Yes I had to go there, the faux rappers are like musicians a plenty on the streets of Nigeria, Not to be mixed up with their musical / rnb wannabe compatriots, these rapping fools are the ones you see with half their pants hanging out the top of their trousers and their flabby tummy hanging over the pants, cus they saw Fifty cents rocking this look. Of course it never occurred to them that Fiddy has an 8 Pack and can afford real Calvins as in opposed to the brown, disgusting manky hell that they call pants.
The faux rappers and their female compatriots (yes the female of the species exists) string together words that have no meaning and in their current incarnation end said words with Nigger, uhuhuh, or the ever popular swagger!
Not realising that in the old days a Nigger was used to describe slaves who had no rights and were believed to be only good for working the field and being raped by the massers.
In addition to this a Nigger is someone that can be guaranteed to have a Nigger moment (Tiger Woods and the white trash porn stars, a male Naija celeb and the beatdown in a church and every one of a particular female Nigerian ‘rapper’s’ songs)
Spotting the faux rapper.
I already gave the key indicator of the faux rapper above the down to the knees trousers and the manky pants but here are a few other key indicators.
• They will be seen hanging out anywhere there is a gig with a legitimate artist
• They feel that by using the word Nigger, swagger and qudi is a true sign that they are rappers
• A faux rapper is the one who uses the fake arse American accent that all true American cringe at and all real Nigerians plead for it to stop you know what I mean (mry nayme is ........ and I’s a rappers mehns!)
• They have no shame and will pester you down the road while dropping their rhymes and as though this was not enough hell on earth
• They try to ingratiate themselves in your life by toasting you via facebook with the same wack lines!
• They rock the lamest of lame ‘diamond’ ok I lie you cannot even call the glass they put around their neck CZ that is how lame it is.
• Sometimes the ‘chain’ around their neck is a sparkly girl belt.
• They think that talking about being gangstar is the same as being gangstar so they all do stupid things to get noticed until the police get them and they start begging. Afterall how long do you think a faux rapper will last in Panti!
• They think that holding on to their belt buckle and making stupid symbols with their hands is the height of fashion and ‘gangstarliciousness’ (totally ripped that out of boondocks).
• They use too much make up, or not enough make up.
• They go and get stupid hair styles in a bid to stand out, instead they are mistaken for chickens. (we are a starving economy after all)
Avoiding the faux rapper
You can’t do it believe me I’ve tried, they are everywhere!
• They are on line in the supermarket, cinema and everywhere you stand for more than two seconds
• They are your security guards, drivers and if you are really unlucky you office colleagues
• They are at the restaurant when you are eating with your DJ friend
• They have such a highly tuned sense of the absurd they can find you in the deepest darkest hole in the world.
To be honest America would find Osama if they told these faux rappers Dr Dre, Kanye or Timbaland is in the Middle East and they need to be found.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
FAUX MUSICIANS
The faux musicians are not elusive, in fact they are too much on show in any club, studio (tv, radio or music), concert or to be honest random corner in Nigeria. From their over branded fake designer wear, to their wannabe rocking of phone walkmans, faux musicians are a growing breed in Nigeria.
Spotting the faux musician.
To spot a faux musician go to any of the above listed place and casually mention that you either know a real celeb or otherwise have an affiliation to the media industry. I kid you not they will attack you in a bid to give you their everyday at the studio, drop me N5000 and I will produce your CD crap!
Faux musicians are also the people who would take an innocent night of karaoke and turn it into an audition for Idol’s.
I obviously don’t need to tell you, people do not get discovered at karaoke joints unless they are uber talented, which this group do not fall into.
Faux musicians also believe that telling you that their influence are:
• Beyonce,
• Jay Z.
• MI,
• Usher,
• Ciara,
• Asha,
Or any other recent acquisition into the music industry shows them are being cool and deep. Of course if they were either, they would have said that their influences are.......
• NWA
• Beastie Boys
• Lena Horne
• Sam Cooke
• Sinead O Connor
• Tracy Chapman
• Boys to men
To name a few!
Avoiding the faux musician
It is very difficult to avoid any faux for the simple fact that their dogmatic manner is what stops them from realising that the nasal outpouring of ear destroying drivel is actually not music but the rumbling of their stomach as it acid refluxes to get away from them. However, there are a few tips on getting at least a few meters away from them.
• If they come near you, remind them that talent comes from knowing how to sing not just yapping about how they are planning to go into the studio.
• Tell them that you just spotted some uber cool producer downstairs and s/he was looking for the next (insert your real celebrity name here)
• Tell them that there is a new music reality show that they just have to try out for (do not in any way , shape or form let them suspect that you might be associated with it or you will be pestered to death)
• Fake a choking attack, while this might save you for the immediate second be sure that if they spy you within the next 5 mins you will have to listen to their version of I believe I can fly.
• Avoid anybody who chooses to sing the following songs:
• I believe I can fly
• Flying without wings
• Or any other song that involves flying or wings.
Spotting the faux musician.
To spot a faux musician go to any of the above listed place and casually mention that you either know a real celeb or otherwise have an affiliation to the media industry. I kid you not they will attack you in a bid to give you their everyday at the studio, drop me N5000 and I will produce your CD crap!
Faux musicians are also the people who would take an innocent night of karaoke and turn it into an audition for Idol’s.
I obviously don’t need to tell you, people do not get discovered at karaoke joints unless they are uber talented, which this group do not fall into.
Faux musicians also believe that telling you that their influence are:
• Beyonce,
• Jay Z.
• MI,
• Usher,
• Ciara,
• Asha,
Or any other recent acquisition into the music industry shows them are being cool and deep. Of course if they were either, they would have said that their influences are.......
