~ Nkita anaghi ata okpukpu a nyanyere ya n'olu (Igbo proverb)
I've never borrowed money from Mr Simeon Nnah although we did have a monetary exchange. He gave some $400 to me and an equivalent sum was paid to his brother at Aba by my mother. He had confirmed receipt of that money before he would release what he gave to me in Needham. This was fine by me. It helped me get started with a lot of things over there. He also provided me room and board for my school paper work. Their aid to me was enormous though not necessarily monetary. It was transient too as the distance between Needham Heights and Morrissey Boulevard was great that I made the decision to relocate back to Boston. I didn't think he and his wife were happy about my decision but I assured them that it was in good faith. He came through for me in the last payment at the Public Storage. The cost was $80 and he hasn't stated that he would take my over 40 books for payment or sexual favours with anybody, his family, mine or anybody else. I didn't have sexual knowledge of any member of his family nor with him till date.I'm eager to repay the $80 whenever he makes himself available. He had made me wait for years, 6 years till 2017 and 9 years till date. At the steps of the Aba Nigeria Temple Complex in 2017, he said that he wasn't asking for money for bringing the property to Nigeria. He has since been making a mountain out of a mole hill. Granted, I couldn't bring my property back myself but somebody else who helped me in a like manner didn't stir up this storm in a tea cup.
In relocating back to Boston, I needed money. I had applied for a student loan and luckily I was able to get a check out of Dallas. This paid for my tuition and got me started on rent in Boston. This was in December, 2005 when I returned from the Dallas trip. I retrieved my lone luggage in Mr Nnah's house while one of his sons named Uzoma was at home. He had gone to give his wife a ride home from work. But they knew of my visit and asked me to speak to their son who was preparing for his LDS Church mission in 2007. I was to later find out that some of my clothes were missing from my luggage. As I had gone out of my apartment on Hyde Park Avenue and I wasn't sure where the clothes got missing from, I didn't know whom to ask. I had let the matter be. My landlord wouldn't let anybody into my apartment in my absence, would he? I was at this time missing a traditional cloth made into a blouse and skirt and a white temple gown. I wouldn't know why anybody would take my cloth from a locked bedroom. I hadn't ever opened a door without having the spare key from the owner or the key from the owner. Till date, it perplexes me how my personal belongings go missing from my always locked bedrooms.
In no time, I began to work on campus and managed to sneak out some chores out of campus. I was going to do school come what may. Luckily, with the loan from the bank my tuition was affordable and I endeavoured to pay rent promptly. It was a hard decision to be by myself but I was determined to do it my way. While in their home, Mrs Nnah had entreated a possible union between me and one of her sons Ike Nnah, an alumnus of UMass Boston. I was to also learn from her that he was courting another Igbo woman called Adaobi Okereke who was also resident in Boston. Ms Okereke wasn't latter-day saints and the older woman didn't want her son to associate with her. She believed that the younger lady wielded a bad influence on him. I was perplexed as I didn't know why it was up to her to take the decision of a spouse for her sons. She shared a dream she had with me and tried to convince me that I was the answer to her prayer and dream. I wasn't really liking that because I believed that it was her son's decision to make and not hers. However, the son who had visited the house in Needham often was friendly but I could see that he didn't take a liking to me. I tried to dissuade her from her stance and encouraged her to support her son's adult decision. It was at this time that she told me that her sons born to her in the USA would marry white women. I didn't like that revelation because it was dictatorial and knowing white Mormons, it could spell doom for them, the sons. Anyway, it was good to escape Needham and all that family drama. She wasn't even in good terms with her first son's choice of a spouse too. So....
