A hand of fellowship

A handshake is a greeting, an expression of trust, a mutual guarantee by two people that at least in one hand, they carry no weapon but it can also ensure a measure of distance and convey an articulation of reserve as if its participants are thinking, thus far and no further...in one short sentence, a handshake is not a hug.

The new Matriarch of the Adagiri extended family had come visiting us with the proverbial olive branch in hand to commiserate with us over the loss of our home as read in TSUNAMI but of course, we knew better than to take such words to heart but chose to quietly listen anyway. She prevailed on us to be patient with the family as regards inheritance, knowing now was a crucial time we needed money. Mom was quite surprised as she was typically expecting the Matriarch to rain fire and brimstone on her for daring to get a loan using her late brother's house as collateral, the non-payment leading to the loss of the house even though the house is legally Mom's after Dad's demise. Mom simply nodded and thanked the Matriarch for her concern, she thereafter settled down and engaged us in a bit of chitchat where she learned it was going to be QT's birthday the next day and we had no idea what to do for him...actually, I was the one who let that slip with the hope she would sponsor a treat for him, I blurted out after she asked what we were up to,

"Well, ma'am, we are quite well, obviously trying to cope in light of recent events...we had even made plans way ahead of time to celebrate Qatari's birthday which is  tomorrow but now....it's all gone to cinders with our home gone"

Spine of steel

I was busy with the preparation of food for dinner, chopping vegetables, onions, et al when Karl walked briskly into the kitchen where I was, held me from behind by ringing his arms around my waist, grinding his bulge against my thighs and giving me a peck behind my earlobe as I swiftly turned to look at him, wondering if he was high. His hair tousled beautifully in a bed mess, he retreated from me and asked if I liked it,

"What? Karl? Are you alright? Ofcourse not I didn't like that, you sure you okay?"

Jupiter's cock!

Peter is a rather ubiquitous young lad who's spontaneous and quite fun to be with and a friend of Hamz's.

One chilly saturday morning, after a heavy downpour with droplets of rain still drizzling, Mom went out with QT and Karl to inspect a plot of land which she plans to cultivate into a farmland leaving just myself and Hamz alone at home when Peter, in company of a group of other young guys who are also friends of Hamz came visiting.

 Even though I'm noted amongst my siblings not to get chatty with my siblings' friends, the guys somehow roped me into their conversations and I found my stone cold facial appearance that morning gradually thawing into a cheerful face as I flowed with their conversations and after about thirty minutes of non-stop banter, we all decided to play a game of truth and dare with Peter drafting the game's rules with penalties attached to each rule which were meant to be awkward, uncomfortable and outright embarrassing... Apparently, this looks like it's going to be fun.

The enemy within

"You know...I spoke with my friend mama tahir this evening and she was pouring her heart out to me...about how her siblings and extended family despise her so much despite doing a lot for them, helping them with school fees for their kids, sending food supplies, living expenses, etc, she just can't believe this is happening to her"

Mom said in a conversation with Aunt Hubaida one early tuesday evening about her friend Raliat also known as Mama tahir who is a wealthy cloth merchant in Lagos, to which Aunt Hubaida scoffed almost with indignation and responded,

"Well, one couldn't say exactly what transpired between them as we both weren't present nor hear from the other parties, am sure her siblings must have their reasons"

Mom's eyes squinted, apparently puzzled and asked what Hubaida meant, she responded,

 "It's as I said it because from my own experience, I can tell that sometimes, it's the richer sibling that could be guilty, more often than not"

Mom's facial expression immediately changed from bewilderment to seething fire, she swiftly responded,

The solomon of settlement

Wayne Schubard is a close talker, a lawyer who represents *Dynamo corporations- a fledging  automobile company in the united states already doing quite well in the industry- and who doubles as the company's treasury department executive for compensation and accrued dividends payout, is a white, quite plumpy man in his mid 40s with a fast receding hairline preceding a sparse mop of straight black short hair with a sprinkling of grey locks with lines etched finely by the sides of his eyes and upper cheek bone who starts his sentences about 47 cm from your face and with a rather thick husky voice, leans in to make his point.

This is an unusual trait for a guy who has to deliver the type of news that most of us would prefer to dispense from across the room or better yet, by an email from a do-not-reply address as part of his duties is to fire members of their staff, buy out little company rivals and merge it with *Dynamo automobile as well as stated above, in charge of paying compensation and accrued dividends which is about the only nice part of his job.

"...Dollars are a surrogate for worth"

 He says to us, leaning in as usual, to end a long introductory speech which pretty much was advertising his own skills and expertise at what he does after dismissing a set of family before attending to us.

 "So, you're Habiba Adagiri, am I correct...with... um.. the pronunciation?"

 He said, referring to Mom as he raised his head from a paper he was reading from to look at her then pointing at Nicole, he says he reckons she's Nicole to which she affirms with an emphatic positive nod. Wayne cleared his throat, adjusted his grey jacket and sitting position as he got ready to go into business.

"So your late husband, made some.."

Skirmishes in persia!

