any length for people they believe in. They can also be terribly generous. But, you do not want to hurt an Edo man. If he can, he will get his pound of flesh, but only as long as the anger lasts. If he cuts you off, that is it. You can beg but it won’t be the same anymore even if he lets go. They are usually aggressive and emotional when you touch their sore spots

Their women are mamacitas. I am yet to see an Edo lady you won’t look at twice. But then, their mouth is a leaking tap only the Holy Ghost can seal. With a tested and trusted PhD in insulting and insulting technology, you do not want to get in the line of fire of an Edo lady’s mouth-same as the men. The ladies are fearless, enterprising, risk takers, good home keepers when they want to be, and hopeless lovers when you treat them right. Expect some diabolism also, but contrary to public perception, it is done out of passion and not necessarily wickedness.

Ekiti

The contemporary of Ebonyi state in the southwest, if you are not an above-par person intellectually, you may find it hard rolling with people from this state. Their women are unrepentant sapiosexuals, and so are the men, except the ones that are not so lettered. Expect some touch of feminist inclinations from their ladies-it comes with hyper-enlightenment. Usual Yoruba looks- on the heavier side, round faces and some little paunch to go with it. The men are  average looking with a few exceptions.

Enugu

This state up in the hills has very appealing sights as it applies to the female gender. Nice, homely, impressionable sisters, with majority of their ladies above the regular five foot seven mark. The men are hunks, and hustlers as well. Pride in looking after their families, while having a good time too. The Nkanu men are stubborn and can be diabolic in its most evil definitions. Another business hub of Nigeria, with titled men landscaping the territory.

Gombe

Normal looking people. What you put in is what you get, for both genders. Pliable people. 

Imo

Woow. This baby of Sam Mbakwe is home to the finest set of handsome, lettered and intellectual gentlemen in the entire country. An Imo dude is the entire package. Brains, brawn, and style. The Mbaise people are the craftiest set of humans south of the Niger. The men for the most part are not your regular six footers, but you can have their facial constructions for dinner. Incredibly handsome blokes who can separate a world war. Highly lettered and enterprising, they love schooling and will go to any length for it. 

Their women are the toast of wifehood anywhere in the world. Heavily faithful and excellent homekeepers, most tribes waste no time to put a ring on an Imo lady. This would make a case for the tales of exhorbitant bride prices that waft from that axis, coupled with irresistible brains (both academic and street) and looks that adorn the average Imo girl. Genevieve Nnaji, screen goddess, is just a microcosm of what this state has to offer. But then as you inch towards Owerri, the state capital, you tend to see hordes of very wayward and worldly-wise women who would give an arm and a leg for a good time.

Jigawa

Core of the north, everything you know about northening applies here. Fine slender and tall males, equally gorgeous ladies, fastened by Islamic tenets. Shamefaced ladies in the open, but tigers and distance-goers behind closed doors. Loyal men who love their wives. Equally loyal women on the average.

Kaduna

 Kaduna means crocodile. The tenaciousness of a crocodile with its prey may have rubbed off on these people. The men are stubborn, egoistic, and mostly militant whether in the physical or intellectual sense, but love deeply when they do. Their ladies are increasingly becoming enlightened and taking up important positions in the society-usually intelligent ladies, yet it does not subtract the militancy from them. Average Kaduna lady wastes no time in baring her mind to you. There is some touch of alcoholism among them. There is a fair mix of tall and short men, average looking ladies with tendency of becoming fat in the future.

Kano

The Jigawa story applies here. The Kano population is mostly influxed by people from Niger republic who are Moslems, so there may be some inaccuracy in predicting them. The average Kano man is peace loving, indulges in his trade and minds his business. Loyal ladies, mostly Fulanis immigrating into the state.

Katsina

Don't expect a Katsina man to forgive you easily. Can be aggressive as well. Loyal women. Mostly influxed by Chadians and Nigerians.

Kebbi

Not much is known, but the usual northern heritage applies here

Kogi

The main tribes here are the Igalas, the Ebiras and the Okuns, a Yoruba variant in the state. The Igalas are the proudest set of humans i have ever met, with a bloated sense of ego which is usually unrealistic. They can be highly diabolical and in a very mean sense of it. Their women are okay, generally average looking, but they would make you understand they are doing you a favour rolling with you. Not very lettered in the real sense of the word, but when an Igala lady likes you, just leave the home to her. Usually faithful and good home keepers. An average kogi man likes to be in control, and to be noticed. Some go to extra lengths to garner attention.

