Generation-Next

Farafina Trust

2010-02-26T16:41:00.001+01:00

Farafina Trust will be holding a creative writing workshop in Lagos, organized by award-winning writer and creative director of Farafina Trust, Chimamanda Adichie, from May 20 to May 29 2010. The workshop is sponsored by Nigerian Breweries Plc. Guest writers who will co-teach the workshop alongside Adichie are the Caine Prize Winning Kenyan writer Binyavanga Wainaina, Chika Unigwe winner of a Rockefeller Foundation fellowship for creative writing, South African writer Niq Mhlongo and celebrated Ghanaian writer Ama Ata Aidoo.

The workshop will take the form of a class. Participants will be assigned a wide range of reading exercises, as well as daily writing exercises. The aim of the workshop is to improve the craft of Nigerian writers and to encourage published and unpublished writers by bringing different perspectives to the art of storytelling. Participation is limited only to those who apply and are accepted.

To apply, send an e-mail to Udonandu2010@gmail.com

Your e-mail subject should read ‘Workshop Application.’

The body of the e-mail should contain the following:
1. Your Name
2. Your address
3. A few sentences about yourself
4. A writing sample of between 200 and 800 words. The sample must be either fiction or non-fiction.

All material must be pasted or written in the body of the e-mail. Please Do NOT include any attachments in your e-mail. Applications with attachments will be automatically disqualified. Deadline for submissions is April 22 2010. Only those accepted to the workshop will be notified by May 6 2010. Accommodation in Lagos will be provided for all accepted applicants who are able to attend for the ten-day duration of the workshop. A literary evening of readings, open to the public, will be held at the end of the workshop.

Gosh...

2009-11-03T15:15:00.001+01:00

I can't keep doing this...

In the spirit of blogville

2009-07-23T16:30:00.003+01:00

In the spirit of blogville

I don’t know if you’ve heard of him, but his work has touched my heart in a way that I may be able to describe –
But not now, that one is story for another day.
Adebanji Adeola Alade can make things beautiful with his pencil and paint brush.
Really beautiful.
Here’s the thing, I want (us) to do something for him in the spirit of blogville.
It’s something most of us have probably not heard about.
Adebanji has been shortlisted for the Great Britons competition again.
Last time, he finished fourth. The judges really like his stuff but the competition is purely a vote-and-win scenario.
If he wins, he'll get a chance to fulfill his dreams of visiting America to paint and sketch scences of New York that he has always imagined in his head.
People haven’t been voting, not because they don’t like his work, or they don’t care but because they haven’t even heard of it!
So, the judges have given him another chance and it’s a big challenge
For Adebanji
For bloggers
and finally Nigerians.
Since when do we ever carry last?
Adebanji Adeola Alade needs your votes, and it’s really simple, log in to www.greatbritons.ba.com/users/1752 and create an account to vote.
If you think it’s a long thing, not to worry, you can vote with your Facebook account, just click on the Facebook icon you see on the page.
Please do what you can to make people know, here in blogville, a quick post with the link will do (esp for those of you that have run out of ideas on what to talk about today.lol) and on Facebook with your status messages! And then on twitter!! And as many websites as possible. PLEASE GUYS!!!
He’s still 6th going by the last ratings, and in less than 5 days the results will be announced.
So what if he wins by a landslide sef? He’s Nigerian after all.
Let the campaign begin!!!

He needs over two thousand votes and I say ‘Yesss! We Can!!!!’

Discovery

2009-07-08T16:58:00.004+01:00

THIS IS A SKETCH...

I don't know how many of you have heard of him.
But this my friend is all that.
And he's been here for a looong time...unnoticed by all!!!!
ADEBANJIALADE.BLOGSPOT.COM
He's THE DISCOVERY.
Check him out ASAP...show him some love.

PS: will do a proper update soon, i've been away for too long.

ISSUES

2009-05-28T07:36:00.004+01:00

I have been putting off updating for yearssss, my thoughts have been a little bit misconstructed or is it unconstructed? (English scholars please help!) at the moment.

So, my babies have driven me to come here and wish them a belated Happy Children’s Day! Here's a special shout out to all my childrenssess, esp Ifeluta, Baby, Tl, Agape and Kanyi (so tell your mothers to get off my back!).

Okay, so what have I been up to? Work, work and more work.

Can you people please help me beg Baba Tayo, he’s the bus driver that takes me and my neighbours to work everyday. You see, I suspect this man works for the devil. I leave home at 5:30 and I don’t get to work till like 7:30! That’s like two hours on the road that just don’t make sense. Why? I’ll tell you why.
1. Baba Tayo stops every 15 minutes to pee and in some cases, poop. He’s a grown man, why can’t he hold these things?!
2. his main aim is to find every possible pot hole in the road and plunge into them, maybe someone has threatened to kill him if he doesn't do this.
3. when vehicles are going bumper to bumper, Baba Tayo searches for the slowest moving lane and joins such lane, if he doesn’t, then there’s a problem somewhere in his head, trust me.
4. he doesn’t remember to strap on his seatbelt until a LASTMA official is around the corner, one day, they held him for hours, I had to find my way to the office without him.
5. the worst one is, he sleeps while on duty. Risking my precious life like it doesn’t really matter.

I have been searching for alternatives, the only one I’ve come up with is buying a Range Rover, and since I can’t even afford even the tyres right now, I’m sticking with Baba Tayo. Remember us in your prayers.

On to another issue, if you didn’t know before, my mother is a primary school teacher. Yesterday, she shared this amazing gist of her Primary 6 students caught in the act. Can you believe it? It was raining and the stupid boy and his senseless girlfriend decided to go for a quickie in the toilet, unfortunately they were caught! The other students spoilt their show. Lol. Senseless and Stupid were sent to call their parents and Senseless denied it saying she was flying the red flag, unfortunately, one of the female teachers insisted on checking her down below, lo and behold! The only liquid soaking anything was her excitement juice! You know what I mean?

I really didn’t know what sex was till maybe after junior high, I never thought of doing it till after senior high…and even now, as old as I am, I still don’t treat my down-below with such arrant carelessness.
Times are changing. We can somehow link this case to the Global Economic Meltdown, now known as GEM. Since the kids can’t go to silverbird and do all the cool stuff that rich kids do, they explored –like the smart kids that they are-and they have found something more interesting than Disney World- s.e.x.!

Hannah is doing very well, thanks to those of you who have been asking after her. She is now officailly a BRAT.

She came 4th in a class of 32 last term! I was so proud of her, the remark on her report sheet said, ‘She has shown a great level of improvement. A good student to emulate in all things’. After I saw that, I bought her a pair of Jesus sandals that she had been going on and on about.
I tell you, this girl is more fashionable than you can think. And one more thing, her English has so improved, you won’t believe she was a village girl just about six months ago. Sometime last week, I said to her ‘Charlie (bdw, she sometimes insists I call her Charlie Champagne, or Charlie for short), come and go and buy salt downstairs’ guess what? She eyed me disgustingly and asked, ‘what is the meaning of come and go and ?’, I was amazed. I have since learned to speak only Queens English to her, whether she understands or not is none of my darn business.

Another thing that I can’t seem to get off my mind is the growing bump on her chest, soon the red bug will come visiting every month…this girl is maturing and she’s too smart for her own good. I don’t know what to say to her that she hasn’t already learnt on TV. Ideas anybody? Please help.

Lastly, I have made a great discovery in blogville that deserves a full single post. Watch this space over the weekend.

WTF RANT.

2009-05-08T16:02:00.002+01:00

Who stole my phone???

Someone took my NOKIA phone at CMS this morning and switched it off...naturally, i'm just going to assume it was stolen, not that some kind man wants to relieve me of the burden of picking my annoying calls.

I'm so burnt.

And why do people keep sneezing around me without covering their mouths???

I'm soooooooo hating!!!!

Arrrggghhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where is He?

2009-04-15T07:21:00.003+01:00

photo courtesy www.felameetsabba.blogspot.com
I haven’t been to church in a while; I haven’t been to church this year. No, it has nothing to do with the fact that churches have now become the fashionistas’ playground, me sef, I dey try once in a while to represent…and the fact that I stopped going is not evidence that I have grown weary of ‘competition’, I didn’t even consider all that pettiness as competition; not at City of David where the only acceptable cars are Hummers, Rovers, Mercedes GLs, EODs and Baby boys, lucky you if you have an Element; not at Daystar where you have to hide your handbag under your armpits if it isn’t Gucci or Guess or Ferragammo or LV and the likes, not at Christ Church or KICC or CICC or CCC or any other C church you can think of where you don’t have to cover your million braids and Take-A-Bow that you fixed at Make Me or Zoom Place.

Yesterday, a colleague at work asked me if I remember to pay tithe at the end of the month, I said to her that I set aside over 10% of what I earn and give it to people that really need it, that I am not one of those who believe in paying my tithe to ‘the church’. She called a meeting of about four people and started preaching to me about the rewards of tithing and first fruits and all. Sadly, I still am not convinced.

She asked me how I think the church pays rent, and fuels its generator, and buys chairs and pays the gateman etc. etc. There was a time when I believed in the church’s needs, when I understood that the church needs my money to survive, but after a while, it became obvious how gullible I had been.

Right in front of my friend’s close is an RCCG, somewhere down the road is another RCCG, and then these two churches, preaching the same sermons, singing the same songs, worshipping the same God, want to pay 1million naira each at the end of the year to their landlords, what manner of giving is that??? By the way, these two churches are not there on their own, somewhere in between the short distance, there are a Foursquare Gospel Church, a Mountain of Fire, a Good News Bible Church, one C&S Bible church and a Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses. In my estate, there is a whole street dedicated to churches, Church Street they call it, I have been there once, and there are about thirty churches there, two or three sharing a building. Every Sunday, you should see the pandemonium! they dance and sing and compete for God’s attention, the same people preach that there is only one God. Which one? Who is right and who is wrong?

If tithing and giving offerings in church was really worth it, I’d go out of my way to give, bountifully even. But why should I pay my tithes to a church that goes on to build universities that over half the members cannot afford to get a degree from? My colleague’s argument was that they need to pay staff and make profit. Make profit! Since when did a church need to make profit??? Another colleague said they need to set standards. My gawd! How can a church of all places (or people?) practice such social stratification? Even the General Overseer openly said (disdainfully if I might add), ‘my school is not for everyone!’ Wasn’t all man born equal? With some luckier than others? Isn’t the church supposed to bridge this gap between the bourgeoisies and the ‘masses’? Isn’t love and oneness the message of the church? What frigging standards?!?

Why should I pay tithes to a church when the pastor openly throws a society wedding for his son that I am way beneath even the littlest person on the guest list? Once I saw a man of God give out his daughter’s hand in marriage and on the high table were traditional rulers displaying their juju, governors who had openly admitted to looting public funds, there were fireworks and the lot. My colleague said, ‘ the pastor is a human being like me and you, he gave up a career to spread the gospel, surely, he should be allowed to give his daughter a befitting wedding if he wants to’, oh well! Not with my money, Hells NO!, what then is the difference between a so-called man of God and a man of the world?

Correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t think that with the numerous numbers of churches in Lagos, only Lagos o, there shouldn’t be this much suffering around, this staggering crime rate, this begging, and this much starvation on the streets of Lagos. As the churches are increasing, so is the poverty I see around everywhere I turn. In Our pastors are too busy acquiring private jets and taking advantage of real estate opportunities in the United States to notice poor Agnes who has been raped and battered and left to rot on the street, or little Tobi whose mother has breast cancer and sits on Cele bridge begging for alms, or this my guy Tony, one-legged, very bright young chap who sits on Cele bridge selling Etisalat and Visafone sim cards, a vital resource well – untapped. The church should notice all these people, but guess what? They don’t… someone else has anyways, Governor Fashola! First, I’ll happily pay my PAYE tax at a whopping 40%, before I pay it to the church, at least our governor is accountable and I can see taxpayers’ money in action, as opposed to seeing tithers’ money in inaction.

I’ll give anything to understand why there are so many Christians around and yet they all refuse to agree that this one God is the same. That he is omnipresent. He doesn’t stay at the Redeem Camp and never leaves, He is not buried at MFM Prayer City, He is alive, He goes before me, He stands beside me, He is in my head and all around me, I don’t want anyone telling me that He is at Kilometer 46 or or 48 or 49 or 40 million Lagos Ibadan Expressway, the God I serve does not permanently reside in camps, He does not restrict himself to kilometers. He is right here, right now.

I know the bible says ‘do not forsake the gathering of the righteous’ but there is so much hypocrisy, so much corruption that I do not know who the righteous are anymore. When people talk about corruption in Nigeria, no one denies its existence or attempts to cover up the extent to which it is found to be in public life, it is there- all too obviously- admitted and deplored, I am just pained that Christians practice and tolerate it to this extent. I still wonder how Reverend King, supposedly sentenced to death by hanging still holds crusades in his church and draws large crowds like water, how the Chosen people believe that theirs is the only God and struggle violently to prove it, why churches use the tithes from its members to sponsor heavily expensive radio and television ads…to draw a larger crowd and more tithes… I long for the day when Christians will really be Christ-like, where men of God will lead by example, where they will demonstrate by their own lives and churches that they will not tolerate hypocrisy.

My God is everywhere; I am not going to Church Street or Kilometer 55 to look for Him. He is in my head and all around me.

Stolen Kisses.

2009-03-30T16:12:00.003+01:00

Why did you let your gaze rest upon me?

What was it you thought you would see?

Why did we open all the doors of possibility?
When we knew that our dreams were far from reality.

You teased me about turning the pages of your heart

And how I swore never to stop the art!

You cleaned the cobwebs on my lips

And oiled them with your kiss.

The kisses, oh the honest deepest kisses!

They felt like answers to lifelong wishes.

And so in our feelings I put my trust

Now it’s all turned into dust – gold dust.

Until the sunny-rainy day we met

I had never known unsatisfaction like this yet.

Because your heart is tied to another

And mine is left to wander.

It’s true there’s no beginning to an end

Only a beginning and an end.

We can try to live without the kisses and hope it will work

But the memories, so vivid, will haunt me – for all it’s worth.

Love struck me, suddenly, like lightening

And I want it to never stop raining.

Just this once I want it all

All the tender loving to make me fall.

It’s you I love – with love so divine

And I feel cursed that you are not mine.

Why did we open my heart with all the kisses?

I feel like I’ve been shattered into tiny little pieces.

Of stalkers, a new friend and an anniversary

2009-03-05T15:34:00.002+01:00

I have put off talking about my new job for a while cuz there are a zillion and one blog followers everywhere in my office!!! Gawd! I always have to look over my shoulders just to post a simple comment...people will do everything to get you off your seat just to find out whodahell you are posting as.

Stalkers! Stalkers!! Stalkers!!! everywhere.

And there is a really serious one who gets on my nerves as hell, but she's my bestestestest colleague, and she blogs as well! Ronke, if you're reading this, I love you! and yes, I give up! This is me...I know it may take a while to find out who exactly you are, even though I suspect you might be Afrobabe, or Temite or even that crazzy LG cuz u really are crazy...and secretive!!!
Anyways, just so you know, I am weary from all the hiding, you've found me out! Phew! Satisfied???? I hate you!!!!
I just hope that when I bitch about work stuff, you won't be a meaner boss than you already are.lol.

All bloggers unite against stalkers!!!!

Anyways, I can assure y'all that as soon as I find out who the hell she is, I'll be spilling like a broken typewriter, just watch this space!!!

MediaNemesis is one!!!! Let's pop champagne again! You know how we do the do!!!

In the usual Blogville style (taking a cue from Don Charzy and Buttercup, Vera and Co.), we ( yes, 'we', I started being a contibtor again today, go check team members)will be doing a question and answer post...bitching about all the posts that get zilch comments, our ups and downs to those who care to listen...bdw, I am at liberty to choose what questions to answer or not.he he ehe!

Saint or Insanity?!

2009-02-18T07:53:00.004+01:00

So the mushy day of the mysterious St. Valentine is over. Clear your eyes. Yes! You and you, and you over there wondering what the hell it is you did last saturday.

I’m really indifferent about the Val’s and all that soppy love wan-tin-tin. Mscheww. I really don’t care. And no, I’m not sad or lonely…or in denial for Pete’s sakes!

There was something peculiar about Val’s this year, maybe it’s because it fell on a Saturday…or because people were actually happy to be distracted by it…something to take their minds off credit crunch and pay cuts and all, who knows?
But really, Val’s was really different in Lagos this year.

Even on Friday at work, I heard ‘there’s a delivery for so so so and so at the reception’ like a hundred times. Cakes, red roses, white roses, chocolates. I ate gladly (noo o! not the roses, I just smelled those ones and gave my fake smiles and congratulations) but frankly, I thought t’was just show-off o! Because, all these adult lovers should have taken full advantage of the day falling on a Saturday and just kept their peace! Instead of sending loud KEEP OFF MY BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND !!! messages to fellow colleagues.

I woke up on Saturday morning to find my inbox full. Some of the messages from family…and some guys who wanted to try their luck with invitations to Bambuddha, Planet One, movies etc , wtf?! Don’t they gerrit? I’m not a fan of St. Valentine! The only invitation I woulda accepted would be to the White House or Turks and Caicos…to be alone for the weekend…or forever sef!

