amazing grace

She is an amazing gift of grace… so it cannot splinter her hopes or silence her courage. She holds within her love's unfathomable ability… so it will not cripple her into loving (even a wretch) conditionally. She is embraced in godly fellowship… so it shall not smother her spirit or corrode her faith.

Good Shepherd be with her as she tries to overcome the snares of this danger because 'tis only your grace, her fears, relieve.

So these were my thoughts and prayers as I spoke to my brother when he called today. Somehow I also kept hearing the words of the The Script… so I began ‘looking for those heroes in the sky’… that ‘teach us how to fly’… in order to beg them to reach down with their convalescent hands and mend her wings with just a touch.

Good Shepherd let your words been her constant lullaby despite the fact that at the moment ‘together we cry…’

So what is this all about?

My brother told me that Aunty Grace was in hospital, recovering from an operation. Confused, I asked why. It was to remove a lump in her chest.

Ali: It’s cancer.

I stayed silent… trying to choke back the tears as my heart broke uneven… but they started to spill gently down… pausing for a moment to caress my cheek… before hitting the ground.

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house of agbada daggers

This post is inspired by Afrobabe (babes, I know you say your mum is a prayer warrior but I said my own prayer for change for ‘3rd brother’).

Her latest post for a ‘solution required!’ got all sorts of comments (babes, for being a good sport about it all, especially with the few that could possibly be viewed as negative, I salute you).

Anyway… my comment at hers was based on her concept of ‘3rd brother’. I chose to depict the chain of events in her post as a scene in a chinese film (yep for the sake of authenticity, I even threw in the out of sync voice over)… thankfully she took it as intended & saw the funny side!

In the same way, let me introduce you to my family… ours is the ‘House of Agbada Daggers’… I actually prefer the ‘House of Flying Jalabias’… it sounds way cooler but we are yoruba & correctly proud of it.

The ‘House of Agbada Daggers’ follows many rules. One of which is ‘honour’… it is key. The family honour must be protected at all times. As a result all members of our house do not take any criticism of any of its other members well from outsiders. To us it is a declaration of war. We have waged many successful campaigns because we follow the mantra of military ‘qi’.

We are not stupid though… in any situation after this has happened; ‘the defender’ will haul ‘the accused’ into the dock. ‘The jury’ is called & seated. Then judgement begins. I hated the family meetings because the sentences were quite demoralising. I learned a lesson from them sha… I got... correction… we all got smarter with our antics.

Anyway… ours is a house of six ruling members… I say ruling because it is rare for any of us to back down from our convictions. I digress...

There is Baba, Mãe, Ade, Ali, Shubby Doo and ATA.

Baba aka Emperor aka Old Master Bo
Baba was an air force officer. Despite his usual gra-gra, to all his children he would say ‘take it easy… fi ara ba le’. These words were always accompanied with a hand gesture that indicated the same. My father taught me the lesson of silence…a wise man takes time to listen…it is especially important if one has nothing intelligent to say.

Old Master Bo: Flying Snow, anybody can be heard; but to be understood one must to know right words to use. 1st acquire knowledge about your subject and then your audience. Remember ‘a little impatience will spoil great plans.’

My father once found out that Ade was caught sneaking out of school. He did not deal with this immediately; instead he ruined the holiday for my brother because Ade was left to stew in the fear of the unknown for its entirety. With 2 days to go, my father woke him up at 5:30am and told him to get dressed (note that he didn’t say brush, baff and get dressed o!). Ade was ready, at the front door, in less than 5 mins. They went out for a walk. While they were out he told him this.

Old Master Bo: Li Mu Bai, I am not happy about your behaviour because you should have been in school. But I am not angry that you snuck out. I am angry that you got caught. My son, now I hope that ‘a fall into a ditch makes you wiser’.

Mãe aka Empress aka Jade Fox aka The Governess
I am very much like my mother… we can smell a rat from a distance. However, our methods of execution are very different. She tends to act swiftly; setting up a cunning trap. The furore around her kill is normally quite dramatic.

