I Flew to My Death

I Booked a Ticket to Death

I was up in the skies, as high up as any human could ever get without your destination being space. I was sure this was it for me. All the frantic movements and shouts were a dull whisper in my ears while my body hit temporal snooze.

I heard my body shake all of a sudden and then it all came clamoring to life my organs. My eyes knew to blink faster, my ears seemed to twitch with every noise filtering in and my teeth clattered like someone on the road to hell. Shivers went down my spine at intervals like they usually did when malaria had hit me hard.

36 years on this earth and this was to be my end? Death on a plane with strangers I didn’t know? With shouts of “Egbami” “ Eje Jesu!” as my soundtrack? This must be a cosmic joke. PS Yoruba people can shout sha.

I thought of my mum. I wonder how she would take the news of my demise. Would she cry? Wail? Or just hate me for making this trip when she clearly asked me not to?

I thought of my fiancée, how long before she moved on to her next maga. That girl was a HOE! Now I’m not so sure why I turned a blind eye to all her faults. Had I become that person I swore never to be? Had I become my most dreaded nightmare? My father?

I had become a man blinded by his ambition to never return to the grasps of poverty that the rest of my life had been snatched from me.

Would the office compensate my mother well for my loss? Would the airline compensate her too? Would the money I left to her be enough to care for her as she aged?

I had questions, who would answer them? Would I be a skulking ghost that hovered the earth in hopes of reconnecting with the only woman that loved me with her all?

In all this I had only one solace, at least I was dying in first class.

A hand reached out and grabbed mine tight. “First class or coach, all men are equal after all.”

Had I spoken my thoughts out loud? I must have, she had a pretty smile. Too bad the plane was about to end that smile.

I closed my eyes to stop all my thinking as I accepted my fate, to die a death that was never meant for me. Then she started to sing. I can imagine just how Jacob felt when he saw the angels coming up and down the ladder, an angel had come to take me home, but this was no angel. This was the woman beside me. She sang “Pass me not oh gentle saviour” and I felt the tremors run down my spine. Surely. There was a God.

I felt the strength in her voice and I was fuelled, I got up from my seat and walked to the shaken hostess who was trying her best to have everyone seated and remaining calm. I asked her to give me the loudspeaker I saw her use before, she did and I walked on shaky legs back to my seat.

Gave this device to Noelle, that was her name, Noelle. As she began to sing I saw how the place transformed as though a spirit was moving round, hushing people up, the people began to seat on their seats, the calm came in stages and before long, people joined in.

Then procedures began to take effect, we all sang as the hostesses got almost everyone strapped to a parachute. We were hovering somewhere over Mexico and the plane had lowered significantly so the jump wasn’t so terrifying, even if I don’t know that people would have minded pulling an extreme sport just to remain alive.

“It is well” was her next song and for the next 50 minutes every passenger on the plane was evacuated, except Noelle and myself who opted to go last as the peace needed to remain for every passenger.

Finally only both of us were left as passengers, I asked that she go first but she just looked at me, faced the exit, held my hand as if to jump together and pushed me first. I shouted with everything in me not for fear but because I had met a woman, fallen in love and probably lost her in the space of an hour.

I didn’t stop shouting till I heard the explosion. I was hitting the ground now and safety people were there to help me but I knew, I knew I lost a part of myself in that explosion.

The story goes that she did jump out just after me but didn’t jump far enough from the plane so she got caught in the explosion.

But you see, all that was not information I was willing to understand, I knew only to understand the pain that came with knowing I had lost the love of my life.

And her music saved me.



Every man for himself

Yomi: the coolest dude you'll ever meet/ amazing Business Man

Yomi: the coolest dude you’ll ever meet/ amazing Business Man

Welcome back to “Mydetoxify” I had a slight problem last week which lead to the No post but its all good now.

For today’s post I had initially planned to rant and rave about the injustice of the Job hunt process but a very good friend of mine Wuyi Ayano wrote this piece that summed up a lot I thought. ENJOY!!

It had been 3 months after my NYSC  when the reality of  getting  a job hit me and the worst part is how people who consider you for a job insinuate that ‘you need experience to gain experience’.

I was fed up because I never thought it will be this difficult considering the connections I assumed I had made. It was at the peak of my struggle that I came to the totally cliche conclusion that NOBODY REALLY CARES.

After a review of my situation ,I summoned my friends from school for what most people call a “re-union”; at least we were all job hunting and well, maybe we could help each other out. Apparently we all had connections we thought would be active by now, but after a long day between chats, laughs and thoughtful moments, we came to the same conclusion “NOBODY REALLY CARES”and decided to work together to make our parents proud as that is the aim of every child (I’m assuming).

It was mainly about applying for jobs, going for interviews, making relevant calls, getting small jobs and flexing (at least YOLO). I was the first to get a job based on a contract from my former Place of Primary Assignment (NYSC) and so I brought my friends in. We did the job and shared the pay equally. I had 3 more jobs from the same office and it was pretty amazing because we were back together having fun and never going broke (the good life don’t you agree?). This was already about 6months after my NYSC.

My friends were the kind of people I trusted fully considering the fact that we have been pretty close for over 5 years and so there was this level of trust I assumed we all had for each other.

It was a week after I got a call from my brother who had gotten a job for me in another state, which I turned down because he couldn’t get slots for my friends that I found out that two of my guys were already processing a job at the marine institute. Woow!

