So the day of the robbery is now forever noted in my mind has happened, and my mother has decided my life is no longer my own. I understand how she feels, she does not feel safe, and since she cannot protect me by keeping me tied to her apron string, she has decided to follow me to all the NYSC/ reposting things that need to be done.
Don’t get me wrong I really appreciate the NYSC part because it means that all the things they’ll not do for me they will do for my mother. The other part of it is that she would see for herself all the things I have been going through, that she I don’t think she really believed. Either way on the endless journey to find somewhere to get posted, we went to MITV. Now you know I ‘m not one to name locations of places other than the NYSC and some clubs, but I need to name these *people* because they are full of ***t.
I arrived at MITV with my mother, it was the day of my CD, and we had gone to the secretariat to explain the situation to the state coordinator, so I was in my kit as well. When we arrived, we went in search of the relevant people to speak to, and boy did we found her. The *woman* kept us waiting for nearly an hour, when she said she would see us in 5 mins, but we were the ones asking for something, so we waited. When she finally arrived, we saw it as an opportunity to present our case; she saw it as an opportunity to insult me and my mother.
The first thing she said when we explained the situation to her was to ask that if I got a job for N450000, would I go to Lekki? Well I answered yes, because I would be able to buy a car and would not have to worry about 75% of the things that have happened to me. She then went on to say that my mother should not have followed me to them, despite our explaining the circumstances that made my mother come up with me, she continually tried to undermine and humiliate me. Being the gobby person that I am, I deflected it, I explained to her the situation and just to discombobulate her told her of my experience and education. You should have seen her face fall, the witch looked as though someone shoved her big gob up her backside.
My mother was so pissed off, she kept saying that she only had 2 children and was not about to let one of them end up dead because of naija.
I tell this story because this week has taught me a lot about how much crap I can take. The job with another organisation that I felt was in the bag, seems to be falling through because the person in charge can’t make up her mind. The second organisation, are also stuck between the ‘I am important and have control of your life syndrome’, which means they are taking their sweet time about letting me know if they are willing to accept me.
As per usual I am feeling less than up to par, and any luster that naija had or has is fading rather quickly. So if you think you have had an embarrassing experience, just consider me, my mother who followed me to a possible job interview and the insult we faced at the hands of a woman who could really do with going to a good hairdresser.
(Now for current news)
Post NYSC, would you know it but I actually have power over this *woman’s* life, as my ‘exalted’ position now puts me in direct contact with her boss who is always willing to do what I say. As for the *woman*, when I go to their office, she brings me drinks…….. never, ever forget that the person you step on today to show your might you might end up serving drinks in the nearest future. Ain’t life grand!!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
They stole my laptop, and nobody came to help me!!!! August 27, 2007
I was going to put in this edition of the blog, all the things that okadas and the riders had done to me. I was going to detail the near kidnapping, the burn on my leg, and the danfo incident where I fell out of the moving bus because the driver changed gear abruptly. I was going to detail it, and don’t worry that will soon come but I have to tell this story first.
What incident I hear you ask, well to put it simply, I was robbed and beaten by two men on an okada. .
I’m not sure I let you know, but due to holidays and co, I had to move from Lekki back to Ikeja, the place of my weekly exodus, my parents home, the place I had hoped to escape, but more on that later. What this move meant was that I had to wake up at 4.30am and leave the house at 5.45am to get the staff bus from Maryland for 6.30am.
On this particular morning, (22/08/2007) I left at the usual time and had walked about 15 minutes to go and get the bus, when suddenly out of nowhere, an unlit okada drew up in front of me. Before I knew it one of the men on the bike leapt off grabbed hold of my laptop case and demanded I give it to him. Me being the hard headed heifer that I am said NO, I had seen something shiny in his hand, but I was so angry I just said NO again and started screaming for help.
Don’t get me wrong, I was not being brave, but I was in a lit place and less than a few steps from me, there were about 20 people men istanding doing nothing, so when I screamed I expected some help. Anyways, to cut a long story longer, he started pulling at the bag and I held on, shouting for help, screaming for help. When he saw that I was not going to let go, he started punching me, I fell to the ground, and he started kicking me, but I held on, it cost me a lot of money to buy that laptop, I took out an overdraft that I am still repaying to buy that laptop. Eventually the strap of the bag broke and the man jumped on the bike and they drove off.
Now this is the unfunny thing, less than two seconds after these men rode off, about 4 people approached me asking if I were alright. They started asking if someone stole something from me, how horrible these okada men were, what was wrong (at this point I was howling and saying I wanted to go back to England, there was a lot of snot). When they started to say all of this, well you know me, I turned and screamed at them, telling them they were evil, seeing me struggling and crying for help and nobody coming to my aid, I went on for a bit. I mean I was holding onto that bag for about 2 mins, in fact I thought to myself during the struggle that this man did not have a gun or knife, because if he had he would have killed me. Either way I turned to them and told them that they were wankers and that they should go fuck themselves, and went back home, crying and broken
It has been a rough couple of days, because of the incident, I have to leave my place of work, its just not safe trying to get to work in the morning. The only way to get to work and have any money at the end of the month is to take the staff bus, and the bus leaves at 6.30am on the dot. So my mother in her infinite wisdom has decreed that I have to work closer to home, her argument is that she only gave birth to 2 children and that she holds each one in one hand each so nothing will happen to them. I understand the motivations, and I am in agreement, but what still boggles my mind is the fact that I screamed for help and no-one came.