My mother found out about the true nature of my relationship with Ludriness when she called me at school. I had a deal with my house mistress who decided to take that particular night off. Her substitute told my mother that I was spending the w/e away and that she had signed the form (yes o! I faked her signature). My mother made no fuss; she simply asked for a contact number and called. Luridness picked up. She never told my father of my deception but I was greeted with some serious slaps when I got home.

The Governess: Are you sleeping with him? Is this why I sent you to school? Your life is ahead of you or is it that you want to ruin it? By doing this you are ‘binding your feet to prevent progress’.

After my tears, there were more questions. With my answers she concluded that Luridness was not the best for me (does my Mãe have a spooky sixth sense or what?!)

Ade aka Crown Prince aka Li Mu Bai
Ade was the prime source of family meetings. As a young teenager, he indulged in the usual drinking and man chasing woman wrapper business. He always stayed out late and came back during the early hours of dawn. It drove my mother crazy; somehow my dad remained calm. He sat my brother down to explain something simple to him.

Old Master Bo: Li Mu Bai, you are young and your exuberance is telling you to seize every opportune moment but don’t over do this… a she ju man pa yon. It is not right to be ‘adding the legs while painting a snake’.

As Ade grew older he chose to hover in between the young and old because he felt that his duty as first born demanded it. He reigned supreme in the absence of our parents but shielded us a lot from our mother’s rantings. Ade got a thick skin for it. However, it was not bullet proof so like Neo he learned to dodge with skill. Suddenly, despite his usual exploits, the family meetings became more about Ali, ATA, and I. I paid attention and realised his plan; diversionary tactics. Egbon was taking style to betray us to our parents to keep the heat of him…Kai! It had to stop. I gathered the others together to discuss the situation.

Flying Snow: All we have to do is figure out his plan to know his next move. ‘When the map is unrolled, the dagger is revealed’. There are three of us. Eyin boys e ja ka so owo po. If we stand together united, ‘three people can make up a tiger’.

These days when Ade sees me he smiles. He calls out ‘ringleader don land. lil’ sis how now?’ or ‘kaisho, oyabun of all oyabun’. I laugh.

Ali aka 2nd Son aka Young Prince aka Jin
Ali and I are very very close but the guy knows how to wind me up…big time. There is this thing he does with his hands and eyes that still fucks me off till today. If anybody else tries it and I’m cool; totally unfazed but with Ali I loose it completely. My family finds the whole scene hilarious.

Ali terrorised me as a kid. In turn, I took great pleasure watching him being punished. I developed a particular wail that became universally recognised as a cry for help (a bit like the signal in batman…lol).

As kids, my presence antagonised him & I just didn’t understand why he always went for me. Apparently to him I was the younger sister who had betrayed him before I learnt to speak. The story goes that he came to play with me as a toddler and I smashed a battery over his head….LMAOOO (secretly I’m happy I got the first jab in but officially I’m still blaming muscle spasm). As kids, my parents always told me to leave him alone.

The Governess: Flying Snow we’ve bought you a new Ballerina Barbie doll. Leave Jin alone, ‘a rat who gnaws at a cat's tail invites destruction.’

Barbie, Ken and Skipper were great distractions in the short term but in the end I just wanted to hang with my older bro.

One time, a day after ATA’s naming ceremony, I was outside playing and I saw Ali pick up a knife that had been used to kill the malu. It was clean. He put it into the fire. Then, with a devilish glint in his eye, he turned and called me…I skipped over. He placed the hot blade on my neck and burnt me. My mother beat the sheggae out of him (thank you again God for this skin of mine that heals really well because I don’t have a scar despite Ali’s assault).

Although I have always loved him dearly, Ali is one of my inspirations for taking up kung fu for a year with a real shaolin monk after uni (no joke!). I also learnt to run fast because of him and every time I see him, I remember my unbeaten season at 200m sprints with pride.

