It Couldn't Matter Less

By OMOSEYE BOLAJI

Recently my birthday was marked rather quietly – though there was a plethora of gifts that came my way from a cross-section of South Africans. I am grateful to them all, but one particular touching – though inexpensive – gift/gesture remains indelible in my mind.


And it came from an unexpected source; let’s just call the gentleman in question Raphael, an intelligent essayist and literary critic whom I have known for many years, since he was a bibliophilic young man in fact. He always buys copies of my books and has reviewed many of them over the years. I can not really say I have been close to him since I sometimes do not even see him for up to a year: and he has a rather strange character anyway!

He contacted me via email and told me he would be visiting Bloemfontein city after a long time; and that he had something “small” to give me as a birthday present. I was a bit surprised, since he has never really been the emotional type and he has never cared for my birthday before. Somehow I guessed that his gift would somehow be connected with books, and I was proved right. But it was still a VERY pleasant surprise.

We met the weekend just after my birthday and he was as inscrutable as ever. He won’t thank me for saying this, but does he ever smile? (Laugh) He explained that he had to leave very soon (as usual) as he had urgent family affairs to take care of. Strangely enough, we were inside the main post office, which was quite deserted mainly because of the cold weather.

He had a bag with him, which presumably contained my present. In his lugubrious way he started crisply: “You know, I like other commentators have been interested in your literary influences since you were a kid. These things are always over-simplified, but in many studies written on you, even by me, we always blandly talk about writers like Chase, Sheldon, Cheyney, Francis etc as influencing you...”

I said nothing, as he went on: “Then I read that article, the second one that mentions you, by scholar and researcher Achal Prabhala, where he focuses on Peter Cheyney in particular. I myself had never seen a Cheyney book in my whole life. But I told myself that I must do all I can to buy a Cheyney book for you, even if just for your current library. I was in Cape Town last week, and happily enough after trawling a few old book centres I managed to get a Peter Cheyney book. For just for fifteen rand! What a bargain! I hope you’ll accept the old copy as a present,”

Excitement surged through me. How many decades ago had I last physically seen a Cheyney book myself, though I had read dozens of them as a kid? Raphael opened his bag and brought out the book, titled It couldn’t matter less.

I began to shake. At rare times like this I am quite likely to become nigh-comatose; incredibly the book had the same cover of the copy I had known decades ago! Profile of a woman with the face of the 'notorious' bland Slim Callaghan (detective) somewhat in the background! How I remembered the book!

I almost reeled as my mind went back to my father’s old library where It couldn’t matter less lay among the dusty shelves for many years. How I read the book intermittently then...whilst travelling in-between cities like Ibadan, Oyo, Osogbo, Lagos Akure, Ife (where I had attended university) etc. And I also remembered that the book had been lent to my old friend, Kunle Apantaku who never returned it.

Ah, Kunle. What memories! He was so much in love with writing since we were kids and wrote two astonishingly intelligent novels whilst still a teen ager. Pity that he fell by the wayside as a writer; and worst of all, something terrible happened to him over the years. Raphael did not know it, but this was one of the most touching gifts I had ever received!!!

But all Raphael could see now was someone who seemed about to faint or collapse...”Hey” he said. “You seem upset. I’m sorry, if you don’t want the book-“ He tried to touch the book, but within a jiffy this rare copy of It couldn’t matter less was already ensconced in my bag! “A wonderful gift and present,” I said. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me, but maybe you’ll read about it one day! Thanks so much!”

“Hey ntate!” Raphael protested. “Why don’t you let me gift-wrap the book for you?”

I grinned. “Don’t bother. It couldn’t matter less,” I said.

Troughs and Crests of the Olympics

By OMOSEYE BOLAJI

There is no running away from the fact that Nigeria’s recent participation at the 2012 London Olympics was an unmitigated disaster. The only “consolation” is that the word “participation” is apt; at least the country was represented – even though the contingent could not garner even one paltry bronze medal whilst representing a nation of over 100 million people!


