The Day We Meet

You are blue and I am white

You look up, I look down

What do we do on the day we meet?

His heart said it all

When her heart understood

That life is black and then white

But we must love ourselves

The day we meet

For "we" is everything there is

And to "we" give our best

On the day we meet

Scriptwriter87@gmail.com

Twitter:@club7teen

Aside

That's a willful accusation of the good people of Aba. But what can I say? She's beautiful and she was wearing a nice mini gown and chocks and behaving like she just came into the country and coming to the great city of Aba for the first time.

When she came into the bus, she asked "how many people sit on a row, three or four? I didn’t say anything. I didn't want to. I had encountered her a few minutes ago and she acted like she doesn't go to the toilet, like she just dropped from the sky and that guy with her, he was pampering her so much. But what could I do?  She's so beautiful.

She asked again and the lady beside her answered " three people sit on a row. " It was as if she wasn't convinced because she asked again. Then the lady who answered her spoke in a voice that sounded as if she was alarmed. She said "stop asking so they won't hear your question and carry four people." I was surprised to hear that. I turned and said to both of them "They carry just three people, never four."

I thought that lending my voice to their conversation would convince her but that was when she committed the crime: when she insulted the great city of Aba and her people. She said "Is it not Aba? I thought they even seat five five on a row." I couldn't believe my ears. How dare she? Was she trying to imply that the great city of Aba does not care for her children and visitors? Does she know Aba? The great city that opens her arms to all the other cities around and never tries to scare them with her bad roads? The city that opens her arms in trade,  selling both original and fake goods without any bias for either.

 I was visibly vexed at that audacious and unfounded insult and accusation on the great city of Aba. A man from the back seat told her "They can't carry four people. It's not possible." The lady who was pleading with her kept on pleading with her to stop so they don't increase the number of passengers. She replied "I'm just saying because that's how I thought people in Aba would behave." That was when I turned to her and said in a stern tone, "dem no fit carry four people. Na only three three people dem de carry for seat. Dem no fit try am." And that was all I could do because she was so beautiful.

Throughout the journey, she kept behaving like Oyibo. And for me, I kept stealing glances at the lady who insulted the great city and the guy who was pampering her so much. He was feeling like he got a catch. But who am I to blame him; she is so beautiful.  However, as we got closer to the great city of Aba, we got held up in traffic. I heard my Oyibo lady say something in Igbo and I smiled. "Aba don de touch her small small."  When you come, you will bow. Such is the power of the great city of Aba.

But what will she do when she encounters her very bad roads, her flooded streets, the mosquito infested gutters and all those very nasty sights? What will she  do when she goes to Ariaria and the other markets where shop owners and buyers swim to the market; where a woman sells her wares beside huge refuse dumps? Then maybe, she might make a tour to areas like Ngwa road, Osusu and Omuma roads.  Maybe that's when she will understand the kindness of the great city. That's when she will understand that the great city has the power to kill her children and visitors with diseases and infections. Yet, in her kindness, she chooses to send them to her hospitals instead, where they are treated with cheap drugs that makes them to visit over and over again. I remember my father complain that the drugs his doctor gives him is not effective. He actually calls them routine drugs. 

That's why we remain grateful to our great leader-T. A ORJI, the OCHENDO of the great city of Aba for his large heart and kindness. Can we ever forget him and his huge impact on the great city of Aba?

Long live the great city of Aba.

scriptwriter87@gmail.com

Twitter : @club7teen

THE SOUNDS FROM WHEELCHAIRS

Something great is happening in the East and I'm glad I'm a part of it. It's usually exciting to be a part of history.

Last week I got a call from a friend to help out in a studio work. I asked if I could join next time, he said I had to come that day. I asked for a few hours to round up a work I was doing but he pleaded that I show up ASAP. He had been calling all day and my line was switched off. I got ready as quickly as I could and got to the studio. Divineklass studio is a really nice place with nice staff and situated in a cool part of Owerri town. You couldn't ask for more if you wanted a studio to record.

I walked into a room filled with beautiful people, all on wheelchairs. Their faces were cheerful and friendly and they seemed quite eager to learn though they were all quiet older than the instructors. They were being prepared for a music competition for the physically challenged. I simply fell in love with the atmosphere.

