Showing posts with label Nigeria. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nigeria. Show all posts

Wednesday, 20 March 2013

INTERVIEW: TOLULOPE POPOOLA


DWN: Tell me a bit about yourself

TP: I was born in the 80s, the first of three children.  I grew up in Lagos,
Nigeria in a household where I was surrounded by books from an early age. As
a child, I was a real bookworm; the introvert who preferred staying at home
reading to going out and partying. I left Nigeria for the UK in 2000 for my
university education. I studied Accounting and Business Economics for my
first degree, and after a year in the workplace, I went on to gain a Masters
in Finance and Investment. I started working in accounting jobs, while
studying for my professional accounting exams. In between all those trips to
the library to study at university, I met my husband and we got married in
2005. I switched careers in 2008 to become a writer.

DWN: Your sojourn into writing, could you tell me about that and how it has
been so far? 

TP: Writing was always something that interested me since I was six years old. I
grew up around books and I enjoyed reading a lot. I remember writing my own
versions of the fairy tale stories I'd read. 

When I became a teenager, I
wrote pages and pages in my diaries regularly. I found writing therapeutic;
it helped me to get things off my chest and sort through my private
thoughts. 
However, it was never something I had considered as a career at
the time. 

When I graduated from university, I was all about getting the
'professional' job - you know the one where you have to wear a suit, work in
a 9 to 5 office job, and get paid every month. I just assumed that work is
something you have to do to make money and nothing else. 

In 2006, I came
across a few Nigerian blogs when I was searching for some information
online. I was immediately attracted to the idea of writing an online
journal, so I started my own blog. I enjoyed writing, commenting, meeting
people and joining a wonderful community of supportive bloggers. Before
long, I started looking forward to coming home after a long day at work and
unwinding by writing on my blog. One day, I wrote a short story and posted
it on my blog and it attracted positive comments from readers. I was
surprised and pleased that people thought I could write fiction and they
enjoyed my stories. So, I started writing some more. The more I wrote, the
more I realised I enjoyed it and I wanted to continue doing it. So I signed
up for a few writing classes, and started writing short stories. With time,
I knew that I should give up accounting to become a writer.

DWN: What are your influences as a writer? What influences your writing?

TP: I'm influenced by many things. For example, the books I read, movies I
watch, conversations I hear, music I listen to, etc. Anything can give me an
idea for a story or a character.

DWN: What do you do when you aren't writing?

TP: I'm reading, sleeping, looking after my family, listening to music, hanging
out with friends or working on my other interests.

DWN: Do you ever experience writer's block? 

TP: I do experience periods of writer's block. When that happens, I read other
books, listen to music and jot ideas in my notepad for later.

DWN: Which do you prefer, writing with a typewriter, computer,
cell phone or old fashioned pen and paper?

TP: Nowadays, I do most of my writing on my laptop. I still carry around my
notebook for those days that I'm out and I want to quickly write down
something before I forget.

DWN: Let's go back in time; did you see yourself becoming a writer as a child?

TP: No I certainly didn't. When I was growing up, reading and writing were my
hobbies, but I never thought I could write for a living. I didn't know
anybody who was a full-time writer and it wasn't one of the options we were
given in secondary school. I ended up doing commercial subjects and choosing
to study Economics and Accounting at university. 

DWN: You have a new book 'Nothing Comes Close', could you tell me a little
about the book?

TP: Nothing Comes Close is the story of two characters, Lola and Wole, and how
their relationship developed in spite of the challenges they had to face.
It's a story of love, friendship, betrayal, secrets, honesty, regrets and,
hopefully, a happy ending. 

Lola is a confident career girl. She is feisty
and intelligent; she has her flaws, but she knows what she wants and she
stands for what she believes in. She often sees things in black and white,
and she is not afraid to speak her mind. Wole is mysterious and
unpredictable, but he's also loyal and he's got a sense of duty and justice.
Together, they make for a very interesting couple.

DWN: What were the challenges you encountered whilst writing and publishing
the book?

TP: Writing the novel was a huge learning experience. I'm a new writer so I
still have a lot to learn. The main challenge was the process of going
through several drafts and rewrites, but it was necessary to make the prose
better.

DWN: Which character(s) from your book can you relate with the most?

TP: I'll go with Lola. I like her no-nonsense attitude. She's not afraid to say
what's on her mind, but she's also got a vulnerable side. I also like the
fact that she found the courage to follow her heart towards the end of the
book.

DWN: Was there any particular research you had to conduct regarding the
characters?

