I REMEMBER.

I remember when I was stupid
And I remember that I liked it.

I remember when I wanted you
And how you appeared with barter trade.

I remember how you let yourself in
Slowly, with a moon-walk.

I remember the fun we had
And I remember the love we shared.

I remember the bond grew so strong
And then you made me go asin.

I remember how you came
And I remember you came again.

I remember the crack in the anointed union
And how we sought for a divine settlement.

I remember how you left
So fast, with a creep-walk.

I remember how it felt
To lie in the bed and cry.

I remember it didn’t bring you back
As you had gone back to your trade.

I remember what you said
And I remember how you said it.

I remember the color of your voice- Dark Brown
‘Tears are not enough, move on’

I remember feeling whole at that moment
When I knew I could exorcise you.

I remember how you came
I remember how you stayed.

I remember how you left
And how I swore, 'never again'

I remember when i was stupid
And now that i remember,
I don't like it anymore.

STREET CREDIBILITY.

I’m loving this song with 9ice and Tuface. I like 9ice a lot…I don’t really understand what’s going on in the song but 9ice makes out all the lyrics pretty well. There’s no reason 9ice should have turned out as well as he has (and quickly too).
Being a ghetto-child myself, I sometimes sit with my friends and dream dreams. First there’s OB, who has come to be my favorite pal-in-the-projects and then, there’s Rex. Rex is more reserved, he doesn’t kiss and tell, and he sings -very well. I’m the only Yoruba in our triangle and most times I take the fall for my race and let them win tribal arguments. They’re my only ‘accessible’ friends and sometimes I try to close my eyes and imagine what life’ll be without them but I don’t see anything. I love these guys. They tease me a lot and make me watch too much TV to keep up with them and the lives they left behind in the US but I love them all the same.
All three of us were born in different ghettos. OB’s from the main one in Ajegunle (I give him so much credit for that part) that he’s completely proud of; Rex is from one in the East while I’m from a more subtle one in central Lagos. Somehow, we’ve landed here… on this Island (like the cast in the TV soap “Lost”) amongst the ‘others’. We have no leader however. Together, we’re a force.
We’re not afraid to dream, and while we’re at it, we make sure they’re big. Almost unimaginable. If anything good comes out of this ghetto, let it be us, all three of us. Life is good. Life is fun. Life is hard.
Life comes at us out of the darkness and at times we know we can struggle to find the courage to face it.
Nobody will come over here to look for the next UN secretary general but OB says ‘they don’t know where to look, Woomie is right here’. I always say, ‘I’ll find them don’t worry’.
Or nobody knows that the first Nigerian Grammy award winner is right in our ghetto. But then, Rex will find a way to reach out to them. I know and OB knows too.
But, what OB doesn’t know is, I stumbled upon a script he wrote. He writes scripts for everyday of his life and he acts it out well. He’s talented but he still doesn’t know. He wants to be Tommy Mattola. There are better dreams. But I believe in his dream.
We’re better people because we have each other. And even when we leave, we’ll never stop appreciating the fact that we made our lives matter. I know what they’ve done to mine. i guess they can say the same about me too.

CRYING OUT LOUD: I need some form of employment.