I walk downstairs to buy cereal from my neighbor’s shop in my red flip-flops that she sees me wear every single day and she goes, ‘Ehhh oo! As per lovers’ day, me sef I have already ironed my red hollandias, lemme go and ask my husband how far’ … I just ignored her. Old timer will not keep her mouth shut and just give me cornflakes.

Then my neighbor Ara, whom I used to jog with every morning (before I got a job on ‘the island’ and she got herself pregnant simultaneously) comes over and calls me outta my bathroom like there was some emergency, only to ask me ‘how Val’s go be?’ …shit. I wanted to slap her…but I just considered her bomboy…and the fact that she’s almost a married woman…and that I was naked.

It was ‘water-leaf soup day’ (which by the way was the most exciting thing about Val’s day for me) and I dressed in black and blue to go to the market, another neighbor, a timer as well, accosts me on my way to find out why ‘I’m not wearing red and where I’m going and blah blah blah’. Nonsense old woman!

I walk to the bus stop and I tell you, there’s not a single person who didn’t have a touch of red, I thought to myself, ‘I must have missed the dress code to ‘The Cupid’s Ball for Retarded People’…even the village women selling garri and okra by the road were in red… I wonder who or what was responsible for this massive awareness…we should use these media to communicate to them the need for family planning, causes of HIV, breast and cervical cancer, tuberculosis and a host of other deadly avoidable diseases.

I waited almost 20 minutes for a bus, eventually I got one for twice the normal fare. There was a plastic red rose beside the steering wheel…maybe that’s what I was paying extra for, God only knows.

So so many ‘About-to-wed’ rides everywhere, some pastors/prophets must have promised these couples marital super glue for getting married on Valentine’s Day. Lol.

Omo come see market!!! Stupid plastic and ceramic roses everywhere, cheap I-LOVE-YOU cards and frames and stuff scattered on mats…people scrambling to pick the best of the worst, I just jejely squeezed my way through, wondering what St. Valentine would think of the madness.

‘Buy your plantain ships, buy one chop two, special Valamtime promotion! Na me dey fry am, na me dey sell am, special Valamtime thing!!! Ships here, Ships here!!! Aunty buy o!’ he he he he.

‘Lofas’ Day special, buy two shaki get one ponmo fisi! Na true, take am cook Fal soup! Sister! Sister!! Buy shaki, roundabout, tongue, yansh, leg, ifun, anytin, get ponmo free’ Yee pa!

I walk to my snail customer’s stall and she looks up and smiles and says, ’Happy Fal’s auntie’, I almost walked away, but I thought ‘my water-leaf soup cannot work without the snails’, so I just smile back and buy my stuff.

The woman selling vegetables was something else this Saturday o! She looked like that witch Gaetana from ‘Second Chance’ abi what’s the name of that Mexican soap again? Red wrapper, red lipstic, red beaded earrings and even red eye shadow, I thought to myself, ‘ki lon shele?’. There was no way in the world I was going to buy water-leaf from this woman, I walked round the market and I didn’t see water-leaf, like a prodigal daughter, I came back. The woman gave me extra 300 naira change, when I gave it back, she said ‘ Auntie no vex, na my husband I dey think, na Val’s dey shack me’ and she smiled. I coulda sworn she painted her teeth red as well.

It appeared the snail woman thought I had forgotten to collect my snails, after paying 2k! who on earth forgets that sorta thing?! I heard her shouting ‘Auntie! Auntie! Shey Falantine lo je ke gbagbe igbin yin ni?’ (is it Valentine that made you forget your snail?). I was irritated, she still hadn’t removed the shells, which was the reason why I had left it with her before.

The journey back was terrible, mad hold-up, double transport fare, the conductor kept hissing and asking no one in particular, ’shey Falamtime lo fa gbogbo eleyi ni?’ (Is it Valentine's Day that caused this one?) I tried to stop myself from laughing.

I have never celebrated Val’s day (except mandatorily –at college once and twice in church), last year, I picked February 14th to take my Oracle Certification while half the world was engulfed in sin and the other half was doing whatever they were doing ‘legally’. If the government made the day a public holiday, I may be more siked about it, but until then, I don’t see anything special about it. I mean, even my parents went out together, my mother forming that she was ill that she needed to go to the clinic, only for them to come back with ice cream and pizza. Mscheww, agbayas.

Val’s has come and gone, some people have broken up because of what happened on Saturday, some girls will end up with unwanted pregnancies or worse still HIV and some kinds of STDs, some men will end up with reduced or no savings, while some people’s love will grow and wax stronger after this year’s Valentine’s Day. As for me, I remain the same.

Let’s look for something better to hype now, like my sister STANDTALL!!!

I killed her on the 13th.

2009-02-13T13:36:00.003+01:00

Hi blogville.

So friday the thirteenth is here again. I remember my post on this 'special' day of the week a while back.
But I discovered something recently that makes me believe that the day is might really be jinxed.

I was still fresh in blogville when i put up the I killed her post, but recently, I came across my school report card and found out that everything happened on a Friday the 13th. Maybe the myth is true, maybe it isn't. But the thing that changed my life in more ways than one happened on this day. I believe. So, I've decided to share the post again.

Friday, May 2, 2008
I killed her...

IT'S WHAT I THINK.
I was going on 7 (or was i going on 8 at that time????, the memories get more and more hazy)
A few years earlier, we'd just moved to a more secure neigbhourhood. Everyone (i mean my sister and brother) liked their new schools, except me. The kids were mean, the lunch was terrible and the toilet was an eyesore. I was a smart kid, and they hated me even more.
I had no friends, i always thought it was because i hadn't gotten my school uniform yet so they didn't see me as one of them...yet. Not long after i started this new school, we had a 'newer'-comer in our class. I remember vividly how she looked on her first day, just like me, she had one of those aunty-give-me-cake gowns, church shoes and her hair was tied up in rubber thread.
'Class this is 'Anthonia', welcome her' then the bunch of mean kids mumbled something and she got the empty seat on my bench...misery loves company. I remember this day vividly, i don't care how many pranks my mind plays on me. I made a friend that day. She was born in July, just like me. We were the same size, same height, same complexion. We only had different faces. We'd sometimes lie that we were sisters. The kids at school weren't so mean anymore, and if they were, we didn't care.

It didn't take long for me to discover how incredibly smart Anthonia was. Together, we'd decide who we wanted to come first and second on the tests and exams. We never really competed for first and second positions in our class, my parents didn't mind when i came second and she came first (and neither did her's) , better her than someone else. I remember she didn't have a father. I remember telling her we could share mine, and we did.

We were funny kids, stars of the teaching-staff room. I remember there was a fish tank in that office. Every afternoon at lunch break, we'd go in there and feed the fish, it was a goldfish. We'd crack jokes everytime about how we wanted to taste the fish and all. Anthonia knew how to laugh. I remember her laughter, it was deep, shrill, intense, always with tears in her eyes. We had no worries, never threw tantrums. We had fun.

Everyday after school, we'd walk down a few blocks to my house where her mum usually picked her up after work. While we waited for four o'clock for NTA to come up, we'd play all sorts of games, I remember it was she who taught me how to skip, and she was my hero when it came to 'ten-ten', she always won when we played 'catcher' and whenever we got tired, we'd sit in the house and watch VOLTRON- defender of the universe or Power Rangers till her mother came, sometimes, she'd sleep over.

I remember we loved to drink garri. We did it everyday, with groundnut. They called us Woomie-Epa and Toni-Epa.

Joker-Jellies were in vouge. My mother got us each a pair, one blue pair and one pink pair. (We pioneered that foot wear in my neighbourhood.) It was hard for us to choose, they were both beautiful. I took the blue anyways but when we ran errands, we'd exchange right legs so we'd each have a blue leg and a pink leg. It pissed my mother off all the time, but we'd still do it when she wasn't looking.

It was the end of the school year and her mother told me they were moving again. I had no idea what it meant at that time so i remember NOT remembering.

We'd tied at first position that term. I remember we weren't too excited, we'd already gotten used to it. I remember the walk home that friday afternoon, the Jumat service going on in the mosque about two blocks away. We always stopped for a while to watch them bow and chant, this day was no different, i recall. There were always arabs and other 'onyibos' there on fridays, Anthonia and i liked to stare at them.

We got home that afternoon and decided on a game of 'catcher'. I was a lazy child, i always turned the game of 'catcher' into another game of 'hide-and-seek' whenever it was my turn to be chased, I remember that was why she'd never let me catch her. I got tired of chasing and i wanted garri and groundnut as usual. We walked towards the gate together, i remember the shop where the groundnut was sold, right opposite my house. I remember shoving her that day, and'i've caught you!', 'i've caught you', 'go and buy the groundnut and come and catch me back'. Mad at my sudden victory, she raced towards the shop, backing the road and screaming at me. I remember that road, it wasn't a busy one.
As i closed my eyes and stood there thinking of which 'hole' to go and hide this time,i heard the tires sreeching (i still hear them now). I opened my eyes and stood there paralysed, i couldn't see Anthonia, people had gathered around the front of uncle Jimi's car, i keep thinking that if there had been less people there that day, i'd still have Anthonia. I heard the shouts and screams of the women (i still hear them now), still i couldn't move. I remember Uncle Jimi lifting her to the car, then i saw her face, she looked strange, there were tears in hey eyes, almost as if she was laughing. I knew it took the last bit of strength in her, but Anthonia kicked off my blue foot of Joker-Jelly, like she knew i'd get in trouble for it. Still, i couldn't move, i didn't care about it or any other thing at that moment. I just stood there, still, minutes after the Uncle Jimi drove off.
I remember it was my Aunt who came and picked me up from the gate. I remember i didn't talk for days. I remember not drinking garri or eating groundnut for a while.
I remember nobody talked about Anthonia ever again. I know they all think i can't remember. But i see that day everyday. I see her everyday. And sometimes, i talk to her, i know it's only me in the dialouge, but still, it feels good.
I have NEVER opened my mouth to talk about Anthonia to my mum or anyone (maybe i never will), I always write about it and then tear up the paper. I can't tear this up, I know she deserves to be remembered.
I don't know if she survived, if they moved or if i'll ever see her again. A part of me tells me I am me today because she happened to me ( i never would have mastered my 13-15 times table if it wasn't for her)
I never played 'catcher' or 'hide-and-seek' ever ever again. I hate those games.
I love my friend Anthonia, she's like my super-ego now,
I love the memory of her,
her laughter,
her tears,
and the Joker-jellies.

The real deal; two truths, one lie.

2009-02-05T08:13:00.002+01:00

So, it’s time to say what’s true and what’s false.
First, I must confess that I’m really disappointed that not very many of you can vouch for ability to stay celibate abi what’s the word again???

No. 1 is a lie, I don’t have three blogs…they’re actually four. Tricky.

No. 2 is true, sometimes I have fantasies of ménage a trois or ménage a cinq (lol), and I certainly don’t want all four others to be men…variety is the spice of life. In my fantasies!!! FineboyAgbero, exschoolnerd etc, don’t start getting any crazy ideas.

No.3 is so true, I haven't gotten some in a long while, I plan to do something about it ASAP, that’s why I’m updating o, so it doesn’t turn into two lies and one truth. He he he.

That aside, I’ll like to make a toast to Chari and Buttercup!!! For seeing what was there all along!!!

I’ll be back soon…

A quick update.

2009-01-24T18:42:00.002+01:00

A Non-Governmental Ogranisation in Lagos is opening a scholarship program for gifted primary and secondary school students. The applicants must;

1. be from single-parent (widows, widowers, jilted mothers or fathers etc) homes;
2. have an average of at least 70% in their past school report sheets;
3. have a well established need for the scholarship i.e parents must be able to prove their financial constraints;

if you know anyone that fits this description, please help send applications to sosowoomie@gmail.com, on or before Thursday 29th January, 2008.

Applicants will be interviewed and shortlisted afterwards.

Spread the word please.

ps; i still owe y'all the two truths and one lie, i haven't forgotten. i'm just taking my time.

Plenty ishes...

2009-01-06T16:48:00.002+01:00

Happy New Year blogville!!!!
I can't believe I haven't been here this year, it feels like I've been away since forever.
So, first things first, but not necessarily in that order, I have got a new job!!!! (eh o! I'm trying to sound important, saying 'new' like I had an old one before lol.) God is merciful, he brought me blogville and it feels as though blogville is solving all my problems...making me smile all the way. I published my unemployment status here on my blog and a stranger helped me, a stranger because even though we talk and gist and leave comments on eachother's blog, we hadn't met in person. God bless my helper, whoever you are, you know yourself.
The job is all I dreamed it would be, even though it's a 6-month internship program, for me, there's no better way to start.
I'm going to dedicate a whole post to issues and happenings on the job.lol.

I was at Poetry Potter a while back, an overhyped event ...boring ish. But t'was swell for me cuz I got to meet with my virtual friend Naughty Eyes. We didn't have time to gist for long, NE if you're reading this, you shouldn't have left town without doing everything in your itinery!!! And i'm hating you at the moment.

This is a really really ooold ish...that I should have shared since last decade...saoory, year. I broke off my engagement to Mr.-who-I-thought-was-right about three months ago. Life has been swell, so don't y'all go off with your 'ooohs!!!' and 'aaahs!!!' It felt like good riddance! except for the fact that he's back....I mean , wharrahell!!! why do guys like to do this??? cause confusion anyhow...as iffff!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This one is a really long ish, I should dedicate a whole post, special titles and pictures to it.he he he.

ok! what else is new??? eeerm, I got tagged!...by MN
here are the rules:

a. Tell three things about yourself, two should be true and one a lie.

b. Commenters should guess which two are true and which one is a lie and tell why they think so.

c. Tag 6 people to do the same.

d. Post the answers in your next blog, but only after you have a good number of comments

TWO TRUTHS AND ONE LIE.
oookay.

1. i have three blogs, well visited by everyone of you reading now. but y'all have no idea. Talk about MPD. (lemme make it easy for you.no, I'm not Vera Ezimora)

2. in my fantasies, i like to involve both sexes, variety i call it. Maybe I'm heterosexual, maybe I'm not.lol

3. i haven't had sex in about a year...no i'm not a virgin.

i tag... i have no idea...
ok I tag
1. exschoolnerd

2. felameetsabba

3. vera

4. Isi

5. standtall

6. laspapi

This Christmas.

2008-12-25T15:38:00.004+01:00

My grandma died on December 25th. of cancer. breast cancer.
I wasn't even born then.
But I miss her. I miss her, even though I don't know her, I can see what her absence does to my dad at Christmas.
I know he remembers the pain, the fight, the tears. And he can't smile genuinely, he can't laugh from deep in his stomach like he usually does, I miss that.
I miss my grandma.

This season sucks...somehow.

I don't like the new year's day either.

My uncle died on a 31st night. People had said that he wouldn't see the new year. I wanted to prove them wrong.
I did everything to prove them wrong. I had recently given my life to God at the time, I prayed and fasted and cried. I loved my uncle, I'ld choose him over my dad sometimes, that's how close we were. That's how much I loved him. I never worried about birthday cakes, holiday trips, pocket money, anything, he was always there. I'd always thought that if anything ever went wrong, I had him, I was secure. We were all secure.

For months, the doctors still couldn't get a proper diagnosis, they concluded that it was a spiritual attack, so I prayed and prayed. I didn't believe that someone somewhere could have made juju to hurt my uncle, my uncle had a large heart. He loved everyone. But relatives were dropping names and blaming juju. I didn't believe it, but I prayed and prayed.

Nothing happened, I even turned to Islam, I was confused , I did everything I could. He had to see the new year, I promised God anything; my womb, my brain, my legs, my hair, anything, just to save my uncle. I was 14. I was confused.

When my cousin called at a few minutes to midnight on the 31st. I just knew. Everything was a blur, my mother weeping like a baby, my father shivering and screaming, my brother crying and sniffing and not taking it like a man, my sister tearing out her hair and sweeping the whole sandy compound with her body, down to the main gate, back to the door, then again and again...I didn't try to stop her. I just stood there. I had never seen anything like that before.

I was in shock, and so, I couldn't cry. I picked my scarf, and went to church. I had questions. I still have those questions. I couldn't cry. And I couldn't bring myself to attend his funeral. I couldn't say goodbye, I can't.

I don't like death. I don't like what it does to me. And I don't understand why it happens on the wrong days, holidays, Christmas, NewYear's, Easter, birthdays, Children's Day, days that i want to be distracted but cannot...because the government says to me, 'SAY AT HOME AND MOURN!'. I don't understand. Why it sometimes takes away the people that I love. Why I can't cry about it, even though I hear that it helps to cry. Why I try not to love because I have abandonment issues. Why I love anyways. It scares me. It annoys me. And I try to be strong about it.

Sometimes, I wonder what it will feel like to cry about these things. I have tried. Tears are not enough. Prayers weren't enough. Better to save your strenght.

This season sucks. Even though it doesn't always happen like this every year, this is one of those years, I guess. Amongst other painful things, these are the scenes, the memories that I can't get out of my head.

So, everybody sweats me to share, that it helps. This is the best I can do as far as sharing goes. And I feel as though it hasn't helped.lol.