Shubby Doo aka Princess aka Flying Snow
You know me a little already… through my blog… this is my look inward within an enclosure of boundless space… it is my interpretation of me. I am not quite sure why I blog but I do know that ‘a bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song’. I am Flying Snow.

ATA aka 3rd Son aka Small Prince aka Shinobi aka Nameless
ATA and I are extremely close. His is my protégé. For my every action, ATA can describe the thought process behind my decision. He decided to study engineering too; although, our chosen dialects are different. He also took up martial arts (kempo karate) but he did it for many years. ATA is the silent assassin of the house.

When ATA was younger, to all his questions I would reply ‘I will tell you when you are older’ (yeah right!... like either he or I would remember… I just wanted the little brat out of my way... funny how history repeats itself but this time my intolerance of him was because he wasn't born a girl!). He too didn’t like being ignored/ or dismissed. I think it was one of the reasons that he consciously chose to be the best of all of us (as he saw us); he is brighter than me, he is stronger than Ali and he is wiser than Ade.

With time the age gap between all of us has reduced and we are all much closer. We are also quite close because Ade, Ali, ATA and I used to run around hitting each other as kids (and well beyond those years). The aim of this game of endearment was simple… strike the deadliest blow and then seek cover. While the victim writhed in pain, the assailant would comment hysterically on the effectiveness of the strike.

Due to my gender and his youth, ATA and I played tag team… but not always… within the ‘House of Agbada Daggers’ when the heat was on you were on your own. One day, I landed one on ATA just after we’d just dealt with Ali together. When I saw the confusion in his eyes, I could no longer keep a straight face… I collapsed laughing. ATA calmly walked over, picked me up and floored me. I was stunned… my 13 year old little brother ke?… na lie!... I wanted a rematch (very dumb idea I know but the small boy had just chanced me!). ATA did it again. His take down was just too quick so I cannot tell you his exact move (perhaps some sort of suflex). I can tell you that Ali just stood there, and nearly pissed himself with laughter. Ade learnt about this and sat me down.

Li Mu Bai: Flying Snow you are older but you are a girl… your age made you forget that he was learning new techniques to prove himself as a match for us in various ways… your attitude towards Nameless was wrong… remember that ‘the arrogant army will lose the battle for sure.’ My approach to him will now be different thanks to you. Senior boy thinking is now needed for the kid to ensure he does not ‘out-gun’ us.

How very true… last week ATA sent me a text and then I called him.

ATA: Na wah for this your need to bond o!
Shubby Doo: Eh?!
ATA: Why do you always call me when I text you?
Shubby Doo: You asked me for some info and you are now opening your mouth to complain about my method of delivery. This kid, you’re not a serious human being.
ATA: Hahaha… cheers sis. But you know that once I have this PhD, you must start calling me Dr ATA sha.
Shubby Doo: Love you lil’ bro but dream on... no forget say ‘okra no dey grow pass im master’ … hahaha.

You now have an insight into the members of the ‘House of Agbada Daggers’.

Proceed & comment but beware of our ‘honour’.

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sex, lies &...1. blueberries

Did you know that blueberries are false berries?...apparently these types of fruits are found in plant species with an inferior ovary. However, true berries such as gooseberries, have an edible pulp.

I have met many people in life that want me to ingest their modified pepoes... or their falsehood... and like it. They think by packaging their inferiorities as something sweet, bright and juicy I will not recognise what they have tried to force down my throat. I think it is a shame that they fail to understand that had they given me the choice I might have enjoyed the simple truth better.

In my second year at university, I moved out of halls and started living with three other girls; Chixster was igbo but the rest of us were yoruba.

Let me start with introductions.

1stly, there was Bubbles. She was the youngest. Bubbles was just really sweet.

2ndly, there was Owambe. She was only months younger than me. I have to applaud Owambe…she went from a british size 20 to a size 12 (american size 8) over a period of four years…a mean feat. But her years of being ‘heavy’ meant she had issues…no, she wasn’t some sort of evil…no, she wasn’t inhumanly wicked or cruel…she just desperately wanted to feel among.