Why aren’t there any summer jobs in Lagos, Nigeria for jobless students like me? Or haven’t I searched all the right places?
There’s so much I can do without a degree! Hell! There isn’t much I can do with one.
Anyways, what I’m driving at is this: I NEED A JOB! Just for three months at least! Nigeria, is that too much to ask? I cannot stand the thought of doing absofrickinlutely NOTHING for three months. Damn! If I’m going to spend it reading for one exam of or attending some silly lectures, I’ve had enough! I do that all year round, it doesn’t enrich my pockets in ANY way. Boy, I have needs that ‘I’ want to take care of (starting with my schlock wardrobe that I need to upgrade, my fast-becoming-archaic book collection AND of course my now empty pen collection, BDW, I collect pens… I just want to take care of myself by myself)
So, if you’re reading this and shaking your head and saying, ‘there’s no hope for me, I simply can not get a job without a degree’ Shame On You! Who made that the Basic Standard? And who made you the judge??? It is people like you that make living in Nigeria difficult. All I want is a good-interesting-professional-fun job that beats watching E-News and soap re-runs all day.
If you have one in mind, holler at me. Oh! Wait a minute! I have to draw up a C.V right? Now that’s some shit cuz it’ll be soooo scanty-looking. But then, I can tell y’all here:
My name’s Woomie, I’m from West Nigeria, I’m under 21 but not a minor. Next session’ll be my 4th year, Accounting, LASU SPTS. I passed the ICAN ATS 1 exam in the last September diet, not a big deal BUT! It implies that I have a fair knowledge of Basic Accounting Processes and Systems, Business Law and Economics AND I have excellent communications skills. I am an ORACLE Certified Associate (10g, with 11i Financials in view), maybe I’ll be an OCP before July. I can sell ideas and do PR stuff BUT I can’t go around selling products and services, sorry.
I can speak three languages fluently, they include:
1. Good English;
2. Bad English; and
3. Yoruba* and if it counts, I understand little kids too.
I’m a size 16, bespectacled and probably taller than you or YOU (just in case u’re wondering) if any or all of these bother you, then don’t offer me a job.
If you won’t employ me for my skills (or lack of it), then trust your instincts, just go ahead and employ me, I need professional work experience, I am fun to work with and I’ll make the job a whole lot easier AND you can have me for three months (hey! Pervs, I mean TO WORK WITH, get those silly ideas out of your mind)…and you better not be paying peanuts!



Feel free to leave you comments about what kind of jobs you’re offering, TERMS AND CONDITIONS APPLY lol!…thank y’all.



PS: haters, please keep off!!! hatred drools.

What The Grass Said To The Sun.

You give me warmth,
You give me strength,
My blades have turned green,
My tiny flowers red,
And I have formed a capsule of fine seeds.

You are the wet-nurse suckling me,
You are the lover loving me,
You are my second self, aware of my heartbeat;
I have loved you,
Love you,
Shall forever love you.

Winter has come,
With ice,
And snow,
How splendid!
An expanse of brightness,
An expanse of white
But I am locked in the ice
Covered with snow
And cannot see you
Or hear you.

No matter,
There is warmth in my heart,
I am happy,
Protected by the ice,
Enfolded in snow,
I must sleep,
Sleep gently,
Sweetly,
Then all the warmth you have given me,
Will flow into my roots,
And I shall sleep snugly,
Dreaming peaceful dreams.

Next year,
You will bring in the spring;
When that time comes
I shall open my eyes,
Raise my little head,
Stretch my little waist
And smile just as innocently
As I ever can;
With blades greener than ever,
Tiny flowers redder than ever,
I shall look at you and love you.

Next year,
The seeds formed this year will germinate;
They are my children,
Even more your children;
They will smile,
No one, not even I,
Has such an innocent smile;
Their blades will be green,
And no one, not even I,
Has such a red.

When you see them,
Their smiles will intoxicate you
Knowing how I watch you,
Listen to you
And love you
Wet-nurse who suckles me,
Lover who loves me,
My second self, aware of my heartbeat.

Give me your blessing;
Too great a blessing by far,
But gratefully I shall accept it.
And accept my blessing,
Too small a blessing by far,
But still kindly you will accept it.

Such bliss,
Such happiness.
I must sleep,
I am falling asleep,
Already I am dreaming
All is peace…
all is sweetness.




Translated by Gladys Yang.


(Hu Feng, born in 1902 in Quichun, Hubei, is a literary critic, poet and translator. In 1955, he was wrongly accused of being the chief of an anti-party clique and was not cleared until 1980. The case against the so-called “Hu Feng Anti-Party Clique” was wrong. )

Doctor, I need help!

