Author - idolor

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Oniovo: Aunty Betty
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Oniovo: diemu ode re?
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Oniovo: Cada
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Oniovo: Sibling Speak
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March in review: Still at it
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G.L.i.B-bed: The Island of Doctor Moreau
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G.L.i.B-bed: The Metamorphosis
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G.L.i.B-bed: The Picture of Dorian Gray
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G.L.i.B-bed: Fire and Fury
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Oniovo: B & B

Oniovo: Aunty Betty

She was your typical grandmother – friendly, motherly, sometimes sweet, old – fashioned, long -winded, nosy, annoying, traditional, etc.  Sharing our spacious compound with us – our immediate neighbours – were a grandparents’ couple. Another Urhobo pair in this largely Bini setting. Our step dad and them had been friends in another place and time before setting up their lives in Benin City. The man was the quiet one. A reed thin, wrinkled patriarch who spent a huge chunk of his retirement time staring at the flickering TV screen; the woman the voluble half of the two. A rather smallish, bespectacled female with energy quite unusual for a grandmother.  Their children were contemporaries of our much older siblings; it was their grandchildren (two of them specifically) who were closer in range to us the younger ones, and with whom we bonded (whenever they happened to be around). One or two of their maids became fast friends with Pru and Tg (siblings #9 & #10 respectively) due to the similarities in their ages.  However, most of the time, they were alone, and found companionship with our parents frequently. Well, more the woman than the man. To this end, we witnessed countless[…]

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Oniovo: diemu ode re?

Whether by coincidence or like minds, the siblings from both sides of the blend had such cool names. Lloyd. Cy. Anthony. Marie. Pru. Those with traditional monikers were equally easy – on-the-tongue. Tg.Onos. Edirin. (Which was funny because we had encountered some seriously weird native names while growing up. Oteri. Okwuovoriole. Okukubribri. Otaighoaitana, etc) Nicknames were butter- melting in a pan. Dudu, Bibi. Then there was mine. Idolor. A wrecking ball of a name, and the tag of the sibling penning this serie. Hola! Encantada! For a long time, my name felt wrong. Raise your hands if you can identify with this feeling. Amongst my siblings’ signatures (read: easy, English noms), I felt short – changed in the moniker department. No, I couldn’t fully appreciate the significance of being named after my paternal grandmother.  Or even the depth of meaning my appellation carried. I was blinded by the contortions it forced the tongue and lips to undergo. Make it easy for me amongst my peers was all I cared about at the time. Couldn’t my parents have done better by me, namely…? It was complicated further by my nickname – a compound word made up of a term for an[…]

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Oniovo: Cada

To further cloak their mischief, siblings #9 and #10 developed their own language. It might have been a fallout from the one adopted by all of us…or not; it is difficult to say. For theirs was a combination of English Language and an unrecognized Linguistic. It started off in plain, simple terms even if it took a while for comprehension to set in for us older siblings. (Then again, wasn’t that the raison d’etre of it?) ‘He thinks!’ ‘He can!’ Often uttered in frustration or anger but devoid of complete expression, or so they made us believe. A while later, it expanded: ‘He thinks but he doesn’t know he cannot.’ They both knew exactly what they spewed forth, while the rest of us found it amusing and innovative. Not a lesson teacher of theirs though. And because he made a mountain out of a molehill, it became grounds for endless taunting for the poor man. It was a code between both of them that allowed for expression without glaring disrespect for whomever they addressed. Sometimes they spoke proper English but in slurred speech and mangled words only they could decipher. Afterwards, it descended into gibberish to the ear but, as[…]

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Oniovo: Sibling Speak

It is difficult to say how the following words became part of our vocabulary. Blame it on the many influences around us then – music, films, people, books, slangs, etc.  All of them came together to evolve into a code we called our own.    Tight. Strangled. I’m almost done. Just this strangled part left. Look at the tight thing I want to iron! These twin words sufficed for size. Usually the tiny, minuscule or little kind in the context of the conversation. Occasionally it could be used for food. Here it refers to clothing.   Gauge. Standard. Like the set above, it is closely related to size but in food matters only. They denote the desired quantity as dictated by the intensity (or lack thereof) of hunger pangs battering the user. I said standard, standard! And you gave me gauge! Sorry. Erring party taking the plate away to adjust appropriately. Sometimes it was difficult telling the terms apart.   Bus stop. Unlike other words, this was inferred.  Occasionally it found its way into conversations but wasn’t as popular because it meant more to non-family members. Once again, the location of our house had everything to do with this word[…]

