By Ovundah Nyeche.
Today I got thinking again…
I went online… And Prof. Pius Adesanmi was trending again…
Apart from the tribute…
Many of his masterpiece were shared online…
Though I follow him online, but today for the first time, I listened to his masterpiece, The parable of the shower head 🚿…
Where he told a story about his experience in a classy Nigerian hotel 🏩 where all the holes in the 🚿 shower head in his room were not open, even if the shower was working.
He would call the reception to complain about the bad shower and they would send a technician on time to come fix the shower in his room.
However, he was shocked the well kitted technician was more at peace with the fact, that the shower was working, and not if all the holes of the shower head 🚿 were open.
He used the shower head, as a metaphor, to talk about, our love for our culture of mediocrity…
His photos are everywhere…
I also shared his photo 📸, but when he was alive, I don’t think I ever did…
His works and all the books he wrote are also hitting our faces…
The fact he was a national treasure has been resounded countless number of times; and even the President acknowledged him in death…
If any of his work is currently been promoted or released, it will sell like “bole” and fish…
Go to any burial ceremony and villains become saints…
Go to any burial ceremony and see eulogies…
Wait for people to pass on.. And you hear the beautiful things they meant to others…
Wait for people to pass on, and their unpainted and dilapidated houses 🏘 bear a new look…
People who never visited, come visiting…
Death reveals a lot of things…
How come 🤔, when people are alive, they are overlooked, but when they die… They are everywhere?
How come people, have a larger than life figure when they pass on?
How come many people are celebrated in death more than life? 🤔
Would it be better to eulogize, support, value, love, encourage people when they are alive…
Would it be better to fan their dream and tell them a kind word…
Would it be better to give them a helping hand and not wait for them to die, before we realize they matter.
Give people flowers 💐 to smell when they are alive and not wait until they pass on… to fill their doorsteps with bouquets of flowers.
The dead don’t smell flowers 💐, the living do.
Make a difference in someone’s life today… Don’t wait until they are gone.
#hearword #OvdSpeaks #hearwordseries
The Mob is not always right…
By Ovundah Nyeche
Years ago, when I was serving as a corps member, I saw a disturbing news online. In my house state, some boys where caught in a locality close a university.
The area was notorious for cultism and criminality at that time and they had apparently gone to collect a debt owed one of them in the community, and the accusation of “Thief oh… Thief oh” at a time when thieves were rampant meant they were branded guilty by labeling and that was is…They were thieves, because a majority of people accused them of been thieves.
In minutes they were stripped naked, paraded around the community and executed in a painful and horrible way… They did not live to tell their story.
When the dust settled, it was found out that they were not thieves and they were innocent men, caught at the wrong place at the wrong time, branded criminals, proclaimed criminals and their lives snuffed away, due to an accusation with evidence gathered solely from hear say, emotions and sentiments.
Recently also in my city, a “Thief oh.. thief oh” accusation was shouted in a market place and an innocent woman was in the center of the whole scary situation… And she was dehumanized and dealt with ruthlessly, she was lucky she lived to tell her story, as it was later revealed she was not a thief and the accusation was false.
Recently online, a story filtered of two young men, who were saved by the grace of God. The two brothers were carrying a restrained woman, who happened to be the wife of the driver of the car, to a psychiatric hospital.
When onlookers noticed the restrained woman who was also saying she was been kidnapped, the men were rounded up and given the beating of their lives only to saved by the timely intervention of the police, who found out they were actually taking the woman to a psychiatry home.
Also do you remember all those cases of people been accused of stealing people’s private parts in marketplaces and the gist of how there were several male sex organs in their bag and how the beaten person kept replacing the organs until it matched with that of the person he or she stole an organ from.
“Did you see him taking the organs? … No… Where you there? No… But I saw when they were beating the man”.
With a mob, an accusation is many times as good as a verdict and a statement of fact… Like a playwright said “A cockroach can never be innocent in the gathering of chickens”.
While it is true many people who were caught by a mob were guilty of a crime, it is also very true that many accusations are false and many times even those guilty, receive punishments greater than their crime, and receive punishments from people not authorized or vested with the power to enforce verdicts.
Which brings me to an important point… Whether on social media, virtual world or in real life, no one deserves to be a victim of a mob justice. It is scary, it is life altering, you will likely never be innocent. Even Jesus was found guilty by a mob… In a mob the louder the shout, the more likely the mob will have their way and justice will be far.
Imagine being accused for a crime you did not commit even on social media and see how a band wagon will gather, even those who have never interacted with you before may even accuse you as well, and amplifiers will take the accusation to the next level.
As you go this week and in life… I pray you never be part of a mob justice in real life… Jumping into matters you have no details about, because they are popular, or trending and you wish not to run against the track of popularity. May you never be a false accuser or an amplifier of a false accusation.
May we seek justice the right way and the right way only.
#SELAH #hearword #OvdSpeaks #hearwordseries
Pregnant, but not
By Ovundah Nyeche
Felicia so you have been cheating on me? So these 2 children are not mine? These bastards? Felicia whhhhhhhhhhy, Felicia how could you do this to me after all we had gone through?
