Extract 2

“Please follow me ma'am,” she hears and she sheepishly follows, full of the uttermost level of fear. Then the lady she is following turns around and says, “we will call you shortly,” motioning for her to take a seat. Fear, because she knows neither what is to come nor if she has made a mistake. Her stomach makes a horrible grouching noise. She is not sure if it is due to the fear emotion or hunger. All she has with her to eat was two noodle packs that would need cooking.
Before now, she had been taken to Toronto for four days. She got a chance to speak with her darling at a detention house she was taken to, but as she was instructed by the lawyer (the wife of her uncle’s pastor-friend) that she had to limit the amount of time she calls Alex because invisible eyes would be watching her as well as ears within the walls. She was to pretend to not know anyone at all in Canada, because she is to pretend to be just an abused refugee. This according to the lawyer would raise her chances to be helped. She stuck to the plan and whenever she did call Alex, she spoke the battered French she knew, hoping that could make some difference for her situation. The place she was taken to was a motel-looking institution only for detained refugees. Other ladies were there, happily living their lives before the judgement day arrived to announce what was to become of each one. Funkè heard that there was girl that had been in the institution for over a year, still waiting for the Canadian government to issue her stay-papers to her, which made her stomach tighten even more. She is not planning on being anywhere away from her husband for so much of a long time.

“That is not my portion,” Funkè pronounced under her breathe. She missed Alex so much. She never got a chance to speak with him as she would have wanted and had no idea whatsoever of his whereabouts. She made up her mind to be patient because according to the lawyer, this was the routine for all individuals demanding for a refugee status.

So now she is taken back to the border for the final decision of an approval to enter into Canada or not. A lady in black uniform starts to approach her. The lady has no expression whatsoever on her face. Then suddenly, Funkè hears so loud in her eardrums, what seems to be the American national anthem. 'It can't be,' she thinks to herself, now feeling her fingers and toes going numb. The woman gets closer and closer. She motions Funkè to come along with her. Funkè takes the chance of asking if the woman could hear the American National anthem, to which the woman denies. Silently, Funkè follows and is led to a room where she had a short chat with an officer about why she wants to live in Canada. The officer did not smile at her entrance, “please sit,” says he. She sits on the edge of the chair, not knowing what to expect.

He goes straight to the point, “I am very sorry but your request was denied!” she hears. She hears a sentence that would determine her future. So simply put. No comma, no emotions, just simply said as a routine. She tries to continue listening but all she could hear is the American National anthem in her eardrums. ‘It cannot be!!!’ she screams in her mind. As she zooms in and out of the man speaking, she feels as though she is spinning into a dark hole. The man sitting down with her paperwork in front of him is saying, pointing to a paper with a pen,

“I would have to get some officers to escort you back to the United States of America right after I take your fingerprints on this spot.” The American national anthem now begins to fade off in her mind. Another officer approaches her, asks her to bring her hands forward as he clips two metals on her wrists to lead her into an American Police car. Tears begin to find their way to the surface of her eyeballs uncontrollably. She sees her world shattering slowly like the waterfall of the Niagara Falls from a distance. She knows she would not be seeing her sweet husband anytime soon.

She feels like she is trapped in a world of a nightmare that would not pass away. One second she is being hauled from the back of a van with bars behind the driver in case the passenger in the back seat goes crazy and did regrettable things. The next moment she is being filled up by a large African American woman who boomed out, “spread your legs!” Funkè obeys.

“This your real hair girl?” She nods. “Here’s your uniform.” Orange. Funkè stares at the uniform. “They ain’t gon put themselves on you girl, next!” A male uniformed officer leads her into another room to change into the orange uniform and hand over her own clothes, with whatever else she has on her. The tears seem frozen in her tear ducts. Still shocked with unbelief, she merely follows the instructions being yelled at her and some other young ladies. Maybe she is being punked or something.

