interesting conversation: a telemarketer calls Mr. Okoro

From Facebook

 

Enjoy this dialogue between a Nigerian man and an American telemarketer.

Ring…..Ring. ..Ring

Mr Okoro : Hello?

Telemarketer: Hi, this is Raheema calling from Hollywood Hereafter Resources. I just wanted to let you know that your phone number was randomly selected in a drawing and we have reserved a free burial space for you at the New Island Cemetry in Bridge-

Mr Okoro: What?!!!

Telemarketer : If you would just give me your name and address. I want to send you a letter to confirm the free burial space we have reserved for you—

Mr Okoro: You reserved what for me…..A grave?

Telemarketer: A free burial space

Mr Okoro: What’s the difference?

Telemarketer: Well the word “grave” can be scary sir, you can disregard the letter if you don’t want it. This is just a courtsey call to—

Mr Okoro: So as a telemarketer, you can pick up the phone and cold call people and pitch them with such offers?

Telemarketer: Well, yes sir. We always make sure it is something of potential interest to them –

Mr Okoro: Of course, who wouldn’t be interested in dying? I am definately interested in a grave. I am. That is a very important decision to make before die right?

Telemarketer: I agree with u sir. You are so open-minded about this. A lot of people don’t understand why it is so important to hand-pick your final resting place before you pass on. It ensures you get the kind of burial you want for yourself.

Mr Okoro: I see say na u dem send come

Telemarketer: I’m sorry? Send….come?

Mr Okoro: Oh, they don’t use the witchdoctor in the village anymore right? They have gone nuclear and now are using Americans. Na you dem send come!

Telemarketer: I’m sorry sir, but i don’t know what you are talking about.

Mr Okoro: I get fillage too o! i be proper bush boy and my mama still dey kampe for waterside. Na one phone call e go take and she go run go fillage go get me gold circle condom protection, u hear. Una no dey here say e better for somebody? Why na so-so make una dey spoil person own una dey like?

Telemarketer: I don’t understand what you are saying–

Mr Okoro: You go understand by force. Na airmail i go take send winch to you. You hear. Una tink say una know winch just because una dey do halloween? You tink winch na dat abracadabra una dey do for America ? You tink na to chant poetry and cook soup with lizard yansh and frog tongue be winch? I go show u where we dey use snake leg do ogbonge juju. Black winch, red winch, multi-colored winch….for my fillage, na your eyes i go take flavor the juju sef. You go know beta winch when my own army land.

Telemarketer: I do apologize to you if my phone call has offended you in any way-

Mr Okoro: You have not offended me. I am not offended. Do i sound offended? Why would i be offended because you- kindhearted telemarketer that you are- reserved a grave for me? Do you know how old i am? 32 . In my country, people don’t die at 32. When they die so young, it is a major tragedy! My mother and father are still alive. You want me to die before them?

Telemarketer: I didn’t mean anything-

Mr Okoro: You people never mean anything when you make these stupid phone calls. How dare u wish me death–

Telemarketer: No, that’s not what –

Mr Okoro: I DON’T CARE!!! Do you know how many years i worked on getting a visa to come to America ? 10 Years….Ejioku. ….10!. Do u know how many laws i broke in so many countires before i found my way here? I have been here only 2 yrs. All the pepole who gave me loans to buy ticket and visa have not been paid. My mother and father are still waiting for me to perform the magic of Dollars for them in Nigeria . This telephone was just connected 2 months ago because i am just now able to afford a telephone because i cannot make good money due to my illegal alien status. And now, you want me to die before i can even begin to enjoy a little,….. ah, your own don spoil o, i swear , e no go betta for you.

Telemarketer: E no…what?

Mr Okoro: Na hand ya mama and papa go take bury you. And na there eyes dem go take cry for that yeye grave wey u don reserve for yaself.

Telemarketer: Are u cursing me sir?

Mr Okoro: cuss you ke? why should i? why would i want to cuss someone who is offering me a grave? I am only reacting in my own local English. That is how we behave when we are overwhelmed with joy in my country..

Telemarketer: I just had a distinct feeling that you were not saying nice things about me.

