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Thursday, 29 May 2014

Unwritten Rules: Chapter 6


These words escaped Gbolahan Dada's lips as he walked past the lithe figure of a very beautiful dark haired, light-skinned Nigerian woman. She projected the picture of the 21st century career woman. She was dressed in a white sequinned shirt and a pencil skirt with black pumps and a suitcase bag.

She turned around in the newly renovated Abuja Airport and looking asking at the tall dark, Yoruba male standing before her, who was dressed in a dark blue dashiki shirt and trouser.

She murmured a hesitant "Hello"

She pursed her lips and then her mouth broke into a smile as she flew into Gbolahan's arms.

"Dearest" she whispered the words from perfectly painted lips.

She was a picture of elegance, elegance that spoke of the highest excellence. She had a personality that broadcast to the world 'nothing but the best would do for me'.

They separated but their hands were still linked and slowly swinging back and forth.

"How have you been?" she smiled.

"I am doing great, dearest. How have you been? Have you been living under a rock?"

"No. I have actually made quite a mark for myself. You have probably been too busy to notice other people's successes. I see you have done quite well for yourself"

"Likewise" He tried to quell the pride that welled up in him at her words "You cannot be classified as a Lagos big girl or an Abuja big girl; you are somewhere up there in a class of your own"

"We ought to spend some time together, chatting, catching up" still smiling "Would you mind having my card?"

"Definitely" He thought for a while and then said, "I am in Abuja for a couple of days, why don't we meet up?"

"I am catching a connecting flight to Gombe"

He frowned "Gombe? Why Gombe?"

He asked without words what she was going to do in Gombe when everyone was slowly avoiding the North.

"I have to see my husband urgently. He is doing some business in Gombe"

He nods understanding. "I don't have to tell you the north is not safe and it hasn't been safe for a long time; but lately, some things are going down. You shouldn't be there."

"Okay." She smiles. "You have not changed. How is your wife? I always did like her. Warm, giving..."
She trailed off.

"She is doing great. Let's get together when you return to Lagos then, if I am not mistaken, your first flight was from Lagos"

"We have homes in Lagos and Abuja. I hate the impersonal feel of hotel rooms unless I have to use them, too stuffy!"

"You are still as choosy as ever" He hugged her "Let me catch up on business in Abuja"

"Take care and it was good seeing you"

She blinked and then continued on her way to catch her next flight.

She looked back at him, smiled and kept going to her destination.

Gbolahan looked back at her elegant figure and fleetingly considered that the both of them had never mentioned Mahmoud. It was a silent thing, the choice to pretend that Mahmoud, their once dear friend and his still close friend, did not exist.

He let it go and hurried to catch an airport taxi to meet up with his business partner at the Sheraton Hotel, Abuja.


Bright Okopi walked down the street in Surulere heading for his pastor's house. He caught the bus from VI into Costain and then got a bus going into Surulere. The beauty of the sights and sounds of Lagos sank into his spirit. He loved the bridges, the billboards and the energy of the place called Lagos. His friends laughingly called it Las Gidi, the city that never sleeps.

It was known as 'Centre of Excellence' by the local government bosses, the governor made the slogan 'Eko o ni baje' popular on the lips of all Lagosians.

Although the current governor had made many doubt their honorary position as Lagosian when he deported certain people, some Hausas and some Ibos. Rumours had it that he was averting war and possible strikes of the deadly Boko Haram sect. His pastor called them cowards because only cowards captured women and children. Only cowards killed defenceless people or killed children in their beds while they were still sleeping.

"Good evening ma" he greeted his pastor's wife as he entered the living room.

"How was work, Bright?"

"Fine, thank you, ma." He muttered as he shook the rain off his raincoat and stride into the sitting room.

"He's in your study," she pointed in the direction of his study.

The study was made of wood, carved, beautiful, ornamental wood.

"Good evening sir"

His pastor looked up from his study of the bible "Good evening Bright how was your first week at work? Did you enjoy it?"

"Great. Everywhere and everyone is so beautiful and I am enjoying the orientation. I will be living for Port Harcourt after my second week".

"Hmmm" He nodded.

"I had great time learning a lot from my supervisors. The boss came to address the ten of us that were chosen from the recruitment exercise this morning. I like him"

"Remember to cooperate with you bosses and supervisors. It is God's divine organization."

"How do you mean?"

"Any man who is going to make impact in the world and the next must learn to follow God's divine organization?"

"Does that mean that I must do anything my boss says?"

"No, my son. God is God. He wants you to do all things in the fear of the LORD. Give him first position. Remember Joseph"

"Okay sir" he nodded and even though he did not understand it fully, he knew that his pastor was right. His pastor was always about the word.

"So what are we learning today?"

"Authority. The Believers Authority"

"Hmmm. You are a great student. Let us start now and pray afterwards. "

"Repeat after me, this is very important." Bright looked intently at his pastor. "The head of every man is Christ. The head of Christ is God. The head of the woman is the man..."

Bright repeated.

"The head of every man is Christ..."