TP: To construct Wole's background, I had to do a bit of research into a period
in Nigeria's history. 

DWN: For you, what goes into naming the characters in your book?

TP: I wanted to choose names that my target reader would be familiar with, so I
chose mostly Nigerian names.

DWN: Why did you choose 'Nothing Comes Close' as your book's title?

TP: The title comes from something Wole said. He was admitting that nothing
comes close to having the love of the lady in his life. It is significant
because he regretted letting that love get away from him.

DWN: Are there any characters in your book that are similar in character to
you? 

TP: No, they are not similar to me, but I would love having a friend like Lola.

DWN: What is your opinion of the current crop of Nigerian authors?

TP: There are many brave new authors finding their voice, honing their craft and
publishing their work. And that's a good thing.

DWN: Most Nigerians grew up reading about foreign (non-African) characters,
did you? If yes, how do you marry that with having to write about purely
Nigerian characters?

TP: I grew up reading lots of different books; fortunately, I read a mix of
foreign and African books. I enjoyed both, some allowed me to escape and
imagine different people, while some allowed me to see my own reality in
fiction. It wasn't difficult for me to portray Nigerian characters, since I
started writing on my blog and I knew my audience could relate to my
stories.

DWN: Is 'Nothing Comes Close' your first publication?

TP: I previously published part of a series with seven other writers, but
Nothing Comes Close is my first full length novel.

DWN: What was your experience getting publishers for your book?

TP: From my experience, I knew there were not many publishers willing to take a
chance on new writers like me. I had met a few publishers who found my work
interesting, but they always said that it wasn't commercially viable because
it was regarded as 'ethnic fiction'. 

But, I believe that I have to tell my
stories and there are readers who want to read about people like them in
books. So, I did a lot of research and decided to take the chance and become
a publisher myself. It seemed like a good idea to try and be proactive about
getting my work out there, instead of waiting endlessly for whenever a
publisher would notice me.

DWN: Why is your book 'Nothing Comes Close' relevant in this day and age?

TP: I was having a conversation with a lady one day and she said that while she
enjoys reading books published by African writers, she was fed up of reading
about wars, poverty, rapes, murder and so on. 

She wanted African stories
that were not about some bigger agenda. And I agreed with her. I think we
need more stories that the average African can relate to, stories that focus
more on the human beings and not on some perception of how people want to
view Africans.

DWN: Do you see yourself as a 'genre specific' author?

TP: No I don't. I mostly write short stories and flash fiction that don't fit
into any genre. When we started writing the initial In My Dreams It Was
Simpler series, we didn't define it as romance or anything. It was just
fiction. I'm fascinated by people and relationships, so I started writing
Lola and Wole's story because it was what I observed around me. 

I saw people
struggling to make certain decisions when it came to their relationships,
and I tried to capture that in fiction. Relationships are one area of life
that every adult has to deal with - we're either searching for the right
person to be with, or trying to make the best of our current status.

DWN: Does your book fall into any particular genre?

TP: I suppose it would fall under the category of "women's fiction" which
includes chick-lit and romance. But there's a bit of mystery and thriller
elements in it as well, so it doesn't fit neatly into one box.

DWN: Love is one of the major themes in your book, are you a hopeless
romantic?

TP: I like romance and I want good relationships to have happy endings. Does
that make me a hopeless romantic?

DWN: What is the greatest lesson in love you have ever learnt?

TP: Love is more than butterflies in your tummy and going weak at the knees.
Love is like a precious garden. It has to be worked on, cared for and
protected so that it grows more beautiful over time.

DWN: What was the last book you read?

TP: I've just finished reading The Rice Mother by Rani Manicka

DWN: Who are your favourite authors and what books have spoken to you most?

TP: Different books have spoken to me at different times in my life, including:
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, On Black Sister's Street by Chika Unigwe,
The Help by Kathrny Stockett, Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Adichie,
and The Life of Pi by Yann Martel. 

DWN: If you could go back in time is there anything about your book and the
publishing process that you would like to change?

TP: Not really. I just wish I knew beforehand that I would need lots of patience
to deal with the slow process of writing, editing and publishing.

DWN: With regards to your writing, what has been the best decision you have
made this far? The worst?

TP: Best decision was to leave Accounting and embark on this writing journey.
Worst decision? Trying to publish something before I was really ready.

DWN: Do you have any projects you are currently working on? What is next for
you as a writer?

TP: I'm working on my next book, and also a collection of flash fiction.

DWN: What are your words of advice for budding writers?