*clears throat*
In the general spirit of Christmas, we have prepared an itineray for our dear *whispers* less priviledged blogfam member, Nauhty Eyes. Please follow this link to see how involved you are, cuz, trust me, you are. rotflamfao! It promises to be fun.

And by the way, I spoke with buttercup yesterday!!!! *whispers* she's in town. She doesn't want the sharp sharp pictures of her out, but I'll put them up to piss her off anyways. LOL.

Merry Christmas!!!!

Eko Dialogue.

2008-12-12T19:06:00.005+01:00

I was at the last Writers Anonymous meeting and I had a swell time.
Met a couple of great people... A lot of interesting topics were discussed...there's no valuing what I learned in that single day.

There was a short book reading by Joy Isi Bewaji from her new book Eko Dialogue. I really like the book, it's what I'ld call a good investment. And it's a finishable kinda book, to all of you who are scared of epistles, go out and get a copy ASAP!!! Seriously.

Here's my simple review of the book:

'Unputdownable from start to finish! Short, rare and true. It is a believable book that depicts the typical Lagos life. The final chapter is almost the essence of the book, the missing piece that you didn't even notice was missing. As far and as captivating as short stories go, Joy Isi Bewaji had done it!'

By the way, Joy is a blogger! She is at isi's playground. Just in case you didn't know.
Eko Dialogue is a book you can offer your guests when you run out of food and drinks! You won't be accused of being a terrible host, trust me.

Go out and get a copy!
Call the number (+234) 0702 808 9176, for purchase and delivery information.
And if you have a copy, spread the word! There's need for people out there to know that some Nigerians can write good short novels, let's put an end to mediocrity!

PS:hey! I've been trying to upload photos from behind the scenes of the Sharp Sharp video, but it's taking forever. It will be posted soon, definitely before the video is released.lol.

Off to do my blog rounds!

SharpSharp!

2008-12-10T18:24:00.004+01:00

So the shoot is wrapped!!!
Now all y'all should just wait for the video!!!
And, remember I told you to watch out for buttercup???

Will post more pictures soon, they're alot and they're really large...so watch out!

Go out and get a copy of Eko Dialouge!!!! Bloggers outside Naija who want a copy of Eko Dialogue should watch this space for more info! or go to Isi's Playground

Will be right back! Promise.

Always on my mind.

2008-11-19T15:14:00.004+01:00

Out of NO TIME I'm stealing time to update. School resumed and I kinda missed two weeks of work, so I'm trying to catch up. It sucks...badly.
I miss you all sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much. It might have been easier to keep in touch if my darn computer hadn't picked the worst time to crash. It felt like someone really close to me died. Really bad.
Bdw, who has missed me sef???
Bunch of bad people, y'all.
I wish I could do my blog rounds...but I have to read SAS 1 - 30, I'm working on three to five every week, in between my novels and magazines and all... I like the course though, but the lecturer is M.A.D.D.D.D, plus he has a thing for me, if I ain't giving him some loving, I might as well work on getting me the strongest A ever.
Please remember to pray for me o!!!! I don't know how my job thing is going.
Adorable, I owe you big time o!!!!
I'll be in touch with blogville somehow...if my sis doesn't kill me this afternoon for wearing her slippers and jewelery to school...or if the Accounting Theory lecturer doesn't corner me and rape me to death tomorrow...lol.
One.

PS: about the picture, my friend Rex signed on with this new record label in SA, his group (of two) PINCODE has a new album coming out soon...the hit song Sharp-Sharp is to-die-for!!! Look out for the video! it's being shot in SA at the moment (I hear buttercup is adorning a thong in the video!!!!ohh la la J.K.). It's Bravo baby!!!! You heard it here first!!!!!

Mr. Federal Government.

2008-10-30T08:47:00.003+01:00

Mr Federal Government,

I know who you are, I see you everyday,

Everywhere I turn

there's a picture of you,

Everything I touch already has your mark on it.

Mr. Federal Government, I am not happy with you,

I bear a serious grudge against you,

I know it might not bother you,

I'm just one in a million,

but my one means alot.

Not a day goes by that you don't make me want to cry.

Mr. Federal Government, what did I ever do to you???

I stay up most nights thinking about you,

it's too hot to sleep,

What can i do to make you forgive me???

I need my sleep,

sometimes, a tiny tomato light is all I need,

to power my ceiling fan,

and have a good night rest,

but you hold onto the power,

you hold onto it like your life depends on it,

Mr Federal Government, you are so spiteful.

I ask myself over and over again,

'what did I ever do to you?'

When you needed my support,

I was there for you,

I helped you up the ladder,

how can you pay me back with such hatred???

Mr Federal Government, my school is literarily just a stone throw away,

but the road is really tiny,

every time I ride the bus

I run late,

every day the road gets smaller, it seems,

Mr. Federal Government, I HAVE to go to school,

so I risk my precious life everyday,

riding a bike, that feels like a lear,

I HAVE to go to school,

I HAVE to make all your wrongs right someday.

What did I ever do to you????

You don't care about my health,

I could as well be dead,

the other day I needed an appendectomy,

I ran to you for help,

but I couldn't find you,

then I ran to Lagoon,

Mr Federal Government, they made me wait,

they made me wait to fill out forms,

to arrange a payment plan,

I was in pain,

it was an emergency!

You weren't there for me,

You were in Germany,

doing your monthly check-ups

(do you have cancer?)

what would it cost you to insure my health?

You promised to care for me,

I haven't been bad,

what are you punishing me for???

Mr Federal Government,

what did I ever do to you???

it's getting harded to feed,

the prices are sky rocketing

and I am afraid,

We are all scared,

For our fried and jollof rice,

we now use garri,

of course you don't know how it tastes,

you are busy with your super, lower, semi and lesser hajj,

jet fuel abusing around the world.

I never had to worry about food

till you came around.

Everyone is complaining,

yet you're busy shuffling and re-arranging your cabinet,

Mr Federal Government, are we going to eat your ministers eventually?

I don't know what my baby sister would have done for school,

but thank God for Mr. State Government,

he is a better man than you.

Mr Federal Government, what CAN you do to make my life more comfortable?

I ask because, you haven't given me water,

you haven't given me food,

I have to work extra hard to clothe myself,

to buy feul that provides my own electricity,

I can't wait for you anymore,

on my own, I am trying,

I am trying to give my baby sister a decent life,

I am trying to make her happy,

I'm trying to make her a better person,

I don't ever want her to feel this hatred that I feel,

it's not a very good feeling.

I will continue to try,

I will try to be happy,

to spite you.

Mr Federal Government,

tell me, what did I ever do to you???

This thing between you and me,

it's personal.

I am not the 'Masses'

I am Woomie,

I helped you up,

with my sweat,

with my blood!

This thing between you and me,

it really is personal,

I am not a hateful person Mr. Federal Government,

but I won't sit back and watch you cheat me,

tell me what it is

that you seem to be punishing me for,

your seven-point agenda that I supported?

or your vision that I believe in?

It has been almost two years,

and look how you have paid me back!

You know what?

Mr Federal Government, I don't care anymore,

I think you're an ass.

I'm here!

2008-10-25T16:06:00.003+01:00

Count your blessings...see?! They're a lot.

2008-10-08T20:10:00.007+01:00

So I've been sitting at home, depressed, complaining about having no money and all...stupid me!
This morning, I woke up and the first thing on my mind was 'Gosh! I'm dead broke!'
I completely hate being broke...maybe not hate...I fear being broke. I was busy counting my twenty twenty naira here and there, searching my dirty clothes for fifty naira here, hundred naira there. You see, I've been saving this 4k in my bag for like a week cuz my cream is finishing...
I just thought of diping my hand in the money to buy art supplies when my dad started screaming my name up and down the house. 'Oooohhhh God! What naow??? This man should leave me alone jare', Maybe God can touch his heart to raise me o!, so I literarily fly to the sitting room and I give him my most charming Cinderella look ever, the man didn't even look face at all, 'look, today , you are going to cook gbure for me, and small buy elubo too. The food better be ready when I get back' ope o! at least I can gain like 1k if I pinch money for soup and amala.Lemme still try my luck sha. 'Ahem! Daddy, there's something I want to tell you' He gives me his Tony Montana look and is like, 'look Woomie I'm late for work, shey you can see the rain, when I come back', Chei!, 'Errm wait now daddy, it's about that thing I told you before ...', cuts in, 'I know, Cambridge Pronounciation Dictionary, I haven't forgotten o madam' *hiss*, 'No o, its...' cuts in again, turning the lock,' What? you don't want it again??? Wo, leave me jare lemme go', hesitate a second, 'I still want it, it's just that I'm, eem, I'm broke' then I turn to run away while he pretends to be shocked, he turns around to the calender, 'You're a joker! I don't owe you any money until, wait first, five...six...seven...eight...eem em em, look, I don't owe you any money until Saturday, now let me pass abeg abeg!' Eh God o! I reload my Cinderella look and as he dips his hand into his pocket and brings out two 1,000 naira notes, my antagonist sister appears out of the blue! shit! this girl is fond of this thing, I do all the hard work and she comes in at the last minute to share the money with me 50-50, I couldn't complain sha. 'Gee, thanks dad, don't forget the dictionary o!' I shout as he goes down the stairs, ' You're not serious.That's the money I just shared for you two o!' eeerrm, warreva! i know he's kidding.

Anyways, I'm about two or three thousand naira richer...then my cousin in FCT calls and he gives me the pin for a Presto (Bank PHB's local money transfer) worth 6k that he'd sent yesterday, is this my luck day or what???he he he.

So, I set my alarm to 12noon and log onto facebook...I tell you, I didn't stand up till I heard the alarm go off...the curse of Facebook.

I pick my wallet and my Bagco bag...off to the market!

I was busy doing my do, pricing snail here, fighting tooth and nail to get the deal of a lifetime with my Shaki and brokoto for 800, I can not fit to touch my gain o! Anyways, I finallydecided to bone cow leg and just buy Shaki, money no reach for all that kain thing, not if i still intend to gain my 1,500 gerege. I almost forgot to buy pepper sef! The pepper cost no be small o, after grinding 300 naira pepper, I couldn't even find it, anyways, I decided to complement it with Cayenne pepper and crayfish, I usually like to grind this mixture at the market, so I moved to the nearest stall to grind my thing then I notice the guy there looking a teeny weeny bit uneasy, of course!!! I recognise his face!!! This guy's in my department, here he is, grinding dry pepper in the market, now this guy is one brilliant chap, he looks at me to see if I'm a bit disgusted or pitiful or something and then tries to explain himself, 'Woomie, this is where I am o. You know, erm eerm, *scratching his head* (i'm like wtf! in my mind. guy, you don't owe me an explanation at all) all that money for handout and textbook and sorting, I get it from this my small grinding machine', 'Eeeiyaa', I reply o ma se o, eerrmm what was I supposed to say??? Desperately trying to change the subject I ask him one or two things about the current happenings in school, this is one guy I would normally not chat with in school, all we say is hello, good morning, can I please join your group for so so so and so course or something?, cuz he's a bit of a ruffian in school and I no want wahala for myself, so chatting with him was a tad bit weird. Eventually, we had this usual moment when one person heaves a sigh and the other responds with another sigh and then someone changes the subject with a stupid or irrelevant question, his was, 'Ah! did you come to the market???' no o ode, I'm just inspecting Governor Fashola's work in progress around Lagos' 'eem, yes, I just came to buy food stuff' I reply, faking a smile. 'So, do you want to grind pepper???' for a second I thought of lying and running the hell out of there, t'was getting really weird . 'yes, thank you', he grinds my pepper and tries to refuse my money, of course he hadn't seen what I was offering him, then he looks at my hand and he's like, 'Ah! I don't have that kind of change o', 'Don't be silly, you you think I'm offering you these two notes because you blended this tiny pepper for me? Take jare just to hold body and soul together, don't cause a scene here' he grabs the notes, grining from ear to ear, 'thank you o Woomie, thank you very much, Ah! God bless you! May God replenish your pockeks, May God she kini kan she kini kan...' so much for avoiding a scene 'Ok o eerrm eerm, shey your name is Emmanuel??', 'No, it's Emeka, thank you o! thank you!' o ga o, there goes my gain, and then some. But it did feel good to see the guy smile so hard, how can someone sit under that kinda sun and make roughly 16o naira everyday (on a good day, according to him) only to go to school and buy thousands of naira worth of unnecessary handouts and texbooks in order to avoid carry-overs??? What a life!

I just realised that, for me, being so broke ain't really that bad, I don't have to pay my bills or buy my own books all the time, I have my dad, cousins and aunties, and they're always touched by my fine-bara, you see, I always try to rotate it so that one single person doesn't feel like my own is too much. The trick really works. I'm blessed. And I will feel even more fufilled if and when I get a job in the next few weeks.

My water-leaf soup turned out soooo so well, I'm sucha great cook o guys! Not like I'm bragging or something, I'm just saying.

Shout out to Poeticallytinted, that's one blogger that really helped with my last post! You really rock!!! Thank you all (except NaughtyEyes, don't let me catch you o). All the advice has really really helped, I'm working on it. Be good and abound y'all.

CRYING OUT LOUD: I need some form of employment.

2008-10-05T11:21:00.002+01:00

I did this post a while ago and got not positive answers, so out of desperation, I'm doing it again...you blggers better not make mad fun of me this time around, it's really not funny anymore.

Why aren’t there any 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! Nigeria, is that too much to ask? I cannot stand the thought of doing absofrickinlutely NOTHING everyday in the next few weeks. 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, a new p.c, 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? 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, 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); still afraid to take my OCP certification. I can sell ideas and do PR stuff BUT I can’t go around selling products and services, sorry. But! there's not a lot that I can't do, really.
I speak three languages very well, 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 (preferably as a junoir DBA), I am fun to work with and I’ll make the job a whole lot easier AND you can have me in the next few weeks (hey! Pervs, I mean TO WORK WITH, get those silly ideas out of your mind)…and you better not be paying peanuts! Please, I hate to wear shoes!!!! Don't make me dress "corporate"-whatever that means.

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

Include me out of it!

2008-09-24T10:09:00.003+01:00

I am appealing to Exschoolnerd and that Charizard of a blogger to N.O.T cast me as a razz/fat bitch or something silly in their crazy and hilarious Charizard and Exschoolnerd Show! I am the Executive Producer, but the both of them are too ungrateful to admit it. I've learned my lesson.lol.
If you guys can't cast me as a princess or a queen, just include me out of it!
I know I'm being dramatic, but those two don't like me, I know...they'll cast me as someone really really silly.

I love blogville.

I love everyone here.

Life here is great, fun, downright exciting. Nothing like my real life at the moment...sadly.

I think of how I woulda survived without y'all and I just can't imagine.

Anyways, for lack of better things to do, I visited my darling blogger friend's old blog at her Xanga page, and I'm loving her even more.

I found this Four Layers Survey and I just decided to do it for fun. So here goes:

10 LAYERS SURVEY

LAYER ONE: ON THE OUTSIDE
Name: Woomie
Birth date: July 4th.
Birth place: Juneau, Alaska...kidding, Lagos, Nigeria.
Current Location: lagos-Nigeria.
Eye Color: brown
Hair Color: brown
Righty or Lefty: Both, I can write, sweep, type, cook and do everything with both hands. But my right is my favourite.

LAYER TWO: ON THE INSIDE
Your heritage: African
What Shoes Did You Wear Today: my bathroom slippers, not going anywhere....and I hate shoes bdw.
Your weakness: I'll have to say fine guys.
Your fears: Premature death, rejection, embarrassment amongst other things.

LAYER THREE: YESTERDAY, TODAY, TOMORROW:
Your most overused phrase: ...eh hen!
Your thoughts first waking up: What time is it? I need to wake Michael!
Your best physical feature: my eyes, my legs.
Your bedtime: varies...
Your most missed memory: my days in boarding school.

LAYER FOUR: YOUR PICK:
Pepsi or Coke: Coke.
Single or group dates: single dates
Adidas or Nike: erm, not a fan of any one.
Lipton Tea or Nestea: not a fan of either one.
Chocolate or vanilla: chocolate
Cappuccino or coffee: Cappuchino

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?
Smoke: NO!
Cuss: yeah, everytime I'm broke, NEPA strikes, the kitchen is messed up Or someone touches my books.
Single: no.
Have a crush(es): Paddy Adenuga, Don Jazzy, T-Pain...and one blogger that I will fail to mention.
Do You Think you've been in love: yes, I've found IT.
Like(d) high school: Yeah, especially my three years in senior high.
Want to get married: Definitely maybe.
Believe in yourself: almost always.
Get motion sickness: yes...after a long while.
Think you're a health freak: Me ke? No o.
Get along with your parents: Not really, but I really adore my dad.
Like thunderstorms: like wetin??

LAYER SIX: IN THE PAST MONTH
Drank alcohol: no
Gone on a date: Yes.
Gone to the mall: Yes.
Been on stage: Yes.
Eaten Sushi: For where?
Been dumped: Nope.
Gone skating: Yeah.
gone skinny-dipping: how na?
Dyed your hair: Yeah.

LAYER SEVEN: HAVE YOU EVER
Played a game that required removal of clothing: he he! noo.
Gotten beaten up: yeah, my sis is a bully.
Changed who you were to fit in:Not at all.

