Welcome to Olokunbola's Blog |
- Photo: HIV+ Woman Arrested For Breastfeeding Neighbour's Baby
- You're Degrading Womanhood-Lagos Deputy Governor Fires Iyanya’s Dancers
- Photo: Ex-BBA Housemate Barbz Shows Off Her Boobs @ Lagos Party
- The Feds are reportedly asking questions about Diddy 'having sexual relations with underage boys'
- UK to pay 1million pounds to transfer 534 Nigerian prisoners home
- Aviation officials claim $1.6m ministerial car scandal is “all rumours”
- Not again! Lao Airlines plane crashes into river, killing 49
- Afam: About to Get Hitched? Here Are 8 Things To Consider Before You Walk Down the Aisle
- Don’t Manage Him, Manage You
- She's Happy! Actress Steph-Nora Okere stuns in new photos
- BN Prose: The Elevator by Rolayo Williams
| Photo: HIV+ Woman Arrested For Breastfeeding Neighbour's Baby Posted: 16 Oct 2013 11:04 AM PDT  According to her, the neighbour snatched the child while she was playing outside and hid her in her room. But after searching for the child for quite some time, she went and knocked on Annie's rented room and got no response. Upon peeping through the window, she saw her breastfeeding the little girl. I was shocked. I nearly fainted," she said, adding that her breasts were leaking milk yet she was not a nursing mother or pregnant.  | ||
| You're Degrading Womanhood-Lagos Deputy Governor Fires Iyanya’s Dancers Posted: 16 Oct 2013 11:02 AM PDT  It was a beautiful performance from the sensational artiste, Iyanya and his dancers but the end really justified the means when the Lagos State Deputy Governor, Orelope Adefulire fired iyanya's female dancers. Read their conversation and see the photos below: Deputy Governor: I guess you are professional dancers? Iyanya's Dancers: Yes ma! Deputy Governor: If you must entertain without pants on, certainly not in a gathering like this. Just see how you are disgracing and degrading womanhood. Don't try it again. Iyanya's Dancers: Yes ma! It's not just Iyanya's dancers that engage in this kind of indecent costumes but i hope this will serve as a warning to others.     | ||
| Photo: Ex-BBA Housemate Barbz Shows Off Her Boobs @ Lagos Party Posted: 16 Oct 2013 10:59 AM PDT   | ||
| The Feds are reportedly asking questions about Diddy 'having sexual relations with underage boys' Posted: 16 Oct 2013 11:01 AM PDT   During a debriefing session with federal investigators, James Rosemond, the music manager-turned-cocaine kingpin, was reportedly questioned about the sexual preferences of entertainers, including whether Sean "Diddy" Combs was "having sexual relationships with under age boys," according to a U.S. District Court filing. In his September 6 affidavit, Rosemond (seen at above right) contended that he reluctantly agreed to the proffer sessions arranged by Gerald Shargel, his former lawyer. Rosemond added that investigators sought to get him to confess to crimes for which he had no involvement. "When the defendant said he didn't know about a certain event…they accused him of lying," Rosemond claimed.The confrontational sessions turned "awkward," Rosemond stated, when an investigator showed him "naked pictures" of different women. The purpose of this purported investigative technique is not revealed in Rosemond's affidavit. A prosecutor, Rosemond continued, then "asked about entertainers sexual preferences, including, but not only, Sean Combs having sexual relationships with under age boys." Again, Rosemond provided no context for these alleged queries. Rosemond was also quizzed during an October 4 session about his contacts with several public figures, including, Rev. Al Sharpton, and musician Wyclef Jean. During Rosemond's trial, Shargel complained to Judge John Gleeson that federal prosecutors and agents were only seeking "trophies" when they questioned Rosemond about celebrities during the proffer sessions. And, when Rosemond provided nothing of substance on the high-profile figures, "disappointed" investigators rejected his client's bid for a cooperation deal. Prosecutors countered Shargel's claim, declaring that Rosemond was untrustworthy and lied during the debriefing sessions. Investigators eventually declined to cut a deal with Rosemond, who was subsequently convicted at trial of running a drug ring that sold millions of dollars's worth of cocaine. Rosemond, who is nicknamed "Jimmy Henchman," faces a mandatory term of life in prison when sentenced October 25 in Brooklyn federal court.  | ||
| UK to pay 1million pounds to transfer 534 Nigerian prisoners home Posted: 16 Oct 2013 10:28 AM PDT   Talks are continuing into reaching a compulsory prisoner transfer agreement, which could see more than half of the 500 criminals from Nigeria currently in UK jails repatriated. Prisons minister Jeremy Wright told MailOnline how 'more foreign prisoners must serve their sentences in their own countries'. Ministers have been ordered to step up efforts to end the scandal of more than one in eight prisoners being from overseas. David Cameron vowed to end the practice of the British taxpayer picking up the bill for criminals with no business in the UK.Doubt if Nigerian prisoners would want to come serve the rest of their terms in Kirikiri. Continue.. UK Prime Minister said in 2010 that he would 'personally intervene' to send more foreign criminals home.  | ||