Felicia never knew this journey to this DNA laboratory, for a paternity test of her children would take this turn. Suspicion on the paternity of her children, were first entertained when her twins needed to do a haemoglobin genotype and the result came out as AS for both of them.
How this happened she could not explain, all she knew was that both she and Sammie her husband had AA as their genotypes and there was definitely a mistake somewhere, but all the laboratories they went to thereafter showed the same thing; the past few months had been terrible as her hitherto beautiful and exemplary marriage was now at the brink of collapse.
To complicate the matter, Sammie her husband who was screaming at the top of his voice, just held his chest and collapsed, on the chair, weeping as he did so. It was raining troubles for her.
Felicia too was shocked, never in her life had she played kerewa outside, never, Sammie was her one and only. There was no way, it was just Sammie and her; as she was in thoughts, moping at the result, she collapsed too and suddenly found herself in a land called nowhere.
Yes, 7 years ago, she was finding it hard to conceive, it was her 4th year of marriage without children and as usual, she had visited several doctors, who told her she would need an IVF. About the same period, her friends told her of one woman that does wonders… Her name and reputation preceded her… She was called Madam Last Bus Stop.
Madam Last Bus Stop, had helped a lot of women who were having issues with conception. When Felicia, told her about her issue and how she had been unable to hold a child of her own for 4 years, Madam Last Bus Stop laughed and told her…Felicia whhhhhhhhhhy, you would have come here since and saved yourself the humiliation of barrenness.
The fees were agreed #1,000,000 Shekels it was, she agreed, she was desperate… Curiously it was even more expensive than what the doctors charged her for the IVF; their crime however was telling her, that there was a possibility of failure… Madam Last Bus Stop beating her chest… Told her it cannot fail, that her method was failure proof. She talked with an unusual kind of authority and charisma… Felicia paid half the fee on the spot, desperate times call for desperate measures they say, abi no be so?
She was then counselled on the rules of conception, eat kpomo, swallow bole and a head of roasted fish weekly… You will come for monthly injections, one every month oh, are you hearing? You will also not take alcohol or cigarette, you should also not visit any hospital oh, the bad energy and evil spirit is too much, also don’t bother doing an obstetric scan in any other place apart from the facility we refer you to and we would tell you when to come for labour, you know this pregnancy is unusual.
The next day she came for her first dose of her special monthly injection and she was also told to meet her husband by 7 pm that night and days after her ovulation which was calculated to be the next day. Felicia was so excited, Madam last Bus Stop told her, that if she was scared she should google Cryptic pregnancy.
Weeks later she did not see her period as expected and she was so happy and immediately rushed to do a pregnancy test …for where…it was not positive. Disappointed, she called Madam Last Bus Stop who allayed her fears and explained to her that the test would be negative as it would not detect the presence of the baby.
She reminded her to come for her next injection and asked her, “if women did not see their period was it not pregnancy again?”
The 2nd and 3rd month, she still continued her injections and truly, her stomach was growing, growing, 4th and 5th month it was still growing and growing much, she was called Mama Ejima by her neighbours. Even the scan she was forced to do outside by her husband showed there was no baby, but the one done in the place the woman directed them to, showed a baby and they claimed the baby was hiding at the back, Felicia was so happy.
Finally she was fully convinced that she was pregnant and the wait for her remaining monthly injections and delivery started. When she was 9 months pregnant, she was told to come back in 2 weeks and that period given some medications, few days later she was having abdominal pains which became serious and was then told to come to the facility and a quick surgery was done, well she was unconscious and when she woke up, she was delighted by the sight of the two lovely twins by her side.
Well around the 5th to 7th month of pregnancy, she was also given some tablets to swallow and from the 7th month of pregnancy till when she delivered she was told to stop taking the tablets and was told to pump her breast with a breast pump regularly.
She felt so fulfilled breastfeeding her own children. As she left the facility, she paid for the delivery, having cleared the balance for her conception months earlier.
Was it possible, these babies, were not her? Was it possible that was why she never felt kicks and her labour was delayed? Was it possible that was why Madam Last Bus Stop never wanted her to visit any medical facility or do any investigation outside her delivery home? Oh, that was it, she had been conned. Nooooooo.
Her loud scream, drew the attention of her husband, who asked her why she was screaming. Felicia had just had a nightmare in the afternoon, she thought of going out minutes ago, but was feeling very sleepy after having a hectic day the day before, and dozed off on the cushion in the living room.
Truly speaking before she went to sleep, she was worried about her inability to conceive after 4 years of marriage and a lot of neighbours had told her to try a lady in the outskirts of the city, but she would rather go with her husband to see the doctor, than endanger her life.
The story above is purely fictitious; any similarity with anyone in the story above and anyone living, dead or in between is definitely a miracle.
Thank you for reading, would love to get a feedback from you in the comment section, or send me a private message by clicking https://ovundahnyeche.com/523-2/and filling the contact form.
Everyone needs to Hear Word…
By Ovundah Nyeche.