LAYER EIGHT: GETTING OLDER
Age you hope to be married:I have no idea man, but really really soon.
Numbers of Children: 8 (I don't necessarily have to bear all 8 of them)
Describe your dream wedding: quiet, few guests (maybe 40 or less),definitely memorable
How do you want to die: haven't really thought about it yet.
What country would you most like to visit: Turks and Caicos Island...Musco, take note.

LAYER NINE: IN A GAL/GUY
Best hair color?: black.
Short or long hair: depends on how he looks...
Height: I always thought t'was important but i found out I didn't care...as long as he isn't a dwarf.

LAYER TEN: IN THE NUMBERS
Number of people i can trust: trust with what? I can't really think of anyone.
Number of CD's I own: alot...but they're being gradually fapped.
Number of piercings: 2
Number of tattoos: none...plan to draw one pretty soon.
Number of times been on T.V.: 5
Number of times my name has appeared in the Newspaper: 2
Number of scars on my body: about 6, one major one on my belly.
Number of things in my past that I regret: so many...I think the most important one is playing the game of hide and seek as a little girl.

So that's it.
Anyone who's bored can partake in the survey, will be looking forward to some interesting answers.

By the way, Hannah Montana started school on Monday and she's sooo alive, as in really excited. She can't stop talking about it. Everybody in her class(Primary 4) speaks English so she told me (in youruba) that she's working hard on learning the language three times faster than normal so she can fit in.lol.
By the way, the girl came home from school yesterday and told me her teacher asked them to bring cutlasses today to clear the bush in the school compound! For what??!!!. The girl that cannot even handle broom and sweep very well.
I told her to tell her teacher that she has no need for cutlasses, and that she shouldn't make me come and visit her in that school.lol.
This is the orisirisi we will be seeing because we cannot afford to send her to Corona or Greenwood House.Shio.
I'm really pissed.

School is resuming soon!!! I already forgot that I'm still a student o! He he.

Be good and abound y'all.

Boys are from the stupid factory.

2008-09-09T15:37:00.004+01:00

Abeg O! No be me talk am...Na Hannah Montanna.

Not that Miley Cyrus Hannah Montanna...THIS Hannah Montanna.

So, I've been away from blogville for a while... Y'all can see my reason above.
Hannah is the newest addition to our family and she has been one handful. Hannah is from some village close to mine...and it's her first time in Lagos!!!!
We're keeping her, cuz she really does like it here.
She is sooooooo cute...Her smile is wonderful...but she is a PEST!
I have had to go over a million things with her for the past two weeks...
The most important thing I've had to teach her is to be a village girl with an A.T.T.I.T.U.D.E... Hence the picture...and her many new feminine clothes.
Hello girl power!!! Bye Bye Alpha Males!!!
And she's loving it.
Anyways, it will take monthsss to tush this my sister up, but, eventually, it wil all be worth it o jare.
She keeps getting lost in our small apartment o...I think that's her major problem...and she came to Lagos with a very very bad cough but thank God for Benylin (with Codine...I know I know, she's a little girl, but it helped her sleep soundly).
She eats like a horse!
She can write but she can't read, my people, have you seen that kain thing????
She knows 2*8 but will take another 20 minutes to figure out 8*2, of which i've spent over 3 hours teaching her that it's the same thing, rice and beans is the same as beans and rice.
Her handwriting is pretty BUT all she can write is My name is hannah adigun...
Hannah is crazy about Television!!!! She has told me the story of the-four-televisions-in-her-village-and-how-none-of-them-are-functioning like a million times when I tell her it's time to sleep.
God is still working on Hannah...and so am I.

Now to another topic, I was at SBR!!!! And I had M.A.D.D fun!!!
I love all my blogger friends...
Esp you X'nerd and Charie , Fineboy Agbero and of course Princessa for putting the whole party together...by the way, Princessa has some fine brothers and one crazy sister (sorry, I just had to say that)!!!
Please don't miss the next Bloggers' Reunion!!!!

More of Lawunmi.

2008-09-02T09:26:00.005+01:00

Got some more pictures of Lawunmi. Anyone interested in her artwork should contact me or visit her website.
Watch this space for information about her exhibitions.

olawunmi banjo.

2008-09-01T09:31:00.007+01:00

I picked today to talk about my friend Lawunnmi.

Lawunmi is an artist, in my opinion, a very good one. I admire her, her 'saneness' and her talent. Her's is a long long story that I think I don't have any business sharing here in blogville. But no one I know could have gone through life Lawunmi's way and still find a way to put a charming smile on her face.She is strong;with will power and emotion, I pray to God for her kind of strength.

Lawunmi does some still life paintings that I think are mighty fine, here are some of them:

And my favourite one here is a picture of her godmother when she was a little child here:

Here is Brad Pitt:

Jada Pinkett:

Shania Twain:

Some of her abstract paintings are also real cool, I'll start with my favourite one here:

wait till you find out what it means.lol!

And then there's this one as well:

and some others:

Olawunmi Banjo attended the Aina Onabolu modern Art school In Lagos Nigeria. She is currently a member of the African Artist Foundation (AAF http://www.africanartists.org/ ) where she is the premier Artist.

In her own words...

"My view of Art is the creative ability to define the beauty and existence of life, which words cannot explain. My main mentor (God) has been the intelligent designer and has inspired me to be creative in my own special way."

"Inspiration is the soul of real Art, and my inspiration revolves around Nature and Humans. It's very inspiring to watch nature and humans exhibiting beautiful and creative designs. My style is my attitude, which I represent in my art. The beauty of nature and beings has helped me to paint realistically."

"Realism helps me to appreciate the world, and most especially Gods work. Art helps us to understand, appreciate and interpret the essential elements of life. I have vast inspiration and I'm still developing. Imagination is not just the ability of man to form what his minds eye projects. Imagination should be reinforced by meanings and messages. My Imagination connects me to the world of surrealism. My Surreal works are messages to make people understand that there is more to this world than meets the eye."

"With help, inspiration and imagination, life can be more meaningful and handled pleasantly with soft hands. My moods are primarily dictated by African traditions and cultures. Bright colors in my paintings compliment my imagination. I am inspired to inspire people and make them appreciate the beauty of life through art. I love to see people express amazement at the unveiling of my work. I want to be remembered for the patience and passion that I give to deliver messages through my paintings."

Olawunmi Banjo

You can check out Lawunmi's website here

Her works are on exhibition and if you're an art person you might want to check them out if you missed the ones at Expo and Muson Centres a while ago (she almost missed these exhibitions bdw, because the lady in charge wouldn't put her on it for her lack of a degree or any kind of formal education, thank God for the power of persuasion. Lawunmi was the first person to sell a painting that day o!). Will post the dates soon so y'all in Lagos can go and check her stuff out.

If you are in America and are interested Lawunmi's are, contact her agent/marketer Carl Jackson here:
Bowling Green, OH 43402
ph: 419-807-8762
olbanportraits@olbanarts.com.

I'll continue my old Laiman gist later, I need serious help.

Let us learn to drink our own cups of tea.

2008-08-29T11:07:00.003+01:00

Still pissed at Ndi Okereke and co. for their uncalled-for Obamamania, I found this note written by Tolu Ogunlesi on Facebook, it's really on piont. If any of you know Ndi or anyone that knows anyone that knows her, get her to read this, maybe she'll learn one or two important things from this note...especially how to take Panadol for her own headache and not Mubarak's...sorry I meant Barack.

THE AUDACITY OF CHOICE:

10 THINGS OKEREKE-ONYIUKE CAN DO WITH HER OBAMA MONEY by Tolu Ogunlesi

1. RELOCATE THE OBAMAS

Relocate Obama’s peasant family from Kenya to Lagos / Abuja / Calabar:

In the past Nigeria has had to endure the gross indignity of playing host to war criminals: Charles Taylor, Yormie Johnson, even Osama was said to have made Kano home at some point in the ‘90s. (Why do we always have to attract unsavory elements to our country?)

A while ago, CNN took its viewers to Kenya to see Obama’s peasant African family, complete with thatched huts and pregnant goats as backdrop. (Forget the fact that this would never have happened had Obama been Nigerian – we would have relocated the entire Obama clan, plus livestock to Asokoro or Banana Island the moment their son declared intention to run for President of the world).

This will finally be Nigeria's chance kill two birds with one stone: host a Hero’s family for once, as atonement for our traditional hospitality to fugitives, and two, revive our Big Brother role by taking the burden of caring for the Obama lineage from a less-endowed Kenya. (Country Social Responsibility?)

2. PROMO

"There is not one Nigerian who doesn't have a relative or friend in America. Our aim was to encourage those people to tell their family who have the right to vote in America to vote for Obama." – Ndi Okereke-Onyiuke, D.G, Nigerian Stock Exchange

Fund a Promo that will see Nigerians winning mouth-watering prizes from the telecom companies by calling their based-in-America relatives to instruct them to vote for Obama. AFRICANS FOR OBAMA “CALL & WIN” PROMO.

1st Prize: A return ticket to the Democratic Convention, a front-row seat at the Presidential Inauguration in January 2009 and a mention in the Acknowledgements Page of Obama’s next book.

PS. For those of you who think MTN’s best days (in terms of out-of-this-world profits) are behind them, wait until Nigerians start 'harassing' their relatives in the US.

3. BALLOT PAPERS

Donate Made-in-Nigeria ballot cards for use in the US Elections. The conceited Americans say they don’t need our money. But surely they can do with our (already thumb-printed) ballot papers. After all, if Mike Tyson voted for the PDP in Ondo State last year, why can’t Bash Ali vote for Obama come November?

4. BAIL MONEY

Set it aside to serve as Bail Money (for Aunt Ndi) in case she’s (re-)arrested by the EFCC. But then, Nigeria’s big men and women always get off lightly when it comes to bail money prescriptions. What this means is that there’ll be more than enough money to bail the entire Africans for Obama organization in case they’re arrested en masse, as well as to pay lawyers to secure a renewable eternal order restraining the EFCC, ICPC, SSS and Police from harassing her; and the Press from mentioning her name in any of their articles.

5. BOOK EAGLE SQUARE

Invite Obama to come and draw pop concert-sized crowds in Nigeria on October 1: He did it in Germany; he can do it again at the Eagle Square. He will preach a message of hope, and lay hands on our dear President Yar’Adua and all the 36 State Governors to transfer some of his anointing to them. Michelle will commission beauty parlors in all the 36 state capitals of Nigeria and launch the Turai range of affordable hair care products (under the auspices of the Beautiful Life for Rural Women pet project).

6. DONATE IT

Donate it to the Electoral Law Reform Commission and INEC: They’ll need it for sensitization workshops and seminars, and for trips to America to learn how Democracy works and how free-and-fair elections are conducted.

7. REALITY TV

Create a TV Reality Show:
The Next Obama! Sell forms @ 5,000 each. Contestants will be drawn from all over Africa. The show will be shot in Kenya, Nigeria and America. Contestants will be judged on charisma, speaking skills, spiritual affiliations, blackberry-savvy, fashion sense and fund-raising skills. You’ve heard of Pop Idols, this will be a show for Pol Idols.

8. ‘MOCK ELECTIONS’

On November 4, conduct Mock US Presidential Elections in the headquarters of all 774 Local Governments of Nigeria: Obama vs. McCain: Nigeria Decides! Then annul the results without releasing them (it might be illegal to announce them, that’s why).

9. BOOK PROJECT

Use it to Publish the potential bestseller “HOW TO RAISE FUNDS FOR PROJECTS THAT ARE NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS: Tips from the Obasanjo and Obamafrica Projects.” [Alternative title: “HOW TO RAISE LEGAL FUNDS FOR ILLEGAL PROJECTS: The story of an Amazon’s Midas Touch”]

10. ENDOWMENT

Set up the Lamidi Adedibu Institute for Studies in Electoral Integrity The biggest tribute to the name of the Garrison Commander will be to institute a foundation in his name. If there’s money leftover, a Leadership Prize might not be a bad idea: The Ariyibi Mugabe Prize for Amiability, Elongated Leadership and Political Sagacity.

There’s one last Choice (apologies, my 10 things always manage to become 11….)

11. RECRUIT

Hire one or two (more) chartered accountants, to speed up the counting of the money (Aunt Ndi claimed in an interview days ago that the ‘Africans for Obama’ accountant had not finished counting the money). Hire more bloody accountants I say!

Epilogue: It just occurred to me that it’d be a good idea for Dr. Mrs. Okereke-Onyiuke to take ‘Africans for Obama’ public. Offer for Sale, one billion shares of Africans for Obama Nig. Ltd, at a price of X dollars per share. If it worked for Transcorp, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t work for Africans4ObamaCorp.

Tolu Ogunlesi (c) August 2008

Before I forget! Y'all should go and sheck out my second blog here, i'm teaming up with Xavier NE on this. If you like the theme and you think you can contribute, you can join us, we could use more team members. Enjoy.

A fool at my age is what???

2008-08-23T20:45:00.004+01:00

Khama kissed me in the spring,
Laiman in the fall,
But Michael only looked at me
And never kissed at all.

Khama's kiss was lost in jest,
Laiman's lost in play,
But the kiss in Michael's eyes
Haunts me night and day.

Adapted from Sara Teasdale's(1884-1933) The look.

I shouldn't let him hold my hand, even if I can't cross the NNPC road alone.

I souldn't let him hug me goodnight, even if it helps me sleep better.

I shouldn't let him kiss me, even if I say to myself that we're just fooling around.

I shouldn't let him...

darn! what am I going to do???

I'm in love with the love of my life...

I shouldn't let him confuse me.

We've been friends since forever, I can't just walk away!

What do I do now?

my best friend wants to ruin the best thing that's ever happened to me...

I love him...

but what I feel for my sweetness cannot be compared to our silly friendship...

I should stay away from him

but he's everywhere!

darn! what am I going to do???

Na wa o!

2008-08-20T20:57:00.002+01:00

What if I tell you i was expecting the wrong person at my house this morning???!!!
And I didn't know until she appeared o!
I met my old friends Sandra C and Sandra O on that cursed Facebook of a site last month...I searched for them for the fun of it and Baaam! there they were in black,white and different colors. So I went through the normal Add as a Friend routine and we got talking.
Me being the clumsy person that I am, saved Sandra O's number as Sandra C's and we've spoken like four or five times over the phone, all the while I thought I'd been speaking to Sandra C... the first time she called I was like, 'Sandra! you sound sooo different! your voice is now husky-ish' and she just laughed.

So, me with my mumurity was awaiting the Return of Sandra C live in my estate today.

Kon kon koin!!!
knock on my door...
It's Sandra O!!!
and her cousin!!!
who is incidentally schooling @ NIIT where I go too!

First thing I said was , 'I wasn't expecting you!' and she was so shocked, her cousin was like 'Oh o!'...but I covered it up with a good laugh and we had fun!

SECRET: i'm really glad t'was Sandra O that appeared @ my door this morning and not Sandra C...I like Sandra O more...if I knew earlier what Sandra I was really expecting, I wouldn't have been sooo nervous! Sandra O is really coool!

I got a call this evening from my darling friend Laiman asking me to ,'come downstairs, come downstairs!!' This guy is not supposed to be ANYWHERE around o! Boy! was I glad to see him! Nobody understands me like Laiman, the same goes for him and I hate it when he suprises me with his visits but t'wasn't really a suprise...Jack is coming home tonight!!!!
Apparently, he's not here yet....Laiman n co are picking him up @ 8!!!

By the way!!!Bloggers, I need your prayers...and fast if you can...
May I find favour in the sight of God and In the sight of men as well.
Amen.

Someone too the rat out this morning before Sandra came!!!!!
Bless his or her soul.
Not that Sandra O would have minded sha!
Lol!

Knowledge is power if you know it about the right person.

2008-08-20T11:04:00.005+01:00

My very very old friend is coming over today.

Things get kinda awkward for me on these sorta visits.

We haven't seen in four years, things have changed in the past four years...I have changed in the past four years.

Sandy and I used to be like 5 and 6 in our school days...she's a very lively person, I hope upon hope that we'll have a lot to talk about...I hope upon hope that she hasn't changed o!

I have a strong phobia for uncomfortable silence.

And my house is in a mess...I should be cleaning up instead of putting up this post.

ALERT! there's a dead rat under my staircase, I even think it's something bigger than a rat...maybe it's a cat or a cow, the stench is unbearable...and unwelcoming...oh! Sandy!!!

I hope my neighbours find it in their hearts to take it out from under there...it's embarrassing.

And my friend Jack is back in Naija...this one I haven't seen in forever...please don't come visiting today o Jack!!!!

One negative first impression about my hygiene is enough for one day...what am i saying??? it's enough for one lifetime.

Will tell y'all how it goes...pray for me.

2008-08-18T14:20:00.004+01:00

…I’m a lone traveler on a bleak landscape…
---Wole Oguntokun.

So, I’ve been busy with this and that, here and there. Sweetness wants me to come visit soon so I’m applying for a visa this week…y’all should pray for me o.
I’ve had a real stressful week…and to crown it all up, I’ve been getting strange annoying phone calls and text messages from some stupid geeks.
It started with this one phone call
Me: yeah?
Focker: hello? Hello?? I’m waiting for you.
Me: who’s this?
Focker: A.Y. I’m at the café I’m waiting for you, bring it, bring it now.
Me: what café?? You have the wro….
Beep.
Stupid Focker.
Phone rings again. This time, I succeed in telling him he has the wrong number and he apologises. Okay.