| Aviation officials claim $1.6m ministerial car scandal is “all rumours” Posted: 16 Oct 2013 10:24 AM PDT   Aviation spokesman, Yakubu Datti, told Premium Times "I don't respond to rumours…and as we approach 2015, people are bound to make up all sorts of stories. This is a woman (Mrs. Oduah) who is successful and established. A woman that made her mark in oil and gas, who owned trucks, barges, and so on. What is two cars?"  | ||
| Not again! Lao Airlines plane crashes into river, killing 49 Posted: 16 Oct 2013 10:30 AM PDT  State-owned Lao Airlines issued a statement saying the small plane ran into "extreme bad weather conditions" and crashed at 4:00pm (local time).
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| Afam: About to Get Hitched? Here Are 8 Things To Consider Before You Walk Down the Aisle Posted: 15 Oct 2013 12:20 PM PDT  I haven't been back in Nigeria for any length of time that can be thought of as long, or at least I do not think of 79 days as long, especially when I've got 365 more to go. Best believe that I will be hopping on the Masters train out of here. In Nigeria, there is suffering, so much suffering, can you imagine that my father set me a curfew the other day? He declared, "You must be home by 9pm every night from now on because it's so unsafe." I very nearly died. My body only becomes active at 9pm. Even after an 8am – 8pm day, if you call me at 9pm and tell me where the party is at, I'll be there. So at the end of the year, I shall spirit myself away to enjoy at least one more year of unchaperoned jollification. Anyway, in the short time I've been back I've become attuned to the wedding every weekend, divorce every other other weekend life that we live here. I've also heard about the troubles that several endure in their marriages, so I've written a little bit of a guide about the things that you should be thinking about before you get married. How are you going to live? You'll need to know what your lifestyle will be before you tie your fortunes with your man. Some men expect their wives to go from bankers, lawyers, journalists, and PR mavens to being glorified house girls, cooks, and eventual nannies, the moment they return from honeymooning in the Seychelles. But you don't really want to do this do you? You quite enjoy earning that paltry salary because it allows you some measure of independence. Don't worry, I have a solution for you. They say every woman has her price. If your hubby wants you to quit your job, to cater to his every need, then present him with your price. Present him with the value you place on your independence and the meaningful use of your Bachelors, Masters and Doctorate degrees. If he doesn't grimace and cry out in his mother tongue (Ye pa mi O if he's a Yoruba man) when he looks at it, then you're under valuing yourself. After that, he won't discuss your job again. Also, he cannot expect you to be making that pilgrimage from the mainland to the island every day. As a newly married woman, your colleagues will be expecting you to be a glowing and blushing mini sun of happiness. This is simply impossible when you have to wake up at four in the morning to avoid the worst of the traffic. He must tell you of his plans to relocate you to a mini palace on the island before you get married. You should be marrying a mover and shaker, a rising star, a man with potential, not some lazy bum who's perfectly content with where he is especially when he hasn't got anywhere. Is he gay? Oh my God! How dare I suggest that your significant other, the man of your dreams, the frog to your princess, and the cream cheese icing to your red velvet cake might be gay? Well, that's because he very well might be and if he is, he will probably have a few man lovers on the side. Before you get hitched you need to find out for sure that he isn't gay because if he is, chances are, you'll be artificially inseminating your way towards your first pregnancy, or you'll have to make like the wives of the impotent Baba Segi, and find other willing sperm donors. If he is bisexual or bicurious, then make sure you know about it too lest you employ one damn foine driver or gardener only to find him rolling in the sheets of your marital bed with your dearly beloved. I can't tell you how to find out if your man gets down on the down low, but you may want to consider setting him up with one of your gay friends for research purposes. Are you gay? As far as I know, most men want to get married to people that are genuinely interested in them. If you are gay, then don't involve someone else in your attempt to live a lie. Or better yet, don't live a lie, get with women in the shadows. If no one knows about it then what harm can it do? I wouldn't wish the fourteen year jail penalty on anyone. Furthermore, a single lesbian is infinitely better than a married adulterous lesbian. However all of this may be ignored if your intended knows about it, and thinks it's hot. If he does, then why not? Why do you want to get married?