I know that I am to blame, after all I took my laptop with me in a place my sister tells me is one rung up from hell, but like all other victims I never thought it would happen to me. Its just something you hear happen to other people, and it is a rather old and useless tale to tell. I feel really demoralized, I keep being told that I should not have fought, what if they had a knife or gun I could have been killed, but you know in a way I wish I had been.
You see all I am aware of at the moment is that my life is destined to be a punching bag to the world, knocked around here, left to suffer there. England, Nigeria, all I am able to do or be is a victim of life,( boy would Femi be proud of me quoting his song title in my depression I have become a tale in one of his songs). I am trying to put on a brave face, they keep telling me that at least I have my life, and that I should increase my face value, the problem is that I AM VERY UPSET. Yes, I am and ANGRY, at myself mostly, I should have known better.
Gotta go, I won’t be able to update as often as before, you know, as I told you my laptop has been stolen and the place I could get wireless connection is a thing of my past. Don’t miss me too much, I will be back soon, I just need to go and lick my wounds of which they are many and bleeding.
This naija life hard o, if things continue this way, I go end up naija girl, before you fit say OLE.
Don’t worry, I am just a bit depressed at the moment, but looking back, this is not a new thing, so look out, because when I get back on this super highway, I would be driving like a danfo driver high on ogogoro with titles such as:
Is ambition ever too much?
Can you justify being second best?
Would you accept a boob job for a present?
Men and their machinations - ok so this one is an ongoing thingy!!
Look out for Okada don kill me o
What incident I hear you ask, well to put it simply, I was robbed and beaten by two men on an okada. .
I’m not sure I let you know, but due to holidays and co, I had to move from Lekki back to Ikeja, the place of my weekly exodus, my parents home, the place I had hoped to escape, but more on that later. What this move meant was that I had to wake up at 4.30am and leave the house at 5.45am to get the staff bus from Maryland for 6.30am.
On this particular morning, (22/08/2007) I left at the usual time and had walked about 15 minutes to go and get the bus, when suddenly out of nowhere, an unlit okada drew up in front of me. Before I knew it one of the men on the bike leapt off grabbed hold of my laptop case and demanded I give it to him. Me being the hard headed heifer that I am said NO, I had seen something shiny in his hand, but I was so angry I just said NO again and started screaming for help.
Don’t get me wrong, I was not being brave, but I was in a lit place and less than a few steps from me, there were about 20 people men istanding doing nothing, so when I screamed I expected some help. Anyways, to cut a long story longer, he started pulling at the bag and I held on, shouting for help, screaming for help. When he saw that I was not going to let go, he started punching me, I fell to the ground, and he started kicking me, but I held on, it cost me a lot of money to buy that laptop, I took out an overdraft that I am still repaying to buy that laptop. Eventually the strap of the bag broke and the man jumped on the bike and they drove off.
Now this is the unfunny thing, less than two seconds after these men rode off, about 4 people approached me asking if I were alright. They started asking if someone stole something from me, how horrible these okada men were, what was wrong (at this point I was howling and saying I wanted to go back to England, there was a lot of snot). When they started to say all of this, well you know me, I turned and screamed at them, telling them they were evil, seeing me struggling and crying for help and nobody coming to my aid, I went on for a bit. I mean I was holding onto that bag for about 2 mins, in fact I thought to myself during the struggle that this man did not have a gun or knife, because if he had he would have killed me. Either way I turned to them and told them that they were wankers and that they should go fuck themselves, and went back home, crying and broken
It has been a rough couple of days, because of the incident, I have to leave my place of work, its just not safe trying to get to work in the morning. The only way to get to work and have any money at the end of the month is to take the staff bus, and the bus leaves at 6.30am on the dot. So my mother in her infinite wisdom has decreed that I have to work closer to home, her argument is that she only gave birth to 2 children and that she holds each one in one hand each so nothing will happen to them. I understand the motivations, and I am in agreement, but what still boggles my mind is the fact that I screamed for help and no-one came.
I know that I am to blame, after all I took my laptop with me in a place my sister tells me is one rung up from hell, but like all other victims I never thought it would happen to me. Its just something you hear happen to other people, and it is a rather old and useless tale to tell. I feel really demoralized, I keep being told that I should not have fought, what if they had a knife or gun I could have been killed, but you know in a way I wish I had been.
