GOZI: The Global Brand

GOZI: The Global Brand

Gozi is more than a fashion brand; studying in London, living in Japan and still firmly in touch with her Nigerian roots, she is a global ambassador of entrepreneurship. Her label U.Mi-1 supersedes the regular clothing convention; she cleverly infuses her engineering education into the construction of her clothes.


GOZI

Ngozi Ochonogor better known by her brand name, Gozi, is a fashion designer who lived in Japan until she recently moved to London a few months ago. Japan, wow! That’s what I thought. However, the more I learnt about her, the more I realised she was completely different to anyone I’d ever met, after all how many successful fashion designers have you heard of with a Masters degree in software engineering. “All my life I’ve wanted to differentiate myself, I chose software engineering because it sounded cool!” Gozi says before bursting into her contagious laugh. She’s right, in an era where everyone studied law, medicine perhaps even architecture, I.T was virgin territory even more so was software engineering which she studied at Imperial College, UK. “In my first year of University, I realised it wasn’t my calling. I told my mother I wanted to study fashion and she said my father would disapprove. I finished my engineering degree and went on to gain a Masters degree” she says.

However, during her studies she always encountered a problem: shopping. In her mind’s eye she had a specific idea of an outfit she wanted and would trawl the streets of London, looking for a particular style- which of course she never found. This spurred her on to pursue her true calling: fashion. “I enrolled at the Central School of Fashion, a couture school and within a week, I knew this is what I wanted to do,” she says. The world must have conspired for her to achieve her goal; in her first year of fashion school she began retailing ladies wear at a boutique in Paris and by 1995 she had a stall at the famous Portobello market in West London. “When I began selling at Portobello, my father began taking my fashion career seriously. Every Saturday morning I would wake up at 4am and cycle to the market,” she says deep in thought, slightly hunched over and subconsciously twisting her short locks. It’s clear Gozi is an extremely determined woman, her hard work paid off and the brand expanded. She showcased at London Fashion Week, her clothes were stocked at various stalls and stores around London and she was the first ‘upcoming’ designer to ever showcase at Paris Fashion Week, on-schedule (alongside the ‘big brands’).
Once she finished fashion school she decided to move to Japan. “I always thought I was cool, but at fashion school all the Japanese students blew my mind. They combined an array of colours with layering of clothes in mind-boggling ways yet still ever chic, classy and edgy. I loved their style. Apart from the business aspect of production, I’ve always wanted to go to Japan,” she says before bursting into giggles.


U.Mi-1

Leaving London for a holiday Gozi arrived in Japan, she stayed for a few months and fell in love with everything the country had to offer, the lifestyle, the culture, even the food- with the exception of missing her family, friends and fried plantain- she settled. She cites a similarity between Lagos and Kyoto. “When I got there life was slow, one really learns to exercise patience in Japan. Just like Nigeria when it comes to business they love meetings, they can have 10 meetings to conclude on one issue. The city is also just as over populated as Lagos, there’s a lot of traffic and it’s a bustling, thriving city.” In Lagos, due to high rental prices most newlyweds cannot afford their own property. However, in Kyoto, due to lack of space it’s difficult to find accommodation. Gozi says, “Even though the circumstances are completely different, the end results are the same; young couples living with other family members.” Based on these findings, Gozi was inspired to create her latest label U.Mi-1 which stands for ‘You and Me are One.’

“I promised myself not to have any more fashion shows, instead I setup art installations which creates more dialogue and unity.” Gozi says proudly. The U.Mi-1 collection focuses on collaborations with a range of artists from sculptures to screen-printers, she infuses their work charmingly into her designs and it translates beyond a piece of clothing. “The process of creating the pieces with other artists becomes informative. I share my experiences, we educate each other about cultures and that is what usually inspires the collection, the art form of storytelling.” Gozi’s style is unique and her brand is identifiable from the detailing which is often inspired by cubism and architecture. The construction of her clothes seems mechanical; showing off her engineering expertise.


CHANGE

The U.Mi-1 range is currently being sold in stores in Kyoto, Japan. The most popular actors and singers in Japan are regular clients of hers. Having conquered Japan, she decided to move back to London six months ago. “I moved back to Europe to become more central, to be an international brand. I exhibit at trade shows in Paris rather than catwalk shows because it’s simply business.” She says firmly. The few months she has been in London has proved worthwhile, this month (May) her collection will be stocked at Wolfe & Badger, a contemporary store in Notting Hill. By the end of the year expect her U.Mi-1 denim range to be available in Lagos.
Despite her growing brand, fashion to Gozi is just a means by which she can express herself; her real ambition is to bring about change, especially in Nigeria. “If I could I would improve the light and security sectors. I would not hesitate to bring my factory in Japan into Nigeria. We have over 150 million hard working people in Nigeria. I would train and employ therefore creating more jobs in our society.” Gozi is currently manufacturing in Japan, UK and China.

Gozi is clearly on a blazing path of success, her clothes are a reflection of herself: systematic, structured yet incredibly stylish. Beyond her designs what I admire most is her ability to see the beauty in others, she realises that stories and experiences connects us all. The more dialogue is formed, the more educated we become, the more similarities we share...U.Mi-1.

FINAL FOUR


1) If you found out for certain there’s a Heaven and Hell how would you change your life?

As a Christian, I do believe there’s a Heaven and Hell, so my life would remain the same.


2) If you had to name the one thing that frightens you most about growing old, what would it be?

I guess not accomplishing my dreams. Growing old is okay because I believe as long as I am breathing I can do whatever I set my mind to.


3) If you could have any view in the world visible from you bed, what would it be?

The Ocean, I love water.


4) If you could be the house cat of any person on Earth, whose would you choose to be?

I would be God’s, oh wait, He is not a person on Earth. Then I would choose to be my own house cat, I love myself! (Laughs loudly)

TANNAZ BAHNAM is a TRIPLE THREAT

Tannaz Bahnam is a Triple Threat: Photographer, Marketer and Entrepreneur

Tannaz has travelled the world twice over and worked in numerous places but it’s only since this Iranian beauty landed in Nigeria in 2008 has she really blossomed. She has exhibited her photographs of her extensive travels, she is the brand marketer for ICE Watch and most recently- among other things- setup her lifestyle website, www.LostInLagos.com


Pictures, Latte and Ice

Tannaz Bahnam moved to Lagos in January 2008 for a six month project with National Geographic. “During my report with the National Geographic, I met my Lebanese husband here and once the project finished, I stayed,” she says with a contagious smile. Although she holds a Master Degree in Diplomacy, it is quite irrelevant to her current career path; she is definitely a jack of all trades. “Because of my passion for travelling and exploring, photography plays an important role in my life,” says Tannaz. Taking photographs was a means for her to document her daily lifestyle, from different cultures to cityscapes; Tannaz discovered and captured it all. She has even had her photos exhibited at the Life House in Lagos.
When she is not running around taking pictures, you may find her distributing her own brand of Chai Latte, T.Kup. “There are lots of things I love about Nigeria, if there were things I’d miss from home such as Chai Latte, I realised that in Nigeria if you can’t find it, you can make it,” she says pointing to her glass jar of branded Chai Latte. “Most Nigerians would never ask for Chai Latte, but now it’s available for them to try, it’s in demand in several stores and cafe’s across Lagos.” Tannaz really does embrace Lagos and all it has to offer. Her mindset is incredibly positive; where others may sit back and grumble she overcomes her obstacles by creating her own opportunities and filling the void in the market- even if it is with Chai Latte. “In Lagos, there’s always an opportunity for growth and development, any ideas you have, you can implement,” she says encouragingly.
Belgian brand, Ice Watch are good friends of Tannaz’s, they required someone with charm and intelligence to help market their watch in Nigeria. “I started working with Ice Watch as the brand manager thinking it would be part-time, but I have to handle everything from distribution, stock-taking to marketing, which obviously became a full time job.” Tannaz says whilst subconsciously playing with her white and gold Ice watch. She has been an intricate and effective member of the Ice watch team; since she came on-board, the company now retails in 17 locations throughout Lagos. A job well done!