Yet some might argue that the Olympics is the acme of global participation; it is not a kids’ jaunt...participants are up against the very best in the world; hence to haul in any medal is very difficult indeed. But then, this must be set against the backdrop of just one country, USA winning over 40 gold medals! With China, and Britain (hosts) not very much far behind. Jamaica is a very small country of just a few millions, yet with magisterial Usain Bolt to the fore, the country harvested a number of gold medals, never mind silver and bronze.

And yes, Africa as a whole did dismally at the Olympics – as usual, really. Apart from the usual intermittent athletic medal hauls for Kenya, Ethiopia, Uganda (very last day of athletics), hardly any African country came into the picture. West Africa as a whole (with some 15 countries) might as well not have travelled to the Olympics! So bleak was the picture.

South Africa was by far the best performer from the continent at the Olympics; and I must confess that I had some vicarious pleasure in seeing the country winning three gold medals, two silvers, and a bronze medal. I even published features on these achievements. But more about of this later – let’s revisit how Nigeria won NOTHING at the latest Olympics

No wonder, countless millions of Nigerians back at home and those dotted in other places around the world have been debating what could have precipitated such a disaster. Apart from the usual “fire brigade” approach, mismanagement, poor planning etc; others have pointed to the fact that even from the very grassroots, outstanding talent is hardly emerging these days; with the inter-house (school) sports that was so competitive and eagerly anticipated years ago now attenuated and peripheral. The fact that some Nigerian sportsmen are even turning out for other (richer) countries has worsened matters.

Yet perhaps it is not a doomsday scenario. Was it not the same Nigeria that had done so brilliantly in the most popular sport at the Olympics – football? In 1996, the country created history by becoming the first African country to win the Olympic gold for football. Just four years ago in China, Nigeria again got to the final, and walked away with the silver. A commendable feat when we remember that Brazil, generally believed to be the best football country in the world, has NEVER won the Olympic gold medal for football. But then again, maybe it is ominous that the Nigerian football squad did not even qualify for the Olympics this year.

Yet it was not so long ago when Nigeria produced some of the most thrilling sprint runners in the world, epitomised by the magnificent Mary Onyali who literally ran her heart out for the country for many years. Even at the latest Olympics especially in the 4 by 400 metres relay, Nigeria showed glimpses of talent. With Jamaica and USA in particular dominating the short distances it would take some sort of miracle for African countries to really challenge...but do not let us give in to despair. Maybe another Frank Fredericks is around the corner?

The polemics will continue over how Nigeria can turn around their sporting fortunes at the highest level; meanwhile South Africa was reasonably satisfied with their medals haul at the latest Olympics. Not surprisingly, all the three gold medals (most of the medals, actually) came from “white sports” like swimming and rowing. These are sports very unpopular or even non-existent in west African countries. Maybe some Nigerians still remember Valerie Oloyede and her swimming prowess many years ago – but she was a rarity indeed. Anyway, two white South Africans: Cameron van der Burgh and Chad le Clos won gold medals, and became overnight celebrities.

But the truth is that virtually all the Black people who are by far the majority in South Africa were more focused on the exploits of the remarkable Caster Semenya whom many expected to win a gold medal in the 800 metres. The girl won silver – a superb achievement at the Olympics, yet millions still felt a whiff of disappointment; they had wanted gold! Silver at Olympics’ athletics! Imagine how she would have been worshipped if she was a Nigerian or Ghanaian...
PHOTOS (Top) : Caster Semenya; middle - Mary Onyali

CLIMATE OF FEAR

By OMOSEYE BOLAJI

The non-smoking zone here was essentially occupied by only two of us, seated on adjacent sofas. I for one; and then the white lady to my left sprawled on the sofa, seemingly tossing and turning whilst asleep. Or so it seemed, as two, there young men intermittently came to our side, making prurient plans and comments as regards the woman.

This was an eatery/tavern joint I rarely came to. But as I passed the place today the assistant manager in charge who happened to be a friend of mine saw me and shouted that “it had been a long time and I should enter and have at least one drink on the house” as it were; so I decided to relax a bit at the non-smoking zone where few people came to. But because of the woman there now, the white woman, the pesky guys kept on popping in and out!

