Word has just reached me that the evil tyrant Jacob has kidnapped my dear Isabella to get at me.

    “J-A-C-O-B” I yell in fury.

    How dare he? I would end him when we stand face-to-face in battle; I would tear down mountains, destroy armies, loot Nigeria (chuckles) to get her back….my heart…my soul…my conscience. If everything fails, I shall unleash the Mayan Curse and destroy the entire universe. Nothing dare exist if I can’t get my dear Bella back. Wait for me my love, I’m coming Bella. I’m trembling from barely suppressed rage as I dispassionately toss the head of the messenger into a corner. I stare blankly into the distant horizon while fearing for my love.

    I allow myself a few minutes respite to get a hold of my warring emotions then I snap into action. Bella needs me. I sheathe my sword, examine my loaded guns and finally secure the juju Baba Sikirat gave me securely to my wrist then I grab my Ghana-must-go sack; this is for Jacob’s head and looting Nigeria’s treasury. My name is…..EDWARD KALLIN and I’m a POLITICIAN.

Sighs! Awesome script huh? Wonder why Hollywood dawdles still, give Zibah an Oscar already. Ok, y’all know I’m as dramatic as an old Volkswagen Beetle being cajoled into operation by a young male trying to get to his first mating session (erm, that didn’t make much sense to me either). I also know the short play above sucks bal*z. At any rate, the Mayan calendar has expired and contrary to popular opinion, the Earth’s still rotating. To the man that built an ark while patiently waiting for the second flooding, the Lawyers that repented in preparation for the end of days, the guys (and ladies) that took a break from daily wanking in hopes that all would be forgiven, to Edward Kallin who is currently locked in battle after losing control of the Mayan Curse etc etc what next?.

I doff my hat at ’em Nigerian politicians, there was no break in transmission. For them, come rain or Mayan, looting must progress. So what was Zibah up to 21-12-12?

It’s pretty easy to forget that Zibah is a Youth Corper (Zibah 1 and Zibah 2). I too forget save for when I have to don my NYSC garment; the white vest, green trouser and no-longer-white-with-a-few-tears tennis shoes. 21-12-12 coincidentally was the date for my PPA (place of Primary Assignment)-Advocacy Department at the Ministry End of the Year gig, I frankly didn’t want to go (may I use this medium to humbly ask the Lagos state to settle my State’s allawii na. Like wtf? I need loose cash). I was expecting the party to be a drag. There are about 10 of us (Corpers) and over 50 older ‘typical’ Ministry staff. I envisaged a war the likes of which Sparta and Troy would have trembled before when it was time for refreshment. I mean no disrespect but the staff could b pretty unruly. Anyway, it ended up a success and I surprisingly had fun. Towards the end of the event, a bowl containing ballot papers were passed around; the papers had numbers and corresponded to different gift items. Mine had the number 63 on it. There was a huge wrapped gift box I had set my eyes on but no thanks to my short-sightedness, I couldn’t make out the number on it. Anyway, by the time numbers were being announced, my very good friend Enye went to retrieve her number 36 item and returned with a crate of egg. Boy did I laugh my head off. I poked her continuously (with my elbow silly), whispered ‘mama hen’ several times and even offered to take turns sitting on ‘em eggs with her and reading stories while waiting for the collective heat from our bums to hatch ‘em.

“Number 63”

I stood up and walked gingerly to the stage with so much air to go retrieve my huge wrapped box. Here 63, this is for you and she bent forward and lifted something behind my big wrapped box. “Take this” and she handed me A CRATE OF EGG. Darn, who would have guessed, Enye would laugh her head off. I stumbled away from the stage, disappointed and a tad bit irritated and stared daggers at the lady that asked me to give her 2 of my eggs. Never bit*h.

Party still in full swing, I left the Ministry. I had a client who had fixed an appointment with me some 30mins ago. I was definitely going be very late as Ikeja traffic is legendary. Oh well I may as well take a detour and grab a bowl of ice-cream at Spurs in Ikeja Mall. At 6pm, I gathered my stuffs; my laptop and tab and just as I made to zip the bag, my tab beeped and Edward Kallin’s face appeared on it while the alarm beeped “Mayan Apocalypse” and my Oscar script looped around the screen. I had created it the day before and set the alarm for 6am. I totally forgot about the world. As I drove, I noticed that most Nigerians on the street were engaged in their various activities. Involved in themselves and oblivious to the fact that it may just be their last day.

I got home, fixed dinner, watched a few hours of threesome porn and fell asleep a few hours later. The world and Jacob can end for all I care and Mayan Curse can go haywire all it likes. I was determined to have a wet dream*cackles*.

So how did you spend 21/12/2012, in fear of the unknown, oblivious, in church or in denial? I would love to know, do share.




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