The Ebira men have very short fuses and can switch from a smile to delivering a backhand slap like the acceleration of  a Ferrari. The same goes for their women. Acute diabolism, gangsterism, and indolence for the most part. They are hardly lettered. Their women are staunch and trouble makers wherever they go. But make no mistake-they can have very good hearts, and can be kind to a fault. Trample on that kindness and see their other side.

The Okun people are the most untrustworthy set of homosapiens on the face of the earth in my purview. Never go into a sensitive agreement with them, or else, you will have yourself to blame. They are terrible snitches and can give you away at the slightest loophole of advantage. 

On the average, they have a good sprinkle of handsome men, and eye-soothing women among the not-so-good looking ones.

The Ebira and Igala people bleach their skin a lot.

Kwara

Saraki’s state. Hmm. Traditional and normal looking men and women. Adultery is rife in this state. The snitching component of most westerners can also be expected here. Islam swept a large swathe of the state, so you can expect the self-righteousness of Islam to hold sway to some extent here. Some can be highly moral too, when they want to be.

Lagos

This state is a confluence of all kinds of characters. The men are in the bracket of what the ladies would tag ‘Yoruba demons’-terrible players and heartbreakers. They may be good looking and enterprising, but feed on female hearts. The women, all enlightened and educated for the most part, still find a way to fall for these blokes and yet come out to cry foul. Their women, once they get hooked on you, will cater to your every need, but expect to get some slight touch of feminism here and there. This could be an aberration since most of the parents instilled colonial values on these ladies, but then you know the kind of acculturation to expect as long as social media and TV is in the picture.

Nassarawa

The men are traditional and regimental. Enlightenment plays very little role here. They know where a woman belongs and put her there. No compromise, no matter whose ox is gored. There is a fair mix of good looking and otherwise men in this state. The average Nassarawa man has a very deep heart, and you hardly know what to expect, especially if you offend him, even when you try to make amends. They can be diabolical too when push comes to shove.

Their ladies are average. Education among women is still making nascent inroads here, so the women can afford to remain where they are placed by their men. They are generally not so good looking with some few exceptions, and are very loyal to their men in marriage or in relationships.

Niger

This state that shares boundaries with the federal capital has average men dotting the landscape. Becauise of the Fulani population influxing the place you are likely to see tall, slender, Gwari-speaking blokes. It is also spiced up with some enlightenment made possible by academic experience, so you can have some cool-headed men here. This education has also impacted the women, whose accents are like music to your ears. The women also have fair damsels here and there, but the strong cord of conservative Islam still holds sway here and binds them well. 

Ogun, Ondo, Osun

Education and enlightenment have made the men here high flyers and achievers in the fields they set their sights on. But then, they are hard core sycophants and bootlickers, who can do anything and go anywhere just for advantage. They are also world-class betrayers whom every person should be wary of either baring his life to or planning something sensitive with. This attribute also touches on the women, who can sell you short for a morsel of bread. Some of the men can be quite stingy, and the women as well. The cassanovaic tendencies are applicable in the men here, while the women have sparsely distributed mix of average looks and height. Because of the influence of education, expect the women to be entitled, feminist, independent, and possibly promiscuous. Even the discipline which holds sway in some of them is not to a man’s advantage, as they would leverage on that to become stubborn, manipulative and daring, telling you how much of a trophy they are. But you can be fortunate to also get some loyal ones who would stick with you and be respectful regardless. But do not be fooled when she sounds prim and proper in her online posts and comments; get to know her up, close and personal.

Oyo

The home base of most players in Nigeria. All that was said about Yoruba men apply here too, but it was separated because together with all of these tendencies, it is coated in a huge cocoon of diabolism for both sexes. There is also some level of parochialism that goes with Oyo people, which can be either put to good traditional use or be a total deal-breaker. The men are average-looking, but their women are usually thick with flabby arms, and are hygenically deficient. Most of their women have  the trademark paunch, and the fact that you have not seen it now does not mean it won’t come out. 

But there can be a few exceptions though, where you can get a nice man and a loyal woman who won’t be promiscuous.

Plateau

This state on the table land boasts of very good-looking tall men and equally very beautiful ladies,and there is the perk of being highly intellectual. But whatever you do, never ask a Plateau lady to stop drinking; you are either breeding a pretender or moulding your worst enemy. The men are unrepentant booze addicts, and a popular jibe has it that the plateau youths were in a drunken stupor and before they knew it Fulanis had taken over their land and balkanized it. Besides that, a plateau girl who loves you, loves you, and is quite loyal. The men mostly fall prey to baby mama drama in their hey days, but are excellent fathers.

Rivers 

The oil state!

