Ola Awonubi's Blog, page 4
December 13, 2014
ROMANTIC FUN ON TWITTER- 15/12/14
Originally posted on Pearls & Oysters:
To celebrate the launch of�� the books and to create a buzz, Ankara Press is planning a hashtag event/discussion on Monday 15th December 2014, from 11.00 ��� 13.00 Nigerian time (GMT+1). It���s a Twitter event and it promises to be great fun. We would be very grateful if you could participate and celebrate the launch with us. The Ankara website itself will go live at 10am (Nigerian time) on Monday 15th November. Please join us���
December 7, 2014
COVER REVEAL FOR LOVE’S PERSUASION BY OLA AWONUBI – COMING ON DECEMBER 15TH !
The wait is over! This is my cover reveal for my book Love’s Persuasion out on December 15th.
My book Loves Persuasion is set in cosmopolitan Lagos.
Ada Okafor is an ambitious young secretary who works for a Financial House in Lagos by day and studies for a degree in Business Administration in the evenings. One Christmas her whole life changes when she bumps into the new Assistant Director ��� Tony Okoli ��� the son of the Managing Director who has come to assist his ailing father with turning round the fortunes of the company ��� Citi Finance ��� a once thriving business house.
Ada and Tony begin a tentative friendship when he gives her a ride home and discover a mutual love of literature and a mutual attraction which both try hard to fight. Ada because she doesn���t want to be seen as a gold digger and Tony because he is already engaged to child hood sweet heart and family friend Gloria Onwuka and he has plans for his life that do not really have anything to do with what his family wants for him.
He is trying to make sense of his own life. She is trying to make a life for herself.
Neither of them have got a clue about what destiny has in store���.
To get your copy for the introductory price of N500 on the launch date you can sign up on the website for more information.
COVER REVEAL FOR LOVES PERSUASION BY OLA AWONUBI – COMING ON DECEMBER 15TH !
The wait is over! This is my cover reveal for my book Loves Persuasion out on December 15th.
My book Loves Persuasion is set in cosmopolitan Lagos.
Ada Okafor is an ambitious young secretary who works for a Financial House in Lagos by day and studies for a degree in Business Administration in the evenings. One Christmas her whole life changes when she bumps into the new Assistant Director ��� T…ony Okoli ��� the son of the Managing Director who has come to assist his ailing father with turning round the fortunes of the company ��� Citi Finance ��� a once thriving business house.
Ada and Tony begin a tentative friendship when he gives her a ride home and discover a mutual love of literature and a mutual attraction which both try hard to fight. Ada because she doesn���t want to be seen as a gold digger and Tony because he is already engaged to child hood sweet heart and family friend Gloria Onwuka and he has plans for his life that do not really have anything to do with what his family wants for him.
He is trying to make sense of his own life. She is trying to make a life for herself.
Neither of them have got a clue about what destiny has in store���.
To get your copy for the introductory price of N500 on the launch date you can sign up on the website for more information.
November 23, 2014
ANKARA PRESS – New digital Publishing imprint coming out with new releases Dec 15
Ankara Press – coming soon. Six authors. Six stories. Six romances.
Are Nigerian men romantic? Subscribe to the website by clicking the link below to keep updated as the series launches on Dec 15th – to find out.
Look out for my digital novel – Loves Persuasion – one of the six due out.
Tony Okoli is the kind of guy you wont forget in a hurry. Ada Okafor however is trying to persuade herself that life has moved on since they parted……
Update on Ankara pre-launch at the Lagos Book and Art Fair last Saturday.
People have asked where they will be able to buy the Ankara e-books. The answer is that we will be selling directly from www.ankarapress.com as soon as the site is launched, on December 15th. The ebooks will be available on all formats, including Kindle, but the only place that people will be able to buy them from at launch is www.ankarapress.com. So please spread the word and invite your friends to register their email details on the website now and we’ll mail them with details of the launch special offer price when the site goes live.
November 15, 2014
October 17, 2014
Africa Writers Event 8th November, London.
“Dedicated to showcasing the best of established and emerging talented African writers in the UK”
Accomplish Press in conjunction with Femy and Remy Ltd and Nigerian Writers, presents an evening of reading, conversation and inspiration with the best of new generation African Writers. The event will be a mixture of literature, poetry and spoken word performances, as well as a panel to discuss issues relevant to writers in the UK.
See link below to get tickets and more details
http://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/african-literary-evening-tickets-12822098241
October 3, 2014
Coming Home
The road to home seemed longer, the red sand and mud heavy on her feet and the sun pierced her skin as she walked.
She tried to keep to the shade of the trees as she made her way up the hill, being careful not to scruff her shoes against the stones and the pebbles. The houses were simple, most made from mud with corrugated iron sheets. Yet every time she came there were changes – a son or daughter that had done well in the city would come home and build a house – a duplex two storey building and it would stand out amongst the other decaying houses like a new wife in the Eze’s compound.
One day she and her brother would build a nice house with a proper toilet and bathroom for their father.
