The place of the dead.

** Some Graphic descriptive words are used in this morbid post. If you get scared while picturing things, this read might not be for you**

There's something about a mortuary.

I cannot expressly remember ever being INSIDE one, even though i have gone there several times before. You get what i mean?

Everyone has watched films where some unfortunate family member has to go to the morgue to identify their loved ones... They come in tentatively, an attendant meets them and leads them to a covered sheet or a chest of drawers and opens it for them to behold...the tears then start flowing as they confirm and are led out back…sigh..

My first visit inside one was when I travelled back home after dad died and had to go to the morgue to pay my respects/see him/make sure he was being taken care of.

Holy Rosary hospital Emekuku, quite sensibly, located theirs quite a way out in their sprawling facility and honestly, it was very peaceful and quiet. I went with uncles Emma, Maurice and Emeka, and to be honest, I still don’t know what to make of the whole experience…

We arrived and had to wait for the attendant who had gone somewhere. We stayed gisting for a bit till he came and these fucking butterflies in my stomach picked up the pace of their fluttering significantly.

Apparently, he knows Uncle Emma who was the one that did all the initial procedures after Dad passed and then turns to look at the rest of us. At first, he stares thoroughly at us as if trying to determine our suitability to view what we came for and after satisfying himself, shakes hands with us all. He tells us to hold on and goes into another office for a few minutes and comes out with the key to another room beside. He opens it and we soberly file in.

It’s not the smell that hits you first as all the books will claim. For me, the sights registered before the smell of whatever awful chemicals they use for their work.

There is no way to couch this nicely. It’s a fucking ugly place!

I register about three different bodies, all stiff and stretched out before I see my dad laid out on a concrete slab in the middle of two other bodies. He looks….peaceful and it’s as if he’s rubbed cream all over his face and body! I cannot tear my eyes away as I see that there’s only a piece of cloth covering his midsection.

The one thing I notice that startles me and starts to get me pissed off is that there’s a rope of some sort which has been used to bind his legs together. I’m about to take it up with the attendant when all of a sudden, and I’m not exaggerating here, an IMMENSE feeling of total sadness engulfs me and I finally decide not to say anything.

This sad feeling persists and I don’t even realize I’ve been rooted to the same spot, staring at my dad for  about two minutes or more until I feel a continuous strong tug on my arm as Uncle Maurice pulls me away and tells me we have to go.

I mentally pull myself back and say a temporary goodbye to my dear dad.

It’s crazy.

May the soul of Nze Cosmas Ibemere and the souls of all the faithful departed, rest in perfect peace.

That odd post when i write a tribute

This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Write a tribute to you, thereby acknowledging that you are truly gone from our lives..

Dad, you meant the world to me. You shaped me into the man I’ve become today by teaching us so much about values, principles and how to be decent human beings.

You taught us the importance of knowing and loving God in our lives. Your devout Christian life was not just about words....it was demonstrated so many times and gave us all examples of how to lead good catholic lives.

You taught us and showed us the importance of family. You would always insist that no sacrifice was too great when it involved family and you did this time after time, making sure that the whole family unit always remained as one wherever we are in the world.

You taught us the value of education. You always insisted on us getting the best education and I will never forget how you had to write a petition to the minister to ensure I was not denied a chance to go to a good secondary school back then.

You taught us about responsibility and showed us the values of honoring whatever commitment you had with God or with people in this world. You always lived up to the numerous challenges and succeeded as only you could do.

You were a man of integrity, one who always stood for the truth no matter the situation. You were a Peacemaker and a natural leader who commanded respect from EVERYONE without even trying. Your generosity was also legendary!! I cannot recall how many times you would give to people in need even though things were tough at home. We would laugh over it and you would assure us that things would get better…and they always did.

Most importantly, you were a great father to us all. Nnamdi, Uche, Ugo, and I will always cherish the companionship, love, care, advice, and values you showered us with.  We will certainly pass this on to your grandkids.

So many great memories of you Dad, so many things to say, so many plans which you and I had..especially within this year and now we have to live with the fact that you are gone from us.Yes it hurts very badly.

We are consoled with the fact that you lived a good Christian life and if the countless testimonies of how good you were are anything to go by, I am sure you would be smiling down on us from Heaven.

Dad, please don’t stop looking after us, no matter wherever you may be….You will live forever in my heart and will always be my dearly beloved dad.