By default, you should not be told what obtains where there is money, a water body, and very pretty ladies. Of course, sex in all its definitions and variations-prostitution, orgies, stripteases, pimping and all what not. Everything that is an enemy of marriage happens here-unfaithfulness, baby mama drama, fights, single parenthood, co-habiting partners, and as long as the list goes. In some cases, expect the average portharcourt lady to make passes at you, especially if you are good looking and have a deep pocket. The men, some of them good looking, just go with the flow and enjoy what comes their way heartily. Most households where there are young ladies have had at least one child outside wedlock.

Because the poverty rate is a little lower than in other states, you can expect gangsterism, cultism, and attendant crimes. Average Rivers man is a good social drinker, but easy going and nice, yet in most cases a heavy womanizer. The youths are indolent hand entitled, but there are few exceptions who go really far in academics and career. There could be some who graduate from drinking to get high on some stimulants and drugs. The women love their men too, are generous sex donators if you fit the bill or if they are into you regardless, and can be loyal in their marriages. But don't be too sure, because the moment an ex comes calling, you cannot be completely vouchful of her.

Zamfara, Sokoto

The baby of the north-west. Nascent and naive. Innocent islam works here, if you get my drift. Nice, loving men, except the immigrants from Niger and Chad who spoil their record. Loyal ladies. Pliable people.

Taraba, Yobe

Taraba has fearless men. Unknown to many this state contributed most of the men who fought the Biafran war in the 60s. They love drinking, and the women seemed to have taken cue from that as well. Most of the qualities that apply to Benue men and women work here.

Yobe has qualities akin to the people from Borno.

King David: Lessons for the Modern Day Christian

In my short stint with Christianity, I have had cause to review certain Bible characters and place them side by side our current walk with God as present day Christians. The substance of reading the Bible should spur us on to learning salient lessons from areas where these heroes of faith failed. The Bible was written 'for correction, instruction and reproof in righteousness', as we all know.

David. Woow. The approved of God. The man after God's own heart. The man people love to make reference to. The divine inspiration behind the all-important book of Psalms in the Bible. The role model of a lot of Christians today. That's okay.

But do you want to know my role model? Anyone but David.

I want to bring this to the fore because we have a lot to learn from the areas he fell short of God's standards. You see, a lot of the time, we Christians groan and whine from self-inflicted trouble, expecting God to show His omnipotence and where He doesn't, we go braying like overloaded donkeys, at how God has failed us and all of that talk. It is true that even the lawful captives will be delivered, according to the Bible,  but also remember the admonition that says we should suffer persecution, for righteousness, and not for being a busybody in other men's matters, and such like circumstances.

There are times God chooses to rise for someone's help simply because there is a divine purpose, or His sovereignty simply wills it that way. It is NOT a standard. The fact that Jacob was a cheat does not in any way excuse a Christian cheating in the name of the Lord. I would bring up two instances in David's life to support my position.

David was what you would call in today's parlance, from the 'streets'. His mother was not loved, and some unconfirmed accounts claimed that he came as a result of an adulterous affair. Some quarters believe the statement 'In sin did my mother conceive me' in Psalms 51 was directly referring to that fact. There was little or no domestication about him. He was a man of the field. Little wonder he, by the grace of God, was able to defeat the bear and the lion. But he was still wild in his ways, and it played out in a lot of ways in his life.

It was time for war, and when kings go to war, he chose to remain at home, for whatever reason. He saw a woman bathing, while lounging in his penthouse. Lust took the better of him, and he was hooked. Now, the Bible says that he inquired after who she was. I believe they must have told him this girl was related to his razor-sharp counsellor, Ahitophel. But no, he was past caring at this stage.

He went ahead to bed her, and when she became pregnant, he made plans to kill her husband and actually did. All this while, Ahitophel was watching and could do nothing about it.  This was the king we are talking about, who could challenge the king? By the way, if Ahitopel was David's adviser, they were approximately the same age, and for Bathsheba to be Ahitophel's granddaughter, David must have been at least two decades older than Bathsheba. But that is besides the point, if paedophilia isn't the issue here. After all, towards David's demise, a thirteen year old virgin was sent to keep him warm. A 13 year old virgin! Why this dizzying craving for women?

But a time came when Ahitophel would have his pound of flesh. His son Absalom rebelled, and Ahitophel quickly jumped ship. Imagine what would have happened had God decided not to answer David's plea for his counsel not to be taken.

This obsession with the female specie was to play out in his son Solomon, who held the world record at the time for sampling vanity and being the 'big god' to one thousand women in his lifetime. Haba!

