This is the story of how I helped an enthusiast "come-out"
My friend Bobo had sent me the invite on facebook, Patabah books was hosting the alpine Chuma Nwokolo who was going to be reading from the triad of The Ghost of Sanni Abacha, How to Spell Naija in 100 Short Stories and Diaries of a Dead African.
I had happened on her on Facebook(what Facebook has helped us achieve these days) after she commented on a friend's wall asking him why all his posts were in inverted-commas
Anyways, I liked her. She had accepted my request pronto though further efforts to establish a fluent rapport kept hitting a Berlin Wall(which I took down eventually but we will get there soon). At one point I called her a Purist for having declined contributing to a near-lascivious
I had to meet her. So there I was, looking all good, mind made up to visit her at the school where she taught. Once again, Bobo, my Bobo of school days saved the day. I was almost on my way when he sent another invite for a literary event, one that was coming up just that weekend, I was elated, I felt like a flying pig. I sent the invite to her inbox on Favebook and not quite long after that, she replied with her phone number and declared her chastity of such events. Could I be gladder? First date and I was gonna rip her open, rip off every petal of that beautiful flower, blow her, blow her mind away, I was gonna be THE "DEVAGINATOR"! I called her a day to the event and in this uber-suave voice made the arrangements.
The Black Swan arrived. Adeniran Ogunsanya, Shoprite, Patabah Books. I was gonna be there. I had called her the morning of the day and she had gladdened my belle. I got to the Mall and as expected fine fine ladies everywhere(Ashe
It was 3pm and Patabah, a smorgasbord of books, was scanty as expected, only a few high school students and a couple of customers(a pointer to our declinining literary interest as a people?). Chuma was nowhere to be found so I went window shopping only to come back and he was concluding an obviously hilarious story(judging from the different angles and shapes the jaws of the listeners were taking). Questions were then asked, answers provided and just as he was going to begin the second reading my phone rang. I crept out, walked to the entrance of the mall and there she was, looking as picture-perfect
I held her arm. Tried a hug which collapsed to a handshake. No need being too forward, I told myself. We walked back in together. And see! Such brightness! She was awed, excited, she couldn't take it all at once(Hemingway and Faulkner will be happy, Achebe and Tutuola too, a new convert, a dainty one at that). We bought Chuma's books, Bobo came in, Chuma read again, we all laugh, we ask questions, he answers. Then its picture time, everybody's happy, but she's ecstatic.
Greasy KFC depletes our wallets thereafter, we call a cab, we head for British Council-A Book Party. Yay!!!
At the British Council its Lagos 2060, a collection of short stories about the future of my Lagos. Almost every contributor reads their piece, only Rayo is impressive, the others sound like Timid kids infront of a class of bullies, Chuma is a reading Gibraltar I whisper to her, give them time, Chuma has been reading for years she counters. I passively submit. The book party comes to a close, we have small chops, Vodka, Sodas and mingle a bit before we set for the other side of Lagos.
On our way home, she can't believe everything. She's mor than happy, she can't hide it so much that for the next few days, facebook is deluged with pictures from that day, her Blackberry phone doesn't miss out too.
I am glad eventually, I have initiated someone, she has seen the light, you may call her Illuminata!
