It was not my Valentine!

Enthusiastic would always be the celebration of Valentines Day in Nigeria in the mass media.

Rather than focusing on St. Valentine loving the poor or the church healing the sick, instead people become most focused on erotic love sometimes for a one night stand, sometimes to sustain relationships. But it remains to be seen how the media professional fairs with love, marriage and family with or without Valentine. Maybe, unless a journalist is off duty, it would be assumed he or she enjoyed the immediate Val-night. But, given media lifestyle, off duty I must confess could well be the same like on-duty, when it comes to matters of romance, love, sex and maybe marriage. After all does one really have a life of his own outside the business of programing or news production?

I spent Val-night in the newsroom at my broadcast station, hooked like an addict to this life. And yeah! I was not surprised at the libidinous celebrations on the broadcast media on

Valentine Day. Though Sky, CNN or BBC usually appeal, I could not take my eyes off movies with sexual innuendoes. It was also a mass blitz with unparalleled counteracting proclamations by the church and the secular society.

 But by no estimation was I prepared for the Vals in the in the print media. Meaning and purpose from these sources simply put me in a plastic state. My only reaction if you ask me was a flexible continuum in the erection I had from time to time. Thinking where to find an agreeable point between the two, I stumbled on the issue of marriage. And that was when I thought it would be nice to have a woman, a wife. So whenever I read about one divorce or another, I simply think marriage could not really work for media professionals. Please prove me wrong or right!

Well to some Valentine Day celebration may well mean marriage; after all in the heat of sexual exhibitionism, you could get tied up with the right chemistry and physical spark. But I seem to think love, could happen behind a backdrop of a broadcast studio. It is not my experience, but friends and enemies have said they once had bumpy rides; even had orgasms just when the presenter dropped the last word about dead bodies in an Iraqi bomb attack. Therefore if such things happen at movie shoots too, can you imagine how many adulterous nights media people spend under klieg lights? Now as we all enjoy joyous romps behind cameras and maybe for some in front could we not think of a Valentine Day special? That is what I watched on my chosen channel (other than CNN, Sky or BBC).

It brings up the question whether the message is the media or the other way: in other words, could sex professionalize the media? It is okay if you think the media caused sexual libretto, written by some loony, who probably saw that sex is the hottest piece, most marketable on the internet too. Let us say it was the media that re-invented sex. It could not have been others but media professionals who put sex on the mass media simply have a rare privilege. Therefore going by that may be we in the media are crazy about sex, enh? But if we are simply reflecting the society, then everyone is simply sexed up! Did you believe it is us in the media that are crazy about sex?

I wonder what kind of argument would differentiate a media sex vixen from the other on the street. Meantime, what about an oversexed housewife, sex hungry Roman Catholic priest, who attacks children or the joyriding sex-driven teenager. Beckon on the next starved human, you would not need Valentine Day to knock it off.

But Valentine Day was and will always be. Maybe till we have a re-think about love, romance, marriage and family. Not even HIV/AIDS might change the media-driven concept of sex, I tell you. It is for sale, whether in movies, music or just hardcore XXX-sites on the net. The net gain is always money and orgasm. Therefore when my girlfriend, Ifeoma, strolled into the newsroom, I could only just manage to reposition my erection.

For the much I could remember of our relationship I needed to book a hotel room in the neighbourhood of our TV station. I only thought she was playing games, because even on my off-days, any request that we could go do it through three-hours in the absence of my flat mate, would always be played down with her having choir practice. You know Saturday is my day my man. My off day yo! But, some days before that Valentine night, I became uppity and proposed marriage, which seems to be the only way to get most female professionals, especially those in the media, playing that game. She was like actually gamed, but given the condition of my member, I supposed she suspected it was just for the kill and nothing more. And so she coyly fired back that wanted to be sure whether my people would like her for my wife you know, in Nigeria, it matters a lot where you come from and who you get married to.

But meanwhile both of us never took our eyes of the vixens romping away on the screen. Can't even remember the title but I was getting uncomfortable about my erection increasing and diminishing every now and then. Hoping on one hand she would feel the same way and give in, but praying that my discomfort should not be noticed.