Another occasion worthy of mention was the encounter with Nabal. Now the Bible described Nabal as churlish, rude and uncouth. But let us examine objectively, and with Christian, peaceful mindset, what went down between the both of them.

Nabal’s shepherds were herding sheep around the area where David and his men were camped. After the day’s job, they left, only for David’s soldiers to come to Nabal to demand sheep. Nabal, in a fit of rage, answered them roughly, and David took up arms immediately to charge towards him, but was accosted by his wife along the line.

The question is, what right had David to demand sheep from Nabal? Absolutely none. There was no contractual agreement that David should offer his men protection in exchange for sheep. So, what was the basis of David’s anger at his refusal to avail them of his livestock, to the point of wanting to kill him? Absolutely none. To tie maters up, the minute Nabal dropped dead, boom! Abigail became his wife instantly.

Some of the things that happened to David were self inflicted, others were just circumstantial, and the book of Psalms is full of David’s cries for deliverance. Is it little wonder then that God refused him the honour of building Him  a temple, on account of his stained hands?

There are a lot of lessons we can draw from this shining light of God, in the person of David. Where applicable, and as much as possible, let us refrain from doing evil and feeding our deadly cravings.

THE TRUST QUESTION

Too many times these days, the question ‘so you do not trust me?’ becomes a regular feature of relationships, business associations, and even platonic friendships. Indeed, it has become so commonplace that any kind of deviation away from that norm is viewed with dissent, and is even grounds to begin a fight or a quarrel with far-reaching potentials. A man with history of philandering suddenly expects his partner to hand him trust on a platter. A nascent business deal which brings two people together, one person is making doubly sure that he is not putting his money in the wrong place or dealing with a dubious person, and suddenly all blazes are ignited under that veil of ‘distrust’.

   Why do people expect trust to be something to be surrendered to by mere word of mouth and face value? Why is trust perceived to be free and unquestionable? Why is it such an important ingredient in a relationship, yet something that is hardly scrutinized and put to the test?

    Truthfully, a lot of people who have doled out trust undeservedly have always had finger-burning stories to tell. What is more dramatic about the matter is that people who scream at the first evidence of trust questioning are the ones who have a trust Achilles heel.

Be that as it may, do not be afraid to drill an associate or friend before reposing trust in the person. Do not get intimidated or overly emotional when that reverse psychology is used on you, to let down your guard when you should not, or to someone you should not.  In fact, people who should be handed such privileges are usually not afraid of scrutiny. At any rate, it does not matter how they take your prying questions and your peripheral attempts at analyzing their motives and actions. Trust is earned; let them work for it.

     On the other side of the divide, do not forget that it is a two-way thing, and we attract like energies. It is a universal law. You should also be a trustworthy person yourself. In a relationship, of whatever colouration, do all you can to be transparent in your words and actions. Based on precedences, you may not need to employ all the methods in the book to ascertain what your friend weighs on your trust scale, if you cultivate transparency and truthfulness.

You earn trust; let someone also earn yours.

CEDI commemorates Menstrual Hygiene Day

On Tuesday, May 28, 2019, Community Excellence and Development Initiative (CEDI), a non-governmental organization committed to empowering lives and building sustainable communities joined other WASH advocates to commemorate Menstrual Hygiene Day with the theme “It’s Time for Action”.  Menstrual Hygiene Day is usually celebrated on May 28 every year to raise awareness and combat taboos associated with menstrual hygiene with the goal of enabling women and girls to achieve their full potential.

As part of the WASH advocacy, the day was commemorated by conducting an awareness session for teachers and students of Junior Secondary School, Kuchigoro, Abuja. The Vice Principal, Admin., Junior Secondary School, Kuchigoro, Mrs. Nwagugu Pauline Ngozi in her remark appreciated CEDI for recognizing the need to sensitize her school on Menstrual Hygiene Management. She urged all teachers and students to imbibe the tips they will be taught and practice good Menstrual hygiene.

CEDI’s Public Health Expert, Miss Betty Essien in her lecture gave an overview of womens’ reproductive cycle with emphasis on menstruation. She introduced the participants to various options to manage their menstruation; how they can safely dispose of their sanitary pads, tips for good menstrual hygiene management among others. 

Brochures were distributed  to all participants and about 500 sanitary pads were given out to students to enable them practice and teach their families and friends what they have learnt and keep assimilating what they have been taught. This was in order to help change attitudes and establish a culture of good menstrual hygiene for generations to come. In addition, there were about 50 Menstrual Hygiene bracelets for the taking to inspire others to take action.  