What are you wearing? As young girls you should have been gathering research materials (magazine cut outs, photographs, etc.) in preparation for the legendary moment, when you appear at the foot of the aisle and perhaps for the first time in your life, all eyes are on you. You want them to gasp in awe of your beauty and your form. You want your rubbish ex-boyfriend on the fifth row to see you and die! You don't want him to be green with envy, you want him to spontaneously combust for treating you so poorly. Your wedding dress isn't just a dress. It's a right of passage, an heirloom. Your daughter is meant to look at photographs of you and think, "I want to look just like that one day." If your dress is great enough, she'll want to wear it when she gets married, so it's up to you to create or purchase a masterpiece. You must know if your body is pear shaped, apple shaped, or hourglass shaped, so that you can get the dress that best suits your figure. And you must know if you want to look, virginal, slutty or coy beforehand. Don't walk into Vera Wang or Clan and say, "I want it to look nice." They'll look at you like you're an idiot! You have to know exactly what you want! If your fiance has strong opinions about the technicalities of your dress, see point 2. Where are you going to get married? No one really cares about the venue, I don't think. They'll indulge you because it's your day. In as much as you want it to be so beautiful that a rainbow springs from the altar, and rose petals, glitter, and hearts rain down from the ceiling, please consider your guests. Pick a location with decent parking. No one wants to park on the express way or spend a whole hour in traffic trying to leave your wedding. While we're on the subject of the venue, I'll comment a little on the interior design. Do not put a sex couch in your wedding! It has no place there! What do I mean by a sex couch?  That! It's even got mood lighting! It's completely unsuited for sitting. DON'T DO IT. What role are you going to assign your fiance? The comments on my last article taught me a few things. One of these things is that most men like to feel like they're needed. Because of this your husband to be will not be impressed if you become a monstrous dominatrix and controlling witch in order to make the wedding of your dreams a reality. Give him a few mundane tasks that he can't possibly screw up, so that he doesn't feel like a useless appendage. At the very least give him something to distract him from the fact that you've become the living incarnation of the Dark Knight. If this seems foreign to you then see point three. Most men expect to wear the pants in the relationship. If you insist on wearing the pants, people might start asking questions. This list isn't at all exhaustive. I haven't covered what flowers you should carry (flowers have meanings. Heaven forbid that you put red carnations in your wedding bouquet because those mean, {alas for my poor heart, and that's always and everywhere} a bad omen. If you're thinking of whether or not you should go through with it if he hits you (the answer to that one is always and everywhere no, the last time he hits you will never be the last time he hits you, and no amount of money could ever make up for the amount of physical and emotional pain that being battered causes. Plus, if you come out of it alive, chances are that you'll be mentally ill, and that's no picnic. You'll have to get a therapist, a personal trainer and a team of girl friends that'll tell you how awesome you are because you'll have no self confidence and no self esteem. Or what your in-laws are like (if your man is a mummy's boy, with a pervert for a father, then you might want to reconsider. Sex jokes from your father in-law will never be funny, and waking up to find your mother in law in your kitchen making breakfast for your grown husband will never be cute). There are probably a hundred other things to think about before you jump the broom haven't been included doesn't mean that they are any less important. But then again I suppose I could always write a sequel. Tata for now (ttfn) Photo Credit: depositphotos.com _______________________________________________________________________________________________ Afam is the 23 year old man-child behind the blog: http://theramblingsofamadman-afam.com. He's only just registered for NYSC. He hopes to be posted to Lagos, but he really wouldn't mind serving in Zamfara. He likes words, books, and Suya, and he's a little bit of a loose cannon. Follow him on Twitter @Afam20.  | ||
