Na Wa O

Good week everybody. Don’t ask me how I am right now ‘cos’ I’ll probably snap someone’s head off. Is this what producers see in movie shoots?!! It’s like playing chess with forty people at the same time; lose concentration for even a second and your production is delayed for an hour; and I’m just a co producer. Imagine what it would have been if I was the only producer on the set. Yes my friends, I am just helping out with producing and writing on this set in Minnesota just a week before I return to beloved Naija and I’ve already sprouted two new gray ones. Add very heavy emotional stress (which equals no sleep whatsoever) to the mix and you’ll understand if I’m spotted running naked along the streets soon. Anyway I’m saying all this to appeal to you to excuse me for putting out such a short post this week. Pray for me o; I need it! Have a great week everyone!

An Ode to 'No More Bullsh**t'

Minnesota! Minnesota! MINNESOTA OOOO! How many times have I shouted your name?!!! Minnesota will not kill me. Sorry folks, a good week to everyone. I was just lamen- sorry haling the weather here, after it just hailed me. Yes hailed; I thought I had seen every kind of weather until I came here. Would you believe that in just a space of the two hours I went out jogging in the park near my hotel this morning it snowed, then rained before falling as sleet? Yes my friends, I watched incredulously as first the snowflakes fluttered down from the sky, the delicate icy lattice settling onto my jacket with the uncertainty of a newborn kitten, and then fall into heavier drops of water, melting through the fabric in ghostly shapes, before bouncing angrily off it in little icy pellets! What was a sweltering 72F/22C – yes, it is for Minnesota, go suck a lemon! – the day before, plummeted to 34F/1C the very next day at 8am in spring! My total respect in all these goes to the original owners of the land, the natives that lived the land for hundreds of years. Those guys must have been extremely resourceful to have raised families in conditions where boiling water thrown into the air instantly freezes, or where a banana could be used to hammer nails into wood. I hail you guys.

Just got back from Atlanta, the city of woods as far as I’m concerned, for the premiere of my lovely sis Blessing Egbe’s movie Two Brides and a Baby and it was glorious! There are trees everywhere! Tall green majestic friendly looking trees, a world apart from the wintry serial killer looking tree havens you find up here in Minnesota. Yes, you guessed it, I do love trees; they give us fresh air, absorb unnecessary noise, absorb air pollutants and maintain our earth’s surface integrity. Mmm, trees… Atlanta has become one of my best cities in the world; it’s very accommodating, is vibrant; one has the feeling that everyone there is young and moving in the right direction. Even the not so young still have a strong zest for life. As a young African man, I felt quite at home there; I noticed there was in the city a strong black and vibrant community, where people did not seem to be apologetic for their aspirations to being successful in whatever ambitions they had, and for having a zest for life. In the short time I was there I felt the vibe of many cultures interspersed with one another, each with a willingness to learn from the others; Nigerian, Jamaican, Ghanaian, African American, White to mention but a few. It was nice.

Drat! I was supposed to talk about the premiere I came to the city for and got carried away. Everything carried me away, even the premiere and the wonderful people who made it happen. Even though we were two, Blessing Effiom Egbe and I – Stella Damasus and O C Ukeje, the other stars in the movie couldn’t make it – we more than made up for the absence of the others. We were like a bag of lit firecrackers, so full of energy and feeding off one another at press conferences, radio and television interviews and photo shoots. Our hosts, Deji and Jide, owners of Snapflix and their crew were phenomenal. Even though we were caught up in a whirlwind of activities and business meetings the minute we hit the ground, that team never for a moment failed to cater to our every need, however ‘whimsical’ –“y’all know I ain’t no diva”.

What I really want to say is I see a new lease of life being breathed into our entertainment industry, not from governments or from large corporations who want to dole out huge sums of money to make great big movies, but from a crop of young Africans, at home and abroad, who genuinely want to affect our world and the rest of the world around us. Africans who want to tell our own stories genuinely, what makes us laugh, what makes us cry. Why we love our pounded yam and egusi soup, fufu and palm butter soup, dodo and agoyin beans. Why a friendly banter between us might prompt a white lady to call 911 or why we fear our parents more than the child services agency and the police combined. I see a departure from the visionless insipid mush to which our movies have degenerated, to a budding industry that takes itself seriously as both a business and a drive to stamp our own Africaness, rich and vibrant, spicy and exotic, proud and irresistibly different, on the global cultural map. I want to be a part of that industry, even if my only contribution to it is by scribbling these measly lines as an ode to it, I want to be part of it if it is clean and genuine. Have a great week everyone!

