February

A Screenplay

Nick Nwaogu

• Publisher: Nick Nwaogu
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781544192598
• Topic: Mezzi di comunicazione e arti performative
• Subtopic: Sceneggiature per il cinema

In FEBRUARY, together, Sergeant Femi Kolawole and investigative journalist Chioma Okafor solves Emeka's Valentine-day murder, and on doing so, Chioma is exposed to Femi's heroic personality, which makes her eventually fall in love with him. The Plot:
Chioma Okafor, a young investigative journalist, is pressured by her over-ambitious mother into an unwanted romantic relationship with Uche, a young sophisticated university lecturer. Chioma yields to her mother's pressure, hoping she would eventually fall in love with Uche as her mother assured, but she never did. On a Valentine date with Uche, Chioma gets a glimpse of what her relationship has been missing, as she feels love for the first time with Emeka, a handsome stranger who's unfortunately expecting a baby with Amara, a girl who Uche used to date in university. Uche turns a relationship that he intended to blow up into an engagement on Valentine's day, into a blood bath before midnight. Chioma who survives the near-death experience, narrates her Valentine dilemma to Femi, a clever Police Sergeant. The Twist:
Everybody thinks Uche died that night, but a strange text message sent from Chioma's phone to Emeka, triggers a series of twisted events, which proves that the jealous and malicious Uche is still alive and in the wind, and that the life of Chioma is hanging down by a thin thread. The ultimate question is: 'Since Uche is alive, then who is the man laying lifeless in the mortuary?' Chioma is certainly not pleased with the answer. Femi forcefully becomes Chioma's personal bodyguard, while he hunts down Uche, an innocent-looking man who Femi had met a day ago and poorly judged. Follow Femi as he uncovers this intriguing murder mystery that nobody even knew happened. The Play:
The screenplay starts with a scene of a couple whose faces aren't revealed to the screen, laying MOTIONLESS in a wrecked car, covered in their own blood, and ends in a conference room, as Chioma calls Femi to tell him how she feels about him. FEBRUARY is a unique blend of romance, comedy, suspense, and adventure. A beautifully crafted story of love, jealousy, betrayal, conspiracy, and ambition.

February

“FEBRUARY”

FADE IN:

EXT. LEKKI-EPE EXPRESSWAY - NIGHT

An expensive grey SUV is roughly parked inches away from a white commercial two-storey building. The vehicle is COMPLETELY wrecked -- with a shattered windscreen, broken headlights, minor dents and scratches to the doors, deflated tyres, and a bonnet RIPPED open, revealing a running engine oozing out thick black fumes. The air-bags are blown open.

Screen Caption: FEBRUARY 14, 2016 11:01 PM

A Couple, whose faces aren’t revealed to the Screen, lay MOTIONLESS in the car, covered in their own blood.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. LAGOS ISLAND - SERIES OF ESTABLISHING SHOTS

EXT. ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL - MORNING - ESTABLISHING

Establishing shot of St. Nicholas House -- a white fourteen-storey mixed-use high-rise building. The private hospital spans the first five floors of the commercial building.

Screen Caption: FEBRUARY 15, 2016 11:32 AM (PRESENT DAY)

Screen Caption: ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL, LAGOS-ISLAND

Private vehicles, commercial tricycles, and YELLOW cabs with BLACK horizontal stripes painted across their sides, pry SPEEDILY and dangerously along the busy Campbell Street, linking to the main entrance of the building.

RECEPTIONIST (O.S.)

You may need to come back later, sir. The patient is stable and responding to treatment, but she isn’t awake yet.

FEMI (O.S.)

Don’t worry I will wait.

An EMPTY white ambulance, completely buried in the faint shadow of the tall building, is PARKED on the tarred road of the Street, and very close to the entrance of the outpatient clinic on the ground floor. Female nurses in clean uniform are outside the building, heading for the entrance, chitchatting with one another and laughing.

There’s a large blue signboard just above the main entrance, which reads: “ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL”.

INT. RECEPTION HALL, ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL - CONTINUOUS

A NEAT, ORDERLY and somewhat QUIET king-size room.

RECEPTIONIST (O.S.)

It may take several hours.

FEMI (O.S.)

It’s alright, I’ve got all day. Just don’t forget to let me know when she’s awake.

An old lady, finely-wrinkled, probably in her mid-70s, completely grey-haired, wearing an old-fashion eye glasses with a black plastic frame and thick large lenses, is being pushed across the Screen, on a wheel chair, by a young female NURSE, who’s neatly dressed in a sparkling-clean white uniform.