I loved the fact that Owambe tried to follow the latest trends and rock the latest designer gear but sadly she didn’t have the persona to carry off loud and quirky colours…nor did she put her outfits together well. Ladies one should know one’s own frame and by a certain age one should know how best to work with that frame to look good. Sadly, Owambe did not dress to maximise her new found frame…the girl was constantly adjusting her clothes that were too tight or pulling down her skirts that were too way short in public. I tried to give her some helpful suggestions but she made it clear that it wasn’t needed. I thought ‘nothing spoil’...not for me anyway...lol.

I found that Owambe was always looking to be the centre of attention…her advice was instructional…her ideas were best…she wanted to rule the roost. I don’t do ‘you are the boss of me’ well so when she started that nonsense I was like ‘abeg get out’. I guess it didn’t help her complex that Bubbles, Chixster and I refused to let her ego rise with us…anything she wanted to show off about was something or somewhere that Bubbles, Chixster or I could say ‘been there, done that and got the t-shirt’ to.

Anyway back to the intros…

Lastly, there was Chixster. She was the slimmest, the prettiest and the kindest…she was genuinely kind. Chixster was constantly worrying about everybody... as our mother hen, to some extent she looked after us. I got on with Chixtser the most because she seemed like a ‘straight shooting’ and ‘to the point’ kinda gal. She was slightly older than me by about two years but she knew how to have fun.

As girls do, we often gathered in Chixster’s room at night to gist. Sometimes we would stay there all night and leave just before the arrival of the morning rays of amber. On one late starry starry night, the topic turned to sex.

Chixster: What do you think about sex?

I decided to take a philosophical approach and said:

Shubby Doo: It is necessary. It can result in life. Creation of life is God’s gift. I think it is amazing that it is a very small way for human beings to really get to actually resemble their creator.

Owambe chose the more common Christian approach and followed with:

Owambe: As a born again, I don’t believe in sex before marriage. I think people should only have the sex after.

Bubbles: Me too I guess. It is not really right.

Eh? I looked from one to the other… I felt like I was in the twilight zone and in this alternate universe standard naija babes were trying to sell me tory! … na lie! I didn’t start the conversation…plus my initial answer hadn’t turned it in this particular direction…but now we where here, I just couldn’t help thinking ‘bloody pretenders!’.

I laughed.

Shubby Doo: Really…you do? hmmm…I guess I was brought up to believe that too but in reality I don’t think it is that simple.

Owambe: It is. Abstinence is not impossible.

Shubby Doo: I agree. It is not impossible. But when two people are together in the heat of the moment it is not easy not to give in to it...especially when those two people think they are in love...or are you saying that you haven’t had sex ever Owambe?

Silence.

Shubby Doo: you nko, Bubbles?

I knew Bubbles she was no saint. My brother had a big problem with us living together because she had been with more than a few naija guys at his university. Bubbles was ‘one of the regulars’. As he tended to live by the rule ‘each to their own’ he’d never been interested in judging her behaviour. He was trying to support my decision to live with whomever I chose but he had issues with us flat sharing...basically because when ‘awon boys’ came visiting to knack Bubbles and he didn’t want anybody implying that it was his little sister that had entertained.

I assured my brother that there was no problem because:

1. I had just come out of a long relationship that had been pretty serious. I wasn't looking to play the rebound game.

2. I said that I'd be ok...I knew how to handle such guys if they did turn up at ours...I'd use the steely resolve that I inherited from my mother...plus he had prepared me well as only an older brother could.

3. Bubbles was now in a committed relationship with Ayo (whom she did eventually marry) so I doubted she would be soliciting illicit visits.

I never mentioned my brother’s concerns to Bubbles because as long as she didn’t make it a problem for me, there was no problem.

But now Bubbles was claiming that sex was only suited for marriage.... hmmm...

Shubby Doo: Bubbles you no dey talk…abi wetin?

Bubbles: I think it is better in marriage.

Shubby Doo: I agree with you whole heartedly but are you saying that you haven’t had sex?