Lost in Lagos

Tannaz is the definition of superwoman, as well as all the aforementioned ventures, she has recently setup her own website called www.LostInLagos.com; she clearly displays entrepreneurial qualities. The idea behind the website was created as a result of Tannaz’s far-reaching travels. She finds that, “the better I know a city, the easier it is to adjust. However, with Lagos it’s much different as everywhere is hidden and I either stumble upon it or get a recommendation from someone.” Tannaz began her own internal database of all upscale restaurants, bars, spas and gyms in Lagos. “I know all the names of roads and exactly how to get there, as a result all my friends would constantly call me to provide information. I decided to collate this information into a directory and that’s how ‘lost in Lagos’ started” she says enthusiastically. Tannaz really is a walking bank of information, she could even tell me which aisle in a supermarket to get flavourings for coffee...random!

However, Lost in Lagos, is more than a simple directory, it’s an upscale guide to different lifestyle options in Lagos. Not only does it provide the basic information of a company, it now rates the company and allows consumers to give feedback on their experience on everything from the food to the customer service. Have you ever complained about the lack of customer service in Nigeria...of course you have. Well, no longer do we have to sit back and allow staff of restaurants or bars, continue in their impolite ways. Tannaz believes that customer service needs to be improved as competition increases. She says, “In the past there was a general, ‘if you don’t like it, leave’ attitude but as consumers we are more knowledgeable and we have a say in what we deserve as paying customers.” In a booming society such as Lagos where every month a new cafe, spa or bar opens up, no longer do we have to be content with sub-standard services.

Tannaz’s vision for the website is to take the brand beyond the virtual realm, into a 3-D reality. To compliment the website, lost in Lagos often hosts outdoor events, the next will be a two-day lifestyle event taking place at the Federal Palace hotel. “We are having a lifestyle event not an exhibition, it will bring together companies that are on the website live with their consumers, expect over 50 vendors, ranging from bars, spas to fashion retailers and there will also be live music performances. It’s not just a social event, tickets will be sold and we aim to infuse all that Lagos has to offer. We would want people to come and purchase from vendors and not just for the free goody bags.” She says with a coy laugh.


Positivity

From working for National Geographic, to exhibiting photos, making her own brand of Latte, creating a successful website and did I mention she writes for magazines too, Tannaz Bahnam has garnered much inspiration from this pulsating city, Lagos. Rather than complain about what the city is lacking, she has found herself and is giving back to the society. This positive attitude is what I encourage others to adopt, nothing will change if we all sit back and point faults, time is better spent on solutions. If Lagos could change Tannaz’s life and she has only been here for three years, what is your excuse? Others may have been frustrated by the challenging lifestyle in Lagos, but Tannaz saw this as a positive and informative opportunity. What will you do next time you are lost in Lagos?


Final Four

1) When was the last time you felt intimidated at a business meeting?

I often feel intimidated before most meetings but once I get started and begin to talk with confidence about ‘Lost in Lagos,’ the feeling of intimidation disappears.


2) Since adolescence, in what 3 year period do you feel you experienced the most personal growth and change?

Definitely the last 3 years; I feel everything I have experienced in my entire life was a build up for the last three years. I changed jobs, moved to Nigeria, got married and setup my own company. It has definitely been the most stable three years of my life and I guess I have Nigeria to thank for that.


3) What three things in your life do you feel most grateful for?

My family, my husband and my Cannon Rebel camera; It has given me a whole new view on everywhere I’ve visited. As corny as it may sound I now view life through a different lens.


4) Complete the Ceteris Paribus (all things being equal) In five years I...

I will have grown ‘Lost in Lagos’ to the level of Facebook (just kidding!) Lost in Lagos will be a recognised brand, it will have expanded to lost in Nigeria, then lost in Africa- well maybe in 10 years. But definitely in 5 years time I will have expanded Lost in Lagos to include lots of other Nigerian states.

KATHLEEN STAFFORD: Dignitary, Wife and Artist

Kathleen Stafford: Dignitary, Wife and Artist


Travelling from Iran to Italy, Tunisia to Tennessee is part of Kathleen Stafford’s role as the wife of the consulate general of America. Nevertheless, she is not just another ‘ex-pat’ following her husband worldwide, she is a hard working artist that takes inspiration from her travels and turns them into unique works of art.
The world is her muse and at the stroke of a brush she translates a manic marketplace into an inviting array of colours and expressions, with the use of water colours and an interesting technique called collography. The paintings burst through the surface as she depicts the beauty of the world with more than colours, you can run your fingers over the paintings and feel the embellishment of the young girl’s native materials, the texture of the chief’s skin, the life that is captured in the image.


COLLOGRAPHING

Collograph is a printing technique in which the artist adds materials to a rigid background such as wood or cardboard. The resulting design is built up like a collage, creating a relief. The design is then inked and printed on paper. In the most basic form it embosses the artwork, but one can create a variety of textures. Collographing is cheaper than printing, all you need is cardboard and you do not need any acid, just glue, acrylic and paint. “The process is what I love most,” Kathleen explains. “I take pictures then I print them in black and white so I just fixate on the expressions of the person and not distracted by the abundance of colours. When I add my own colours to the paintings I feel I’m bringing it to life” she says.

Kathleen has always been surrounded by creativity, her grandfather was an artist and inventor but she does not believe she has a ‘talent’. With her blond hair bouncing and a bubbly personality to match, she humbly says, “I don’t think I was born with an exceptional talent, most people at the peak of their career work hard towards it. Everyone from Beckham to Picasso, all dedicated hundreds of hours towards their passion. I was lucky to realise my passion early and work hard at it as that’s the true key to success.” She majored in water colour at the University of Tennessee before heading to Italy, where she mastered drawing the human figure. Kathleen is not only an avid artist, but devoted wife too. How many women do you know have children away from family and friends, learn Arabic, Italian, and live in war-torn countries like Ivory Coast? This has been Kathleen’s life for over 20 years.


TWO DECADES IN AFRICA

Kathleen’s premier experience of Africa was Tunisia in the 80’s. Her green eyes light up as she reminisces and says, “Cairo was our next destination. I was very busy with work and it was an incredibly productive time. I painted everything from landscapes of the city to portraits of the locals. Cairo may possibly be my favourite destination because of the memories I carry, I gave birth to my son David there.” There was no violence and she was free to mingle with the locals and take pictures of them in their natural state; not posing. “I try to remain observant and I am forever amazed and charmed by the beauty in Africa. At first the locals object to a foreigner taking their picture but I usually give them a copy and they are at ease.”

Her husband was posted to Ivory Coast and there she lived trying to learn French, raise a son, run an art business as well as contribute to her dignitary duties. “I was in Ivory Coast during the 9/11 occurrence and had to be evacuated for safety reasons. I stayed in America and that’s when I started working on my collograph collection called, ‘African Icons’” she says proudly. Returning to Abidjan in 2003, life was relaxed; security was tight, miniscule amount of crime and according to Kathleen, “it was common to see cannon tanks patrolling the streets. However, recently it has become incredibly tense; everyone was worried about the impending war. It’s hard living life in constant fear and it was a relief to leave.”


LIFE IN LAGOS

In August 2010, Kathleen and her husband arrived in Lagos. “Lagos is like no other city in Africa, everyone is extremely friendly and there is more of an arts community here than any other I’ve lived in” she says with a firm nod. Within a few months Kathleen has discovered and infiltrated the art aficionados in Lagos. Rubbing her hands with excitement, she says, “I have met wonderful people like Nike Okundaye, owner of Nike’s Centre for Art and Culture where I will be exhibiting my works and Prince Yemisi Shyllon who has offered me the opportunity to teach at a complimentary workshop at the University of Lagos.” This whirlwind lifestyle may seem lonesome to most but to Kathleen her natural free-spirit embraces it. She delves into her work to overcome any burdens that may arise; besides her perky personality allows her to make friends easily. “My life is very different, I am almost sixty and I have never lived in one place for more than 5 years. At times, it gets difficult especially being away from family in America and for my son as he has never had one consistent group of friends; as soon as he makes friends, we move country.” In Lagos, Kathleen makes friends at the American Women’s Club (AWC) where the motto is ‘bloom where you are planted.’ The AWC supports a variety of charities, raises money and distributes it to support the community which is of great importance to Kathleen. Art is more than just capturing expressions and painting scenery, she believes it’s a reflection of hard work and enriching others either through the appreciation of beauty or teaching students, thus enabling them to develop their skill. She is reaching out to her surrounding community; wherever she is planted, she blooms.


FINAL FOUR

1) What is your most treasured memory?

I remember my husband sitting on the side of the bed 24 hours after our son was born, holding him and saying he has his ears.

2) Describe a moment in time when you put everything on the line to bet on yourself.