A few minutes later I get this text from the same number:

hello,i'm vry sorry,

it was a mistake,

pls am i 4givn?

i'm Ayo, may o be a friend

& ur name pls?

hunn! oshi. I know this thing o! i completely ignore this guy. Then different numbers start flashing my lines. They flashed so hard, i had to switch off my phones for a while. I don't make it a duty to call anonymous flashers...this thingy went on for two days non-stop, I guess I'm on a break now, but if the flashers start again, I'll publish the numbers and all of you guys can help me give them a taste of their own medicine, please.

Yesterday was a good day, I hooked up with my bestest friend Keenat and we had a swell time. First we went to Terra Kulture for Laspapi's Things Fall Apart. If you live in Lagos or are in Lagos, and you haven't seen it this month, don't miss it please, it's wonderful.

By the way, me and Keenat couldn't keep our mouths shut and there was this lady sitting in front with her boo and she kept staring back at us like we were frigging lesbos or something, we found it really really hilarious and we didn't stop whispering and giggling and holding hands, the girl almost peed in her pants. After the show, I joked about going to ask for her number and inviting her to our secret wedding in December but Keenat decided against it...but we did have time to watch the show and it was wonderful...okay, i already said that...Laspapi hasn't paid me a dime...lol.

Then we went to the beach (which isn't really a beach anymore sef) and just chilled out...it looks really nice now, thanks to Lagos state govt. and Oceanic Bank.

I didn't ride no horses...that's Keenat in the pic doing her thing.

We left a while later to go get some decent food... you don't really get that on the Island on sundays.

Well now, it's back to my normal life...

and the flashers have started again...

Hakuna Matata my ass!

2008-08-08T10:30:00.002+01:00

I keep thinking, if Skye Bank doesn't spend less on advertising and start doing something about their services (esp the internet connection) pretty soon, there will be worries...

Me, i don't like their Money System Cash Transfer thingy at all at all...and I've warned sweetness to never use it again.

At first, when I got to the bank, almost a million security people were like, 'welcome to Skye Bank madame'...ehh o! thank you sirs...welcoming me with guns and batons and that thingy for eletric shock or something.
My first thought was, 'is this the Banker's Bank???'...abi how much money could these people possibly be protecting??? o ga o.

Then that their stupid security door refused to open for like 5 minutes... me that needed money for emergency reasons!!!

Finally, I get into the hall in one piece and there are another two million people saying, 'welcome to Skye Bank madame'...is this the new scope??? Shio...I notice the crowd, so I run to a less busy table and politely ask for MSCF form to fill, the lady hands me Western Union form and I'm like MSCF o jare! but she says, 'go upstairs to the Western Union office, he will attend to you'
Okay o!
I climb the stairs and there's almost three million people there greeting, 'welcome to Skye Bank madame'... I spot the Western Union guy and he is all smiles (I think they just reviewed their Salary Scheme at Skye Bank), then I ask, 'How do I fill in MSCF details in this Western Union form???' and he smiles and says,'sorry madame, you don't. Just go downstairs and ask the man in uniform for FleetCash form, sorry'.
Okay now.

I finally fill the stupid form, still thinking of my emergency o!

I give the form to the guy at the counter, expecting it to take only a minute (just like it does when I use Webfast at Oceanic), 'your ID please' I give him my passport and expect him to hand over my 19,000 naira in a few seconds BUT the guy starts attending to other customers, like he knew my transaction was going to take forever!
I didn't talk o! I counted 11 customers that he attended to before he said to me,'why don't you take your seat madame, I'll call you.
'okay, no problem'...still thinking of my emergency.

I sit for about 15 minutes then a lady walks up to me and says, 'welcome to Skye Bank, may I help you?'....what rubbishhhhh!!!, *smiling*, i simply say, 'no don't worry, somebody is already helping me'.

Five minutes later, another floor manager walks up to me and is like, 'hello, welcome to Skye Bank, how may I help you???'Jesus!...*smiling* i say,'my instrument is at the counter, don't worry'.
Okay.

Then the guy finally calls me after another ten minutes, 'what's the Password please??' Meeehhnnnn! 'Sweetness', I manage to say and he tells me to go and have my seat. I sigh, still thinking of my emergency.

Another floor manager stands beside me for a minute and then says, 'are you waiting for somebody madam???' I completely ignore him.

Finally, I get my 19,000 amd my passport one hour 13 minutes after getting into the bank. Thankfully, I run off to take care of my emergency...

I get to the security door, only to discover that one pregnant woman who had been running around the banking hall trying to clear her cheque had been trapped in the door, she was mighty scared. It took the whole of 2 minutes to sort it out, as soon as the guards did, she came out in tears.

I warned the security guards to leave the door open and let me jejely get out, I did, in a split second.

'thank you for chosing Skye Bank' they all muttered, some of them hailing, 'big sister! fine sister, honourable sister!!'... Me!!! give you out of my 19,000???!!! lai lai.
Eyin alabosi!

I rush out and hail a bike as fast as I can to quickly take care of my emergency.

...Then I get to the boutique and ask for the bag I saw yesterday and the lady says, 'we just sold it ten minutes ago!!!'

Hakuna mafriggingtata!!!

i'm hating Skye Bank at the moment.

Take a bow.

2008-08-06T17:51:00.003+01:00

I fell in love with this hair...
But I thought it was the only one o...
so I went ahead and spent good money fixing this thing.

My friend OB who first saw it was like, 'ah!!! Woomie Puh-leeeease *doing that thing with the index finger and twisting his neck* who inspired this hairstyle??? take a bow???' I just laughed and told him to shut up...

Then Rex...

And Keenat...

And everybody on the street!!!!

There's not a fixing going around in Lasgidi that is not Take a Bow...

I'm so mad that everybody is copying me and Rihanna...

But I luuuuuurrrrrhhhvvvveee the hair!!!! it's the second time I fixed imy hair in my whole life and i'm absolutely loving this one...
good value for my hard earned (not personally) money.

If you're thinking of taking a bow, please make sure it's nice and fine (it almost always is), or else just forget it and don't embarrass me joo.

Who the hell is ZAIN???

2008-08-01T19:21:00.003+01:00

Ok, so i woke up this morning to wish my all my peeps a happy new month and bam! I can't find Vmobile on my screen...it's been replaced with ZAIN NGN@ ...oookkk, so I check around my room to find out if I'm still in Naija (or if my wishes had come true and I'd been teleported to UK without all the Visa stress and long journey), luckily (or unluckily), I was still in the same bed I'd fallen asleep in last night...definitely not roaming.
This Vmobile-turned-Zain people are the most inconsistent TSP in Nigeria, first ECONET, then Vodacom then VMobile and now Zain???
They'd better not stop my 15 free texts every month or I will be less motivated to send my new month's texts to the thirty usual recipients at a subsidized rate.lol.
Oh well! on second thought, who cares??...I just hope their network doesn't go in-zain.
Happy New Month to y'all out there, by the way...
May we all blossom and flourish on this month of August.
Amen.

A naira ain't worth a kobo anymore.

2008-07-30T16:31:00.004+01:00

I feel great...and I kiss even better.
-Emo Phillips.

I haven't had the best of weeks...but I got kissed like three times (still wondering what came over me o!)...that's a big deal, if you've been a good kisser and then gone on leave for like 18 months.
I kiss and tell, so what??? lol!
I've been fooling around with this crazy old friend of mine...he thinks it's the other way around but then...it doesn't matter who's fooling who, as long as there's a fooling somewhere between us then it's just great.
Spare me the sermon, I haven't had a good kiss since eternity...

it doesn't count as cheating, does it???

Now, to my title. I spent close to 2,000 naira flying okadas around Lagos looking for a Fax machine...and it was raining elephants and lions (...by the way, what does it take to own and connect a fax machine???...) I was tired and dirty after the whole gross ordeal. Someone even directed me to the Post Offices, it was when I got to the second post office that I knew that the silly jerk didn't even know what a fax is.
After going from one end to the other, clothes wet with rain, feet covered in mud, i gave up hope and took the last bike home, guess what? I found one bill board near my bus stop that went somewhat like this.

TDA VENTURES.

Typesetting.

Photocopying

Laminating.

Binding.

Internet Calls.

Fax Services.

I almost fell off the bike. Hell's on earth! You sure pay for your sins here...all that kissing and fooling around, I paid for it. Never cheat on your boo...-with the littlest kiss...-especially if you haven't made it clear to Party 2 that you're just fooling around. Lol! me and my superstitions. Anyways, I got to the shop, did my do which took like 10 minutes and another 1,000 naira and went home.

BTW, did I mention that since I was at Mushin during the Ultimate Search, I'd chosen to do some 'grocery' (I always like to use that word, dunno y) shopping and give my people a fried rice treat...it cost me a arm and a leg, the way things are these days eh! I almost changed my mind and prepared Fried-Garri (will give y'all the recipie for that one later)but a new bag-of-rice-suprise from my dad helped.

I was jejely cooking this wonderful meal, not minding how tired I was from the day's punishment when my mother came home and threw a tantrum about how live chicken is better than the frozen one that I bought...I was so mad, I had the right to remain silent so I should have shut up, but I didn't, we had this heated argument that resulted into a ...whatever it was. I'm not speaking to her sha...maybe it will take a week (if she doesn't jejely stretch the olive branch towards me)...although, I know she took this fight thing seriously because she boycotted my fried rice (ME! My own fried rice!!! My Own Fried Rice that happens like one a month and doesn't turn out as well as it did yesterday once in a while) and ate Sardines with that dry coconut bread from KJ, I felt really sorry for her. I'm still angry with her sha. I read my horoscope for today and found this:

July 30, 2008 - Do not underestimate the feelings of sickness that are due to overwork or cardio-vasculary disorders. Don't harbor ill feelings toward certain members of your family who could have hurt you recently. Beware of your brimming imagination and your exacerbated sensibility which might impede your objectiveness. You may not be able to finish the work that was demanded from you: try to justify yourself, don't feel or appear guilty. If money befalls you, don't spend it now: it'd be much better to invest it somewhereHow do these people know these things???

1.I want to talk to her...but I'm not goina beg her sha o.

2.I feel sick today because I HAVE been overworking myself lately (But the AB King Pro has nothing to do with it).

3.Me and this my imagination!

4.Nobody asked any work of me so I don't think I need to finish anything...except of course!!! My tellers!!! Gawd!

5.Money did befall me today! Courtesy of my cousin Mr. Grubs Suya, it wasn't much, but I've invested it somewhere in my wallet anyways! lol!

I've been spending too much time on the internet.EVIDENCE: I was on the phone this morning with my sister-friend and we were cracking jokes but instead of laughing originally, we were both screaming LOL! LOL! LOL! so I was like, 'can't we laugh the real laugh? LOL' my case is pathetic.

PS: where do you go to get anorexia???

See me see trouble o!

2008-07-26T20:30:00.002+01:00

This woman (abi na man???) tried hard, but she will not succeed in putting me in a really tight corner.
God, thank you for the wonderful discerning spirit You have blessed me with...although any humble idiot could've read between the lines here;

From Mrs Rebecca WilliamsN�[38 Rue Des Martyrs Cocody Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire

ATTN:
DEAREST ONE OF GOD
I am the above named person from Kuwait . I am married to Mr Benson Williams, who worked with Kuwait embassy in Ivory Coast for nine years before he died in the year 2004. We were married for eleven years without a child. He died after a brief illness that lasted for only four days. Before his death we were both born again Christian. Since his death I decided not to remarry or get a child outside my matrimonial home which the Bible is against. When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of $2. 5 Million (Two Million Five Hundred U.S. Dollars) in the bank here in Abidjan in suspense account. Presently, the fund is still with the bank. Recently, my Doctor told me that i have serious sickness which is cancer problem. The one that disturbs me most is my stroke sickness. Having known my condition I decided to donate this fund to a church or individual that will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct herein. I want a church that will use this fund for orphanages, widows, propagating the word of God and to endeavour that the house of God is maintained. The Bible made us to understand that blessed is the hand that giveth. I took this decision because I don抰 have any child that will inherit this money and my husband relatives are not Christians and I don抰 want my husband抯 efforts to be used by unbelievers. I don抰 want a situation where this money will be used in an ungodly way. This is why I am taking this decision. I am not afraid of death hence i know where I am going. I know that I am going to be in the bosom of the Lord. Exodus 14 VS 14 says that the Lord will fight my case and I shall hold my peace. I don抰 need any telephone communication in this regard because of my health hence the presence of my husband抯 relatives is around me always I don't want them to know about this development. With God all things are possible. As soon as I receive your reply I shall give you the contact of the bank here in Abidjan . I want you and the church to always pray for me because the Lord is my shepherd. My happiness is that I lived a life of a worthy Christian. Whoever that wants to serve the Lord must serve him in spirit and Truth. Please always be prayerful all through your life. Contact me on the above e-mail address for more information抯, any delay in your reply will give me room in sourcing another church or individual for this same purpose. Please assure me that you will act accordingly as I Stated herein. Hoping to receive your
reply.
Remain blessed in the Lord.
Yours in Christ,
Mrs Rebecca Williams.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
my reply???

here:

go ahead and die of cancer you asshole!
Why don't you give the doctor your phony 2.5 million dollars or better still give a fucking begger on the street since you're so fucking crazy about charity.
you be Nigerian abi???
you should be ashamed of yourself.
THIEF!!!

dearest one of God.

Painters and Writers.

2008-07-18T18:15:00.006+01:00

"Suppose you have been invited to a private view of a painting wherein the artist has chosen to join to a human head the neck of a horse, and gone on to collect some odds and ends of arms and legs and plaster the surface with feathers of differing colors, so that what began as a lovely woman at the top tapered off into a slimy, discolored fish – could you keep from laughing my friends?
Believe me dear, paintings like these look a lot like the book of a writer whose weird conceptions are just like a sick man’s dreams, so that neither the head nor the foot can be made to apply to a single uniform shape. “But painters and poets have always been equally free to try anything”. We writers know and insist that such a license be ours and in turn extend it to others but not to the extent of mating the wild with mild, so that snakes be paired with birds and lions with lambs."

When i read this letter written by Horace, it seemed to me, almost immediately that he had read Ben Okri's story of AZARO, the spirit child...but Hor wrote these letters B.C., he probably knew Ben Okri was going to write these two books.

I 'struggled' to read this books and make meaning of the story. I am a die hard fan of Nigerian writers, when I found the first part, i was impressed that he'd won the Booker Prize in 1991, so i just grabbed it and then the lady at the shop told me there's a sequel, so i bought the two.
I tried and tried to finish the first part, i gathered strength upon strength to turn it page by page. i kept saying to myself, 'i should be able to read and enjoy these books, is something wrong with me? he won the booker prize afterall', even my sister who doesn't ever read novels unless it's hyped picked the first one, finished it and then picked the sequel BUT decided she'd had enough when she got half way.

Maybe it's just me, maybe nothing is wrong with the book...i just didn't like it, i'm talking about The Famished Road cuz i wasn't even interested in the sequel.

I will keep on struggling to finish these books, it's the hardest book i've had to read.
Meen!

From her lips to God's ears.

2008-07-12T20:29:00.008+01:00

'God I love you, and I know you love me too. Thank you for the food I eat, it may not be much, but I don't really go hungry. Thank you for the clothes I have, they may not be beautiful like the other kids' in the neighbourhood, but I don't have to go naked. Thank you God for Mama Ologi, she may not be the best guardian, but at least she treats me like a human being. Thank you for my school, it may not be private and orderly, but at least I learn the little I can. Thank youGod for the life I have now, I remebmber it was worse but you came and saved me. God, I know I may seem ungrateful if I ask any more of you but life has been hard without school. I know you know. And I know you make everything happen for a reason, please God, make them call off the teachers' strike, I need to go back to school, I miss everything, I miss everyone, you know there's the only place where I feel like I really matter, that I'm really someone, the other kids won't play with me at home, they are all 'private' and snobbish. Please God, don't let mama kill me with work before school resumes. Thank you God for my answered prayers, please give me the strength to go through each day. Amen.'

-Bose

This is Bose. She is nine years old. Bose is my neighbour's 'child'...after all, she calls her 'omo mi', although I can tell that they do not share the slightest consanguinity. Mama Ologi is a sixty -something year old woman (or 'timer' as Rex calls them aged people), she suffers arthritis and she lives on the second floor, so she is pretty useless...but Mama Ologi isn't useless or contented enough to just be idle and let her numerous children take care of her...she dabbles into different business but the main three are selling pap (as her name implies), distributing crates of eggs, and selling firewood.

Don't wonder how Mama Ologi manages. She has nine year old Bose.

Bose is Mama's eyes, ears, mouth, hands and most importantly, legs. Suffice it to say that, once in a while, Mama uses her own mouth and hands to rain curses on Bose and beat her mercilessly when Bose accidentally behaves like the child that she really is.

Bose gets up at 5:30am, she delivers crates and crates of eggs to the six corners of the estate and in between, she makes stops at the differnt blocks to the pap retailers. She comes back home around 7:30 am and gets ready for school, although she has been on an indefinite holiday for a while now following the on-going teachers' strike. Perhaps if the federal government knew how the strike is affecting Bose, they'd meet NUT's demand and call it off immediately. I won't go into the things that Bose does with the time she'ld rather spend at school. On a normal day, Bose closes around 10pm.