Toke Dada wore a bright yellow tank top and white shorts with sneakers. She was watching a movie with her mom. She had the best mom in the world. Her mom made time for her on Friday or Saturday night. They spent it watching a movie and Daddy sometimes joined them.

She looked up at her mom in a white tank top and navy blue shorts with sneakers. They were watching the latest captain America movie. The Ibo mafia were still working. The movie was not out in the United States yet but the Ibo mafia knew how to get those movies once it was out in box office. When they failed her kid cousin, Tunde, had creative fingers.

"Mom, do you know I love you?" she smiled into her mom's eyes.

"Yes dear." Her mom smiled a little preoccupied with the movie. "What prompted that, dear?"

"I was just thinking about you and dad, and how I love you both"

"Hmmm" she smiled knowing her daughter had more to say.

"I noticed that you somehow ignore him lately," she said in a worried voice.

Her mother looked at her alarmed. "Whatever makes you think that?"

"I am a kid" Toke smiled to herself "...but in case you noticed I am also growing up into a beautiful young woman"

"You are one smart chic" she smiled. "I am just a little upset with him"

"Do you think he's cheating?"

"I shouldn't be having such conversations with a 14 year old"

"Hmmm, you're always saying you want me to grow into a responsible adult" she smiled "If I am going to succeed at that, you cannot be shutting me up when I want to clarify things".

Bimbo Dada swallowed and then looked in her daughters eyes, tears sprang in them immediately.

"I think so"

Toke nodded emotionless.

"What do you want to do about it?"

"I don't understand" Bimbo blinked back the tears. "What do you mean?"

"I have been around you both a number of years to know that Daddy is crazy about you. If some woman is distracting him, you must have left a gap. Daddy does not seem like someone who would enjoy playing a fast one on you. Maybe he's lonely"

"What about me? Look at me here with you on a Saturday night, instead of with him".

"Are you saying, 'I'm boring'?" Toke shrieked in mock offence.

"No. I am just saying I am human too."

"Do you want to be right or do you want to remain married in every sense to my daddy," Toke asked in a very serious voice. "Let me say that I really want you guys to be really married on the outside and on the inside, I am tired of the cold air that has been blowing around".

"I do," she said in a quiet voice.

"Then be present in the marriage, when he wants to talk to you, talk. Drop the grievances of a day on that same day no malice. You are a Christian, remember?"

"Is that blackmail?"

"No mom. I want you to love my dad. I want us to be one big happy family. Please"

"Okay dear. I promise you I will fight for my marriage. I will do my absolute best to keep every promise I have made to God. I promise you, I will forgive your daddy"

Toke launched herself into her mom's arms. She was crying betraying the teenager that she was.
Bimbo Dada held her daughter tight in her arms. This child was her blessing. She had directed her thoughts away from thought of separation to thoughts of love. God help her. She almost gave up. She looks up to the heavens and gave thanks and then murmured.

"Father, give me the grace to forgive that man"

As those word left her mouth, she remembered her mom's words and then set out to do God's will for that day with an added prayer that she would remember to do his will tomorrow.

"Father, protect my husband" she said out loud.

"Do you still want to watch the movie?" She said brushing Toke's hair.

Toke shook her head "No mom. Maybe tomorrow. I am just glad being with you."

Tessa Doghor

She is one of the leading Social Media Managers in Nigeria with the ability to foresee trends and build on it before it becomes commonplace. She is intelligent and strategic. She is also an amazing writer. To get in touch mail her at

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN

Saturday, 24 May 2014

Addicted: A book review and a book blast. Well, kind of!

I'm an addict.
I've never been addicted to drugs, food, alcohol o cigarettes
I skipped over all that in my teenage years
I had some bad habits, go over those when I surrender to Jesus and chose to give him the LORD
I had to dethrone everything and everyone else and give him first place
In couldn't kick just one habit

From the age of 6, I read my reader not in class but at home
Academics was the only area I wasn't a late bloomer
I didn't grow breasts and hips until I was 15
I didn't grow taller until I was in college a year later
But the habit of reading, I couldn't kick it
I'm 2 days late but I'm still gonna tell you all about a BOOK CONTEST.

She's a female author of 'An Unexpected blessing' and is giving away her latest book as an eBook in kindle or Nook format only. She's a friend on twitter and Facebook. If you're not following me on twitter, please do. My handle is @tessbabee

To enter go here:

Book Title: When You Let Go
Genre: Christian Fiction, Novel
Publication Date: May 22, 2014
Genre: Christian Fiction

About The Book:

An answered prayer. An unforeseen betrayal. A family healed by grace.