She sighed. She was the Ada – the first and only daughter and her husband would be expected to play a big part in renovating her father’s estate but something in her rejected the idea of any man spending money on her family – it would be like them paying for her as if she was some kind of object. It was her culture and it was expected but she knew of many women who stayed in marriages because of the bride price and the other gifts that their husband’s family had paid during the marriage ceremonies.
She thought of her father. A man his age should not be squatting over that monstrosity called a pit latrine. It was not sanitary and it was an absolute eyesore. It was the one thing she hated about visiting home.
Now Ndeh was a small village with a primary school and Secondary school children had to catch a bus to the next bigger village – to go to school. It had a church for weddings and funerals and a small community hall to host the events around those weddings and funerals.
Her mother had told her that a hundred years ago before the white man had come and turned everything upside down that it used to be busy market town. She spoke of how her mother; the grandmother she never knew had a stall there where she sold vegetables – bright green okra and bitter leaf spinach, bananas and oranges, plantain and yams.
Her grandmother said that Ndeh was so big that its population could not consist of just living people and was firmly convinced that departed souls from other hamlets and towns came to do business in Nde on market days.
The family home was at a intersection between the school and the church and she remembered growing up and how it used to irritate her that the proximity of her home to the church meant that she could not avoid attending morning and evening services, like her other classmates.
She turned the corner into the street and saw the familiar faces smiling at her.
It was one of her father’s neighbours sitting on a little stool, head bent forward as she tackled the washing.
“Welcome my daughter. Ote kwana. Long time no see. How is Lagos?”
“Good evening Nne.”
“Kedu. How are you? “
“Odinma. I am fine. Nne.”
She walked into her house, opened the door and was hit by the weight of heat. Little beads of water ran down the walls of the front room and the mildew forming dark spots on the carpet. She felt the clothes sticking to her skin, and her mouth just wanted water, despite the rickety ceiling fan whirling above her head.
The door opened and her father walked in slowly. He was much thinner, his hair totally white but his eyes lit up when they saw her.
“Welcome. Adanna you have arrived.”
“You look so much like your mother nowadays you know.” He sighed as he lowered himself into a chair.
Ada went into the kitchen and observed the blackened walls. There was a pot of freshly cooked stew on the kerosene stove. Her aunt must have been here recently. She helped Papa with the cooking.
“Papa can I get you some water?”
“Don’t worry. Just sort yourself out. There is a fresh soup that your big mother prepared. You can make some garri and eat.”
She walked back into the sitting room.
“How is Lagos? How is work? How has life been treating you lately?”
She talked about work, her eyes wandering over the broken worn chairs and the threadbare carpet. When she was a little girl, the carpet had been bright royal blue with brown flowers to match the chocolate brown sofa. Now the sofa looked more black than brown and carpet had had turned to a neat coffee shade. The corner held a cabinet with some forlorn pieces of her mother’s plate set and family pictures.
“Papa …I have some news …….”
Her father leant forward and clasped his hands.
August 10, 2014
Blue Sky Thinking
I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of the word Nigeria. It was my tormentor, my nemesis and my destiny. Even the word was heavy so heavy that you had to split it into 4 to say it properly – Ni – ger – ri- yah
Destiny was another big word. Ever since Father told me that Des-ti- ny was waiting for me in Nigeria and one day we would all go back the thought lingered in my head like an unwelcome guest but in the eternal optimism of youth I convinced myself that that day would never actually come.
Images of deep dark jungles infested with tigers and lions had embedded themselves into my imagination due to watching Tarzan and Daktari on a regular practice. It told me all I knew about Africa – the place was chaotic; full of bumbling Africans who communicated in grunts and shrugs, fought against each and seemed incapable of any original thought or action unless Tarzan guided them, helped them or saved them from their predicament with his superior problem solving capabilities.
My father walked in and saw me crying. He smiled and came over to rest a hand on my shoulder as mother flung up her hands and said something in their language.
“Don’t worry Lola…..I can understand it’s all strange to you now but you will love it when you get there. Fresh food, lovely weather. He closed his eyes, “A place where people respect their elders and you are part of a family not just some body that fell out of the sky.”
I swallowed and blinked. “I don’t want to go.”
“Nonsense – you have been here for too long. I’ve always told you that this isn’t your country.”
Amanda’s eyes met mine and I bit back my reply.
I lived with the Alison’s – Amanda and Keith and their two kids – Peter and Kate and a big lazy dog called Mutley. Home was a three bed roomed semi in Portsmouth because my parents were studying and working down in London.
Growing up I never questioned why the woman who came to pick me up at school was white and the folk with the heavy voices who came down from London to see me every fortnight were Black. I just accepted it like the sky being blue or like the fact that no matter how far you walked the moon in the sky never seemed to get any nearer…
A kid at school asked me how I came to have a white mum. I told her I had two mums.
“How’s that then?” she asked blue eyes swamping her whole face.
Cause that’s just how it is. I shrugged. Just like the blue sky and the moon.
June 19, 2014
The Homecoming – excerpt of novel in progress
He didn’t want people to think he was anything like his father.
He sighed again. The sound swallowed up by his inner emptiness.