Caged behind a ten foot tall, fifteen feet long and seven feet wide room with nothing but an iron-made bed, an iron-made toilet and cold floor, Funkè begins to come to some realisation of this crazy occurrence.

She sits on the hard bed, trying not to remember how she ended up like she did. All she could do is rehearse to herself about how life was so unfair. How she has been betrayed. It just could not be possible. Is there still a God or did the world go into extinction and took God along without her knowledge? It is  right now beyond her wildest imagination to be sitting in jail. Jail? Seriously?

It seems as though she has been chasing after the wind and really, there was a possibility that there is no God. How did this happen? She prayed didn't she? Herself and her husband prayed for guidance. How did they not see this ahead of them? According to her, she lived a good, carefully planned life. Gets into no trouble, and definitely concerned about being heaven-bound by treating other people rightly and praying always.

Not able to contain herself, she begins to scream.

She screams so loud that three lady-sergeants show up in front of her cell.

“Whatta hell is going on withchu you young lady, uhn? Whatha hell?!” exclaims a blonde, green-eyed lady in uniform. Funkè is sitting on the hard bed, facing the door of the cell, saliva dribbling from her mouth onto a rough itchy, gray blanket they provided her with to keep warm.

“I’m talking to you gurl, why you scream like that?” she stares at Funkè, expecting some words from the skinny black girl with eyes puffed up enough that you could barely see her brown eyes, and oversized orange outfit that swallows her figure. The young black girl says nothing but to stare back, trying to make sense out of it all. The other sergeants merely stare back at her with what looks like disgust for getting them to get up, missing whatever show they were engorged in on the television.

“Uhrr, I hate this shit,” says one of the sergeants, “am gon return to my unit ladies,” and she walks away as the other follows. The blonde sergeant stays behind turning to take a look again at the young black girl who begins to rock back and forth with her head between her flexed knees, feet on the bed. “Hey you, are you ready to talk about what just happened?” She gets no answer. She waits a bit more, and then walks away hissing and shaking her head. ‘Damn this crazy-ass job,’ she thinks to herself.

Funkè just could not believe what is happening to her. She needs to get out of here, and get out fast, tell someone she is innocent, did nothing wrong and continue her life, revised. What did she do wrong anyway?

The only clear memory she has is that of the last face she saw before the nightmare began- Alex.

'Oh my God, where is he?' she thinks in despair. None of them knew how this dilemma started or how it would end, 'where is he on this dreadful face of the earth,' again she thinks, desperately in need of some answers.

The screaming has stopped and so has the interrogating blabbering sergeants.  Funkè drifts off to think more about Alex. The only person she had learnt to count on for the past two years of their relationship. Really, her only trustworthy family now. Family! Humph. That word just seems too confusing; so full of hope and yet disappointments. Its traditional description just doesn’t seem to fit into her world too well. Everyone appears to know a lot about pretending to love her. And there she was, always wanting to please all, especially those she put on a pedestal, allowing herself to be stripped off of her rights; her uncles, aunties, mother and father.

Extract taken from upcoming book, "My American Dream"

Your support means a lot

Extract from ch. 1 "My American Dream"

Extracts in awaiting the book "My American Dream" by Funkè Ojo

It was around midnight when Alex decided that the day was still not over, so he called Funkè to meet up with him. They snuck out from each other's separate homes to meet at the park close to Funkè’s place. Alex was staying with some friends and Funkè, with her uncle and his family. The park was just like the one they are in right now, quiet with an attractively warm Arizona weather. In fact pretty much the same, except there were about two other couples in the park “romancing” each other in their own ways at different avenues of the park.

“So what are we doing here me dear” Funkè mischievously asked the man she is so ready to run to court with the next day to sign those marriage papers. Thanks to God she decided to finally and seriously ask the elders in her church if they could join her in prayer to find out if he is the ‘right one’ for her. Plus, she had a long talk with her best friend, Naomi who had known her longer than any of her other friends and thankfully Naomi had a big smile on her face for approval, when she finally met Alex. So, now that her pastor who was also her uncle, had agreed to take part in blessing her marriage, she married Alex in a small but classy way.