They moved close again and their conversation was so bad, so embarrassing this time around – they were volubly saying what they would like to do to the woman – that I was moved to tell them: “Gentlemen, pls! This is South Africa, a free country. Leave the woman alone, asseblief (Please). Let her feel free here. Remember that this is August, Women’s Month. Just assume the lady is your sister or Aunt...you won’t want any harm to befall them...what do you say, pals?”

I was expecting at least one of them to be angry or belligerent towards me, but the two beside me just moved closer to me and said: “Thank you my brother. We are good people. We never meant the lady any harm. God knows that. We know you our brother; we’ve seen you in the papers. We are not bad people...” The one near me hugged me, followed by the other one who smelt strongly of cigarette. “We are sorry, we won’t disturb her...or you...we’ll go back to our table. We MUST respect women,” It was almost a comedy of errors, but that’s what drink could do!

I finished my drink and decided to relax a bit. Then I heard the supine white lady on the sofa say to me: “Thank you,” She did not sound drunk at all, just a bit tired. She sat up and came to sit beside me. After telling me her name was Nadia she went on:

“I was listening to them as I lay on the sofa. Foolish guys. They don’t know I have no fear for them. I can take care of myself anytime, and I rather like putting men in their place. You know Charlize Theron, the great SA actress of course. You know what her mother did to her father,”

I nodded solemnly. “She killed him, eh? Must have been very traumatic for Charlize.”

“Yes.” The lady said. “Charlize’s Mom killed her man. Self-defence. I killed my husband too years ago. He abused me. I had to spend time in jail for this of course. No regrets. Killing a person makes you feel a certain way. Sort of powerful and fearless. You know how it is,”

At this stage I had to admit to her, feeling almost ashamed in the process, that I have never actually killed any human being in my life.

She stared at me. “Ah well,” she went on. “Anybody, especially a man who tries to be violent with me will regret the day he was born. Have you heard about Katherine Knight?”

I could not immediately remember the connotation of the name, so Nadia explained to me now: “Katherine killed her lover in a bad way, I suppose. She stabbed him many times, dozens of times. Then she cut off his head, then she skinned him...cooked his body parts... what she did horrified the world; but for me I regard Katherine Knight as a sort of role model,”

I flinched. I now remembered the case of Katherine Mary Knight. A sadistic abuser and killer! The only thing on my mind now was to get away from this so-called lady! I tried to look calm and steady. “Interesting,” I said. “Pity I must go now. It’s been nice meeting you,”

She stared at me again. “You are shaking, my friend,” she said. “Surely you are not scared of me? Did what I said scare you? Surely you know I would never attack or harm someone like you; I now regard you as my friend...” But I felt even more uneasy.

“I am not scared,” I lied. “I just have to keep an appointment now,”. I forced a smile. I did not want her to regard me as an enemy!

“Okay...” she smiled. “Will you give me your number then? And perhaps a hug?”

I forced myself to do this. And as you can guess, it was a fake number I gave her!

PHOTO (Top) Katherine Knight, who killed her lover, cooked his flesh, and served this on plates...

THE ALLURE OF LARGER THAN LIFE WOMEN

By OMOSEYE BOLAJI

I marvelled at the young lady’s prowess as she unpacked, unfurled the paraphernalia of her filming equipment with punctilious dexterity. And she was strong to boot! I wondered whether I myself could carry all the equipment she easily handled? Probably not. Yet although I teased her about being a “tomboy” et al, she was – is – an attractive young lady.

This was Winnie, the producer of a film documentary being made about me. I had flinched at what seemed to be an interminable list of questions I was supposed to answer. This was enough to drive anybody crazy! But as time unraveled, her utter professionalism made a great impression on me; even though I did refuse to answer a few of her questions.

Relaxed temporarily, the cameras away, whilst having lunch, she smiled and asked again: “Oh those women! Those interesting women who dot your books! (my fiction) She shook her head. “Oh my – just tell me – in real life, you don’t strike me as someone who likes women, but in your books! Oh! – “ she laughed again. “Don’t you want to say something about this; off the record perhaps?”