Once in Iran I was climbing the wrong side of a shale mountain, which was crumbling and very dangerous. I knew I had to survive; I focused and forced myself to keep going, stay positive and not think about failure or death. If ever I encounter a difficult situation, I draw on that moment and use it to overcome any hurdles....wait, did I actually answer the question? (giggles)

3) If you had the chance to have dinner with any two people, dead or living who would they be and why?

I would love to meet my favourite artists Picasso and Matisse during their last sets of paintings and listen to their conversation. The pair used to have arguments with each other but rather retaliate with words they would respond with a painting. A picture is worth a thousand words.

4) What 3 things are you most thankful for?

My husband, my son and I am lucky that I’m happy most of the time. I have a fortunate lifestyle all of which I’m thankful for.

The Ongoing Battle to Spik Rait and Saund Rait

Not until I arrived at their home office did I realise that élan magazine is correctly pronounced a-laan (ei’la:n). “It is derived from a French word,” Biola Ufeli informs me with her elegant poise, deliberate stress and ever friendly manner. Her deep dimples sinking further beneath her cheekbones as she corrects my French pronunciation of ‘a-laan’. “We all know about the cringe worthy ‘h’ factor and dreaded ‘th’ factor where simple words like ‘house’ are pronounced as ‘ouse’ and ‘that’ as ‘dat’. However, to those who suffer from this ill-pronunciation, it is very natural. They are simply unaware of their speech impediment; after all, how can you treat a problem if you are unaware you have one?” she says.

Spi:k Rait and Saund Rait is the brainchild of both Sidney and Biola Ufeli. They met at Radio Nigeria in 1977 and it was ‘love at first sight,’ according to Sidney. In his incredibly well spoken and charismatic manner he says, “I dropped out of medical school in pursuit of passion. I do not have a degree but I am arguably one of the best presenters Radio Nigeria has ever had.” In 1995, he left Radio Nigeria because of its financial constraints. Back when Oxbridge College was a finishing school, they paid him N6,000 for a two-hour lecture, while his monthly wages at Radio Nigeria were much less. “I immediately realised that I had undervalued my worth,” he says. “I discussed with my wife, left Radio Nigeria and we set up the company. The rest is history.”

The problem

The Ufelis have worked as speech and etiquette experts for over 15 years. They have worked with various broadcasters at Silverbird TV as well as various schools including Corona, Vivian Fowler, King’s and Queen’s Colleges. Although their expertise has been used to generate eloquent teachers, the education and teacher training courses available in Nigeria counteracts their efforts. As Biola points out, there are barriers to getting their message widespread across the country.

“The average Nigerian is more familiar with their native language or the common dialect, pidgin,” she says. “Not everyone speaks enough ‘proper’ English for it to be understood at an indigenous, mainstream level.

“With such a diverse culture across Nigeria and a plethora of ethnicities, to overcome the language barrier, pidgin has become the most common language used to communicate. If the average Nigerian thinks in pidgin, they will speak pidgin and English will forever be a secondary language. Could you send your cook, driver or house-help for an interview for the same job position in America and expect them to accurately express themselves with a firm command of the English language? No!

“It was not always like this; there was a past generation when the BBC had a training school in Radio Nigeria, when there were strict broadcasting standards. English was deemed in Nigeria as the correct language to be spoken by lawyers, doctors, broadcasters and teachers: educated people. But somewhere over the last few decades these expectations have been lowered and the lines blurred.”

There could be a misconception that the Ufelis are anti-pidgin. That is not the case. Their point is though we in Nigeria do not teach pidgin as a standard language in schools, it is the most widely used and most accepted language in our country. If our children at home and with peers are constantly speaking pidgin as their primary language, is it any surprise when so many fail basic English exams?

The solution

Biola in her perfect ladylike tone says, “What seems most worrying is that teachers are being trained but not in the right courses. No course in Nigeria encourages speech training. Sidney is BBC-trained and in turn passes on these standards to our students. We are members of the International Society of Protocol and Etiquette as well as members of the English speaking board,” she says with a smile that manages to be both demure and debauched. It seems the global community has recognised the importance of the role speech plays in education and implements it into their academic courses, thus enabling the population to thrive at the same level of communication.

Business and pleasure

Despite all this, what is most fascinating about the couple — beyond the passion they share for their jobs — is the passion they share for each other. Nowadays, it is hard to have a genuinely happy marriage and it is incredibly stressful to run a successful business but these two defy logic and do both with enviable ease.

“I knew she was going to be my wife the moment we shook hands at Radio Nigeria,” Sidney says confidently. There was a delay in their marriage due to family differences; Sidney is from Delta and Biola from a Yoruba background. Despite the family’s concerns, they threw caution to the wind.

“One morning we decided to go to a registry and we got married. We sent the family pictures informing them of our marriage. No traditional, no white wedding, just me and my wife and that’s the way we have always been,” he says.

They both agree that the basis for any marriage is God. While Biola nods her head in agreement, Sidney says, “There should never be any dictation, always a discussion. We talk about everything and share everything, even my pension. After all she is a smart woma. If she can take care of me, our kids and the home, surely she is capable of looking after a business.”

Whether or not you agree with the Ufelis, one thing they cannot be criticised against is their passion for life. They clearly love their jobs, their children and most especially each other. They have spent majority of their careers enriching other people’s lives from governors to the youth, all of whom have benefited from the Spi:k Rait Saund Rait program. They are actively improving the education standard of our community, a little step at a time.

Final four

1) What legacy you would like to leave behind?

We have trained hundreds of people and even have a program called ‘Train the Trainer’. Let others spread our legacy by continuing to inform and educate others of what they have learnt from Spi:k Rait Saund Rait.

2) Do you judge others by higher or lower standards than you use to judge yourselves?

The same; we expect you to be as good as we are if not better.

3) Who is the one (non-family member) who has done the most to make you who you are today?

Lots of people have been instrumental in our lives. Above them all has to be God. By his grace and mercy, we have gotten this far in life, and for that we are ever thankful.

4) Is free time or downtime a waste of time? Do you make this time count?

In our free time in between lectures we try to go for quiet lunches. Or at times we take the children to the Eko Hotel for the weekend for a much-needed getaway.

Nigeria's Untapped Resources

Nigeria's Untapped Resources

Nigeria is well known as an oil producing country, but have you ever given thought that there may be other untapped resources that are of higher economical value? Take for example bitumen; which is sticky, tar-like form of petroleum whose primarily use is for paving roads. Did you know that at approximately 42.74 billion metric tonnes, Nigeria has the second largest deposit of bitumen in the world? It covers 120 kilometres of the coastal belt around Lagos, Edo, Ogun and Ondo States of the country.



If we tapped into this resource, Nigeria could benefit in two ways: all the roads in the country could be fixed as bitumen is the main ingredient in tarmac, secondly through technological advances; it is now common to upgrade bitumen into synthetic crude oil. The largest bitumen deposit in Athabasca, Canada has become very profitable especially since the increase in oil prices. As of 2006 Canadian crude bitumen production averaged about 1.1 million barrels per day and was projected to rise to 4.4 million barrels per day by 2020. The total amount of crude bitumen in Alberta which could be extracted is estimated to be about 310 billion barrels which at a rate of 4.4 million barrels per day would last about 200 years. I believe that eventually the natural oil Nigeria produces will one day cease and we better start thinking of alternatives. Bitumen can provide the same if not more financial stability than raw crude oil; lest we forget it can also be used to build all the roads we so regularly complain about. Can you believe we have so much bitumen but we still import it when we need to re-build roads? How absurd!



Though Bitumen was discovered in Nigeria over a century ago, the mineral has laid waste due to neglect, distractions and undue diversions. I believe that the commercialization of bitumen will aid the nation's economy and reap many benefits such as creating thousands of jobs, boosting foreign exchange earnings, as well as promoting infrastructural rehabilitation development and expansion. There is no doubt that we require more investors in Solid Minerals development , however they must be mindful of the need to provide adequate protection for the environment in which they will operate, and in particular, to be sensitive to the sensibilities of the communities within which they will carry out their business activities.



