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By Joseph Edgar



The call came in a shrill, it was one of those bleary days dark and gloomy. It was Ekanmi on the line. Yes I called her Ekanmi for she was my mother our mother, the mother of the Efik Kingdom. I had started taking her very seriously not because of her eternal exotic looks but also for the role she has played and continued to play in national development. Eight years in the National Assembly where she was not just a waka pass but very influential and strategic to being the liaison between the Presidency under my Lord OBJ and the National Assembly witnessing the passage of some of the most important bills in National history. She has more than enough earned not only my respect but that of the whole I walked into are apportioned apartments tucked by the seaside in what is today known as the enclave of the rich and mighty – Banana Island, I found myself walking into history. As I rode the elevator I was filled with trepidation and anticipation. I was a rabid student of history and I knew I was coming in for some of the richest fillings of contemporary Nigerian History.

As I walked into the apartment, the luxury hit me, flinging my Shomolu eyes into an abyss of fear. I immediately made to remove my shoes not wanting to stain the marble floors with mud that I had brought in from Shomolu. The Asian aide asked me not to as she in urgency quickly announced my arrival. As I stood in awe, I saw large framed pictures of Ekanmi with Bill Clinton and Arnold Schwarzenegger and then a well displayed but very beautiful picture of my hostess taken by the now iconic T.Y.Bello smashes into my consciousness. It was beautifully taken with Ekanmi looking quite delectable. Her beautiful lisped smile showing with her glorious skin calling your attention and holding it firmly. She was indeed exotically beautiful in this creation.

The air around me suddenly turned chilled, I became cold wondering what was happening and then I smelt that fragrance,. It was mild, soothing and motherly. I smelt her before I beheld her. She walked slowly towards me, hair looking luscious in black pants and a green sweater. She was glorious this was my first time of meeting her personally, something in her eyes held my attention and I did not know what to do. Should I shake, prostrate or just turn and jump from the 5th floor penthouse and splatter my shomolu blood all over the floor. But she saved me the effort by offering a handshake,

A hands were as soft as feather even as I noticed the sweetly painted finger nails and yes o that sweet fragrance again bidding me softy to sleep .

She smiled very comfortably aware of the confusing visage that was my issue that moment, leading me to the patio where I saw in a glance what success was. God I was barely existing in Shomolu, this was life. This was where you came to die preparing yourself for the Garden of Eden. This was an exotically apportioned complex where those who were no longer Nigerians live. Very far from the floods and the noisy pests that have made our traffic gridlocks home.

She started talking, it was history, politics, and entertainment all the works and her lisp continued to marvel me. It was warm and tropical. I listened with rapt attention but all the while staring at the lush surroundings with mouth agape and eyes wide like a starved monkey.

When I mentioned the issue of Chuba Okadigbo the dramatic and highly charismatic late former Senate President, her beautiful eyes shown bright opene and she opened her mouth and…………………

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