Chixster: I think sex should be with someone you love. Ideally, that commitment comes in marriage.

Bubbles: I agree with Chixster.

I was thinking to myself ‘chai!...these girls just dey dodge my question’…when I heard:

Owambe: As strong Christians, Segs and I have promised ourselves that we will only have sex when we are married. I say no to sex.

I thought ‘Owambe shut up!’. The babe was lying.

Don’t get me wrong…I understand that everybody lies…but if you cannot lie well, my advice is keep it simple or better yet keep quiet & don’t try. If you want to lie to me put some work into it…your story must be robust and your actions must support your story. Not just on the day you spin your tale but forever…I must never be able to pick holes in it…and before you start, you should remember that in time the truth tends to prevail.

In my humble opinion, Owambe’s actions did not support her words. Her room was next to mine so whenever her boyfriend Segs came to spend the weekend, the following would always happen.

12:00am: Owambe and Segs say goodnight.
They enter her room and close the door.

12:10am: I hear her bed springs squeaking…
I would laugh. This was like the tonal work of the string section of the orchestra playing the sonata...it signified the 1st movement of the great symphony to come….

12:15am: Owambe starts giggling.
From time to time Segs laughs loudly.

12:20am: I hear someone lock the door to Owambe’s room with a key.

12:25am: I hear soft moans…
Followed by faint promises of sweet nothings…
Then I hear groans...
I would laugh to myself again. This had to be the ternary movement of the symphony…but why had they re-arranged the order of this classic orchestra piece?… why had they skipped from the 1st movement to the 3rd movement and missed the slow movement?…

12:30am: I hear very, very, VERY loud music blasting out of Owambe’s room.

I have a fertile imagination… so to be fair I am now taking this opportunity to ask all the people reading this…what you think happened in that room next?

Just to help you make up your minds I’ll just say that I also remember that loud music from Owambe’s deck used to wake me up on Saturday mornings too but only if her boo was there with her.

I now realised these babes were true impressionists…they were trying to paint a work of art...they were using movement as the crucial element to distract me so that I wouldn’t focus on ‘the truth’…so I would simply believe what they portrayed as truth. I guess if people don’t see the real you from the obvious visual angles they may just catch a glimpse of a distorted image...one that seems amazing or remarkably refreshing. Well it wasn't working with me...their words just annoyed and irritated me…my mama no born mumu…

I smiled.

Shubby Doo: I think that is so sweet Owambe…to know that all you and Segs do is kiss and cuddle all night… on that small single bed…to loud music that starts at midnight and is on for at least 45 mins…That is love o!

Bubbles laughed out loud.

Shubby Doo: Bubbles I guess that is what you and Ayo do too abi? That is so sweet.

Bubbles: Ok. Let me fess us…surprise, surprise…I’ve had sex.

I was not surprised but I was happy that she had come clean…eventually.

Shubby Doo: Thank you for your honesty. Oya come and sit next to me as we are the only two sinners in this house. We have confessed our sins to God today again in the presence of Owambe and Chixster. Don’t worry confession is part of the Christian faith and practice. All will be well.

Chixster: I guess there is nothing wrong with having sex if you are in love and you are committed to each other…it does not have to be in wedlock despite what naija society tends to dictate but it is preferable.

Shubby Doo: I agree.

I was still wondering why Chixster had chosen to use those particular words...she still had not revealed...when I heard:

Owambe: Segs and I have made love...but we have decided to abstain now until we get married.

Made love ke?…you mean fucked each others brains out while you deafened me! Whatever sha…a confession is still a confession and I am not an enemy of any type of progress that results in the truth. In my mind it was not the whole truth because she was still claiming she wasn't ‘at it’ anymore...but I was happy that she could no longer look me in the eye and start her ‘hypocritical’ crap. The really sad thing is I don’t think she was ever really ‘trying’ to be even be living embodiment of her words…for her it was always about keeping up appearances and trying to say the right things so people could like her and listen to her.