Amara and Ejike Dike had been married for six glorious years. Amara was convinced Ejike, was the perfect gift from God. Loving, charming and very easy on the eyes. They had a beautiful life. Well, not so beautiful. Amara's inability to bear children made her feel like a less than the perfect mate for her husband.
Then after many years, God lifted her faith and had finally heard her cry. The Dikes couldn't be happier.
A surprise visit from Chinelo, Amara's long lost cousin, turns Amara's world upside down and threatens to turn her once-perfect existence into ashes.
Ejike loved his wife with a passion. They shared a burning desire and faith in God that burned deep. However Chinelo's appearance would open a Pandora's Box that had purposely been kept shut.
Faced with the loss of all she holds dear, Amara finds herself at crossroads. Would she lean on God's sustaining grace to let go and travel the rocky path to forgiveness? Or would she throw everything to the wind and walk away?
When You Let Go is a novel about people who know what the Word of God instructs but struggle with actually doing it when the chips are down

(We all struggle with this, knowing what to do but wondering if we can because its easier to say, than do. Especially when you don't expect surprises. I want to read this book).

About The Author:
Born in Akron, Ohio to Nigerian parents. Unoma Nwankwor spent her childhood and early adulthood years in Port-Harcourt, Nigeria. She is a romantic at heart and is passionate about telling stories of faith and hope about love. She hope to capture her readers through stories that are faith based with an element of love.

After all, "and now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love." ~1 Corinthians 13:13
She is the published author of An Unexpected Blessing (2013) and The Christmas Ultimatum (2013) and many published flash fiction and short stories. Her work has appeared in Africa Book Club and the Kenyan Ezine ;Wamathai and well as numerous radio shows and blogs. She is currently working on her next novel When You Let Go (May, 2014) and A Scoop of Love (October, 2014).
Her readers are in love with her unique way of telling stories that capture the essence of her present home base; Atlanta Georgia and her Nigerian culture. She calls them her God-given stories and strives every day to be a use her gift to His glory.

Social Links:

Buy Links:
Tour Hosted by Write Now Literary Book Tours

I hope you enjoy it
From your book addict, cheers and have a wonderful weekend.

Tessa Doghor

She is one of the leading Social Media Managers in Nigeria with the ability to foresee trends and build on it before it becomes commonplace. She is intelligent and strategic. She is also an amazing writer. To get in touch mail her at

Tessa Doghor manages a site called that specializes in teaching entrepreneurial principles.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN

Friday, 23 May 2014

Unwritten Rules: Chapter 5

She got up and walked to the driveway, got into her car and drove away without once looking back. She had made up her mind.
Tanya Williams walked down the corridor to her office. She had been in the office 2 hours and already she had to do some transactions. 'All in a day's job', she mused.

She slipped off her red pumps and put on her black flat shoes. She was dressed stylishly in champagne coloured trouser suit and a red camisole with a watch and a pair of earrings.

'If she was going to stay on her feet, no need staying for long hours and having cramps that would steal half her sleep' so she thought as she slipped out of the office.

She walked elegantly across the street to the nearest bank. The Nigerian Government changed their minds the way young women changed their outfits.
Today they wanted more banks spread across the nation. The next day, they wanted only banks that had a certain amount of money in their vaults.

Today stealing was corruption; tomorrow stealing was not corruption. It all seemed a little like every Nigerian was a character in the book 'Animal Farm'. It was almost as if life was a game of chess.

"Good morning" she greeted cheerfully as she entered the banking hall.

It was impressive but what she needed more than decor; was quick service delivery. Some banks seemed a little dense when it came to fulfilling their promises. She entered the bank and made her payments in record time. She exited the bank and entered an eatery to take some lunch before reporting to the office.
She entered an eatery and walked straight to the counter.

"Good morning"

It was directed at the under paid overworked young lady behind the counter. She was having a terrible morning emotionally. She knew to deliver but handling her soul was a little difficult. Sibling rivalry was getting to her.

The #BringBackOurGirls had succeeded in being noticed but whether it was succeeding in bringing back the girls, she was not quite sure. The news reported three new bombings in Jos and one or two in Kano. She was not quite sure. A popular pastor said on twitter that physical battles were to be fought with physical weapons and spiritual battles with spiritual weapons. She wasn't sure if the government was listening or if they cared. There was no word. All she wanted was for those girls to be released back to their parents.

These were some of the bitter truths of the country called Nigeria. She was far from perfect. A few minutes later, the overworked eatery attendant was free and in front of her.

"What do you want, madam?"

She sighed.

"Hi, I am Tanya, I'd like some fried chicken and rice with a milkshake". She smiled to put the young lady at ease.

The young lady worked as though scared of losing her job each minute. It gave her a subservient attitude and no room to innovate or no hope of a promotion. Life was not meant to be lived like this.

"I would love to invite you for something I think you need"

Life was meant to be savoured.

"Here's the card. It is an outfit that trains and equips young people with skills to get better jobs" The girl collected it hesitantly.

"I would love to see you there on Saturday; it could be a turnaround for you if you would practice what you hear".

Most people thought you were going to hand out money to them at such events. What they didn't realize was that learning to add value was better than just collecting money. If you learned to add value, you would always be able to serve out of choice and not out of fear.

"I will think about it".

Tanya mused about silly answers like that. 'I am not a man and it is not a date, it is a chance to get more skills and give you a chance to make more of what God has gifted you with' she thought to herself.
She wanted to give her some advice but refrained, most people got offended when they got advice from strangers. They were more defensive than willing to learn. That was the story of the life of a growing economy and its peoples.