• NWA
• Beastie Boys
• Lena Horne
• Sam Cooke
• Sinead O Connor
• Tracy Chapman
• Boys to men
To name a few!
Avoiding the faux musician
It is very difficult to avoid any faux for the simple fact that their dogmatic manner is what stops them from realising that the nasal outpouring of ear destroying drivel is actually not music but the rumbling of their stomach as it acid refluxes to get away from them. However, there are a few tips on getting at least a few meters away from them.
• If they come near you, remind them that talent comes from knowing how to sing not just yapping about how they are planning to go into the studio.
• Tell them that you just spotted some uber cool producer downstairs and s/he was looking for the next (insert your real celebrity name here)
• Tell them that there is a new music reality show that they just have to try out for (do not in any way , shape or form let them suspect that you might be associated with it or you will be pestered to death)
• Fake a choking attack, while this might save you for the immediate second be sure that if they spy you within the next 5 mins you will have to listen to their version of I believe I can fly.
• Avoid anybody who chooses to sing the following songs:
• I believe I can fly
• Flying without wings
• Or any other song that involves flying or wings.
FAUX CELEBS
Ok so the other day my friend Bukkie and I were going over our misadventure in the media industry in Nigeria.
While we are neither actors, comedians, musicians, model or any other thing in the media industry, and to be honest while we know we can do it we spare the mass populace our outpourings, by value of our jobs we have had to mix with this group we are have a lot of information, knowledge and anecdote to fill a small continent (like Australia) about the fakeness that is the Nigerian celeb.
Now as we began to go over the breakdown of celebs who we could count as being faux we discovered that we cannot just list faux celebs as a group, they have to be broken down to their segments.
So below find the market segmentations of the faux and as the series continues we will be giving you the identifiers, basic traits and what makes them faux.
• Faux musicians
• Faux rappers
• Faux actors
• Faux comedians
• Faux entrepreneur
• Faux stylists
• Faux event coordinators
• Faux writers
• Faux DJ
• Faux presenter
• Faux model
• Faux MC
Now these are not all the fauxs, but they are all we remember for now, so stay tuned, because the more we remember, the more we will update.
While we are neither actors, comedians, musicians, model or any other thing in the media industry, and to be honest while we know we can do it we spare the mass populace our outpourings, by value of our jobs we have had to mix with this group we are have a lot of information, knowledge and anecdote to fill a small continent (like Australia) about the fakeness that is the Nigerian celeb.
Now as we began to go over the breakdown of celebs who we could count as being faux we discovered that we cannot just list faux celebs as a group, they have to be broken down to their segments.
So below find the market segmentations of the faux and as the series continues we will be giving you the identifiers, basic traits and what makes them faux.
• Faux musicians
• Faux rappers
• Faux actors
• Faux comedians
• Faux entrepreneur
• Faux stylists
• Faux event coordinators
• Faux writers
• Faux DJ
• Faux presenter
• Faux model
• Faux MC
Now these are not all the fauxs, but they are all we remember for now, so stay tuned, because the more we remember, the more we will update.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Lovestuck
I am still waiting for the dance u promised
I am still waiting for the love we talked about
I am still hoping for the joy yet to be experienced
I am forever conscious of the seperation between us
I am forced to seek love because u won't give me urs
I am still waiting for the love we talked about
I am still hoping for the joy yet to be experienced
I am forever conscious of the seperation between us
I am forced to seek love because u won't give me urs
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
ALL I'M ASKING FOR IS A LITTLE R.E.S.P.E.C.T!
At what stage can a woman expect respect from men?
When do Nigerian men actually practice what they preach?
And why are all men automatically defensive of women?
The impetus for these questions began after an incident that happened to me recently. A few months ago, I was seconded to another company by my office. My new ‘office’ and colleagues were challenging, but, I dug in and did what my mother taught me.
My mother always says that when things seem impossible, that is when you find reserves of strength and battle on. So following such advice I kept to my job despite all the challenges that could be found, but one incident left me so angry and disillusioned that I am still now months afterwards reeling from it and it has coloured my view of men even more. Which is a shame!
My role in the company I was working with involved collecting, dispensing and accounting for money that was brought in and being the person I am, I am scrupulous in making sure the right amount went in the right hands.
This being the case, I shocked when one morning, I was accosted my one of my ‘colleagues’, claiming I owed him N4000, from a payment he made that I had not paid him for.
Now don’t get me wrong, money is money, but the things going on in my life requires more that N4000, so when he started attacking me verbally shouting that I owed him this amount, I asked him to come see my book to see that all monies I owed him had been paid.
After looking at the books and not seeing the ‘supposed’ money that he was owed, he proceeded to continue calling me:
Fucking Useless
A Fucking Useless Woman
A Fucking Woman
All in view of another ‘colleague’ who happens to be a Nigerian man. I got so angry I walked off, because if I had done what was on my mind, he would have been pulling parts of his body from various sections of his anatomy, but my mama taught me better so I walk away to go cool down and plan my next move.
Following this cooling off period, I went to speak to my ‘boss’ and tell him that I would not continue working in such an environment, when telling him of what had happened, the potty mouthed ‘colleague’ proceeded to restart his insults in the above vein, with neither my ‘boss’ or another male ‘colleague’ saying anything until I started to walk out the door. It was at this point that the ‘boss’ deigned to reply, his response was ‘we’ve been working on this project for a while it would not do for you to leave in the middle of it’, he still did not tell off this other ‘colleague’. So I walked off and went to speak with my real boss, as in the one that seconded me to the ‘new’ office.
Now while my boss was upset on my behalf, his anger reduced somewhat what he was told that the reason there was an incident was that I was ‘emotional’. See me see idiot o!! Now the shocking thing was not so much that it was said, of course they will protect their own, the shocking thing was that it was said by the Nigerian male ‘colleague’.
The story gets even more convoluted, as this Nigerian man is of the class ‘I don’t accept any shit from anybody, and nobody should ever insult a woman much less a Nigerian woman like that’, curious lack of involvement was stunning!!!!
Following the event Mr Nigeria no trousers, was asked to give a report of what had happened, and he refused!
YEP!!!! you could have knocked me over with a feather when he had the gall to turn to me and say he was not going to write the report as he might have to work with the other F******g colleague in the future and he did not want to rock the boat.
He said this even as turned to me and acknowledged the fact that our ‘colleague’ was wrong and he spoke to him about it, and asked him to apologise. My so called boss on the project ran like the little p***y he is and refused to also make a statement for the same reason. By the way f*****g ‘colleague’ has still not apologised till today!!!
I have a lot of things that makes me very upset about this story but my current beef is as follows:
Why when I am insulted as a woman does a man, any man feel that the only way he can gain control is by going down to base insults?
Why is it that when there are problems involving men and women, to justify their nasty arse behaviour, women are labelled emotional?
Why is it that the same Nigerian man who would swear on heaven and earth that if such a thing happens in his presence he would physically assault the man, becomes such wimps when actually faced with such situations?
And why is it that men would put money in front of their friends, family, and mates?
These are questions I have on my mind which if I should answer in my current state of mind will reflect very negative answers, but I do wonder about these questions and the possible answers that come from it.
Aretha Franklin asked for a little respect, and she was right to ask for it, but should we have to ask for it because we are women, why can it not be afforded to us for being as good as if not better in some situations than men? Or must I become either a bitch, a whore or a mother to get my RESPECT!!!!
When do Nigerian men actually practice what they preach?
And why are all men automatically defensive of women?
The impetus for these questions began after an incident that happened to me recently. A few months ago, I was seconded to another company by my office. My new ‘office’ and colleagues were challenging, but, I dug in and did what my mother taught me.
My mother always says that when things seem impossible, that is when you find reserves of strength and battle on. So following such advice I kept to my job despite all the challenges that could be found, but one incident left me so angry and disillusioned that I am still now months afterwards reeling from it and it has coloured my view of men even more. Which is a shame!
My role in the company I was working with involved collecting, dispensing and accounting for money that was brought in and being the person I am, I am scrupulous in making sure the right amount went in the right hands.
This being the case, I shocked when one morning, I was accosted my one of my ‘colleagues’, claiming I owed him N4000, from a payment he made that I had not paid him for.
Now don’t get me wrong, money is money, but the things going on in my life requires more that N4000, so when he started attacking me verbally shouting that I owed him this amount, I asked him to come see my book to see that all monies I owed him had been paid.
After looking at the books and not seeing the ‘supposed’ money that he was owed, he proceeded to continue calling me:
Fucking Useless
A Fucking Useless Woman
A Fucking Woman
All in view of another ‘colleague’ who happens to be a Nigerian man. I got so angry I walked off, because if I had done what was on my mind, he would have been pulling parts of his body from various sections of his anatomy, but my mama taught me better so I walk away to go cool down and plan my next move.
Following this cooling off period, I went to speak to my ‘boss’ and tell him that I would not continue working in such an environment, when telling him of what had happened, the potty mouthed ‘colleague’ proceeded to restart his insults in the above vein, with neither my ‘boss’ or another male ‘colleague’ saying anything until I started to walk out the door. It was at this point that the ‘boss’ deigned to reply, his response was ‘we’ve been working on this project for a while it would not do for you to leave in the middle of it’, he still did not tell off this other ‘colleague’. So I walked off and went to speak with my real boss, as in the one that seconded me to the ‘new’ office.
Now while my boss was upset on my behalf, his anger reduced somewhat what he was told that the reason there was an incident was that I was ‘emotional’. See me see idiot o!! Now the shocking thing was not so much that it was said, of course they will protect their own, the shocking thing was that it was said by the Nigerian male ‘colleague’.
The story gets even more convoluted, as this Nigerian man is of the class ‘I don’t accept any shit from anybody, and nobody should ever insult a woman much less a Nigerian woman like that’, curious lack of involvement was stunning!!!!
Following the event Mr Nigeria no trousers, was asked to give a report of what had happened, and he refused!
YEP!!!! you could have knocked me over with a feather when he had the gall to turn to me and say he was not going to write the report as he might have to work with the other F******g colleague in the future and he did not want to rock the boat.
He said this even as turned to me and acknowledged the fact that our ‘colleague’ was wrong and he spoke to him about it, and asked him to apologise. My so called boss on the project ran like the little p***y he is and refused to also make a statement for the same reason. By the way f*****g ‘colleague’ has still not apologised till today!!!
I have a lot of things that makes me very upset about this story but my current beef is as follows:
Why when I am insulted as a woman does a man, any man feel that the only way he can gain control is by going down to base insults?
Why is it that when there are problems involving men and women, to justify their nasty arse behaviour, women are labelled emotional?
Why is it that the same Nigerian man who would swear on heaven and earth that if such a thing happens in his presence he would physically assault the man, becomes such wimps when actually faced with such situations?
And why is it that men would put money in front of their friends, family, and mates?
These are questions I have on my mind which if I should answer in my current state of mind will reflect very negative answers, but I do wonder about these questions and the possible answers that come from it.
Aretha Franklin asked for a little respect, and she was right to ask for it, but should we have to ask for it because we are women, why can it not be afforded to us for being as good as if not better in some situations than men? Or must I become either a bitch, a whore or a mother to get my RESPECT!!!!
BUM
Please don’t be a bum, please don’t be a bum, I remembered telling myself the second after he asked me out and I walked away. It was an unusual meeting that first occurred 6 months earlier and of which there was only one encounter before our new meeting, so for him to ask me out was odd.
But I have enough faith in my power to attract (sometimes) so I dismissed it.
To a point
Either way, I continued down the road repeating the litany in my head.
Please don’t be a bum, please don’t be a bum.
Of course as I was saying it I knew he had to be a bum, why else would that be the first thing that occurred to me.
But even if he was a bum, he was really only a half bum, not a full one, so that was kinda alright, he was trainable. At least he had a job, of sorts, owned his own car, a jalopy but he did pay for it himself, and he had asked me to a nice, not razz place, so that helped, on the half bit.
On the flip side, he still lived with his parents at 30 something, a big no no, and seemed to spend a lot of time partying with friends.
On the other hand (do I have any hands left?) I liked him.
I liked the way he spoke, his thinking and I would admit his yellow colour.
I’ve not been one to look at someone and like them because they are light or dark, but I liked his colour,
light but still dark, like me, but different.
I decided that well a half bum was better than nothing; I had yet to meet a fully developed man who was not only half of something I wanted, so I went on the date.
The date was fun, a lively place, with nice people, and he paid for the food and drinks, appeasing my mind some.
After all, a bum wouldn’t pay.
We had a wonderful time talking, laughing and for some reason, finding each others hands under the table.
There were some odd occurrences to the night though.
For one thing he took me to a place where all his friends met and introduced me as his ‘missus’……..
Hold up.
Me a missus!!
I’d not even decided if I liked him enough to go out on a second date, and I’m missus.
OK.
Other than that, the night progressed splendidly and I kissed him.
Whoooooooooooooo! Hoooooooooooooo
Boy knew what to do with his mouth.
We continued to ravish each other’s mouth until we were rudely interrupted by the police.
And they were not subtle.
‘Oga, na wa for u o, na so you dey eat ‘er mouth like say you no go see am agin’. Wetin ‘appen?’
I looked away, this was not how I had seen the first kiss happening, but that’s what you get for kissing on the road at 3am.
After that he called me everyday and every evening after work, he’d come to see me, and we’d go into his car and talk, and talk, and kiss and kiss.
For some reason, kissing him was so easy…….
I liked it!
Soon the kisses turned steamier, literally, we saw steam rising from us once, as we touched and rubbed
Damn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Boy was blessed with his mouth and he knew how to use it.
The car became the quintessential passion wagon
But I have enough faith in my power to attract (sometimes) so I dismissed it.
To a point
Either way, I continued down the road repeating the litany in my head.
Please don’t be a bum, please don’t be a bum.
Of course as I was saying it I knew he had to be a bum, why else would that be the first thing that occurred to me.
But even if he was a bum, he was really only a half bum, not a full one, so that was kinda alright, he was trainable. At least he had a job, of sorts, owned his own car, a jalopy but he did pay for it himself, and he had asked me to a nice, not razz place, so that helped, on the half bit.
On the flip side, he still lived with his parents at 30 something, a big no no, and seemed to spend a lot of time partying with friends.
On the other hand (do I have any hands left?) I liked him.
I liked the way he spoke, his thinking and I would admit his yellow colour.
I’ve not been one to look at someone and like them because they are light or dark, but I liked his colour,
light but still dark, like me, but different.
I decided that well a half bum was better than nothing; I had yet to meet a fully developed man who was not only half of something I wanted, so I went on the date.
The date was fun, a lively place, with nice people, and he paid for the food and drinks, appeasing my mind some.
After all, a bum wouldn’t pay.
We had a wonderful time talking, laughing and for some reason, finding each others hands under the table.
There were some odd occurrences to the night though.
For one thing he took me to a place where all his friends met and introduced me as his ‘missus’……..
Hold up.
Me a missus!!
I’d not even decided if I liked him enough to go out on a second date, and I’m missus.
OK.
Other than that, the night progressed splendidly and I kissed him.
Whoooooooooooooo! Hoooooooooooooo
Boy knew what to do with his mouth.
We continued to ravish each other’s mouth until we were rudely interrupted by the police.
And they were not subtle.
‘Oga, na wa for u o, na so you dey eat ‘er mouth like say you no go see am agin’. Wetin ‘appen?’
I looked away, this was not how I had seen the first kiss happening, but that’s what you get for kissing on the road at 3am.
After that he called me everyday and every evening after work, he’d come to see me, and we’d go into his car and talk, and talk, and kiss and kiss.
For some reason, kissing him was so easy…….
I liked it!
Soon the kisses turned steamier, literally, we saw steam rising from us once, as we touched and rubbed
Damn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Boy was blessed with his mouth and he knew how to use it.
The car became the quintessential passion wagon
BUM 2
Every night brought with it new ways of negotiating the gear stick the hand brake the steering wheel, and we found them all. I can tell you that they proved as exciting as everything else.
Kate Winslet and the hand on the window had nothing on us.
I guess I started to suspect he was a full bum a few weeks later when he would call me 25 times in the space of 2 hours because I did not pick up my phone.
His reasoning was that we were in the throes of the relationship so I should enjoy it because as time goes on he might not continue.
Ummmmmmmmm
Then came the second insight as to his bumminess.
While I’d have been at work since 8am he’d call me at 12pm and tell me that he just woke up and was not yet sure what to do with his day.
Uhhhh
What about his job, I hear you ask.
Well I asked the same question
Strike 2
Should I wait for 3?
I'm a sucker, I did.
All through this, I continued to meet his friends, their wives and girlfriends, go out on the night on the town with him and generally start looking critically at his general behavior
This in case no one told you is a very bad idea because you are not to see the faults of your ‘loved ones’ until sometime after you’ve been with them.
I should be euphoric.
I was not euphoric
I was …. I don’t know
Skeptical.
I started to give him little quizzes to test out how bummy he was
I mean being a bum is in degrees
Isn’t it?
Then I started to question his grand plans that seemed not to have a foot in reality.
But should I break up with him because he is not the ideal man I have in my mind, he does have good points………..
That mouth, could sure heal a lot of bad feelings
Unfortunately, this was no longer my decision.
On a night of drunken excess with his friends, he got in a fight with a 2 star general in front of the Governors Guest House.
Yep
Boyo was so dumb he got hemmed up and his car taken from him.
Was my B.U.M. worried about his clients details and products in the car?
Was he heck!!
He was more worried about the jalopy that had seen better days, and as such took to bed to await the
call from the person who took it.
They called, twice and taunted him with the fact that they’ll give it to him if he gave them some money.
He was so determined to get the car back; he chose to keep to his bed and call, and call, and call and wait and wait.
He didn’t call his clients to tell them of the loss of their personal details and products, or to cancel his company cheque book etc that he kept in the car, instead he kept to HIS BED.
I tried to be supportive.
I held him
I advised him
I drove him around to look for the car
But after 2 weeks of still moping
I didn’t need anybody to tell me that he was a full B.U.M.
A Bloody Useless Man
And I broke up with him.
But I do miss that Car
And boy do I miss that mouth.
* I should mention that this is a story that was taken from the experience of two friends and myself, I won't tell you who owns which bit!!*
Kate Winslet and the hand on the window had nothing on us.
I guess I started to suspect he was a full bum a few weeks later when he would call me 25 times in the space of 2 hours because I did not pick up my phone.
His reasoning was that we were in the throes of the relationship so I should enjoy it because as time goes on he might not continue.
Ummmmmmmmm
Then came the second insight as to his bumminess.
While I’d have been at work since 8am he’d call me at 12pm and tell me that he just woke up and was not yet sure what to do with his day.
Uhhhh
What about his job, I hear you ask.
Well I asked the same question
Strike 2
Should I wait for 3?
I'm a sucker, I did.
All through this, I continued to meet his friends, their wives and girlfriends, go out on the night on the town with him and generally start looking critically at his general behavior
This in case no one told you is a very bad idea because you are not to see the faults of your ‘loved ones’ until sometime after you’ve been with them.
I should be euphoric.
I was not euphoric
I was …. I don’t know
Skeptical.
I started to give him little quizzes to test out how bummy he was
I mean being a bum is in degrees
Isn’t it?
Then I started to question his grand plans that seemed not to have a foot in reality.
But should I break up with him because he is not the ideal man I have in my mind, he does have good points………..
That mouth, could sure heal a lot of bad feelings
Unfortunately, this was no longer my decision.
On a night of drunken excess with his friends, he got in a fight with a 2 star general in front of the Governors Guest House.
Yep
Boyo was so dumb he got hemmed up and his car taken from him.
Was my B.U.M. worried about his clients details and products in the car?
Was he heck!!
He was more worried about the jalopy that had seen better days, and as such took to bed to await the
call from the person who took it.
They called, twice and taunted him with the fact that they’ll give it to him if he gave them some money.
He was so determined to get the car back; he chose to keep to his bed and call, and call, and call and wait and wait.
He didn’t call his clients to tell them of the loss of their personal details and products, or to cancel his company cheque book etc that he kept in the car, instead he kept to HIS BED.
I tried to be supportive.
I held him
I advised him
I drove him around to look for the car
But after 2 weeks of still moping
I didn’t need anybody to tell me that he was a full B.U.M.
A Bloody Useless Man
And I broke up with him.
But I do miss that Car
And boy do I miss that mouth.
* I should mention that this is a story that was taken from the experience of two friends and myself, I won't tell you who owns which bit!!*
YOU
I needed to hear your voice yesterday
I needed to hear your dulcet tones and sonorous whisper
I needed to hear you say you knew me and wanted me and trusted me
I wanted to hear you say it was alright, that everything was going to be alright
I really needed to hear your voice yesterday
I needed to feel your arms yesterday
Your strong, comforting arm
The arms that provide me security, because in them I always feel safe
I needed to feel like I was wanted in those arms
I really needed to feel your arms around me yesterday
I needed you yesterday
I needed your strength to carry on
I needed your support to get through the night
I need your hard body next to me as the tears fell
I really needed YOU yesterday.
I needed to hear your dulcet tones and sonorous whisper
I needed to hear you say you knew me and wanted me and trusted me
I wanted to hear you say it was alright, that everything was going to be alright
I really needed to hear your voice yesterday
I needed to feel your arms yesterday
Your strong, comforting arm
The arms that provide me security, because in them I always feel safe
I needed to feel like I was wanted in those arms
I really needed to feel your arms around me yesterday
I needed you yesterday
I needed your strength to carry on
I needed your support to get through the night
I need your hard body next to me as the tears fell
I really needed YOU yesterday.
A BIT ABOUT DEAREST HEART
I decided to write Dearest Heart because of my conceit.
I love letters, anybody who knows me and has had a conversation with me regarding emails, text etc will tell you that at some point i always segue to:
'Why don't people write letters any more'?
' Why don't women want to receive letters from their lovers and tie it in a ribbon and moon over their loves pictures'?
(I know I'm old school, but somethings are just too romantic for words and i am a romantic sometimes, ok a practical romantic with a touch of cynicism).
All these whys and wherefores now started me thinking if guys from way back when were more romantic, or if they were just better at lying about their feelings? ummmmmmm.
That's one for future notes~!
Either way 'Dearest Heart' is from my imagination, no i have not gotten locked down, but i have something to say inside of me, i have someone inside of me to write to and love so why wait until they decide to show up, let me share it with all my many facebook love/rs. LOL!!
I imagine this person in my life who I write to, you don't know what they write to me, you only get my response and my thoughts and everything else about 'Dearest Heart', its craziness in the extreme, but did you ever think i was sane?
I said it, its girly, romantic and totally emotional, so be ready!!!!
I love letters, anybody who knows me and has had a conversation with me regarding emails, text etc will tell you that at some point i always segue to:
'Why don't people write letters any more'?
' Why don't women want to receive letters from their lovers and tie it in a ribbon and moon over their loves pictures'?
(I know I'm old school, but somethings are just too romantic for words and i am a romantic sometimes, ok a practical romantic with a touch of cynicism).
All these whys and wherefores now started me thinking if guys from way back when were more romantic, or if they were just better at lying about their feelings? ummmmmmm.
That's one for future notes~!
Either way 'Dearest Heart' is from my imagination, no i have not gotten locked down, but i have something to say inside of me, i have someone inside of me to write to and love so why wait until they decide to show up, let me share it with all my many facebook love/rs. LOL!!
I imagine this person in my life who I write to, you don't know what they write to me, you only get my response and my thoughts and everything else about 'Dearest Heart', its craziness in the extreme, but did you ever think i was sane?
I said it, its girly, romantic and totally emotional, so be ready!!!!
I SAY A LITTLE PRAYER FOR YOU - DEAREST HEART
Dearest Heart,
How are you, I know I always start my letters like that, but it’s important for me to know that you are alright.
Don’t laugh, but I woke up this morning with your name on my lips and your face in my head and like the Aretha Franklin song goes, I said a little prayer for you.
The day has been very odd though, you’ve been on my mind all the time, in particular the first time we met.
I was 7 and you were 10, that was so long ago, now I’m...... well let’s not talk about that, you know how I can get, and I’d just started at your school. Typical me I had my nose in a book and was wondering how my parents could bring me to Nigeria when this boy came up to me and knocked my book out of my hand.
I was so angry, I wasn’t sure if I should punch him or cry, and then all attention went away from me to this boy striding down the playground straight at us, the boy was you. You came right up to him punched him in the nose and said....’ don’t do that’. I wasn’t sure if I should punch you or slap you for your high handed manner, but you just walked away, and I decided to keep away from you and all boys.
The funny thing is despite my promise, you have always been there. Whenever I fell you were the one who helped me up, when I bumped into someone because I was reading and walking, you were the one who helped me pick up my books, when my tyres were punctured because one of you many girl friends got pissed at me, because you were always boasting about how smart I am on your dates, you helped me fix the tyre and the girl, but not before I had made your life a misery for causing me misery!
God!! When I think of all those things my heart swells with love and breaks because you are not here with me, we are not living parallel live anymore, we are apart from each other and how I miss you.
Enough of my reminiscing and rambling, what have you been up to, did you get the package I sent? Whenever people say package like that you always imagine it’s something nefarious, but I hoped you liked it, it was sent with great love and desire.
As usual my heart is with you and yours is with me.
All my love
S.W.A.L.K.
How are you, I know I always start my letters like that, but it’s important for me to know that you are alright.
Don’t laugh, but I woke up this morning with your name on my lips and your face in my head and like the Aretha Franklin song goes, I said a little prayer for you.
The day has been very odd though, you’ve been on my mind all the time, in particular the first time we met.
I was 7 and you were 10, that was so long ago, now I’m...... well let’s not talk about that, you know how I can get, and I’d just started at your school. Typical me I had my nose in a book and was wondering how my parents could bring me to Nigeria when this boy came up to me and knocked my book out of my hand.
I was so angry, I wasn’t sure if I should punch him or cry, and then all attention went away from me to this boy striding down the playground straight at us, the boy was you. You came right up to him punched him in the nose and said....’ don’t do that’. I wasn’t sure if I should punch you or slap you for your high handed manner, but you just walked away, and I decided to keep away from you and all boys.
The funny thing is despite my promise, you have always been there. Whenever I fell you were the one who helped me up, when I bumped into someone because I was reading and walking, you were the one who helped me pick up my books, when my tyres were punctured because one of you many girl friends got pissed at me, because you were always boasting about how smart I am on your dates, you helped me fix the tyre and the girl, but not before I had made your life a misery for causing me misery!
God!! When I think of all those things my heart swells with love and breaks because you are not here with me, we are not living parallel live anymore, we are apart from each other and how I miss you.
Enough of my reminiscing and rambling, what have you been up to, did you get the package I sent? Whenever people say package like that you always imagine it’s something nefarious, but I hoped you liked it, it was sent with great love and desire.
As usual my heart is with you and yours is with me.
All my love
S.W.A.L.K.
LIKE WATER FOR CHOCOLATE - DEAREST HEART
Dearest Heart,
Another day another dollar or as I say in Nigeria, another day another opportunity not to kill or get killed by an okada.
How are you, I hope you are missing me as much as I’m missing you.
The extent of my missing you is so great I did something very atypical of myself, I watched one of ‘our’ films, Like Water for Chocolate, and it made me laugh.
I remembered the last time we watched it , it was just before you left and you told me that it was so romantic that they waited 22 years to be with each other and then dying in the ‘ supreme passion of the moment’. Right!
Being the ultimate realist and according to you ‘the romance destroyer of the 21st century’ I still have to tell you, I don’t get the film.
Ok so the food was good, and so were the steaming looks , and the naked horse riding (which must have chaffed some), but marrying the sister to be closer to the one he loved and then waiting for 22 years before they got busy and to make matters worse not even sealing the deal because he died while they were doing it FINALLY which is totally rude, it boggles my mind.
So he loved her so much that he had to be close to her somehow, but to be honest being a down to earth – sometimes- Nigerian girl, I cannot for one see myself sitting in the same house with the man who claims to love me and then marries my sister to be close to me. That is bad enough, but then to have to cope with it for 22 years and then even if I allow myself to phantom those impossibilities allow the guy to die on me when we are finally getting what we wanted and then eat matches and die. A beg!! That is craziness to the ‘enth degree.
Of course if it were a Nollywood movie, the girl would have jujued the sister and the husband, had his illegitimate child and then at some point religion would have come into play.
I miss your romantic and totally unrealistic take on things, it balances out my cynicism.
Talking of juju, I cannot believe you told your boss that your girlfriend in Nigeria did some medicine so that any woman who you have sexual encounters with turn into men!
Honestly what would she have thought of me, you should have told her that they turn into men painfully with that part of their anatomy coming out cm by cm for a month, while ripping through the skin down that a good reason to do juju.
I’m feeling crazy today, I’m feeling the loss of you in my life, I’m feeling slightly lost without you and maybe, just maybe, I’m understanding the waiting bit of ‘water for chocolate’.
With all my love
Ahoranui
Dearest Heart - Rumors and Innuendos
Dearest Heart,
It’s been a while since I heard from you, so for your last letter to make insinuations about my love for you, my dedication to our life and your place in my heart, breaks my heart.
According to you, you have been ‘reliably informed that the true love you declare for me is nothing but a farce, you have been seen around town having too much fun with too many men and rumours are abound that you are now the easy lay of Lagos’.
How dare you!!
Before I decided to spend my time, life and love with you I had male friends, and God knows that before you left, I went out with them alone and we laughed and danced, but I came home to you, because you are my rest.
Do you imagine that I would sit home for all the time you have been away and do nothing else? I love you, nothing can change that, but I also have a life that needs my friends, both male and female to support it. With you away, my friends are all I have to lean on.
As for the rumours that are abound that I am now the ‘easy lay of Lagos’, I hate to dissolution you, but if I were such an easy lay, I would be more discrete after all who doesn’t want to marry a returnee!
You insult me because you obviously don’t know me. You don’t seem to know that I physically ache for you. That just the idea of you touching me, fills me with such sweet joy and sorrow, I cannot hold myself together most days, I’m torn apart.
So for you to insinuate that just because I ache I must be seeking comfort elsewhere diminishes what I thought we have.
Talking of your reliable informants, I can only guess that they are your friends who have on various occasions sought to turn my gaze from you.
I imagine that they are the same ones who told me that you are never coming back, and if you do, it would not be for me.
I imagine that these informants of yours are the same who even during our youthful exuberance and first flush of romance tried to find ways to ‘make me an easy lay’, but I refused. Now in retaliation, they plant these awful seeds in your mind, but what is worse, is that you believe them.
I also have moments of intense jealousy when I think that you must be doing all sorts of things with all sorts of people, but I tell myself that ‘this is my man, and he is my right. I remind myself that you cannot break my heart because you already have it’.
How wrong I was. It would seem that it was easy to trample on my heart because you have it.
In deep despair
.....................................................................................
1st Apology
Chocolate, and Ice Cream melt, because they have no substance. You apology lacks the same.
2nd Apology
The flowers died, not because they were not watered, but because they were not cared about. My love withers in a similar vein
3rd Apology
You came!
It’s been a while since I heard from you, so for your last letter to make insinuations about my love for you, my dedication to our life and your place in my heart, breaks my heart.
According to you, you have been ‘reliably informed that the true love you declare for me is nothing but a farce, you have been seen around town having too much fun with too many men and rumours are abound that you are now the easy lay of Lagos’.
How dare you!!
Before I decided to spend my time, life and love with you I had male friends, and God knows that before you left, I went out with them alone and we laughed and danced, but I came home to you, because you are my rest.
Do you imagine that I would sit home for all the time you have been away and do nothing else? I love you, nothing can change that, but I also have a life that needs my friends, both male and female to support it. With you away, my friends are all I have to lean on.
As for the rumours that are abound that I am now the ‘easy lay of Lagos’, I hate to dissolution you, but if I were such an easy lay, I would be more discrete after all who doesn’t want to marry a returnee!
You insult me because you obviously don’t know me. You don’t seem to know that I physically ache for you. That just the idea of you touching me, fills me with such sweet joy and sorrow, I cannot hold myself together most days, I’m torn apart.
So for you to insinuate that just because I ache I must be seeking comfort elsewhere diminishes what I thought we have.
Talking of your reliable informants, I can only guess that they are your friends who have on various occasions sought to turn my gaze from you.
I imagine that they are the same ones who told me that you are never coming back, and if you do, it would not be for me.
I imagine that these informants of yours are the same who even during our youthful exuberance and first flush of romance tried to find ways to ‘make me an easy lay’, but I refused. Now in retaliation, they plant these awful seeds in your mind, but what is worse, is that you believe them.
I also have moments of intense jealousy when I think that you must be doing all sorts of things with all sorts of people, but I tell myself that ‘this is my man, and he is my right. I remind myself that you cannot break my heart because you already have it’.
How wrong I was. It would seem that it was easy to trample on my heart because you have it.
In deep despair
.....................................................................................
1st Apology
Chocolate, and Ice Cream melt, because they have no substance. You apology lacks the same.
2nd Apology
The flowers died, not because they were not watered, but because they were not cared about. My love withers in a similar vein
3rd Apology
You came!
NOTHING YOU CAN DO - DEAREST HEART
Dearest Heart,
I don’t know how to begin this letter, it is with both pain and joy that I write because, seeing you, gave me a moment of splendorous pleasure, but the reason for your return caused me debilitating pain.