Bar. Gatta Tokunbo, Director, Gender and Social Development at CEDI, in her closing remark appreciated all participants and encouraged them to keep practicing good menstrual hygiene. She re-emphasized that CEDI will continue to support and partner with other WASH advocates to promote menstrual hygiene management.

That Man

They made sure their bosoms were generously rested on his open palms, like he always liked. It was going to be a great showing today and he needed to view it pleasurably, in its strictest definitions.
The first nibbles of female tongues slushed through both sides of the side burns on his face, as hands whose terms of reference were to spider-walk round the perimeter of his torso signaled the beginning of their hedonistic duties. Only then did King Aurelius relaxedly take a first look at where he was.

The coliseum was packed to capacity with eager worshippers, some of whom were trickling in scarcely clad, and with swaying, drunken steps. The temple prostitutes and their cronies clung to some of the men as they made their noisy entry, tugging at what remained of their items of clothing, sometimes succeeding, sometimes not. At a corner close to where there was occasional dry humping, five men sorrounded a large basin of dracha- a locally made delicacy that was rumored to be capable of literally transporting one to the heavens and back. They poured scoops upon scoops of the white affair into their mouths until they were full, sat back, induced themselves to vomit, and resumed the consumption all over again, till basin after basin was downed and a large mess made all over the place.

It was Ishtar, dedicated to the goddess of fertility, and they had grown tired of these methods of proving their point. When they had invented crucifixion, and tested it on the first dissidents, it was adjudged by the pundits as the most effective and effectual deterrent. But it seemed boring after a few months, and despite the variants they added to it, it did not seem to perturb these infidels and their dedication to whatever it was they believed in. How could one live such a drab life, and be prepared to stake his life for it in addition? So suggestions after suggestions as to how to make the execution of prisoners more exciting had been pouring in, and this seemed to hold Aurelius' interest for the time being.

The first few gold coins splattered from a goatskin bag on the wooden platform before him, spilling some on the girl's lap. The hands which threw it were Vesuvuis's, the proconsul who had come visiting.
'I', he said listlessly.
'II', Aurelius replied defiantly, nodding to the orderly, who appeared with a handful of coins.
As soon as Vesuvius had made himself comfortable beside him, two scantily dressed damsels with burning eyes sat astride his thighs, setting to work with relish.

A part of the large space below the milling crowd opened, and a tall hunk of a man, naked to the hair on his body, was pushed out. Unashamedly scanning the space above and around him, he was pushed to the middle of the clearing, and the steel chains were unclasped from his feet. As soon as this was done, a mad loud cheer erupted from somewhere, and was re-echoed through the building, and drinks which carried invectives of all kinds were poured in his direction. After a few minutes of this, the guards, with an unspoken kind of knowing, ran into the crowd like it was a race for life.

Westwards into the clearing, a lion which was almost as tall as the man glided weakly into the clearing. The visible ribs, the dripping saliva and the sunken eyes of the beast left no one in doubt of its state. It however managed to run back a few feet at the first sighting of a man, but prodded on by the desperation to survive, it turned and let out an earth-shaking roar, before turning and launching his onslaught at the man at break neck speed.

With lisping lips and a determined straight gaze, the tall man waited for the lion to lift itself for the pounce. Calculating accurately, he side-stepped as his opponent was within inches of him, and delivered a savage kick to the beast's side, a loud crack informing him he had broken two ribs. The lion, recovering quickly but visibly weakened, charged again, intent on eating today or dying in the process.
This time, the emergency claws were put to good use, lacerating the man's upper body here and there, though it got a weakening share of punches and kicks, with cheers and lewd screams assuming ownership of the air.

At this point, some sticks and pieces of wood were thrown at him.
Arming himself the best he could, he made sure the next pounce was the lion's last. Using the typical side-stepping skill, he got the better of the animal's side, severing skin from bone with a piece of nail which had stuck to the lucky piece of wood. The ground became bloodied, the beast collapsed, and it's chest heaved down and remained so. The crowd was uncontrollable.

When the fatigued man rose, it was only to face two robust and menacing lions which taken strategic positions behind him. His lips never stopped moving. Both of them charged at him at once.

Oke's Rebirth

                                                                        

There was insistent knocking on the wooden door.

It happened twice first, four times next, and the next six times threatened the hinges of the door which could have bellowed at Miss Connor to pay whatever ransom she owed the assailants, if they had the voice.

