Right in the Middle!

A good week to everybody and an even greater start to a new month to all. To all, I say, because I feel rather excluded from the group right now. I have little to write this week because the little that was there before has been pushed to a far corner somewhere in the back of my head because of that person that calls herself my girlfriend. Does it make sense that someone would travel in the middle of a blizzard to New York of all places and not deem it fit to let one know she’s safely arrived and is warmly ensconced between sheet and duvet?

What haven’t I sent? Text and BB messages, and calls which actually go through to the very annoying mechanical voice message asking me to leave yet another bloody message! How many more should I leave before it makes any effing difference? I swear, the worst place to be in anything at all is to be in the middle, not knowing where you stand. Isn’t that what got the traveller in trouble with the satyr in Aesop’s fables, blowing his freezing hands warm and his hot porridge cool with the same breath? Probably why God hinted that He’d rather we belong to the extremities of heat or cold rather than be trapped in the wilderness of the lukewarm. Two possibilities are raging in my head.

The first, she could be in trouble. Oh, that she landed safely I am in no doubt; she, to my relief sent me a text informing she’d finally landed in NY after hours and hours of delay owing to an impending blizzard. After that her tracks went cold save for the little relief provided by the comforting ringing of her mobile phone. My mind is solely, well partly on that road from the airport to her hotel and the haunting possibility that anything could happen from accidents to breakdowns and being trapped and frozen, to falling prey to those sinister predators lurking under their favourite shroud; cold and darkness. It doesn’t help that I am currently reading Paul Young’s The Shack , a book about a man coping with the murder of his six year old daughter by a serial killer.

The second is the hopeful possibility that (too angry to even call her name) is simply too irresponsible to understand the need to inform loved ones waiting with bated breath for news of her safe arrival so I can give her a treatment worse than that blizzard she’s running from! This is the same person that almost took my ear off right in the middle of the night worrying about her hotel booking and flight details only just the day before. Bloody hell! You see what I mean about being in the middle? Here I am worrying about whatever mishap may have befallen her when she could well be snoring away in her warm bed, blissfully unaware that she may have kept people in waiting in limbo. Or I could be ranting and raving about what sadistic screws I’ll be working in her soul when I find her so she understands what she’s put me through, when she could be trapped in some ditch somewhere. Middle, no absolutes, no certainties, just nowhere and yet spread thinly everywhere! Which kin’ wahala be dis eh?!

God, I pray you keep her safe so I can volunteer to be your rod of chastisement upon her sou- She just answered the phone! See? What did I tell you earlier?! She was flippin’ asleep! She answered with that throaty sexy – She had the temerity to answer me with a very groggy “Hey baby”! Can you imagine? Just come back first, and you’ll see what I’ll do to you! I’m going apply that rod of… correction to you until you beg for mercy – I hope. Nonsense! Thanks guys for lending me a listening ear jare! Let me go and put my house in order as I ponder the difference between this and dealing with a runaway thirteen year old child. Have a great week everyone! As for you, Frieda, come here, I’m not done with you yet!

Enugu!

Top of the week to all and sundry this fine morning. It’s been an extremely broiling weather here in Lagos for the past month and it has shown no signs of relinquishing its hold on the country. If I were a farmer I would be very worried. Come to think of it, I am an eater so I should be worried and if we go on at this rate with no rain in sight, there’ll be no need for cooking our yams or potatoes when we dig them up with pneumatic drills. I can hardly take a few steps outside without being drenched in sweat. I don’t go out unless I absolutely have to and when I do, it’s either in the morning or at night. Kinda reminds me of Houston, Texas. I went there some sometime ago in June for my cousin’s wedding. Hm, I have never seen anywhere as hot! Must have been at least 40C on a cool day. We used to, my brother, Imaga, and I, when we wanted to go out, dash outside, turn on the engine of our rented car, put the air conditioning on, and dash back into the house to wait for the car’s interior to cool down. I made a note to, next time I ventured into that state at that time of the year, specifically request for a rental car that can be started by remote control. I don’t really know about having such a vehicle here in Lagos because might be someone who may not mind so much driving off in a car whose only impediment is a heated interior. Nevertheless, the point I’m making is that it is excruciatingly hot here and to raise the stakes a little higher, I’ll be travelling to Enugu, which is in the south east of the country, later this week. It is the very town and its characteristic heat that I, on a lighter note, wish to speak.

It was, I think, in the late eighties when the prowess of the Enugu weather made our country proud by enacting the Aesop tale of the fox and the stork. The details are a bit hazy but I do remember the African Cup of Nations football tournament was round the corner and every country vied to qualify for the knockout (second) stage of the tournament. The first stage has different groups comprising about four to six countries with each country playing one another with a view to rack up enough points to qualify for the second round. The competing countries play two matches; one in each country’s home turf. For example if Zambia and Malawi are playing two matches, one will be played in Malawi and the second leg in Zambia. If each country wins in its home turf, then the goal difference between them is racked up and the one with the greater aggregate wins. However any goal scored against the host country doubles in points making it imperative that the guest be prevented from scoring any goals at all (legal) costs. The particular country we were playing with was Algeria and the first leg was to be in their country. We, known for our typical good spirits and sportsmanship, went there to play and got a very cool reception. Our boys were taken to a city in the northern part of Algeria where distant snow capped mountains bordering it glistened in the pale sun. Our boys, unaccustomed to the freezing weather, were unable to cope and played like old women trying to flee a rabid dog, and lost. Our wretched crestfallen boys trudged back home to prepare for the second leg of the match in a last attempt to qualify for the elimination round.

Our incensed sports body hurriedly met to decide how best to both give the Algerians their just desserts and qualify for the next round in one fell swoop. The initial plan was to play the match in Sokoto, a city in the north that is part arid desert and averages temperatures of 42C until one man advised them to designate Enugu as the venue for the match. With some reluctance and after much argument, they agreed. Enugu, which means ‘the city on the hills’, is actually surrounded roundabout by the hills and combines with the extreme humidity the tropicals are known for (and, as far as I’m concerned, is where the ozone layer opened up) to raise the city to the temperature of a blistering pressure cooker. The match was fixed for 2pm. They came, and we played, they kept fainting, and we kept scoring, and they lost and we won, and they complained, and we, we stuck our tongues out at them! The stork triumphed over the fox! It was a sweet joy for everyone, even me – I’m not particularly interested in football except for my beloved Arsenal.

I sit here thinking about Enugu, my beloved valley in the hills where I partly grew up and mull over my work there, running about on barefoot, and possibly half naked, in the scorching weather and pray my days there are mercifully short. Then again, I never know what could jump out at me and make me reluctant to leave; they almost always do, so I will be on the lookout.  Have a great week everybody and those of you in the freezing weather, think about us here while we in our scorcher think of you there. Cheerio!