It had been a rather tumultuous week for us all... Musa, the agent of the house where we are temporarily putting up in had been constantly harassing us for money, using us as his cash cow. He would smoke weed and get high then come with a group of thugs to harass us to either part with some money or leave the house and quite sadly and reluctantly, we always comply with his demands as Mom always sue for peace by preventing QT, Hamz and Karl from getting violent with them or calling his bluff, the times are hard and it's been pretty difficult having to dole out money to him virtually every week with our heartbeats sent racing as we always have to hurriedly hustle up some cash to meet his demand any time he comes calling.

Recently, Mom was able to get Musa to a sit down to draft an agreement on how much he wants to collect in bulk and for him never to show his face to harass us until the duration of the agreement had elapsed. Thankfully, Garba, our former gate man  arrived just in time to act as interpreter as Musa wasn't well versed in english language nor Mom in hausa. Garba had found it difficult living on his own and securing a steady job with a regular income to support his family in far away Sokoto state so he chose to come back and stay with us, as a mark of loyalty and having a sense of family in our home, despite our condition. Finally, Mom and Musa were able to reach an agreement for us to stay 3 months at a rather substantial amount of money but Mom, through the grace of God was able to pay and we were quite relieved we won't be seeing Musa's face for quite a while.

To blow off steam and let our hair down after a rough couple of weeks, QT had rather unusually suggested that we all go clubbing that night, this is unusually so as QT rarely suggests a fun day or night out and would rather pump steel in the gym. I declined going as I knew Mom won't buy the idea of all of us going out at night and leaving her alone at home... A home that outwardly looks deserted and almost dilapidated, furthermore, she hates the idea of night reveling, so mentioning "club" to her would mean them not  going altogether as she won't allow it. Hamz excitedly declared it was a good idea that I stay with Mom,

 "...After all, you're the sister we never had, so it would be cool that you stay at home with mummy"

Paranoia

Paranoia! It has probably happened to all of us at some point in our lives whilst others deal with it on a daily. It is the irrational fear of being unsafe or a schizophrenic assumption something bad is about to happen to one. I reckon paranoia comes in many forms but mine is usually centered on health.

MAJ- (On the phone)- Hey Tchubs, Am so scared, I have this splitting headache that's making me dizzy, I don't want to take pain relievers cause I learnt they cause liver damage in the long run, I think it's making me dizzy or do you think I'm short on blood?

TCHUBS- *Deep sighs* You're not serious Maj, seriously? You have the solution to your problem right in front of you and you're spitting B.S about the meds causing liver damage? Don't bother me please.... You have issues, Sheesh! 

Nairas, Dollars and Pesewas!

It was around the middle of the ramadan period when news got to us that my paternal cousin, Aunt Wati had given birth to a bouncing baby girl, her sixth and hopefully final child. According to her, her family planning had failed and thus had taken in, so now that she's given birth and being in the middle of the fasting period, the naming ceremony for the tot was postponed till after the fasting period so the ceremony could be fully enjoyed and attendance in full. Aunt Wati is our late Dad's niece, her father, also late is Dad's elder brother and her mother being Mom's sister-in-law with whom in company of other sisters-in-law were bullied for years by their Mother-in-law, now late and former Matriarch of the Adagiri family, the title which has been taken over by her daughter as read in THE DEVIL QUOTES SCRIPTURES.

Soundtrack to my life!

Mood!

Being Maj has been quite the roller coaster of sort...a pot pouri of events, good and bad, occurrences, spontaneous and planned, highs and lows, blows and exhilarations, cries and laughter, life's crosses and reliefs, baggages and freedom, sweats and yields, losses and gains and through every stage and step on this journey, music has being a great part of it all.

Music for me is a form of art of sound in a particular pattern or rhythm capable of steering or evoking different emotion in you depending on how you feel at that moment. It's one of my go-to source for calm, inspiration, excitement and therapy. This post couldn't adequately detail the entire soundtrack to my life but I would try to share a few lessons-in-songs you could take away from my life so far. 

...For mother is supreme!

"...A man belongs to his Fatherland when things are good and life is sweet but when there is sorrow and bitterness, he finds refuge in his Motherland, your mother is there to protect you...and that is why we say that mother is supreme" - Chinua Achebe, (Things fall apart).

A last stroke of makeup brush swept ever so lightly across  her fair cheeks to blend in her dull pink blush and she was ready as she assessed her overall facial makeup in her tiny oval mirror attached to her makeup block powder case to ensure it was perfect,

 "How do I look son?"

 She asked me, turning to look at me, I smiled and spurted out "Flawless" as I thought she was the strongest woman I know. Here she is, in a ramshackle of a house, in a room lacking her usual giant mirror and well placed lighting yet not letting her present situation dampen her soul, she still applies makeup and in lieu of her giant mirror, improvised by using a tiny powder case mirror, still looking high in spirit and ready to go, it made me be in awe of her as in a millisecond, memories of the many times she's  shown incredible strength flashed across my eyes, from  moments as a young child when Dad died and she was put in the midst of her sisters-in-law, her hair disheveled and was emotionally and psychologically tortured yet stood her ground and proclaimed her innocence to raising three boys on her own, enrolling back in school with the determination to change her story and make a success of her life, oh! How I remember the struggle or the memories of us eating low quality meals yet coming out with toothpicks in our mouth acting like we've just had a bountifully delicious meal just as I remember her late night cries when she thinks we were all asleep so we won't see her breakdown and how shocked she was as she shivered upon my hands resting on her shoulders to comfort her..I could go on and on.