She wondered who it could be at such time of the day when most productive people were toiling away at their farms. She listened intently for the gender of the knock, and her heart froze when it dawned on her. She put four of the twins deep into the deepest layer of the wooden basket, covered and muffled it for any sound, and proceeded to the door after what seemed like a day’s sojourn at the farm. Four stocky men with menacing faces and rippling chest muscles sauntered into the room and scanned it with eyes that seemed like it could see beyond the physical. While she was still wondering what they came for, a wizened, tall interpreter appeared. He spoke explicitly and factually to her.

‘We know you are hiding things we do not want in this village, in your house. We have explained time and again to you how we feel regarding what you seek so much to protect. You can go to the next village or town to liberate them; we know our gods and ancestors and they do not joke with what they tell us. You won’t be there to bear the consequences when it begins to happen. For peace’s sake, bring out the twins you are hiding.’

Miss Connor, coming to the realization of what this was about, faced Idim squarely, not minding the obvious disadvantage in both gender and stature, and irritated him with her rolly British accent. ‘What if you had come as a twin, and faced the risk of being killed like you are so vehement on doing now? If you can’t answer that, you have no right to raid my house in such a manner. At any rate, I am alone for now. There is no one else here. If you are satisfied, can you please leave my house with your henchmen?’

It took just a nod from him to get the men to work, flinging things over while it took just one man to keep her at bay from obstructing them, even though it wasn’t without having to endure her scratches on his arm and ear-filling rants about who owned the house and what right they had to have forceful access into it.

The basket was found.

It was brought into the open compound.

One after the other, eight fledgling, insanely beautiful, pink legs and arms kicking the air innocently, were extracted from the container, and put out in the midday sun.

The tallest two of the four men came, and one steadied himself as the other mounted his shoulder, and stood stout and tall. One after the other, the babies were handed to the top of the man-ladder, who released them from that height after series of incantations. The process was repeated until there was an inseparable mass of brains and blood splattered on the floor, and not one of them breathing.

In the recesses of the inner room, the guard whose job designation was to pin Miss Connor to the wall had somehow become intrigued at how fair and supple her skin was, and his hand had left her neck to experiment the feel of the moderate mounds on her chest, and had gone further and further, having no problems with her weak resistance and shouts for help. He descended on her womanhood with a mixture of curiosity and mad pleasure, and only stopped when there seemed to be no movement from underneath him. He hastened up and out, wondering how the others had forgotten about him.

The sun could as well burn off Meti’s back for all he cared. He was done.

What sort of thing was this? The curse Idiko, the creator of mankind placed on man for disobeying him could not have been as bad as this. It was too much. He was tired, thirsty, and when he looked at how many yam mounds he had made since morning, he almost wept.  To add to his woes, his waist ached  like he had been clubbed, all the circumference of his lower back. But he would not kill himself. Kill himself, only for someone else to come reap his labour? No way.

 He reached for his water gourd. Only three drops, when he turned it upside down.

Thankfully, there was a stream nearby.

The snake must have had some serious prior training on how to slither through grasses without alerting anyone, thought Meti as he stopped from giving himself generous helpings of the clear, cool stream water and turned to see the grasses moving like they were giving way to something behind him. He hadn’t had some snake stew in nearly two years, and the prospect of the delicacy propelled him to lift himself quickly from the water body and pick up his cutlass.

When he got there, the grass moved alright, but it was not a passing animal. In the stead of the snake he so much wanted to kill and brag to his wife about, were two of the loveliest creatures Idiko had ever created that he had ever seen. He knew what he had felt the first day he set eyes on his wife Eto, with that long shock of hair which got down to the small of her back, and the exhilarating feeling he got when his first daughter was handed to him some twenty two years ago, but he could swear by his mother’s grave that those were nothing compared to the beauties which lay before him, eyes wide and starry, peaceful and silent, their thumbs in their mouths, making loud slurping noises which made it look like they were enjoying what they were doing. He bent down to scoop them up.

A voice inside him asked him what he was doing, moments after the novelty of the innocence of what he was seeing, wore off. He made to drop them, but stopped to think. What kind of ancestors would forbid twins? Were these not the same ancestors whom the priests and priestesses claimed had their interests and protection at heart? At the behest of what he was dropping back where he saw it, the explanations and reasons given for killing these creatures suddenly began to lose weight, and made less and less sense to him. What exactly was a curse about having two children who looked exactly alike? Was that not supposed to be a blessing? Ositi had had three of them like that, and the thugs of the shrine had set all three of them on fire before their hapless parents. He could not understand it. But there was not a single time he cast eyes on what was before him that the senselessness and wickedness of killing them did not tug at his heart, without consideration. Let whatever will happen, happen. These ones would live.