He must be getting introspective in his old age. Thinking about Tanisha and what an idiot he had been. Thinking about his relationship with the old man.
He thought of Tanisha again. He kept seeing her face and her tears the last time he had been with her.
He had gone to see her and was hoping her parents would be in. That way he could keep to his earlier script i.e. – a nice clean parting. No tears. No recrimations and the temptation being kept to a bare minimum but nothing in life is ever that easy.
It was a hot day and she was wearing shorts and a strappy top and he felt his good intentions melting away faster than the fizzy pop she had offered him at his arrival.
“You still going then?” It was a statement.
He nodded and saw her eyes fill up with unshed tears.
“I don’t want you to go.”
He kept silent and tried to keep his eyes on her face and not anywhere under her neck. The top she was wearing wasn’t particularly helping him, urging his imagination into forbidden places.
“When are you coming back?”
He shrugged. “I can’t say. Maybe Christmas. Depends what happens at college.”
“You’re going to go away to college and meet other girls and forget all about me.”
He smiled. “I couldn’t forget about you. I care about you.”
She put out a hand and touched his face. “I care about you. I just want to be with you. “Her big eyes promised the world as she let her body rest against his.” They are out for a few hours.”
Heat flowed through him and despite his good intentions he drew her into his arms. She shook her head and took him by the hand and without saying a word, they went upstairs.
He had never been in her room. There was pink and white everywhere. Flowers as well. He felt out of place amongst the checked gingham curtains and flowery wallpaper. A picture of Tanisha aged about 8 stared up at him from the photograph. Sweetness. Beauty. Innocence- and he felt out of place.
His body urged him on but his head and his heart were rebelling. It was a battle, one that he was losing by the second the more she kept looking at him with her big eyes.
He muttered under his breath and they collapsed on the bed, kissing as if it was their last few minutes on earth. He held her in his arms and his heart raced. This was it, the moment he had been anticipating all summer.
Then she said it and his heart was turned to stone.
“I love you Kevin.”
“You what?”
June 15, 2014
How to get a life
Annabel had gone to the States and come back with this book called “Get out there and get yourself a life.” She had insisted she read it. Despite her hatred of self-help books and their self righteous advice that only seemed to work for the writers she had gone through it and decided it needed another title- “Get out there and get yourself a man.”
The writer Kim Bradley thingy … something double barrelled who had been a high flyer in the stock exchange had met Mr Right – a brilliant neurosurgeon; decided that the cut throat world of the New York Stock Exchange had lost its attraction, got married and lived in some gigantic house somewhere in Boston. Sounded like one of those irritating afternoon TV films made in the eighties.
Anyway when Kim had turned 36 her mother had been diagnosed with something serious and had said don’t let me die without seeing you happily married. This had been enough to stop Kim from sitting down and waiting for Mr Right to come to her. She decided to get off her derriere and go track him down.
She had accomplished this by drawing a list of all the places where men liked to hang out or where they just could be found. She would list the American example and had helpfully included the English equivalent just to increase the transatlantic appeal of the book to other singletons across the pond. -
Train stations/Greyhound buses/ Public Transport/London Underground
Churches
Supermarkets/Retail outlets/The Mall
Hospitals
The Jailhouse/The Police Station/Fire Station/Army Barracks
Sports events i.e.- Softball/ Basketball/Football stadium
Sorority Events/ Alumni Events for Universities i.e. – Association of Lawyers/Doctors/Engineer yearly balls
The School/Cookie mornings/PTA Events
The Library/Internet Café
Bars/The Pub/Discos/Raves/Restaurants
Theatres/Cinema Houses
Self –help seminars/ Business world/Seminars/
Banks
Car Shows
By the time she got to 14 I was in tears. Of laughter.
“Ooh…number 5 looks promising. All we need to do is to hang outside the police station down the road and look for any of the old Bill to emerge and go up and say to any fit officer….Excuse me…but I’m really lost and I need you to show me the way…
Annabel looked hurt.|” I should have known you will turn the whole thing into a joke….look do you like spending every Friday night at home watching Friends?
I thought long and hard. “Its better than hanging outside ….|”I snatched the book and read the list again in a mock American accent…”Train stations, churches, the Mall, hospitals, the jailhouse….Wow…my mum will like that …looking for men in the jailhouse…I can see shades of Jailhouse rock in there girl…..
Annabel’s lips were a thin red line.
Or whatever. According to her mother she was too choosy or not doing enough to make herself look presentable. Short of asking the next eligible male she saw on the street to marry her she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do.
She was 39 and she should be anxious about her ever advancing biological clock, the fact that she had been single for the past 15 months and that in the past few years she had only had one date which had ended in disaster – he had forgotten his wallet at home (or so he claimed) and his phone kept ringing during the date.
Not good.
“I’m out of here.”
“Enjoy the party.”
“I did invite you but you have to be such a party pooper!”
“It’s Friday. I want to sit down with my hair tied up in a scarf, in my old baggy dressing gown and eat lots of ice –cream while I watch footie.”
“You are such a stereotype.” Annabel walked off. “Except for the football.”