Nigeria has a lot of gifted people who can provide world changing benefits, but does the community or government tap into this talent or take advantage of it, no! After all have you heard of Philip Emeagwali? I can bet not. So who is Philip Emeagwali, and what has he done that has made him so famous? Emeagwali first entered the international limelight in 1989 when he received the prestigious Gordon Bell Prize for performing the world's fastest calculation at 3.1 billion calculations per second. This calculation was remarkable not only because it was twice as fast as the previous world record, but also because of the method used to achieve this phenomenal task. Rather than use a multimillion dollar supercomputer, Emeagwali used the Internet to access 65,536 small computers simultaneously (called massively parallel computers). This technology is revolutionizing the oil industry as it is used to help simulate how to recover oil from oilfields, thus helping oil producing nations (including Nigeria) to efficiently extract more oil and increase their oil revenues. It is also applicable to the field of meteorology as it can be used to help predict weather patterns for the next 100 years forecast.
Since this invention, Emeagwali has made numerous other achievements and received dozens of honors and awards across the globe in the field of mathematics, science and computers. What I find pitiful is that Emeagwali’s talent was discovered in Nigeria however it could not be nurtured due to lack of government interests and poor educational advancements. He was lucky enough to get sponsorship and study in America where his talent was fully developed and has now changed the use of the internet as we know it. If his talent was taken advantage of in Nigeria, we could easily be at the forefront of scientific and technological advancements. But, just like our oil, Emeagwali was discovered but then exported out of the country only to be refined and sold back to us at a much higher rate as we are not taken full advantage of the resources we as a nation are blessed with.



During the Nigeria Biafra War when Emeagwali was a mere refugee, his kinsfolk developed a self-sufficient petroleum refining method which Nigeria is yet to discover. Philip Emeagwali is not the only Nigerian to use existing resources and push them to their fullest potential to achieve unsurpassed results that would revolutionize several major industries at once. Remember Emmanuel Egbujo, the inventor of the solar powered car?
Nigeria has many of untapped resources, like our climate which can sustain the growth of products such as: cocoa beans, rice, sugar cane, lead and gold. I believe that the most important of Nigeria's untapped resource is the type of Emeagwali’s genius which lies grossly underdeveloped in millions of Nigerian children and even in ourselves.

UNREST AT HOME

UNREST AT HOME
There has been a lot of disruption in several countries this week causing various forms of unrest. A few weeks ago, I reported on the sinking of a South Korean warship and the rumours that North Korea was responsible for the attack. This week, these speculations have developed and within a matter of days relations between the two Koreas have returned to the freezer. The diplomatic goal now will be to ensure that a renewed cold war on the Korean peninsula does not generate into a hot conflict. In Ghana, communities have been destabilized and forced to flee. Whilst in Kingston, Jamaica gun battles are taking placing in the streets between the police and civilians which has already resulted in loss of life.




The relationship between the two Koreas is definitely unstable and causing political, military and social unrest. North Korea is to cut all relations with South Korea. The move comes after an international report blamed North Korea for sinking a South Korean warship. North Korean Pyongyang denies it torpedoed the South Korean Cheonan near the inter-Korean maritime border on 26 March, killing 46 sailors. South Korea says it plans to refer North Korea to the UN Security Council, and is seeking a unified international response to the incident. Reports have also announced the severing of all ties - including communications - said the North was also banning South Korean ships and planes from its territorial waters and airspace. North and South Korea are technically still at war after the Korean conflict ended without an armistice in 1953. While there were hopes of reconciliation a few years ago, relations have been deteriorating since then and now appear to be at their lowest point in a decade. Amid the rising tensions, Seoul announced on Sunday it was ending trade relations with the North in response to the sinking of the Cheonan.




South Korea has also said it will drop propaganda leaflets into the North to tell people about the sinking, as well as setting up giant electronic billboards to flash messages. It has resumed propaganda broadcasts to the North, playing radio programmes that will soon be broadcast via border loudspeakers.




Koreans maybe experiencing conflict due to military interference but in Ghana there is ethic instability. Around 3,500 refugees have crossed into northern Togo from Ghana, Togo's security minister says. They are victims of ethnic conflict and land disputes in the northern part of Ghana, he said. The refugees started arriving last week and consist mainly of women, children and young people. Ghanaian refugees fleeing into northern Togo to escape unrest at home have become a regular occurrence in recent years. Temporary shelter camps have been set up in Tandjouare in northern Togo. After visiting the camp, Security Minister Colonel Mohammed Atcha Titikpina said: "We have come in the name of the government of Togo to express our sympathies and solidarity with our [Ghanaian] brothers and sisters."Our immediate task is to find the resources to provide these refugees with emergency relief supplies, security, feeding, clothing and temporary rehabilitation structures." In 1994-95, land disputes in northern Ghana erupted into ethnic violence, resulting in the deaths of 1,000 people and the displacement of a further 150,000.




Jamaican Prime Minister Bruce Golding has vowed to restore order after at least 31 deaths during an anti-drug offensive in Kingston. He said he regretted the loss of life as security forces battled fighters loyal to a suspected drug trafficker sought by the US. Mr Golding said police would continue searching for illegal guns and crime suspects. The whereabouts of alleged drug lord Christopher "Dudus" Coke are unknown. He has thousands of loyal followers who have promised to protect him at any cost. Police say they have detained more than 200 people and seized arms and ammunition. New gun battles raged on Tuesday as police and soldiers searched Kingston's Tivoli Gardens district for Mr Coke. The fighting has intermittently blocked the road to Kingston's airport and forced some flights to be cancelled. Western countries such as the US and Britain have warned their citizens against travel to Kingston and its surrounding area in the current circumstances.



Mr Coke, 41, insists he is a legitimate businessman and enjoys the support of many impoverished Kingston residents who see him as a benefactor. The US justice department accuses him of being one of the world's most dangerous drug barons. Thousands of heavily armed police and soldiers have been making their way through the capital's most violent slums, battling masked gunmen loyal to Mr Coke. Gangs from slums just outside the capital also joined the fight, erecting barricades on roadways and shooting at troops. Mr Coke is said to lead a gang called the Shower Posse - owing to the volume of bullets used in shootings - and operate an international smuggling network. Drugs trade is deeply entrenched in Jamaica, an island nation of 2.8 million people with one of the highest murder rates in the world.

The problem here I believe is propaganda: Dudus is seen by many in Jamaica as a kind of Robin Hood figure, a protector of the poor. Whilst in Korea, each country wants to believe their country is better and more powerful. Everybody blames everyone else and is quick to pull the trigger. Am I the only one to worry about the loss of innocent lives during the showmanship of artillery and armour?

(Written By Fade Ogunro. Published in PM Newspaper on Wed 26th May 2010, page 5)

DRUG SCANDALS

DRUG SCANDALS

It is not uncommon for rock stars and perhaps mentally unstable people to become familiar with drugs or even abuse them. We have often heard about people suffering from financial constraints selling drugs; but what are we to think when politicians are arrested on suspicion of smuggling drugs... Well that is exactly what happened to Eme Zuru Ayortor, a member of the Nigerian Edo state House of Assembly. Nigerian drug enforcement officials say Mr Ayortor swallowed nearly two kilograms of cocaine in order to fund his election campaign



Police say body scanners revealed the contents of his stomach as he attempted to board a flight to Frankfurt. Mr Ayortor, 52, is running in the Edo state House of Assembly election but it is not clear for which party. Mr Ayortor is a qualified pharmacist who studied at the University of Wisconsin in the US. Officers from Nigeria's drug law enforcement agency say they recovered 100 parcels of cocaine from the politician's stomach at Lagos' Murtala Mohammed International Airport. It is understood that Mr Ayortor told officers he needed the money because his last election campaign, in 2007, bankrupted him. He was arrested two weeks ago - police are now at the end of their investigation. They believe Mr Ayortor is part of a wider network and that this was probably not his first attempt to smuggle drugs.



Politicians in Nigeria have to raise large amounts of money at election time – I have heard much of it goes on bribing election officials and paying gangs of young men to intimidate voters, but do not quote me on that. Last month, customs officers at the same airport seized a consignment of military uniforms which they linked to politicians preparing for elections next year. Nigeria is a major transit route for drugs - from South America and Asia - to the US and Europe. More than 300 tonnes of narcotics were seized in the country last year. Drugs law enforcement officers in Lagos have only four police sniffer dogs to monitor the airports, land borders and a massive seaport. They privately complain they need many more sniffer dogs to do their work properly.