My ‘fast-approached’ exam is no longer news. Yesterday, I decided to hang out more at the library. So, it’s almost noon and after hurriedly escaping all the hi’s and hello’s, I make my way to the library. The first thing I notice is the crowd…then the noise! I’m like WTF is this???
I suddenly understood how Jesus felt when he found people trading in the Temple.
So I glance at the librarian and she’s suckling her screaming three-month old baby …the assistant librarian? He was busy making new friends with pretty girls at the photo-copy corner (by d way, that’s all he ever does since he was employed this semester).
So I’m wondering what good use I could make of this visit, then I remember my headphones in my bag! Off I go to find a comfy seat. There’s one at the corner right in front of the A/C, there’s only one dude there with his laptop. Perfect. I don’t know this guy, so I wasn’t expecting idle chat.
I make my way across the room, spread my books and take out my headphones, thank God for Enya. All is bliss…
But only for a while.
I think I’m hungry!!! Or thirsty? I dunno…but I am uncomfortable. That’s when mint helps me. I have one more Tom-Tom in my pocket, thank God. I tear out the wrapper and then there’s a tap on my back! Ok. Let me just throw this thing in my mouth before I look back BUT out of stupid curiosity, I look.
It’s the laptop guy, he’s saying something and I can’t hear him, so I take out my headphones and I’m like ‘excuse me?’, he points at my hand, oooookkkaaayyy, what’s this geek driving at? You like my hands? My ring? Or what?
‘Excuse me?’ I say, this time, even more sotto voce.
He points again and he says, ‘tom-tom, please’.
I pause, in my head I’m like WTF is this???
‘oh! Okay, but it’s already open’ I say, trying to discourage him.
‘Is that the last one?’ he asks
What am I? Unilever?
‘No’, I lie and hand it over to him.
I don’t even hear a ‘thank you’.
I put my headphones back on and even Enya can’t help me get over the fact that I have to go down 8 flights of stairs to get another tom-tom…but that’s not the real deal, it’s the climbing up part that’s pissing me off.
So, I zone out of this hunger/thirst/anger mood and concentrate on Management Accounting. I thought this book was written in English? Meeennn!
I close the damn thing and pick up Horace’s Satires; I’m not so bored anymore. I read for a while but I can’t stand the rumble in my tummy. I pack my things and by the way, the laptop guy already left (I’m guessing after all the tom-tom melted) without saying goodbye or asking for my name or something (asking for too much?) how do you eat from a COMPLETE stranger? I still don’t get it, pardon me if you do.
I head towards the door, mumble something to the now calm librarian’s baby who was smiling at me, pick up my bag and I’m out!
Phew! What a waste of time.
I’m down one floor already and then,
‘Excuse me?’ oh no! Not now.
‘Yeah?’ looking back, I’m not surprised to see it’s the assistant librarian…this should be easy.
‘My name is Precious’ oookkay, who names a guy ‘Precious’?
‘I do see you around here and I want to get to know you and be your friend’, he continues.
That wicked pang in my tummy again.
‘Precious, I’m in a hurry, let’s be friends tomorrow, okay?’
And I turn my back on him.
‘Ok, see you tomorrow. Shey you name is woomie? That’s what my oga calls you, abi?’
He still doesn’t get it?
‘Okay, tomorrow’ and then I add ‘bye’ like the stupid person I am sometimes.


I get to the school gate and I see this fresher guy in Business Administration that usually runs away from me, or at least that’s what I think. But now, it’s different, he’s walking towards me, ‘Please, can you spare fifty bucks?’
Houston, we have a problem!
I don’t even know your name.
‘Yeah’…I check my purse and hand him a note.
‘Thank you very much’ he nods and vamooses.
It is at that point I take a good look at myself, what is wrong with me today???
Let me stop here, what happened on the bus I boarded home is story for another day.


Doctor, can you please prescribe me something for ass-kissing?

Dear Papi,

You seem to know how to look after yourself

And seem to know how to handle the higher-ups, too.

But take a tip from your insignificant friend,

Who could use a few lessons herself,

But wants to show you the way, blind though she is.

What I have to say may be something you can make use of:

If it is, please do.

For this new invitation that I have chosen to write,

The wish is there…but the skill is not.

I’ve chosen to be the lady again…and you won’t refuse to be the gentleman, or will you?