He scooped them up and headed to his farm, and waited till it was pitch dark. He went home straight, and brushed aside every cautious question directed at what he had brought home. Surprisingly, his entire family felt the same way he felt about the bundles of beauty, and there was an unspoken but water-tight bond of secrecy they all entered into that night.

‘Relax…..

‘You know I love you too much to let you throw your life in jeopardy like this. What do you mean by that?’

‘I said relax. Don’t you trust me anymore? When I say relax, you relax. I have everything under control.’

‘How exactly are you going to pull this off? You and I both know you are a bad boy, a bad influence, and an undesirable person among the village folk. How I ended up loving you this much is still a surprise to me. My father almost sliced off your head the last time you came to our house. How do you imagine you can convince my father to let you have my hand in marriage?’

Osa looked deep in the eyes of Itim, and felt her cheeks, and the rush of blood to the supple fair skin was almost heard, turning her pink instantly. He reveled in their softness and brought his face closer to hers. ‘I told you to trust me’, the air coming from his mouth hot as he blurted the words. He felt for the loose end of her wrapper, and tugged at it, but she was faster. She caught hold of the item of clothing before his eyes could be fed, and tightened it ever so well above her bosom. ‘You know we can’t do this now’, she stuttered, and brushed her hands lightly over his bearded cheek, disappearing that instant.

‘Itim…….’

He didn’t even get a backward glance.

The first toilet in the village of Dinki was the one in Miss Connor’s house. Meti had used it when he had gone to deliver some maize to her sometime ago. She had even paid some people to construct one in the market square,  the Izi’s palace, and some select spots in the village, and ever since, people had begun to have something similar in their houses. It consisted of a hole deep enough into the ground which was fitted with three to four stones strategically placed, in a small space walled round with raffia palm, and it was made very appealing to the user. Meti had one in his house too, but somehow did not like the idea of dropping the load in a closed space. He liked the early morning feel of the cool breeze on his buttocks as he relieved himself, and the nearby bush close to the farm presented a ready alternative.

Even now, as he had learnt of her gruesome death, Meti could not help but shudder at the thought of what they called tradition and how it was affecting them all in this village. She had been extracted from her room, unclothed and bloodied all over, and had been thrown to the evil forest. The priest had called her death ‘the spoils of a struggle’ and had rubbed that dark substance all over her, amidst incantations, before turning her over to the henchmen for disposal.  But the entire thing confused him. After Isako and his entire family died of swollen stomach for trying to hide a set of twins, no one dared to do it anymore, for fear of the gods. But he was ready to dare the gods on this one. How can the gods who created them, support killing in this way? By now there was not a fibre in his body that saw the sense in the whole thing. His children were grown, and could farm well. What did he have to lose in the first place? Well, his wife……but who said he would die?

A large breadfruit dropped with a loud thud behind him just as he was cleaning himself up. When what, or rather who it was, materialized before him, with one smile he couldn’t quite place, he reached for his cutlass. But there seemed to be no fear in the youngster’s face, even though he stood a respectful distance away.

‘Diiiii’, he greeted.

‘If it is about my daughter, you know the answer.’

‘But please, I love the ground that girl steps on. Don’t do this to me. I may not be good enough, but who knows if she could change me? When last did you hear of, or see me fight or steal? If you are honest, you will agree that it’s quite an age. Please, I am doubly sure I can take care of her, and I know she loves me too. Don’t deny me love, please…’

‘Even if I were to allow you on your own account, which would still be impossible, haven’t your parents told you what they did to me? How they stole all of my father’s inheritance? How they used their connections with the Izi to strip my family of all they had? Please don’t come here to re-open old wounds. Does it mean my daughter is still seeing you despite my warnings? Leave this place this instant, before the gods descend on me for murder…’

Osa spread-eagled himself on the grassy floor, and curled himself in such a way that his legs became shorter than they actually were. He put out his shortened left arm in a way that made it look like he interlocked it with another person’s, and put his right thumb in his mouth, and closed his eyes, sucking profusely. He would open it at intervals to wink at Meti, in the midst of smiling lips, and continue until he felt he had appropriately passed his message.

‘What is this? What are you doing?’

‘You see, even though I would not want to partake in any curse on your account, I am beginning to think again about the customs you people parade as tradition in this village. But on the other hand, I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to, because I am also in love with those pretty little things. But as it stands now, this is something I must do. I love your daughter, and since I cannot think of any soft way of doing this, this is my only resort. I saw you take those twins from the stream the other day. You either allow me have my way with your daughter ,or I report you to the priest.’

The cutlass dropped from Meti’s hand.