Chixster stayed silent…then she excused herself and she left her own room to make a phone call on her mobile phone…

About 18 months later, Chixster started dating my brother (not the one that had had the problem with Bubbles)…their relationship lasted about 6 months…they were happy-ish but they knew it wouldn’t work when she decided to move to another country so they called it quits.

After they broke up he told me, he was not her first…she was experienced…from way back. I said nothing because I wasn’t shocked by it but his words somehow made me feel let down by her...there had been no need for the illusion. I guess some people simply choose not to share...I do understand that.

I have thought about this some more since then and after all these years I have realised something... as sung by Don McLean in ‘Vincent’, I just want to say that by starting the conversation and by walking out of your room, Chixster “…now I understand what you tried to say to me...”

My brother ended the conversation with a simple admission…Chixster was a bit of a ‘sex fiend’.

Nuff said!

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T5

5th June…today all British Airways flights between Heathrow and Nigeria move to the dreaded Terminal 5…This post is to mark the occasion.

Will Nigerians suffer the jinx of T5?…I suspect some will fall prey to that place…I have. I don’t fly British Airways to Nigeria because I don’t like wahala…I believe in a stress free life so if anything or anybody tries to compromise that they get cast aside...case in point – British Airways.

I loved British Caledonia when I was younger but when they stopped my family switched to British Airways. About 3 years ago I refused to spend money on the disrespect and the poor service on the London to Lagos BA route so I switched to Virgin Atlantic…no regrets so far.

At this point I have to confess that about 1 month before I travelled I received an invite to join one of those never fly British Airways or boycott flying British Airways groups on facebook. I simply clicked ‘confirm’ without thinking about it twice. If you are Nigerian you will guess why…if not, the antics of ‘brutish airways’ are summarised perfectly in Solomonsydelle's blogs.

At this point I also have to confess to a dual truth…I still tend to use British Airways 2 fly everywhere else.

I think God wanted me to test out this dichotomy…I think I knew inside…somewhere deep down I would fall foul of this one day…such beliefs cannot co-exist in one person.

I’ll start with a song by R Kelly that described how I was feeling when I woke up that day:

‘…I believe I can fly
I believe I can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread my wings and fly away
I believe I can soar
I see me running through that open door …’

I believed I could fly…twice in one day…British Airways did not…the cretins at Terminal 5 slammed the door firmly in my face and then lost my luggage. At that moment my brain scattered…I was confused and tired…but mostly confused.

Rewind back to how my day had started…well…in Ikoyi. Nepa was behaving so the generator hadn’t disturbed my sleep. We thank God o!

I stepped out of bed. I couldn’t walk properly…my feet were on fire…I laughed as a remembered dancing at my aunt’s ‘birthday do’ in 4 inch heels…i love family functions like that...so i thought no long thing. I showered and dressed. I put on a cute pair of hoop earrings. Then packed, had breakfast and said my goodbyes.

I got in the car & gave the driver his ‘dash’…normally I do this at the airport but for some reason that day I gave him the money at the house. I think that the generosity sent Wale into some sort of euphoria. However, his joy started the run of bad luck that stayed with me the whole day.

Forewarning 1 – in an attempt to avoid the morning traffic in oshodi, Wale started diverting left, right and centre…this shortcut and then that shortcut…he would then loose his bearings and take the wrong turns. At one point I realised we were headed back to ikoyi. I lost it then…suffice to say I yelled at him to disengage all the loose wires short circuiting in his brain and follow the directions I gave. I routed us back through oshodi to get to the airport.

Forewarning 2 – My Baba was furious. He was at the airport and he’d been waiting since 7:30am. He needed to hand over some documents to me. It was now 8:15am and I was not there. He called me:

Baba: Where are you?
Shubby Doo: Good morning sir. I’m in the car to the airport
Baba: Where are you? What is your estimated time of arrival?
Shubby Doo: I’m not sure sir…we are stuck in traffic in oshodi
Baba: Why are you behaving like this?…awon uncle and aunty sachs are here already…oshodi ke? Why did you go that way? Kilode…Shubby Doo why are doing this today?