So my friend, I have decided to post a reply the invitation ‘that YOU will write’

Presumptuous of me, you say???

Why so? Just mind your own business!

My bad! This is YOUR business.

So, you were thinking about a candle-lit dinner at Protea?

I’m sorry, I have a curfew.

And perhaps if I didn’t, I’ll still think it a bad idea,

I have a phobia for bow ties (black ones especially)

One minute into dinner, I’ll take it off,

For fear that you might choke on the spiced lobster,

And now wouldn’t that be odd in that freaky banquet hall?

I buy your first idea of a weekend movie,

I’ll choose that over others on one condition;

-oh! Okay, maybe two conditions!

You do not turn into a critic and compare the movie (that I’ll choose) to the

beautiful plays you so flawlessly write,

And, we pay for each other’s tickets at the box-office.

If you should hang behind, or dash out in front

And think I’ll wait or try to catch up: I won’t.

Should you think of me as the one-eyed, three-legged version of Goro in Mortal Kombat,

You will try hard to make me out to be a fairy princess (a fat one nonetheless) and go through with the date like it was all you dreamed it would be.

Oh! Ok! So you don’t drive?

Not my idea of ‘a more willing Paddy’But it’s not big deal, I don’t drive either.

Have you tried the new BRT?

I haven’t.

Let’s do it on our date.

I choose it over the taxis and hired rides.

Forget about Barceló’s and their silly legend,

When I’m excited, I don’t eat (not even marinated chicken)

On that weekend afternoon when you feel up to it

…when you feel like you need a good laugh,

Call on me,

I am fat, I am fine,

One of Gidi’s sleek, well-cared-for swine.


Now if you have a better idea than this to proffer,

Tell me, old boy.

If not, just take what I offer.





PS: do not for a second think of an ‘after-party’
For I had no prior intention of mentioning you and perversion
in the same breath.
No one-night-stands for Gidi’s sleekest.
What use is it?
A man or woman you won’t remember…
A night you can’t forget.
(…and no twelve month stands either!)
Presumptuous again, you say?
Marvel at nothing.


PPS: I drafted this with the better part of my study time. I am soooo taking you up on this.

In my olfactory opinion...

...you should get treatment or something.
i still don't understand how some people who have halitosis DO NOT KNOW THAT THEY HAVE THE DISEASE. And then they go on and rub this their stupid ignorance in people's faces.
it's more annoying than disgusting...really.
I have this 'friend' that at i one time felt sorry for cuz he had this 'habit' of brushing his teeth 'irregularly' or so i think.
i knew when and how this thing started with his mouth o but then i thought his girlfriend would have been kind enough to point this thing out to him (thru her words, actions or inactions) but it has gotten worse...and i'm annoyed cuz i think he DOESN'T KNOW...DRUMMROLL...or how can i explain his talking straight to my nose and killing me slowly but surely...PLEASE...doesn't he notice how people avoid proximity to his buccal cavity (going Okotieish here...excuse me)
Who will save this my 'friend' from himself first, and then from this disgraceful mouth odor???
Definitely not me!!! He has a girlfriend (Oh! that maybe suffers the disease...now that's one sick-smelly-lonely couple...french-kissing, eeewwww!)...a mother and many 'close friends'...i hate long things.
Tomorrow, i'll buy him the best oral-b toothbrush i can lay my hands on...and drop my dentist's card anonymously...if he doesn't get the drift after that...then 'long live halitosis in my friend' and may it enjoy its reign throughout...(am i being hard on him??? he he)
But then, why shouldn't an adult know what is going on IN and around him?
Talk about self-esteem.
One sad story.



I still can't believe i have less than a week till exams OH!
I'm so loving this blogger...FACEBOOK doesn't give me time to read o! i'm outgrown that crazy addiction...Thank Goodness.


Keep you posted.