Rest well Nze, You were a great man and you will be sorely missed.

Nze is gone...

Sigh…never expected to be writing this post but oh well…here goes.

I lost my Dad on Feb 26^th this year.

See ehn, one of the things that genuinely gets me scared, I’m talking bone-chilling, heartbeat freezing scared was the thought of losing any of my loved ones.

It’s funny how your mind plays tricks on you and you never get to really understand how large a chunk of yourself gets torn out in this kind of situation until you’ve literally been awake for days and all you can think about is how on fucking earth’s sake you’re expected to go on without this person.

Now it’s fucking happened.

I guess writing about it may help to sort out however I’ve been feeling.

Mom calls us weeks before and tells us Dad has not been feeling too well…truthfully, none of us are too panicked as yet because even though the man’s health has not always been the best, he’s a renowned fighter and those bouts of sickness which come once in a while have always been shaken off quickly….So we send some money home and take time to call regularly.

It’s during these phone calls that I start to get the shakes.

My dad has always always been very cerebral, clear-headed, and articulate so how and when did he start sounding disjointed, confused, and to be honest, rambling at times? The first few times, I pass it off as just plain tiredness and maybe a drug-induced condition.

But this goes on and it becomes a struggle every time you call and insist on speaking to him.

I really panicked at some point and call my brothers to voice my serious concerns…they have experienced same and I start getting this sense of dread in my stomach at every point.

Forward to a week later and Mom calls to let us know that he had to be rushed to the hospital as his blood sugar dropped drastically!!... This is very weird because Dad has managed diabetes for about 20 years and monitors his sugar levels RELIGIOUSLY. The doctors are concerned about his blood sugar levels and start giving him insulin injections(something he’s never had to take ever before).

My personal shakes increase X2.

He’s discharged and comes back home where he continues on the insulin injections and honestly, the situation doesn’t improve a whole lot. Every time I call, Mom (God bless her)always goes “your dad is sleeping/resting” ,” He’s a bit better today”, “We thank God, today was better than yesterday” and trying her best (unsuccessfully for me)not to let us panic.

Late in the evening of stupid Feb 25^th. Uche calls me and is uncharacteristically very grave. He lets me know that Dad  has been rushed to the hospital again and has been put on oxygen!.

Man, at this point, I start getting hot/cold chills at the same time and start praying as if someone’s life depends on it… Bruh…I’m not sure how I survived that night. Started trying to make travel plans to go to the village but after hearing that Nnamdi is leaving first thing next morning, I change my mind and decide to let him head there instead.

Morning of fucking Feb 26^th and it’s been a restless, sleepless night for me. I call Mom and everyone at the hospital is strangely calm and asking us to pray for him to get through it all.

I start praying again and willing Cosmas to fight this shit like he’s always done. He’s never one to give up easily so I try to summon willpower for him from here in Lagos and urge my dad to fight this fucking monster sickness.

My Dad gave up the fight later that morning and honestly I’m not sure life can ever be the same again.

Mom calls me at work where I’ve gone to try and distract myself and tells me in the calmest voice I’ve ever heard from her. No hysterics, no crying(which she’s obviously been doing all night) and all the while she’s the one trying to comfort me as I stand there on the staircase at the back of Nairabet call center absolutely paralyzed with shock and receive what is undoubtedly the worst news of my life!

Fucking February 26^th 2020. My Dad has died.

That day I finally got to experience when people say they got things done in a daze. The next few hours pass by in a blur and all I can remember is calling Uche..breaking the news to him, pleading with him to send his car so I can make sure there’s a way to get Ugo out of the office once I break the news to her, calling Chioma to tell her, then going to Mark’s office to take permission for some time off.

Letting Ugo know is something I’m not looking forward to. I’d been at her place earlier today and she had been crying as well…..we decided to come to the office to take our minds off things while we keep in touch with Namo who had left for home that morning. I call Michael and ask him to bring her downstairs, get Anita to be on standby to get her things from her office and then break the news to her. She breaks down (thankfully, Uche’s driver has already arrived) so we take her to the car while I pack up my stuff and we head to Uche’s house.

The rest of the day passes for me in a grief-stricken haze. I mask it all by keeping busy…making phone calls, informing relations, making plans for the hospital procedures, talking with Chioma, receiving calls from practically everyone and generally trying extremely hard to leave my mind blank.