Predator

Good week tout le monde! Easter’s just gone past; a fresh new year, a new lease of life for us Christians. A sweetheart of mine, ScarletVirgin on twitter – I have never known a name so cynical, going by her scandalous outbursts on that forum – once said that as a child, she looked forward to Good Fridays when she would pile up all the sins she committed for the year, throw them away with Jesus’ death and start afresh the following Monday. I’m not sure what her status is now but judging from her colourful language on twitter, she has either resorted to a daily cleansing with our Lord’s blood or given up entirely on any pretence at purification. My Easter weekend was a mixed bag of work, play and rest. Woke up at THREE in the morning to catch my FIVE am flight to Atlanta, hit the ground running by going straight into the charity work I was scheduled for till I was done at TWO am the next day, hit the shower, got dressed, went to a nightclub nearby, got back to the hotel at FIVE, hit the shower again, got dressed and headed for the airport to catch my FIVE hour 8am flight to Minnesota! I felt so sorry for the pretty onyibo lady seated beside me on the plane – my snoring must have added to the turbulence on the plane during the flight. The rest of the weekend was spent alternating between the bed, the fridge and the toilet seat. So, how was everyone else’s?

Thanks for the feedback on my last post. As always, some of you had me guffawing with laughter, most of whom was the ever irreverent imp Formerly Stealth Reader and her unabashed taste for vanilla milkshake. Yes Formerly, he was that scrumptious, according to Frieda, yes she was there as well, who flirted outrageously with him and even told me she’d give him two babies, to my face! Regarding his abs, well, let’s put it this way; you’d have to claw your way to the front of the queue – and I was with black women. Hopefully you’d still look presentable enough by the time you get there. Then again, there’s something about the panting, heaving, bleeding scratched tigress. Hmm…

I absolutely love the women of nowadays! Gone are the days when I used to believe we men were the predators. You only have to touch the right spot in the female homo sapiens to realize you are the insect in the venus flytrap. Be a horrible lover and you are free from her grasp. Be stupid enough to be a good lover and give her multiple orgasms and you are finished; you have become her antidote for every day, and every stress that comes her way. Unlike us men predators who attack, conquer and move on, perpetual nomads, these predators are smart; they think of tomorrow; they bolster the strength and needs of their prey, nurturing them, fattening them, feeding their ego, stealthily and cyclically guiding them back to the nurturing fertile gardens from whence they came, all the while making them think they are in charge. You only have to see an intruder (their fellow stealth predators) within their marked territory to unmask their true nature. It’s an enchanted spell I tell you and I love it! I have already told God that if there’s no sex in heaven there’d best be something far better otherwise I’m holding up a placard. Yes, I said it! I can’t fear anyone! God created sex and saw that it was good and I Kalu am living proof of that! Where is that nonsense Frieda?! Oya, come here…! Wait for what?!! Shut up! Tempter of me!

Sorry, have a great week everyone!

This Coming Christmas...

Bam bam biyam bam bam… Top of the week to everyone! Don’t mind me please, I have, for some reason been humming the old song by Rihanna all evening. Don’t bother asking me the name or the words of the song because I don’t know and probably never will. This is coming from the lips of someone who nursed a dream of becoming a rock star at the age of six. Thanks to my Igbo father, that dream only saw the four walls of almost every bathroom I took my shower in and was always left there. I did however, have the privilege of meeting someone who actually defied her conservative Nigerian parents’ expectations of what a good Nigerian girl should be; subservient, have a safe professional job, provide both families with a huge litter of kids and give her parents a grand funeral when they’ve passed on.

Faith plays my character’s other love interest in the movie being shot at the moment. She’s one of the most effervescent ladies I have met who affects one almost instantly with her bubbly nature upon meeting her. I mean how many Nigerian women travel widely around the world for reasons other than shopping or hustling – and by hustling I mean honest, legal enterprise which,contrary to negative opinion, is what most of our wonderful ladies do? Faith travels widely on excursions, professional gigs and even skiing trips. Talk about breaking the norm. she had the gumption to stand up to her parents and do what she always wanted to do – music of the rock genre, and is actually very good at it. Like a smart Naija babe too, she made sure she bagged a good university degree, started a business that currently runs itself before gallivanting the length and breadth of the globe in pursuit of her dream. Youth reading this, please take note and be smarter than me. I’m meeting up with her later this week over coffee and that I am looking forward to.

Christmas is almost upon us and from the way things are, it looks like I’ll be spending my Christmas here in the US. I can’t seem to get a flight to Lagos earlier than the 28th so I’m looking to make the rest of my stay here in the States as eventful as possible. Fortunately, I tracked down two friends I haven’t heard from in a while; one’s in New York and the other’s in Dallas. I’m opting for the one in Dallas because my cousin lives there as well and it’s the warmer of the two. Even if I do go there, I wonder what the difference will be apart from the routine stuffing of one’s belly with food and drink; the very reason I want to run away from this place where I am. One of the greatest crimes one can commit, as I learnt from Thanksgiving, is to refuse people’s generous offer of food, especially as it is often a gesture of love in our African culture. Perhaps if we lived in the Roman times when there were vomiting troughs for the relief of overstuffed bellies so their owners could return to their gluttony, it would be a different matter, but my ever slowing metabolism dictates the pace these days.