Not only have politicians been arrested this week for with handling illicit drugs but now, a Canadian doctor who has treated Tiger Woods and other elite athletes has been charged with supplying illegal drugs. Dr Anthony Galea is accused of giving unlawful drugs, including human growth hormone (HGH), to at least three US professional football players. The Toronto-based physician has denied any wrongdoing. Woods said recently he had been treated by Galea, but categorically denied using performance-enhancing drugs. Dr Galea was charged with unlawful HGH distribution, lying to US officials, conspiracy to defraud, smuggling and interstate commerce with the unapproved drug actovegin. Actovegin, a drug extracted from calf's blood, is illegal in the US and not approved for use in Canada. According to court documents, Dr Galea's clients include at least three current or former National Football League (NFL) players, one of whom allegedly had two HGH kits delivered to his home, while another received actovegin injections. Charges involved only unnamed NFL players, although Dr Galea is also known to have treated other sports figures, including world golf number one Tiger Woods and several prominent baseball players.


It is little comfort to know perhaps, that whilst a Nigerian was caught for a mere 2 kilograms, Lebanese customs officers seized 103 kilograms of cocaine in a record drugs bust at Beirut port, on Monday. Customs officials found the raw cocaine, hidden in the hydraulic machine of a goods lift, in the biggest drugs bust at the Beirut port to date. It is believed the cocaine was smuggled from Colombia through the Belgian port of Antwerp. It was worth around 10 million dollars and once processed and mixed, its street value would have been 30 million dollars. Sniffer dogs had not picked up on the scent because the cocaine was hidden beneath metal and engine oil, but officials noticed something was amiss when the machine went through the scanners. Authorities have since arrested a 79-year-old Lebanese man suspected of involvement in the smuggling.



Seven men have been jailed for twenty-two years for their part in a major drugs and firearms conspiracy spanning the UK, Europe and South America. Liverpool Crown Court heard the gang smuggled the weapons, and cocaine with a street value of £10m, into the UK. Police said the four-year investigation to convict them was complex. The investigation found that the drug dealers were smuggling cocaine, using Eastern European men as drug mules via numerous airports and ports across the UK.

I believe the sentences these criminals were given reflect the very serious nature of these crimes and, quite rightly, these people will now be spending a very long time behind bars. As a result of the policemen’s hard work, a large, sophisticated crime group, spanning the UK and mainland Europe, has been dismantled, preventing untold quantities of drugs and firearms being brought into Lancashire and prevented inevitable harm to local and wider UK communities. Not only does their incarceration provide some respite to the communities affected by their criminality, but it sends a very strong message to other criminal gangs that law enforcement will track them down…Now that is what I call good policing!

(This article was printed in the PM Newspaper on Wed 19th May, 2010. Page 5. Written by Fade Ogunro)

YOUTH & VOTERS

YOUTH & VOTERS

In the UK there are 5 main political parties that aim to be in power and win the elections. Each party must tackle different agendas such as: economy, crime, health and education that affect the entire country. They must demonstrate how they aim to regulate each agenda. The economy is the key issue during any election campaign. Politicians must show how they will stimulate recovery from the longest recession in modern times. The main 3 parties: Conservative, Labour and Liberal Democrats have all put tax, financial regulation and public spending at the top of their agendas. They have clearly stated in their manifestos (which are readily available to the public) their different but transparent approaches to resolve main issues. Based on their manifestos, voters are able to make an informed decision on which party gets their vote.



These manifestos are very user friendly and any literate person would understand the different stand points each political parties take. I commend that they are able to transcend various socio-economic classes and get the mass to cast a vote. It is a fair voting process, absent of corruption and whereby politicians are genuinely forced to listen to listen to the needs of the nation, assess what the main issues are and most importantly set out a detailed guide for a resolution.


The central parts of any election are the politicians and the voters. The latter must be able to identify with the party’s ideologies and ideally the politician should persuade and convince the voter that their approach for resolution is the best. Is it any wonder that in the UK with a population of over 60 million people, over 75% of the nation voted taking into consideration that under 18’s are not allowed to vote. Meanwhile in Nigeria, with a population of over 150 million people about 20% voted in the last general election. I am still skeptical about these figures as they are received from local newspapers in Nigeria. It is not readily accessible public information.




For a country that is rife with corruption and rigging I would be very naive if I did not expect these figures to be exaggerated- there are over 20 political parties in Nigeria which is rather overwhelming. How can one make an informed decision on who to vote for, who has the best policies and track record of fairness? It is an almost impossible task to find the manifestos for each of these political parties. Besides who will read it when majority of the population are illiterate? As a Nigerian citizen I would like to know how each party aims to tackle key issues such as power supply, clean water, education, poverty, healthcare, the list goes on... As a journalist, if I am unable to find out what each party stands for, I am baffled at how over 20 million people were able to make an informed decision and vote. It all seems a bit shady to me! Furthermore, I have heard rumours of results being declared in states where elections were not held. How can an election be said to be fair when all citizens are not given an equal opportunity.



Do not take offence but I am tired of seeing old, weary politicians with frail bodies and archaic mindset ruling Nigeria. Who needs aged but powerful men ruling our nation, after all this has not worked. We need fresh young forward thinkers who can engage with the average Nigerian. We need educated, vibrant, cultured and worldly people to push this country into the 21st century. I am frustrated by leaders who are stuck in the 50’s and very complacent about serious issues in Nigeria like the lack of electricity which is killing our economy; even God said ‘Let there be Light!’ But these stubborn and greedy people we call government just aim to serve their pockets and not the nation or their people. I would love to see a Nigerian man or woman in their later twenties run for presidency. Politicians need to understand that if we the voters cannot relate to them, we will feel no need to vote at all. Ask any youth between the age of 18-25 what their viewpoint is on politics, what policies of PDP they agree with, who is the leader of the National Democratic Party, or simply when they last voted? You will receive confused and blank expressions as if you were asking them to translate hieroglyphics. Politics does not seem to appeal to the youth anymore- that is a major problem. If the children are our future, but they do not participate in shaping the future, are we not missing something? I believe that until every individual believes they can make a difference, that their voice is heard and most importantly that they can make a difference and not overlooked because of their age, and we have fair, corrupt free elections a large amount of the Nigerian population will never vote. What a shame!

(This article was published in PM Newspaper on Wed 14th April 2010. Written by Fade Ogunro)

'Tis the season to look jolly good

The preparation for the festival of Christmas in Nigeria starts much ahead of its time. The locals pack and shop for the return to their villages, whilst many from "overseas" book their plane tickets to Nigeria way ahead of time. Year after year, Lagos metamorphoses into a thriving, wild, carnival city. New clubs are launched, old bars re-open, everywhere is packed with new faces, fresh styles, and it seems everyone has saved their best attires for the Christmas fiesta. Night after night, I hear about a party that must not be missed and, each night, I find myself contending with the nightmarish wardrobe quandary - what to wear.

The pressure seems to increase tenfold during the two-week Christmas holiday period. As if my life depends on it, I try to look my best. Even if I'm just going to get my car tyre changed, I still ponder over my outfit choice. After all, you never know who you might bump into.

I've wasted many fragments of my life throwing wire hangers at my reflection and head-butting my shoe-boxes in sheer despair. I don't know what it is about Christmas parties that turn me and my girlfriends into frantic fashionistas.

I look forward to my friends who are vacationing from abroad to arrive in Lagos, as they always have the latest and most stylish clothes, and my choice of attires expand into a colourful mélange of material. We cannot wear the same outfit twice during the holiday season and if we do, we make sure it's never ever to the same venue. My wardrobe never seems to have enough dresses, shoes or accessories, and swapping clothes with my friends becomes mandatory to my getting ready routine. (However, if you ever ask me or my friends, we will effortlessly deny this practice.)

Earlier this week, I was having a maxi dress versus mini dress battle: do I go for effortlessly chic or drop dead gorgeous? Less than 30 minutes before my friend was due to arrive and I had not even decided what colour of nail polish to wear because any sane girl knows the importance of matching outfit, shoes and nail varnish! As the trauma unfolded, my best friend called to ask if I remembered what shoes she wore last week and to moan that she had nothing to wear, so she was coming to rummage through my closet.

As I hung up, the phone rang again. This time I heard a thick New York accent. It was my cousin reminding me to return her bangles and sequin top I borrowed, but she also needed my ankle boots and cherry-coloured lip gloss.

When I travel abroad, I always set aside a shopping budget to visit my favourite clothing stores. At the end of summer, I return to Lagos with a new wardrobe and a smile of satisfaction. That is, until Christmas arrives. My "new" clothes quickly become last season's collection and all my friends who live abroad know it. And to make matters worse, I find myself pacing my bedroom and pulling my hair out; in fact, having a mini-panic attack at the sheer thought of someone else wearing the same outfit as I am! Who knew that a mundane task such as getting dressed could be so stressful?

