Sunday, 8 July 2012


Nnenna Chikendu Okafor
A writer's heart is deep, soft, tender and fragile. If it is not moulded this way he cannot create those moments of empathy that draws a reader into a piece, keeps him there for as long as possible and finally tosses him out, either ragged with emotions and unfulfilled desires or curled up on the couch dreaming of places far and wide.I can safely say that there is no better moment in life than that moment when you are lying under a duvet on the living room sofa, soft Christmas chimes in the background, lazy snow flakes drifting by the window and a good book in your hands. It is an absolute divine love affair. It rivals only the moment when you have just met the girl you know you would love all your life and both of you are lying side by side on the grass at night staring at the stars, wondering how your lives would pan out.

The way my life has panned out, i have not had too many of those sofa-duvet-snowflake-good book moments but i have had quite a few side by side-grass moments. I remember one of those moments way back in time. It wasn't exactly a grass moment, it was more or less a park bench moment on my campus. University of Jos. I was a third year theatre arts undergraduate. It was a dry cold evening, the type that only Jos is capable of  bringing. I was with a tender eyed, pouty goddess and i couldn't have been happier. I had known her half of her life it seemed. Their house in Aba was directly opposite my father's. I used to peek at her from the upstairs window as she went by to the market, plotting how i would at least get her to notice i even existed. I had dreamed for so long about having her in my arms and then finally the gods literarily dropped her into my laps when she gained admission into the University of Jos to study no less a course than the same I was stydying-theatre arts. I was already one of the major stars of the department and she didn't stand a chance against what i used to think were my boyish charms and "stardom". But beyond the thrill of getting the girl which every boy worth his father's blood enjoys at least once in his life there was something different about this girl who had her arms wrapped around me on that cold park bench. It wasn't just the warmth she radiated nor her ready laughter or the fact that she was a beautiful vision with eyes that melted my soul but maybe because of the fact that she made me want to be a man, protect her, provide for her and lock her away safe from the vagaries of existence. For the first time in my life i understood that age old cliche "i can take the stars out of the sky for you" I loved her with my heart and my soul and i thought i would spend all my life with her. But we were young, we were inexperienced, naive about the fiobles of life and of course time like the writer it is, put a twist in the tale and left us angrily throwing off the duvet and stomping over to the window to watch those gentle, lazy snowflakes turn into angry hail stones.
The years have passed and we had both met other people and gotten married. we now live a world away and worlds apart, she in England with her beautiful kids, me in Nigeria with my awesome family but one thing a book lives you are memories and well, memories are meant to be remembered. So last night we remembered those moments on the park benches of Students Village in University of Jos and the rowdy noisy streets of Aba where our love blossomed and like a good book we felt like going back to that sofa to read it all over again. Nnenna, i thank God for giving me the opportunity to have loved you no matter how short that opportunity was. May God keep you and yours and give you the life you truly deserve.

Now don't ask me why i have posted this, this Sunday morning. This blog is a writer's blog and well it is Sunday. I didn't want to be too stiff and academic today and since it is my blog, i have the right to post what i feel like writing and this is what i want to write about today. This is my heart, a writers heart.


Plates of Nkwobi
"Nkwobi is a classic and very popular delicacy originating from the South-Eastern region in Nigeria. Made with cowleg cooked and smothered in thick sauce, it is one of the many culinary delights to be derived from Igbo origins.
 More of an appetizer and served on its own, Nkwobi has become a favourite part of the menu when eating out in “traditional” restaurants both home and beyond. Not to be confused with the equally popular isi-ewu (goat head), Nkwobi is a simple yet tasty dish with a tempting flavour which will keep you asking for more!"
Emeka Ossai
That is  how SpiceBaby described it, Nkwobi, the culinary delicacy that seemed to have come from nowhere and taken over the hearts of every Igboman and people from different parts of the world too. Now I am an igbo man and i enjoy the food of my people but i have never been one for delicacies like Nkwobi and Isiewu until last night when I became a convert. Now what made me a convert was not necessarily the taste of the food nor was it the "goat eye" that stared at me accusingly from the plate saying "you are not going to eat me are you?"  Writing this now it just hit me that my people are a strong breed indeed.. I mean only the Igbo's have the ability to eat something that is staring at them. it gives you goose bumps right? Well to what made me a convert.

Zakky Adze
I'd been ensconsed in Johnson Davidson's ultra comfortable off ice all week working on the final script drafts of his new soap DIARY OF THE HOOD. Now the "mean little bast..d" had hijacked me from my office and refused to allow me go home until i finished his job, which i'd left hanging all month. Knowing he had pushed me a little too far he finally decided to take me out Saturday night. Actor, television producer and new father Emeka Ossai came around to pick us up from the office and they took me somewhere in Ebuttemeta. With us were too of our friends, Singer Cherryl and her sister Ijeoma. Now like they say we are all celebrities and their are certain places you should not be seen at night if you are a celebrity. I felt that Ebutemeta was one of those places especially if you are driving around in the kind of cars we were. But my colleagues did not seem to have a care in the world.
Reginald Ebere
We arrived at an innocous compound and walked through a narrow alley that led in between a couple of houses. Some people who recognized us greeted us warmly and we finally walked into a clearing at the back of the house and the fun began. We helped arrange and clean the seats and the tables. Moments later, torch bearing musician Zakky Adze, without his torches walked in with a friend. Our host Barrister Godson Nwosu  and his wife started pulling out bottles of wine and plates of Isiewu. while that was going on, a couple of friends from DSTV also walked in followed by another who had just come from Ireland.
Daddy Showkey, a friend and Johnson Davidson
It was at this point that the conversation really went cerebral. A sudden argument exploded concerning the bribery scandal between Otedola and Lawan. From there it swung to Nollywood and the progress the movie Industry had made over the years.
It was all stimulating conversation in an ambience of conviviality and friendship without the pressure of putting on airs and trying to impress some Journalists totting cameras and trying to see our flaws. And by the time the night was over i'd eaten three plates of Nkwobi and had officially been inducted into the Nkwobi hall of fame. Now the hosting rights will fall on me on the 21st of August, my birthday. If you happen to be around on that day and you can brave the fear inspiring neighborhood of Ebutemeta join us at the Nkwobi headquarters let's scare the living daylights out of some goats.


  1. Thanks Frank. Mighty nice of you for the message. I appreciate it immensley.


  2. Haaaa! See groove! No wonder i've hardly heard from you... so you were work kidnapped? lol. Anyways Nkwobi is highly addictive (if i say so) and hey i'm in for the ride on the 21st! Can't wait o.