End of an Era!

Law School is finally over! When I decided to finally get it over with, I questioned myself a thousand times over, wondering if I made the right decision. But to say it flew by is really an understatement.

Law school exams really are worth the hype! Shit is cray! The difficulty actually stems from the sheer volume of the topics you have to learn in minute detail! Cevil Litigation was the worst! Well actually Corporate is no walk in the park either. To be honest they are all challenging in their own way! I have a month of patiently sitting at the edge of my seat for the results!

Like I have said a million times the best thing about law school are the people. Beautiful, smart and intelligent people. I do not normally like lawyers but hey we are not a bad bunch! Although a simple matter about who gets the last slice can lead to arguing sections of the constitution! And do not even get me started about how bad we are with numbers! Me and Yinka once debated if one tenth is more than 10%!

Now that its over, I actually miss it. Took a bunch of pics so enjoy

xoxo
Miss B

Sleeping in Law School

Hello blogworld,
For those that don't know, classes in law school can be the biggest bore you can ever experience. The classes are usually packed with about 1800 of us with just 20 fans between us. If you are not organised enough to get to class early, which I never was, you have to seat at the back seats which gives you zero visibility and hearing of what's going on. Those that seat at the back rows are called "backbenchers" and all sorts go on.
People talk, eat, listen to music, and watch movies. A guy in Lagos campus was even caught watching porn! However sleeping is the most common thing you find people doing. Here are the pictures I captured over the year of my learning colleagues!

xoxo
Miss B

A Guide to Bar 1!

Hello blogworld,

I hope everyone's doing great. I was reading @Temiville's blog (http://temiville.wordpress.com/) and she mentioned that she's starting Bar 1 in a couple of weeks. I remembered when I was about to start I had a million and one questions for my friends who were writing finals! All foreign students have to do the Bar 1 course in Abuja campus. Unfortunately there's no information on the NLS website which is a shame because people come a wide variety of backgrounds to the shock that is NLS! So here's my mini guide to Bar 1:

Location, Location, Location: Contrary to what you see on the website, NLS is not in Abuja city, its in Bwari which is one of the major 'towns' in FCT. But its really a village. Its about a 30-40 minutes drive from the main city and has absolutely nothing other than Law school. Its mostly made up of people from Jos, Niger, Southern Kaduna, Benue and its indigenous Gwari people. Its majorly an agricultural village with no running water. There isn't a single landmark there other than NLS. I came straight from the airport to Bwari, and trust me its a big shock. So get your minds ready.



Dress Code- Students are only allowed to wear white/black shirts and a skirt for ladies, black trousers and black tie for men with black shoes. They might allow the occasional grey or navy blue. They absolutely do not faff about with the dress code and you are to look 'sober' as a barrister. There are 'marshalls' that stand at the door of the auditoriums where you get lectures who asses if your dressing is acceptable enough to enter class. Loud accessories are not allowed and your hair should always be pulled back. It is not your interest to test these rules because they have been putting people in check for years and will not hesitate to embarrass you at the door and send you back to get changed. They can also seize your badge and give you a query. In bar 1 they are a lot more relaxed, but its better to form the habit of obedience as early as possible. 99% of the time its ladies that get in trouble. To save you humiliation leave your polka dots, stripes, chiffon and ruffled blouses at home. Stick to plain white or black shirts preferably short sleeve but not sleeveless. Zara, HnM, M and S, T.M Lewin, H and C and Dorothey Perkins always have well fitting plain formal wear. A couple of well fitting blazers are a must and jackets for guys.
Everyone tests their luck at some point and even if you get past the marshalls, a lecturer can send you out of class, humiliate you in front of the class or worse put a query in your file. I have a query because I was feeling cool with my new weave and didn't pull it up! The notorious Mrs Adegoke saw me and believe me, its not worth it! You are allowed to wear traditional wear on Friday which is always fun!




Classes- Classes start from 9am till 1am in bar 1. The modules are Criminal, Constitutional, Nigerian Legal System and Nigerian Land Law. For those like me, that didn't take Evidence or Commercial at University, you have to take these extra classes on friday. I know it may not seem so when you start it but Bar 1 is a breeze. You just have to learn a large number of case-law but its generally straightforward. Don't waste your money buying loads of textbooks as the handouts and your class notes are enough. Don't bother reading outside the cirriculum or reading cases in the library. Infact I'll advice you to relax up until a month before the exam! As long you are attending classes you are over half way there. You are supposed to sign attendance everyday which supposedly counts to your final grade, although I doubt it does in Bar 1. Do try to participate in class, group work and make at least one presentation.





Accommodation: NLS provides accommodation on campus for all students. Its divided into blocks for boys and girls. Each room houses 2 people and you share a bathroom and toilet with the adjacent room. The four of you make up a flat. You need drums for storing water and buckets for bathing as the water hardly ever runs. There have been loads of complaints over the issue to management and theories as to why it doesn't run. Some say its to make money for the women who fetch water or cause its too expensive to pump. You'll get used to it.
For people like me that never went to boarding school I learnt A LOT about conserving water as it seems cheap at first but the bills start to add up!
Each room has a 'helper' or as they call it 'your person' who fetches water for you each morning from the pump. Some people fetch the water themselves and save themselves the N50 per bowl. Me and my roomie averaged about 400 per day on water. The helpers also clean, do laundry and random errands for a fee. They are usually really sweet women but you must not let them overcharge you because you are a 'butter'!
The hostels usually have a saloon or resturant in each block and a common room with a t.v.
Unlike Jand where you can live in the same apartment with guys, guys are not allowed to enter female hostels except to the common room, and they have to leave by 8pm. Same goes for girls although the male hostels are a lot more lenient.