"Thank you for the excellent service" she said as she took her tray and looked for a seat.

She had learnt from one of her coaches to be kind at all time no matter what. It helped make others have a good day.
She sat and began devouring the meal quickly albeit delicately when her reverie was interrupted by a very confident voice. She was not disappointed when she turned to the source of the interruption.

"I hope you don't mind if I join you"

She groaned inside as she gave the clicked response made popular by Nigerian girls who wanted to be polite.

"It is a free world, you can sit anywhere"

She bit her lip. No break, thank God and no blood. She continued eating.

"Where are you from?" No game, brother!

"I'm Port Harcourt but I grew up in Lagos" She murmured between meals

"I am Subomi Williams and I am a Lagosian" He grinned in a convivial manner.

She warmed to him instinctively "I am Tanya" "I am a business man by choice and a lawyer by profession"

"I am a reporter" she smiled

"I am a collector" he smiled again, "I love art".

"Hmmm" she mused as she bit into her juicy chicken "The only art I know is putting words on my blank MS Word document, that's art". She laughed.

"Let me take you out to dinner" he offered

'Does that actually work in Nigeria' she thought to herself. She smiled warmly and informed him sweetly that she was busy all week.

He laughed loudly.

"I don't do this often, If you need to think about dinner, let me give you my card"

He offered his card as he saw she was about to leave. He stood up before she did his card in his hand, his hand in the air.
She hesitated a second before she collected the card. His contact could come in handy.
She walked out with a flourish and slipped the card into her champagne coloured trouser. She headed for her office, and work.

His handsome face and suave manner stayed somewhere in the recesses of her mind. She probably wasn't going to go out to dinner with him.


"Okay sir"

Bright Okopi was in a brightly coloured room with his pastor. He was dressed in a suit. His pastor had bought him two pairs of suits at the Above and Beyond in Surulere. They had excellent affordable, quality suits.

"Is this me?"

He was grateful inside of him for this help from his pastor. He grew up in Ajegunle and one of the traits was a deep inferiority complex that developed into hate.
Usually a nasty one that said without words but loud all the same thatt the world owed him or Nigeria owed him for him being poor.
The first time his pastor had confronted him about his attitude, telling him that he did not need to have an inferior complex now that he was in Christ Jesus.

He looked up in surprise and then he had reacted angrily; he burst out of the room and went home vowing never to go back. He had stayed away from church for three weeks rejecting his pastor's calls on his phone every day.

As the days went by, he felt the gentle nudging of the Holy Spirit that his pastor was right. His pastor was the shepherd God sent to train and equip him for the life that God has planned for him.

Why was he fighting his blessing?

He cried then. After the crying he got up and went to his pastor's house to apologise for walking off saying that he was back to learn how to be a disciple for Christ.
This was 6 months ago. Now God had blessed him with this job.
He had also blessed him with someone to help him transition.

"Thank you sir" he sighed and looked up. "Can you remember the journey here, sir? I am not poor anymore and it is thanks to you"

"I am just obeying my call to make disciples" His pastor looked up. "In this Christian, we are soldier and our responsibility is to do what the One who called us has asked us to do. Your happiness is just the overflow".

"I won't forget the please and the thank you and to serve like 'Joseph'"

"Hmmm" His pastor laughed out loud "It is a Father's joy to see that His children are walking in the truth. I am sure that God is gladder than I".

"I will report for work early because I aim to be the best and to add as much value that is demanded and over and above it"

"You cannot go wrong when you serve, my boy" he clasped his shoulders.

"Yes sir"

"Don't forget all the laws of the kingdom now" Bright nodded "Give your tithes, your offerings, this honours God. Honour your biological parents and your spiritual parents, the spiritual laws work for you".

"I won't sir".

Okopi nodded thinking of how he would avoid his friends' questions of how he was spending his money. He would have to keep that to himself. He packed his shoes into the packages and his two new pairs of suits and shirts.

"Most especially, don't forget to spend time with God daily; that is the only place to get divine energy to live a successful life daily"

This man was more than his pastor. He was a father.

"How will I ever repay you, sir?"

"Don't think about me" He smiled into his eyes. "If you want to make me happy, make other disciples, tell them about the great commission, tell them about Jesus".

"Thank you sir" he hugged him surprising his pastor.

"Come and see me and have lunch with my family and I on Saturday every week" the man held his shoulders "I will put you through anything else you need to know"

He smiled and started heading home. Even though his father could not help him in the financial world, God had sent him a father and for that he was grateful. They may not always agree but time had shown him that he could trust this man who was his shepherd.

"Bye bye ma" he said as he walked out of the house. His pastor's wife was cooking lunch on a gas cooker.

"Bright, are you not staying for lunch?"

"No ma, I start work on Monday, I am too excited to eat"

She smiled understanding, then packed some buns in a black nylon and handed it to him with a bottle of plastic coke.

"Eat that on your way home then." He nodded and collected it "Give my regards to your parents too"

He walked out. Making a decision for Jesus was the best thing he ever did.
Now having mentors, his life was changing just as they promised. He looked up as though a some heavenly being.