This thing called 'German Objectives'

So i got a call from my coursemate over the weekend that this semester's exam time-table's out. i'm like, 'for real?'...'is it signed???' omg. i do not even know what some of the courses are this semester ( oh well! not really) but we CAN'T start exams next week!!! i'm not prepared o ra ra.
Then this morning, this ibo/indain Mgt Acct lecturer walks into the class and he's like, 'heen heen, listen to the nature of your questions(and the whole class falls silent at this sign of 'expo')...all your FMS courses are objs and German Objectives(fill in the gaps)' omg!!! this can't be happening to me o. Obj's r fine, but fill in the gaps??? not for me!!!
how am i supposed to finish a sentence you started on your own? why don't you just be good and let me start mine???
let me go and prepare for this damn thingy...i'm off...to learn how to be a profiler and get into the friggn minds of these examiners.
be right back.

Mr. Biggs’ rice???...not any time soon.

Thunder doesn’t strike twice right??? Hmmnn, it already struck thrice at Mr.Bigg’s.
Something’s up with their cooking these days…the rice is simply uneatable (do forgive me if you think differently)

I’m not really a fan of eating out but I’ve always liked Mr. Biggs’ …not the snacks…just the rice – fried or jollof or whatever they call it sometimes – but I’ve been really disappointed after three recent ordeals with their rice.

First it was at the Maryland branch they served this multi-colored, double-tasting, triple-specie fried rice…I had a lunch date with my bestest friend Keenat and I had decided to buy her lunch that day cuz she almost always has a treat for me, I started with mine first and I tried not to show that it was disgusting, I thought it was just me and I wanted her to just eat her lunch, gist and ignore the appalling fried rice but after she saw and tasted it, she decided she was having absolutely none of it, not even the chicken…I was relieved cuz I didn’t have to stomach it too. We didn’t complain (our ‘unempty’ plates said it all), I for one, do not like long things so I decided to let this one go…with the outstanding goodwill Mr. Biggs’ has.

Three days ago, my sis was admitted to the hospital (story for another post) and I had to sleep over. I’s so famished, I ordered Mr. Biggs’ rice as I had forgiven them for the Maryland drama. This time around, t’was their Warehouse Rd. branch in Apapa…a photocopy of the Maryland product. I was really upset at this stupid takeout but then, what was I to do eh? Go back myself and shout in return for my 500naira or what??? Again, I couldn’t, I completely hate long things.

Then this afternoon, I decided I’ve had it up to here with them…this rice in front of me is no rice at all, worse than that of the Maryland and Apapa branches put together, this one I got at Ago-Okota on my way from school. I can’t describe it; it’ll be a long story.

Exams are coming up and I have got no time to cook, but now I know I must find time, I love my cooking. Is Mr. Biggs’ the only restaurant you ask? It’s the only one I fancy, and wherever I am, there’s Mr. Biggs’…unlike Keenat, I do not really like to ‘discover restaurants’, it’s a rather expensive thingy and me being the jobless student I am, should start to cut my cloth…

Thank you o Mr. Biggs’ for making me hate takeouts (for now)…I will now limit myself to TFC’s yamarita or Barcelós’expensive chicken and chips when I need to give myself a treat.

Please, Mr. Biggs’ do not let the ever-increasing price of rice affect you, do not compromise…all you need do is leave your cost accountant to do his/her job and if you’re lacking one, employ me to help you out…I really really like Mr. Biggs’, you’ve always been there for us little kids from waaay back when we always wanted treats, don’t do this, p-l-e-a-s-e.

Extreme Privacy.

There's this dil with our private hospitals (trying not to generalize here)...they simply refuse to say what's up with you. i dunno...i'm just so fed up.
don't patients have the right to know EXACTLY what's wrong with them???...causes and preventions...why can't these GP's be friends and confidants too(not asking for too much)???
is it like a general thingy or what? they just treat you and get it over with...hhmmmnnn o ga o.
my voice ain't loud at all.
but how do you make them know your health is your business and not justa task they've got to start and finish. it's hard to have your heart in your mouth the whole time...really.
To think that we pay more only for them to keep our problems secret.
if i furnish consideration then i sure as hell must be briefed(fully)...i'm giving that doc a piece of my mind tomorrow o jare.

Paddy, please RSVP!!!