I grinned. There was a lot to say; but it was something of a pity that I thought she was too young to appreciate what would have been my real answer. I had old international movies in particular in mind – which was supposed to be her specialty, but actually was not. She was just too young to fully understand or have gone through what I had in mind; though she was brilliant in her field.

I was thinking of how women, interesting, intriguing captivating women have made the world sparkle with their larger than life essence in world history, books and movies. Just think of Cleopatra and Helen of Troy. They remain legends till date. Imagine a woman launching countless ships just because of her persona?

In the world of books, women add so much allure to works, whether classical or “popular” (including thrillers. Even Shakespeare knew this hence the gallery of intriguing women in his works, including the tragic heroines like Desdemona (Othello) or Ophelia (Hamlet). There are so many other classical works, like Madam Bovary, Batsheba Everdene (Thomas Hardy), Lolita (Naborov)

Even in African books, certain works became famous or notorious – probably both – because of the haunting nature of the female protagonists there. Like the Concubine (by Elechi Amadi) which featured a charming woman – Ihuoma - who seemed to destroy all her male suitors; like Ekwensi’s Jagua Nana which focuses on a ruthless yet irresistible “woman of easy virtue”

But these effects have been encapsulated in diverse movies over the decades. In the “good old days” when the big screen was god all over the world certain ladies (female actresses) found themselves being worshipped by millions as sex symbols and even in their old age now (or deceased) they are still highly venerated.

Just imagine names like Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor, Brigitte Bardot, and Raquel Welch. They have gone down in history. They transcended the image itself and became household names during their eras in virtually every country in the world. They were more than iconic, to coin a cliché. Millions descended on cinemas, the big screen just to watch them.

Many pundits have pointed out that the “James Bond girls” over the decades have often been cinematographic triumphs. From the very first Bond, Doctor No, where Ursula Andress made a spectacular entry onto the screen! Remarkably, the producers of the movies have kept up the tradition, knowing how captivating special women can be so enchanting to countless millions watching the movies.

Hence Andress was followed Daniella Bianchi who starred brilliantly in From Russia with Love; we have had other stunning beauties like Barbara Bach (The spy who loved me) Jane Seymour (Live and let Die), Tanya Boyd (A View to a kill), Halle Berry (Die another Day) to mention just a few. Without these ladies, the films could not have been so extraordinarily successful.

Admittedly, nowadays the big screen is not as magical as it was decades ago, especially in Africa, but the sex symbols still abound in our modern times. Julia Roberts, Aishwarya Rai, Angelina Jolie, etc still have countless millions drooling over them and their characters on the screen. To undermine the impact or effect of intriguing women whether in history, books or movies would be incredibly fatuous.

But of course I did not go into such details with Winnie the film producer. I just said simply: “You know, women add a lot of spice and allure to books, etc. Without them so many books – just like movies -will be boring. My readers love enchanting women and I try to deliver the goods for them…one way or the other!”

PHOTOS: Ursula Andress (Top), Brigitte Bardot (Middle) and Aishwarya Rai (Below)





 

   

QUINTESSENCE OF EVIL

By Omoseye Bolaji

The poor young man was not only chased and hounded at the graveyard; he was ruthlessly stabbed many times. Then his head was cut off. And his face was stripped from his head! Thereafter his body parts were defiled in the most horrific fashion. Later, the police were to find diverse parts of his body all over the place – in the local graveyard, garden.

In case you are thinking: this is yet another unsavoury case of African muti (juju) black magic; you will be wrong! Very. The crime enumerated briefly here was actually perpetrated by a white woman; a gorgeous young South African white woman!

It is a harrowing, horrific, exceedingly shocking incident that continues to shock South Africans. The brief facts are as follows: a young white man , Van Eck thought he was finding love on the internet when he corresponded with a lovely young white woman, Chane van Heerden (20). The lady told him they should meet in person at a graveyard one night in the town of Welkom.