Bose is my estate's most prominent nomad. She covers distances in a day that I as an adult wouldn't dare to in a full week. Bose seldom walks alone, she usually has company, sometimes, it's about ten crates of eggs, at other times, it's a mighty bundle of firewood, or when it's a good time, it's a 50ltr bowl of corn balanced on her tiny head. Bose is never allowed to stop, just to catch her breath.

Still, Bose is the happiest child I've ever met. I cannot begin to explain the ways this little girl's life had touched mine. When I look at her, and the permanent smile that adorns her beautiful face, I see a child who, though still a child, has seen life. I wonder where Bose comes from, she is at peace with this excuse for a life that she lives, maybe she is from hell??? I think of the childhood I had and the things I took for granted.

Bose hasn't watched television since she came to Lagos about two years ago (the only things electically power-able in Mama's flat are light bulbs, ceiling fans and a boiling ring...ironically, her PHCN bill reads 123, 935.65 naira), and i can tell that there are no televisions where she comes from. When Bose gets a 5naira buscuit treat from Mama Ologi, she must have made a fortune that day.

Bose's smile is a facade...a big lie. Definitely, Bose is not happy, she might have been worse but she is well aware that she can be happier. Yet she smiles...I am not fooled, although there is a strong temptation here to not see the forest because of the trees.

I got talking with Bose yesterday evening, first I convinced her (as always) to cut out her crappy charm and really talk to me, this time, I succeded. Bose is a very depressed child. She says - put in my words - that she feels she is not living at all. Like she's standing still. Not a day goes by that she doesn't think about her family she left behind or rather, a family that sold her to her current life because the former was worse. She feels extremely inferior around the other middle-class kids. I know Bose doesn't want to be superior, she just wants to feel that she can be as good as and acomplish as much as anyone else. I think those are her major troubles...she has enough to last her a lifetime (i'd rather not go into some of them here).

Bose's life demonstrates the many pernicious effects of rejection upon a growing child. Maybe it isn't full-blown yet, but it is incipient. Basically, there are unsatisfied cravings for attention and affection. Unfortunately, these cravings are coupled with an inability to realte emotionally to any person who could be in a position to satisfy her. It is not only distrust and resentment that stand in her way, she simply hasn't learnt how. She has a constant fear of abandonment and rejection, 'what if Mama makes good her promise of sending me back to the gutter where she picked me from???'...although, it's not as if she is not in another gutter -maybe a better one- but a gutter all the same.

Bose was born with the capacity for relatedness, like any other normal child, but it never got any encouragement to grow. The picture is an outer expression of decietful happiness and an inner desolation that is appaling. She has the Mark Of Oppression.

For Bose, I have the gift-love, one that needs to give; therefore needs to be needed. But still, I know that the proper aim of giving is to put the recipient in a state where she no longer needs my gift. We feed children in order that they may soon be able to feed themselves; we teach them that they may soon not need out teaching. That's the problem: what can I do for Bose??? already, i try the things I can in my own power, not seeming like I'm seeking adoption or anything, my gift-love must work towards it's own abdication. I haven't found a way to make myself superfluous. I fear for her, that, love having become a god, becomes a demon.

His people are coming!

2008-07-10T15:55:00.005+01:00

His people are coming!

His people are coming?!
I am happy. I am sad. I am nervous. I am going crazy with worry. Oh God!

I haven’t ever been a fan of LDRs (Long Distance Relationships), in fact, I tend to discourage them (without sharing this opinion).

It wasn’t until five months ago that I realized that I was actually in one; I have been in one for seventeen months now. Funny how it never dawned on me until then. For the sake of them teasers, I refer to my sweetness as ‘sweetness’. We met (officially) twenty years…sorry months ago, we’ve been dating for seventeen months and then things kinda got really serious and we’ve been engaged since March, that’s five months now.

At first, I called it an LDR right from the beginning because we (I) resolved to abstain, keep our distance as far as urges were concerned, Long Distance sexual Relationship ( I learnt from my first relationship that sex messes up everything if you haven’t discovered what your true feelings are), this was a problem at first but love prevailed OR maybe our relationship was saved by my sweetness’ decision to go back to the UK to further his education (he’s a medical doctor) , make some real money and the rest. (????)

I didn't think this was a big deal at first; not with the mobile phones + the many wonders of www. There was so much of our not-so-distant-afterall-relationship that I realized I had taken for granted when my sweetness and I had it. In Harriet Beecher’s words, I am one of those unfortunately constituted fellows in whose eyes whatever what is lost and gone assumes a value which it never had in possession. Whatever I had, I seemed to survey only to pick faults; but since it’s been fairly away, there’s been no end to my valuation of it. I must confess, most times, I find myself wishing I hadn’t insisted on an LDR before the LDR.

Somehow, days have turned into weeks, weeks to months, and now it’s been almost two years now, still it feels like yesterday. It almost always feels like yesterday. My sister Lala (23) says it’s because I’m 19 years old that I can afford to not be time conscious, she is a firm believer in back-up and insurance, by this she means ‘not dating exclusively’, but that doesn’t work for me, I’m way too plain for that…there’s no way I can be in love with more than one person at a time...messsy, one day bushmeat go catch the hunter.

Last week, my sweetness and I were talking (my brother, the mathematician said one time that I spend roughly 20% of my day on the phone and over half of my allowance on calls and communications) and he was like, '...my people and I are coming...' 'blah blah blah' I wasn't listening.

'your people are coming with you???'

your people are coming?

his people are coming??

This guy is not joking o!

I'd never really thought about this for a second before now...
I'm not sure.

I'm soo not sure.

I'm craaazzzyyy about my sweetness and what we have together.

I'm happy.

I keep telling myself, 'i'm happy'

'i'm happy' again and again, just to be sure that I really am.

At the moment, I don't know what to do...

With school and three major exams and all, this should be the least of my worries, but it sure isn't.

I'm happy, but i keep asking myself, 'what if i can be happier?'

What if i just think i'm happy???
What if it's just someting i want to believe??

What if I can be happier???

What if?

Phew! it's finally over.

2008-07-07T19:12:00.001+01:00

So, I'm officially 19 years old...feels like a huge weight's been lifted off my shoulders. I don't know if it's just me but I feel like everyone expects too much from 18 year olds.
So 4th of July was a wonderful wonderful day. I felt the love from the four corners of the earth.
Thank you God for your mercies. So, I was a big mistake in the begining, but look how I've blossomed and flourished!

I conveniently forgot to take pictures of my birthday cakes in the frenzy, but believe me y'all, cakes have never been so beautiful.
I have like one million people to thank but I'll try with the few I can remember for now.
Thank you God, nothing I can give you will be commensurate to the love you've shown me.
Thank you mum, thank you dad, for how can I be without you two???

To my sis, Lala, life'ld be impossible without you, thank you for the delicious dishes, here's the only place I can agree that you make better Fried rice than me. I love you.

To my one and only brother Gaby, I's more than flattered that you remembered, it's the best gift I received this year.

Jack Omezi, La Familia, I guess you're the most important of the three afterall.

Ezi Nwankwo, I love you so much girl. W'are five hours ahead this time of the year, lol...but t'was mighty thoughtful of you.
Angel and Koko Nwankwo, Harriet Abihkui, Emmanuella Ejimamu, Ibilate and Tamuno Awatt, Jenny Okafor, Mosunmade Solanke, e.t.c thank you girls.

Tundun Salami, I liked your idea of being the last to wish me a happy birthday, I can never forget you.
Toyin Hunter, your cake was wonderful, how can I tell you that I don't know your birthday???
Rabila and Baba, I can't imagine celebrating my birthday without you there to sample the meals.
Ugo pumping, very thoughtful of you, still, I can't date you.
Keenat, your piece of the cake's intact, come get it when you're around this part of the world.
Jenjelow, words can't express how much I apprecaite you, you still are the best cousin in the my world.

Many thanks go to Victor Ganzllo, Atilola Adeyemi, Soba and Sotonye Jonah for your prayers.

I almost forgot to mention that my darling baby and I share birthdays, she's the most adorable thing that's ever lived. She's officially five years old!!!! I hope I can post pictures soon.

To all the people I accidentally left out, thank you tons, I didn't forget you because you're not important, of course you all are, there's been a permanent smile on my lips since Friday.

I love y'all back.

2008-07-03T19:13:00.002+01:00

So, I spent about one hour on Facebook today...Eh! come and arrest me. Lol!

Anyways, a 'friend' (that's what we call them...F/bk has crazy ideas of what friends should be...my No.1 grudge) wrote this on my wall...and I liked it.

♥If one day u feel like crying♥
♥Call me♥
♥I dont promise that i will make u laugh♥
♥But i can cry with u♥
♥If one day u want to run away♥
♥Dont be afraid to call me♥
♥I dont promise to ask u to stop♥
♥But i can run with u♥
♥If one day u dont want to listen to anyone♥
♥Call me♥
♥I promise to be there for u but also promise to remain quiet♥
♥But one day if u call♥
♥And there is no anwser♥
♥Come fast to see me♥
♥Perhaps i need you♥

(...it doesn't end there o. It goes on to say some superstitious stuff like 'send this msg to 10 people under one hour and you loved one will visit you, if not, bad-luck-will-follow-you-for-the-rest-of-your-life, wtf???
I get messages like this on my wall and i never forward em with the curse, for what???
why do people ruin nice msgs with that crap???)

Oh well! There you have it ... go find someone like this person in the message to be part of your life, or better still, be this person in the message. Understand that there's always a reasonable reason people behave unreasonably.
Understand...it's what makes the world go round...really.
It's not love - that's overrated, and it's not money either -that's underestimated actually.
But understanding, I think that's why Africa and Nigeria in particular is finding it hard to take a step from this stand still; WAAAY TOO MANY TRIBES, too many languages, we don't understand each other. Hummph!

Weekend.

2008-06-28T18:21:00.003+01:00

It's Saturday evening.
I have just had a really stressful day. Hmmph!
My 11i classes have officailly started today and I goofed while creating a user so I got waaaay behind in class. Really annoying, nd then I forgot the praticals textbook that made me look stupid (funny how I had March's edition of ELLE magazine, Ben Okri's Songs of Enchantment etc. in my bag instead)...I had to stay behind after class for twenty minutes to finish up. Easy Peasy.
Truth is- for those familiar with Oracle DBA- it's much more easier when you have the book on your lap to guide you...try closing the books and doing all the practicals on your own, the english language disappears. Really.

The classes aside. I think I'm starting to suffer depression.
Has pain become such a huge part of your life that you expect it to always be there, because you can't remember a time when it wasn't?
Blogging is doing me a great deal of good. I never talk about my problms but at least, in blogville, I get to acknowledge that I have them.
I'd be glad to turn a fresh page, to begin writing my destiny all over again, from scratch...if wishes were horses...
All I have is my life, as it is. There's no going back i guess. But every new day is a new chance...
a fresh start...
I'm still too stupid to find out which way to turn...
Left ...or right...?
Or just go back?

Oh! hell.

I came across Esquire's poems and I asked to borrow one...
I like this one alot.

OFF THAT RADIO JARE

Off that radio jare
Off am
Na so so lie lie he go dey talk
Off that radio jare
Off am

If President Yar'Adua go Russia
He go talk am
If Commissioner’s wife go Conference
He go talk am
If Russian submarine sank into barren sea
He go talk am
If Wole Soyinka come back from West Indies
He go talk am

Mama Sikira son go Sri-Lanka
He no talk am
Mr. Francis go farmer fertilizers’ bank
He no talk am
Papa painter wife born new pinkin
He no talk am
I go Agege Yesterday
He no talk am

Off that radio jare
Off am

As published by The Guardian Newspapers and MakeImpact magazine

May this will 'not' be done

2008-06-22T13:38:00.005+01:00

So, NEPA has been unmerciful for about four days now…and my locomotive generator has been be-witched by my neighbors. But, that’s all in the past now, thank God.

This past week, I have swallowed approximately four truck loads of shit…deep shit. Soon, I’ll be unable to take it anymore, not one more drop or I’d just burst. When I do burst, it won’t be all the ingested shit, flesh and blood that will be splashed. No. All that’ll be left of me will be salty water. Tears. I really should learn how to cry. I have heard that it helps.

I’ve got so many problems than I can't handle on my own, really. And I just can’t share. For me, a problem shared is a problem doubled. I’m a great listener (my sister, Lala, may not agree), I listen for a living…to anybody…anything. I guess that’s why I have so many problems: some of them aren’t even mine.

Anyways, this post isn’t about my problems…really. Blogger.com’s database cannot handle a fraction of my issues. Lol.

School’s out till September and I haven’t had any luck finding a holiday job…so for lack of better things to do, I found myself going through old stuff from way-back-when.

I almost never throw things out; notes, cards, letters, bookmarks, little papers with roughly scribbled words that mean something, everything.

Anyways, I found a will. Really, I’d almost forgotten about this thing o. It’s sooo funny, I really can’t believe I actually wrote this thing.

Five years ago, I was diagnosed with appendicitis. I was fourteen years old, the dormitory prefect and exams were around the corner, baddest time to fall ill. I read a lot of John Grishams in my secondary school days, I remember vividly I was halfway through The Testament.

All I thought I ever owned that really mattered to me was in the hostel...my friends.

I knew everything would turn out well somewhere at the back of my mind (or my dad wouldn’t let me go through wit it). The morning of my surgery, the doctor re-scheduled from 9am to 2pm, I was really really really nervous, I couldn’t read or watch T.V so I thought about dying, really thought about it…then I got a pen and paper and I wrote this (but t’was just to have a laugh at the end of it), funny I didn’t find it again till yesterday.
As I read this will, i was amazed atmy stupid sense of humor in my state at that time.

Last Will and Testament of Woomie.
I have appointed Ezi (my bestest friend) as executor of my estate. My assets are to be distributed as follows;

1. My pink and white bed sheet and pillow case go to Pizza. (Pizza's real name was Tobi, she was a champion bedwetter so we nicknamed her Piss-er and funkinized it...she had no idea)

2. My blue bucket and the other small green one go to Vivian, so you people can sleep till 5 am. (Vivian had this old rusty iron bucket that made sooo much noise, she was an early riser)

3. My Account and Commerce notes go to Ogundipe, Economics and Further Math notes go to you, and Biology note to Sandra, Give Mosunmade the rest and you can use my Yoruba note for your sketches. (i hated yoruba, my teacher had no idea, i was fairly good at it but i couldn't stand her. Ironically, i was her best student and 'friend' but we fell out)

4. My green traveling box should be sent back home, to my mother. (it was a Samsonite, a beauty...a bribe. I never really wanted to be a boarder)

5. My day wears, school uniforms, pj's and sport wears go to Queen. (she was the only one as big/bigger than me in the school, she was short...scary...and cute)

6. Give mummy my shampoo and tell her I love her ('Mummy' was what we generally called the matron)

7. My plates and cutleries go to Ororoo Pam, really. (she ate from this stainless plate that i couldn't feed my parrot in and she had no spoons, claimed they were stolen, so she 'protested' in the dining hall with her hands)

8. Ask Harmony if she truly saw Tokunboh using my back-scratcher on her vag, if she says yes, let her squat and fly for one period and then she can have it. Stupid bitch. (Tokunboh was and still as I've gathered is an annoying goat, i had this back-scrather, a carved plastic hand that i used to reach and itch down my back in my seasons of heat rash and break outs, Harmony sees everything and doesn't really lie, she caught Toks 'brooke-ing' herself with my back scrather, I was going to address the issue but i was ill...trust Ezi)

9. Give Harmony ALL my gel pens, colored pencils, and the math set. Ezi, everything! And u can give her the hot yellow one I lent you too. ( Harmony had talent, and Ezi needed a new partner in the event of my death to design the halls for our social gatherings and make birthday and thank-you cards for everybody)

10. My Tiky 20 eraser should go to Foslic and tell her she can have my bed space and the alarm clock. (not that she needed the alarm clock, we both were programmed to wake up at 5 mins to four, 5 mins before my alarm went off EVERYDAY)

11. Eh hen! Give Vivian my mattress o. (she spent her nights on the cold floors...long story)

12. Check my blue Mudd bag and give Ibk my new panties. Only the new ones o. And my stockings. And the bag too. (the greatest pest that ever lived, she'd beg you for the wierdest things...)