You see all I am aware of at the moment is that my life is destined to be a punching bag to the world, knocked around here, left to suffer there. England, Nigeria, all I am able to do or be is a victim of life,( boy would Femi be proud of me quoting his song title in my depression I have become a tale in one of his songs). I am trying to put on a brave face, they keep telling me that at least I have my life, and that I should increase my face value, the problem is that I AM VERY UPSET. Yes, I am and ANGRY, at myself mostly, I should have known better.
Gotta go, I won’t be able to update as often as before, you know, as I told you my laptop has been stolen and the place I could get wireless connection is a thing of my past. Don’t miss me too much, I will be back soon, I just need to go and lick my wounds of which they are many and bleeding.
This naija life hard o, if things continue this way, I go end up naija girl, before you fit say OLE.
Don’t worry, I am just a bit depressed at the moment, but looking back, this is not a new thing, so look out, because when I get back on this super highway, I would be driving like a danfo driver high on ogogoro with titles such as:
Is ambition ever too much?
Can you justify being second best?
Would you accept a boob job for a present?
Men and their machinations - ok so this one is an ongoing thingy!!
Look out for Okada don kill me o
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
My little Cortina 15/08/2007
Thank you for all your support, over the last few days, don't worry the past week will soon become a note!! lol!
I have a carrrrrr. I have a carrrrr, I have a carrrr. Okay so it is the jalopy of jalopis, in fact jalopies would move ten thousand miles away from it, but I have a carrrrr. It is my mother’s probably as old as me Mitsubushi Lancer, yes a Lancer. It farts, the interior looks like something out of the black lagoon and it is kinda rusted, but it is mine. In as much anything given to you by your Nigerian parents can be yours (I have been subtly, not quite so subtly told that I cannot drive it to the island, so they think).
What else about the jalopy, I am thinking of calling her Princess Farts-a-lot, but that is kinda predictable. I took it to the mechanic/ body people, and they told me it would cost N60000 naira (proxy £250) to fix it, this they tell to a girl who has not managed to save a kobo on her £50 salary.
I can’t say that I have been having a lot of fun recently, but then my life has not been a total bust either. Going home for the weekend, visiting friends, I have made some new friends, but they are all leaving and pissing off to the states and England respectively, wankers. I am going to be in a music video though, this friend of mine, is making a music video and I do not have to be a booty girl.
Now I mention this because most of the offers I have had to be in music videos have been for me to be a booty girl. I find this very funny because I have no booty to speak of and I don’t really look like a booty girl, I’m more the ‘you look like my mother’ kinda girl. This is not good since I am not married; do not have kids and well you know if you have read the other blog thingys you would know that I am actively looking. For what you might ask, well if I knew that I probably would not be looking. Anyways that is me for now.
I have a carrrrrr. I have a carrrrr, I have a carrrr. Okay so it is the jalopy of jalopis, in fact jalopies would move ten thousand miles away from it, but I have a carrrrr. It is my mother’s probably as old as me Mitsubushi Lancer, yes a Lancer. It farts, the interior looks like something out of the black lagoon and it is kinda rusted, but it is mine. In as much anything given to you by your Nigerian parents can be yours (I have been subtly, not quite so subtly told that I cannot drive it to the island, so they think).
What else about the jalopy, I am thinking of calling her Princess Farts-a-lot, but that is kinda predictable. I took it to the mechanic/ body people, and they told me it would cost N60000 naira (proxy £250) to fix it, this they tell to a girl who has not managed to save a kobo on her £50 salary.
I can’t say that I have been having a lot of fun recently, but then my life has not been a total bust either. Going home for the weekend, visiting friends, I have made some new friends, but they are all leaving and pissing off to the states and England respectively, wankers. I am going to be in a music video though, this friend of mine, is making a music video and I do not have to be a booty girl.
Now I mention this because most of the offers I have had to be in music videos have been for me to be a booty girl. I find this very funny because I have no booty to speak of and I don’t really look like a booty girl, I’m more the ‘you look like my mother’ kinda girl. This is not good since I am not married; do not have kids and well you know if you have read the other blog thingys you would know that I am actively looking. For what you might ask, well if I knew that I probably would not be looking. Anyways that is me for now.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
The NYSC are back with their wahala August 06, 2007
So as I am sure you are aware, I have not updated the blog about NYSC for sometime because it has just been the routine of hell, so there was not reason to get all hot under the collar, but I had to write this one.
Why you ask yourself, well you would never in your life, guess what they did to me now, believe me it is like a bad industrial video about lint, I know stupid and senseless. For those of you who have and have not read the blog, you would be aware that I am doing my NYSC and as such am always financially strapped and depend on both my wages from my job and my NYSC stipend. You will also be aware that because the NYSC loves us so much, our stipend is paid at least a month in arrears. So what happened this time you ask yourself, well, simply put, the NYSC, stole my money!! um uh they did!!!
Let me explain, my stipend is meant to go in to my account at approximately the middle of every month. Now my bank being MY BANK messes up and does not pay until the 3rd week. I have started to get used to it, I budget for that week when all my fellow Corpershuns have gotten their loot and I look on enviously, but this month things went a little askew.