Never for a moment did the man think that he could be walking into danger. Grave danger! He was rather exhilarated and intoxicated at the prospect of meeting the lovely young lady in the flesh, at night! Hence the poor gentleman went to the graveyard…and that was the end of him.

As the girl, Chane van Heerden, confessed in court later, she and a male accomplice (Maartens Van Der Merwe (24) at the graveyard had attacked, ran after, and stabbed Van Eck many times. Then they had decapitated him and cut him to pieces. Unspeakable things had been done to his face and torso before his body parts were buried and even stored in a refrigerator.

It was incredibly shocking for South Africans to hear the young lady, Chane van Heerden, confessing to what they had done to van Eck and his body. She herself had “skinned his face and enjoyed doing so”

Suggestions of Satanism, Cultism etc were made by many “pundits” to explain why a young lady like Chane van Heerden could have done such horrific things to another human being. Yet all the parties involved were white…

For example, South African essayist and writer, Mzwandile Soqaga has said: “You wonder what the white perpetrators - the young woman and the man gained whilst doing this terrible thing to another human being. It appears it was done just for the macabre thrills!”

Indeed in the maleficent world of muti in the black African world, such horrific murders – including the mutilation and appropriation of human body parts are perpetrated for a specific purpose; mainly because of the belief that such violated parts can augment or enhance material wealth, bring good luck etc

But in this case, everybody was baffled as to why Van Eck had been so cruelly dealt with. Anyway, the young lady Chane van Heerden, has been given a lengthy sentence in jail which by South African standards is more or less tantamount to a life sentence…

A HARVEST OF GRIM DEATHS

By Omoseye Bolaji

“Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.”

- Isaac Asimov

The message from my female South African journalist - sent via text
message was depressing –

“Morning, my editor. My younger brother was brutally killed on Friday. I’m going home today…” Later on I would hear the other terrible details of the death from her.

I winced. Another unnecessary death! A young life cruelly nipped in the bud again. Murder most foul. Another statistic of violence!

There is no running away from a general perception that in many ways South Africa can easily be construed as a very violent country where human life meretriciously means little. Reports of violent deeds and murder
are redolent.

The mass media does little to attenuate this perception. Every day in the print and electronic media, there are
lurid reports of wanton killings, men and women being slaughtered, farmers butchered etc. But as I pondered this new personal disaster afflicting my female journalist, my mind went back to a number of grisly deaths involving people I had known in South Africa over the years.

The first that came to my mind was “young” Themba who was the son of my first landlady here. A promising handsome youngster, he was tipped by most to carve a niche for himself in the near future. I left that house but still remained close to that family. Then I heard that Themba was now out of school and had a good job, and was taking care of his mother...then disaster!

I ran into Sandi, the younger brother of Themba and asked him about the family, and Themba in particular. I saw an involuntary shudder run through his body.

“So you haven’t heard?” he started. “Themba is dead. He was stabbed to death, ntate. Just because he bought a new fine cellphone. They left him to bleed to death on the ground in winter. They took his phone...”

What a senseless murder! But it is just one of many I know about personally here. Then there was the”gentleman” Lebohang who I had liked in the beginning. Amiable and genial. Then people told me he had killed two people, stabbing them viciously to death. He noticed my sudden discomfiture one day and laughed.

“So you heard about the guys I killed? It was self-defence, my brother.” He grinned at me and added. “Well, more or less! I am not afraid to kill a human if needs be”. Yet he himself met his end after being
brutally stabbed by an assailant. He who lives by the sword...?

And what about “Aunt Rita”? Friendly, empathetic lady. We used to meet intermittently,
her daughter - in her late teens - in tow. Uncharacteristically I saw the daughter all alone in toropo (the city)one day. I asked about her mother.

There was a terrible silence. She managed to say – “They killed my wonderful mum horribly. An assailant came at night and stabbed her so many times. The blood flowed from her bed to the kitchen... “ And she
began to cry

Alas, sadly, many Nigerians regularly lose their lives in South Africa too, some in gruesome fashion. For me one of the saddest cases was that of a Nigerian who operated a saloon here. I always had a soft spot for
him as I was the one who initially lent him most of the money he used to start his business.

