I was
stressed.
There was a
movie premiere coming up in a matter of weeks and since my friend had left the
country on the compulsory maternity leave, I was left to pilot the organization
and preparation towards the event.
It was also
my first time doing this job solo so one can imagine the physical,
psychological and emotional energy I had put into the project. At this point, I
had done everything from blowing a gasket in anger, to heaping curses which of
course was done in the secrecy of my mind to breaking down in tears. It was far
from a pleasant experience. I had even called my friend to tell her I wasn’t
sure if I could go on with this on my own. I was an emotional steamroller on a 300km/ph collision course with Zuma
rock.
I needed
something to calm me down, to make me laugh and like the Papa Ajasco jingle
always tells us ‘Laugh till you forget your name’. What I didn’t bargain for
was the madness I was about to get.
My phone
rang. I looked at the caller ID; it was Ekene* (Name changed to protect the
individual’s identity’
‘Chi how now?’ He had
asked.
‘I dey’ I replied; that was always my default response
to the ‘how now’ question.
‘Abeg you fit come meet me for Finicky?’
‘Ekene’ I sighed tiredly (I really was tired) ‘I get
work’
‘Abeg just come abeg. You no go stay long, just
30 minutes and you go back. I promise’
I sighed
again. There was no shaking Ekene off. He had this tenacity which could always
wear someone down to submission and I didn’t have the mental wherewithal to go
back and forth with him.
‘Okay I dey come’
I could
sense him smile in relief.
‘Thank you’
I grabbed
my bag, told the staff that I’d be back in a jiffy and then headed out to hear
whatever brain-wave Ekene had.
Ekene is a
producer/director. In his head, he believes he’s the biggest thing to come out
of Nollywood. In my reality, he’s just an Asaba champion. I wouldn’t have met
or known him if some silly production assistant hadn't given out my number without
first informing me and from then on, it’s been one grandiose film idea or the
other. The way Ekene dreams would make Joseph really jealous.
I finally
got to Finicky to see him waiting with a female who looked like she did some
overtime on Tura cream and carried herself with an attitude the size of Texas.
Ekene grinned at me as I sat down.
I had the manners to greet, she lacked the manners to
respond.
Strike 1
‘Thank you for coming’ Ekene said to me.
I had no
time for niceties or idle chatter.
‘What’s up?’
I asked
And then
the craziness began.
Apparently,
the lady is a ‘producer’ who wants to shoot a film about a certain man’s rise
from humble beginnings to becoming a powerful
man in government. I listened intently as Ekene painted this grand ‘24’meets
‘West Wing’ story. When he finished, he turned to me.
‘So how much to write it’
‘Ekene you know how much I charge’ I responded tiredly. I had told him countless times my rates for writing a screenplay.
‘How much na?’
I told
them. And that was when the female realized that she could actually speak.
´Ah! That is a lot na’
‘That’s how much I charge’
Ekene steps
in and tries to use his ‘you-know-me-and-I-know-you’ card.
‘Chi abeg come down. At least for me’
‘How much are you budgeting?’
’50 thousand’ the female chirps in.
I couldn’t
believe my ears.
´Excuse me?’
Then she
tries to be funny.
´What? Are you too big for 50 thousand?’ she asked with a smug look on her
face.
Strike 2
At this
point, I was already cursing Ekene in my mind for dragging me here for such
rubbish. I took a deep breath and said as calmly as I could.
‘If you want a script of my amount, you’d get
it, if you want a 50 thousand naira script, you will still get it. Even 20
thousand naira scripts are possible’
The female
turns to Ekene who shrugs helplessly and then she turns back to me.
´How many
parts will the script be?’ she asks in her thick ‘Made in Aba’ accent.
I wasn’t
sure I understood the question.
´Parts?’
‘Yes. Will it be part 1 to 3?’
‘I don’t know but I don’t think the film will
be THAT long’
She shakes
her head in vehement rejection.
‘Ah no o! It has to be o! for that amount? When
there’s somebody I pay 100 thousand to write part 1 to 7 for me? What will you
write then?’
Strike 3
That’s it! I
had had it with ‘talking Tura cream’. I stood up, grabbed my bag.
‘Chi wait na’ Ekene pleaded as he tried to stop me.
‘Abeg I’m busy. Later’ I muttered and left the place.
As I walked
out, I couldn't help but think of the absurdity of what went on back
there. She actually wanted a ‘Spielberg-like’
script but wasn't willing to pay for a script its worth. To think of all the
time and money I was going to spend on research only to be paid a measly amount?
This job certainly wasn't worth it. And to think that Ekene dragged me out for this rubbish.
I looked at
my watch: 3:25. I had only spent twenty five minutes back there.
At least Ekene kept his word.
