Back business

Wilson Orhiunu

First Gentleman with Wilson Orhiunu

Email: babawill2000@gmail.com Twitter: @Babawilly

Sometimes the empire strikes back. Those independent city states forced into a new nation by super powers who for years served the interests of the elitist agenda suddenly discover that they had a belly for a fight. They strike, and the surprised elite have only one question on their lips when they hear the name of their new tormentors.

“Who are they?”

It happens like that sometimes. A previously obedient slave who has toed the party line for years suddenly wakes up screaming words like freedom, emancipation and self-reliance.

That is what happened to me the other night when a group of back room staff of mine all put down tools, went wide and set the work place alight with a fire of inflammation.

All I could ask was “just who are the erector spinae muscles?”

The day started like any ordinary day for a nursing father. I had a long night of interruptions and next came the sun rise. My older son wanted breakfast and that meant no extra sleep. Later in the day I went for my gym session followed by a road run in cold weather. After dinner there was music playing and I filmed myself dancing with my son.

Just before going to sleep the left side of my back went into the kind of spasm best described as a terrorist attack.

Getting out of bed the next morning was agony and my two-year-old did not know daddy had undergone some changes. He demanded to be carried and I obliged while biting my lower lip; proof of my multitasking credentials.

The body is full of muscles which should be singing from the same hymn sheet no matter how the conductor changes the tempo. But sometimes you move in a direction and some outliers just refuse to play ball. These are the traitors. The back stabbers. If you don’t understand ask Julius Caesar about Brutus when you die.

My whole muscle population are signed to get me fitter but the left erector spinae muscles decided to play the rebel and start a low back rebellion. How was I supposed to carry out my daily running schedule now? Peace keeping forces aka Paracetamol and Ibuprofen proved to be of little benefit and a back massage from my wife who is currently a nursing mother was out of the question. She probably will ask for a massage before she gives me one.

Traitors in the empire are despicable enemies of progress. I recall a story I heard about Fela Kuti’s band going AWOL in 1978 at the Berlin Jazz Festival. Ironically this band performed effortlessly on stage before their back stabbing episode.

The story of Jesus and his Money Management Man – Judas – needs no repeating.

I took the course of action I felt was best. Fire for fire. I went on a two-hour run. Why let any silly group of muscles dictate what I do in the run up to Christmas? A good idea at the time but in retrospect I might have chosen a less painful alternative.

That night I could feel pain and hear music coming from BOSE speakers in my back muscles. It was Soul to Soul all night. Back to life. Back to reality

I felt like an old man the next day but thankfully things started to get better. I looked at the positive side. I did not have the dreaded cauda equina syndrome that could make the legs go paralysed and the bladder incontinent (Piss for bodi syndrome in countri man English). I was sure it was just muscle pain and we all know that there is no gain without pain. So in summary, I was gaining as I limped around the house not bothering to pick anything up from the floor as there was no guarantee I could make it back up if I went down. No pain no gain indeed. I had gain to spare. I had so much pains and gains that I could loan out my gains at a competitive rate. Perhaps there is scope for a pyramid scam in here somewhere but I am yet to discover it. Maybe two people buy my back pain and they in turn look for four others to buy their own back pains. On it goes till the inevitable collapse occurs.

I have not been in the gym since my back attack but I still run with a strange running style at reduced speed. When a gym member asked why he hadn’t seen me in the place to be for three days running, I gave him the Arnie (Arnold Schwarzenegger) response.