| Posted: 15 Oct 2013 12:17 PM PDT  Bouncing on a high from our anniversary night away, I was recounting the delights our getaway to mum (x rated parts omitted), whilst trying on my outfit for the engagement we would be attending the following evening. I was tying my velvet wrapper, blissfully unaware of my husband's acrobatics that was happening in the spare room behind me. Satisfied with my look, I returned to the spare room and I was in sheer shock. Stood before me was a tower of beautiful organisation; jackets hung wondrously and shirts hooked over the hangers. It was cinematic. The shiny mirrored doors could close freely for the first time in ages. Standing before me was the 8th wonder of the world; an arranged wardrobe. I literally did a happy dance across my living room floor. I tell you why, this is so important. For the longest time I have wondered why on earth my beloved couldn't arrange his wardrobe in a logical manner. I am not an isolated case – just this weekend I spoke to two friends lamenting about their husbands' lack of organisation! There are thousands and dare I say millions of women around the world who are desperately seeking answers, as per why their husbands leave their shoes in the middle of the way, leave dishes unwashed waiting for their wives to come home or the classics – squeeze toothpaste from the wrong end or leave the toilet seat up. Although for me, the number one phenomenon is why the towel is entirely drenched following a shower (answers on a postcard please). It's these little things that can cause 'wahala'; constant nagging from one beloved to another resulting in explosive bombs of Baghdad arguments. Throwing my verbal grenades recently, I began to question what the point of my incessant nagging was. I began to wonder if nagging is a form of control, an attempt to manage my beloved's actions. The wish of most nags is that the naggie conforms to the nags rationale. It is the hope that by constantly repeating the need for the naggie to complete a particular action, the naggie will have an 'ah ha' moment and change. And thus, restoring life to a peaceful state. This rarely works. Usually one of two outcomes are achieved; the nag becomes exhausted with nagging and carries out the task themselves or the naggie becomes irritated with the entire situation and reacts negatively. Constant nagging leaves sour tastes in the mouths of the nagged. You reduce their importance, placing more weight on the task/attitude they are required to complete. The feelings of love are few and far between when nagging is a constant factor. I question if nagging is just a 'female thing' and if it is, why do we do it? Considering the poor conversion rate from nagging to result, why don't we wives just keep quiet? Discussing this with my beloved, I argued that nagging must be built into our DNA. The good book says that we are called to be the helpmates to our husbands. It is this ability to help that I believe makes us natural nags. We have the capability to notice the small things that our beloveds don't. The husband buys the home but it usually takes a woman to remember to purchase curtains. My beloved argued that it's more an inherent lack of contentment rather than inherent nagging; if a man squeezed the toothpaste correctly, put the toilet seat down and did all the things we wished they did, we'd complain that he was a 'yes man'. And if our men become 'yes men', we wouldn't want them. Deep down inside each nag is the desire to control and manage. A nag will never admit this of course, but it's the truth nevertheless. You want to quietly nudge him to pay a certain bill at a certain time and a certain place and a certain frustration kicks in when it's not done. The nag will argue it's because of the good of the family but, isn't also a need to ensure the outcome is as required. We attempt to manage his habits, his emotions, his time – all in a bid to do things better or neater. Sometimes his small habits like misplacing things and expecting you to find them are representative of a deeper issue; a difference in attitude/approach to life. You may have married an extremely laid back person who places lower priority on the things that are more important to you. And if that's the case – it may never change, even if you managed to synchronise your nagging with all the wives in the world Ultimately we need to manage ourselves; our expectations, our time, our environment and our emotions. You can only change yourself. We can manage the home but we cannot manage the man. For many of us newlyweds, our beloveds have been the way they are with the habits they have for more years than we have been married. How then, is it realistic to expect a mans' habits to change, simply because he fell in love with your 'stepford wife wannabe' self. So, you see that pair of socks thrown into the corner of the bedroom instead of being placed inside the laundry basket; you have some choices to make. You can breathe (and perhaps pray) and pick it up or you can work your blood pressure up by discussing the history and function of the laundry basket. I fully understand that it can be highly frustrating and will leave you feeling exasperated. Five years into marriage, I am by no means claiming to be cured of this niggling habit. Believe me, I would probably have to conduct an entire prayer service before picking up that pair of socks particularly if I had just cleaned up. But, I have come to the conclusion that I am Mrs Ruby Suze and not Mrs Manager. I do not need to manage him, I need to manage me. Photo Credit: madamenoire.com ______________________________________________________________________________________ Ruby Suze is a yummy mummy who has been married for 5 years. She is passionate about using her life experiences to help others especially, youth. Follow her blog: Forever Newlywed and on Twitter@cr8tivrubysuze.  | ||