As I sit here in this gray winter in Minnesota I keep asking myself what one does for amusement in this weather that does not involve drinking, eating, clubbing or the cinema? Ice fishing? Hunting? I can’t even shoot a catapult let alone a - Wait a minute! That’s it! I can go learn how to shoot at a shooting range! And then next time I come, I can take up hunting! Thanks guys, I got it; I got my mojo back! Now I can go to bed. No, I’ll do that after watching two more episodes of Family Guy and Robot Chicken. Have a great week everyone!

Snow Driven

Good week everybody. I hope you do have a good week because mine is not starting very well here. I am very nervous and I have good reason to be. In a few hours’ time I will be driving out in the typically sedate Minneapolis traffic to run some errands since I will not be on set today. The difference between today and the typically boring Minnesota traffic is that it snowed here last night. What I go out there to face on the icy roads is a stark reminder of the terror I faced two weeks ago, and the new perception I have of the Minnesota driving experience.

I am an avid driving enthusiast. I love to drive in all environs and strive to do so in whatever country I visit, just so I can get a feel of the pulse of its natives. The added challenge of driving on the left hand side of the road, which is the case when I travel to countries like the UK, is one, or mad cities like Paris where cars are used to nudge other cars – with their occupants still inside them- out of the way so they can fit better into parking spaces , or the mad mad Lagos traffic where the proclivity to having an accident is almost entirely dependent upon whether one has a loud functioning car horn or not. Like I said before, Minnesota traffic is boring. One never exceeds the set speed limits on its roads without the risk of getting speed tickets from bored policemen under pressure from overstaffed stations to rake in as much revenue as possible to be able to keep their jobs. Roads are wide and the traffic is sparse. Rush hour in Minnesota means driving ten miles (sixteen kilometres) in twenty minute; in Lagos, rush hour means driving sixteen kilometers in three hours. And traffic jam? Well, let me put it this way. On my way home one day, I hit a traffic jam not two kilometres from my home. Since I was already near, I relaxed, unperturbed, and waited. Three hours and two hundred metres later and almost tearing my hair out in frustration, I pulled over to the side and went into a peppersoup joint. Two odekus (big stout) and two bowls of goat meat peppersoup later, I got into my car and got back in line three cars behind the car that was right behind me when I pulled over at the joint TWO hours earlier. Enough said.

You can then understand my low opinion of the Minnesotan rush hour which Benitez, our operational manager who takes us about to places we need to go, continuously complains about; that is until a few weeks ago when the snow finally fell for the first time. It fell on a Saturday, as had been precisely predicted by the weather forecasters five days earlier and as always, the soft look of the brilliant white sheet over everything thrilled everyone in the room; everyone but the battle hardened drivers in the group who knew what the fluffy innocent sheets portended. We drove out unto the crunchy ice of the just fallen snow on the quiet side streets jabbering animatedly. There were four of us in the car and the plan was to drop the other two passengers off before me because I lived the furthest away. We turned the corner into the main road listening to a tale of some vitriolic prima donna who loved to give waiters a hard time when suddenly we noticed the two cars in front of us were struggling to stop. We followed suit and to our horror, well my horror actually, realized we were on a smooth sheet of ice and car wasn’t going to stop. I watched mesmerized as our vehicles slewed all over the place and ours finally came under control when our quick thinking Benitez turned the wheel towards the pavement (sidewalk) brushing the tyres against the kerb, giving us much needed traction and bringing us to a complete stop. My participation in that conversation ended there. My next and continuous focus of interest was the traffic around me, half expecting to be rammed into from behind by some heavy truck or being T-boned by some out-of-control vehicle that couldn’t stop at the lights. In the course of our two and a half hour journey we observed no less than six serious accidents on the road – it was later to climb to a record four hundred and eighty by the next day). Amidst all this, cars kept whizzing past us like it was summer. I will not lie to you, I was scared **itless.

As I make up my mind to venture going out there on my own, I do with nervousness and a certain thrill of adventure. If others can do it, well so can i. I will not go out there armed with foolishness though; I have asked for tips on how to drive on black ice and how best to control my vehicle when the inevitable occurs. Finally I don’t bloody care what anybody thinks; I am going to drive like a ninety year old grandpa out there. Pray for me somebody and see you hopefully next week. Have a great week everybody!