Paddy, you are expected at my house this evening at sunset,

That is, if you think you can stretch out your legs comfortably

On the old fashioned couch that my local carpenter designed for me,

And you can put up with a modest meal served on plain plates.

The wine we will drink is Second Consulate Taurain,

Poured off at Villa Petrinum, near Sinessa,

Below the salt flats of Minturnae.

Or you have a better Vintage to offer?

If so, send it by your boy.

If not, you will have to take orders form me.

My windows have been gleaning for days now, just for your sake

My furniture cleaned up and set to rights.

Drop everything. Those airy ambitions, that drive to make still more money.

Tomorrow is Yar A’dua’s birthday – we’re all excused to sleep late,

To stretch the night with copious talk.

So I will begin the rites, the scattering of flowers.

The drinking – and let you think me unhinged if you want –

What wonders drink can perform!

It unseals the heart,

Tells hopes to turn into facts,

Makes cowards fight,

Takes weight off worried minds,
Teaches new arts.

I take it upon myself to vouch for the following – and do so gladly;

That no tattered linen of mine,

No dirty napkin,

Will make you turn up your nose in disgust;

That the cups and plates reflect your image like mirrors,

That no one is present who will gossip outside about what is said inside.

I’ll invite Michael Jackson and Madonna to meet you,

Add R-Kelly to the list, unless a prior engagement or a slyer girl detains him.

There are enough places for your ‘shades’ (or bodyguards as you might choose to call them)

But when goats get too close together, the air’s a bit thick.

You’ve only to write back how many you want them to be,

Then drop everything: the client you’re supposed to see,

Your business. Sneak out the back. Come to me!

P-L-E-A-S-E R.S.V.P!!!

i'm so sorry.

TK, happy belated birthday.
i have no excuse...i know April 10, it's special...like 4th of July, christmas and new year.
All the many good and bad things that have been happening aren't enough to have made me forget that it was your birthday...i have no excuse
Should you choose to end our wonderful friendship because of my silly mistake...i will understand(even though i may not survive without you)...you win this case in the court of law.
Baby, this doesn't change the fact that i care about you...you know they say it''s the thought that matters.
i said a special prayer for you after you called this morning...God bless you and everything you lay your hands on.
i love you...always have...always will.


PS; PLEASE PICK MY CALLS, DON'T BE SO HARD ON ME.

An effort made for the happiness of others lifts us above ourselves

i found a tiny starfish
in a tidepool by the sand.
i found a tiny starfish
and put him in my hand.

an itty-bitty starfish
no bigger than my thumb,
a wet and golden starfish
belonging to no one.

i thought i would take him
from the tidepool by the sea,
and bring him home to give to you
a loving gift from me.

but as i held my starfish,
his skin began to dry.
without his special seaside home,
my gift to you would die.

i found a tiny starfish
in a tidepool by the sea.
i hope whoever finds him next
will leave him there, like me!

and the gift i saved for you?
the best tha t i can give:
i found a tiny starfish,
and for you, i let him live.



Chicken Soup for the Kid's Soul.



...to my bestest nearest and dearest friend ( u know urself :-) ), you make life easier...something to look forward to. there's so many things i'd do for you, but that's only if i could. may God bless you plenty plenty.
Thank you for you.

i loooove my baby

I remember when my little niece was born five years ago…it was my birthday and I couldn’t be there cuz I was in school. I was sooo excited I talked to God like every minute.
Almost every body didn’t want her (except of course her parents) … they were skeptical but we all had our fears. I trusted God… I believe we all trusted God…to keep her strong and alive and well.
My darling little niece, she has grown up to be a girl I admire…I fear that if I close my eyes for a minute, she will turn into a lady and I will miss out on her childhood.
Just yesterday, she was glued to her daddy’s trousers, wetting her daipers and throwing tantrums…today, she’s reading her literature books like that’s all she cares about. If she had her way, she’d ride her bike halfway round the world, as long the horn worked and she had her little sis in the passenger seat.
My darling little niece, yes, I can spell your name! It’s T-o-l-u …and yes! I can spell the rest too, it’s w-a-l-a-s-h-e…see, it’s easy, it’s T-o-l-u-w-a-l-a-s-h-e…and it’s not just you, mummy and daddy that can spell it, aunt woomie can too…LOL.