Work was already in progress, so I joined in. One of the coordinators, Temi, was instructing, correcting and encouraging all at same time.

The instrumentalists were also at it. Headed by Terry, the friend that called, their job wasn't easy. Aside our native Igbo instruments, some of the competitors have never sung with instruments. So, it was a case of jumping from one key to another. Luckily for us all, the team of players were competent enough for the task ahead. Then, we, the backup singers set to work as well; learning their songs, correcting as much as we could, downloading songs for those who needed it and smiling in /saying words of encouragement.

After the day's rehearsal, we all exchanged numbers. We called one another. It was a family. One of them called me to sing her song over the phone; she wanted me to hear that she had made the corrections we pointed out to her. I was touched by the gesture. One of the backup singers got sick on one of the days of rehearsal. Boy, did we feel her absence?

On the D-day, we got to the venue after some hours of rehearsals at the studio. I was amazed by the sight. The event was way bigger than we thought. It was a comedy show/talent hunt for the physically challenged. The red carpet was in place. Once you were checked, you received a food pack. The hall was beautifully arranged. The sound and lighting were on point. Kudos to all the sponsors of this event, especially Divineklass studios.

 Divineklass studios is known in town for their excellent works; from music recording to DJ services,  photostudio to organising of events, and video coverage of events to movie production. That night, they showed us everything they are worth and much more. There was so much order. All their ushers and ticket-crew were polite. The stage-lighting was so beautiful, that I wanted to jump on stage to perform (lol).   Mc Bossman, the brand ambaassador of  D.K Studio did a handsome job of compeering the event. He brought his team of comedians and we really had fun. Divineklass studios did an amazing job for an amazing night.

The event opened with a soulful rendition by a lady. Many other singers presented that night. The most beautiful was the song presentation by Melody. When she sang, it felt like we were in heaven. In between the presentation by the contestants, there was comedy and dance. The comedians really dealt with our ribs. It was an awesome night. The winners finally emerged. Two of our singers came second and third and went home with cash prizes of #200,000 and                       #150,000 respectively. A dancer came first and went home with the grand prize of #250,000. Sincerely, I wanted one of our singers to win the first prize but the judges decided best.

I was particularly touched that someone could remember the physically challenged members of our society. Going up the stage and performing under the spotlight must have done something to their ego; thumbs up to all the sponsors of this show.

Now guess what? I wasn't just part of a great event; I became part of history. This is the first talent show for the physically challenged in Nigeria and who knows, maybe in Africa as well.

 Scriptwriter87@gmail.com

Twitter: @club7teen   Instagram: @club7teen

A poem for a birthday

And so he prayed

I celebrate you today

For being alive

For living a life of purpose

For having a good conscience

And for great things ahead

These things I also celebrate

 And then much more

That God loves me much

And as little as I am

He made me a great part of creation

And gave me a Destiny

And as little as I am

He finds enough room to live inside me

And bends low enough to hear me pray

And in a busy schedule, feels my pain when I despair

It was the God of a great Creation

That needed to make me

Because He needed me, in the great picture He had painted

That brought me in

If He lives in me

How great I am!

How great the day I was born!

How beautiful I have become!

Happy Birthday To Me

Sunday, 8th of May was my birthday. Initially, I didn't have money to mark but I trusted God that I will have a nice day. Saturday, a friend booked a cake for me. on the d-day, my younger siblings came all the day to be with me; they brought food, lol. My wonderful sister bought drinks and bottles of wine. I bought some and cooked more food. Some friend came with wine. More friends visited and it became a full blown house party with lots to eat and drink. I had super fun and of course, I got gifts. In gratitude, I wrote that poem to God...