Somehow, somewhere at the back of my mind, my grieving process amazes me. Seeing as this is being written in May, there’s this acceptance that has finally come but even as at time of this going to press, I’ve truly not been able to cry and let myself bawl as I had previously imagined. The closest to tears I got was in Uche’s car comforting and holding Ugo as she wept. It was utterly heartbreaking for me to see her so and that was that.

Daddy, laa n’udo. You were the best part of my life for so long.

RIP Nze Cosmas Ogbonna Ibemere (1941-2020).

Village musing

Waking up, the first thing that hits you is the cold!!

That bone chilling, breath stealing, mind numbing cold that makes you wish you thought better about wearing normal teeshirts to bed and makes you resolve to include a duvet subsequently.

Nevertheless, you get out of bed and ignore it because, of course, your cramped two bedroom apartment in Lagos could never!!

Stepping out of the room into the harmattan mist drops the temperature considerably and for a minute, you are stunned into paralysis and can only huddle up and blow warm, mist-laden breaths into freezing palms.

You’d endure all this and freeze over and over again though because taking that trip back home to the village is worth it all.

Its always been that way for me.

Standing alone in the cold at the back yard of my parents house, the absolute sense of peace hits hard and re-intensifies the joy of getting away from the manic energy of Lagos.

I’m staring at vegetation all around the yard. It’s very well arranged.

Rows of pineapple plants with good looking, mature fruits sitting atop, Banana trees, one slightly bowed with a massive bunch of unfortunately unripe fruit, a couple of dwarf palm trees, a guava trees, a soursop tree with lots of very well camouflaged thorny fruit and a couple of Pawpaw trees at the edge of the fence making up the rear guard. As soon as I sight some ripened ones, I gleefully give in to the urge to pluck some pawpaws from one strangely slender, yet well laden tree.

Plucking pawpaws is a bit tricky, especially if they’re very high up and really ripened. The lengthy pole I’m using is sharp and easily pierces through the flesh without really dislodging it. Changing tactics brings better luck, as I wrap nylon bags around the sharp end of the stick and maneuver it to the actual stem where the succulent fruit is joined to the tree. A sharp prod brings it crashing down and as I’m stepping away with my prize, a pair of real life squirrels darting nimbly through the barbed wire atop the fence start making noises as if berating me for intruding into their space!!

Lol…fuck off you rodents. I was here first.

The air is different here. Not sure how I can describe it. It just seems…..for lack of a better word, purer. Inhaling is like taking menthol laden breaths and maybe it’s just the cold but clarity comes easier here and words/thoughts seem to come together better while breathing in the early morning air.

The village is coming awake. You can tell from the sounds. Metallic clangs from the tapper’s bicycle as he rides by, hungry bleats from the pampered goats in the next compound, scratching noises from firewood being dragged from piles to start fires, sputtering noises from motorcycle engines being started, a very weird call from a bird I’m yet to identify (tu-tu tu-tu...tuu tuuuu…) and yes, plenty of proud, lusty crows from unfaithful cocks all over the place.

Meanwhile I hear some insanely weak cock-crows coming from somewhere in the yard, almost like a low growl. Intrigued, I trace it to a small building at one end of the compound. It turns out to be a coop and I immediately identify the culprits. Two very big broiler cockerels. Despite their size, turns out these giant birds who can barely support their own weight are less than five months old. No wonder they couldn’t vocalize properly.

Poor things. I sense they’re being bred for the Christmas celebrations and relish the prospect of running a knife across their necks sometime later in the season. Walking away with my bruised pawpaw I file the thought away 

Of assumptions, pedestals and kisses….

One moment.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes. To be absolutely certain about someone or something. See ehn, there are lots of times I waver in making decisions or taking actions but on that fateful day, this wasn’t the case.

The glass door to my office opened and you snuck your head through, looking for someone who wasn’t there. I looked up and that was it.

I’m still amazed at how ridiculously easy it was to fall for you.

Then that memorable first date. After all the teasing, we decided to hang out that fateful evening. In hindsight, I am so grateful that you were able to make it because as you so rightly put it, that night changed the course of my life so far.

In the midst of delicious suya and overpriced cocktails, my pre conceived notions and assumptions  were broken down and as we talked…you in that wonderfully chatty way of yours…me, listening and laughing…I knew we had both discovered something special.