If the people close to her had all disagreed, what would she have done? Elope? Nah... that's not like her. She is one young lady that soothes the word, ‘God fearing.’

“I want to do thangs to you, my perfect lollipop,” said Alex, pulling her towards him and placing a juicy kiss on her forehead. Then he worked his way close to her, massaging his full African inherited thick lips on her soft lips. “What will I do without you my lovely beautiful wife to-be?”

“I am sure you can do a lot of things without me honey,” she tried to resume the little game going on but all of a sudden he got more serious than his playful self. He looked her in the eyes with the help of the street light above them, “I would definitely not be the same, my queen.” She playfully pushed him away and let out a giggle, saying, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Oh, I could think of a whole lot of things,” said he, actually looking like he was thinking about a couple of things, “oh yea I got some ideas. You want me start showing you?” said the good-humored Alex that she knows. He is like a dream that you just don't want to wake up from. What with his beautiful big eyes that are saying 'get closer’ or his broad shoulders that he got from training to get a black belt in Tae Kwan Do and on top of that, he is a computer genius! What?! Did she go gold-mine hunting and got lucky digging the spot where the raw diamonds are buried? His ice melting touch sends chills down her spine and warms her up in such a way that if it was zero degrees outside, she would not need a heater when he is around. Too good to be true, right? That is exactly what she said. A good and God fearing man he is; however, she knew that if not for continuous prayers lifted to heaven, the marriage seminars and singles’ seminars she had always attended, she would be less sure of herself-

          “What are you thinking about?”

“Uhn?” she was cut off guard a bit. “You have that look in your eyes like you are deep in thoughts,” said curious Alex. “Oh, I was just thinking about you that's all.”

“I know that’s right; I just wanted to hear it from you. So where were we?”  He was about to start stroking her neck when all of a sudden, he jumped up and let out a loud scream that seemed almost impossible to come from a man’s vocal chords. Deeply alarmed, Funkè also jumped up, wide eyed, “What's wrong???”

“I don't know babe. I think... I think I got bit. What the heck!” he shouted to the sky dancing around, as he grabbed his male piece. “Ahhrg I got bit, I got bit. I need... I need water.” Still not knowing exactly what to do or where to go from there, she dashed for their nearby parked car, grabbed an empty water-bottle, shouting, “Alex, loosen your pants, I gotta see it and you need to wash off…whatever it is!” Not hesitating any further, he obeyed her command, struggling to unbuckle his belt. Funkè dashed towards the dancing sprinklers as she caught from the corner of her eye, Alex, still dancing around and trying so hard to hold back his yells that seemed to have attracted attention from the other couples around. She filled the bottle and sprinted to him, with wet clothes and her hair matted against her face. “Here babe, where is it? Kneel right here and wash it, you'll be fine,” she stroked his back to calm him down a bit, then realizing that he hesitated, “I will look away while you wash.... it,” she stammered, looking away. But she felt Alex's strong hand on her arm, pulling her back to him, “I thought you were going to take a look at it,” came a smile naughtily displayed on his face. Funkè hissed at him, “I can see you feel better,” slapping his forehead gently, she got up and walked away. Finally, he got up with a look of relief on his face. He had been bitten by little red ants right on the tip of his male piece but as Funkè saw him calm, she gave a deep breath of relief herself, as she walked into his outstretched arms, inviting her for a thank you hug. “Now I am convinced that I am going to be okay. Men, babe I saw you ran for that water, not caring if you got wet or sick,” he said in wonder.

“Are you nuts? You scared the crap out of me!” she yelped at him, “actually you should have seen your face when you got the first bite down there,” then she started to laugh at him and chuckling out loud. Alex did not find the memory funny but managed a smile that said, ‘hmps, you think you funny, wait till I get you.’