13. Give Kemi my rechargeable lamp. (My school daughter...Her's was broken)

14. Give Iheoma my Pressing Iron. (Another school daughter...she did the ironing anyways)

15. Tell that selfish that Toyosi she can read my Beyond Scandal and then give all my novels to my sister. (a worse book freak than me, she could read through an earthquake...champion suprise ruiner, i never let her read my novels before me)

16. Give my Modern Biology to Amaku and give the rest of my books to my cousin Yetunde in Hazoume’s class.

17. I stole that comprehension and summary text answers from Miss Emerewune (YAY), it’s in my box (313 is the pin), now everybody can stop scoring zero. Just cross your T’s and dot your I’s. And if you don’t want it, give it to Sandra to share with the others so you can keep you place at the bottom of the English class, Mother-in-Israel. (This our teacher, may her soul rest in peace, was impossible to please...I stole this answer booklet because that was our only way out...really it was)

18. Throw a room party and share my food (not the Kellogg’s stuff, give that to Vivian and my blanket too), don’t invite anybody from Room 4. Keep the Peanut butter for yourself and give Toyosi my garri. (Room 4 held their on party in secret, we actually invited 8 of them in the end when we couldn't stand their tears. Vivian again...long story)

19. Oh! Give my walkman to Okunsanya. (it was practically her's already)

Swit, I can’t remember everything jare, but share the rest of my stuff as you like...I trust you. Don’t be your usual mean self…lol. You can keep my white jacket (ur prayers have been answered) and give Ivy the red sweater...tell her she begged me to death.
I love you sooooo much but you can share the rest of my love equally among everybody.
Tell Lola and Foslic to remember to put extra pepper, salt and crayfish in the porridge and rice (without our extra help, the food in that dorm would have been a waste, everyday). Eh hen! Give mummy the rest of my water.
Be nice to everybody for me, and tell Bola, Sarah, Lolo and Aminat to please try and improve, for my sake. Oh! Give my Milo to Ms Anorexic and tell her I love her.
Love everybody for me. You can make it to the merit list, I know it...please don't sleep too much. That's the best thing i'm giving you, my space...share with Harriet, Ify, Philo and Sandra. You and Sandra should adopt all my school daughters, please. Forget about Ibk and Tosin Hazoume, they're big girls now. Please take care of Kemi, Iheoma, Ose and Sherifat, they can't squat and fly for too long.
Hey! And don’t cry too much, I am with y’all meen. Peace.

PS: my worst fears have been confirmed, I have died a virgin. (I remember exactly who I was thinking of when I wrote this...I'm laughing my ass off)

PIC: A card/bookmark Ezi made for me...from front to back.

After my surgery, my class, the WHOLE class , six teachers and two vice principals came to visit me at the clinic. Every single student wrote me a letter (or signed on someone elses's), I was busy reding and re-reading for three days. I had some complications afterwards with my stitches, I could've died...but I just couldn't, all the letters reminded me of the great life I was missing out on. I made it back to school after the 3 month long summer holiday, not full recovered, but around all my friends, it only took a few days, just like I told my folks. It's not really medicine that works, it's a will power to just be well...because it's hurting your loved ones to see you in a sorry state.

This will gets the award for the stupidest thing I ever did (one time I sprayed Baygon right in our Kerosene lamp…but this beats that). I decided to e-mail it to Ezi, just for the fun of it. Funny how I thought all these little little things were important. Truth is, it wasn’t really the food and stuff I was thinking about when I decided to give these things away, all I wanted was to share the love. I went to school with the best people in the world. A mixture of everything...good, bad and downright ugly. I was blessed. Oh! What I would give for one more day…just one. Finding this note yesterday admist all of this shit landing all around mehas done me a deal of good...I know how to be happy, I remember, I just need to try harder.

Anyways, back to the present. Now, about my problems...

Friday the 13th.

2008-06-13T12:49:00.004+01:00

Hmmnn.

Like many human beliefs, the fear of Friday the 13th (known as paraskevidekatriaphobia) isn't exactly grounded in scientific logic. But the really strange thing is that most of the people who believe the day is unlucky offer no explanation at all, logical or illogical. As with most superstitions, people fear Friday the 13th for its own sake, without any need for background information.

The superstition does have deep, compelling roots, however, and the origins help explain why the belief is so widespread today.

There have been a number of events known as "Black Fridays" in history. Usually, these events are devastating.

Some historians propose that the origin of the "Black Friday" was the simultaneous arrest of hundreds of Knights Templars on October 13, 1307 (Friday), to be later tortured into "admitting" heresy.

Today, the concept of Friday the 13th has been extended through the 'black Friday' concept to incorporate anything really bad that happens on a Friday.

The fear of Friday the 13th stems from two separate fears -- the fear of the number 13 and the fear of Fridays. Both fears have deep roots in Western culture, most notably in Christian theology.

Christians have traditionally been wary of Fridays because Jesus was crucified on a Friday. Additionally, some theologians hold that Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden fruit on a Friday, and that the Great Flood began on a Friday. In the past, many Christians would never begin any new project or trip on a Friday, fearing they would be doomed from the start.

Sailors were particularly superstitious in this regard, often refusing to ship out on a Friday. According to unverified legend (very likely untrue), the British Navy commissioned a ship in the 1800s called H.M.S. Friday, in order to quell the superstition. The navy selected the crew on a Friday, launched the ship on a Friday and even selected a man named James Friday as the ship's captain. Then, one Friday morning, the ship set off on its maiden voyage... and disappeared forever.

Ultimately, the complex folklore of Friday the 13th doesn't have much to do with people's fears today. The fear has much more to do with personal experience. People learn at a young age that Friday the 13th is supposed to be unlucky, for whatever reason, and then they look for evidence that the legend is true. The evidence isn't hard to come by, of course. If you get in a car wreck on one Friday the 13th, lose your wallet, or even spill your coffee, that day will probably stay with you. But if you think about it, bad things, big and small, happen all the time. If you're looking for bad luck on Friday the 13th, you'll probably find it.

Is Friday the 13th a particularly unlucky day? I think it could be, if you believe it is. Just as some prophecies are self-fulfilling, some beliefs are self-validating.

PS: Covenant University, Ota holds their convocation ceremony tagged (as usual) The Release of Eagles today, Friday the Thirteenth defying all myths and legends...Congrats Eagles.

Half Caste.

2008-06-10T19:32:00.004+01:00

May I walk happily,

May it be beautiful before me,

May it be beautiful behind me,

May it be beautiful below me,

May it be beautiful above me,

May it be beautiful all around me.

In beauty it is finished.

...-Navajo prayer.

I like this prayer a lot.
Most times I find myself reciting it as a reflex

In beauty it is finished.

Growing up in my family, I have been confused by religion, the concept of God, science and reason.
I have searched in speakable and unspeakable places alike for ways to exercise my faith.
I have found no answer.
I believe in God.
I am in love with God.
However, I am in doubt...most of the time.

I remember a time when, as a fresh un-corrupted teen, i'd spend most mornings in church, simply talking to God, praising Him, loving him.
I'd spend five evenings a week, in church, doing God's work.
I was strong, unshaken in my faith.
I was born again.
At first, it felt really really good. I was at peace...I was at peace, first with my body, and then with my soul.
Things started to happen, bad things...then they got worse. The brethren'ld call at my house and tell me not to doubt the Lord's doing, it was a test of faith.
Then I said to myself, 'If this was what it felt like to be born again...I want none of it...NONE...at least not now'

I had no problem implementing my decision, as far as religion was concerned in my home, to-each-his-own.

My mother is a deaconess...be not decieved by this however...it is just a title...no more, no less.

I am in awe of my father...

A thousand times a day,

between my thanks for other things,

a special thank-you song,

my heart with galdness sings,

because Dear God,

of all the dads in the world,

I chose the one you gave to me.

My father is a St. ...he is strong willed...yet so soft...he is...my father.

An Enigma.

My father is a marine engineer...

One day, some nine years ago, he came home...after three months at sea, and announced, first in Italian then later in English, 'I have found the way, I have seen God!'

First, I was confused at this new dad. I was really young at the time, but my father broke down the complex story of how he was called by Allah...my father...

he had become a Muslim.

My father! He hated Moslems...it was a miracle.

But he did not, by words or action, compel any of us to follow his path.

God called him to this new world...His policy was (and still is) to leave each one of us to discover the truth.

I have discovered the truth, really:

KULIU ALLAHU ADU

ALLAHU SAMADU

LA MU YA LIDI

WA LAMU YU LADI

WA LAMU YA KUN LA HU

KUN FU WAHAD.

There is only one God...there can be only one God.

How you choose to worship him is left to you...

But you must worship him.

I haven't found a way yet.

My mother won't help me...

My father...my father and his policy...

It's a case of good cop, worse cop.

So I say these prayers everyday, I speak to God in all the languages I understand...One day, He will show me the way...

He has to.

May I walk happily,

May it be beautiful before me,

May it be beautiful behind me,

May it be beautiful below me,

May it be beautiful above me,

May it be beautiful all around me.

In beauty it is finished.

Everyday life in L.C.H.E.

2008-06-02T16:22:00.017+01:00

I wrote this post before and published it...but it didn't come up...i's really pissed...having to do this again*hiss*. but i sorta remembered some things i'd left out before.

When we first moved to L.C.H.E, i wasn't excited about anything, at all.

We lived on the outskirts of Lagos prior to our relocation that was home-for real-but then, armed robbers sorta chased us away.

Anyways, my mother came home in one of those days when we'd had-it-up-to-here with the area and it's security (or lack of it) and said she'd found out about L.C.H.E's, I was fresh out of high school and looking up universities at the period, I thought it sounded Ivy League-ish so the first thing I asked was, 'How much is it???' then she said, 'about 120,000 p.a give or take', getting kinda excited, i exclaimed, 'really! it's far far cheaper than high school! , how long is my course??? where is it???', then she gave me her you're-sucha-fool look and said, 'we are moving, dum dum!' , 'oh!'

Moving homes is supposed to be like a big big decision but my parent's made theirs in three days, actually, it was the longest notice we've (my sis, bro and i) had from them, the shortest was one day.

As it wasn't even a school or anything like it, i didn't bother to find out what L.C.H.E meant before we moved, i didnt care. I was expecting the worst anyways, (it's what my mother suggested) so i wasn't really suprised to find this:

(we just recently got the blocks painted)Every block has got six flats, in my zone (zone is a term for 'a cluster of as-many-as-possible blocks' with a chairman, a financial secretary and one or two PHCN transformers), the flats vary from two to three bedrooms, K,T&B (kitchen, toilet and bath).

Anyways, for mail's sake (I LOVE snail-mail, even if it's just bank statements) , i found out that L.C.H.E meant Low Cost Housing Estate, and i wasn't really suprised, duh!

This place is really strange most of the time. Every day, almost nothing changes. Recently, i realised that it's always the same routine.

4:00AM

‘EEEEE RROONU PIN WA DAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!’, every morning I wake up to a preacher’s voice. The woman’s a screamer, but then, her voice is not as loud as the bell she ties to the yellow belt on her white church garment.
‘EEEEE RROOONU PIN WA DAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!’ (Repent),
I have lived here for over three years,but, everyday, I wake up really shocked, wondering what exactly is responsible then I hear the very pesky voice again, ‘OLOHUN NNN BOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!’ (Jesus is coming!!!), this goes on for 30 minutes max and then she moves on to another zone.
This woman is the quietest, most tolerable and most considerable one of all the preachers in my estate: she doesn’t carry a mega phone.

5:00 AM
I snooze for another thirty minutes before the guard dogs go off on themselves. These dogs are the worst, most uncontrollable monsters in the world…and they’re programmed to start barking to death at exactly 5:00am (for about 10 minutes) every single day! This queer behavior baffles me. How’s it possible get these dogs to do this??? My neighbor says there’s some African magic involved. I don’t care; I hate what these little monsters do.

By the way, did I mention that the vigilantes ring a giant bell every hour from 1:00am till 6:00am??? Once at 1:00am; twice at 2:00am, etc etc. Just so we all know that they’re at work every night and don’t delay their monthly salaries.

6:30AM
‘Breedi re butter re’ (here’s bread and butter), “EEE RA BUREDI, E PO TEA O” (buy bread and make some tea). ‘Aaagegee BREAD!!!’ The first bread seller in my zone announces her resumption. If there are 200,000 people living in my estate, 30,000 people sell Agege bread, another 160,000 help them earn their living.
They (the bread hawkers) are omnipresent (in the scorching sun and the heaviest rain), every time (except when you actually need to buy their bread like crazy).

When I hear the first bread-song, I know it’s time to wake up.

a bread seller in action

7:00AM
‘E KAA RO OLOGI DE O!’ (Good morning, the pap seller is here), ‘E KAA RO OLOGI N KI YIN O!’ (It’s the pap seller greeting you oh!). If when I hear this, I’m still in bed, I know it’s really time for me to get up. They don’t last as long as the bread sellers or the preachers, sometimes, if I don’t listen carefully, I miss them, or mistake them for the bread sellers.

7:20AM
‘GBAAAANNN!!!! GABAAANNN!!!!! GABAAAAAAANNNN!!!!! KOLE KOLE!!’, I can feel every annoying thump right in my head. If I’m still in bed when they come, the crazy sound beats me wide awake and I’m up for the day, that’s it!
These garbage packers are the most self centered MOFO’s to have have ever walked the face of the earth…but they’re useful when they serve their purpose once in a while; which is getting me out of bed and clearing my garbage container.
If I'm still in bed when they come, the crazy sound beats me wide awake and i'm up for the day, that's it!

7:30AM
Sometimes they come earlier, or later, give or take; they start around 7:30. THUMP! THUMP!! THUMP! THUMP THUMP THUMPTHUMPTHUMP THUMP!!! They’re the shoe-shiners, they don’t say anything, they just bang on their wooden makeshift stools hanging over their shoulders. They polish a pair of shoes for 10naira, glue soles back for about 20naira and above, depending on the extent of the damage, anyways, they’re there to treat sick shoes.
But whenever I need them, I stay away from the Hausa ones; they don’t know anything, the Ghanaian guys are the pros.

8:00AM-5:30PM
Think of any hawk-able thing in the world, it’s sold between this time. The fish sellers, pepper sellers, mobile tailors (obi-omas), plantain sellers, yoghurt vendors, Barcelo-niggas ( these ones are the funny ones, they sell these things they call ‘Ghana buns’, mostly to little kids), traditional drug vendors, p’on be p’on be (knife sharpeners), come-buy-papers (these ones BUY papers from people and then re-sell to their own customers), crayfish sellers, even more evangelists (with deafening loudspeakers and mega phones, making salvation seem really unattractive) etc, etc.

Ironically, the estate is as quiet as any neighbourhood can get. Once you can get past all the buying and selling and simply mind your own business.

After 6:00pm, when all the young football-playing boys and the ten-ten girls have retired to their flats, the lovers come out. This is the real show. My estate is a typical player's playground. These guys have at least one girlfriend in each zone, really. I wonder if the girls are blind or simply don't want to face the truth.

Surprisingly, it's the teenage fathers that these girls find more attractive. Many of them (the boys) don't like to go to school, they have day jobs at the different cyber cafes around. And I see them doing pretty well. No one has made me the judge o, so I just mind my business.

What happens after 10:00pm??? I cannot see...I can only hear from my room; the music from the loudspeakers (the DeeJays are half as much as the bread sellers) and I imagine the nighttime lovers doing their did. Enticing the girls with chicken suyas (the mai-suyas are half as many as the Dee Jays, lol) and other eatables. Around 11:30pm, the noise stops. Everybody goes home, and i get ready for the female preacher's alarm tomorrow.

My estate isn't really fun (for me) but it's safe...we don't even have a cop shop, i guess we don't need one.

The new woomie o!

2008-05-29T15:27:00.002+01:00

So, somebody (special, btw) accused my blog of being colorless. I had little or no idea that i could even change the template lol.

I didn't like the old one that much either...i laaaahhvvvvvvvvvvvvvv the color green.

Anyways, it's still the same old me.

You and YOU (and you too) take note.

PS: This Democracy Day is kinda pointless.

Congrats BG!!!!! Yoou made it!!! Hallalujah!

2008-05-27T17:39:00.004+01:00

My bestest, nearest and dearest friend just graduated from college with a 4.0!!!

AFTER FOUR LONG HARD YEARS AT TRINITY D.C, SHE FINALLY MADE IT!!! in more than one piece! phewww!

I'm really proud of her...so i promised to share the great news in my own little world.

Ezi worked hard for this, I'm a witness.

I'm a witness of the great great great person she is.

I'm grateful to God for crossing our paths...and then marking the spot where they crossed with this wonderful friendship.

Ezi's the kinda daughter i'd love to raise (maybe much more smarter(lol) and more laid back about stuff than her)-very selfless and caring...and genuine.

I spent three years in high school with Ezi. Those were the three happiest years of my life so far. When t'was almost graduation time for us, she planned, gathered funds and threw me a surprise birthday party. She made sure everyone that mattered was present:friends, foes, and mere acquaintances from far and near. We had fun that day, she brought us all together again, one last time...one last time that really mattered. Hard as i try, I'll never be able to forget that day.
Its' still the happiest, most perfect day of my life.

When she's around, everything seems o.k. She's a good problem-solver...um, but sometimes she gives up and I'm there for her.

Now, she's so far away and most things are kinda dysfunctional. I miss her. She keeps in touch like crazy but i miss the fun that woulda been if she were here...or i was there...if we were just together.

Like most of the few friends I have, she's a devout Roman Catholic. I can tell she fears God.

If three of my six daughters (in future) turn out like her...and the remaining three turn out better (that'll mean they'll be as angelic as possible) then i'd be the happiest mother in the world (as long as the two boys don't become more than one handful each)

She wants to major in Psychology and everone's trying to discourage her (except me, I plan to study Paediatric Psychology as soon as I finish dealing with Accounting - My Father's Love)

I hope she makes the right choice (the only one that makes her happy). She's good at what she does so that shouldn't be a problem.