His business acumen and nous were never in doubt and his business blossomed. I visited him every now and then; he was very much a people’s person. The news of his death really shocked me.

I gathered that he was stabbed in the torso many times by one of his closest South African acquaintances, who was drunk at the time whilst having an altercation with him. The same assailant, once sobered down,
whilst visiting the stabbed Nigerian in hospital, was told that he had passed away!

Yet, despite these sad recollections, I can not in good conscience say that I consider South Africans to be essentially violent people. There is violence all over the world. I really don't know...

Omoseye Bolaji writes on the idiocy of racial prejudice

As I watched the recently concluded Euro 2012 with South African friends, the arrant, blinkered idiocy of racial prejudice hit me like a ton of bricks!

This was particularly so during the 2nd semi final between Italy and Germany of which the latter were the hot favourites to win. Yet Italy won thanks to two
superb goals by their so called black striker, Mario Balotelli who played a blinder. Italians in their millions celebrated, crying with joy.

Yet Balotelli is as "black" as anybody could be, came into this world courtesy of authentic Ghanaian parents. He was brought up by Italian foster parents. In fact he dedicated his goals to his white Italian adoptive mother.

 Indeed sports, especially football has done a lot in reducing the centuries old prejudice against blacks by the western world. Now it is no longer almost impossible to see black players strutting their stuff for traditionally white countries.

Pele has always been a legend in football, hailing from Brazil, arguably the most racially mixed country in the world. Pele during World Cup finals starting in 1958 showed the world how brilliant and dexterous a black man can be with the ball.

 By the mid sixties Portugal became the first European country to benefit from fielding a brilliant black player. This was Eusebio, actually born in Africa but
starring for Portugal. He was by far the top goal scorer in the 1966 World Cup finals.

 France and England began to benefit from utilising black players too. Some 30 years ago the sleek Marius Tresor, a black player, actually captained France in a couple of
matches. In the 80s the superb black midfielder, Tigana, lit up matches for France.

 In 1998 many black players helped France to winthe World Cup for the first time. Apart from then young Thierry Henry and Patrick Vieira, Marcel Dessailly was actually born in Ghana, whilst even Zinadine Zidane was the French born son of Algerians.

 By the 80s black players in England were doing well too. Winger Mark Chanberlain used to remind me of Nigeria s Segun  Odegbami. John Barnes became a household name especially after scoring a fantastic goal for England against Brazil. When Des Walker a superb black defender began to play for England the latter even made it to the semi-finals of the 1990 World Cup.

And during the recent 2012 Euro tourney many black players were now ensconced in the squad, it was no longer a novelty. In the attack alone, there was Ashley Young,
Walcott, Danny Welbeck, and young Oxlain Chamberlain. Not to mention
Daniel Defoe!

In many other quote white European countries, they can now boast of black players representing them internationally. Think of Vincent Khampony of Belgium, stalwart of his club, Manchester City. Many of these players, like Balotelli, have their roots in Africa. 

Another example of this that we saw at Euro 2012 was Thodor Halessie who played
for the Czeck Republic; with an Ethiopian father. Angelo Ogbonna who played for Italy was born in that country of Nigerian parents. Then there is Jores Okore  - Ivorian born – playing for Denmark...

The trends extend far beyond football. In boxing for over 50 years the great Muhammad Ali brought glamour, wise-cracking, and zest to the sport. British boxer, Frank Bruno, though black, is a household darling. David Haye is charismatic too.

The Williams sisters - though naturally aging now - dominated world tennis for a decade or more. Venus and Serena. In the sphere of golf, despite his recent problems, Tiger Woods is largely synonymous with the sport.

 And never mind music where blacks rule the roost! Let us just conclude by very briefly looking at acting where there are now many black superstars. Yet incredibly, just over 50 years ago, there was almost no important black actor. Then great Sir Sidney Poitier as a black actor went on to show the idiocy of racial
prejudice...
Photos: Balotelli (top), Eusebio (middle) and John Barnes (below)