Author Archives: Calabarboy

issues

A TRIBUTE TO MY OUTGOING PRESIDENT: YOU SIR, HAVE MY RESPECT.

Goodluck PencilReally, you didn’t have much of a choice because the handwriting was clear that Nigerians needed a change. Not because you didn’t do well, but because the propaganda against you was seethed in the red hot belly of strong alliance that formed from the moment the unexpected knocked on your doors.

Despite the failures of your government, both perceived and real, your nobility breaks through the preponderance of narrow narratives of politics and persuasions that border on the preposterous. I believe you were given to our country as that lonely wall upon which our differences, vexations, animosities, and bile will be nailed to, just to unite us on the common activity of breathing out our devils.

Personally, I do not prefer your leadership style. To this, I have learnt that we are all made different and crafted for a given time, a given setting, and given people. For this, I can see through the heat and mist of my desire, beyond the trifling conveniences of my ignorant learning, to the higher calling of personal graces with which some are endowed.
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issues, Spiritual

DUST OFF THAT BAG

dooney-and-bourke-hobo-bag-black-516956 A few days ago, I was slouching on the bed early in the morning and subjecting my thoughts to The Father when I suddenly noticed a hand bag belonging to my wife neatly tucked in the shoe rack. This is the first time I was paying attention to the location of bag. It is a black, mid-sized, Dooney and Burke hand bag (women will understand the fashion value), and I remember that my wife spent a little bit to acquire this a few years ago. She carried it everywhere and it was probably one of the most precious functional day-to-day fashion asset for her at some point. Today, it is displaced and finds itself among the shoes gathering dust.

Right there, The Father shifted my attention to the bag and as common with Him, taught me within a flashing second what the bag represented in my life. How did such a prized bag, still in a great condition, end up in the wrong place and become unattractive and unnoticed? Something else took its place. Obviously another possession was acquired and all of a sudden this one lost it place and fell out of favour, even though it retains it actual value for which it was initially acquired. What is even more interesting is that the bag has no tears or marks of depreciation.
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Fiction

THE LIFE IN CALABAR – AN INCONSEQUENTIAL SHORT STORY

I drove out of the airport at about 7:15 pm local time on Sunday and was mindful not to cause any delays in the exit lane from the parking lot. The parking receipt had slipped through the space between the driver’s seat and the fancy hand rest. I struggled to squeeze my fat fingers through to where the coloured paper rested while keeping the car in motion since from the rearview mirror there was a convoy of government officials trailing. I was driving a rental car, a small mini sedan which I often drove home from the airport instead of taking the light rail into town and hissing at every stop of the 45 minutes journey. Luckily, my dear friend Esther was manning the final exit gate and she simply waved me on and reminded me “Bros Bee, I’m still waiting for the trip oh!”. “I will call you”, I shouted in response. Call her fire! Ever since I met her at a restaurant in town and told her of my weekend getaway with my wife and friends to Creek Town holiday resort, she has bugged me severally to take her family along the next time I went.

The 1km road from the airport terminates at the ‘Welcome to Calabar’ roundabout, a massive landmark which unites three major expressways leading to the major districts in the City of Calabar. Beautifully constructed and well maintained, I usually take a deep breath when I get to drive around it to remind myself why I love this town. At nights, the dancing streams of water shot from powerful nozzles are coloured by underground lights and quite spectacular to behold. The water acrobatics from the concentric pools move with the rhythm of the local Efik percussions. At Christmas, tourists are usually treated to some elaborate water displays while driving into the city.
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