Before the end of the movie, when the 'stars' had used all the strong languages, gone nude and had all the imaginable orgasms in the world, my girl just strolled out and headed to the ladies-room. I didnt know whether to for what, but she was gone for quite some time. But I turned on the air-conditioner and open my legs to give it a breather. It did help! Because by the time she got back I was watching either BBC, CNN or Sky.

Somehow my thoughts wondered and my inner premium assailed my sense of reasoning. For I have been in love strongly when my first attempt to have sex with Ifeoma failed. I fell in love with the woman I still love today.

Quiet and resigned, I believed I had found my all. But we had a quarrel that turned out my apologizing would be a follow up to our coming closer as contemporaries. I had a better idea and love was that most fundamental treasure of mine. At first she seemed reluctant, but needed an ethnic brother to prove I could be the man. So on that note we understood ourselves. But Amaka loves secrecy, and in fact that modesty which is quite unusual in the media profession may have really proven that she is a lady.

However I also know that Amaka loves good things. But very unlike Queennette, whom I also flirted with, she does not really say it loud and clearly. The two have been jokers in my poker game for two years now. You know Queennette just loves that fact that I could be rich being a talented script/copywriter-producer for the station. A fact Amaka told someone else, but that typical of the Nigerian media space, management was not making any effort to harness. I was not surprised because for two years she has enjoyed reading my love poems. Yet she would not think about marrying me.

But at a point she began to behave like we could build romance, love and sex, then see whether marriage could actually come to be. It would be a waiting game. And I did not quite like that, because my yearning then and now is to become a father. And with a woman like Amaka, intelligent and hardworking (even if she is pretending modesty), is simply my kind of wife material. I always tell my colleagues that I could not marry a dunce. The reason why I challenged Queennette and may be prompted her to gain a masters degree recently. Wow! I keep on wondering if I ever really inspired that. Exactly the kind of project I have spent money scouring the internet to get a media training grant from the UK or USA for Amaka for a long time. Maybe a strategy to actually show how I love her, but she has been inspired lately to join an NGO Journalist Against HIV/AIDS, possibly hoping to get out there and use her brilliance as well.

In the course of waiting for Amaka to really make up her mind, I thought I could warm up to Queennette as a security just in case the former failed. But you know sex is as hot as the next oven cake; words soon got around that I was dating Queennette. That was a mistake: as Amaka was beginning to really warm up, she found out. She dismissed me with some finality. She said we could not marry me, because there was a guy, whom she would not dare dump! Well I would not blame her; I asked for it. I should have been a little more careful and patient.

So three weeks to the last Val, she went on leave. Therefore I came to that Val night a hungry man. Yes emotionally and physically. One would not blame me for wanting a romp with Ifeoma. After all I would not know whom Amaka was with. But I was advised to send a Val card on the net by one of those busy-body sympathizers. When she returned last week, she seemed sobered. I keep wondering what to do.

The odds are most TV girls want men with cash. But most TV men are the poorest of the lot professionals in Nigeria. I keep wondering why Christian Ammanpour waited to get married at forty. I keep dreaming Amaka is Christian Ammanpour, and she could wait for the cash to role in or the job to spare me. Help!

Aha! I will not forget Greg my friend. My guy has over the last two years of my frantic efforts to gain Amaka, been involved too. He is proposing we travel to Makurdi, Benue State really soon to effect his traditional marriage to Iveren. Both are growing broadcasters, and you know he reads news for Nigeria's biggest TV network, Nigerian Television Authority. They were both with in Minaj Broadcast International, and he ended his contract when she left for Channels Television.

Greg and Iveren's is a case of two young people in their twenties trying to beat traditional consents from parents to marry. But no If I start gossiping these two pals of mine on the net, it might mean that I am not being discreet. I have always told Greg that Amaka might fear that when it comes to actual marriage her people who are Igbos may never accept me a s a son-in-law an Ibibio . Well yes! Ethnic prejudice is still very strong in Nigeria. May be when politicians learn to just be Nigerians, the journalist apart from low pay may also overcome ethnicity.