Chinks, it’s been an absolutely amazing month with you. The hangouts, the cinema dates…the special kisses…oh, those special kisses…(ps – I love the way you look dazed when we’ve been kissing)

You’ve been an inspiration for me to do better, be better and work harder. You make me strive to be a better human being and honestly, that is ALL we can ask for from anyone in this life. I love how you’ve trusted me with your love. I’m humbled because I know it’s not something you do lightly and I promise to never let you down.

Yes, I’ve had my worries about the future(not sure that’ll ever stop) but whenever I’m with you, it all fades into nothing.

Thank you for being you, my Chinky baby… It can only get better as we age…

Happy anniversary my love.

Cheers!!

Ps – did I tell you how amazingly beautiful you are??

Let's catch up

Hello Fam, it'll be an understatement to say "quite a while" but then...it HAS been a while.

 I made a wish sometime ago for the state of the economy to grant me the time to put more posts up.

Well, that wish was not granted. In fact it was virtually torpedoed. Nigeria officially entered a recession sometime ago and trust me when i say things are pretty rough.

Okaay...lets get to it.

This is a post to kinda update on everything that has been happening so far in my life.

Work has been okay so far.I thank the Lord that i still have a viable job and even though things haven't improved from what it was salary wise, it is still something to hold body and soul together. We moved to our new office complex which is a fantastic structure. Boss really went all out and spared no expense to make it look awesome.

It is a beautiful office and makes work fun.(If only the salary will match). See some pics

Moving on....

Yes fam. it has finally happened. The proverbial arrow has struck.

Let me introduce you all to "She who makes the world go round"....Miss Temitope Aguda who has done the impossible and made this young man fall in love.

We met sometime ago after i replied to one of her comments on this particular post on TNC and let me just say it has been a whirlwind of a trip. She's a fantastic gal and honestly, this might just be it.

Well....its been great and ...okay. I think i should stop gushing now....

(Notice my side eye hatred for picture taking?)

Moving on.....

Brutus, forgive my language, has been nothing but a bitch since i got it. Free advice for anyone looking to buy a car. GET A FUCKING NEW CAR!!!!!

It's been one issue after another and honestly, i'm tired of the whole thing. While i'm there thinking of how to save money and get shit done, constant car problems crop up all the time making life miserable for me. I've almost had it up to here and fam, don't be surprised when you see a new post detailng the sale of Brutus.

Moving on.....

Oh yes...i finally made the move over to the Island and i'm officially an "Island boy" now...lol. It's far different from the mainland. The constant wahala is the flooding. Dear God, the flooding!!

The drainage over here is absolutely fucked up and apparently when rain falls,the whole place becomes a soggy mess with lakes springing up in the middle of the roads, potholes magically appearing and the corresponding traffic becoming a nightmare. Thank God the house where i stay is really raised high, so we, unlike many unfortunate others do not get our compound flooded.

Ugo's house is fine as well but the road leading up to her place can give you nightmares when it rains.

Full disclosure: I've actually seen street kids fishing...yes fishing in some areas where you wouldnt dream of finding fish.

Moving on....

Did i mention how fucked up the economy has become? oh yes i did. Okay

Moving on.....

Mike my friend got married last week and i had to travel to Ado Ekiti to act as his best man. It was a good trip and apart from the witches at the court registry who made plans to ruin the day, it all went very well. I'm officially the last bachelor standing in our group of friends and well...lets just see how that goes.

I think we've caught up enough. I will try to be more regular with posts here (Scouts honour).

Let's hope that by the next time i post here, we would still be alive and well in a country that is better.

Amen!

Naked conversations

Hey fam, i recently published an article for "The Naked Convos".

Disclaimer: 90 percent of all you read is real. 10 percent was...well ..just made up for reading pleasure. Enjoy.