"Thank You, LORD"

Wherever God led him, By His grace He would follow, he vowed silently.

Tessa Doghor

She is one of the leading Social Media Managers in Nigeria with the ability to foresee trends and build on it before it becomes commonplace. She is intelligent and strategic. She is also an amazing writer. To get in touch mail her at

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN

Wednesday, 14 May 2014

Unwritten Rules: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Gbolahan Dada slipped through the crowd at a party somewhere in Abuja. He made his way in a black suit to a man seated in traditional Hausa attire. In his head when he saw Hausa's he saw turbaned men who cut people's hands for stealing a goat and married 10 year olds.
Mahmoud wasn't Hausa. Mahmoud was his friend. He was what the contemporary Nigerian called the Northern elite. To Gbolahan, Mahmoud was his friend.

"Mahmoud Abubakar" He hugged him "My brother from another mother".

He belonged to a royal family and had the clout to get him into any social circle in Northern Nigeria. They met at the age of 17 in the United Kingdom. They were college friends and soon grew to become close friends. Mahmoud was now married to a 35-year-old woman with ten-year-old twin boys.
They sat together and exchanges friendly light chats.

They were at a wedding of one of the hosts' daughters. This party was sane; it was a very different kind of the party.

It was different from the parties they had frequented when they were still younger. Alhaji Danjuma or as he was fondly called by the London crowd, 'Musa' was a party animal. His parties were characterised by acts that dehumanised humans, men, women and children alike. He had no limits. The orgies he threw by night had nothing to do with Sharia law which he supported by day. You would think he would give up youthful lusts but on the grapevine, he still heard things that suggested that he had not given up his penchant for such parties.

As much as his conscience had seared in many areas, he was not comfortable participating in the destruction of human beings. What these two eyes had seen, his wife would never know.
As an adult, He had to run away from some of the parties organised by Danjuma, after a while he simply stopped doing business with the man. Until Mahmoud rescued him from the dilemma of doing business with Musa, It was not worth losing his soul.

Only Mahmoud knew how much of a Christian he was that being at such parties bothered him.
He wondered how much of a Christian he still was. He still went to church. He just did not talk to God any longer. The guilt would not let him be. His mother could not drive away his nightmares anymore. He was a big boy now.

"We have seen great days together, some connections are divine"

He remembered the days when Mahmoud and Ada were part of their trio. The trio had schooled abroad and sowed a couple of wild oats but nothing as risqué as what was going on in northern exclusive parties set in London.

Ada and Mahmoud were into each other all through college but it had all fizzled out when Ada returned to school in her final year saying: 'Emeka has carried my palm wine, we have to stop'.

Mahmoud lost his temper and tried to convince her otherwise. That day changed everything for all of them. Whether he raped her, whether she gave in to their shared passion, no one would ever know.
All he knows was that he came home an hour too late and Ada was leaving teary eyed. She never said anything but her eyes said it all. Their connection was broken just like that.

The relationship shut down. He never asked Mahmoud what happened.
It went to the grave many relationships of people from different tribe go. Ada's father would never have accepted Mahmoud. They have an Uncle who died in the Nigerian civil war. It ended abruptly

"Mahmoud, this life we live, is it enough?"

"How do you mean? Our job is to provide for our families and do the best we can to love them. That is our destiny; we don't need any other".

"Hmmm, you won't understand. I just know that I am not satisfied; the more I get, the more I want".

"My friend, Gbolahan, stop bothering yourself about things that don't matter".

The burden left him and they went on to enjoy the party.


Ada Okonkwo sat across the bay in a purple canopy. She was having a drink of orange juice. She was dressed in grey slacks and white jackets. She was having a meeting with one of her old friends from college days. She was 39 years old and successful in all areas. She had never worked a day in her life.
Her college days were bittter sweet, she was not sure how many relationships she made that added value to her life. College was all about having fun and enjoying her life with family and friends. She had never been good at relationships and now she didn't bother. All she needed was to make goals and meet them and rejoice at her success. She wasn't too sure how that was going. All she knew was that these days the dissatisfaction was killing her.

She wanted sometime more to fill the vacuum inside her. She belonged to charities because her younger sister insisted on adding her names to every charity that cropped up in Nigeria. She was married to one of the wealthiest eastern men in Nigeria. He had family in politics but had no intentions of ever been in politics. She had three beautiful children and managed to not lose her figure or self esteem. Unfortunately her zest for life was gone.

She wasn't the kind of woman who had affairs, it was just something about her principles.
Her Yoruba friend, Doyin had suggested she have an affair on one of her many trips abroad, she immediately felt distaste for the woman. She was woman enough to not want to revenge just because her husband did.

She looked down and saw his name on the screen of her silenced HTC phone.

"Hello dear"

She listened to his voice on the other end, her mind on the convo but her body disconnected from the conversation.
All these years and her husband still couldn't place her moods. He either didn't know or didn't care. She didn't know which was worse.

"Yes sir"

She looked over the people scattered at different small umbrella canopies. Anyone of them if not all were probably envying her at the moment. She envied them their freedom.