Its actually very secure, and we never ever had an incident of theft. There were some allegations in the boys hostels but in mine we got really comfortable. We would leave our doors open and go out for hours without any fear. Contrary to what you might presume the staff do not steal, any theft would probably by a student. You are meant to submit your key to reception when you leave your room to avoid any issues.

There's a large list of electrical items you are not allowed to bring in. When I first came I brought a mini fridge but this isn't allowed although you can keep it in the common room and lock it up. No toasters, mini grills, t.v, rice cookers etc but people do sneak them in. Just hope it doesn't trip the power because then everyone will have your head!!
Electricity, like in every part of Nigeria can be epileptic in Bwari. The generators are turned on from 6pm till 1am which is very decent. They are also usually turned on when we are in class.
When its rainy season, (which is the time Bar 1 will be starting) living on the ground floor can be a nightmare as the floor is constantly wet, however the ground floor always has electricity when the other floors don't. I actually prefer the ground floor though a lot of people don't. You can also live off campus with some people commuting everyday from Abuja town. This is do-able in Bar 1 as classes finish early. There are 2 hotels opposite the school which some people lodge at. But these are expensive options and require a car.
Hostel life is A LOT of fun! There's always something going on, and I've made some really great friends. As this was my first hostel experience I think anyone with an open mind will be able to adapt easily.





Geographics- For those that have never lived in Abuja, it is HOT. Bwari is a 10minute ride from hell in the dry season. The heat is hard to describe but it usually feels like the sun is right on stop of your head frying your brain. You will get a couple of shades darker, guaranteed. The rains can also be quite heavy. Harmattan is the worst season because its freezing cold in the morning and hot as hell in the afternoon. Its dusty and dry and an enemy of supple skin.
The roads of law school are not tarred and are usually dry and dusty. So leave your suede shoes at home. As a matter of fact leave any nice shoes you have at home as they will always look wretched.
A unique thing about law school is the variety of 'wildlife'. I have never seen so many species of insects as I did in NLS.
I found it very difficult to sleep because the staff kept chickens, turkey, Guinea fowls etc and they were so noisy at all hours. Some nights I would go out and throw rocks and water at them. There were so many of us complaining that they eventually took action.

There were also 2 incidents of the guards killing snakes within the hostels. This is another disadvantage of living on the ground floor. NLS is very rural living.






Food- This is a major issue when you first get to Bwari. Take some Pepto-Bismol along as most people's stomach get upset the first couple of weeks. On campus there's 'mami market' which consists of canteens by different women. They serve nigerian dishes in the afternoon and night. There's also a suya guy, 2 guys dt sell sharwarma and chicken+chips, indomie lady, a lady that sells fried foods, 2 women that sell fruits and general provision stores. There's variety but it quickly gets very boring. Its very affordable but any dreams of dessert for a sweet tooth like mine requires a journey into town. Surprisingly a large number of people put on weight when on campus. This is usually because you sit all day in class, have a heavy lunch, have an afternoon nap and then have dinner shortly before bed. You have to learn to exercise if you don't want to gain weight. There's an aerobics class in the mornings and evenings and a large number of us jog. There's a gym, football pitch, basketball and tennis court and a swimming pool in the hotel opposite so there's really no excuse!
Most people grow to enjoy the food and I would recommend Ali's indomie and suya!





Extra-Cirricular Activities- There are several charity organisations on campus. I was the vice president of the Sickle Cell Aid Foundation (SCAF) so I'll obviously encourage you all to join that ;-). I'll do a seperate post on that soon. I also helped out with Bwari Child Foundation which is another that helps children within Bwari. We usually organise events to raise money which is used to carry out the help in the community. It was great fun and my SCAF team became my family. We organised bonfires, parties, valentines auction and a talent show and the support was overwhelming.
There are usually no parties allowed on campus without written permission from student affairs. So we would go this bar opposite school called "La Liga" on thursdays. There's a point and kill bar as well as hotel bars. Weekends were usually spent in Abuja town. If you enjoy drinking, you'll have to learn how to sneak them in as alcohol is not allowed on campus, even when we have events!
There's a compulsary law dinner although we didn't have one in bar 1! In summary there's no social life in NLS but as with everything come with a very open mind.





The best advice I can give any Bar 1 student is that NLS is a lesson in humility. Every initial gra gra you come with will be fraustrated out of you. So just obey the rules, be respectul of the staff and the values of the institution and you'll have an amazing experience. I have had a fabulous time in NLS and the best part is definitely the people.

xoxo
Miss B.

