Tag Archives: Walking Dead

Meet Joy Lo-Bamijoko #RRBC

Joy is one of the most supportive members of the Rave Reviews Book Club. Nobody deserves this spot more than she does. She’s the one who’s always sharing our efforts on Twitter and other social media. Welcome Joy to Entertaining Stories.




Voices of Four Igbo Women

An Excerpt:

Nwanyi Di Mma (The Beautiful Woman)

Twenty years later, Ify is back in Port Harcourt, a professional woman. She first visits Diobu market, her childhood training ground. She remembers the old Diobu market as an open camp where sellers of all types of merchandise sold their goods. They made their shades from corrugated iron sheet or large umbrellas. There were no toilets. The waterside next to the market was used as the public toilet. Now the market has been completely rebuilt with concrete and permanent stalls, clean public toilets with attendants, and parking spaces for cars. She has returned to Port Harcourt ten years after her studies of cinematography at the School of Cinematography at Cinecittà in Rome. Port Harcourt is the city where she grew up. Port-Harcourt has always been a very clean city, known as the garden city of Nigeria.

She is still walking through the market when she stops short at the used clothes stalls. She hears a familiar voice and turns to look at the owner of the voice. She sees a chubby woman selling the clothes. This woman somehow reminds her of Miss Nelly, her third-grade teacher at the Baptist Day School. Miss Nelly is the only teacher of her elementary school that she still remembers very well. She walks past this lady several times and looks at her. But this lady is chubby, with sleepy eyes and faded skin. She does not look anything like Miss Nelly, though she must have been pretty in her younger years. But her voice sounds familiar when she speaks.

The Miss Nelly she knew was tall, fair in complexion, and very beautiful, the picture of the woman that every young girl wants to be. The woman in the market is the complete opposite of what Miss Nelly looked like, but her voice is the same. Ify decides that this woman, who looks tired, with curved shoulders, cannot be Miss Nelly. Her Miss Nelly could not have such dull eyes with heavy bags under them or lifeless and wrinkled skin. She could not wear old faded clothes or have such faded complexion. This woman looks like someone who has aged prematurely, like some of those women in the village who fade into old age very quickly after marriage and many children.

Her Miss Nelly had a quiet and calm disposition. Ify was ten years old when she was in Miss Nelly’s class, so she remembers how easygoing Miss Nelly was. No one took Miss Nelly seriously even when she was angry. Little things in life made her happy. She did not have enemies, and yet she was surrounded by people who took advantage of her good nature. She had clear bright eyes that seemed to smile all the time, and she twisted her fingers when she was embarrassed.

Miss Nelly was her childhood idol. How could she end up like this? Ify remembers her as a soft-spoken and kind teacher whom every student loved. Her legs were slightly curved, with a dimple in the middle of the inner side of her right leg. As a kid, Ify admired that dimple and wished that she had one like that. She poked her finger into her right leg and hoped it would form a dimple. Miss Nelly had dimples also on both cheeks when she smiled. She always walked with pride, the picture of a lady who would go places.

At the time Miss Nelly taught Ify, teachers still practiced corporal punishment. Some teachers came to school with canes on their belts, or they just swung canes as a warning to students that they will use it, and that always kept the students in line. Miss Nelly never used the cane. She just made her students love her, and she knew and called them by name, also using endearing words like “sweetie,” “love,” and words like that to address them. She had a knack for remembering names. Ify competed with the other students to make her happy.

“Hello, Miss Nelly,” Ify hears someone say, bringing her back to the present. Ify makes a double turn to the direction of the voice. She sees another familiar face from where she is at that corner store outside the market. The person is sitting four tables away from her, and Miss Nelly is walking out of the market with provisions. She looks like maybe she is on her way home to cook for kids.

“Chuchu! How many times will I tell you that the name is now Mrs. Imo?”

Speaking is the same lady that she saw at the market, so she is really Miss Nelly.

“I will never call you that,” Chuchu says, teasing the lady. “You will always be Miss Nelly to me.”

Ify watches as the two crack more jokes and then watches Miss Nelly walk away. Can this chubby, fat lady be her Miss Nelly? No, she shakes her head still puzzled.