‘Don’t go hurting Itim; she didn’t tell me. She doesn’t even know that I know. Like I said, I would not do this if I didn’t have to. I just hope I will not be forced to report you. Diiiii’.

Two months later, ten thugs appeared and surrounded Meti’s compound one morning, turning the sweet maize he was chewing into mud in his mouth on sighting them, and deciphering why they had come. He quietly shepherded his wife and children to the back of the house while they did their do.

‘What took you so long?’

‘What sort of question is that? Is it because I agreed to meet you up here? It’s like you are taking my love for you for granted. Don’t you know I have work to do? You think I am as lazy as you are, or my parents are as wealthy as yours?’

The questions threatened to go higher and higher, but Osa had not come to fight. He placed the magical hand on her cheeks, and the seas calmed instantly.

‘I’m sorry, my sun. I can’t bear the thought of you away from me for a second. It would be worse still if it were someone else keeping you. I would kill myself if it happens……’

‘Have I ever done anything to make you doubt me? Look at my lips when I’m talking: this body, this heart and this soul, are all yours. Believe me……’

Things went farther than she had planned. But Osa was determined. It was this way or no other. She just had to bear with him. It was love, nothing more. No other girl touched him deep like this piece of divinity who had no business being among humans, and the only place she was going to was anywhere beside him.  Surprisingly, he did not meet with much resistance. This was good. The desire was mutual. Before long they had become inseparable, the feel of the moment heightened by the feathery caress of the grass on their bodies. The heavens touched the earth, and shook hands.

‘You are pregnant.’

It was more like she was being accused than asked.  But, what was the use of running round in circles? Whatever wanted to happen would not kill her. Wasn’t it the elders that said that there was nothing the eyes would see that would make it weep blood? There was no speck of regret over what she had done. Father was the one making all of this so complicated because of some family feud years before she knew what was called a world. One way or the other, this was bound to happen. It was to be either in honour or ignobly; in pride or humility. Anyway, she didn’t care. She would have cared if it were anyone else other than the man who made her world swirl.

‘It’s Osa’s’.

She did not wait for the exasperated screams of her mother bemoaning what a disgrace she was bringing to the family and asking the gods what she had done to deserve such a treatment of a child, nor the hate-burned gaze of her father who had heard the commotion and had appeared to silently take in what was happening; she disappeared into the inner room to wait for what would come next.

In a question of a month, her father was forced to, in a meeting devoid of the funfare and pleasantries of families whose relationships were to be thus cemented, accept the offerings and statutes for the hand of Itim in marriage.

‘Just a little more.  A little more. Its coming! See the head!’

Twelve women surrounded her in a semi-circle, their wrapper forming an opaque wall which was made even so by their bodies which would have made sure nothing was left to the view of whoever it was that had no right of pass to view whatever was happening in the middle of that circle, save for the earth-shattering cries of the woman who was in the fine dividing line between two worlds, and perhaps the first cry of what came forth out of her. The birth pains had come suddenly to Itim, and before she knew what was happening and could gather herself to run to Aku, the local healer, who also was well versed in these things, the water had broken and it had happened right there in the centre of the large compound where they lived.  Her marriage to Osa under such peculiar circumstances had been noised about, tottered about, nosed about by the market women and the hair stylists, and it did not matter to her the occasional smirk she thought she caught with her side eye whenever she passed by a group of women: she was content with, happy with, and cared only for the explosive love she shared with Osa.

But when help mattered the most, the women of Oke knew the difference between what they felt and what needed to be done, and so, hardly had her first cry for help rung out, than the first set of women mobilized themselves and sent word round to whoever was available, and Itim was enmeshed in a mixture of feelings when it was obvious that it was not just a single baby in her womb. As for the women, they had come, they had come. It had to be seen through, to its end.

They prodded, and prompted, and encouraged, and inspired, until one last burst of strength shot out the second hairy, pink, smallish mass of little flesh and noise.

At that same instant, unknown to each and every one of the people of Oke, two identical babies came forth in the homesteads of the Izi, the priest, ten chiefs, and twenty other families.

News travelled fast in the village of Oke. It was public knowledge in no time that the village had become on the verge of being exterminated. The gods must have deemed them fit for annihilation to have visited them in this manner. The next market day, there was a distraught chief priest at the market square, kneeling with his hands in the air. There were twelve boys kneeling beside him, and there was a surprised gasp when everyone saw what each person saw.

The twelve boys were twins.

‘Kinsmen, I am sorry. I don’t know where to begin. I am tired of this killing and bloodshed. There is no curse anywhere. All the killings, I am responsible. There is nothing like swollen stomach. I made it happen.’