Boss Lady

Shortly after Kikilomo Adams arrived home that evening her fingers absentmindedly undoing the third button of her tight silk blouse to reveal the smallest hint of a delicate black-lace bra. She drew a lavender-scented bubble bath in her antique, claw-foot porcelain tub pulling a bobby pin from her hair and releasing a cascade of shimmering auburn hair down the nape of her neck. Once she deemed the temperature of the bathwater to be just right, she allowed my terry-cloth robe to slip slowly off her shoulders and gather seductively around her feet, leaving her firm, nearly flawless body completely exposed.

At this point, she took a moment to look into the mirror and think about how there are times in her busy life when she just wants a man—any man, really—to satisfy her every sexual desire, because, while she may be a no-nonsense career woman who should be taken seriously, She is, after all, still a woman.

Considering the long day spent competing with men on her own tough and uncompromising terms, she deserves some time to pamper herself and express her femininity. Because she is such an unrelenting perfectionist when it comes to her profession, Kiki’s other, softer qualities—such as her gourmet culinary training and her years spent as a semi-professional ballet dancer—are often overshadowed.

Thoughts of work seem to float away as Kiki tenderly kneads her skin with scented lotion.

When she was lying in the tub, the bubbles just barely covering her perfect pink nipples, She felt all the pressures of her high-paying, fast-paced job just melt away, Maybe it’s Olubankole Wellington’s “I was made for you” playing on the stereo, or the gentle night-time breeze blowing through the curtains of her 11th-floor service apartment in Ikoyi, but as she washed every contour of her impossibly lithe frame, She really began to feel like herself again.”

And when she slowly submerged her head beneath the water, letting the telephone ring unanswered, that’s when she truly transforms into a gorgeous, sensual woman with a strong libidinal appetite instead of just some incredibly successful female professional.

In addition to celebrating her femininity, she used her time spent bathing to reflect on her decision to delay starting a family, a lifelong dream she has had to put on hold in order to focus on a career that can be ruthless and even cutthroat.

It is also Kiki’s intention to close her eyes, smile in a rather suggestive manner, and let out a small, feminine sigh of satisfaction while in her bathtub tonight.

Kikilomo Adams; the sexy, take-no-prisoners career woman spent one hour in the bathroom mesmerizing herself. After completing her ablutions and air-drying in the nude, she carefully applies a rich, apricot-based lotion to her supple frame, despite the fact that her unblemished skin is already taut and butter-smooth.

“Every once in a while, I need some time for myself to recharge, It’s important to me that I reconnect with my womanhood so I can wake up the next day, put on my short, formfitting pantsuit and black 6-inch patent-leather stiletto pumps, and confidently re-enter the no-holds-barred, male-dominated field in which I excel.” Kiki soliloquized

Heroic Of An Orphan – The Sun Newspaper Book Review

The late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were regarded as the Golden Age of Juvenile Literature, as classial works of juvenilia were produced, leading to the emergence of a new canon. Thomas Hughes’ Tom Brown’s School Days, Lewis Carrol’s Alice in Wonderland, Robert Stevenson’s Treasure Island and Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer are classic any shoolboy could easily barter for lollypop

This genre is seen as a new way of governing children’s behaviour than physical displine, using didacticism brightly coloured covers and page illustrations as an enticement. Juvenile literature (prose, drama and poetry) are writings directed at children to make them grow joyously.

The Adventures of Ofarimerechi is a fable that is not ony appealing to juveniles but also to adults because of the depth of the theme explored and the diction deployed. The bonus here is that the young reader must emerge from the reading exercise with rich, descriptive poetic language in his repertoire

The dominant theme in the book are bastiality and the tragedy of war and their overreaching consequences on every creature. Man has built beautiful cities, fancy cars, among other scientific innovation for himself, yet he has continued to make life miserable for animals in the bush, hunting them fir games and klling them for mischief. The author is worried by the descration of the ecosystem by man.

The two major charactees in the book Ofarimerechi (an 8-year-old boy) and Kudu (the talking antelope) are hard done by. While Ofa is orphaned by the war, Kudu is separated from the herd due to the same reason. When they run into each other, a bond of friendship quickly develops between them and their lifestyle becomes a shining example of what it means to live in peace and harmony – what humanity is lacking at the moment

The Adventures of Ofarimerechi enjoys a narrative combo: the third person point of view and the first person are weaved in the narrative. The story begins with the third person – “Once in the eastern village of Ogbunike, northeast of the Niger…” -and alternates with the first person narrative when the Talking Kudu begins to tell his own story: “I galloped desperately beneath the gleam of the evening…”

All through this titillating tale, the atmosphere switches between dark forebodings, unease and joy. We are told, from the begining of the story of Ofa liing in a workd that apprars to him to be like a netherworld; the grass is no longer growing due ti aerial bombardments for three years (the Nigerian Civil War?). From his hideout, “the sky was being torn asunder by a spinning thunderous tremor”

Our hero soon becomes a waderer lost in a forest where there is no indication of human life. Even the panting antelope he encounters, one of the suurvivors of the blitz, is scared to death: “Kill me already, and be over with it!” But Ofa swears. “I am not going to kill you.” When the animal returns, “you are about the only human who is not about to plunge an arrow through my back or sword into my chest”, we get the exact picture of how anguished the animal world feels about us.

Kudu’s exciting tale of his journey – meeting the wonderful pangoline and the Great Moa – tickles the orphan, filling him with awe and the spirit of adventure, and it’s an adventure that cuts across the grassland, the intoxicating Guinea Savannah with the glimpses of paradise. At the Mystical Garden, Ofa apoligises ti the elegant latite (Great Moa) for the destructive hunting expeditions of man on animals.

A turning point in the narrative is when Kudu us shot by hunters but is revived by the daring Ofa, using the mystical golden feather given to him by the Great Moa. Aside swelling the vocabulary of the young reader, The Adventure of Ofarimerechi offers invaluable geographical lessons on our flora and fauna. Names of different plants and animals and their peculiar habitats are worked into the tale, as the levitating physical setting of Enugu and the realm of fantasy commingle in a masterly disinvention of time and space. We have the magic tree, the mystical garden, among others.

A page-turner makes you feel hunky-dory, yes. That’s what Linda Etuk’s juvenilia does to you. This is the type of story book that ought to be in the school curriculum.

The Sun Newspaper

Friday, July 27, 2018

By Henry Akubuiro

An Apology Letter To Mother Earth

The simple phrase of “I’m sorry” isn’t just enough.

Dear Mother Earth,

Oh mother earth, your beauty remains a wonder by divine design. Your life forms evolve and my love for you is absolute. You have provided us with food, shelter, air, water, resources and most importantly, love. For millions of years you have unconditionally provided for mankind and the animals we share this planet with, and you never truly ask for anything in return but care and love. You truly are the mother of the world. You support all races, religions, genders, ages and all walks of life. You love unconditionally and provide for us always. Not just the things we need to survive, but the very things that make life worth living. I come forward to say “I’m sorry.” I understand sorry cannot undo what has been done, but I am sure that it can help ease the pain and tension of the aftermath.There is a lot to be sorry for.

I am sorry that many people do not understand you. They call you a disaster but man was the first ever encroacher, we evaded your privacy, we build our great city on your chest; along fault line and near the cracks in the Earth’s crust yet we don’t expect to exasperate you. When you quake shifting and swirling around in discomfort, we call you names that are not befitting; typhoon, tsunami, cyclone, earthquake, monsoon etc. Within minutes of any major fidgety movement you make, shock-waves can twist the landscape, flatten buildings and wipe out entire neighbourhoods but man never learns her lesson. Yet we want to live in countries bordered by great walls away from each other. Amassing more lands we were not supposed to live in, lands that were not meant for us. A mother must have her privacy. Even human mothers have their private parts. Their children do not know what comes from it and even what it emits.

I am sorry that many people do not see our planet this way. That many people see the wonders you have created as simply commodities to be used up, mass produced and wasted, all at the expense of making money. We build skyscrapers to block out the sun, install artificial light that blocks out the sky and stars, we no longer feel grass between our feet but we have cold concrete, certain animals are seen as not having emotions but simply being put on this earth for us to use as food and mistreat. We take all you have provided for us and use it until we can use no more. We exploit this beautiful home you have given us. And as we exploit it, we seem to wound you.

You cry in pain, but no one seems to hear it. Those who do hear you have been silenced by higher powers; those who try and mend your wounds are removed from the public. It seems we have attempted to numb ourselves from your pain, as it hurts us too much to know that we have begun the process of killing you. Only now have many people begun to realize the damage we have caused you, Mother Nature. Only now can we maybe, and I stress maybe, begin to fix the damage we have done to you. Mother Nature, I am sorry. But sorry will never be enough.