She has been away from Port Harcourt, her old school town, for twenty years. She has come back to see what the Biafran Civil War has done to her town. The war has indeed changed Port Harcourt. Her house at Bende Street is no more. The whole of Bende Street, and the timber market at the end of it, are now part of a new layout in downtown Port Harcourt. Everything has changed. A huge concrete embankment lines the ocean shore where she used to go with other children to catch frog fish left behind by the ocean as it retreats. Port Harcourt is on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, and the ocean retreats completely at noon, leaving dry land and struggling fish behind. The children used to jump in with baskets to catch the fish. If a child strayed too far into the ocean’s dry bed, that child would be swept off by the ocean when it returned at 2:00 p.m. Many children lost their lives that way. The return of the ocean was so swift that even grown-ups could not outrun it. They either knew how to swim or would be carried off by the ocean.



Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoko

Joy Nwosu was born in Enugu, Anambra State of south-eastern Nigeria. Her parents were Charles Belonwu and Deborah Nwosu. She is the fifth in rank of the seven children of her parents. Joy was born into a music family.

Joy, now retired, was a music teacher, trained in Santa Cecilia, Rome, and obtained her Ph.D. in Music Education from the University of Michigan, USA.

She has written and published extensively on national and international scholarly journals, magazines, and newspapers.

Her short story I Come from Utopia was published in African Voices, Spring/Summer, 2007, pg. 18, and her first English novel; Mirror of Our Lives: Voices of Four Igbo Women was published in 2011, and was shortlisted for the Commonwealth Book Contest in 2012. She has also two books published in the Italian language.

Joy is a trained musician, and taught music for 35 years. She writes, performs, and record folk songs.

Her new book: The Legend of the Walking Dead: Igbo Mythologies, which has just been released, is a journey into the mysteries of life and death of the Igbos of Nigeria. She loves reading romances and mystery stories.


http://sbpra.com/joylobamijoko/ Mirror of Our Lives …..

http://sbprabooks.com/JoyNwosuLoBamijoko/ Legend of the Walking…

Buy Mirror of Our Lives…Amazon Link:


Barnes & Noble Link


Link to my Blog:jinlobify.Com

Face BookLink: https://www.facebook.com/joy.lobamijoko

Link to my LinkedIn Book Add: http://goo.gl/fT1P2O

Trailer: Mirror of Our Lives: Voices of Four Igbo Women


Twitter Handle:@Jinlobify


Filed under Writing

Tired out today

I got up at 4:00 AM today. I got my fishing gear together along with my outdoor clothing. This includes my cowboy hat and bandana for the day. I made two pots of coffee to fill a thermos for everyone. I took a moment to read a few blogs and respond to some overnight comments.

My son, daughter-in-law, and grandkids picked me up at 7:00. We went to the Steck Park area of Brownlee Reservoir. Fishing was slow, but not a disaster. My daughter-in-law caught the biggest catfish. It was a dandy, and might have been a shade over five pounds.

My son caught what we called a kitten fish by comparison. You can bet my daughter-in-law took great joy in that. Old grandpa got skunked today. I still had a great time. The grandkids spent most of the time in the mud or lake itself. They had a great time too.

We saw a lot lot of pheasants along the way today. I spotted a coyote on the other side of the lake, and a golden eagle worked the shores from above. We heard chuckars everywhere, but only saw a few. I love watching the animals when I go out.

My son wanted to take me home and let me clean the fish. To be honest, he’s never fileted a fish of any kind. Catfish are more difficult than most, because the skin sticks like iron.

I was on my game. I told him I would be happy to show him, but we were doing it at his house. Grandpa still wants to stay married to grandma.

It was a long day, but a good day. The only downer is that somehow about two inches got broken off the tip of my custom catfish pole. This is one my father made for me and he hand wrapped all the threads. It even has my name on it. Dad isn’t makeing these any longer. I should have locked it in a safe somewhere, but fishing poles are meant for fishing.

I also had my mind blown by The Walking Dead tonight. I was about to be pissed over the Glen storyline, but breathed a small sigh of relief. I won’t feel perfect until I know he wasn’t bitten.

Tomorrow might be the day I get to drop off my truck for repairs. At least I hope it works that way. Beyond that, I want to do some more writing.


Filed under Uncategorized

Safe at Home

It sounds like the Arizona Diamondbacks are off to a great start. They lost both of their early games to the Dodgers. These games were played in Australia, to promote the sport over there. I don’t see this as a disadvantage, since the Dodgers were against the same travel ordeal.