Mr Okoro: See dis wowo wey craw-craw don chop him yansh finish….Look, just aside, are all the members of your family reserved space in your graveyard?

Telemarketer: Some of them do have–

Mr Okoro: No, don’t stop there. You should get everybody a plot. I go help you use juju finish all of them make una dey go do whassup dog for Hollywood , abi na wey u dey call from

Telemarketer: I have to hang up now sir

Mr Okoro: Before u hang up, would you by any chance know anything about a scam where telemarketers call people on the phone to assure them a free burial space, and then try to get them expensive mausoleums and crypts? What is it call? Bait and switch, right?

Telemarketer: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Mr Okoro: You get pickin

Telemarketer: get picking? picking what?

Mr Okoro: You get pickin? u don born bomboy? make you dash your pickin thegrave now

Telemarketer: Dash picking….. you’re dissing me?

Mr Okoro: Diss? Dis one pass dis, agaracha. Dis one na K.I.S.S, kiss- serious kiss of the death

Telemarketer: I have to hang up now sir

Mr Okoro: No, please wait. Let me reserve the whole cemetry for your unborn children. I will also reserve a full page in the Daily times Obituary section–

Telemarketer: Thats mean! you can’t talk to me like that just because i am a telemarketer. We are people too

Mr Okoro: Yes, bad people….people who call to trick me at all kinds of hours into buying something i don’t want.

Telemarketer: I’m going to report you to the INS! You will be deported!

Mr Okoro: My juju go don finish you before you reach the place. Winch pass winch! you no go die betta, i tell you. I go make sure u crase first, make you waka enter k-mart abi wetin una dey call market for dis side- before dem finish you!…… She reserve grave……why you no take knife kill me yaself? E no go betta for —hello? you hang up? why u no wait make i finish ? why not wait? Oloshi! Na dead dog wey get rabies go chop the mouth you take talk to me.

 

interesting conversation: a telemarketer calls Mr. Okoro

From Facebook

 

Enjoy this dialogue between a Nigerian man and an American telemarketer.

Ring…..Ring. ..Ring

Mr Okoro : Hello?

Telemarketer: Hi, this is Raheema calling from Hollywood Hereafter Resources. I just wanted to let you know that your phone number was randomly selected in a drawing and we have reserved a free burial space for you at the New Island Cemetry in Bridge-

Mr Okoro: What?!!!

Telemarketer : If you would just give me your name and address. I want to send you a letter to confirm the free burial space we have reserved for you—

Mr Okoro: You reserved what for me…..A grave?

Telemarketer: A free burial space

Mr Okoro: What’s the difference?

Telemarketer: Well the word “grave” can be scary sir, you can disregard the letter if you don’t want it. This is just a courtsey call to—

Mr Okoro: So as a telemarketer, you can pick up the phone and cold call people and pitch them with such offers?

Telemarketer: Well, yes sir. We always make sure it is something of potential interest to them –

Mr Okoro: Of course, who wouldn’t be interested in dying? I am definately interested in a grave. I am. That is a very important decision to make before die right?

Telemarketer: I agree with u sir. You are so open-minded about this. A lot of people don’t understand why it is so important to hand-pick your final resting place before you pass on. It ensures you get the kind of burial you want for yourself.

Mr Okoro: I see say na u dem send come

Telemarketer: I’m sorry? Send….come?

Mr Okoro: Oh, they don’t use the witchdoctor in the village anymore right? They have gone nuclear and now are using Americans. Na you dem send come!

Telemarketer: I’m sorry sir, but i don’t know what you are talking about.

Mr Okoro: I get fillage too o! i be proper bush boy and my mama still dey kampe for waterside. Na one phone call e go take and she go run go fillage go get me gold circle condom protection, u hear. Una no dey here say e better for somebody? Why na so-so make una dey spoil person own una dey like?

Telemarketer: I don’t understand what you are saying–

Mr Okoro: You go understand by force. Na airmail i go take send winch to you. You hear. Una tink say una know winch just because una dey do halloween? You tink winch na dat abracadabra una dey do for America ? You tink na to chant poetry and cook soup with lizard yansh and frog tongue be winch? I go show u where we dey use snake leg do ogbonge juju. Black winch, red winch, multi-colored winch….for my fillage, na your eyes i go take flavor the juju sef. You go know beta winch when my own army land.

