Tag Archives: novel

Why you should NEVER let Igbo parents know you are writing a novel.

They go crazy.

I don’t mean your normal parental give-you-a-used-broom-to-take-to-school-for-MOSAI crazy. I mean full-on LOCO PARENTIS – yes, I know this is not what it means, but it’s a pun so it stays.

First, my father. He calls me up day before yesterday on some random thing and just when I begin to wonder what the conversation is really about, he clears his throat.

Ahem! So…how is that book you’re writing?”

“Fine, fine.”

“Yes, yes. Good. You know you have to hurry up and finish it and then you can do your PhD and when you finish that you will start chasing your professorship. You know the path you have chosen…it is not…it is not…errrr…like medicine or law. So, you have to go into academia…”


“Well,” he continued “Ah ha ha ha. Maybe you and your husband will decide something else. This is just a father’s wish.”

Then today my mother arrives en-route to somewhere else. After I serve her lunch…

So,” she said in Igbo “Have you finished that book you are writing?”

“It’s there in that big envelope by the chair if you want to take a look at it.”

“Ah,” she reached down. “What is ‘Rekke’?” I explained, even as I watched her eyes glaze over. “Onye kwanu kalu ya red red n’ile a?” she asked when she opened the first page.

“I did. I use the red pen for corrections before I type them up.”

“Mbu so akwukwo. It’s a lot.”

“That’s not the whole thing, that is just the bit I have edited.”

“Ah.” She looked in the envelope. Slowly she started pushing the sheaf in her hands back in. “God will help you o.”

Yes, I do believe God will help me.

The last time I checked, my father was planning a book launch.

(Not quite) weekend ramblings: Summer is finally here!

  •  I really shouldn’t neglect my blog so much. I mean, I do think up quite a lot of new stuff to put it in while I am in the shower – why do all good things happen in there anyway? Seriously, I need to invent some kind of pad that attaches to my shower stall in which I can jot down all my ideas as they come – but life gets in the way as soon as I step out and I get sucked into the vortex.

  •  I am doing quite well with edits for my book, but sadly I am not going as fast as I would like. I pore over every minute detail – which I suppose is as should be – that I think the book might be done much later now. Besides, I have been advised to delay the launch till after the Olympics. Apparently people will not buy/read it. Who knew?

  • Olololo, see the number of umu akpu obi going shirtless all over the street. Do they not know that I am a married woman, eh? One who is a serious writer for that matter and must not be distracted by…by..ahem! See these smalling boys o! Chukwu nalu ekwensu ike.
  • What are small-small children doing fornicating on the street? This photo was taken from two weeks ago. I still cannot get my head around it:

What are these smalling children doing eh? See them, still in their school uniforms, just messing around. And for what?

*** In case you cannot see, there are three (black) girls to three (white) boys. The couple by the tables lay down, the girl between the boy’s legs at some point. The girl had the chest of a thirty-year-old and the braces of a twelve-year-old. The hidden set is of a boy sitting on a bench, trying to convince the another girl to ‘have a go’ because their friends – the obvious couple – were snogging. (Granted, I imagined this bit.)

The girl in green arrived last with another boy. She kept her distance,preferring to swing by herself. The girl in white you can see, is the snogger. ***

And while my liberal self rejoices at such uniformed interracial-ism, I cannot help but wonder, in such an unequal world (males above females, white ‘above’ black), if there was to be a scandal who would find themselves the losers? Please if you have daughters, pick their ears very well. A young, black girl is already twice ‘disadvantaged’ in society.

  • In fact, I am vexed now. In the playground? Where did they expect me to look? I mean, even I, who knows exactly what to do with a man in my lair (and have biblical right to do so, oh yes!) was forced to avert my gaze. Issorai.
  • I am not bikini ready. In fact, I have never worn a bikini in my life. To me, it’s false advertising. What of I’m prancing about in my bikini and someone decides to give me a shove into the pool? I can’t swim.

  • I defy anyone to eye my unshaven legs on the bus this summer. In my country, my hairy legs are very hot among men of my tribe. All boys avert your gaze! These are for men only…well, now one man. Anyway, avert!
  • I wish I could swim. I guess I am going to have to settle for a shower. Man it’s hot.