Jerry Ifeanyi Chiemeke
I ran into him often but we never “officially” started talking until the last month of law school. Before that, It was the usual comment or two on my blog, and on His when he started blogging. I remember being
vaguely impressed with his blogging skills as he said he started the blog in April of 2013. I had to respect that.
During the externship, I had reason to experiment with “romance” writing when I explored the concept of the Friendzone; Owanate Max-Harry and Jerry Chiemeke became my unofficial editorial board. Their comments helped shape my blogging- if you read any of my blog posts within 10 minutes now, it’s directly because of Jerry and Owanate.
When the externship period ended, for some reason I couldn’t sleep in my room. I asked Owanate If I could stay in their room since they had 2 free spaces. as soon as Jerry agreed it was okay, I spent the night there. The next day I went to my room to shower and change. The next day I moved my bathroom kit to their room. By the next week the top bunk was crawling with my books, shirts and laptop.
Those days were the best days of law school.
I can say the entire essence of my life’s goals received a major boost. Which part did not? if it was my love life, Jerry and Owanate made sure they teased my life. In fact, once I sustained an Injury because He mentioned the word “blood” in connection with my crush.
Well, once I moved in, the attention turned on Jerry. First Benny, then Tracy, then a certain Yoruba girl whose name I will henceforth neglect to mention. We teased the rubbish out of his brain until eventually he went to Owerri and broke up with the girl he was dating. He will say the relationship was stuck in the mud and not going anywhere. I disagree.
Oh, and then he never let me rest- inventing titles like “St. Peter, patron saint of the friendzone”. In retrospect i may have not have published that piece if I knew the kind of backlash it would generate. To my credit I wore my sainthood like a badge of honour.
Jerry discovered Instagram under my watch. Deny it, Chiemeke if you will. There was once this controversy who owned the copyrights to a silhouette I arranged, directed, photographed, edited and published. His only part was that he followed my directions. It would seem that was my most popular photo on Instagram. And Jerry was my model. I will admit that my photographing got better because I had a student under me.
There was this night when our shutterphilia took control and we went hunting for photos. At 8pm. It must have looked highly weird (a sign of bars finals fatigue) but no one dared question our method of dealing with stress 🙂
How about Music? Jerry Knew more switchfoot songs than I did. He also knew tenth avenue north, a band mostly obscure in Nigeria. He knew all the “right” bands- Hawk Nelson, Kutless, Jesus Culture, Owl City et al. He also did not mind my listening to metalcore and thrash metal. We always had songs to swap and THAT was super awesome.
The inevitable exams came. The waiting period was crazy- everyone was so hungry that everytime I bought cornflakes it would disappear before nightfall. My milk would suddenly develop wings and my jam/marmalade/whatever I bought as breadspread. Curiously Jerry categorically refused to buy cornflakes. Or Milk. Or Jam. But he was perfectly content to buy a bag of water even if we consumed it within hours. That guy has OCD Abeg
The mischief knew no end. To be honest it was mostly me being mischievous and Jerry proved a convenient target. That guy seemed to provoke my evil side to come out. For example Jerry spent at least 35 minutes in the bathroom so we made jokes about the soap bar disappearing too quickly. And those times when Jerry assumed a posture that suspiciously resembled Driving. There was once when Jerry in a sudden burst of righteous germophobia started cleaning out the room. He didn’t ask me (or check) what was in a white bag and he threw it in the Bin. I was livid because they could have been my drugs. I travelled all the way to Abuja to see a doctor for the evil migraines I was having. And he just threw the bag out.
So I made him go out and look for it in the bin. He lifted the lid and started sorting through the pile of rubbish. After about 7 minutes I started feeling guilty and told him we should check the room. Sure enough the drugs were in another bag where I’d moved it for safekeeping. I knew it was there all along and i was sure I would tell him eventually. But he had to learn to mess my stuff.
The study sessions were awesome. You see, Jerry left UniBen with a Second-class Upper. In today’s Nigeria fraught with bribery and evil lecturers…No BE BEANS! So whenever Jerry and Owanate were talking academics i was tempted to be intimidated. Eventually, it gave me confidence. If I had any questions I would ask them. Turns out Jerry was quite the guru in Corporate Law which was my weakest course. So I tapped from his well of Knowledge. A time came when I started spouting off the dates for filing upon demand.
If I didn’t stay with with Jerry, I may have failed law school.
I surely would have loved to serve in the same state with this crazy human being…cross-fertilize ideas and all of that….but destiny flung me, Owans and Jerry to the corners of Nigeria.i still entertain the hope that one day all three of us will sit at the same table, probably with larger bellies and fatter bank accounts.
To The catechist who would have none of that Celibacy thing, Happy
Catch Jerry on http://www.pensofchi.wordpress.com
His twitter handle is
too long to remembe @Le_Bouquineur