However, I remained in good terms with both the Nnahs in Needham and their son with his girlfriend in Boston. I often joined Ike in Adaobi's car to church in Cambridge. We attended the singles' ward on Brattle Street. The Longfellow Park Ward or so, it was called. I wasn't comfortable but the long train ride into Cambridge from Hyde Park made me bite the bullet. It was an interesting place full of students of the nearby schools such as Harvard University, Boston University, BC, Tuft, MIT, etc. Many of them were, of course, white. It was odd and I decided to quit. Before then, Ike Nnah got Adaobi Okereke baptized and I attended her baptismal service. It was on a Sunday evening in 2008 or so. I had started dating a man from Mbaise introduced to me by Mrs Mabel Nnah's brother, one Mr Richard Ogbegbor, called Uncle Richie. Eze Uzoegbu was a taxi driver. I would discover that he was separated from his spouse and was actively looking for a partner. All that didn't seem a trap or a bait at the time and I played along. Eventually, Mr Uzoegbu became a friend. We actively dated for two months but eventually it was decided to let it be if it would be. It wasn't to be. He did prove helpful in many ways including helping me take messages to my mother at Aba, Nigeria and bringing the feedback to me when he travelled back to Nigeria. He also helped me get my paperwork started for my master's degree. I tried to never use people beyond what they were sanely, comfortably and capable of doing. I hate being parasitic, preferring my decision to eke out a living as a foreign student than a dependant in a foreign land. Mrs Mabel Nnah helped me to send and get help from my mother when she too did a trip to Nigeria for her mother's funeral. Hence, I believed that our relationship though strained but cordial. I wasn't among those who called her a witch. It wasn't until I sent a key to my Public Storage cubicle to Mr Nnah in 2011, expecting to get my property at his earliest convenience that I would discover the other side of the couple.
In 2010, I applied to and got admitted into a doctoral programme at the University of Texas at Dallas. This came after many months of applying and waiting for a job in Boston. I decided to try my luck with that and hoped to eventually pay off my school loan that way. I had borrowed $8000, for tuition and books in 2007. I didn't move to Dallas immediately but I took my belongings to a Public Storage in Mattapan and paid for a space. I went to Dallas and decided to see if I could get a job through my optional practical training (OPT) and forfeit the admission or stay back and do school if no job came up. Eventually, I settled down for school that didn't reach completion. The recession was biting hard and a ticket I had paid for to return to Nigeria in October, 2010 wasn't used. There was the confusion over British Airways transit visa and the flight was cancelled afterwards as I couldn't get the transit visa before the flight ticket was to be used. I hadn't known of a transit visa before booking the flight. I had saved up some money, which I hoped to use to pay off my loan if I got a meagre job, buy a ticket and leave for Nigeria. But the job didn't come and I used it up for rent and incidentals. (Wo)Man proposes, and God disposes.
Settling down in Dallas proved to not have been the better decision for me. Public transportation wasn't the norm, unlike Boston. I didn't own a car even though I could drive. So, going to school was hard. Again, I didn't live in the metropolis. Living in the suburb again, would pose a big setback so I opted to move to Dallas from Allen in order to use public transportation. My relative's wife who lived in the suburb gave me a ride to school a few times and like Needham, I knew that I had to do it on my own. They had a young family and had their lives to live. And o, the ridicule. Doctoral education was probably the greediest endeavour on earth. I had no idea. UTD was beautiful. The landscape was lush, the architecture was surreal and like UMass Boston it provided a library for academic exploration. I borrowed from this library for my studies. I had borrowed from UMass Boston too before I left the previous December. From UTD, I borrowed a book on Game Theory. Leaving it behind to travel to Nigeria has since been a pain. Mr Nnah helped me mail it back in 2015. I still owe a $55 library fine.
I ate out for the most part because I didn't know the city well. I was living with a man who had come to me for my master's degree graduation in Boston in 2010. He was living with another woman in Dallas. He was another marriage interest who needed the US gossip network to decide for him and again he wasn't prepared for a serious relationship. Most of these men were in the throes of their own green card drama. They were still married to their wives and seeking marriage at my hand. Nigerian men sha.