I, on the other hand am safe at home. (Lame baseball joke, for my international followers) We went to Nevada for my father’s 80th birthday.

There were about a dozen family members at his pizza party. Dad was totally surprised, and everyone had a good time.

There were lots of visiting requirements, and I’m pretty tired right now. It was nice seeing everyone though.

My writing suffered. I didn’t manage a single new word of fiction. It sounds like my current project, Will ‘O the Wisp is going to suffer even more. There are a lot of people planning on visiting me in the next 60 days or so. I’d like to complain, but can’t. I like seeing all of them.

I may have to make a decision about Will ‘O the Wisp. I can hack my way through, amid all the visitors. This means a ton of rewriting after I have serious time to write. I can also put it off. This will require me to read through and edit what I have, before tackling the ending with my normal style.

I don’t think there’s a winner or a loser there. It just is.

I’ve decided not to immediately start another story after Will ‘O the Wisp. I know what I want to write, but I have other obligations. I need to whip my remaining 3 projects into shape, buy cover art, and get them online. I’ve been trying everything at once, and while it can be done – I do better when I can check something off my list on occasion.

I picked up several more blog followers, thanks to Rachel Carrera. She interviewed me about my writing on Friday. Thank you, Rachel. Think about visiting her blog.

Other than that, it was blog silence for me this weekend. My overall blog numbers reflect this. (After Friday.) Ya gotta blog regularly, but you also have to live a life.

In other news Doobster428 left a nice comment on one of my posts. He read Wild Concept, and said he enjoyed it. Everyone should go visit his blog, as my way of saying thanks. He could probably use the good cheer after all the poets got finished with him.

I’m home safe. I’m ready for The Walking Dead, and can’t wait to see the aftermath of their own Red Wedding episode last week. Tomorrow is back to the grindstone. I hope everyone had a great weekend.


Filed under Uncategorized

Weekend Wind Down

I’ve been hitting it pretty hard for weeks now. I admit, this weekend wasn’t really really productive. I got some things done, but I’m starting to wear thin.

This was a good weekend to work too. We’re between paychecks, and this means I can’t afford a lot of expensive distraction. It’s funny how the assessor never showed up when real estate prices were falling, but he made it right out when the market turned back up. My house payment is $100 per month higher now, due to taxes.

That same $100 could buy my cover art for Panama.

I didn’t write at all yesterday. It was the perfect day for it too. I needed to ruminate about a transition in my current story, and there was nothing I could do about that. My main character needs to go on the attack now, and shifting gears needs to get written the right way.

I managed to do some editing on Panama. (Coming soon to a Kindle near you.) These older works are good stories, but I’ve learned so much since I wrote them, that they need some cleaning up. I used to use a lot of filtering words, and killing them is dropping my word count. Panama is a short novel anyway, and I don’t want people to think they aren’t getting their monies worth. I managed to add more life to the jungle, and even included some smells and touch senses. If it’s still short, I may have to price it down accordingly.

I think Panama may need another editing pass once I finish this one. I want to double check the calendar and times in the story. Every writer runs the risk of saying something happened yesterday, when it was a week ago in the manuscript.

I used my cool fountain pen and wrote out some more character sheets. Some, or all of these characters will appear in whatever my next project is. For some reason, using a different tool makes you see things differently. There could be a shred of plot developing in my mind.

I also took some time off and just vegetated. I watched Django Unchained. Totally unrealistic, and totally fun. Lot’s of weapons errors, but I suspended disbelief well. I’m starting to really like Christoph Waltz, but I’ve only ever seen him in Tarantino movies.

Today, I laced up my writing boots and went to work. It didn’t amount to much, but there are 1152 new words on Will ‘O the Wisp. For those of you keeping track, I’m at 49,667 words now.

There is no absolute number of words for what qualifies as a novel. Popular thinking is 80,000 and that’s always been my benchmark. I used to always write long. I’ve learned to be more sparse, but now I have the opposite problem. It’s easier for me to trim than it is to add.

This blog update doesn’t mean I’m finished for the weekend. I’m about to begin reading the next book in the horror six pack I bought. I really enjoyed the last one about two thugs transporting a werewolf to an underworld boss. I have more editing to do too.

I’ll probably do a little bit of everything, but then I have a television appointment with the Walking Dead.

I always like the time changes when they come around, but I’m not looking forward to 4:00 AM Daylight Savings Time to start my work week.


Filed under Writing