| She's Happy! Actress Steph-Nora Okere stuns in new photos Posted: 15 Oct 2013 12:15 PM PDT | ||
| BN Prose: The Elevator by Rolayo Williams Posted: 15 Oct 2013 12:10 PM PDT  Shalewa dodged the nurse quickly enough to avoid a head-bump. She was late for her practical class because of the stupid stomach upset she'd had all morning. The culprit was last night's Suya and she had arrived at that conclusion by her 5th visit to the loo. Subconsciously rubbing her hand on her belly, she checked the time again. Four floors down wasn't something she was willing to take on in this state, so she decided wait for the elevator. Lucky for her, the arrow showed it was on its way down. **** Jaiye didn't know how to operate these things. He was wondering why he had not just taken the stairs, instead of depending on the elevators. But no one could blame him really. He was exhausted from having to go from third floor to ground floor repeatedly. Especially on an empty stomach. He didn't think he would have made one more flight with the amount of glucose he had left. Thankfully, a young doctor walked in,bringing a lovely atmosphere and scent along with her. He looked up to the ceiling and smiled in gratitude. He just needed one more wish to be granted, she should be heading for the same floor as he was. She clicked on the button that said "4″,and then on one with two arrow heads facing each other. Oh! That's how it was done! He contemplated on asking for help or doing it himself. His timidity got the best of him. He would come out on the 4th floor, and take the stairs to the 3rd. He would save himself the embarrassment. **** 'Why was he standing in that corner?' she wondered. As they approached the 1st floor, the lights went out. Shalewa wasn't sure if it was a power outage or a technical fault,but she really hoped it was the former. There was a high chance that no one even knew there were people in the elevator. She dug through her bag for her phone, she scrolled through her list of contacts trying to figure out who would be able to get the quickest aid. She tried her class rep's number. SOS "Great!" Here she was stuck midway between two floors in an elevator with some guy and no signal on her phone. She might as well be missing. For all she knew, this guy could be a psychiatric patient or a rapist or a serial killer, and she was alone with him. She tried to dispel the thoughts of evil and stay calm. **** He didn't really understand what was going on. All he knew was that the lights were out and the elevator had stopped moving. The young doctor looked a bit frantic and annoyed when she brought out her phone from her bag. "Do you by any chance have a phone?" Her voice startled him. "Yes, I do." He pulled out his old faithful Nokia and gave it to her. "No signal", she read with exasperation. He wasn't sure, but he heard some form of frustration in it too. She handed his phone back to him, and he got a better whiff of her perfume. Fruity and flowery. He inhaled a bit more. "Please what is going on?" Without looking at him, she replied,"Power is out and the lifts are not functioning, so we're stuck here." "For how long?" Biting back the urge to give a really sarcastic she response, she said "I pray it's not for too long, I've missed the first twenty five minutes of my class already." He should have just taken the stairs. He was hungry and famished, and his mother needed the drugs he had gone to buy right now. What if anything happened to her due to his lateness? Was he going to die here? **** They stayed in silence for the next couple of minutes. Each engrossed in thoughts until they were rudely disturbed by the rumble of Jaiye's tummy. He hoped she wouldn't hear the first time, but it was closely followed by a louder one. This had to get the award for his most embarrassing moment. "Take. For your borborygmi." She offered him crackers. He was a bit reluctant to accept but when he thought about how hungry he was and not knowing when he would see his next meal, he took the pack gratefully. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver" She giggled. "Just doing my job". He was confused. "What job?" "It's a joke. Doctors are known to save lives, and you called me a lifesaver. So I said I'm doing my job." "Oh. I get it. Thanks again Doctor…" "Shalewa. I'm not a doctor yet, still in training. And since we're going to be here for God-knows-how-long, we might as well get to know each other." It was his turn to giggle. "I'm Jaiye Adewole." "Nice meeting you Jaiye", she extended her right hand as a form of courtesy. "And while we are introducing ourselves, let me state that this is my first time in an elevator", he chipped in. She was surprised at how firm his grip was. She liked it. "How ironic, right? Your first time in an elevator and you're stuck in it" "Well, I guess it's a cruel twist of fate." "So what's Jaiye doing in UCH? Do you work here or you're visiting?" He could have been a patient but she wasn't going to be so forward about his ailment if he was. He looked a little disturbed by her question, she instantly wished she hadn't asked. "I'm here with my mum. She suffered a heart attack