Me ke?

At that point, I tried to cut in to explain. He hung up…ha!!!…not a good sign…not a good sign at all.

My dad is a retired Air force officer and 1 minute late is unacceptable. He kept calling me every 2mins after that but I was too afraid to pick up…I got 14 missed calls from his number. I focused on just getting Wale to the airport…

Forewarning 3 – I faced my Baba’s wrath at the airport…I greeted him and he threatened to go military on me…lol…I laugh now but he did use those exact words…on hearing this, I ducked away, greeted uncle and aunty sachs and went to check in.

Forewarning 4 – When I got to the gate to board my flight I realised I couldn’t find my boarding pass and Nigerian passport in my handbag…my Baba has special privileges...it means he can stroll through most of Murtala Mohammed…so you guessed it…he was there when I discovered I longer had my particulars.

Baba: What is it?
Shubby Doo: I can’t find my nigerian passport and boarding pass
Baba: Not possible
Shubby Doo: I don’t have it. I’ve checked
Baba: Can you use your British Passport?
Shubby Doo: I can’t. It has no Nigerian visa on it. Plus I don’t have my boarding pass

My father just looked at me with contempt. I rushed back to the lounge. I searched…no passport or boarding pass. I returned to where my father was seated.

Baba: Did you find it?
Shubby Doo: No

For some reason I decided to check my laptop bag...thank God...it had my naija passport and boarding pass inside it. At that moment, I swear if looks could kill, the expression on my Baba’s face would have vaporised me.

Baba: You cannot be doing this...ara reo bale! You must always know where everything is kept. You need to be organised. How many times have I told you this? This could have been very embarrassing
Shubby Doo: Sorry sir
Baba: If it is work that is making you confused…

I apologised again, thanked him, disappeared through the gate and boarded my Virgin Atlantic flight to London.

The flight was fine. I called my younger brother to help me check in online for my British Airways connecting flight when I landed. He did. I got my bags within 10mins, said good bye to uncle and aunt sachs and headed for arrivals. I saw my older brother and we raced from T3 to T5.

I got there & started to repack some things into a new smaller case. My phone rang…it was my mother calling from Nigeria.

Shubby Doo: Hello Mãe
Mãe: My dear, how are u?
Shubby Doo: I’m fine Mãe. I got in safe at sound. We are at T5. I’m just repacking…I can’t talk but hold on
Mãe: Shubby Doo…Shubby Doo…wait…just listen…

I didn’t. I passed phone to my brother who explained that I had 10mins left to repack and drop my bags off.

Forewarning 5 – when my brother hung up he told me that my mother had said I was not to check in any of my bags because of the T5 fiasco.

Forewarning 6 – There was something wrong with the handle of the small suitcase so I had to take the bag to ‘oversize’...yes o! against my mother's correct advice, I checked in my small case (with my flat keys, my car keys et al).

Forewarning 7 – My brother told me to go through to the departure lounge straight away. I said I’d rather sit down, relax and jist small. I started telling him about my trip to Lagos.

With 30mins to go, I waved goodbye to my brother headed to security…the guy asked for my boarding pass. I gave it to him. He asked for ID. I handed over my driving license…I was still smiling and humming to myself in my head…yes o! I was humming I believe I can fly! He swiped my boarding pass…I stood there and waited for him to take my picture...to myself i thought strike a pose... lol...he still had not let me through security for my domestic flight...why? I gave him a puzzled look...he simply said “I’m sorry. Your boarding pass is invalid.”

Invalid ke? Not possible.

At the British Airways desk…they told me that I missed the 35mins deadline to get through security. None one told me that. My ticket conditions said check in 60mins prior the flight and baggage drop 45mins prior to the flight. British Airways didn’t care. Apparently they had already off loaded my case too. There was no way I was getting on that flight.

The test had failed...or maybe I had failed the test...

I sighed. I called my colleagues and told them not to come to Manchester airport to pick me up. I wouldn’t be there.