I'm glad about the way she has rubbed off on me (and I hope she can say the same about me). I have been unable to make a friend (girlfriend) as special and as perfect. ( I try hard with Keenat sha, LMAO, she's nice tooo, before she sees this LOL)

OK! enough of BG! before her heAd goes on and bursts.
(Anyways, i have refused to tell my my blog address so she's safe.)

Thank God for her...Just like me, she's cut out for great things. May our future be blindingly fluorescent...Amen.

No more Yahoozee jare!

2008-05-26T12:30:00.006+01:00

I heard about this song by Harry Best from (who seems like my only blogger friend, lol!) Laspapi's blog.

I completely got hoooked on the real yahoozee song by Olu...nice beats, very danceable and all...but many people don't really understand what Olu is really trying to maintain here.

It took me a while to find out what the slang yahoozee means...BUT over and over Olu has maintained that the literal meaning of the term wasn't/isn't the message he was/is passing across with his music...well, good for him BUT DRUMROLL...it's too late.

I remember when i really understood what 'yahoo/yahoozee meant'.

That night I was discussing with Rex about making good money with his Linkserve connection instead of facebook-ing and myspace-ing all the time. I'd actually meant 'yahoo-money'.

(my friend, DL had recently gotten a car gift from her cool boyfriend who she said was/is a yahoo-boy, car's mad fine. So i's trying to encourage one or two of my generous boyfriends to do this yahoo thing so I can stop Danfo-ing around lagos)

Anyways, Rex sat me down and askd, 'do you even know what 'yahoo' is sef? and i'm like,'not exactly, but i know it involves spending a lot of time online and making money after weeks or months depending on how smart you are. I also know that it is sometimes illegal'. So he gives me that is-this-woomie-for-real-look? that means he's pissed/disgusted/amused at once and he says, 'it is ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS illegal! that's why they call it yahoo dum-dum'

So he went ahead to explain the kinds of bussinesses that yahoo boys get involved in, like the fake bank and traveller's cheques, online dating and mating and the likes. I'm like, how come you know all these things? Have you tried it? Rex is a great guy, i was just trying to get on his nerves anyways so he says, 'I can't try stuff like that. It's illegal, sinful (Rex is a devout Roman Catholic) and far too risky etc. etc. and besides, i'm smart (rubbing it in), if I put all that brain-work into something really legal, we can enjoy the money without bothering about EFCC and ICPC trailing us.
I's really proud of him.

And then i began to see my friends who spent too much time online in a new light.

Sometimes I'd wonder how anyone of them jobless boys came about their sudden affluence and look at them with cynicism.

There's actually great excuses for these boys and why they do what they do (i always say 'sometimes, there's a reasonable reason people behave unreasonably).

Considering the surfiet Nigeria is suffering from and how wealth has suddenly begun to flow in from different angles...one can't blame a few ignorant yahoo-people who have refused to stand still in their poverty.
Most of them are however more greedy than hopeless but nobody made me the judge. As long as I can keep my head and help others who want to stay around me do the same then all is well.

The ing-thing is 'hammering' and buying cars but i will always insist that there are sooooooooooooooooo so many things that you can do besides scamming people. Afterall, (in Lord of Ajasa's words) Ali-baba ma make e, nse l'on se yeye. As long as you find out what you're legally cut of for, then you're good to go.

But what's my sotto-voce tiny piece of advice admist this yahoozee/hammer/hummer craze???

(BTW, why should the first thing i buy with my 'hammer-money' be a hummer??? dum dum.)

Nigerians, let's keep on making good music, but watch it with the lyrics!

Thank you jare Harry for 'no more yahoozee'.

Like the photo says, the decision is urs.

FIND OUT WHAT YOUR P IS! it's definitely not yahoozee.

I LEFT THIS SPACE FOR YOU.

2008-05-24T17:23:00.002+01:00

I still don’t understand how we’ve managed to grow this far apart. I know it is I who moved and not you. I’m trying to retrace my steps, but it’s so hard, I need you to help me.

Life was so much fun when I was around you. When we were best friends. There wasn’t a thing I couldn’t share. How I loved you! And you me!

Then things started to happen, and I stopped believing in the miracle of our friendship. Gradually, I began to be convinced that I really didn’t need to show much I need you, that you’d always be there.

Now I know I was wrong. I took you for granted. I took your love for granted. I am so sorry.

I have realized that the major reason why I want you back is because I need you, it’s selfish, I know, and I am truly ashamed of myself. You do not need me as much as I need you. I shouldn’t really matter that much to you but day by day, you show me - in many ways - that you’re there for me. I know for a fact that you will keep your promise to never leave my alone…always and forever.

I’m really ashamed to ask any favor of you cos I remember a time when it wasn’t only you that gave. I remember a time when I made you happy, when I gave – and generously so.

I loved you. I loved you back with all of my heart and you were so good to me (not that you’ve stopped). That’s how it should have stayed.

But then, I began to share your love with others. I completely regret it. I have learned the hard way that people change; one day they like you, the next they don’t. Not everyone, in fact, no one can love me like you do, unconditionally, holding nothing back.

Once again, I want it all, all the loving kindness I stupidly threw away. I know you are so merciful, I guess that’s why I was so laid back about messing things up between us over and over again.

I have learnt so many things about you these past couple of years. I believe we can be together again. I know I’ll be able to maintain a wonderful friendship with you- just like old times.

I miss you so much. I whisper to you everyday, but I wonder if you can hear me. It’s only with your help that I can stay so close to you forever.

I love you God, let’s be together again…please.

Dance With My Father Again.

2008-05-22T14:36:00.003+01:00

Back when I was a child
Before life removed all the innocence,
My father would lift me high
And dance with my mother and me
And then spin me around till I fell asleep
And up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved

If I could get another chance
Another walk
Another dance with him
I’d play a song that would never ever end
Cos I’d love love love
To dance with my father again

Sometimes I’d listen outside her door
And I’d hear how mama cried for him
I’d pray for her even more than me

I know I’m praying for much too much
But could you send the only man she loved
I know you don't do it usually
But dear Lord she's dying
To dance with my father again

Every night I fall asleep
And this is all I ever dream.

-Luther Vandross

my father isn't dead (God forbid! not yet)...but he doesn't dance anymore...lol!

i like the song...alot.

Hottest in rag trade.

2008-05-21T12:31:00.002+01:00

I got some priviledged information courtesy of my old friend T.K. This new clothing line is really it. I got a look at some of its T-Shirts and the stiches got me hooked. I love it...the little details...almost better than those original London Hackett shirts all the dudes scream for. And then there's the jackets...kinda Elstaff-ish.
Anyways, i hope they hit the market big time soon. Naija's on its way.
(there's also g-strings for the chics)
Prices are kinda right...
Quality's tight.

PS: i said it first.

For the love of money!

2008-05-10T19:25:00.002+01:00

I've got less than twenty-two days to find a job (or quit lookin) for the next three months. You never know how hard it can get till you try.
I'm disappointed, I'm angry but more importantly, I'm broke.

Anyways, for lack of better things to do, i found myself reading my old journal from about six years ago and i found this interesting joke.

One sunday service in church, the Pastor decided to explain the spiritual benefits of giving - and generously so. When it came to time to collect the offering, as a catalyst to enriching the church's pockets, the pastor jokingly said to the men, "if your wife is beautiful, let your offering be much", one man stood up and said, " my wife is as beautiful as the lillies so i give 1 million naira" , another stood up and said, 'i offer 500,000 naira to the church bcuz my wife is very beautiful', it went on and on till one man stood up and said, 'i'll give 5 naira', the pastor, shocked, asked why, the man replied, 'if you see my wife, you will give me change'

Tagged!

2008-05-03T21:23:00.008+01:00

So, i was tagged by laspapi (who, btw, has refused to follow all the rules sef *-:**) Anyways, i already saw it,so here goes.

1. Link the person who tagged you -
2. Mention the rules in your blog –
3. Tell 6 unspectacular quirks of yours –
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them -
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged

1. laspapi

2. did that already.

then 3. six unspectular quirks. (that's not fair! i have a lot)

1. i always like to go commando right after my time of the month (but! never with skirts) to make up for the discomfort of the previous days.

2. i never have appetite for ANYTHING until i have brushed my teeth.

3. I have a weakness for beautiful bags and purses. When i see a lady, it's her handbag i notice first.

4. my favourite thing to do is THINK, i think i think for a living.

5 i have a strong phobia for strange places (filled with strange people who kinda know each other) Often times, i don't like to stand out, i just like to fit in.

6. people do not know that i haven't actually seen them when i say, 'hi back at ya!' or wave 'hi's' and 'hello's'...i have astigmatism.

4. Can't tag nobody. I don't think i know a blogger who hasn't already done this. lol!

5. Sorry, can't follow rule 5.

I killed her...

2008-05-02T21:45:00.002+01:00

IT'S WHAT I THINK.
I was going on 7 (or was i going on 8 at that time????, the memories get more and more hazy)
A few years earlier, we'd just moved to a more secure neigbhourhood. Everyone (i mean my sister and brother) liked their new schools, except me. The kids were mean, the lunch was terrible and the toilet was an eyesore. I was a smart kid, and they hated me even more.
I had no friends, i always thought it was because i hadn't gotten my school uniform yet so they didn't see me as one of them...yet. Not long after i started this new school, we had a 'newer'-comer in our class. I remember vividly how she looked on her first day, just like me, she had one of those aunty-give-me-cake gowns, church shoes and her hair was tied up in rubber thread.
'Class this is 'Anthonia', welcome her' then the bunch of mean kids mumbled something and she got the empty seat on my bench...misery loves company. I remember this day vividly, i don't care how many pranks my mind plays on me. I made a friend that day. She was born in July, just like me. We were the same size, same height, same complexion. We only had different faces. We'd sometimes lie that we were sisters. The kids at school weren't so mean anymore, and if they were, we didn't care.

It didn't take long for me to discover how incredibly smart Anthonia was. Together, we'd decide who we wanted to come first and second on the tests and exams. We never really competed for first and second positions in our class, my parents didn't mind when i came second and she came first (and neither did her's) , better her than someone else. I remember she didn't have a father. I remember telling her we could share mine, and we did.

We were funny kids, stars of the teaching-staff room. I remember there was a fish tank in that office. Every afternoon at lunch break, we'd go in there and feed the fish, it was a goldfish. We'd crack jokes everytime about how we wanted to taste the fish and all. Anthonia knew how to laugh. I remember her laughter, it was deep, shrill, intense, always with tears in her eyes. We had no worries, never threw tantrums. We had fun.

Everyday after school, we'd walk down a few blocks to my house where her mum usually picked her up after work. While we waited for four o'clock for NTA to come up, we'd play all sorts of games, I remember it was she who taught me how to skip, and she was my hero when it came to 'ten-ten', she always won when we played 'catcher' and whenever we got tired, we'd sit in the house and watch VOLTRON- defender of the universe or Power Rangers till her mother came, sometimes, she'd sleep over.

I remember we loved to drink garri. We did it everyday, with groundnut. They called us Woomie-Epa and Toni-Epa.

Joker-Jellies were in vouge. My mother got us each a pair, one blue pair and one pink pair. (We pioneered that foot wear in my neighbourhood.) It was hard for us to choose, they were both beautiful. I took the blue anyways but when we ran errands, we'd exchange right legs so we'd each have a blue leg and a pink leg. It pissed my mother off all the time, but we'd still do it when she wasn't looking.

It was the end of the school year and her mother told me they were moving again. I had no idea what it meant at that time so i remember NOT remembering.

We'd tied at first position that term. I remember we weren't too excited, we'd already gotten used to it. I remember the walk home that friday afternoon, the Jumat service going on in the mosque about two blocks away. We always stopped for a while to watch them bow and chant, this day was no different, i recall. There were always arabs and other 'onyibos' there on fridays, Anthonia and i liked to stare at them.

We got home that afternoon and decided on a game of 'catcher'. I was a lazy child, i always turned the game of 'catcher' into another game of 'hide-and-seek' whenever it was my turn to be chased, I remember that was why she'd never let me catch her. I got tired of chasing and i wanted garri and groundnut as usual. We walked towards the gate together, i remember the shop where the groundnut was sold, right opposite my house. I remember shoving her that day, and'i've caught you!', 'i've caught you', 'go and buy the groundnut and come and catch me back'. Mad at my sudden victory, she raced towards the shop, backing the road and screaming at me. I remember that road, it wasn't a busy one.
As i closed my eyes and stood there thinking of which 'hole' to go and hide this time,i heard the tires sreeching (i still hear them now). I opened my eyes and stood there paralysed, i couldn't see Anthonia, people had gathered around the front of uncle Jimi's car, i keep thinking that if there had been less people there that day, i'd still have Anthonia. I heard the shouts and screams of the women (i still hear them now), still i couldn't move. I remember Uncle Jimi lifting her to the car, then i saw her face, she looked strange, there were tears in hey eyes, almost as if she was laughing. I knew it took the last bit of strength in her, but Anthonia kicked off my blue foot of Joker-Jelly, like she knew i'd get in trouble for it. Still, i couldn't move, i didn't care about it or any other thing at that moment. I just stood there, still, minutes after the Uncle Jimi drove off.
I remember it was my Aunt who came and picked me up from the gate. I remember i didn't talk for days. I remember not drinking garri or eating groundnut for a while.
I remember nobody talked about Anthonia ever again. I know they all think i can't remember. But i see that day everyday. I see her everyday. And sometimes, i talk to her, i know it's only me in the dialouge, but still, it feels good.
I have NEVER opened my mouth to talk about Anthonia to my mum or anyone (maybe i never will), I always write about it and then tear up the paper. I can't tear this up, I know she deserves to be remembered.
I don't know if she survived, if they moved or if i'll ever see her again. A part of me tells me I am me today because she happened to me ( i never would have mastered my 13-15 times table if it wasn't for her)
I never played 'catcher' or 'hide-and-seek' ever ever again. I hate those games.
I love my friend Anthonia, she's like my super-ego now,
I love the memory of her,
her laughter,
her tears,
and the Joker-jellies.

I REMEMBER.

2008-04-30T20:44:00.000+01:00

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.

2008-04-30T13:56:00.000+01:00

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.

2008-04-29T12:41:00.000+01:00

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.

2008-04-27T06:46:00.000+01:00

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!

2008-04-26T13:22:00.000+01:00

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,

2008-04-24T18:43:00.000+01:00

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...

2008-04-22T19:49:00.000+01:00

...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'

2008-04-21T19:08:00.000+01:00

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.

2008-04-17T17:36:00.000+01:00

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.

2008-04-16T21:53:00.001+01:00

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!!!

2008-04-12T19:28:00.001+01:00

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.

2008-04-11T16:31:00.000+01:00

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

2008-04-08T17:30:00.000+01:00

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

2008-04-07T23:12:00.000+01:00

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...

2008-04-04T16:27:00.000+01:00

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

2008-04-02T13:50:00.000+01:00

...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.

The long road home

2008-03-31T21:17:00.000+01:00

so with a little help from my first blogger-friend, , my bestest friend, Keenat and of course Dolly Parton, I'm taking the long road home. I got a compass, a free ride and music for the road from each of them. ( and they have no idea!)

At least i have some answers...and now i know i can't have ALL the answers AT ONCE...but like i said, i'll be fine.

Life comes at me from out of the darkness and now i know that at times, i can struggle to find the courage to face it.

Thank you , thank you Keenat and of course, thank you Dolly. Y'all are right, life's beautiful, life's short, i have life...and even though i needed y'all to tell me, now i know that i love life.

And in the end, destiny is only a journey...not THE end.

i love y'all tonnnes.

Hard candy Christmas

2008-03-30T20:15:00.001+01:00

Hey! Maybe I’ll dye my hair!
Maybe I’ll move somewhere!
Maybe I’ll get a car!
Maybe I’ll drive so far that I’ll lose track
Me I’ll bounce right back
Maybe I’ll settle down!
Maybe I’ll lose some weight!
Maybe I’ll meet someone and make him mine...
Me I’ll be just fine
Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas
I’m barely getting thru tomorrow
But still I won't let sorrow bring me way down
I’ll be fine...

still missing(...not yet presumed dead ! )

2008-03-22T08:59:00.000+01:00

So here’s the thing…I’ve had a big problem deciding what my next post should be.
Somehow, I feel that by blogging, I’m betraying my 2-year old journal. If I tell you everything(CUZ I REALLY DO SHARE!!!), what else is left to share with her (or him???...still don’t know my journal’s sex)???
There’s so many stuff happening right now that I need answers to, when I silently ask why?? Will you give me the right answer…not the good answer or the bad answer or what you think I want to hear BUT the right answer…?
You kinda have to give me a good reason to betray my good old friend…you kinda have to give me answers.
I know that some things in life are clear and most others aren’t…just hazy…but in between these two, there are doors…will you be my door?
P-L-E-A-S-E!

Compass P-L-E-A-S-E !!! ...anyone???

2008-02-25T16:29:00.000+01:00

I'm lost! No i'm waaay past lost...

I have no idea how i got here or why i didn't ask for directions...stubborn me...

So here i am...with my very first post YAY!!!

First impressions...

So anyone out there with directions to where i'm going???

Wait a minute! Where am i going???

I have no idea...yet!

be right back.