"Okay sir. I love you too"

In the public, everyone saw them as a perfect couple. They were almost that, he had never laid a hand on her, she could give him the credit that. He just never respected her as someone with a brain. He treated her like a kid. His verbal abuse was out of this world. When she was receiving verbal onslaughts in private, it erased the power of any praise he gave her at the public events and global meetings they attended.

She was complicated. She wanted more than he was willing to offer.

To him, she was his beautiful treasure, a trophy wife whether she wanted to be or not. She was a trained medical doctor but was condemned to never practising.

"Tade, book a flight to Gombe for me" she spoke authoritatively into the phone. "I need to see my husband"

"Thank you" She whispered into the phone.

She called home and asked Lara to pack her luggage ready and prepare someone to care for the property while she was in Gombe for two weeks. She asked her to take a break while she was away in Gombe. She was tired of all the charities for once.

Her numerous pharmacies were successful and located all over the country in choice location. They had qualified pharmacists in place to running them.
Maybe she needed a new hobby, something that would add life and meaning; she needed purpose but her husband was too blind to see.

Well she was done. She was the kind of person that could trade all this wealth for some money and a fulfilled life. She needed to find something to spend all her pent up energy on; she needed work.

"Are the tickets ready?" she asked in a satisfied voice as she picked up her once again ringing phone
"No, don't bother about that, I will pick them up at the airport for 7 pm, thank you"
Somewhere on the other side of town, someone's life is changing forever. Bright Okopi is jumping up and down like an 8-year-old.

He has received the job that would metaphorically bail his family out of poverty.
He has no thoughts just yet, he is just happy that his dreams are finally picking up.
He just got the call. He made it.

He was to report for Monday, look in on Human Resources and then head to Port Harcourt for training.
He fell down on the chair and immediately called his pastor.

"Hello sir, I made the cut" he screamed into phone "I got the job, God really is good"

His pastor laughed on the other end. "Walk with God and He will show you His wonders, this is just the beginning"

"Yes sir" he laughed "sir I've never had a job. Can I come for some coaching on how to comport myself?"

His pastor paused then said, "You can come on Saturday, I'll teach you some principles on how to be the Joseph in your office, you'll soon be pleasing both God and your boss".

"Okay sir"

"Remember the giver of promotions is God and He gives to confirm the covenant He had with Abraham. Honour Him with you, your life and all that you have".

"Yes sir, I'll do that".

He cut the phone and ran to find his mother at the kitchen behind the house to inform her of the goodness he had just received.

"God, I am rich, I can finally say I am rich" he murmured as he went "this goodness is a confirmation of the covenant you have with Abraham; I recognise You as God, I am your people. I belong to you"

He looked up into the sky then dashed out to inform Mama Bright of their good fortune.
Maybe his dad would finally go to church.

Tessa Doghor

She is one of the leading Social Media Managers in Nigeria with the ability to foresee trends and build on it before it becomes commonplace. She is intelligent and strategic. She is also an amazing writer. To get in touch mail her at

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN

Tuesday, 13 May 2014

Onyema Edewo, 33, Festac Town, Killed by police....your part! #Best #For #Last

They say he was killed
He drove down to Festac with no incident
He survived the city
The robbers didn't get him
He was almost home and then he got his
It was an unlikely suspect
The police killed him.
They can't even say why
Its kind of sad.
Because it is a stone's throw from my house
Festac, I mean
I was even meant to pass that place around 9.15pm
But this isn't about me
It is about someone I don't know
A Nigerian
That's not it.
The issue is that people expect that to happen
They even place their faith in it
They say it happened around 11pm
Who? You may wonder
The newspapers and blogs and everyone else
Everyone's is eager to write and publish it, or read it
No one wants to be an agent of change
Innocent young men,
Their car broke down
They were towing it back to Festac
(In Nigeria, I think you're guilty until proven innocent cos you'll see the tow truck driver ran away to, only God knows where).
The driver of the tow truck recognised their intent and ran away (the policemen's intention)
They left Oyema and his friends to face the music (the police)
Doesn't this seem familiar?
It's something that can happen to anyone
You, me, your parents, or cousin
It has even happened to me and some friends
It made the news, the headlines
Sad thing is, I'm numb.
I read it but didn't feel much
Should I? Shouldn't I?
It's probably the response a bunch of others may have
Like most Nigerians, I'm afraid there might not be any justice
But I have to keep pressing!
Will there? Be justice, I mean.
I have to believe there will be justice
I pray the light bearers in this nation will stand
I pray that those who have callings for public offices will stand
Your calling is not just in the church
Our world needs 'Daniels' and 'Josephs'
We need people who are not afraid of the fire
We need people who are not scared of the consequences of saying 'no' to potiphar's wife
People who know that after the pit and the prison, there's a position that's never being created
The position of prime minister
Until then, the world is yearning
It's breathing, anticipating, waiting for you and I to become what/who God has said.
"God's agenda is men" - Dominion Mandate
God always sends a man
He sent you
You must recognise your worth and value
You must recognise your purpose
Your part/path
Only then will there be justice on the earth
I won't forget to say #BringBackOurGirls.
We want our girls back now
And lastly,
Like believers of my time
I believe things will/can only get better
It can only get better, BeTtEr, BETTER
This is what I believe!