Telemarketer: I do apologize to you if my phone call has offended you in any way-

Mr Okoro: You have not offended me. I am not offended. Do i sound offended? Why would i be offended because you- kindhearted telemarketer that you are- reserved a grave for me? Do you know how old i am? 32 . In my country, people don’t die at 32. When they die so young, it is a major tragedy! My mother and father are still alive. You want me to die before them?

Telemarketer: I didn’t mean anything-

Mr Okoro: You people never mean anything when you make these stupid phone calls. How dare u wish me death–

Telemarketer: No, that’s not what –

Mr Okoro: I DON’T CARE!!! Do you know how many years i worked on getting a visa to come to America ? 10 Years….Ejioku. ….10!. Do u know how many laws i broke in so many countires before i found my way here? I have been here only 2 yrs. All the pepole who gave me loans to buy ticket and visa have not been paid. My mother and father are still waiting for me to perform the magic of Dollars for them in Nigeria . This telephone was just connected 2 months ago because i am just now able to afford a telephone because i cannot make good money due to my illegal alien status. And now, you want me to die before i can even begin to enjoy a little,….. ah, your own don spoil o, i swear , e no go betta for you.

Telemarketer: E no…what?

Mr Okoro: Na hand ya mama and papa go take bury you. And na there eyes dem go take cry for that yeye grave wey u don reserve for yaself.

Telemarketer: Are u cursing me sir?

Mr Okoro: cuss you ke? why should i? why would i want to cuss someone who is offering me a grave? I am only reacting in my own local English. That is how we behave when we are overwhelmed with joy in my country..

Telemarketer: I just had a distinct feeling that you were not saying nice things about me.

Mr Okoro: See dis wowo wey craw-craw don chop him yansh finish….Look, just aside, are all the members of your family reserved space in your graveyard?

Telemarketer: Some of them do have–

Mr Okoro: No, don’t stop there. You should get everybody a plot. I go help you use juju finish all of them make una dey go do whassup dog for Hollywood , abi na wey u dey call from

Telemarketer: I have to hang up now sir

Mr Okoro: Before u hang up, would you by any chance know anything about a scam where telemarketers call people on the phone to assure them a free burial space, and then try to get them expensive mausoleums and crypts? What is it call? Bait and switch, right?

Telemarketer: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Mr Okoro: You get pickin

Telemarketer: get picking? picking what?

Mr Okoro: You get pickin? u don born bomboy? make you dash your pickin thegrave now

Telemarketer: Dash picking….. you’re dissing me?

Mr Okoro: Diss? Dis one pass dis, agaracha. Dis one na K.I.S.S, kiss- serious kiss of the death

Telemarketer: I have to hang up now sir

Mr Okoro: No, please wait. Let me reserve the whole cemetry for your unborn children. I will also reserve a full page in the Daily times Obituary section–

Telemarketer: Thats mean! you can’t talk to me like that just because i am a telemarketer. We are people too

Mr Okoro: Yes, bad people….people who call to trick me at all kinds of hours into buying something i don’t want.

Telemarketer: I’m going to report you to the INS! You will be deported!

Mr Okoro: My juju go don finish you before you reach the place. Winch pass winch! you no go die betta, i tell you. I go make sure u crase first, make you waka enter k-mart abi wetin una dey call market for dis side- before dem finish you!…… She reserve grave……why you no take knife kill me yaself? E no go betta for —hello? you hang up? why u no wait make i finish ? why not wait? Oloshi! Na dead dog wey get rabies go chop the mouth you take talk to me.

 

questions: why do Nigerians die of just brief illnesses

I still saw him two weeks ago, on October 8^th, to be exact. Over the weekend I heard he died. The person / a relative said ‘he died after a brief illness”.

I wondered if my guy was sick when we last bumped into each other. He sure didn’t look sick. And if not for the gloomy air around my informant, and in my pissed off mood, I wanted to ask her what the definition of brief illness was.

