The Swimming

Good week everyone and tons of apologies for not making the post for the last two weeks. I was in Ghana for a shoot and believe it or not I had no access to the internet. If only I knew what I know now about the blackberry. I’m beginning to see the use of that little gadget more and more everyday that passes by. I don’t know why I’m always the last to embrace new technologies. The problem, I think, is that I do not see the point of buying something just because everyone else is buying it, at least until I begin to see the need for the something in my life. So with hulking grudging reluctance, I humbly submit that I do have need for the blackberry to keep in contact with you my dear readers.

I know you’re expecting news from my first time in Accra, Ghana But sadly there is very little to talk about because I was on set for most of the time. What I can say though is that Ghana is one hot country. It was so hot I had to plan and rehearse what I wanted to do for the day and dash out with the ferocity of a mother hen taking a break from trying to hatch her eggs to forage for food. Oh, just as an aside, did I tell you it was my birthday yesterday? I know, Frieda says it all the time; I love attention so I thank you to keep the belated wishes coming!

The project I worked on was a sort of romantic comedy where I played an egotistical presenter of a popular reality show who was at loggerheads with a female co presenter with an equally inflated ego in the person of Uche Jombo. It was good fun bickering and finding all sorts of subtle insulting words to hurl at each other. The crunch came as the scene where I had to save her from drowning fast approached. You see, I had just given up a vice that I have long struggled with (and no, I am not telling you what vice it was/is? – Mama might read this someday) and as a result began to gain weight at an astronomical rate. It didn’t help that the lady who took care of our welfare was especially fond of me in a mother and son sort of way. She was one of those wonderful women for whom cooking is an expression of love and have a firm idea of how that love should be reciprocated. It was a daily battle to keep my rations as low as possible instead of the terrifying platters that were placed before me at every given opportunity. All my morning rope jumping didn’t seem to have much of an effect in my battle of the bulge.
The day finally came and I put on my shorts but kept my T-shirt on till the very last moment, sucked my tummy in, jumped into the pool and stayed in there until it became absolutely necessary that I came out. My efforts at acting – for which I was paid – took second place to trying to suck my tummy in all through the scene, pretty much like those 40’s to 60’s movies where octogenarian star actors try to be heroes saving damsels in distress. I was supposed to, on leaving the pool, brush aside a cantankerous ‘Uche’, accidentally shove her into the pool, realise that she is drowning, dive in to save her and drag her out of the pool. Now imagine me doing all this while trying to hang on to my dignity. I kept my verbal responses to her tirades at the barest minimum – my lungs had more important interests to protect. I went through all that pain only to realise later that Uche in her BB mania had tweeted a very nice snapshot of our shenanigans which was surreptitiously snapped up by one of the dreaded gossip columnist’s blogsites. I am in trouble! Those spare rolls revealed. The titters! I’m dumping you Frieda; my new girlfriend’s the gym. Until my affair with her is over, you are taking second place! It’s for your benefit anyway considering how much you love ‘it’! Hehehe!

Well you heard it from me first so don’t pay any mind to any stale second hand tales that will be coming your way. Once again, many apologies for the lengthy hiatus. Do have a great week everyone!

The Rat Race

I am sitting in my hotel room at five in the morning trying to meet the deadline of this morning’s post. I’m still shivering from the experience of my last scene which was spent in a swimming pool frolicking with a buxom lass. Loads of fun you might think, and yes it may have been so if one were to take away the fact that the gorgeous lady in the picture had been at work all day long, trundled through the rush hour traffic, take away the fact that mosquitoes armed with straws were stocking up their blood reserves from our unprotected bodies and that I was dreading Nkem’s wrath if I failed to make the deadline for this morning’s post. It was fun in the end for the short while it lasted though. We romped about and I had gleeful fun throwing her in the air and dunking Sylvia in the water getting her wig soaked much to her giggling indignation – it was hers and not the costumier’s. I drove back to the hotel clad in just my wet trunks with Sylvia beside me hoping to be pulled over at the ubiquitous police checkpoints. We both mused over what explanation we’d give them. No she was clothed, anything otherwise would have been stretching it a bit far. Sadly there was none. And now to this week’s topic, which is where I’ll crave your infinite patience. Patience because I want to apologize for my sporadic posting of late because of the work load I have at present. I want to let you know however that this blog and you my readers are foremost on my mind. Chiefly so because I get to air all my views, silly and serious, and also have an audience to share them with, making you invaluable to me. Please indulge my shortcomings. Thanks..

Okay, this one’s on the brighter side of life and not to be taken seriously but then again, who knows? I’d just finished a grueling day’s shoot and was hanging out with my colleagues in camp quite late into the night, past midnight. We were too tired to eat, I hadn’t eaten for the best part of the day. I decided to sit out with them and wind down slowly with idle chat when suddenly a huge rat emerged from a nearby gutter and scurried across the yard.. One of my colleagues, Lizzy, screamed and jumped out of her chair. Everyone began complaining animatedly about the menace of rats in the area and how difficult they were to eradicate; and then it occurred to me in a flash! Grinning mischievously I turned to them and told them I had the perfect solution to end the scourge.

The one thing that brings about scarcity, raises the value of a commodity is good old demand. I asked to them to paint a picture in their minds where there was absolute famine in the land and there was nothing to eat let alone meat. I asked them to then imagine having our little, sorry, huge furry well fed rodents skewered on a spit over an open fire roast, three at a time, all garnished with garlands of red peppers and onion rings and glistening with sizzling dripping oil. Would they be so vile then? Not only would these vermin’s status be raised to desirable, they would disappear in an instant! Why are diamonds so far out of our reach? Because they are desirable. Therefore it follows that the only way a problem, in this case the form of a creature, can be eliminated is by desiring it. Quad erat demonstratum. I probably will be pooh poohed over this unique school of thought but hey, no knowledge is wasted! If nothing else, it is already on record that Kalu has an opinion about something. Ha!

It’s 9am now and my shutters are getting the better of me. I’m going to catch a little nap before I dive into that mad traffic heading home. What to do when I get there: see if there’s anything to eat in the fridge, go to the mechanic’s, fix Betty’s brakes, post this piece, er, what else? Pack my stuff for Wednesday, no, call the cleaning lady, then… I don’t know, I’m going to bed so erm, I guess it’s goodnigh sorry good morning everyone. Have a great week ahead. God, I love it when it gets to this part! Have a great week everyone!