Tessa Doghor

She is one of the leading Social Media Managers in Nigeria with the ability to foresee trends and build on it before it becomes commonplace. She is intelligent and strategic. She is also an amazing writer. To get in touch mail her at

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN

Oyema Odewor, 33, killed at Festac 3rd Gate...

Its kind of sad.
Because it is a stone's throw from my house
I was even meant to pass that place around 9.15pm

That's not it
The incident happened around 11pm
Innocent young men
Their car broke down
They were towing it back to Festac
The driver of the tow truck recognised their intent and ran away
They left Oyema and his friends to face the music

Doesn't this seem familiar?
It's something that can happen to anyone
Sad thing is, I'm numb.
Like most Nigerians, I'm afraid there might not be any justice
But I have to keep pressing!
Will there?

If we must, we must demand for it, just like the #ChibokGirls
234 of them. Or is it 276?
I won't forget to say #BringBackOurGirl
And lastly
Like believers of my time
I believe things will/can only get better

It can only get better, BeTtEr, BETTER

Tessa Doghor

She is one of the leading Social Media Managers in Nigeria with the ability to foresee trends and build on it before it becomes commonplace. She is intelligent and strategic. She is also an amazing writer. To get in touch mail her at

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN

Tuesday, 6 May 2014

Unwritten Rules: Chapter 3

Bright Okopi stood outside Doyle Energies. As usual he was out looking for a job as an engineer with a pay of N 350 000. He had arrived at the company at 6.30 pm in a bid to impress his would-be employers. He sat at the security post as he waited for the start of work.
Okoro and Alice, two security personnel on duty were kind enough to let him sit out the rain at the security post before the employees resumed.

"Fashola no dey try" said Okoro. "Why would he take food out of people's mouth?"

"He has a dream for Lagos," said Bright smartly spouting all that Babatunde Raji Fashola, the current governor of Lagos State had said.

"You don't understand," said Okoro "I think he is overdoing it. He drove the people selling recharge card home"

"...and when they could no longer sustain themselves he deported them back to their villages via luxurious buses" Alice laughed as she adjusted her cap on her head.

"How did I end up in Lagos?" asked Okoro.

Bright looked at him curiously, "What happened to you?"

"I didn't have money to finish my academics and so I came to Lagos to sell 'Okrika' at Yaba market"

"I hear it's a lucrative business"

"It was" Okoro answered Bright "...that was until Fashola's boys levelled my shop when they were changing the face of Yaba market".

"Hmmm" Alice smiled indignantly

"When I got stuck, and I wasn't able to pay my bills. I had to secure this job as a security man so I can pay my bills"

"Do you have plans of completing your education?"

"How?" Okoro asked. "The school fees keep rising and the numbers of people who can't hold on and drop out of college keep increasing"

"Let me tell you what happened in this Victoria Island" he continues without waiting for Bright to answer. "A food seller was constantly been harassed week after week by KAI".

"But they are doing their job, they have to, there are no sentiments when you are doing your job" Bright answered assuredly.

"That is what I thought too. They struck every week threatening her not to sell there again". He paused dramatically "...but instead of throwing the food away, they carted the pot of stew with assorted meat that is associated with local food sellers".

"So...there is nothing she can do" Bright sighed.

"Everyone pitied her but no one could do anything. One day she had the food poisoned and placed them on her sales table and kept some under the table for her customers. After the KAI officers had eaten her food, they dropped dead one by one".

"What?" Bright screamed as he shot of his seat.

He wanted to yell 'that is murder' but he remembered where he was. The two security officers obviously saw it as karma.

"When the other KAI officers turned up and tried to arrest her, the residents gathered and fought to save her".

"Wow" It was difficult to know where to stand in an issue like this, thank God he wasn't a lawyer. He continued with small talk but tried to stay off the gory stories as he awaited his interview hopefully.

Gbolahan Dada sat on his seat Sunday evening and watched the Presidential chat. As the president promised to do everything, as long as the parents of the Chibok children cooperate with the Federal Government in helping find their girls.

"This is what he should have done a long time ago"

Bimbo's soft-spoken voice broke into his thoughts. They had not spoken for weeks.
She hadn't been talking to him for weeks. He hid behind his silence because he suspected that his wife had discovered one of the letters from his mistress.

"His advisers are doing as much as they are qualified to do"

"It must be difficult to think when you are being bombarded from all sides by angry Nigerians" cut in his 14-year-old princess, Toke.

She was growing up so fast and a replica of her gorgeous mom.

"You are so smart, I think I must be doing something right" He laughed out loud then spoke to Toke "Get my ipad from the room, darling"

"It is here with me, Dad"

He stood and saw Toke dangling her legs in the air. She was lying behind the sofa on the rug clad floor and tapping unendingly on his iPad.

"Did you finish charging your daddy's iPad" Her mom jutted in.