two weeks ago, so I've been running around the corridors of the hospital ever since." "Oh! I'm sorry to hear that. How's she responding to treatment?" "I wish I could say she was getting better, but I really don't know. She looks so pale and weak." Shalewa didn't know how to respond. The right comeback would have been something along the lines of "Don't worry, she'll be fine" or "I'm sure the doctors will do all they can to see that she gets better", but nowadays she wasn't sure of anything anymore. Not since her little sister called to tell her their father had lost his job. It was his fifth one in eight years and he kept getting dismissed for the oddest reasons. They had lost their mum in a car accident seven years ago. Before her death, she had been the sole breadwinner, and regardless of her position, she still showered their dad with all the respect and love any husband would need. Life had been rough since her death. Her mum was carried the burden of keeping their home together, and after her demise, the baton had been passed on to Shalewa. She had to be strong for the sake of her family even though on most days, she felt like she was going to breakdown and run loose on the streets. The family was always in and out of debt, just as one was being cleared up, another stack was piling in some corner. They had gone from having three family cars to pushing one over-used and under-serviced Toyota around. Friends and associates had walked out the door and some even took up new roles as mockers. Her admission into medical school had been a beacon of hope in the darkness for the family. At least, she could be certain of a good job after graduation, and she would help out in training her younger siblings. The state of the country had extended what was supposed to six short years into an infinite period. It had been seven years but she was still in her fourth year. "Do you think she'll make it?" Jaiye's voice brought her back to the enclosed four by five space. "I… I really can't say. I have to read her case note at least" "Ok. But what are her chances?" "Anything can happen. You'll just have to keep your hopes up and co-operate with the doctors. And pray, like her life depends on it because it does." "Don't our lives ALL depend on prayers?" "Well… She needs it more than you do right now." **** Jaiye stared at the young doctor. The darkness was a good thing. It allowed him to admire her without invading her space. He admired her strength and courage even though he knew next to nothing about her. The words that emanated from her petite 5'3 height had struck him deep. He was exhausted from all the stress he had experienced in the last two weeks, and seeing his mother's response to treatment was not encouraging. The doctors kept writing tests after tests and he had to keep moving her for one electrocardiogram test or another chest x-ray. She was slipping away slowly, and there was no one around for him to lean on. His big brothers were all in their various duty posts and the money they sent only paid the bills, it couldn't run the errands. Dr. Shalewa had given him food for thought. He could at least hope and pray for the sake of his mother. **** Hearing her own words out loud made her stop to check herself. Here she was encouraging a total stranger and she couldn't take her own advice. She had lost hope in her family, her father especially. She had forgotten to count her blessings, and be thankful for the things she had- sound mind, clothes on her back, good health to name a few. It had taken a random conversation in the strangest circumstances to put her back on track and remind her of what was really important. **** "Can I play music from my phone while we're waiting?", Jaiye brought her back to the present from her faraway thoughts. "Of course!" Seconds later, the warmth of Michael Buble's voice engulfed their shared space. She was pleasantly surprised at his choice of music. She had expected his choice to be a mix of Nigerian artistes who sang only about girls, money and parties. When Ray LaMontagne's "You are the best thing" came up, she had to voice her thoughts. "Your choice in music is rather impressive" "You think so? A lot of my friends think I'm old school." "Old school is for the young at heart." They laughed together, and talked more about different songs and albums they both preferred. They moved on to books and movies,all the while seating on the elevator floor. She was more of a crime fiction person, while he preferred autobiographies and war films. They clicked and connected like long lost buddies. The lights of the elevator came on suddenly. She checked her watch and discovered they had been in it for over half an hour. Time had passed so swiftly and neither of them noticed. The lecturer would be concluding by now. She glanced across the compartment at her fellow-hostage, he was staring up at the lights with a loop-sided grin. In seconds, the doors of the elevator opened and they were on the fourth floor. "What ward is your mom in? I think I have a couple of minutes to spare." The look on his face said it all. "This way." Photo Credit: theblackertheberry.org  |
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