“One problem I have with Nigeria and Nigerians dying is that everybody dies after only a brief illness. No one dies of cancer, headache, stomach ache, tooth/leg pain; no one dies of brain tumor, one disease or the other, in fact, no one grows old and dies; no one dies of food poisoning, drug addiction, over/under eating or what have you – everybody dies of brief illnesses”.  quote by mypenmypaper

Please note: brief illness, not major illnesses. Patients in the hospital who have their right leg pointing to the West and the left pointing to the East, who might be bandaged from head to toe have major, not brief illnesses. Unfortunately, these ‘majorly-ill’ people recover, come to church to give testimonies, do thanks giving and get on with their lives; while those people you see going to their places of work each day, eating and living fat die of brief illnesses, and that very suddenly.

No where else in the world, except in Nigeria do people die of brief illnesses. Unfortunately, these brief illnesses are so brief, and the illness is just an illness without any other definition, that those of us who are still breathing just pray, sending all brief illnesses back to sender.

And if you read Nigerian newspapers, you’ll have your hands full. Especially dailies who thrive on obituary publishing, the truth is any person whose wake / burial is published, died of a brief illnesses. The exact cause of death is never published. Whether the bereaved are just protecting their loved ones, or are really ignorant of the cause of death, or whether ‘brief illness’ is a journalistic word, I would like to know. Perhaps the cause of death is/was an airborne disease that the rest of us should be aware of, or it was a drug without a NAFDAC number, purchased from the unregistered Pharmacy next door, the owner of which should be arrested and thrown in the deepest part of Kirikiri – the rest of us are kept in complete darkness. Or maybe its a wrong application of Juju, a housmaid from hell, or if this ‘brief illness’ thingy is synonymous with ‘diabolical means’(nollywood) that have no physical explanation – we really don’t know. 

I would really like someone to tell me the definition, what and where of this brief illness. Can it be treated in a hospital, on in a Church, a Mosque, or maybe its Mr. Gurumaraji along Lagos Ibadan express way that has the solution. I’ve asked several people what these other brief illness informants really mean.

I’ve been informed as follows:

• when the cause of death is not known, its summarized as ‘brief illness’:  – to this I’m of the opinion that an autopsy could help sort out the doubts. Then I’m told that the reason why Nigerians don’t like autopsies is that ‘an autopsy scatters the dead’, an autopsy renders the dead useless, the dead man/woman is no more resting in peace once an autopsy is done. Honestly, of what use is a dead man/woman? To this I ask: should he/she be resting in peace in the first place?(lets assume all the dead are resting in peace), if we knew the cause of death and could have done something to prevent it.
• theres a fear that medical doctors that do autopsies might remove, exchange organs and ‘do buisness’ in the process. I was told this makes doctors rich as they could market such organs to Juju people, quack doctors, etc, who use them for all sorts of purposes. I asked my informant if a doctor has been caught locally doing such buisness. She replied: how does the relative of the dead identify if the liver(for example) sutured up into the dead’s internals is/was the original liver that the dead had while he/she was alive? I remembered my doctor friend who got a job offer to do abortions, I’m like, well, duh!…and she continued: in Nigeria, anything can happen.
• another fear is that if the organs of the dead are removed, exchanged, etc., Juju people might use it to do Juju against the living family members of the dead. So I’m wondering: if the living cannot identify / correctly place together the original organs of the dead, yet Juju people can use it for charms against the living? Honestly, this is deep. Unfortunately the person talking to me is a Christian and I wondered why Christians still believe in Juju. I suppose, its either one believes in God or in Satan, in Christ on in Juju – not in both at the same time, at least. Unfortunately these Juju believing Christians know how everything in the diabolical works together. They just need to hear the middle part of the story, they’ll figure out the beginning and the end – much like Nollywood movies.
• is brief illness part of lack of education, a resort to despair, a real or imaginary sickness, a fairy tale, an urban legend, Juju or whatever the name is?

This piece will be continued sometime in the future. In the meantime, why do Nigerians die of just brief illnesses?