We pressure ourselves unnecessarily to look stunning over the Christmas season. Most of us probably do this because of the competition. Owing to the high influx of "Janded" babes and "Yankee" guys, Lagos becomes a geopolitical compression of accents, and there are more beautiful ladies and more handsome guys around. Some of us are probably also trying to catch the attention of a potential partner, thus making us think, act and dress erratically. I have seen hem lines of skirts rise and rise to the point where a girl cannot sit down comfortably without constantly having to tug at her excuse for a skirt, as if pulling it down by one centimetre will make any visible difference. I have come across ladies wearing fabulous stilettos but by the end of the night their catwalk struts are reduced to Quasimodo-style limps.

This Christmas, I have decided to focus on comfort. I want to have as much fun as possible, yes, but I don't want the worry of aching feet or clingy dresses that ride up my thighs.

Jesus-Man

End (I)

I could see the clouds huddling together as if they were depressed. Their soft cheeks swelled, huffed then darkened. They must have heard some bad news.



‘Bye I’ve got to go’. I ran for some shelter as the clouds began to wail. I arrived (late) to work; my manager was keen to remind me of my tardiness. He looked up from behind the till and tapped his wrist-free watch. ‘What’s new?’ I replied flashing him a cheeky grin. His forehead crinkled together, but he never looked disappointed. It looked to me as if he were squinting rather than scolding.

Middle

As I was heading into work I lowered my Prada umbrella, the sky was brightening again. I suddenly felt awkwardly overshadowed. Looking down at me was this dusty black man, who was wearing a cardboard placard stating: I AM THE ONLY WAY TO HEAVEN! I laughed, after all Jesus is the only true way to heaven; my Christian upbringing came into defense.
‘What makes you think you are Jesus?’ I asked.

He responded: ‘I knew you would talk to me, why do you think you spoke to me today? After all you see me all the time.’

‘I don’t think so.’ I told him, shaking my head in disagreement. I’ve heard about you but this is the first time I’ve seen you. Anyway answer my question.’

‘I don’t say I’m Jesus, my name is-’

‘So if you are not Jesus’, I interjected, ‘how can you be the only way to
Heaven. Have you even read the Bible?’

‘I know the Bible better than you little girl…

YOU WILL ALL GO TO HELL! I am trying to save you! Heaven awaits those who give themselves to me!’ He flailed his arms, looking ridiculous, almost possessed. A few people stepped back from him, mothers steered their pushchairs away. On-lookers: adults, children, staff and customers were startled, puzzled and frightened, simultaneously.




It was during his speech, I carefully examined him. I noticed the flickered burn holes which oddly added character to his brown, long-sleeved cotton shirt. The only thing holy about this man is his shirt. I thought. My attention was districted by his feet. He was not wearing any shoes! His toenails were as thick as slices of rye bread and, they were ridged and cracked like McCoys crisps. His heels would benefit from a thick coat of poly-filler. I couldn’t believe that he was shoeless. Eww he’s standing in spit. His feet were tired-looking, crispy and malnourished.
‘I recognize that uniform!’ he said, turning back to my direction. My eyes darted from his feet to his face. His teeth were terribly straight and he had obviously shaved within the last seven days.
My uniform is black and white stripped like a referee’s at a boxing match. He pointed directly at my shop which reminded me…

‘Shit I’m late.’ I muttered under my breath. I attempted to walk away but he kept talking and following me.
‘It was meant to be, I was meant to save you, otherwise, you would not have spoken to me today.’ He said, determined he was right.

As if on cue,


lightening struck.



Beginning

There was a guy I met once. I never knew his real name but I liked to refer to him as Jesus-Man. After all whenever he came up in conversation, everyone knew who I meant.
It was a regular autumn’s day. The weather was frustrating; I could never decide what to wear on days such as this. It sprinkles lightly enough to be irritating, yet it was hot enough to create a layer of moistening on the skin. The heat under my armpits rose, I should not have worn this coat, I thought. Besides, it still needs to be dry cleaned…
Where was I?
It was a regular autumn’s day. Voila!
A rainbow appears.



Maybe things could be different today.
I had often heard rumours of Jesus-Man, he chased after girls and told them they were going to hell. ‘I am the only way to heaven.’ He proclaimed. Mad Black Man, I thought- disappointed at my own.
Mad, Black, Jesus-Man.

End (II)

Arriving from my lunch, I was interrupted by my fellow monochrome colleague. ‘Did you see what just happened?’
‘No.’ I was irritated, he was someone I preferred not to make idle conversation with.

‘Jesus-Man got arrested. But he kept saying, “My work is not done, there’s still one more girl I have to save.”

That’s strange, I thought. I wonder if I was meant to meet Jesus today.


NOW RE-READ IN ORDER: (Beginning-Middle-EndI-EndII)
Makes sense...thought so!
x

Mark Rothko

Mark Rothko

Dear Diary,
The room is much darker than any exhibition I’m accustomed to. I feel the intimacy, the spirit of the dark boudoir-like colours: the tranquil. Some on-lookers do as I; sit on the benches. They seem to be gathering their thoughts, admiring the paintings, some simply to rest, or to tie-up shoelaces. The lines are systematic calculated but without restriction and explanations (literally). They are huge Muriels of window-like outlines constructed with steady, basic strokes. Black squares on a deep wine background. The lighting, atmosphere and mood seem to have changed in comparison to the outside world. Perhaps, this is the meaning- to physically draw you in. I believe it is more than the art which attracts and sustains my glare. A sense of relaxation overwhelms me. Subsequently, my butt remains on the bench, the most comfortable marble bench. The room contains art, but is in itself art. Why do I feel like it’s quite a sexy atmosphere? I could bring a date here. These paintings can de translated and transported into any surrounding. ‘That looks like the twilight zone’ I hear a young student say. So the feeling is not mutual then, I thought. They dismiss the room, after a few glances and proclaim, BORING, Let’s go. Do not admire just the art, I mean the whole room has its own ambience. The archway which is the main source of light- The room has no door, but still manages to feel completely separate to the rest of the gallery. If this is the mood Mark Rothko aspired to achieve, then I would love to visit his house, his room, his world. Don’t know if I am doing this stream of consciousness exercise right but here is my attempt anyway P.s I need to find if this Mark guy is single.

SATISFYING SHONITA


Shonita staggered into the alley way, her breath stank of hard liquor. She had stolen one of Miss Diamond’s dresses to try to receive more attention from customers. Damn! I look better than that two dollar hoe, Miss D. I just hope she don’t catch me wearing it, Shonita thought anxiously. She draped her fake-fur coat around her to keep warm, yet still managed to reveal her smooth, cappuccino coloured legs, enough to entice a few customers.

Shonita knew from the flickering of the car’s headlights that this driver was bound to stop. Her heart beat fast; she took a quick swig from the Hennessey bottle before biting what was left of her right index nail. She allowed the coat to slide off her shoulders revealing the black ensemble she had been eyeing for weeks. It’s time to work it, Shonita told herself, trying to shrug off all signs of nervousness.

‘Hey honey, want some good loving?’ she asked leaning into the red Toyota’s rolled down window.

‘What can I get for $10?’ The young man stuttered. His eyes darted from side to side, constantly glancing in the rear view mirror.

‘Ten dollars! Nigger you lost your mind? You better go ask your mama for some ten dollar loving!’ She shouted as the car screeched down the street.

Voices came from around the corner, ‘Shonita, do you have to scare off all our customers? You know Mr Silk ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout that,’ Starlight asked shivering.
‘It ain’t my fault niggers be broke, Starlight. Tryin’a disrespect me, asking for $10 loving. I just told him where he could get it, cause it ain’t here!’ Shonita replied laughing. She eyed her colleague’s new open toe, glass heeled sandal, which would definitely look better on her feet.

‘Where’s Miss Diamond tonight?’ Shonita asked.

‘Haven’t you heard? She’s disappeared. Mr Silk is pissed off cause he’s losing out on money, and everyone hopes she’s dead cause if he finds her, he’s gonna kill her!’ Shonita glared back at her out of shock and confusion, almost forgetting to blink. She began to uncontrollably gnaw at her fingertips like she always does when she gets agitated. Why did I have to wear Diamond’s dress tonight? Her stomach churned, and she suddenly felt guilty for taking it.

‘Girl I’ve gotta get back to work,’ she told Starlight backing away.

Moments later, a blacked out Rolls Royce with shiny alloys pulled up. This customer would definitely pay her well. She began her seductive routine; slipping her coat off her shoulders, showing off her lengthy legs and sticking out her apple bottom just that bit more. The tinted window rolled down to reveal Mr. Silk’s scrutinizing face. Except for her father, Mr. Silk was the only man who terrified her.