This broke me so bad I could think of nothing but what my brother said; ‘you better let go of your friends and stay sharp’, and how I turned that statement down.

I couldn’t bare the sight of them as anger and disappointment raged within me, fighting to be let loose upon the subjects in question. Thoughts of how stupidly carried away I had become, how I had wasted time, money and opportunities circled my brain and worse would be the look on my brother’s face when I tell him; “I told you so…” will be written all over his features. As a matter of fact my melancholic self had described my actions as fetching water from the well and pouring it into an ocean.

I was all cold and silent for about 2 days as they kept on asking what was wrong with me. Responses from my mouth never matched my thoughts and facial expressions as I was replying with statements like ‘I am fine, I no just dey feel myself’ but my those statements never worked simultaneously with my actions.

Before nightfall that same day, I had decided never to talk about it and to travel home the next day, when I suddenly changed my mind deciding to have it out before leaving. So I called them and told them I knew about the marine job and it was not fair that I wasn’t told. The first person’s response was more like a sincere apology; ‘no vex, I think say I tell you’ and the second guy continued with a statement that nailed everything; ‘everyman for himself o’.

Then my incomplete smile reminded me of the fact that NOBODY REALLY CARES and my so-called-friends were not an exception. This was my worse experience in life so far  but my brain made a registration that day…c’est la vie!

We Found Love

Blessing:Model for the day

Blessing:Model for the day

A good Friend of mine Solomon Adenuga wrote this and I totally fell in love with it, Enjoy…

Until the first day of my NYSC orientation camp, I had never believed in love at first sight. To be honest, I had never truly believed in the concept of love before that fateful morning.

After praying, fasting and basically begging God and my parents to help me get posted to Lagos, I had been shocked and disappointed when I found out i’d be serving in Abuja, a city where I had no family, no friends, no car and no accommodation. All the plans I had made to spend my service year in Lagos with my friends had fallen apart and there was nothing I could do about it, It was very upsetting.

I was still in a foul mood when i got to the NYSC camp in Kubwa that morning and a soldier asked me to carry my luggage on my head. He looked like he was joking but the horsewhip in his hand and the stern faces of his colleagues pointed otherwise. I decided to look around for clues and that was when I first caught a glimpse of  her, the proverbial damsel in distress, struggling to balance a heavy bag on her head with one hand and carry her stuffed bucket with the other. It was a funny sight to behold, but there was something innocent and appealing about it, I had to see more.

I quickly placed my bag on my head, hurried to catch up with her and asked,

“Do you need any help with that?”

She smiled and replied, “don’t you have your own stuff to worry about”

Before I could utter my next words, another soldier had interrupted and asked us to “double up”our pace to join our respective queues. And so began what I expected to be the worst three weeks of my entire life. The early morning parades, exercises, mosquito bites and the massive queues at every point were unbearable and if wishes were horses, i’d definitely have rode one out of Camp Kubwa by the second day.

On the fifth day of camp, Cupid and the other gods-in a bid to get me to stay at Kubwa, let me see my beautiful damsel in distress again. I had just entered the “Lady A” eatery to eat its famous fried rice when I noticed her seated with her friends, having dinner. Even though I ached to speak to her, I wasn’t ready to do so in the presence of her noisy friends so I begged the gods for another sign and luckily, they granted my request.

After she left with her friends, I noticed she had left her nysc cap behind. I was only halfway done with my meal and still had a big piece of goat-meat left on my plate but suddenly, nothing else mattered, I had to talk to her again. I paid for my food, left a generous tip-I couldn’t wait for my change, picked up the cap and started walking in the direction I saw her go with her friends.

To my amazement, I saw her walking alone towards me-well, towards “Lady A”- she had ditched her friends to go in search of her cap.

“Looking for this?” I asked holding up her cap and smiling sweetly.

“Yes, Oh my God, thanks,” she replied, taking the cap from my hand.

“You’re welcome, uhhmmm…can I walk you to your hostel”

“Yeah sure, why not”.

The next few minutes stretched into hours, our conversation was fascinating, intense and riveting. We sat in front of her hostel and talked like old friends who had lost contact and were trying to make up for lost years.
I was genuinely surprised when we were approached by soldiers who wanted to know why I was still at a female hostel after lights out-I honestly do not remember hearing the siren or anything else. I jogged to my hostel as the soldiers instructed, smiling half of the way-thinking about her, and frowning the other half when It hit me, I had not collected her number or even her name.

The next morning, immediately the morning parade and exercises were over, I went from platoon to platoon, hoping to spot her amongst the dispersing crowd, alas i couldn’t find her. Next I went to the OBS radio station and placed adverts to run every hour, asking “a beautiful stranger to meet the person who had rescued her cap the previous night, for a 3pm lunch at the place where they both had dinner”. It was a long shot, but it was all I could think of.

I waited at “Lady A” from 2pm till 4pm when it was time for the afternoon parade but she never showed up. As I walked dejectedly away from the “maami market“,considering my next move, I heard a familiar voice  behind me say

“hey stranger”.

I turned around and saw her, smiling at me, and immediately all my feelings of despair vanished. She looked like a beautiful mess with her tired eyes, her hair roughly tied in a bun and her white uniform and shoes plastered with stains.

“I wanted to meet you by 3 but I’ve been stuck in the kitchen as you can see. My platoon is on duty today” she said, still smiling.

I smiled back as I walked up to her, knowing deep inside that from that moment, my camp experience and my life in general was about to change.

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