It’s a thursday evening and i’m rounding the day up by trying to catch up with the latest posts on TNC. This particular true life story titled “My Culture cost me the love of my life” catches my eye and inspires me to share the current quagmire in stuck in.
This is also a true life situation, so real names aren’t going to be used here (whatever purpose that serves). I’d also like to apologize in advance to all readers who aren’t from the Eastern areas or who have no idea about the subject matter at hand.
I thought i knew what pain felt like but holding Janet in my arms as she curled up keening (i understand that word perfectly now) in pain almost broke me and introduced me to pain by association.
Our first encounter strangely enough, was via a phone call. I had finally summoned up the courage to get my teeth a long overdue dental appointment. Her number was the contact for the dental clinic and that’s how we hit it off.
Now in my early thirties, i’ve had more than my fair share of relationships but the four months Janet and i dated were the most exhilarating i had ever spent with anyone. From the movies to the malls and the parks, we explored everywhere like two giddy teenagers and it was awesome. I learnt all available routes  from Ajah to Iju (Lagosians here will know what i’m talking about) where she was staying , making  the journey (that’s only the proper term for it) without a care and we spent days  getting to know each other. She took time to learn Mortal Kombat with me (She is a pro with Noob Saibot!!)and on weekends, she’d come over to cook, walking around the apartment in those killer bum-shorts of hers.  She wasn’t the perfect girl though, she had her flaws and all but the skoi skoi only made her real to me.
Summary: I was neck deep in the proverbial love which people always talked about and loving it.
Fast forward a month later and i’m ready to call time on my bachelorhood. This was real and i was ready. The only problem was that anytime the topic of visiting the village came up, she’d be strangely quiet and distant. I had asked her several times if there was any issue i had to know about and the answer was always negative.
Family plays a very big role for both of us and we’re very very close to our respective ones.
My folks stay in the village and are very big on tradition. As is the custom with Easterners, i inform them and they’re both ecstatic. They urge me to bring her for a visit soon and commence their enquiries into where she’s from and so on. We’re both from the same state so it makes it much easier for them. Thursday afternoon, I get a call from my dad who urges me to call him back asap. I call him and receive news which makes my world go dark.
From investigations, Janet’s family is “Osu”. The so called “untouchables” while i’m not.
Ladies and gentlemen, despite Christianity and modernity, this unfortunate situation still persists in Igbo culture. The Osu caste system is an often ignored, ancient tradition which affects so many young people in the country till date.
In theory, the “Osu” caste are made up of a small section of society whose ancestral lineage can be traced back to the slaves pledged and often used as sacrifice to the old native gods of the Igbo nation. These slaves and their descendants were presumably cursed and are traditionally regarded as second citizens. Title taking and marital unions with “free born” citizens are totally forbidden.
Personally, i’m marginally aware of it’s existence and couldn’t care less about an archaic tradition but I’m devastated when the ramifications of going against this tradition are fully explained to me.  Ostracization and discrimination from the community, and the biggest blow of all, total family disapproval of any union. In the case of any defiance, a very strong likelihood of your immediate family disowning any “freeborn” who marries an Osu.
Bottom line, as i am gravely informed by my dad, “my dear son, you cannot marry that girl...... it is a taboo and is not possible in our tradition”
Seeing as my three siblings and i were closely raised alongside our extended family, my family means the world to me and that bond has remained unbroken throughout the years. I would literally kill for any of them as i’m sure they would for me.... and hearing my dad speak with that conviction and finality in his voice assures me that this is not something to be taken lightly.
Janet comes over during the weekend and noticing my depressed mood, proceeds to try and cheer me up as only she can with a weird new way of dancing shoki...... Normally i’d be in stitches, but instead i sit her down in order to break the news to her. My intention is so we can discuss what this means to our relationship and see if we can find a way through the mess.
As soon as i mention my family’s findings, to my dismay, she retreats away from me and her body starts to shake in a funny manner.
 “not again....chai, not again” Janet starts muttering and breaks down completely into tears.
For the first time in our relationship, i find out that she’s been keeping something this big away from me. I’m further broken when she later confesses that the families of two previous suitors had rejected her for the same thing.  One had even gone to the extent of taking some priests to plead with his family.
She.had.been.aware.of.this.and.did.not.tell.me!!
If  i’m ever asked to write an essay on the worst day of your life, that Saturday evening has no comparison. She cried  all through the night, asking God  “why me??” and there was virtually nothing i could do to console her.
Not only am i now desperately torn by this situation but Janet has become very withdrawn and has refused to see me since February this year. I learnt from a mutual friend that she had a serious health breakdown and particularly insisted on not seeing me. I’m in literal pain right now and depression is a constant companion.
I’m not really asking for advice but your comments would be appreciated.