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March in review: Still at it

If you’re persistent, you’ll get it; if you’re consistent, you’ll keep it.   Ah, this month. My siblings series continued every Sunday to very encouraging, relatable feedback; this might be my best writing decision yet in recent times. No such uplook in my 9am – 5pm though; the Sahara looks more like an ‘inviting’ prospect compared to it. The slight boost which occurred last month was just  a ruse. It totally deceived me. Aaargh! Speaking of which, the financial editing I delved into this time last year appeared on my desk again this month. Hello, annual report season! I cannot, for the life of me, understand the pleasure derived from computing, compiling figures; it’s like watching paint dry. Even that seems more appealing. But edit the documents, I did. They made me yawn, bored me to tears and made me extra cash too. Thankfully, there is a season for them; all I need do is grin and grit my teeth, and get the work over and done with. I have to admit though, the first set of content I dealt with had my eyebrows slightly elevated in pleasant surprise. And yes, it’s also Easter season too, and holidays for the children with[…]

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G.L.i.B-bed: The Island of Doctor Moreau

You know what they say, there are three sides to a story – his side, her side and the truth. The diary written by the main protagonist of this book made me question his accounts of events in a particular location, time and again. And the fact that those who could corroborate his claims died, only made it even more suspicious. Nevertheless, this was an intriguing tale as I followed one man’s (and his assistant) quest to revolutionize scientific discoveries while dangerous tinkering with nature.

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G.L.i.B-bed: The Metamorphosis

This was such a sad volume of text. Compact but its melancholic tone ran the full length of it. Something insides of me kept nursing hope for a change of the situation but it never came. This book put a damp on my once happy decision to stick to digital copies for a while; it tested the sense of that resolve. I had to remind myself that paperbacks were also capable of forlorn themes. Thankfully, the size of the book didn’t allow me wallow in misery for too long.  

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G.L.i.B-bed: The Picture of Dorian Gray

After Fire and Fury, I decided to continue in this digital reading path…for now. And it is for books such as this that I’d endure the inconvenience of an e-copy version. Such enriching literature, the kind that kept me panting for more beautiful prose, enjoyable text, mesmerizing content. The Picture of Dorian Gray ticked off all the boxes for me – credible, enthralling plot; complex, intriguing characters; and the icing? well – written, well – rendered prose. A bonus was the trip down memory lane to my university days of studying the classics. It also went further to unravel the mystery of the titular character whom I first happened upon in the film, The LXG (League of Extraordinary Gentlemen). Truly an excellent start to my journey of classic literature in digital form.

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G.L.i.B-bed: Fire and Fury

E- books are never my thing. The process involved doesn’t make sense to me. Why would I want to rely on batteries or electricity in order to read a book? How inconvenient! But for the peculiarity that is Donald Trump’s presidency, I made an exception. My first read this year was the e-copy version of Fire and Fury. Initially, it reaffirmed my conviction about e-books and why I don’t prefer them, but I ploughed on. It didn’t help either that the book wasn’t so well – written. However, it delivered on the entertainment front and inner workings of the white house which I sought. What made this book more poignant for me were the characters featured who are real – life and on TV.

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Oniovo: B & B

We might as well have erected a signpost, replete with opening hours, services offered and, perhaps, rates. Thus, owning the other status thrust upon us. We could have converted the BQ to our area of operations, and, who knows, raked in money enough to build three residences in various locations; one we would live in, then lease out the others to a church and a bank – GTB perhaps, when they appeared early in the millennium. Wishful thinking. None of the above happened. But please read on, there’s a method to this madness. So most of the time, our house belonged to us because, well, we paid the rent. Most of the time also, it didn’t. As a revolving door swirled people in and out of a building, so was our home for out-of-town guests who were family, friends or family – friends. For all the perks it afforded us, the location was also the bane of our existence. Most times it was a B & B (and lunch and supper and sleepover and whatever else) spot for single digit visitors to whole families. Most times, as it was back then, there were no fore warnings or indications of visits[…]

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