It was here in Dallas that I lived until I returned home from school to start having harrowing pain in the pit of my stomach. I managed on brown sugar until the following day. I was such in pain that I called emergency and drove out to where I could find help. I called Mr Man who lived with another lady and he wasn't answering his calls. The ambulance came and I was taken to hospital in Dallas. I was eventually released with minimal help. I got my help my own way. I didn't know that I was to remain in school. I was to later find some people following me around. I called Dallas police, spoke to them when they arrived and eventually went home. I went out to stay with a relative in Dallas from where I took the bus to school. I had an acquaintance with a Ms Lai Agboola, a supposed Yoruba doctor who came to study for a master's degree. I went into school and informed them that I needed to defer my admission as my health had suddenly nose-dived. I hadn't any inkling to the cultural differences between the regions of the United States of America. The school officials claimed that it was already late since it was past add and drop time and I had paid some tuition. I was overwhelmed with regret as I didn't need to be in that ugly situation. I returned to my relative's house and he connived with the police to take me Green Oaks Hospital. I was in there for 5 days and got discharged. I left their home and got in touch with the ones in the suburb while making arrangements to leave the USA. I got a flight to Boston, a few days and left Dallas.
It was there that I re-united with the Nnahs. I explained my predicament to me. Ike and Ada had since married while I was still in Boston. I didn't attend the wedding as it wasn't my job to do so. The couple took me in even though Mrs Nnah kept lamenting my decision to move to Boston as responsible for her son's marriage to the wrong person. I wasn't sure how long she was going to be regretting what I didn't think she hated. Anyway, I informed them that I would be leaving for Nigeria the following day as I had got an emergency flight from home. Mr Simeon Nnah asked me to take my luggage before leaving. I told him that I was too weak to carry any luggage as I was truly indisposed. Now that I'm here, I wish that I had heeded his counsel. It was hard to know what would happen to me on board as I was experiencing fainting spells probably a reaction to the drugs/injection from Green Oaks Hospital. I had left my luggage in Dallas too with my relatives. For a man I respected and called Father, it wasn't expected that he desired such atrocity from me a stranger. It would amount to betrayal of his wife's trust not that I discovered if it would matter to her. Nothing happened between us in Needham nor in Boston - I was never around when Mr Nnah called on Mr James Oyedele my landlord who ran a convenience store and business centre downstairs. Mr Oyedele would often tell me, "Mr Nnah was here," meaning at his shop. Mr Nnah has confessed to me a rather harmless habit of his, which was playing the $1 lotto. So I thought he had come to Mr Oyedele's shop to indulge his sin. Mr Simeone was never in any of my residence nor room outside of his home to the best of my knowledge. Neither was Mr Ikeh Nnah again to my knowledge. Nobody told me so. Yet, I always thought that my roommates were up to some mischief especially with the missing items of clothing and footprints on my cloth carpet, which could still be in the Nnah's custody. Who was actually the Mr Nnah - Simeon or IK or Uzoma or Okezie? Would Mr Nnah have been in my room on Hyde Park Avenue in my absence? Who opened my door for him, for them? I didn't leave with his wife's futon, which she paid for me to use in the basement. I would later learn from her that the cushion bed was taken to her brother's, Mr Richard Ogbebor's, home for their father to use when the old man relocated to the USA.
Returning in Nigeria, I called the Nnahs and begged them to help me get my luggage and other property to their house if that was possible. I had asked around, ensuring that I didn't saddle them with that task. Only their last child, a daughter, was at home. He agreed to help out. He or his brother-in-law Mr Richard Ogbebor often shipped things home and if possible they could help bring my things home. While going to Dallas in December, 2010 I had taken a taxi to airport in order not to miss my flight. I had gone to the Public Storage in Mattapan to keep some of my belongings before heading to Logan. Unfortunately, I hadn't realized that the storage opened at 9:00am. My flight was for 10:00am. I asked the taxi driver, an African American man to help drop the item off on his return from the airport. I gave a copy of the storage key to him. He made good his promise and brought the item to the storage. It was alleged that he made his own trips to the storage and the office locked the storage with another padlock. When I returned to Boston from Dallas in late March to early April, 2011, I met up with him and asked him to help me sell some of the items in my cubile like the small refrigerator and mattress. This was to be a miscalculation. But I was at sea with my decision to leave the USA. I hadn't sold my belongings, hadn't paid off my loan, was probably abandoning my studies and I wasn't going to be the most eligible spinster out there. I was in the home of the Nnahs, in Needham, at this time. I had asked other people for help with keeping my things in their home, people like Ifeoma Okafor Onaga, Nnenna but not my landlord Mr James Oyedele whom I suspected had indulged my former roommates who waylaid (kept away from me) my mail. I went to the USA to study, not to learn of nor join a Nigerian crime syndicate. I paid my bills myself, phone and rent with utilities. I once or twice borrowed airtime from a female roommate on her longdistance paid phone before I got a cellphone from T-Mobile. That was all the help I got from her and her alleged husband, Mr Rowland Ugwu. I never ate their food nor slept with any of them, my Boston roommates. Nigerians and enforced gratification. O di egwu, people.
Upon my return to Nigeria in April 2011, I re-established contact with a few people to help retrieve my belongings from the USA. I contacted a former :LDS Church who lived in Dallas through his relative at Aba. This proved to be the most useful contact till date. At his convenience, he removed my property with the help of my kind relatives in Dallas and in a few months' time I received my luggage from Dallas. I sent a copy of the key for the Public Storage cubicle to Mr Simeon Nnah in July, 2011. For many months I waited for the shipment which didn't come. He made several trips to Nigeria that I didn't hear about in between this time.This time, Governor Victor Ikpeazu was a governor-elect in 2015. Against my will, I went to his temporary place of residence on Okpu Umuobo Road and met with him, his daughter Ms Sarah Nnah and his brother, the butcher whom my mum had given the equivalent of the loan in 2007. I was undergoing hardship and my hair wasn't topnotch. Mr Nnah asked me to go the salon and make my hair. He gave me a gift of N4000 and promised that my luggage would be back by October when they would be sending a shipment of hospital equipment. I was hopeful. This still didn't take place in October, 2015 and not in 2016. It was in 2017 that I got a call from Mrs Mabel Nnah intimating me that they were on an LDS Church mission to Nigeria. It was an eighteen month programme and that I should come into the complex to have a talk with them. I refused to come in as I was already beside myself with disgust with the LDS Church. I had officially written to be excluded from that church membership since 2013. Eventually, on 9th September, 2017 the Nnahs called me to come to Osusu Amaukwa, Ogbor Hill to retrieve my belongins from their 40 foot container. They didn't bring my books to me. These were over 40 books bought from Amazon, and some traditional books stores in Boston, Massachusetts. It was possible something beyond normal happened to Mr Simeon Nnah that has caused this disgusting attitude from in keeping in the about my books and other belongings or it's utter SADISM. I needn't add Satanism.
In relocating back to Boston, I needed money. I had applied for a student loan and luckily I was able to get a check out of Dallas. This paid for my tuition and got me started on rent in Boston. This was in December, 2005 when I returned from the Dallas trip. I retrieved my lone luggage in Mr Nnah's house while one of his sons named Uzoma was at home. He had gone to give his wife a ride home from work. But they knew of my visit and asked me to speak to their son who was preparing for his LDS Church mission in 2007. I was to later find out that some of my clothes were missing from my luggage. As I had gone out of my apartment on Hyde Park Avenue and I wasn't sure where the clothes got missing from, I didn't know whom to ask. I had let the matter be. My landlord wouldn't let anybody into my apartment in my absence, would he? I was at this time missing a traditional cloth made into a blouse and skirt and a white temple gown. I wouldn't know why anybody would take my cloth from a locked bedroom. I hadn't ever opened a door without having the spare key from the owner or the key from the owner. Till date, it perplexes me how my personal belongings go missing from my always locked bedrooms.
In no time, I began to work on campus and managed to sneak out some chores out of campus. I was going to do school come what may. Luckily, with the loan from the bank my tuition was affordable and I endeavoured to pay rent promptly. It was a hard decision to be by myself but I was determined to do it my way. While in their home, Mrs Nnah had entreated a possible union between me and one of her sons Ike Nnah, an alumnus of UMass Boston. I was to also learn from her that he was courting another Igbo woman called Adaobi Okereke who was also resident in Boston. Ms Okereke wasn't latter-day saints and the older woman didn't want her son to associate with her. She believed that the younger lady wielded a bad influence on him. I was perplexed as I didn't know why it was up to her to take the decision of a spouse for her sons. She shared a dream she had with me and tried to convince me that I was the answer to her prayer and dream. I wasn't really liking that because I believed that it was her son's decision to make and not hers. However, the son who had visited the house in Needham often was friendly but I could see that he didn't take a liking to me. I tried to dissuade her from her stance and encouraged her to support her son's adult decision. It was at this time that she told me that her sons born to her in the USA would marry white women. I didn't like that revelation because it was dictatorial and knowing white Mormons, it could spell doom for them, the sons. Anyway, it was good to escape Needham and all that family drama. She wasn't even in good terms with her first son's choice of a spouse too. So....
However, I remained in good terms with both the Nnahs in Needham and their son with his girlfriend in Boston. I often joined Ike in Adaobi's car to church in Cambridge. We attended the singles' ward on Brattle Street. The Longfellow Park Ward or so, it was called. I wasn't comfortable but the long train ride into Cambridge from Hyde Park made me bite the bullet. It was an interesting place full of students of the nearby schools such as Harvard University, Boston University, BC, Tuft, MIT, etc. Many of them were, of course, white. It was odd and I decided to quit. Before then, Ike Nnah got Adaobi Okereke baptized and I attended her baptismal service. It was on a Sunday evening in 2008 or so. I had started dating a man from Mbaise introduced to me by Mrs Mabel Nnah's brother, one Mr Richard Ogbegbor, called Uncle Richie. Eze Uzoegbu was a taxi driver. I would discover that he was separated from his spouse and was actively looking for a partner. All that didn't seem a trap or a bait at the time and I played along. Eventually, Mr Uzoegbu became a friend. We actively dated for two months but eventually it was decided to let it be if it would be. It wasn't to be. He did prove helpful in many ways including helping me take messages to my mother at Aba, Nigeria and bringing the feedback to me when he travelled back to Nigeria. He also helped me get my paperwork started for my master's degree. I tried to never use people beyond what they were sanely, comfortably and capable of doing. I hate being parasitic, preferring my decision to eke out a living as a foreign student than a dependant in a foreign land. Mrs Mabel Nnah helped me to send and get help from my mother when she too did a trip to Nigeria for her mother's funeral. Hence, I believed that our relationship though strained but cordial. I wasn't among those who called her a witch. It wasn't until I sent a key to my Public Storage cubicle to Mr Nnah in 2011, expecting to get my property at his earliest convenience that I would discover the other side of the couple.
In 2010, I applied to and got admitted into a doctoral programme at the University of Texas at Dallas. This came after many months of applying and waiting for a job in Boston. I decided to try my luck with that and hoped to eventually pay off my school loan that way. I had borrowed $8000, for tuition and books in 2007. I didn't move to Dallas immediately but I took my belongings to a Public Storage in Mattapan and paid for a space. I went to Dallas and decided to see if I could get a job through my optional practical training (OPT) and forfeit the admission or stay back and do school if no job came up. Eventually, I settled down for school that didn't reach completion. The recession was biting hard and a ticket I had paid for to return to Nigeria in October, 2010 wasn't used. There was the confusion over British Airways transit visa and the flight was cancelled afterwards as I couldn't get the transit visa before the flight ticket was to be used. I hadn't known of a transit visa before booking the flight. I had saved up some money, which I hoped to use to pay off my loan if I got a meagre job, buy a ticket and leave for Nigeria. But the job didn't come and I used it up for rent and incidentals. (Wo)Man proposes, and God disposes.
Settling down in Dallas proved to not have been the better decision for me. Public transportation wasn't the norm, unlike Boston. I didn't own a car even though I could drive. So, going to school was hard. Again, I didn't live in the metropolis. Living in the suburb again, would pose a big setback so I opted to move to Dallas from Allen in order to use public transportation. My relative's wife who lived in the suburb gave me a ride to school a few times and like Needham, I knew that I had to do it on my own. They had a young family and had their lives to live. And o, the ridicule. Doctoral education was probably the greediest endeavour on earth. I had no idea. UTD was beautiful. The landscape was lush, the architecture was surreal and like UMass Boston it provided a library for academic exploration. I borrowed from this library for my studies. I had borrowed from UMass Boston too before I left the previous December. From UTD, I borrowed a book on Game Theory. Leaving it behind to travel to Nigeria has since been a pain. Mr Nnah helped me mail it back in 2015. I still owe a $55 library fine.
I ate out for the most part because I didn't know the city well. I was living with a man who had come to me for my master's degree graduation in Boston in 2010. He was living with another woman in Dallas. He was another marriage interest who needed the US gossip network to decide for him and again he wasn't prepared for a serious relationship. Most of these men were in the throes of their own green card drama. They were still married to their wives and seeking marriage at my hand. Nigerian men sha.
It was here in Dallas that I lived until I returned home from school to start having harrowing pain in the pit of my stomach. I managed on brown sugar until the following day. I was such in pain that I called emergency and drove out to where I could find help. I called Mr Man who lived with another lady and he wasn't answering his calls. The ambulance came and I was taken to hospital in Dallas. I was eventually released with minimal help. I got my help my own way. I didn't know that I was to remain in school. I was to later find some people following me around. I called Dallas police, spoke to them when they arrived and eventually went home. I went out to stay with a relative in Dallas from where I took the bus to school. I had an acquaintance with a Ms Lai Agboola, a supposed Yoruba doctor who came to study for a master's degree. I went into school and informed them that I needed to defer my admission as my health had suddenly nose-dived. I hadn't any inkling to the cultural differences between the regions of the United States of America. The school officials claimed that it was already late since it was past add and drop time and I had paid some tuition. I was overwhelmed with regret as I didn't need to be in that ugly situation. I returned to my relative's house and he connived with the police to take me Green Oaks Hospital. I was in there for 5 days and got discharged. I left their home and got in touch with the ones in the suburb while making arrangements to leave the USA. I got a flight to Boston, a few days and left Dallas.
It was there that I re-united with the Nnahs. I explained my predicament to me. Ike and Ada had since married while I was still in Boston. I didn't attend the wedding as it wasn't my job to do so. The couple took me in even though Mrs Nnah kept lamenting my decision to move to Boston as responsible for her son's marriage to the wrong person. I wasn't sure how long she was going to be regretting what I didn't think she hated. Anyway, I informed them that I would be leaving for Nigeria the following day as I had got an emergency flight from home. Mr Simeon Nnah asked me to take my luggage before leaving. I told him that I was too weak to carry any luggage as I was truly indisposed. Now that I'm here, I wish that I had heeded his counsel. It was hard to know what would happen to me on board as I was experiencing fainting spells probably a reaction to the drugs/injection from Green Oaks Hospital. I had left my luggage in Dallas too with my relatives. For a man I respected and called Father, it wasn't expected that he desired such atrocity from me a stranger. It would amount to betrayal of his wife's trust not that I discovered if it would matter to her. Nothing happened between us in Needham nor in Boston - I was never around when Mr Nnah called on Mr James Oyedele my landlord who ran a convenience store and business centre downstairs. Mr Oyedele would often tell me, "Mr Nnah was here," meaning at his shop. Mr Nnah has confessed to me a rather harmless habit of his, which was playing the $1 lotto. So I thought he had come to Mr Oyedele's shop to indulge his sin. Mr Simeone was never in any of my residence nor room outside of his home to the best of my knowledge. Neither was Mr Ikeh Nnah again to my knowledge. Nobody told me so. Yet, I always thought that my roommates were up to some mischief especially with the missing items of clothing and footprints on my cloth carpet, which could still be in the Nnah's custody. Who was actually the Mr Nnah - Simeon or IK or Uzoma or Okezie? Would Mr Nnah have been in my room on Hyde Park Avenue in my absence? Who opened my door for him, for them? I didn't leave with his wife's futon, which she paid for me to use in the basement. I would later learn from her that the cushion bed was taken to her brother's, Mr Richard Ogbebor's, home for their father to use when the old man relocated to the USA.
Returning in Nigeria, I called the Nnahs and begged them to help me get my luggage and other property to their house if that was possible. I had asked around, ensuring that I didn't saddle them with that task. Only their last child, a daughter, was at home. He agreed to help out. He or his brother-in-law Mr Richard Ogbebor often shipped things home and if possible they could help bring my things home. While going to Dallas in December, 2010 I had taken a taxi to airport in order not to miss my flight. I had gone to the Public Storage in Mattapan to keep some of my belongings before heading to Logan. Unfortunately, I hadn't realized that the storage opened at 9:00am. My flight was for 10:00am. I asked the taxi driver, an African American man to help drop the item off on his return from the airport. I gave a copy of the storage key to him. He made good his promise and brought the item to the storage. It was alleged that he made his own trips to the storage and the office locked the storage with another padlock. When I returned to Boston from Dallas in late March to early April, 2011, I met up with him and asked him to help me sell some of the items in my cubile like the small refrigerator and mattress. This was to be a miscalculation. But I was at sea with my decision to leave the USA. I hadn't sold my belongings, hadn't paid off my loan, was probably abandoning my studies and I wasn't going to be the most eligible spinster out there. I was in the home of the Nnahs, in Needham, at this time. I had asked other people for help with keeping my things in their home, people like Ifeoma Okafor Onaga, Nnenna but not my landlord Mr James Oyedele whom I suspected had indulged my former roommates who waylaid (kept away from me) my mail. I went to the USA to study, not to learn of nor join a Nigerian crime syndicate. I paid my bills myself, phone and rent with utilities. I once or twice borrowed airtime from a female roommate on her longdistance paid phone before I got a cellphone from T-Mobile. That was all the help I got from her and her alleged husband, Mr Rowland Ugwu. I never ate their food nor slept with any of them, my Boston roommates. Nigerians and enforced gratification. O di egwu, people.
Upon my return to Nigeria in April 2011, I re-established contact with a few people to help retrieve my belongings from the USA. I contacted a former :LDS Church who lived in Dallas through his relative at Aba. This proved to be the most useful contact till date. At his convenience, he removed my property with the help of my kind relatives in Dallas and in a few months' time I received my luggage from Dallas. I sent a copy of the key for the Public Storage cubicle to Mr Simeon Nnah in July, 2011. For many months I waited for the shipment which didn't come. He made several trips to Nigeria that I didn't hear about in between this time.This time, Governor Victor Ikpeazu was a governor-elect in 2015. Against my will, I went to his temporary place of residence on Okpu Umuobo Road and met with him, his daughter Ms Sarah Nnah and his brother, the butcher whom my mum had given the equivalent of the loan in 2007. I was undergoing hardship and my hair wasn't topnotch. Mr Nnah asked me to go the salon and make my hair. He gave me a gift of N4000 and promised that my luggage would be back by October when they would be sending a shipment of hospital equipment. I was hopeful. This still didn't take place in October, 2015 and not in 2016. It was in 2017 that I got a call from Mrs Mabel Nnah intimating me that they were on an LDS Church mission to Nigeria. It was an eighteen month programme and that I should come into the complex to have a talk with them. I refused to come in as I was already beside myself with disgust with the LDS Church. I had officially written to be excluded from that church membership since 2013. Eventually, on 9th September, 2017 the Nnahs called me to come to Osusu Amaukwa, Ogbor Hill to retrieve my belongins from their 40 foot container. They didn't bring my books to me. These were over 40 books bought from Amazon, and some traditional books stores in Boston, Massachusetts. It was possible something beyond normal happened to Mr Simeon Nnah that has caused this disgusting attitude from in keeping in the about my books and other belongings or it's utter SADISM. I needn't add Satanism.
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