“You got to know that I do love you Alex. And I know you would have done the same, right?” She questioned, looking up into his confirming eyes. He bent his head, placing another one of those juicy kisses, “yes babe, I’d do a lot of crazy things for you,” and he carried her in his arms.

“I need to get out of these clothes as soon as possible before I catch a cold,” Funkè said with a worried tone that Alex seemed to ignore. Instead, he replied cheerfully, “heck yea, lemme help you take your dress off.”

“You wish,” says Funkè laughing as she playfully slapped his hands off her dress. She ran back into the sprinklers in the dark of the night, shouting behind her, “not till I hear you say ‘I do,’ loud and clear!” to Alex who ran just right behind her.

Please leave your critiques, generous or not :-)

...

Love on the internet

How did you meet your other half?
Some people go to cafés, other to parties and clubs. Some dare to go on blind dates while some purposely go to church to get a "good girl" or a "good God fearing man." Lead me to love, we call to our maker.
However, there are those who are so busy working, that they are yet  to know what daylight looks like. They keep hoping to find love too, even though they have no time to socialize.
Then there is the special category called "love on the net." These people go online just to meet their God sent. To be straight up honest about this category, I personally don't see anything wrong with it. However, it take a real skimmer; a real "discerner"; a real mature person that knows what they want, to depend on the net for a relationship.
Hoping that this is a great way to bring the right fish home can break lots of hearts, mind you. So what are the pros and cons of online dating?

Lets start with the good points:
-You get to know the person more mentally and spiritually as well as intellectually, instead of "hmm, check out them six-pack!" or "man this girl is sexy as **"
-You spend more time getting to know yourself by having to reflect on your good and bad qualities  : yes these are the intro questions normally asked on an online first date
-If you dont wanna go hang out, you may stay home behind your computer, having a nice chat on skype
-You become more creative, thinking up ways to keep the relationship going

Now the bad awkward points:
-The person behind the screen could be living a double/tripple life
-You become lazy at home, waiting for your date to show up online
-You become depressed if the special someone doesn't come online after one day
-You become anxious if the special someone doesn't reply your messages, then start to cook up reasons why you are not worth his/her time
-You become more disconnected from normal social life

...the negative points roll out easily by the way :-)

But yea, there you have it. Feel free to add your own opinions :-)

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***All blogs are written in the expectation of Funkè Ojo's next book, "My American Dream," coming out this summer 2013

Love on Point: Going Abroad

Love on Point: Going Abroad: My child will get the best of the best 'Cause top education is like heaven's gates So be it to sell my house and the rest For I k...

Going Abroad

My child will get the best of the best
'Cause top education is like heaven's gates
So be it to sell my house and the rest
For I know she'll make me proud in the end...(by Funkè Ojo)

These are the thoughts that linger in the minds of most parents before making that big decision to send their kids away from their roots, away from all they have learnt to love, to go study abroad. They even gamble saying, out of 5 kids if one makes it abroad then I am a happy man or woman. But who knows what the child would go through? Or the people she will meet that could change his or her life forever, either positively or negatively? The sacrifices he or she would have to make to "make it" in trying to fit into the new culture awaited? Do some ever fit in? How many commit suicide from peer pressure or simply lack of love?
Most parents would say, "oh, God will take care of him or her" or more often said "my brother is abroad, he will take good care of my child." Hmm....
Your brother abroad might also be trying to make ends meet to feed his family but for the shame of not being asked the dreadful question like "why must you sit abroad and suffer, come home," he keeps lieing to keep a front.
So parents, before you sell your most valueable land or your only family car, perhaps you could take some steps back to reflect. If your back up plan is your brother or sister abroad, remember that men can dissapoint. Period.

***with your Google account, you can comment on this blog :-)
***All blogs are written in the expectation of Funkè Ojo's next book, "My American Dream," coming out this summer

Google account

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Thank you,

The blog team.