BADA Air

Anita Agba heard the speakers call for her flight to board just as she rushed into Nnamdi Azikiwe airport domestic wing, at exactly 10.50am. She had been so scared she would be unable to make it in time and had fought with the old taxi driver that drove her, because he staunchly refused to speed through traffic.

 
  Anita tried everything: she promised to double his fare, swore to call him as transport on her return from Lagos; she checked her time incessantly and gave exaggerated sighs every time he let someone cut in front of him. All methods proved ineffective. He said “Better to be safe than sorry" and then proceeded to ignore her completely for the rest of the journey. But she was here despite his rule abiding speedometer and it was all up to her aching feet to race through security then run a marathon to the waiting aircraft.

Lugging her over-stuffed wobbly trolley behind her Anita cursed Olamide; her friend turned newlywed for throwing such an awesome reception. If the bride hadn’t been so willing to party or the DJ so on point with the tunes, she wouldn’t have spent the whole night dancing away instead of getting some much needed sleep.

If that had happened, she would not have overslept and gotten herself into this messy situation. “Olamide, I curse you.” Anita muttered under her breath as she proceeded to lift her heavy suitcase and place it on the X-ray belt. “I curse your wonderfully comfy bed in the Hilton and the Honeymoon suite you spent the night in. I curse the breakfast that awaits you when you get up and I curse your husband that will rub your feet when you ask him to.”

Anita gingerly removed her feet from her wedges, placing the chunky cork heels on the belt as well so they could be x-rayed. She muttered a silent curse too, for the underwear bomber for this inconvenience. After a disinterested female security officer frisked her, Anita grabbed her suitcase and with her shoe-straps still undone, started to run towards her check-in gate. She arrived before the BADA Airlines desk with one hand holding onto her Ankara wrap dress, to find that she was the only one panting, sweating and flustered.

Everyone was calm, chatting away and they all took a minute out of their day to stare at her. And the hot mess she was. Three hours of sleep after a night of partying in the hottest club, with the happiest bride and her entourage lends a certain look to someone. A look they obviously did not approve of. As far as they were concerned the dishevelled lady had no business being outside looking the way she did. Anita was inclined to agree. The announcement was repeated over the speakers once more and this time Anita was relaxed enough to listen to its entirety.Her flight had been delayed for an hour.

 “Oh” she heaved a sigh of relief. Her free hand wiped her damp brow. “WE are here to complain about the delay” said a woman carrying a baby. “But it appears you owe BADA airlines your gratitude.” Anita gave the woman and her baby a “mind your business” smile. Usually such looks were accompanied with the exact meaning in words but she had suddenly remembered her online ticket was yet to be printed out.
Anita eyed the sign that indicated the ladies room. She badly needed to get in there and fix her hopeless situation.
 On a second thought, it was probably best she not tempt luck once more and forgo vanity in name of printing out her online ticket. She had the reference number on her phone; she rummaged through her bag and unearthed her Blackberry. Knowing the amount of messages- both read and unread- lined up awaiting her attention, Anita thought it best to commence the search in a manner much kinder to her feet... and her throat.
The last thing she had to drink had been a glass of champagne at around 3.00am when the Best Man led the bridal party in a toast. Well, there was a day old half bottle of water in her bag and an empty seat next to a magazine rack so thanking God for her luck she walked towards it a determined woman. “From henceforth I am taking charge of my day”, she decided. A light stumble and Anita remembered her straps were undone. She rolled her eyes and changed her tune. “Once I sit down, I am taking charge of my day”.

Anita sat on the metal chair but for fatigued legs it felt like lounging on a cloud. Bending over she did up her straps when a shadow blocked her light. She looked up with her hands around her ankles and saw a tall dark man in reading glasses. He said, “You are in my seat.” “Oh I’m sorry” said Anita. It figures, there were magazines on the chair when she arrived. As she tried to gather her things her Blackberry fell to the floor. Her quirky Popeye cover snapped off and the battery came out. Shocked Anita leaned down, forgetting the open bottle of water in her hand. It poured out and splashed on the floor, soaking the Blackberry. “Ahh” Anita shrieked. A part of her just died. This was her third Blackberry in six months.

The tall man bent to help gather her phone parts scattered all over the airport floor, as he sympathised.

“Fuck My Life” Anita swore as she dragged her hands down her face and pulled on her cheeks.

 “Sorry about that. Now I feel responsible.”