I don’t know where she comes up with these questions but she wants to know everything
…and she crawls into her shell like a snail if you think she’s asked a stupid question…my darling niece…

Woomie: sit down madam

T-tolu: what is ABN nooowww???
(Wondering what she’s talking about, she points to the Bar Association sticker on the windscreen)

Woomie: it’s not ABN madam, it’s NBA, it stands for Nigerian Bar Association.

T-tolu: I know, mummy told me it is for lawyers, but what is ABN noooow???

Woomie: it is NOT ABN o, it is NBA ah!

T-tolu: ooh! Go joo, you don’t know anything.

…I decided to let that one go.


Later at home that day, miss smarty pants starts again:


T-tolu: what is BBC???

(Here we go again)
Woomie: it is British Broadcasting Corporation; it is a News TV station.
(i change the station to avoid any world news related queston)

T-tolu: ok, what of D-A-A-R???

Woomie: (mo gbe o!) it is another TV station.

T-tolu: ah! Is it only TV station you know???

Woomie: Is it only TV station that you want to know??? Leave me jare.


(She picks up the Ebony magazine I abandoned on the table)
T-tolu: what is l-o-v-i-n????

Woomie: it is loving. Loving o!
(Trying to concentrate on my company law term paper)

T-tolu: then what is l-o-v-i-n-G?

Woomie: loving, please leave me alone.

T-tolu: ah

(She sighs and goes into the room)

Pphheeewww!!!

Wasn’t that tolu????
Meeennn!

Toluwalashe my bestest little baby, may the good God make your future blindingly bright, may you find favor in the sight of men and in the sight of God. May you grow up to be just the child your mother’d have you be…a good role model for your baby sis.
Make us proud girl, we all love you…I love you…to shreds.

I hate it when...

Strangers go out of their way to brush me...

People touch me unnecessarily...

I have to ride the 'danfo' buses...


I hate it even more when i have to ride the bus with all the lousy, dirty, smelly school kids...

I have to get these 'elders' water to wash their hands after their meals...

I say something and no one believes me...

I get pesky anonymous phone calls and text messages...

People discriminate against others obviously cuz they're poor, underpriviledged or ugly...

There is traffic jam and no one can tell the cause...

People think they can win your heart by buying you ice-cream, snacks and suya...

Something interesting starts on TV and NEPA strikes...

Wannabes call at midnight when the calls are free and have nothing meaningful to say to me...

Its weekend and I have no real plans...

I settle on my comfy bed and one 'elder' calls me to get the remote controls on the table right in front of him or her or turn off the thermostat or the fan or something silly...

I spend close to an hour fumigating my room and I still feel the mosquito bites when I go in thirty minutes later...

People come on TV to promise me a better life...

I feel like i'm stuck somewhere and can't find the right excuse to leave...

people tell cheap 'gsm lies' that are waay to easy to decode...

…I worry about hating all these things...

hooray!!! i'm the April fool

...so everybody i know somehow suceeded in making a fool of me yesterday. The most annoying thing is, i ran out of ideas and so i couldn't trick anyone, not even my four year old niece.
It started first thing in the morning with my mum and went with me thru the day.
A coursemate even made me buy two different newspapers!!! ( EVERYONE knows i never BUY newspaper(s!)I ALWAYS read them all for free, who buys papers when the mag stands are still full???)...that was the one that reeeaaaallly got me.
And, by the way, i thought the whole April fools thingy expired at 12 noon??? almost everybody abused it just to take advantage of moi.
Last night, i swore on scouts honor(LIKE I'M EVEN IN THE GIRLS' GUIDE OR SUMFIN) that it'll be different next year...and i'm going to pay every single person back before the week runs out, why wait till next year??


Anyways, HAPPY NEW MONTH!!! Great things usually happen in April, i know. So have fun and be good y'all.