‘Bitch, get in the damn car!’ he commanded. Shonita gasped. She obeyed, trembling. Wrapping her coat around her in a useless attempt to conceal Diamond’s dress, she knew she was in serious trouble.

‘I can explain,’ Shonita stuttered, ‘I asked Diamond for the-’

He slapped her hard across the face with the back of his hand. Her nose started to bleed.
‘Did I ask you to speak?’ He asked with a calm Texan drawl. ‘When I gave Diamond that dress, I told her not to let any other bitch look at it, let alone wear it. The fact that you are wearing Diamond’s dress two days after she goes missing raises a lot of questions. Wouldn’t you agree?’

Shonita nodded, unsure whether to speak or not. Her whole face throbbed from the pain of his hefty diamond rings which covered his right hand. She could still feel the imprint on her cheek.
‘When I ask you a question, you answer,’ raising his voice, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

‘I asked Diamond if I could borrow the dress and she said yes,’ she stammered. ‘When I got to her apartment, the door was wide open. I just went in, took the dress and left. I haven’t seen or heard from her since.’ Shonita said with teary eyes.

‘So you stole her dress and helped yourself to her shoes and jewelry.’ Mr. Silk shouted as he grabbed her by the throat. ‘I know how you trifling females think,’ his voice lowered as his grip tightened. He moved his face so close, she could feel the heat from his breath against her ear.
‘You must think I’m an idiot. I don’t believe you. You’re a conniving little bitch and if I find out you had anything to do with Diamond’s disappearance, I shall kill you myself. Don’t forget you’re my bitch. BITCH!’

Shonita was frantic. Tears were flowing down her face and her whole head was throbbing. Why does he think I would want to hurt Diamond? What would I gain? She thought, bewildered. He isn’t joking, he will kill me. What the hell am I meant to do?

‘Don’t think I ain’t watching every move you make, everybody you speak to. In fact I will know when you wake up, even when you shit.’ He then let go of her throat. ‘I don’t want you on the block until Diamond turns up.’

‘No, please Mr. Silk,’ she begged gasping for air. Her face tingled as the blood and oxygen began to circulate properly. Although he had just almost killed her, she knew without a job, she could not survive and if she tried to work for someone else, Mr. Silk would definitely kill her. ‘I’ll do anything, you have to believe me. I don’t know where Miss Diamond is or what happened to her. I know I took from her but I didn’t know she was missing. I swear to you. Please don’t fire me. I need this job more than anything.’ Mr. Silk seemed uninterested, looking out of the window.

‘Alright,’ he replied. ‘It doesn’t make any sense for me to lose two employees in the same week. You can keep your job on one condition. Miss Diamond brings in three grand a week and you bring around seven hundred every weekend. Because I’m so generous, I’ll round it off to three and a half grand. That’s the minimum you gotta make me every week… until I know what really happened to Diamond.’

‘Three and a half what,’ she exclaimed. She lowered her voice because from the look on his face, her nose would not be only thing to bleed. ‘Thanks Mr. Silk I appreciate that you’re kind enough to let me keep on working, but is it fair that I have to work Diamond’s shift as well? I mean, she is much more experienced than I am and she has more contacts. I don’t think I am capable of earning that much money.’

‘I don’t care how you get my money, if you want to live, you’ll find a way to make it. If Diamond can do it, so can you. You’re all the same anyway,’ he replied.

‘One more thing. Strip.’

Although she was used to taking off her clothes, she quivered as she reluctantly followed his orders. Mr. Silk was a ruthless man. There were rumors that about a year ago, a worker did not pay him on time and the following week, he had her ‘cleaned up’ as he would say. When Shonita was down to her underwear, he snatched Diamond’s dress and shoes from her.
‘I’ll charge you the cleaning bill, as you’ve ruined it with your damn blood. You’re lucky I ain’t making you scrub the rest off my seats. Now get!’ With one swift movement of his hand, Shonita knew the conversation was over.

She broke into tears as she started walking back to her apartment barefoot, in her underwear, with only her coat to shield her from the wind. She was too embarrassed to hail a cab and besides the fresh air might help clear her head. She had been oblivious to Miss Diamond’s disappearance and now, because she’d stolen that damn dress, she could end up being the prime suspect.

The journey home took only 20 minutes but in her fragile state, it seemed like an eternity. Cotton her cat was sat by the entrance, like an anxious mother, waiting for her arrival. She bandaged her nose and jumped into the shower. Why me? She thought, washing her hair. If Diamond doesn’t show, then it’s only a matter a time before he kills me; the plaster across her nose was enough of a reminder for her. First thing tomorrow I’ll go back to Miss D’s apartment. I have to know who her regular customers are. And who knows, they might be able to help me find out what happened to her. I know she hasn’t got any family, none of us workers do so that rules them out. In the meantime I’m going to have to work my ass off, to stay alive. She decided she would work all night and day, to make Mr. Silk’s money. After feeding her cat, and massaging her sore feet, she turned off her bedroom light. Getting into bed, she dreaded waking the next day.


Diamond was always so predictable, Shonita thought. Her keys were always placed under the right flower vase which had a dozen red roses, and the left vase, a dozen white. That’s strange but romantic, Shonita thought smiling. She glanced over both shoulders to make sure no-one was around, and then let herself into Diamond’s apartment. The room looks much different during the day, Shonita thought, scanning around. There was more than enough space for all of Diamond’s shoes, bags, belts, rings, thongs and whips. Shonita examined various objects puzzled as to what they were let alone how they were meant to work. Miss Diamond liked to call herself a ‘tri-sexual.’ That is, she would try anything, literally. This stuff must actually work, Shonita thought, she is the highest paid worker after all. Opening the wardrobe she gasped at the amount of shoes there were, she picked up several pairs, and noticed that they were all of a minimum of 5 inch heels. Every couture label was stocked in this wardrobe; however it was evident that Fendi was Diamond’s favourite label.

Shonita was looking for the ‘little black book.’ The unspoken rule that every worker knew, was to keep the book hidden, never let it leave your house and most importantly never show it to anyone else. The diary contained the contact number of every client a worker has encountered. If Shonita finds it then she would know which clients they both use, how much they pay, and most importantly, when and with whom Diamond was last with

‘Wow!’ Shonita shouted, reaching for the deep purple, velvet jewelry box. No wonder she’s called Diamond. At least her valuables are not missing which means nobody has broken into the apartment. The box was as big as a refrigerator with different shelves and compartments. The must be worth a fortune, Shonita thought, trying to stop herself from taking anything. She was amazed by the size of the apartment, the bathtub, the bed, the kitchen; everything seemed huge she even had an oak antique grandfather clock, which Shonita had only seen in films. It all looked fresh and crisp. I wish I was Diamond, she thought.

Whilst searching for the diary, her thoughts began to stray and she was thinking of home. She wondered if she made the wrong decision to flee. Perhaps her life would have been easier back in Jamaica where she would not have to go through this stress; except, in place of Mr. Silk controlling her life, it would be her father. She hardly thought of him. She loathed him. Because of him, she learnt at a young age how to shut out pain, after years of physical and sexual abuse. She remembered the evening she arrived home after her first day of secondary school. She was so excited to tell someone that she had actually made friends. Other kids were greeted with a smile and asked how their day went. She found her father, in his favourite chair in the living room, surrounded by eight cans of beer, a few bottles of red wine and he was staring at a blank television with a half empty bottle of rum in his hand.

‘Daddy,’ she said reaching for his hand, ‘my teacher is called-’ The pain of his fist smacking her across the jaw was the last thing she remembered. Her small body flew a few feet across the room and she hit her head on the corner of the glass coffee table, which branded the scalp behind her left ear. Shonita learnt that sex was not an act of pleasure. She did not trust any man, and that is why she finds it easy to lay with different men each night.

Only the men are ever satisfied. Satisfaction, she thought. That’s a feeling I have never experienced and I doubt I ever will.

‘Bingo!’ she shouted, immediately snapping back to reality. She found the black suede diary with Diamond’s birth name imprinted in bold gold. She smashed the lock with the heel of a Gina sandal. Flicking through its pages, she realized it was a new diary, with only a few contacts scribbled in the first three pages. Of all the names in the book, Mr. Silk and the letter “A,” appeared most frequent. She had never heard of this person, but she was had a feeling Mr. Silk knew who they were. The problem was she could never ask him and there was no contact number or address for this person, only the date of which they last met, which was a week before Diamond disappeared . She wiped down all the surfaces to remove all traces of her prints, she gathered up her belongings and quietly left the apartment.