The month had been very expensive for me, by the 3rd week I was broke, I had spent some unbudgeted monies on Princess Farts A Lot (more on that later) and all I had left on me was N500. Knowing my bank and their foolishness, I waited till Wednesday to go collect my money, only to be told on arrival that I had not been paid for the month.
My face was a work of art, the first thing out of my mouth was, ‘They haven’t paid, are you sure’, they confirmed they were. It would seem that while the NYSC had paid my friend and other Corpers, mine was the only hold out in the bank. So why was mine the only one left out? They of course were non responsive or the wiser, (customer service in naija should really be worked on), and all they could say was that nothing was showing up on their system regarding my money. They then suggested that I either come back on Friday or go to Surulere, (main secretariat).
Now since I had only N500 on me the chances of me going to Surulere and getting back to Lekki was near impossible, I decided that since I had a lift for Friday, wait till then, they would have paid me, right, i mean why shouldn't they?
Come Friday having managed to scrimp and starve myself half to death so that I can still have some money, (by the way i must have looked good because everybody was complimenting the wide eyed look of hunger as,'baby you so fine', ejits, it was hunger!!) I went to the bank, only to be told the money had still not arrived, my stomach dropped. The look on my face would have made a grown man cry I’m sure, I was so distraught, angry, lost and hungry (remember the scrimping and starving).
Feeling dejected, on arrival, at the secretariat, I did not even go to my CD, my first stop was the accounts office where I explained my situation, and they basically said that the reason was as simple as I hadn’t signed some form that they did not give me. So like a good little girl, I toddled off to sign said form, I returned to ask when I would now get paid, and they told me that the woman who could give me the answer was not yet in, this was 10.30am (civil servants in Nigeria sure are enjoying life oh). So I waited and waited, and between my CD and her frequent absences from the office I did not get to see her until 3.45pm, when she was already half out the door.
Being the dogmatic sort of person that I am I insisted on telling her what has happening, and she told me the real the reason I had not been paid. The reason according to her was that my bank had been changed. Yes I’m not kidding; even I could not make this crap up. This woman told me that my bank account had been changed without my permission, and I had not been informed of this change because, until I came to ask they did not see a reason to let me know. The funny thing (if you are a fan of irony) is that I am not the only person who this has happened to, at least 500 other people where facing the hold. At first I was so shocked by this that I did not ask why this had been done, but when I came to my senses, I was informed that someone had complained to the state coordinator they had decided to change the banks and the reason nobody was informed is that they figured we would eventually find out. How thoughtful of them.
I am tempted to sue the NYSC, but this would be an exercise in futility I have been told, because, well this is naija, so i just withdrew the money from my bank account and went to buy sorely needed food.
Sometimes life does not hand you lemons for lemonades as much as pelt you with all kind of crap that you cannot salvage.
Updated 10 minutes ago - Comment - Like
Why you ask yourself, well you would never in your life, guess what they did to me now, believe me it is like a bad industrial video about lint, I know stupid and senseless. For those of you who have and have not read the blog, you would be aware that I am doing my NYSC and as such am always financially strapped and depend on both my wages from my job and my NYSC stipend. You will also be aware that because the NYSC loves us so much, our stipend is paid at least a month in arrears. So what happened this time you ask yourself, well, simply put, the NYSC, stole my money!! um uh they did!!!
Let me explain, my stipend is meant to go in to my account at approximately the middle of every month. Now my bank being MY BANK messes up and does not pay until the 3rd week. I have started to get used to it, I budget for that week when all my fellow Corpershuns have gotten their loot and I look on enviously, but this month things went a little askew.
The month had been very expensive for me, by the 3rd week I was broke, I had spent some unbudgeted monies on Princess Farts A Lot (more on that later) and all I had left on me was N500. Knowing my bank and their foolishness, I waited till Wednesday to go collect my money, only to be told on arrival that I had not been paid for the month.
My face was a work of art, the first thing out of my mouth was, ‘They haven’t paid, are you sure’, they confirmed they were. It would seem that while the NYSC had paid my friend and other Corpers, mine was the only hold out in the bank. So why was mine the only one left out? They of course were non responsive or the wiser, (customer service in naija should really be worked on), and all they could say was that nothing was showing up on their system regarding my money. They then suggested that I either come back on Friday or go to Surulere, (main secretariat).
Now since I had only N500 on me the chances of me going to Surulere and getting back to Lekki was near impossible, I decided that since I had a lift for Friday, wait till then, they would have paid me, right, i mean why shouldn't they?
Come Friday having managed to scrimp and starve myself half to death so that I can still have some money, (by the way i must have looked good because everybody was complimenting the wide eyed look of hunger as,'baby you so fine', ejits, it was hunger!!) I went to the bank, only to be told the money had still not arrived, my stomach dropped. The look on my face would have made a grown man cry I’m sure, I was so distraught, angry, lost and hungry (remember the scrimping and starving).
Feeling dejected, on arrival, at the secretariat, I did not even go to my CD, my first stop was the accounts office where I explained my situation, and they basically said that the reason was as simple as I hadn’t signed some form that they did not give me. So like a good little girl, I toddled off to sign said form, I returned to ask when I would now get paid, and they told me that the woman who could give me the answer was not yet in, this was 10.30am (civil servants in Nigeria sure are enjoying life oh). So I waited and waited, and between my CD and her frequent absences from the office I did not get to see her until 3.45pm, when she was already half out the door.
Being the dogmatic sort of person that I am I insisted on telling her what has happening, and she told me the real the reason I had not been paid. The reason according to her was that my bank had been changed. Yes I’m not kidding; even I could not make this crap up. This woman told me that my bank account had been changed without my permission, and I had not been informed of this change because, until I came to ask they did not see a reason to let me know. The funny thing (if you are a fan of irony) is that I am not the only person who this has happened to, at least 500 other people where facing the hold. At first I was so shocked by this that I did not ask why this had been done, but when I came to my senses, I was informed that someone had complained to the state coordinator they had decided to change the banks and the reason nobody was informed is that they figured we would eventually find out. How thoughtful of them.
I am tempted to sue the NYSC, but this would be an exercise in futility I have been told, because, well this is naija, so i just withdrew the money from my bank account and went to buy sorely needed food.
Sometimes life does not hand you lemons for lemonades as much as pelt you with all kind of crap that you cannot salvage.
Updated 10 minutes ago - Comment - Like
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Eko Corper - Midnight calls, yes they are the bane of my existence August 01, 2007
Hello all, sorry I have not been reporting my daily grind in Lagos, Eko, the Realisation (I am trying to find a new name for Lagos, so you might be faced with numerous variations for a while). Having said this, I did say you will have to get along without me for a while, so you had to deal, try being me trying to get a life. Yeah!! Not easy I tell you!
Anyways, the topic of this scintillating episode of nigerorbust is….. Midnight calls, or should I say nightmareville. Now midnight calls have become the bane of my existence, if I did not know better, I would say that MTN decided to do this just to make my life a misery. What normal person with work the next day has time to call you at 1 am. In this case in point, it is one of my obviously jobless, friends who is having way too much fun with NYSC. I mention this because over the last few nights, I have been inundated with midnight calls. Ok so I know it is free to call during the early hours of the morning but give a girl a break, I have to wake up at 5.00am and I am not a happy bunny in the mornings anyway so why stress me out!
I will admit that I am slightly at fault in all of this, after all I could just put down the phone, or say get of my effing line, I need to sleep, but this is not easily done for two v important reasons.
1. When I have cut off the line in the past they call back, now I have even gone so far as to turn off my phone (I don’t do this normally because I fear that I might be attacked in my dreams and I will need a conduit to shout into) but the buggers call so many times that by the time I wake up, my log is full. Also not withstanding, it is those night I turn off my phone, that someone I have not spoken to in yonks calls
Okay so it is only one reason, but I think it is valid.
I’ve been having a night of it for the last few nights though, other than the midnight calls, my insomnia has started up again (like a cold that is determined to send me to the madhouse) I am up till all hours of the night trying to entertain myself. This is not as easy as it sounds. For one thing the DSTV box (cable for you Oyinbo sorts) is upstairs and the female half of the family member I am staying with is obsessed with Home Movies (Nigerian movies) and is not happy with anybody changing the channel from African Magic.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not against Nigerian Movies, but there is so much you can take of story lines that revolve around evil women, finding God in the depth of your wickedness, and olde worlde naija. So I am stuck with terrestrial television, most of which close at 12am and the rest are showing guess what ******home movies******* someone please shoot me.
Secondly, since I can’t watch television I’ve been forced to read my 15 times read books, and watch my 100 times watched DVD’s and listen to my 100000 times listened to songs again, and try to calm my mind. This is not helped by a new situation in my life, a man who I so do not want is after me. He seems to find the sight of me baggy shirts and shorts the spark to get his juices flowing. So imagine the amount of space I have left in my bed at the end of the night.
I hope you all have some advice for me about getting to sleep, because my pretty brown eyes are getting very puffy and I am set to run down the street naked from exhaustion during the day. Now I am writing this at just past 2am, I do not feel sleepy so you guys are enjoying the fruit of my insomnia, be v grateful.
Anyways, the topic of this scintillating episode of nigerorbust is….. Midnight calls, or should I say nightmareville. Now midnight calls have become the bane of my existence, if I did not know better, I would say that MTN decided to do this just to make my life a misery. What normal person with work the next day has time to call you at 1 am. In this case in point, it is one of my obviously jobless, friends who is having way too much fun with NYSC. I mention this because over the last few nights, I have been inundated with midnight calls. Ok so I know it is free to call during the early hours of the morning but give a girl a break, I have to wake up at 5.00am and I am not a happy bunny in the mornings anyway so why stress me out!
I will admit that I am slightly at fault in all of this, after all I could just put down the phone, or say get of my effing line, I need to sleep, but this is not easily done for two v important reasons.
1. When I have cut off the line in the past they call back, now I have even gone so far as to turn off my phone (I don’t do this normally because I fear that I might be attacked in my dreams and I will need a conduit to shout into) but the buggers call so many times that by the time I wake up, my log is full. Also not withstanding, it is those night I turn off my phone, that someone I have not spoken to in yonks calls
Okay so it is only one reason, but I think it is valid.
I’ve been having a night of it for the last few nights though, other than the midnight calls, my insomnia has started up again (like a cold that is determined to send me to the madhouse) I am up till all hours of the night trying to entertain myself. This is not as easy as it sounds. For one thing the DSTV box (cable for you Oyinbo sorts) is upstairs and the female half of the family member I am staying with is obsessed with Home Movies (Nigerian movies) and is not happy with anybody changing the channel from African Magic.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not against Nigerian Movies, but there is so much you can take of story lines that revolve around evil women, finding God in the depth of your wickedness, and olde worlde naija. So I am stuck with terrestrial television, most of which close at 12am and the rest are showing guess what ******home movies******* someone please shoot me.
Secondly, since I can’t watch television I’ve been forced to read my 15 times read books, and watch my 100 times watched DVD’s and listen to my 100000 times listened to songs again, and try to calm my mind. This is not helped by a new situation in my life, a man who I so do not want is after me. He seems to find the sight of me baggy shirts and shorts the spark to get his juices flowing. So imagine the amount of space I have left in my bed at the end of the night.
I hope you all have some advice for me about getting to sleep, because my pretty brown eyes are getting very puffy and I am set to run down the street naked from exhaustion during the day. Now I am writing this at just past 2am, I do not feel sleepy so you guys are enjoying the fruit of my insomnia, be v grateful.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
8 months and counting July 16, 2007
Hello all, sorry I have not updated in a few days, but I have been going through a change, yes, I have turned from fully human (it think I was at one time) to part fish. I have grown gills and fins, to survive naija. Over the last few days, we have had rain, which automatically means that my area of work and living is surrounded by water.
While all of you probably think that all I do is complain about naija, I have to say that naija has its good points, it is just not basic living facilities. Naija has my family, most of them, it has new friends I made in camp and at work (yes I am capable of making friends in Nigeria thank you very much). Naija has the new clubs I have discovered where you can LOUNGE if you wish to and dance if that is your wish, Naija has all these hot, hot, steaming guys that I have found, and for the first time in my life I am getting crushes. I know I am too old for crushes, but damn, they seem to be making them foiner down here. Regardless of all of the above, Naija has my mother and her cooking. I say this despite the fact that I think it is that woman’s mission in life to drive me bonkers.
It is now going on 8 months since I have been in Nigeria, and looking back, I cannot believe I have survived so far. Most of the time, I seem to be covered in mosquito bites, because I live and work in Lekki, so you know that should even a bit of rain fall we are inundated with the nasty little buggers. The rest of the time I am missing all my friends in England, shoe shopping at House of Fraser, going to Starbucks, wandering around Borders, watching 5 movies back to back, you know the usual things.
Despite all this, I have been having a wonderful time in naija , my usual run of old men hitting on me is ongoing - I call it a usual run, because there is no place in the world I go where some dirty old man does not ask if I’m a prossie. No I do not look or dress like one (all the time), but I have yet to find a place on this earth that I have been to that this proposition is not made to me. Either way should I ever decide to go with an Aristo, (rich men who like youngish legal girlies) I can say with head held high there are many men who would do my bidding. The only problem with that is my mother and father knows everybody in Nigeria, and if I am not related to them in some obscure way, they probably went to school with my parents. Sad or what.
On the flip side of oldies but goodies, I have been crushing and have been crushed by some foine young men (yes they are legal). I don’t know what it is, but when I was in England, most of the guys I dated were Spanish, French, and Brazilian - yes they were all white. But since arriving back to Nigeria, all I see are these hot black guys, all hues of brown, sharp faces, ambition, righteous brothers who are just too much for my sensitive little heart, and I am crushing like mad. If you’re good, I might break out the champale (yes it’s like champagne only paler) do like a glamour puss and tell you all about them in every little individual detail……… but that would bore even me, so you are saved the hardship of reading and me of writing.
So what else is going on in my life other than guys, NYSC and lack of light…. Let me think…….well I am still working, I have discovered La Cachette (oh v chi chi), and I have been to this new club Jazz Sessions, which is kinda cool, and that’s about all. Walliah this is the truth of my life, I NEED TO GET A LIFE!!!!
I have no life, all I do every day is wake up, go to work and sleep. On weekends; I make the hazardous trip back to Ikeja to see my parents like a good little girly then make my way back up to Lekki on Monday. I have got to go get a life, having said this, I am dumping you guys for a few days but don’t get cocky, I will be back, I just have to go find my fun. See you’ll l8r……….
While all of you probably think that all I do is complain about naija, I have to say that naija has its good points, it is just not basic living facilities. Naija has my family, most of them, it has new friends I made in camp and at work (yes I am capable of making friends in Nigeria thank you very much). Naija has the new clubs I have discovered where you can LOUNGE if you wish to and dance if that is your wish, Naija has all these hot, hot, steaming guys that I have found, and for the first time in my life I am getting crushes. I know I am too old for crushes, but damn, they seem to be making them foiner down here. Regardless of all of the above, Naija has my mother and her cooking. I say this despite the fact that I think it is that woman’s mission in life to drive me bonkers.
It is now going on 8 months since I have been in Nigeria, and looking back, I cannot believe I have survived so far. Most of the time, I seem to be covered in mosquito bites, because I live and work in Lekki, so you know that should even a bit of rain fall we are inundated with the nasty little buggers. The rest of the time I am missing all my friends in England, shoe shopping at House of Fraser, going to Starbucks, wandering around Borders, watching 5 movies back to back, you know the usual things.
Despite all this, I have been having a wonderful time in naija , my usual run of old men hitting on me is ongoing - I call it a usual run, because there is no place in the world I go where some dirty old man does not ask if I’m a prossie. No I do not look or dress like one (all the time), but I have yet to find a place on this earth that I have been to that this proposition is not made to me. Either way should I ever decide to go with an Aristo, (rich men who like youngish legal girlies) I can say with head held high there are many men who would do my bidding. The only problem with that is my mother and father knows everybody in Nigeria, and if I am not related to them in some obscure way, they probably went to school with my parents. Sad or what.
On the flip side of oldies but goodies, I have been crushing and have been crushed by some foine young men (yes they are legal). I don’t know what it is, but when I was in England, most of the guys I dated were Spanish, French, and Brazilian - yes they were all white. But since arriving back to Nigeria, all I see are these hot black guys, all hues of brown, sharp faces, ambition, righteous brothers who are just too much for my sensitive little heart, and I am crushing like mad. If you’re good, I might break out the champale (yes it’s like champagne only paler) do like a glamour puss and tell you all about them in every little individual detail……… but that would bore even me, so you are saved the hardship of reading and me of writing.
So what else is going on in my life other than guys, NYSC and lack of light…. Let me think…….well I am still working, I have discovered La Cachette (oh v chi chi), and I have been to this new club Jazz Sessions, which is kinda cool, and that’s about all. Walliah this is the truth of my life, I NEED TO GET A LIFE!!!!
I have no life, all I do every day is wake up, go to work and sleep. On weekends; I make the hazardous trip back to Ikeja to see my parents like a good little girly then make my way back up to Lekki on Monday. I have got to go get a life, having said this, I am dumping you guys for a few days but don’t get cocky, I will be back, I just have to go find my fun. See you’ll l8r……….
Monday, February 2, 2009
Have most Naija women been sexually assaulted? July 04, 2007
As I sit here writing the next installment for nigerorbust, I have just come back from work, it is 10.30pm and I have just spent 2.30hrs trying to get down the Lekki motorway. I mean a little rain, okay a lot of rain, causes floods that debilitate the city. This is nothing compared to the pot holes or better yet sink holes, they are huge and look like a crater on the moon, man, dem Fashola folks need to do something about the messed up state of Lagos everything. But enough bitching, I am just feeling a bit wonky, and I have had this weird thing a friend of my told me last night in my mind all day. This friend midnight called me, can you believe that s**t and we started talking. Now I told him to piss off because I have to get to work the next day, but the talk was just too sweet, anyway during our long talk, he told me that all his Nigerian girlfriends and female friends have claimed to be sexually abused.
Yes, that is what he said. The first thing I told him was that he must have very bad luck, I mean what are the chances that most of the Nigerian women in your life have been sexually abused, he must have been lying. But then he went on to tell me that this women had faced the abuse in their own homes, fathers, uncles, in some cases brothers, and all I could do was open my mouth in shock. Don’t get me wrong, I am aware that sexual abuse happens in Nigeria, but it was so shocking to find out that it was this prevalent, so I decided to take up a bit of an experiment. To find out if I was just naïve or if there really was anything to this claim, I spoke to a few of my Nigerian friends, and the stories these girls told me were harrowing.
One girl I spoke to told me of having suffered abuse at the hand of her father for 7 years, and it wasn’t something that was secret, her mother knew about it and did nothing. Now to see this family you would think butter would not melt in their mouth, they are stand up, upright church folks and they ruined this girl. Another friend of mine told me of the uncle who always told her to stand in front of him while he rubbed himself against her, she found it funny, but thinking about it, it kinda messes you up. The most shocking thing for me was the discovery that another male friend of mine had been sexually assaulted.
This particular friend had been raped repeatedly by his uncle between the ages of 5-7 and he told no one until this man died. For a country as homophobic as Nigeria, I was shocked, not just by the raping of my friend but by the reaction of those around him, they wanted him to keep quiet and protect the uncle’s family.
I don’t know it seems the older I grow, the more shocked I am about things that are going on around me. Maybe I should just grow up, but I wouldn’t want to if it means I would not be shock at such
Just a quick update on my birthday, nothing much happened, I have turned the grand old age of 2*. Yes folks I am all grown up, I have turned a ……….., it is my …….. jubilee and that feels older than I ever expected. By now I had planned on retiring, while living off the interest of my vast wealth, gotten through wily business deals, or unexpected inheritance. Boy can you believe say I don be big girl.
As I am now getting older, I felt it was time to ask myself a v important question, am I any wiser? I don’t know, I don’t think so. I don’t think I’ve gotten wiser since I turned 16, so that’s * years of being stupid, I am pretty sure I can last a few more years before gaining any more wisdom. My B’day was boring, I know party animal that I am you obviously expected swinging from the chandeliers and all, but nothing, absolutely nothing exciting happened. I got some extra sleep which was sorely needed, I was going to throw a party, but that involves money, cash, mullah, loads of ricky mullah, which is as scarce for me right now as dry land in Lekki.
The day wasn’t all bad though, a few of my friends came to surprise me at home and we all just hung out, talked and bitched about what else NYSC, and other things. (NYSC is not all that is on our minds, just about ¾’s of it). One of my friends who is also facing the money drought in lieu of a present baked me a cake, which I greatly appreciated, particularly as it was PINK with butter icing. Yummy, yum yum.
I am hoping though that this new year (I count new years from the day after my B’day) good things happen, and opportunities come aplenty. Enough of the smoke up my arse, to everybody who has had a birthday, those who are yet to have one and those who are having one on the same day, have a great day, lot of love good wishes and wisdom………
Yes, that is what he said. The first thing I told him was that he must have very bad luck, I mean what are the chances that most of the Nigerian women in your life have been sexually abused, he must have been lying. But then he went on to tell me that this women had faced the abuse in their own homes, fathers, uncles, in some cases brothers, and all I could do was open my mouth in shock. Don’t get me wrong, I am aware that sexual abuse happens in Nigeria, but it was so shocking to find out that it was this prevalent, so I decided to take up a bit of an experiment. To find out if I was just naïve or if there really was anything to this claim, I spoke to a few of my Nigerian friends, and the stories these girls told me were harrowing.
One girl I spoke to told me of having suffered abuse at the hand of her father for 7 years, and it wasn’t something that was secret, her mother knew about it and did nothing. Now to see this family you would think butter would not melt in their mouth, they are stand up, upright church folks and they ruined this girl. Another friend of mine told me of the uncle who always told her to stand in front of him while he rubbed himself against her, she found it funny, but thinking about it, it kinda messes you up. The most shocking thing for me was the discovery that another male friend of mine had been sexually assaulted.
This particular friend had been raped repeatedly by his uncle between the ages of 5-7 and he told no one until this man died. For a country as homophobic as Nigeria, I was shocked, not just by the raping of my friend but by the reaction of those around him, they wanted him to keep quiet and protect the uncle’s family.
I don’t know it seems the older I grow, the more shocked I am about things that are going on around me. Maybe I should just grow up, but I wouldn’t want to if it means I would not be shock at such
Just a quick update on my birthday, nothing much happened, I have turned the grand old age of 2*. Yes folks I am all grown up, I have turned a ……….., it is my …….. jubilee and that feels older than I ever expected. By now I had planned on retiring, while living off the interest of my vast wealth, gotten through wily business deals, or unexpected inheritance. Boy can you believe say I don be big girl.
As I am now getting older, I felt it was time to ask myself a v important question, am I any wiser? I don’t know, I don’t think so. I don’t think I’ve gotten wiser since I turned 16, so that’s * years of being stupid, I am pretty sure I can last a few more years before gaining any more wisdom. My B’day was boring, I know party animal that I am you obviously expected swinging from the chandeliers and all, but nothing, absolutely nothing exciting happened. I got some extra sleep which was sorely needed, I was going to throw a party, but that involves money, cash, mullah, loads of ricky mullah, which is as scarce for me right now as dry land in Lekki.
The day wasn’t all bad though, a few of my friends came to surprise me at home and we all just hung out, talked and bitched about what else NYSC, and other things. (NYSC is not all that is on our minds, just about ¾’s of it). One of my friends who is also facing the money drought in lieu of a present baked me a cake, which I greatly appreciated, particularly as it was PINK with butter icing. Yummy, yum yum.
I am hoping though that this new year (I count new years from the day after my B’day) good things happen, and opportunities come aplenty. Enough of the smoke up my arse, to everybody who has had a birthday, those who are yet to have one and those who are having one on the same day, have a great day, lot of love good wishes and wisdom………
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