A good week to everybody. It is an absolutely fabulous sunny day here in Texas Like the director on the movie set I’m working on said, “The sun here wan be like Kano own”. Kano is one the desert states in the northern part of my beloved Nigeria. Unfortunately, as is the case with most work environments, there seems to be an overcast message reminding me that I am here to work and not to admire the place. It is a bittersweet experience I’m having at the moment; the frustration of being so near my family members strewn across the state and not being able to see them, and the pleasure of working with an old colleague of mine, the director Ikechukwu Onyeka.
I don’t know why but I detest talking about my work; it makes me feel like I’m shoving my work down people’s throat or like I’m bragging about things I‘ve done or blowing my own trumpet. Come to think of it, where did I learn these values from, the bible or my parents? My father, he was a very hard worker who liked recognition for his work, and extolled his achievements with a frankness and matter of factness unique only to him. My mum on the other hand is someone who craves anonymity like no other person I know. Not even her right hand knows what the left is doing if she can help it. All she’s happy doing is doing her work and being satisfied in the accomplishment thereof. I suppose then that I am a marriage of the two; I work quietly with fierceness and let my work do my bragging for me. Maybe that’s why I work hard to achieve perfection in my work; so I can have something tangible to be remembered for after I am long gone. What I will enjoy talking about, on the movie set I’m working, are the people I’m working with.
I am surrounded by beautiful women and I’m depressed. Yes, I can see everyone except the boys rolling their eyes in exasperation. “Kalu and his numerous tales of women and sex!” You wouldn’t understand. The issue of my interactions with the women in my life goes beyond the carnal path you questionably minded people think I’m probably going. The subject of women in my life, I find, is deeply philosophical especially when they are three or more in the same place at the same time. You have this constellation of jewels around you, each vying for your attention and you dizzy from ogling at their sparkling lights, not knowing which to settle on; one for all and all for one. Instinctively you know that should you settle on one the others instantly turn to harpies, and the one you settle on, what happens after the first nuptial flight? It either instantly dulls into a relationship or you are labeled a bastard – yes my friend, that is most times the way of women. Settle for settling on all flowers and you’ll need to tread not only very carefully, but also to employ the wily services of subterfuge, for in vain does a fowler set a snare in full view of the bird he preys upon. Needless to pray for Heaven’s aid should you be found out. Most importantly, you remember the one back home on whom you depend. The one whom you have known for years, been through thick and thin together, has drunk garri without sugar and groundnuts with you, the one in front of whom you fart freely, entrust with your innermost secrets and tells you the truth as it is, in love and no guile. You think about her and wonder which one of the jewels surrounding you will go that mile with you. Alas, the desperately frustrated poet cried out, cast out at sea, “Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink!” I am surrounded by beautiful women and I am depressed. Have a great week everyone.