RECEPTIONIST (O.S.)

Okay, sir. Please do have a seat.

We arrive at a dashingly-handsome gentleman, definitely in his early-30s, NEATLY dressed in a clean Nigeria Police uniform, blue shirt and black trouser, essentially decorated. The three red ‘V’s on his short sleeves indicate that the young chap is a SERGEANT in the Nigeria Police Force.

The Officer is RESTLESSLY seated on one of the many benches where families of patients are IMPATIENTLY waiting -- some of them are in GRIEF, others are in TEARS, but many of them are overwhelmed with ANXIETY, without any verbal interaction with anyone.

On one of the benches is a gentleman on a blue shirt and a grey trouser, swiping the screen of a sleek tablet, with his eyes glued to the screen. Next to him is an exhausted lady dressed in a native purple attire, dozing off. Behind them is a robust woman dressed in Ankara, speaking to herself in despair.

There is a vending machine at one corner of the room filled with wrapped foods and bottled drinks. Next to the vending machine is a bronze sculpture of the Late Nigerian gynecologist, obstetrician, and federal health minister, Moses Majekodunmi -- the founder of the hospital. In front of the rows of benches is a beautifully lit mini-grocery store with an equally beautiful female store attendant reading a stripped copy of Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, while wearing an enchanting smile.

EXT. IKOYI - SERIES OF ESTABLISHING SHOTS

EXT. NIGERIA POLICE STATION - SAME TIME - ESTABLISHING

Establishing shot of the Nigeria Police station at Awolowo Road, Ikoyi-Lagos -- a grey one-storey building, with the usual Police blue, yellow, and green stripes painted across its length, within a reasonably spacious compound. The compound walls are painted SAME colors. Police Officers in uniform are littered all over the interlocked compound - in bulletproof, dressed in camouflage, mostly with weapons in one arm, walking slowly in groups, chitchatting with one another, or standing put, dialoguing with civilians.

Screen Caption: THE NIGERIA POLICE STATION, IKOYI-LAGOS

A blue Police METRO PATROL van is PARKED in front of the station and along the TARRED road, with its engine STILL running. Two officers are in the van - one on the driver’s seat, and the other seated on one of the two long benches in the back of the van, dressed in a mobile Police uniform, with an AK-47 rifle in his possession. They seem to be patiently waiting, maliciously, for someone to arrive, or for something to happen.

Just behind the patrol van is a private blue truck with impounded motorcycles jam-packed in its carriage. There was a signboard that strictly prohibited loitering, hawking and parking.

INT. INCIDENT ROOM, NIGERIA POLICE STATION - CONTINOUS

A mini-size room with a small desk at one corner, and rough piles of paperback files defacing the top. The chair behind the desk is empty. Behind the counter are two junior Officers NEATLY dressed in complete black Police uniform. A CORPORAL with two red ‘V’s attached to his sleeves, and a SERGEANT with three. The Corporal’s name-tag reads: “KUNLE ADEYEMO”, while that of the Sergeant reads: “TEGA OGBEGBO”.

TEGA, physically unimpressive, rugged, not handsome, not ugly —- just plain. Rebellious, rude, and out-spoken, in his mid-30s.

KUNLE, gentle-faced, late-20s.

Far behind the Officers is a ratty detention cell, with HALF-NAKED men standing barefoot, oozing foul odor, FUTILELY squeezing their faces through the narrow spaces between the vertical rusty bars that jails them.

PRISONER #1

(to the Officers)

Chair, how long I go dey here?

TEGA

(without turning to the Prisoner)

Until person come bail you out. Meanwhile I no wan hear fem for there.

(to Kunle)

Where Femi dey?

Kunle is scribbling on an A4 paper, lifting words from another document. He is LEFT-HANDED.

KUNLE

(still scribbling)

I don’t know.

Indistinct conversations between the prisoners are being heard.

TEGA

(hisses; re: Femi)

Oga give others better partner. My own na waka waka.

(to Kunle)

Abeg, you get credit for phone make I use am call Femo?

KUNLE

(curtly)

I don’t.

TEGA

You no go ever get, in Jesus’ Name.

(bows his head quickly)

Amen!

Tega’s cursing halts Kunle’s writing. Kunle pauses, slowly looks away from the paper, and glances at Tega disapprovingly.

KUNLE

(vexed)

You asked me a questi...