After weeks of constantly working day and night, Shonita felt sore everywhere. Her left eyelid would not stop twitching from lack of sleep. And on top of all that, the men seemed to get worse as each night passed, either their breath smelt of sewage, they were constantly sweaty or just plain weird. Under normal circumstances she would have told the cheap skates where to go but now she had to take all she was offered. At the end of each week, on Sunday she met Mr. Silk. He always came to her; no matter where she was, he found her.
She could always hear the sexy growl of the car’s engine, getting louder as it approached. The matt black Rolls Royce pulled up next to Shonita at 8.30pm like clockwork.

‘Get in’ Mr. Silk said, with the same relaxed but rough tone. ‘You’ve got my money.’ It was not a question but a statement. Shonita nodded her head and began to open her purse. Without hesitation he dipped his hand in, took out the bundle and put it in his pocket, not even bothering to count. She wouldn’t dare short change him.

‘Mr. Silk, I can’t go on doing this anymore.’ Shonita told him desperately. ‘My body hurts, no-one has heard from Miss D. I ain’t slept or eaten well for the past three weeks.’

‘Why are you telling me?’ he asked coldly.

‘I was wondering if we could come up with another plan otherwise I’m going to pass out.’

‘If you do more than just lie on your back all night, maybe you’ll get more money. Try something new, bondage, candle wax all that kinky stuff. It will get you more money for less of your time.’ He replied, rolling his eyes.
Without thinking, she replied, ‘I’ll do anything,’

It was weird to see Mr. Silk smile, Shonita thought. He handed over to her a piece of paper with a name, phone number and address.

‘He’s a special client and only deals with the best of my girls. You have to look really sexy when you meet him because he’s really fussy and make sure you buy a new outfit, he likes black dresses.’ He said serenely. Again he motioned with his hand, that the conversation was over and she was to leave the car.

This was the first time Shonita met the man to whom Mr. Silk had referred her. Sitting on the bed she noticed he was a smooth talking, tall black Jamaica man. His name was Dameon. She felt comfortable in his bedroom which was painted a deep red, the carpet was thick black and velvet, the vases were elegantly decorated with red and white roses and the four poster bed was draped in silk. In fact the whole room was filled the most incredible sensual aura, including the lights which were dimmed. And he actually spoke to her for longer than five minutes.

‘I like your black dress, it really shows off your figure,’ he said, passing her some rosé champagne and fruit.

‘Thanks’ she replied, avoiding eye contact. She was suspicious of every one Mr. Silk introduced her to, but after talking to him for a few hours, she encouraged herself to believe he was different.
He seemed genuinely interested in her life; her hobbies, her talents, her background and especially her family or lack of.
They talked about everything, especially sex.

‘What’s your favourite position?’ he asked.

‘I don’t have one, sex ain’t a game to me. It’s my job’ she replied blandly.

‘Don’t sound so bitter, I bet I can change your mind about that. If you really want mind blowing, totally consuming sex, you know I can give it to you.’ He leant forward and began kissing her neck. He was gentle, caring and trusting, humble even.

‘If you don’t enjoy sex does that mean you’ve never had an orgasm?’ he asked.

‘No, never,’ she replied.

‘If you can trust me, I know ways to make you climax, beyond your wildest dreams. Not only will you climax physically but mentally you will experience a moment of clarity. Your mind will feel sharper, and your body will feel really light for a few seconds.’

‘What makes you so confident, you can accomplish all this?’ she asked, pouring herself another full glass.

‘That’s why you have to trust me. I only do this to special people and you have to believe, I’ve never had any complaints. All I do place my hand around your neck during sex, and as I apply pressure, I will restrict the blood flow to your head. It will make you light-headed. But at the end you will fill sexually fulfilled,’ he explained.
He was different from any other clients she had ever with. He could never hurt me, Shonita thought.
It was Thursday evening and so far Shonita had been to his house everyday that week. She told him more during the few times they met than she had told anyone in the past four years, and they had not even had sex. His dreadlocks reminded her of her father but the two men’s characters were nothing alike. She felt at ease with him, the only thing that bugged her was her black cowl neck dress which kept riding too far up her thighs.

‘Does that feel good? Are you comfortable?’ or ‘Do you enjoy that?’ were simple questions that no man had ever asked Shonita. She was beginning to appreciate the pleasure of a man’s touch. For the first time in her life she felt that he was more interested in pleasing her than himself. She noticed the softness of his kiss and the attentiveness of his hands. Her thoughts were interrupted by his deep voice.

‘So my dear, have you thought about what I said?’ he asked.
Unsure of what to say, she resumed kissing him. He gently pushed her away.

‘You know what I’m on about…you can do it back to me. I’ll teach you how and I promise you, that you have never experienced a sensation like this in your life,’ he said.
She was bewildered and curious about this new approach to sex, all she expected was to be whipped and tied up.

‘I did not imagine I would be strangled, it seems like risky game to play, and I’m not sure if I’m…’ he placed his palm over her mouth to stop her from speaking, and whispered in her ear.

‘You know I’ll never hurt you and just to show you how serious I will triple your pay. I am doing it for your benefit, because I care so much for you. I think you’re really special.’
When he told her how much he would pay, greed finalized her decision.
‘Fine,’ she replied. The only thing she was worried abut was the blacking out stage. What if I don’t wake up, she thought.

‘I promise you, I’ve done this many times and nothing has ever happened. Believe me Shonita, let me make you happy, you have to trust me with your life.’ He told her, as if reading her thoughts. She nodded back at him in agreement. She loved the reassurance he constantly provided her.

Their clothes fell to the floor, sweaty hands running through each others’ hair and every section of bare skin was caressed. She noticed the tattoo on his back by his left shoulder; it was of a black ace playing card.
She screamed with true delight for the first time during sex.
‘Yes! Don’t stop!’ she shouted with joy. He moaned in response as each thrust felt even deeper and more pleasurable. Her abdomen tingled, it was an unusual sensation. It excited her. She took his hands in hers and wrapped them around her neck as he had described earlier. She indicated for the strangling to begin, he was now in complete control.

His moaning and grunting grew louder and louder, then he exclaimed, ‘Yes Danielle!’ Shonita was confused. Less oxygen was entering her brain and she was unsure if she had heard correctly. Danielle she thought, who the hell is that? She tried to take her mind off his name calling, by holding her breath for as long as she could; it was to intensify the experience she was told. Her head began to feel light and everything from her neck up tingled as if she had pins and needles. Simultaneously the welling sensation in her stomach increased, her toes curled and buttocks clenched together, her back jolted forward and she felt a trickle of warmth spread through her body starting from her abdomen.
Trying to control herself, she moved her head from side to side, she could only scream with delight although she was frightened of this new light-headed sensation. Looking towards the door, she noticed the two vases, the one on the right with a dozen red roses and the left was filled with a dozen white. How romantic, she thought. Suddenly she remembered where she recognized the name, Danielle. It was Miss Diamond’s birth name. ‘Danielle Thompson,’ was imprinted in gold, in the diary she found in her apartment. She must have trusted him like I do, to reveal her real name. Shonita thought. Finding it harder to breathe, she tried to struggle, but even opening her eyes seemed impossible. He was on top of her and his body weight pinned her to the bed. She was helpless. Just like he described, her mind felt sharper, she realized that the arrangement of the roses, they were the same as those outside Diamond’s apartment. She thought that when you die your life flashes before your eyes- she had thoughts of the diary that said Diamond last met a man named “A.” This must be him, the tattoo of a black Ace. Of course it’s him, she thought. She had never experienced such an awesome sensation, and he was now to ensure that she never will.

It was too late and her thoughts were fading fast, her body was overwhelmed with adrenaline caused by the orgasm. He must have killed Diamond, she thought, now he’s going to kill me too, she thought calmly. She was too weak to struggle, but her mind did feel sharper; Mr. Silk must have known this would happen because he must have given Diamond Ace’s number. He had even known what type of dresses he liked and they knew both the girls had no family. Nobody would miss us, she realized. She knew her pulse was weakening beneath his hands, and there was nothing she could about it. Shonita’s body was still tingling, her toes were still twitching with life, and she smiled.

Her final thoughts were, that’s the greatest sex I’ve ever had.
Her body became limp.