TP: Read, read and read. Read many books in the genre you're interested in so
they can give you ideas of what to do and what to avoid. Also read outside
of your chosen genres. Then start writing your story and don't stop give up
if it seems difficult. You can only get better by practicing often.

Thank you :)





------------------------------------------------

Tolulope Popoola was born in Lagos, Nigeria. She moved to England for her university education where she studied BA Accounting and Business Economics and a Masters in Finance and Investment. She started blogging in 2006, which rekindled her love for writing and telling stories. A few writing classes and an online fiction series soon followed and Tolulope quit her Accounting career to write full-time. She now writes short stories, flash fiction, and articles for many print and online magazines. Nothing Comes Close is her first novel. Tolulope lives in London with her husband and daughter.


You can interact with Tolulope online via:

Blog:
www.onwritingandlife.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/TolulopePopoola

Twitter: www.twitter.com/TolulopePopoola

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/TolulopePopoola

LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/tolulopepopoola

Where to buy the ebook:
Kindle US, Kindle UK, Kindle Europe (Germany, France, Italy, Spain)

Kobo , Apple iStore , Sony Reader store , WH Smith , Smashwords,

To buy the paperback
Amazon US , Amazon UK, Waterstones, Barnes and Noble, BOOKS etc. , Book Depository, Foyles , Blackwells




Tuesday, 19 March 2013

BOOK REVIEW: 'NOTHING COMES CLOSE' by Tolulope Popoola

Nothing comes close is a tale of tumultous romance. A romance between two characters Wole and Lola.

Tolulope Popoola delves into issues bordering on love, forgiveness, friendship with a dash of secrets and good intentions gone horribly wrong.

Lola and Wole partake in a feast of new found love and get caught up in a whirlwind romance.

Admist this whirlwind, the grim reaper rears its ugly head, upheaving secrets which have been long forgotten.

The crux of the matter then becomes the survival or death of Wole and Lola's fairytale romance.

Lola's ability to love continually, bend over backwards and care for her friends as well as preserve all relationships in her life is shown throughout the novel. This ability is tried and tested by the man she falls in love with, her family and her friends.

Lola shows self doubt at pivotal points in the novel. But her self doubt cascades into confidence on the wings of her caring and loving heart as the story unfolds.

Set in the UK, Tolulope Popoola weaves a tale made of fine rafia that is the manner in which the lives of Lola and Wole intertwine.

With friends like Temmy, Titi, Funmi and Maureen, Lola's relationship with Wole becomes even more complicated as different opinions arise concerning the issues that face their romance.
These friends make for a good read as the drama in their lives act as some sort of support system for Lola.

Wole is a man who is a bit rough around the edges. He has had a taste of both sides of life. He is a man whose past still haunts him, he walks around the 24 chapters of the novel attached to a ball and chain. Wole is definately not a 'fluffy' man but Lola is able to bring him to a place where he becomes more in touch with his emotions.

We are taken back in time thanks to Woles dark past. In the deep recesses of Woles mind, there lies a battle which is embedded in rich Nigerian history. Will his past catch up his present and ruin his future? Will this spell doom for his fairytale?

Popoola potrays young Nigerians in diaspora in a different light in her novel. She tells a tell of unending forgiveness as against those of the woes of the African continent that abound in the African authours category.
A tale of young ambitious men and women who are highly educated and yes, express a myriad of emotions without any form of reserve.

In nothing comes close we are made privy to the newage friendships between Nigerians of different tribes.

It is good to see several '-isms' which are purely Nigerian throughout the dialougue of the characters in the book.

The novel is presented from the vantage point of Wole and Lola. Each chapter is from the perspective of a particular character. But the way the novelist goes about it does not go deep enough to show the peculiarities of each character. This would have let one in a lot more on the character's thoughts and opinions regarding the unfolding tale.

The novel is a rollercoster ride in 193 pages. On the whole, it would have been fantastic to have deeper foundations for the characters in the book as that would have made relating to them even better.

Some of the characters came across as a bit watery and the main characters Wole and Lola are not excluded from this.

The novel allows one to see how strangers become lovers and how truly, Nothing comes close.

------------------------------------------------


Tolulope Popoola was born in Lagos, Nigeria. She moved to England for her university education where she studied BA Accounting and Business Economics and a Masters in Finance and Investment. She started blogging in 2006, which rekindled her love for writing and telling stories. A few writing classes and an online fiction series soon followed and Tolulope quit her Accounting career to write full-time. She now writes short stories, flash fiction, and articles for many print and online magazines. Nothing Comes Close is her first novel. Tolulope lives in London with her husband and daughter.


You can interact with Tolulope online via:

Blog:
www.onwritingandlife.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/TolulopePopoola

Twitter: www.twitter.com/TolulopePopoola

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/TolulopePopoola

LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/tolulopepopoola

Where to buy the ebook:
Kindle US, Kindle UK, Kindle Europe (Germany, France, Italy, Spain)
Kobo , Apple iStore , Sony Reader store , WH Smith , Smashwords,

To buy the paperback
Amazon US , Amazon UK, Waterstones, Barnes and Noble, BOOKS etc. , Book Depository, Foyles , Blackwells



Tuesday, 26 February 2013

Kill Them

I was a witch.

I could feel my fangs growing. My fangs were ready to dig into anyone who dared to cross me.

My broomstick stood proudly by my side.

Wait.

Was I the obodo oyinbo witch with a broom and wand or was I just an 'Iya oshoronga' of Nigerian origins?

Even us witches have identity crises. *sigh*

Alright, so I was a Nigerian witch. Bad teeth, bad hair, horrible smelly clothes and of course lots of one thousand naira bills in my purse.

There I stood at the bus stop. I could have just flown to church that sunday oh.

"Thank you global warming..." I muttered to myself.

It had began to shower, the feather weight droplets of aqua quickly morphed into heavy painful beads of rain.

Not again.

Stuck at a bus stop, no means of transportation in sight.

The doom of racoon eyes was impending as I tryed to remember if the mascara I had used was water proof or not.

Never had I been so happy to see a 'keke napep', I almost did the harlem shake.

The princess got into her chariot lol, sorry the witch got into her chariot rather.

"Wetin?!! I nor get change oh..."

This keke napep driver was not going to start this with me this early morning.

No he was not.

He made me look like a witch out to suck his blood.

I was paying for a fifty naira trip with a one thousand naira note. To him, I must have been a witch.

"I nor get change!!"

I had told him before getting into his vehicle that all I had was one thousands.

I was just recovering from the nuclear bomb that was my atm account balance. I almost went into a coma when I saw it ( story for another day lol)

"Thats how you women do, expect me to be looking for change...!!!"

He was yelling now.

Rummaging through my bag I hoped to find change to make this troll shut up.

I did not find any.

Shoving the money in my hand he kept yelling.

If I turned him into a sad looking tuber of yam or a fake rolex watch you would call me wicked abi??

I paused for a moment, took a long hard look at him.

"Oga, you for cool down. Today na sunday. You for cool temper..." I said smiling as I motioned the 'cool temper' gesture placing my palm on my chest.

He was shocked.

He looked embarrassed.

His face fell.

I walked off. (like a boss)

I was not going to let him get to me.

Nope.

Was it easy?

Well it was easier than getting into a shouting match with a keke napep driver by the roadside.

*honk! Honk!! Honk!!!!*

A keke napep drove up to my side.

It was the same man.

Oh Lord, what now??

"Sister, abeg nor vex. Please dont be angry. Nor be my fault say I just dey shira for you. Abeg nor vex. Happy sunday ehn..."

I laughed.

"Happy sunday too"

Kill them with love.

It is often very difficult to do this. There are so many things that get in the way.

Things such as our pride as well as the enormous amount of crap people around us get up to. And of course there is the little witch or wizard that lurks around in the corners of our minds wanting to draw blood and turn people into yams, cockroaches, shower caps and pots of jollof rice.

But would you rather be dragged into their horse crap and be humiliated by your own lack of self control?

Kill them with love when they make you angry, when they make you want to rip their heads off.

Kill them with love because its really all you have that you can ever genuinely give.

Kill them with love not for what you can gain from them but for who love makes you.

Kill them with love because as cliché as it sounds, love is that which can melt any heart. It is that which can transform.

Kill them.

Monday, 21 January 2013

Photocopies

There I was in the dark.

My eyes widened in unfamiliar darkness. I heard children running around somewhere upstairs.

I ran.

I ran up the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me.

I ran into a strangers house.

I had never been inside one before. By the time I had realised where I was to take the scenery in I had began feeling faint.

I was in a 'face-me-I-face-you'. It looked like it.

Walls blackened from years of stories untold.

"Have you peepo close the door?" She shouted

I didn't respond. I couldn't. I was a mute.

Through the spaces in the walls of the brick stair case, we stared into the street.

A woman in the house went downstairs to lock the door. She struggled with the simple hook at the back of the door

"As if that would provide any form security..." I muttered under my breath.

She came up the stairs and looked at us as she ascended.
"Ejo e ma binu ma..." I said to her in the most genuine yoruba accent I could come up with.
"Ah binu ke? Dont worry, what are we here for if not to help each other."

I did not know her from Adam.

This stranger had offered a lady and I her stairwell as a hideaway.

Was I still in Lagos?

I looked on through the spaces in the brick wall. I saw the streets, they were empty.

The police, civillians, touts, all gone.

How did I get into a face-me-I-face-you in the dark with a total stranger??

The man was suddenly running in my direction when he fell. I thought nothing of it.
I thought nothing of it until he twitched on the ground and a violet-red substance oozed from his body unto the brown earth.

Somebody shot him.

The policeman shot him.

The police was everywhere. Here, there, everywhere. They weilded there guns. Guns with necks as long as those of girraffees.

You see, I knew those were guns. I never realised they actually made use of them. I knew those weapons were not for fancy. But I just never thought I would see its use first hand.

Quiet had returned to the street. The woman who ran into the strangers house with me began crying.

"My pikin oh... she dey road. she just dey come back from school. I'm calling her now her phone number is not available. Chaaaii"

I wondered if her daughter was the second person I heard had been shot. I could just imagine her laying on the ground, school uniform stained. Or was she somewhere hiding just as we were?

I was back to being mute. I could not utter a simple statement to console her.

She asked me where I was headed when the riot broke out. I was still mute.

She must have thought I was rude.
I just could not find words, a first in my life.

All I wanted were photocopies.

As I beheld the man twitching on the ground, there was no thought in my head. None whatsoever.

Now that I think about it no one told me to make my next move.

I ran.

I ran so fast I could feel my heart thumping against my rib cage. There I was with all the important documents I had acquired in my little life. And I was just running.

I didnt care about where I was running towards, whether it was towards greater danger, I had no idea.

It was in the home of that stranger that I realised I still had my documents intact.
Minutes later I remebered why I had left my house. The photocopies.

I sited a small storey building during my survey of the street.

'MAKE YOUR COPIES HIA'

Do I bolt out into the adjacent house?

Guess what?

I thanked one of tenants of the face-me-I-face-you. Unbolted the door, shut my eyes and ran as the crow flies across the street.

Stupid.

But I had to get those copies made.
It was a small room. If I could imagine a prison cell, that was exactly what this looked like. But this cell had about 6 old school computers crammed in it with a copy machine.

A copy machine!

It was hot. It was hot and it smelled.

The room was filled with relatively young men all typing away. Rather copying and pasting the same messages to God knows who on the other side of the globe.

Waiting to get my copies done, I realised if the EFCC walked in there I was dead meat.

I was in the midst of 'yahoo boys'

I was right there with a folder in my hands, wearing pyjama bottoms and an old t-shirt. I fit right in. LOL

No cell phone to even call home with. LoL

Naaaahhhh. Two horrible things couldn't happen to me in one day.

I was finally done. Still stunned, I paid and did not even wait for my change.

I still do not know how I got home.

Back in my bed, pyjamas still on. I mulled over all that had happened in the 'safety' of my house.

I wondered who the man was. I remember seeing his eyes roll back as he bled to the ground. What did he see as he passed away?

Did his life flash before his eyes? Did he live to see me running for the hills?

Would I have opened my doors to total strangers? Strangers who were runing at top speed?

I doubt it.

All I remeber was that my concern was getting home with my photocopies made. Was that sheer madness or determination?

I mean I had one of the greatest deals of my life the next day to prepare for.
Cut me some slack.

Hold on.

Aren't the Nigerian police supposed to protect me? Why were they firing into the crowd towards me?

Why did I perceive this air of normalcy despite the chaotic circumstances? Could it be that people had become used to this kind of irrationality from the Nigerian police?

All I wanted were some damn photocopies.

Today, I realised that admist chaos there is still so much to be grateful for.

There are kind people out there. They live in the most unlikely places that we may look down on.

One never knows who HE would send to be our guardian angel.

On my way out tomorrow I would probably pass by that face-me-I-face-you. I doubt I would even remember what street it was in talk less of the particular house.

But tonight I will pray for that woman and her family. I will pray for the man who passed away. I will aslo pray for the lady who was looking for her child. The yahoo boys, the nigerian police, I will pray for them. For this country I will also pray.

I will pray that my children would not have to see what I saw today.

I will pray that they will not inherit the knowledge that the government and politicians of their fatherland don't give a shit about their lives.

That stray bullet could have hit me.

But it did not.

So I will do the only thing I know how.

Pray.


'DWN