"Yes mom" She shrugged her shoulders, stood up and held out the iPad to her father. "Here dad, take it".

She got up and headed for the stairs. "I am headed for my room, you two love-birds can stay up late" she yawned and continued upstairs.

"Hmmm" he smiled into his wife's eyes for the first time in weeks "Toke is growing up too fast for my liking"

"Uh huh" Bimbo said noncommittally. "In a year she will be in her final year and off to the university, she's not as young as you see her anymore".

Bimbo was wearing a navy blue bum shorts and an old T-shirt with her hair done in a weave. Gbolahan was in his customary white dashiki.

"I got you something from the presidents' daughter's wedding" he reached into his laptop bag and pulled out the gold plated iPhone.

"Thank you dear" she whispered the endearment she used for everyone.

Gone were the days when she used his special endearment. He remembered the early days of marriage and wondered why women had to hold on to every wrong like a pillow. It was killing the intimacy in their marriage or had succeeded in killing the joy of their marriage and he was trying but had no idea of how to bring back those early days.

"That all?"

"Do you want more?" she enquired. "I am thankful that you had me on your mind during your trip" she shrugged and got up with the package.

He shrugged, opened his laptop and began working on it absentmindedly "I will join you shortly," he shouted after her.

That was a lie. He did not intend to leave his laptop until 2 am when he must have exhausted all the solutions that had come to him. His wife could take care of herself.

Once she had accused him of feeling guilty and instead of apologising, he pulled away. Maybe true. Maybe not. He had lost his enthusiasm for this marriage. No one was trying. He did not feel like trying.
Maybe he should sext with Maryram, the air hostess on the Arik Air flight from PH to Lagos who was fascinated with his white hairs. He smiled as he picked up his HTC phone.

Tanya Whitehall was involved in the strikes that were holding. The whole saga of the #BringBackOurGirls wasn't flying over her head like other youth her age. She and her cousin's wife ran an NGO that had as one of its concerns righting the injustice against the female child. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to highlight the good; that her charity organization was doing.

She had collaborated with other groups to bring the ##Chibok girls back home to us. The dress code was a red t-shirt.

"Ughrr" she muttered as she felt the discomfort that accompanies high heels.

She had a field day with every one of the women in politics and business who were her personal heroes standing in front of the State House in Ikeja in a field insisting that the president do something about the Chibok girls. It has been over two weeks and no progress has been reported. It took all of the will power she had not to take selfies with each one of them and post on Facebook.

"Tanya, focus on the main thing now, you need to project professional"

She took professional pictures to post on Facebook, and to use as a portfolio to create a newsletter that got to the heart of the everyday busy individual.

"Thank you so much"

She grinned a popular pastor's wife in Ikeja. Some people were so humble. She prayed she was still humble when she became famous.

She read her last tweet and signed off twitter.

As usual, the media was ablaze with righteous indignation of the youths, at the government and the missing young ladies and how this couldn't happened in America without a retaliation. Silver bird TV just concluded their report on the girls. Tanya switched off the TV as the news ended. She noticed that while the NTA showed how the president had yesterday visited the secondary schools.

The Silver bird TV dwelt on the parents and how they were devastated that their children were in custody of the dreaded Boko Haram men.

"Do you know some silly people are actually saying that no #Chibok girls went missing? They are saying its a scam, read this". Christabel said as she thrust her phone under Tanya's nose.

"The must be from another planet. Why would someone invent something like that? Tanya sniffed as she read the tweets.

"Can you believe it?" Christabel huffed in righteous indignation.

"I don't think we should waste our time/emotions on trivial things, the Chibok girls need us now"

How insensitive could one get? She was going to wait and see for herself because in this country, anything was possible.

Tessa Doghor

She is one of the leading Social Media Managers in Nigeria with the ability to foresee trends and build on it before it becomes commonplace. She is intelligent and strategic. She is also an amazing writer. To get in touch mail her at

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN

Friday, 2 May 2014

For the fulfilment of dreams & visions, you need to be 'selfless'

I'm in a GTBank hall
Somewhere in Lagos

I thought I knew the meaning
Of the word 'selfless'
I don't
I'm learning all over again

Sounds boring
It's the stuff that births greatness

That's who I am
At least that is what God promised me
He said, "I will make you great"
He said it to Abram who's now Abraham
And Gal 3:29 says I am a partaker too
Because I am a part of the seed of Abraham (Christ)
I am in Him

That's one of the redemptive rights
Been studying great men, of old and in my time
And they were all

Like I said, I thought I knew the meaning of the word
But I'm discovering it all over again and I choose
To be 'selfless'
It's a key to my journey
Who God wants me to be
I'm grateful for all my trainers
I pray God blesses them all

(Not calling any names but God has sent me people sha and I'm a learner)

I also started writing a novel finally. You can find me at
I put up a new chapter every week, enjoy!

Tessa Doghor

She is one of the leading Social Media Managers in Nigeria with the ability to foresee trends and build on it before it becomes commonplace. She is intelligent and strategic. She is also an amazing writer. To get in touch mail her at

Have a lovely weekend too.
Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN