The constant pounding in her head didn’t stop until she reached the entrance gate of her office building. The headaches were usually a sign that her night rest had been lousy. She forced herself not to think of last night. It was useless thinking of last night. Besides she had so much work waiting for her to dwell on last night’s happenings. As she alighted from her car, she stumbled and fell with her bottom. With a loud curse, she rose, kicked her car door shut and stormed into the building, frowning so thickly it marred her beautiful face.
With long strides, she moved to the front desk where she was certain messages waited for her and did not see the wooden bars. The minute she stepped on it, her bag flew off her shoulder as she was thrown to the ground. Righting herself to the mild amusement of the people in the hall, she kept thinking that today just wasn’t her day. What by the way was a pile of wood doing on the floor anyways? Looking around for the porter to castigate him, a very tall man dressed in blue overalls appeared at her right hand side.
‘Madam no vex abeg. Na me dey work the letter shelves and I,’ he was saying in heavily inflected English. As he talked, she tried not to notice that he was almost spitting in her eyes and his body odor repelled her so bad she fought the urge to cover her nose.
‘No wahala. Just clear it out before someone else gets really hurt.’ She quickly moved away from him to the front desk, collected her messages from the girl behind the desk who was more interested in the man at the other end of the hall, going through a stack of papers. Without a word, she turned away and got into the elevator. She depressed the button that would take her to her floor as two other occupants got in. as it began to ascend, she read her messages.
With a slight curse, she stuffed the note into the pocket of her polka doted skirt that still had dirt from her fall on it. Shaking her head in defeat, Egypt Daniels knew that the day was going to be a crappy one.
The small space that was her office usually irked the woman behind the little pinewood desk. More than once, she had applied for a larger office space and had so far been ignored. The storage room two doors down was what she wanted. It was filled with nothing but boxes and old files. Boxes and old files she could easily fit into her present work station.
She sighed and swirled her seat around to face the window that had its blinds drawn to let the sun rays stream in. that was when she heard the ruckus coming from outside. Getting off her chair, she moved to the window and looked down towards the noise and saw a small gathering. Her vantage point allowed her to see the two men in the middle of the formed circle. One man in a navy blue suit was holding a much smaller man in a brown suit by his collar and she shook her head. Tamuno Briggs was a trouble maker, loud mouthed and a complete braggart even if done innocently. He owned the IT firm two blocks down and she had a good nick name for him; money miss road. Two days ago she had gone to his building to complete the payment on a computer software she had purchased and had bumped into him.
‘My darling!’ His deep baritone voice boomed out, making her turn an unsmiling face to him, the shopping bag in her left hand.
‘Briggs I have told you to stop calling me that. I have a name now.’ His gap toothed grin only increased her irritation at him. And to think that she had once been addicted to open dentition. And why the hell was it that a man assumed he could have you because of his fat bank account? Ok so maybe she wouldn’t have anything to do with a man who couldn’t afford the simple comforts of life. The ranting and name calling brought her back to the present. Still staring outside, she realized the man on the receiving end was her boss’s son.
With another heavy sigh, she let herself out of the building and managed to squeeze in through the bodies gathered around the two men. A few minutes later, she got the gist of the argument which was short of silly to her. True the Range Rover was a magnificent machine which needed serious care but it was barely a scratch and did not in anyway warrant a fist fight. And yet men said women fought over silly things.
Forty minutes later, Dolores Brown found herself with a date for three nights in a row.
Pushing strands of her hair off of her face, she forced herself to read the paper in her hand. Oh she was reading it alright; she just never went beyond the first two lines. Yes so today was Friday the thirteen, which did not mean anything. Sure her car had refused to start this morning and the cab she had entered had gotten a flat half way through her journey to the office. She wasn’t even going to add the water that was splashed on her five feet from her office building and of course the breaking of her right shoe heel.
As she reread the second line again, she shook herself mentally and dropped the offensive paper on the coffee table by her right. What was the point? It wasn’t like she had a fairy god mother or even a genie to make this deal go through. Working for a banking firm wasn’t all she had thought it would be. Working in the marketing unit was pure slice of hell and she hated it. Very much so that she excelled in it. As she looked around the walls and heavily furnished lounge of TYLER OIL & GAS, she kept thinking as she eyed the receptionist that the lady’s job was heavenly. Sitting on a cushioned chair, a phone line at your disposal, 24 hour air conditioning, mediocre pay and no day off was so much better that her own job.
‘He will see you now.’ The object of her envy said in a shrill baby doll voice. She nodded her thanks and got up from where she sat and with directions by the door man she was able to locate the office she was going to. Thirty minutes later, she stormed out into the hall to the amazement of the door man who moved out of her way in the nick of time. As she drove away in the cool blue KIA provided by the bank, Bose Adams knew in her mind that today’s date was the worst ever recorded in the calendar.
It had been so long since she stood in a queue and the one in the banking hall was legendary. Her ATM card was hiding somewhere in the house and she had no idea where exactly. Getting another one right now wasn’t as important as withdrawing money immediately. The man in front of her was so burly she could hardly see the person before him and his body odor disturbed her so bad she had to move aside a bit out of the line. While waiting her turn, she kept thinking that banks made saving money so difficult and stressful.
Besides did she really need to hold on to the account? How much did she really have anyways? It wasn’t as if her salary from her job was large enough for a bank. She never got the chance to save anyway. There was always one bill and another to pay. And Emelia’s father hadn’t sent anything since oh say three years ago. Or was that five? She couldn’t really remember. She tried not to keep these things in her mind for the sake of not going gaga. Folusho had been a bad choice of a boyfriend but at that time, she didn’t care. He had been good to her and that was all that had mattered. Her shock came when she announced her pregnancy and he had bolted, giving a good reason of how it wasn’t working out between them.
Emelia was ten now and the cutest girl ever. He did what he could which was miserly as far as she was concerned.
The man had a big consulting firm and was rich enough to buy an island of his own. But was she bitter? No she was not. Emelia made it hard for her to stay bitter and truth be told, she was content. Sure she could use a bit more financial help but she was content. She had reached this level all on her own. Thankfully, she did not have to pay so much on transportation to the house where she worked as a keeper and that was saying something.
As the queue moved, she folded her arms around her middle and instinctively turned to her left and her eyes caught on a really tall Caucasian man in blue jeans and a white round neck t-shirt staring openly at her. In a funny way, it was like she had known someone was watching her. She tried to tell herself that she wasn’t wearing her shirt inside out or that her panties wasn’t on her head because no one looked at Francesca Ibok the way the man across the banking hall was staring. No one ever did.
The tall and almost skinny woman in the red kimono kissed her husband soundly before stepping back for him to enter the red ford truck.
‘Call me when you get there okay?’ She patted his cheek as he turned on the ignition and she stepped back to watch him drive away.
‘Drive safe.’ She yelled as he sped off. Smiling, She turned and walked back into the house, heading straight for her cell phone lying face down on the side stool by the leather sofa. Calmly punching in the digits stored in her brain she tried to mentally still the heavy beating of her heart as it raced.
‘How fast can you get here?’ She asked as the other end was received.
‘Good morning to you too.’ The cheerful voice on the other end replied. She laughed, the tone rich and dark.
‘Get your butt down here ASAP.’ She rolled her tongue, letting go of the cord she had been rolling around her fingers to trace an imaginary line down her cleavage.
Hanging up, she raced into the massive bedroom she occupied with her husband, its mirrored walls reflecting her image as she passed by to flounce on the massive king size bed in the middle of the room. It looked more like a sanctuary than a master bedroom with a huge chandelier hanging on the west end side of the ceiling. The room’s temperature as the AC was turned on full blast. She stripped off her kimono and marveled at the sight of her endowed chest, watching as her nipples stood erect at the thought of what was to come. She brushed her hair extension with well manicured fingers and as she touched herself intimately, January Chambers couldn’t help the sharp orgasm that shook her just as the bedroom door was flung open.
Growing up in a rich family did have its good ends. At least that’s what the five foot five lady was thinking as she moved through the rows of beds in the homeless shelter for orphaned kids. Her mother cooed at a dark baby boy who was trying to climb out of his cot. She had always felt sad in places like this because she was reminded of how unfair life was. Coming here had been a ritual her mother put her through during her formative years.
‘So you see how lucky you are.’ Were the words her mum used ever so frequently. As a child she had hated these homes. As a teenager, she had believed she had better things to do than visit a homeless shelter. As a youth she had wanted to be with her current boyfriend rather than tour a home for abandoned babies. She had been a tough rebel while growing up and hadn’t believed in anything money couldn’t buy. Money had been everything to her then and she never imagined a life without money. The thought was heart breaking and inconceivable.
Now as a young woman, Beeba White adored children and always looked forward to the smiles and laughter she and her mother brought to the homeless kids.
Inside the dim lit bar at the far north corner just off the centre was a round table with a metal bucket filled with ice cubes and three bottles of red wines surrounded by five tall wine glasses on it. It was Friday and the bar, barely empty was beginning to fill up to its full capacity. For most of the residents in the bursting city of Lagos, everyday was mostly hanging out day and bar owners couldn’t complain since obviously their coffers were filled constantly. But for the five women sitting by the table, every Friday night was special for them. It was the only day in the week they got to spend quality time together, to rejoice in each others happiness or bond tighter in time of sorrow. The tallest of the five women topped her glass as they
all watched a couple of teenagers gyrate their hips to the beats of Nelly Furtado’s Promiscuous.
‘Ahhh. Those were the days.’ January sighed before taking a sip of her drink. ‘So what’s been happening?’ She asked, swallowing and licking her lips.
‘Segun dumped me today.’ Egypt said, downing her drink and refilling almost immediately. Her friends all looked at each other but did not say anything. The topic of Segun had always been a sore one and they tried never to butt their heads into Egypt’s love life which sadly enough was always full of drama.
‘So finally the bobo has done what we all thought should have happened sooner.’ January said, leaning back into her seat.
‘What is that supposed to mean? I was good to him…’ Egypt began.
‘Sure you were. Bought his car, paid his rent, sent him on a vacation…need I go on?’
‘You have no right whatsoever to judge me after all everyone except your husband knows of your countless affairs.’
January was about ready with a reply and knowing her, it would be something extremely drastic. Ever the peace keeper, Beeba said the one thing she knew would break the impending word fight.
‘Asher is coming home this weekend.’
NOTE: was a copy and paste post so the system ignored most of my editing eg paragraphs and space etc…
@Phoenix,
Is this a novel excerpt, or the first part of a larger story?
I was OK with the first couple of short intros, but by the time I got to the third, the fourth, and the fifth, I had become disoriented. I saw that the introduced characters met up later, but for me, it would have worked better if the connection between the characters had been established earlier.
Having said that, the variety in the stories of the characters was quite interesting.
@TolaO yes its d first chapter of a larger story
i must say its not so easy writing a book about different characters and trying to keep up with all their adventures is something else and i thought that establishing a connection between the characters so early in d book would make d whole story abysmal and predictable to d reader…
thank you
@TolaO like i said to @sibbylwhyte, bring it on!!!
criticize more cos loads of chapters coming soon
More detailed criticism, @Phoenix, since you’ve asked for it.
Since this is part of a larger work, what about introducing fewer characters, with a more detailed description of each of the characters? I felt like I was drowning after a while, trying to remember who was who.
It would still be OK for the all the characters (including the unintroduced characters) to meet up; the rest of the characters can be introduced later.
Your writing is quite good, but there were some areas where I had to re-read to understand what was going on. For example:
which gave me the image of the bag flying off her shoulder because she stepped on the wood, and not because she was falling. I would rewrite this as
Then this:
This initially made me think that the woman who was irked and the woman who had the office were two different people.
I’d say:
.
I could say more, but you get the point.
If you had titled the story ‘Pockets Of Sentimentality – Part One’, then it would be clearer to me that more was to come. Looking forward to the rest.
All taken into consideration. Thank you! As for using “part 1″ well no cos that would just make me think…nollywood again. D next post will b chapter two though! Thank you! Keep d criticism coming pls!
Yea…interesting characters with their stories…The transition wasn’t smooth, got confused till the last paragraph brought back some semblance of order..
Well done though…$ß.
sibbylwhyte thank you …please say more about the transition not being smooth…its going to be quite a large story so criticize more biko!!! hahah lots more chapters coming soon o!!!
@sibbylwhyte……thank you…more criticize please… LMAO…seriously…dissect it more abeg!!!
It read like five different books
@kaycee…and is that good or bad?
If I must choose;
I’d say bad.
It’s here and there and I in the middle a lil’ confused until the later…..can be better
ok! thank you
Lovely character names.
thank u @louis …thats a good thing right?
Reads almost like desperate housewives. The other NSians have said it all. But hurry hurry with the rest already.
@johnnysnow … I know I know! Bunch of women doing the hang out ritual! Next chapter coming soon! Watch out! As Nollywood will warn us in that scary voice that makes u wonder in wat context d words mean! Lol. Thank you
Yeah, t’was a bit confusing and difficult keeping track of all the characters as I frequently re-read to know who was who, but then, very interesting. You deserve much commendation for the variety of stories in each life.
Next please…!
hahaha @chimzorom thats how i used to feel reading Jackie Collins novels once upon a time….
thank you very much, next chapter out soon
I feel the descriptions became too much at a point, which makes reading kinda tiring and distracts from the actions of the characters. I connected with it towards the end though.
It will make a very good story if you develop your characters well and the convos dont seem forced. You’ve started well, continue at that pace and don’t overuse description,
Waiting for the next.
@queenzayta… i guess so but i tot to introduce some of my main female characters in the first chapter. hoping the second chapter is cool cos everyones waiting for it! hahahah
‘She depressed the button’ Why not ‘pressed’?
‘‘Briggs I have told you to stop calling me that. I have a name now.’’. This made it sound as if she didn’t have a name before. Lose the ‘now’
‘Emelia was ten now and the cutest girl ever. He did what he could which was miserly as far as she was concerned.’ o_O? Confusing.
Transition problems; was wondering what U were writing for a while, as there was no way to know U were writing about different people at first. Maybe some sort of heading will help..
Overall, not bad. This kind of story will be tricky, cos along the line, some characters tend to seem more interesting than the others, and tend to demand more from U. Be careful with that.
Good luck.
@raymond… we are dealing with nigerian characters and nigerians have a certain way with speeches. “i have a name now” is perfect naija slang which is wat im aiming for…its like saying…”leave me alone now” now as opposed to naaaaa (u get my point?). so i wasnt wrong at all there.
what did u find confusing about the next paragraph u mentioned? the previous lines talked about the woman and her daughter’s father…..
transition problems? its easy to see im writing about different people really. each new character is seperated by a long gap as opposed to the hash or asterix sign which i did not use for fear of the signs being everywhere but i kind of get wat u mean. i could steal d style of one of my fave authors and use names as a heading so u know who’s story is coming up next?
it goes without saying that not all the characters would be interesting and some will b more demanding have u read any Jackie Collins novel?
thank you though! like i always say…keep the criticism coming y’all
I think Tola O has address most of the issues.
I agree with Raymond on the ‘now’ thing. I got what you were trying to do – but if a non-Nigerian reads that part of your story, he/she would come up with the very same question. But I get your point.
Does it work? I think that’s a whole other thing entirely.
What Bubbles is saying about the transition is that the chapters are evidently separated; and that’s supposed to indicate that it’s separate women. But when you consider the fact that you mentioned the name of the first character and then used ‘she’ and ‘woman’ for most of the other chapters; you’ve left the reader to think you’re still referring to Egypt Daniels (That’s so not a Nigerian name; is there a rationale for that?) in all the other chapters – hence making for confusion because she seems to be doing so much at once.
Understand?
You have an amazing story here though. Just tighten it up!