The man looked up from his position on one knee and stared at her. He was lean, with a long face and had very toned arms. He wore a loosely fitting kaftan shirt and from this angle Anita could see his chest. As well as the thin line of hair that led down to his navel. Gesturing her to open her palm, he deposited the pieces of her life line.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He apologised. He wasn’t bad looking. Far from it. Very far from it. “No, no it’s not your fault” Anita whispered. “It’s me. I’m kind of clumsy. And disorganised. And scatter-brained.” She sighed and looked at the ceiling. She didn’t want to cry.
 The man looked concerned. “Is anything the matter?” He asked standing to his full height. He was tall.
“It’s just been one of those mornings you know.” Anita shrugged her shoulders. She looked up to face him, “I should have just taken Monday off. Then I wouldn’t be so frazzled and in a haste to get back to Lagos.”
“I’m sure I’ll be the same once I arrive in Lagos.” He tried to show her he was a kindred spirit. And took the seat vacated by the elderly man opposite her. “I’m booked on the red-eye flight back to Abuja you see.” “Why the short journey?” “Some very important papers need to be signed, and then brought back to Abuja to be stamped. And guess who is in charge of that?”
“You?”
 “That’s right. Me.” He puffed out his chest
 “I am a very important person you see,” he folded his arms and smiled. Anita laughed.
“It’s an awfully long journey for a signature. Surely a person as important as yourself has heard of technology.”
She lifted up a piece of her Blackberry as evidence. “Oh but I have. I built my career, Engineering, on it. Unfortunately when you’re dealing with old men, in positions of prestige they prefer things to be done the old fashioned way. A way in which they’re comfortable in. Some people need to be brought into the 21st century kicking and screaming.”
“Yes,” Anita agreed. “No one ever likes change, unless it’s in fashion. That’s my very important job you see. I work in a fashion house.”
 “Well no grumpy old men there.”
“Certainly not.” She pressed the wet screen of her phone against her dress.
“You know I heard that putting the phone into a bowl of rice helps to absorb the moisture,” he gestured to her fervent wiping.
 “I personally can vouch for garri. It helps to soak up the water contained in the smallest parts of the phone. My Blackberry, the one before the last- Its Grandfather- fell in the toilet and that was the method I used. It worked...for a while.”
 “You go through a lot of Blackberrys...”
“They are important for staying relevant in my social circle.”
“I think they are completely useless and can’t understand why everyone that can afford one rushes to get it.” He made this declaration with such a serious tone that Anita burst out laughing,
“Please tell me what you really think.” She urged.
He looked at her and after some thought brought his hand forward. “My name is Malik,” he said.
“Anita” she responded.
 They shook hands. Malik took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had given up on wearing contact lenses when he nearly lost an eye putting one in. “
We have to fix that phone” he declared. “I don’t want you thinking I did this on purpose because I believe in death to all Blackberrys.”
“So you are an extremist?” Anita asked with a smile.
“Ah I have been called much worse Anita.” She liked how he said her name. It sounded exotic when pronounced with a Northern accent.
The announcement of another boarding flight by a different airline reminded Anita that she still hadn’t printed out her ticket and now with no phone, she had no reference number.
 “What is it?” asked Malik “I need my phone to get my reference number so I can print my ticket, to get my boarding pass so I can get on the fli-”
“I get it” Malik stopped her.
“I can help. My friend is a manager at BADA; we could use his office to get your reference number. He will print your ticket for you.
“Thank you so much.”
 “I am here to serve Anita.” He gave a slight bow. “Why are you smiling Anita?”
“You say my name a lot.”
 “Well I’ve never met anyone called Anita before. It is a very unique name I must say.” Malik picked up her luggage and they began to walk together.
“Err... I don’t think so” Anita scrunched her nose up. “My mother was really into Anita Baker back then and she decided to punish her only child with her taste in music.”
“Well Anita, I like it. So I will say it very often throughout our time together. Who knows when next I will get to say it again? Anita. Anita. Anita...”
 “Okay then Malik. Tell us about your name.”
“It is very special. Just like me.” He raised an eyebrow, “Are you buying that?”
“Every word.” She assured him. “It is one of the 99 names of Allah, and it means Master. That is why; Abdul is in front of it. So it translates to servant of the Master.
“Well I didn’t know that.” Malik stopped and smiled. They had reached the office of BADA Airlines and he was explaining their reason of calling to the man outside the door. He gestured them both in.
“Sorry about your phone,” he said when Anita slipped past. Malik rounded a large desk to stop at a smaller one with a lanky man in a polo shirt and jeans working on the computer. If he had to be at work on Sunday he would certainly dress like it. He typed with two fingers and looked very put out by the machine. His face was twisted and he appeared to be swearing at it.
“Abbas I need a favour,” said Malik.
“Surprise Surprise” he muttered.
“Please it’s for her.”
With that Abbas looked up and stared at Anita. He turned to Malik and a telepathic conversation passed between the two men.
“Sure no problem,” agreed Abbas cheerfully. He gave Anita a look at his dental work by flashing her the widest grin she had ever seen.
“You will excuse my earlier behaviour” he apologised.
“Abbas is always on edge when he’s working with computers.” Explained Malik
“They are the work of Shaytan.”
“They are computers.” Said Malik
“That’s what I said.” Replied an innocent faced Abbas.
 He walked around to a larger desk that they had passed on their way in and rummaged in its drawers for files and flight lists. He walked up to Anita and requested her driver’s license. She reached into her bag for her wallet.
“Ah you have my mother’s birthday,” said Abbas, with a laugh as he glanced over it.
“Just go print out her ticket” barked Malik.
 “I’m going, I’m going... You don’t have to stand at attention with me Malik.” Abbas rolled his eyes at Anita. “You can take the boy out of military school... but you” then he disappeared out the door.
Anita sat on a swivel chair. Her dancing feet were yet to recover from dancing for 5 hours straight.
Malik saw her wincing and pulled up a chair beside her.
“You went to military school?” she asked. Malik had very kind eyes.