Time

It won't time take time, she said

And I turned to look at her

Does she know what she says

Because I'm yet to see that which does not take time

Whether it's the inventions or the announcement

And whether it's the wedding ceremony or the dance rehearsal

There's one thing they all do

They take time

And when she said, it won't take time

It also took time

And so no matter how long it takes

Enjoy it

Because time is all it will take

Scriptwriter87@gmail.com

Twitter: @club7teen   Instagram:@club7teen

A madness across borders

I once saw a mad man at the border of Togo and Benin Republic                

He was actually strolling across the border of the two countries                     

And I marveled at the strength of his madness                                                     

A madness that transverses two countries                                                      

A madness across borders

I think of our politicians                            

Strong and wise men                             

They steal money from our country and take to other countries                                      

And there develop those countries while their kinsmen die of common disease                                                          

I think of the madman and I think of their madness                                                     

A madness across borders

And when a man wakes up one day        

Only to decide to become a woman       

Because inside his masculinity, he misses his menstrual cycle                         

And the world rises to celebrate the she-man                                                       

I think of the madman                              

I think of our politicians                                

I think of the world celebrating the she-man                                                        

A madness across borders

scriptwriter87@gmail.com                      

Twitter: @club7teen

The Audition

Early this year, while I drove with my cousin in his car, he told me about a movie his friend would produce later in the year and asked if I was interested. I answered yes. I'm not an actress, although I was in the Church drama group as a teenager and in my later years, wrote scripts for the team; I still wouldn't call myself an actress. I simply wanted to do something new.

The audition was to hold in February. He called me a few times to remind me. He assured me that a minor role was already reserved me: I just needed to prove my worth in the audition. A few weeks to the date, I lost interest in the program. "What made you change your mind?" my sister asked when she noticed I wasn't keen on being a part of the auditions anymore. "I have a lot of written works to finish, acting is not my thing. Let me focus on what I know best to do," came my ready answer. To worsen the matter, I started stuttering really bad that week. I stutter but I always have a way to control my speech. That week however, all hell was let loose on my tongue. I would speak with such difficulty and my heart would ache. I was so sure I wouldn't go. I had only one problem: how was I going to disappoint my cousin at the dying minute? Luckily for me, my neighbour has been nursing an acting dream. She overhead my sister talk about the audition and then came to meet me. "Ah ah, Ij, you have such an opportunity and you never told me," she said. I didn't understand at first.

"The movie auditions..."

"Oh really, are you interested? You can have my place. I'm really not interested."

And that was my miracle. She only insisted that I must go with her. I thought it was only fair since I would have to explain to my cousin and then handover my position to her. On the day of the audition, I dressed good. My cousin called to remind me to come with a corporate attire. Although I wasn't going to audition anymore, I went with the cloth. We got to the venue which was at a hotel in Owerri. Seeing all those happy and eager faces sent an adrenaline rush into my blood stream. I suddenly wanted to audition but didn't know how to control my speech.

We wrote down our names. The auditioning team introduced themselves. Some of them were popular faces we see in our home videos. They made their introductory speeches and then proceeded to the secluded area where we would individually come to show our skills. My cousin being a part of the team didn't have time to talk with me. He briefly welcomed me, asked if I was hungry and said, "I'm not going to help you. You will compete as everyone else. I won't even call you first. You came late, you will be auditioned late. Do your best."

I was initially taken aback, and then I loved what he said. It made me think of a Nigeria where people are given positions because of their qualification, not their tribe. I quickly introduced my neighbour, he told her to do her best and she would be chosen.

The scripts were shared to everyone. The sentences were poorly constructed, so people couldn't make meaning of them. This contributed to poor performance by a lot of people;  because they didn't understand the sentences, they couldn't project their meaning. Using my skill of writing, I rearranged the sentences. I explained to those around me and we started rehearsing. The advantage of coming late was that I wasn't called up first. That one hour of rehearsing and rehearsing the script calmed me. I began to draw in long and deep breaths to help my speech. After some time, I told myself I was ready. I reminded myself of all those times I've spoken before crowds; this wasn't any different. "Actually, this crowd is small" I said to myself. I'm a beautiful lady and I dressed well on the said day: that added to my confidence. I was however determined to show my skill and not my looks. When it got to my turn, I walked in telling myself I was the best act they would see that day. With a smile, I introduced myself. From previous experiences, I know and understand the power of smiling to your audience. The presentation lasted 40 seconds or less. The first 10, I was nervous and secretly thought that I might still stammer. I guess the smiling helped me more; kinda relaxed me.

I did my presentation. I knew I did it well because I felt good after. I was about to walk out, when they called me back and asked for my details. That only happens for those who they would like to be a part of their movie.

I'm not an actress; I'm not even sure I'll ever be. I'm only happy that I did something new, overcame my fear (of stuttering) and had me a nice experience.

scriptwriter87@gmail.com

Twitter:@club7teen