Grin Grin Grin…
I get a call, I was to be a speaker in a conference in Lagos, Nigeria.
The organizer had emailed me earlier… But there was a little issue, my hands were full…. And my calendar was not smiling.
After deliberation, I agreed with the organizer on a date, as it appeared, a day was free in my calendar 🗓.
However the plan was get to Lagos, give the talk and get back to the Garden city of Port Harcourt on the same day.
The next day was my clinic, so no matter what happened on God’s earth, I had to be back on the same day…
I woke up that day, and my bag was already packed, I received my goodbye hug, from my “front hugger-in-chief” … I drove to a distance and my in-law completed the rest.
I arrived Omagwa or was it Ipo on time ⌚… While waiting to get to my destination, I had to do a second check on the slides I was to present in the conference.
And then I discovered, my slides which I spent ample time to prepare were trying to do a fast one on me… My heart was in my mouth… There was nothing I did not think about…
I had a small chat with my big dad, touched some keypads, and somehow I figured out the issue.
In about an hour I was close to my destination.
Few minutes earlier, I had boarded a waiting Taxify Taxi to venue of the conference.
Well there is no Taxify in Port Harcourt, I know there are other online taxi booking services, but I don’t know how effective they are in the garden city.
In less than 15 minutes, I was in the venue for the conference, and it was obvious I was in Lagos, as the posters of Sanwo-Olu a Governorship candidate kept monitoring every step I took.
You know that feel… If there were CCTVs attached to his eyes 👀, Las Las, I would have been effectively tracked.
But it was strange the road was so free… Was it not the same Lagos, my friends always scream about… Traffic… Traffic… Traffic… No those talks were graphics…. The road was so free and it was about 10:00 am or so…
In less than 15 minutes, I was in the conference Centre in a serene environment in Maryland.
The conference was a huge success, and it was a great time connecting with the host as well as the participants, as well as a bosom friend that came to say Hi to me.
Time flew, from 2 O’clock in no distant time it was 5 O’clock. I was to leave Lagos by 7 O’clock sharp.
My host made plans to book an Okada for me… As in motorcycle… For me, after telling me how wonderful it was.
For where, wu wu not take it… Oga do you know they banned Okada in the Garden City of Port Harcourt… Do you know Okada use to wound person…Oga do you know that as they banned Okada the number of head injury patients in my hospital 🏥 reduced.. Okada people wey no dey Hear Word…Oga wu wu not take it.
Oga I no gree… Well it took about 15 minutes to get here in the morning, it won’t take up to an hour to get to the airport, and check in I reasoned.
Maximum, I get to the airport sharp 6:30 PM… Shebi they said Las Las I should have checked in by then.
My host smiled and booked the Taxify.
In less than no time the taxi 🚖 was at the venue of the conference and we took the apparently short journey to the airport… No be 5:00pm… No worry yourself… My host looked at me… And I am sure in that look he saw the future.
The journey back to the airport was great and boom the first diversion, the 2nd diversion, the 3rd diversion… And time was ticking…
I saw first hand the traffic jam…my friends always talked about… As we were rooted in a spot for minutes… 5:30 PM…6:00 PM.
I did not need anyone to tell me… I had to cancel the trip.
Even a bike may not have done justice.
Several Kekes seemed to be also stuck in the spot. If Keke had no hope, the car I was in was hopelessly hopeless then.
I had to enter another vehicle, my Legedis Benz…
My destination was an overhead bridge 🌉 where I would take an alternative means of transport to the airport.
I trekked pass was it Archbishop Vinning Memorial Church ⛪, passed what looked like a Police Training College… And in no distant time I was in front of LASUTH gate… This place was familiar, I stayed here for about a week about 5 years earlier.
I got to the overhead bridge, and you know what I bordered an Okada…Okada I had rejected over an hour ago.. And this one was without helmet oh.. I had to it was 6:15 PM or 20…No body tell me… I had to.
The constant call from my host, to know how far I had gone, sounded like a “Brother it is well, all will be well”.
I rushed to the airport, and discovered I was in the wrong terminal.
I had to enter into another Okada and by the time I ran into the airport to check in…
They had officially closed the counter.
Madam, I have to rush back I told those in the counter, Abeg na…
Na una hold up oh.. I left early for the airport oh… Plsssssssssss… I need to be in Port Harcourt ASAP…
For where, they were saying you have to rebook for another flight tomorrow and pay for late charges…
That was not what I wanted to hear… Madam, Oga I have to leave Lagos now oh…
I don’t know how this touched them…
They put a call across…
Wrote my ticket on a paper…
I ran to be checked by the security/ official in another gate… And they called again… And they were told to let me go through…
Moments later I was in a shuttle that took me to the plane…
And when I boarded, I looked like the guy who came to the exam hall, when his mates were already seated in the exam hall with their question and answer papers…
Las Las, we go land together.
Las Las, me too needed to Hear Word.
Las Las, I Heard Word.
And I will enter Okada, whenever I am told to enter Okada…
#hearword #OvdSpeaks #hearwordseries
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