“Yes I did. It’s sort of the family profession. My three older brothers are all in the Military.”
“Wow what was the inspiration?”
 “My father. He is a retired General.”
 “And how did he feel about you dropping out to become an Engineer?”
 “That is a very insightful question Anita. Let’s just say he wasn’t pleased and leave it at that.”
“Well there are worse things.”
 “Not a very long list where he is concerned. My father has dedicated his life to that of service. The way he sees it, they are fewer grounds for honour. You see the root of our family tree, the very foundation of who we are as a clan- is steeped in men who served in battle. I have ancestors that fought alongside Usman Dan Fodio in the 18th Century during the formation of the Sokoto Caliphate. I have Great Uncles that fought in the Civil War in 1967. Presently, I have cousins stationed in Iraq.”
 “Ahh” Anita understood. “Anything less than a uniform demanding your loyalty and obedience is tantamount to traitor.”
“Yes Anita. That is correct.” Malik smiled, glad she understood.
“But you must live your life as you see fit. As long as you recite the National Anthem and mean every word. You are a patriot.” Anita defended him.
 Malik smiled and leaned forward, “that is very kind Anita. I daresay you could go toe to toe with General Gwandu and hold your own.” He was very close to her now, and Anita stared at the floor to break the tension
“Well I might have the looks of my Benin mother but it hides the temperament of my Yoruba father. Guess who I get along with the most?”
 “A daddy’s girl true and true,” responded Malik.
“Absolutely. Do you get along with your mother?”
“Very much so, she is as gentle as a stream. Water that can transform into a tsunami should you take liberties.” Malik laughed at some recalled memory. “She owns a few dye pits on the outskirts of town.”
“A woman of fashion! We would get along brilliantly.” Anita sparkled “I believe you would.”
Malik agreed. Anita had raised her head back to level with his and she involuntarily mirrored his smile. He was so cute. His lips were like puppeteers to hers. And the wider his grin got the brighter her smile shone. It took guts to go against the grain like that and carve a path for oneself. She admired that. It was also obvious that Malik loved entrepreneurial women, thanks to his mother. That was also an endearing quality. Anita wondered what it must be like to kiss a guy with glasses. Would her pleasurable sighs fog up his lenses? She wondered if his neatly trimmed beard would tickle her fair skin. She wondered if he was at all wondering any of these things.
“All done my dearest Anita. You may thank me in any form you like.” Abbas entered into his office.
Anita and Malik simultaneously shifted their chairs further back. Malik stood up from his seat and walked away from her to shake Abbas’s hand. Whatever he said or promised to do in order to show his appreciation made the latter beam with delight. Abbas handed her a ticket and informed her that she had been given the window seat. Anita thanked him profusely and noticed that her one hour of grace must be up.
“I really have to get going. Thank you both so much.”
 “I’ll help you with your luggage,” offered Malik as he effortlessly lifted it from the ground.
“Come back here anytime” invited Abbas.
“You know my office now, so don’t be a stranger.”
“We should get going” insisted Malik.
“Thank you for flying BADA Airlines” shouted Abbas as the door to his office was shut.
 Malik stayed with Anita as she checked in her suitcase, he waited while she received her boarding ticket. At last, Anita had the presence of mind to be embarrassed by the state she was in and turned red-faced to inform Malik that she would need to go freshen up in the rest-room.
“But there’s nothing wrong with you,” said Malik confused as he stared at her from head to feet.
She looked exactly as she had the first time, when he spied her bent over doing up her shoes. Her legs were stunning and her knee-length dress gave him ample opportunity to ogle them. There was also a fair amount of glitter on her skin which made the sun rays bounce off and colour her in a glowing orb. She looked like a force of energy. Her hair was curly and it fell over her shoulders obscuring her face from view, and as he walked towards her Malik had thought at least before he kicked her out of his seat he could see if the face lived up to the body.
Anita seemingly was unaware of the force of energy that was herself and insisted that she needed to fix ‘this mess,’ before getting on the plane. She went in and came out 15 minutes later looking exactly the same. Not that she seemed to think so.
“Isn’t this better?” asked Anita as she ran a hand over her hair and smiled at him with glossy lips.
“You look exactly the same” said Malik
“Ah you appear to really mean it. Now I don’t know if that is a compliment or an insult.”
 “It’s the truth, but I’ll convince you of that later Anita. That is the final boarding call of our flight.”
 They raced towards their boarding gate and giggled as the climbed into the shuttle bus that was to transport all passengers to the Boeing 747.
“I can’t believe I made it,” gasped Anita slightly out of breath and clutching her chest.
“Neither can I,” agreed Malik, earning himself a jab in the ribs.
“I have redeemed myself then. The phone matter is all forgotten?”
 “I’ll worry more about that when we land. I am not new to this. An hour or two in a bowl of garri and it should be rearing to go. The screen will be a little cracked but I can live with that.
My phone will be up and running by this afternoon.”
 “And will you give me your PIN when it is?" “I thought you hated Blackberrys.”
 “I do. But you love them. So a choice must be made. You know some people have to be dragged into the 21st century kicking and screaming.”
 “They most certainly do” agreed Anita blushing as she did so. She turned away to look out the window. The bus had slowed in front of the aircraft and together they got out and began to ascend the metal stairs. The waiting air hostess showed them both to their seats; at opposite ends of the aircraft.
Anita turned to look at Malik, “I guess this is goodbye then” she said.
“No its not,” said Malik determinedly. “We will like to be seated together.”
“It’s a fully booked flight” droned the air hostess. She was supposed to be in Lagos, blowing out the candles on her birthday cake while her boyfriend took pictures and plastered her in kisses. She was very late for her own party. She didn’t have time for this.
“I can appreciate that,” said Malik, “But I want to sit next to Anita.” The air-hostess could not be bothered either way. There was a queue of impatient passengers waiting to board and the man with the glasses seemed comfortable keeping them all waiting. Further delaying the flight and more importantly, further delaying her grand entrance into the not-so-surprise birthday party. She requested the ticket from the elderly man behind the ‘love-birds.’
“Will you like to be bumped to first class sir?” She asked.
“I would love that. Better circulation for my legs...” “Very well this young man has offered you his seat.”
 She promptly swapped their boarding passes, and carried on seating the rest of the angry mob. Without a word Anita watched as Malik squeezed his lengthy frame between passengers, ducking to avoid the overhead compartments, till he arrived at his new seat, close to the toilets. “The window seat, as promised by Abbas,” he gestured for Anita to go in first.
Malik sat down and fastened his seat belt. He tucked his long legs underneath his chair and turning to her said, “So what kind of music do you like?”
Anita didn’t know how to explain to him that he had just greatly inconvenienced himself on her behalf. She felt like she owed it to him to be interesting. “Alternative Indie Rock.”
 “Is there such a thing?”
 “I don’t know I just made it up”
“Why would you do that Anita?”
 “I am not very interesting Malik. Really! Just a run of the mill girl that likes RnB, and shoes and playing dress-up and chocolate and sparkly things and The Notebook...”
 “I admire your efficiency Anita. We have covered music, movies, interests and desserts.” Anita raised an eyebrow then laughed. Malik opened his palms and spoke,
“I am a run of the mill guy that likes rap music and cars and video games and Mafia movies like Scarface and The Godfather and cannot cook to save his life...”
“So basically we are both cardboard cut-outs living out the stereotypes attached to our genders.”
“Yes. Nothing remarkable here.” Malik was so wrong. And they both knew it.
 The turbo engines growled and roared to life and the pilot announced they were taking off. The plane coasted around for a few seconds, then taxied off the runway and within a few minutes they were in the sky. Anita tried to swallow through the hollow sound; this part always made her ears vibrate. She massaged her temple and tried to force spit down her throat, anything to disrupt the ringing in her skull. Malik brought out a pack of Wrigley’s chewing gum and Anita gladly accepted. Soon the taste returned to her mouth.
“Always prepared soldier,” said Anita once the noise died down enough for her to be heard.
“That’s the motto of the military” joked Malik
The airplane began to coast and soon Anita relaxed enough in Malik’s company to snuggle down in her seat and turn to him fully. The shutter on her window was lowered because as much as she loved the scenery, the sunlight interrupted her view of his face. Not that Malik seemed to mind the light directly in his eyes, he had those lenses that darkened when exposed to light.
“That was 5years ago,” said Anita aghast.
“You have to try contacts again; they have evolved so much since then.”
“What’s wrong with my glasses?”
 “Nothing.” Absolutely nothing. “But it is always good to have options...”
“If your manner and method is the most proficient then options are a waste of valuable ideas.”
“No idea formed can ever be considered wastage. Because it is always specific to the parameters it must operate in. Just like energy, it is transferred but never lost.”
Malik stared at Anita admiringly. The glitter on her skin pulsed quietly and she radiated brighter than the rays of sunshine cast on her from neighbouring windows. And she, as it turns out, is an expert on Energy.
 “What does your father do Anita?” asked Malik suddenly.
“That is a very insightful question Malik,” said Anita, mimicking his tone from earlier in Abbas’s office. “He is a Professor of Physics in Unilag.”
 Malik chuckled softly. Of course he was.
“Now Anita you must convince me why you, a Daddy’s Girl, chose not to follow in a similar field at University.”
 “Why pay for tuition when I get the lessons for free?” she inquired playfully.
“I consider myself an honorary physicist, by birth anyway.”
 “I see! You became an expert by osmosis.”
 “Absolutely! You know when I was younger my dad would take me out and tell me to count the amount of forces at play. So I would point to the sky and yell, “Gravity,” and a nearby body of water and say, “Magnetic Field,” and so on.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Don’t tease. It was”
They had been in the air for about 45 minutes and the pilot had announced they were just hovering over Lagos. Time seemed to literarily fly as conversation flowed effortlessly between them.
 “Would you excuse me Anita? I need to stretch my legs for a bit.”
Malik unpacked his long legs from where they had been folded beneath his chair and stood with a comical grimace of pain in Anita’s direction. Malik walked off towards the front of the aircraft.
“I am coming back for you.” said Malik. Those were the last words he would ever say.
Anita watched him walk away and then she looked around. She locked eyes with the woman from earlier at the check-in gate. The two exchanged a smile, they were friends now.
“Better late than never. At least we are almost home" The mother smiled. She cuddled her baby. It was a girl. Anita was going to nod and agree when the airplane suddenly began to rattle like a tin can in a gust of wind.
“Turbulence!” shouted one passenger.
“Which yeye turbulence? There isn’t a dark cloud in the sky,” responded another.
"What is happening? Somebody tell us something.” was cried out from every seat and passengers began to get agitated. Choruses of worry, anxiety and reverent prayer began to fill her cabin. Anita got extremely scared. She looked out her window and saw one of the wings trail a cloud of smoke behind it. The rotating fan within it had caught fire. Her breathing began to get laboured and her heart beat as loud as the radiating wings. She looked around her and saw that everyone else had scrambled to window seats to take a look. They all began to scream. It was a deafening sound.
The pilot came on the radio and said "Ladies and gentlemen, we have severe technical issues with the aircraft, please put yourself in the brace position for emergency landing" His American accent twisted around his prognosis like the puffs of smoke that stained the otherwise blue sky. It was a beautiful day. The night was also to be very beautiful, but none of them on board- passengers and crew- would live to see it.
 Anita stared at the woman and watched her kiss her baby girl and clutch her to her chest. She would die like that. Anita began to cry, she wasn’t ready to meet God. She couldn’t die now, she hadn’t yet lived. She hadn’t built her career, she hadn’t bought her own apartment, and she hadn’t fallen in love... She looked around for Malik and saw his tall frame trying to make his way back to her amongst the mayhem.
He would not make it.

He battled his way through a throng of agitated passengers some of whom were considering forcefully opening the EXIT doors to escape. Not realising that that force of wind at this height would fling them all out like rag dolls in a tornado. Malik had also lost his glasses so could barely make out Anita.

The plane shook some more and then began to nose-dive. It tilted forward sharply and suddenly. All the passengers, most of whom were out of their seats were propelled forward and they began to crash into one another. Shoes hit faces, elbows jammed into stomachs, the grunts and sounds of pains filled the entire cabin. It was a sound that would stay with Anita till her last moments. The oxygen masks fell from the ceilings, but they would be of no help to anyone here. Nor would the life-rafts. The overhead compartments opened up and dropped their contents onto the un-suspecting passengers. Hand luggage and hastily bubble wrapped sacks crashed onto their heads. There was blood everywhere. People were screaming even louder. The left wing engine next to Anita exploded with a loud bang.

The aircraft tilted sharply to the right and Malik slanted his eyes and saw Anita get slammed against the seat-rest in front of her, causing her to die instantly. The second engine unable to bear the un-assisted weight gave out with a loud whistle and the plane began to nose-dive. The airplane reached the end of its 25,000 feet descent. It crashed into the ground and exploded, the fire starting from the pilot’s bunker and spreading through the entire aircraft. Within seconds, the BADA MD-83 plane was engulfed in flames.

There were no survivors.

All Malik could think about as he choked on his own blood and inhaled smoke was that he never got Anita's pin.

Xoxo
Miss B and SB

Lagos Owambes

Hello blog world,


This post is part of my Lagos series. Every Nigerian knows that Yoruba people, especially Lagosians, are famous for their love of parties and having a good time. My yoruba side means that I love to party too.



My few weeks in Lagos has made me realise that partying is an art and I have a lot to learn. People take throwing of parties very seriously here with everyone desperately trying to out do each other. Guests come to assess how 'big' the event was and speculate on how much money was spent. None of the parties I have been to in Abuja or Kaduna even begin to compare. Although owambes I have been to in America are just as lavish, if not more (Maryland is the worst)!

Lagosians celebrate everything large. Birthdays, funerals, anniversaries, house warming, promotion, communion, thanksgiving etc. I even went for an introduction that was bigger than an average wedding! Any event that in England would simply require opening a bottle of wine and toasting, turns into a circus. There are events every single weekend.



I have been out every weekend since I've been here. The best part is the discovery of this phenomenon called "small chops". I am addicted.

For my unaware Northerners, small chops is a concept that serves little fried snacks either as a starter or after the main meal. It usually consists of spring rolls, samosas, prawns, little fish in batter, masa, which is little plantains fried in batter, fried meats, gizzard, grilled chicken and the almighty puff puff.

Can I just say that no one does puff puff quite like Lagosians! There's this woman who fries puff puff down my street and she's now my best friend!



Generally the food at all the parties I have been to has been unbelievably amazing. I wonder why I have not gained weight! Its also always excessive. And the drinks just keep coming.

So here are the typical things you see at a Lagos Owambe:



1) Location, Location, Location- This really determines how 'posh' your event is. Until you live in Lagos, you do not quite understand the island/mainland divide. The 'island' is supposed to be where its at, so ideally you want your event to be in Ikoyi, Lekki, Victoria Island etc so this will be the equivalent of living in Chelsea etc, The mainland is also divided, so the posh bits are Ikeja GRA, Magodo, Apapa etc Some people that live on the island claim never to venture to the mainland unless they are going to the airport. My friend has even suggested that people on the mainland should get passes to come to the island so trust me when I say it gets very deep!



2) Beautiful People- Lagosians do NOT play with looking good. There's also no age limit on looking good, infact the mummies always go harder. Their geles, professional make-up, beautiful hair, and bling bling! They are usually always dressed in beautiful aso-ebi, with each woman sewing a unique style. Even the men always look daper. Everyone is always on trend.



3) Live Bands- Every Lagos event I have been to has had an amazing live band. I have always loved live music anyway but it would be hard for anyone not to love these. At yoruba events they belt out classics to talking drums and wash you until you have sprayed them with every penny you came with. There are always money changers around to give you mint notes in smaller denominations. They get everyone dancing and in a great mood and serve as an ego boost. There is also usually a d.j and a host/comedian so you are basically getting a free show.



4) Food- As mentioned earlier, the food is always on point. A typical example is my great-aunt's 80th birthday party last weekend. On seating you are given a choice of African food or chinese, you also get a cocktails menu. Then comes the small chops, little desserts such as mini cheesecakes, tiramasu, ice-cream, cookies etc. Then comes cupcakes and the birthday cake. All the while waiters are walking by with chapman and champagne begging you to drink. Its really a foodie's heaven!



5) Gifts- You have not gone for an owambe if you don't come back with a gift. There is nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing that can't be given as a gift. You get the standard notebooks, bowls pens, handfans etc But I have also gotten salt, corkscrews, soaps, detergent, vests, vases, nail cutter, towels and recharge cards. At an uncle's party they gave everyone a bottle of Hennesy! And it was his mum's burial!! Apparently some people even give out phones and ipads, this I am yet to see but anything is possible in Nigeria!







I have loved going out in Lagos as Lagosians have an amazing spirit. When they party, they party hard, and I think they deserve it as life here can be extremely tough and challenging. They work very hard, and are constantly on their grind, but when they party they let go of every worry. I can never forget this petrol attendant that was dancing azonto while filling my tank, with the biggest smile on his face like he had no worry in the world.



Its a great way to live.



Xoxo

Miss B.

A Day Of Mourning

Yesterday, my mum and two brothers were on a flight to Abuja around 4pm. Around the same time I saw blackberry updates about a DANA plane crash somewhere in Lagos killing all passengers on board, and I had a mild heart attack. I couldn't breathe properly until they had all gotten home safely. I also had two friends who were supposed to be flying from Abuja yesterday, one who's exact name was on the flight, but fortunately couldn't make their flights.




Unfortunately, a lot of people have not been as lucky as I have and will be having the worst 24 hours of their lives. That moment you hear someone you love has died are indescribable.

As much as I am glad none of my family or close friends were involved, we are all connected in Nigeria so it is a loss to each and everyone of us. Lo and behold as the names started rolling out we started discovering that 6 degrees of separation.

My friend lost his older brother. Another friend lost her uncle and his son.

A friend lost 2 of his cousins.

Another lost her father.

A friend's father just missed the flight.

Even though I didn't know these people personally I am incredibly burdened by this because it could have easily been me having the worst day of my life.



In Nigeria we hear of unnecessary deaths everyday due to negligence. Bad roads kill, incompetent drivers kill, armed robbers, Boko Haram and insecurity kill, failed healthcare system, corruption and mismanagement kill. We have almost become desensitized to news of death, as a bunch of people were killed in Bauchi yesterday by a bomb.



@tejucole said "Bad things can happen anywhere. Fate is cruel. But in Nigeria, corruption, carelessness, and lack of professionalism do fate's cruel work. Cutting corners, praying, ignoring statistics and science, giving thanks for narrow escapes. It's no way to live."



I couldn't have put it any better. I really wonder how much more we as individuals and as a nation can take. A friend said a woman who lost her father in the Sosoliso crash also lost her husband yesterday in this crash. I cannot even begin to fathom the trauma she'll be going through.



At some point Nigerians will have to realise that this attitude of prayer is holding us back. When things like this happen we are consoled by being asked to pray. But what exactly are we praying for? That it doesn't happen again? But as surely as day comes after night, we know it will happen again.

Dele Momodou everyday on twitter asks us to pray for God to teach our leaders how to save Nigeria. I don't think Nigerian leaders or Nigeria as a whole deserve any of my prayers. We have not made any positive steps to solving any of the problems we have been going on about for the past 52 years.



Nigeria and Nigerians baffle me daily. President Jonathan has declared 3 days of mourning but I am sure he realises that we mourn everyday here. His failure as a leader is enough to declare a permanent state of mourning.



The worst part about it is that we will talk about it for a few days. But very soon we will get on with our lives, we will forget and no one will be held accountable. On Discovery channel they have documentaries trying to figure out why planes crashed or ships sank 40 years ago. Nigerians have no such perseverance. Only those that lost their loved ones will never be able to move on.



In a way, we deserve the calamity that has befallen us.





May Allah rest the souls of those lost in peace and grant them Alijanah. May Allah give their loved ones the strength to bear the loss. And more importantly may Allah save us from ourselves.



Xoxo

Miss B