I went down to baggage reclaim to get my case… it was still in the system and they were trying to find it. They couldn’t estimate when I would get it. I was weak...

The guy at the desk felt sorry for me…he kept telephoning people to help…they kept saying they weren’t trained to use the system to check for my case...how?! My blood began to boil...

I needed to be in Manchester for 8am tomorrow. I could catch a coach to my place and then drive. No…I didn’t have my flat or car keys! Any fix to my dilemma needed something I had packed away in the case that was now lost in the system. I should have listened to my Ma’a.

I called my boss and told him I had missed my flight…could I take a hire car?…he said yes but as it was now 8pm I should consider taking a taxi to Manchester instead…I was to find a way to get to Manchester by all means.

At 8:30pm I got a text from my boss saying ‘I hope you are enjoying having the time to inspect T5’s excellent baggage system’…I swear if he wasn’t the company director I would have called him and finished him…

By now tears were welling up in my eyes but I was too tired to cry. I was emotional and cranky. I was about to explode and I needed an outlet for my frustration that wouldn’t land me in jail.

I wanted to call home...‘Home’, when my siblings & I are talking to each other, automatically means our parents place…I moved out right after I graduated and now live just outside London.

But I didn’t call home...my ears started ringing with my father’s foreboding voice from earlier… I don’t do ‘I told you so’ very well.

My brother called me at 9pm...had I landed safe and sound? I said yes...irrational I know but I just couldn't tell him what was going on without breaking down...

At 9:30pm…I gave the guy at the British Airways baggage reclaim desk my work address so that they could deliver my case there…he said it would get there the next day…yeah right!…It actually arrived 2 days later! To keep me calm he started trying to console me…I would get my bag back…a lady yesterday had waited for her bags but she got them back after 3 hours…opari!…my blood pressure started rising again.

At 9:45pm…the British Airways desk at T5 closed and I still didn’t have my luggage.

I called a number of taxi companies… it would be about £450 to get to Manchester…Since I had cleared it with my boss I knew the company were going to pay me back but saying yes meant I would have to get cash out of my account and wait 1 month to be paid back. No way!

At this point I have to thank the guy at the baggage reclaim desk…he had called a taxi firm British Airways use and priced it down to £240…I called the number and booked the taxi. It arrived at 10:45pm.

I called my colleague in manchester...I wanted him to tell the hotel that I was still coming…I didn’t want to get there and find I had nowhere to sleep. Plus I sent him a text with the car registration number of the taxi that had picked me up…if anything happened to me the driver would at least stand trial…if not go to jail. Plus I came right out & told the taxi driver what I’d done and why I had done it lest he got any funny ideas…

I got to the hotel in Manchester at 01:45am.

This is the clincher…with no change of clothes I went to the presentation in the same clothes I’d been wearing the day before…can you imagine?!...I’m a consultant, participating in a whole day presentation with our biggest client...potentially this alliance could bring in 10s of millions (sterling) for us annually...everybody else was looking sharp in their suits but I turn up in low rise blue jeans and a ‘off the shoulder’ white and pink pokerdot top! Oh…the shame!!! I took off the hoop earrings sha!

I called a close family friend of mine to recount this tale to her…this is why I love her to bits:

The Doctor: My sista, welcome back. how now? How was naij?
Shubby Doo: I dey o! That part was fine. It was the journey back. Heathrow T5...
The Doctor: Sounds ominous…what happened?
Shubby Doo: They bounced me...can you imagine?...said I needed to be through security 35mins before my flight. I was 5mins late. They no even give me face
The Doctor: Walai…they did that to me too…I lost over £200 and had buy another ticket to Scotland
Shubby Doo: Kai! Pele my dear but why didn’t you tell me? When?
The Doctor: About 6 weeks ago. Walai talai. I was traumatised by the whole thing. I wanted to start rushing about to see if I could get on the next flight to get to work the next day but then I thought there is no need. No need at all. They will survive without me. Life will go on.

Now why didn’t I think of that?!!

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