So much with the big words, you know I only do that when I’m trying to keep my emotions in check and not howl at the moon. It bears repeating though, you came, you apologised, you begged, and it was good to see you, to talk to you, to be reassured by you, but I don’t know if I can forget.
I don’t know if I can forget or even forgive, but I can try because in you I find my Zen, and God know I have had to be forgiven.
I know we were never meant to speak about it again , but I think that is why it was easy for you to believe those things about me, but after 10 years, you should know that they don’t tally anymore.
I was young, foolish, desperate, angry but now I am yours.
The day you found me is one that still resonates in me, the anger, the pain the recriminations still ring in my head and I would never put you through that again.
Ten years ago seems a long time, but it feels somewhat like it was yesterday.
It was our first fight as a couple, we’d been officially going out for 4 months and unofficially for over 5 years. You told me you hated me, you asked how you could ever have considered going out with me, you said you didn’t love me.
I said you were the reason for all the trouble in my life, you were my damnation and that being around you made my flesh crawl.
A few more words, a lot of shouting, slamming doors and I stormed out, into the arms of an ex to do with him something I had only done with you once, in my anger I broke your heart.
Maybe I did not say it enough then but I am sorry.
If that is the reason you imagined me doing as they said then I am very sorry.
I was young, tired, and scared, but like all good things, I grew out of it.
After that fight I remember saying ‘ we will fight, I will break things, I will slam doors, but I will be on the same side of the door that you are, never on the other side. I will not leave an empty space in my bed or my heart for anybody else, there is nothing either of us can do to ruin this relationship because I will not allow it, but you have to promise me to do the same'.
So young, so idealistic, but when I remember my own words then, I think that maybe, just maybe I have forgiven and forgotten. After all the only things in my mind now are the wonderful times I’ve had with you, the laughter, the joy, the caresses, the contentment.
Dearest Heart we cannot ruin this ever, I will not allow it!
With all my love fulfilled by you.
I don’t know how to begin this letter, it is with both pain and joy that I write because, seeing you, gave me a moment of splendorous pleasure, but the reason for your return caused me debilitating pain.
So much with the big words, you know I only do that when I’m trying to keep my emotions in check and not howl at the moon. It bears repeating though, you came, you apologised, you begged, and it was good to see you, to talk to you, to be reassured by you, but I don’t know if I can forget.
I don’t know if I can forget or even forgive, but I can try because in you I find my Zen, and God know I have had to be forgiven.
I know we were never meant to speak about it again , but I think that is why it was easy for you to believe those things about me, but after 10 years, you should know that they don’t tally anymore.
I was young, foolish, desperate, angry but now I am yours.
The day you found me is one that still resonates in me, the anger, the pain the recriminations still ring in my head and I would never put you through that again.
Ten years ago seems a long time, but it feels somewhat like it was yesterday.
It was our first fight as a couple, we’d been officially going out for 4 months and unofficially for over 5 years. You told me you hated me, you asked how you could ever have considered going out with me, you said you didn’t love me.
I said you were the reason for all the trouble in my life, you were my damnation and that being around you made my flesh crawl.
A few more words, a lot of shouting, slamming doors and I stormed out, into the arms of an ex to do with him something I had only done with you once, in my anger I broke your heart.
Maybe I did not say it enough then but I am sorry.
If that is the reason you imagined me doing as they said then I am very sorry.
I was young, tired, and scared, but like all good things, I grew out of it.
After that fight I remember saying ‘ we will fight, I will break things, I will slam doors, but I will be on the same side of the door that you are, never on the other side. I will not leave an empty space in my bed or my heart for anybody else, there is nothing either of us can do to ruin this relationship because I will not allow it, but you have to promise me to do the same'.
So young, so idealistic, but when I remember my own words then, I think that maybe, just maybe I have forgiven and forgotten. After all the only things in my mind now are the wonderful times I’ve had with you, the laughter, the joy, the caresses, the contentment.
Dearest Heart we cannot ruin this ever, I will not allow it!
With all my love fulfilled by you.
L.O.V.E - DEAREST HEART
Dearest heart,
Live Our Visionary Experience
I have many names for LOVE, remember I used to write them on your chest and whisper it in your ears, those were good times.
I remember the first time I realised that I loved you, well I didn’t really tell you, I wrote it to you. It was just after our first official fight and I wrote you to ‘pour my heart out’, and as I ended the letter I wrote, ‘love you’ in a careless hand, then I looked at the words again and scrubbed it out and wrote ‘I LOVE YOU’.
That was my moment of realisation!
Luck Over Violent End
I have often counted the ways I love you, the reason I love you, but they get too long, but my love for you I think can be encapsulated in what you do when we go out anywhere together.
I always noticed that whenever I had gone out with other people in the past and I did my ‘waka’ about, they stood next to me sulking because I was talking to other people or alternatively went away to sulk,...... either way there was sulking involved.
With you it was different, even when we were just friends, you would go out with me, maybe hang around when I’m doing the social butterfly thing, and you’ll introduce yourself to people, strike up conversation while always keeping me in your sight. When you got bored, you would go and sit down, buy me a drink, and every time I turned, you would smile at me where you were being chatted up by some bimbette.
Then i’d come over to you, you’d draw me close and push the drink in my hand, always saying ‘at least wet your whistle with all the talking you are doing’, I’d laugh and be off again flitting from place to place, and anytime I flitted over to you, you would let me land and calm me down.
Dancing was always an issue for you, you are the king of the 2 step.
Of course this did not stop you from getting on the floor with me, when I wanted to boogie on down and when you got tired you would go and sit down, find a chair and keep it for me. When I got tired, you would pull me down to the chair massage my feet while we whisper all types of nonsense to each other, about this person and that, and finally when I succumbed to sleep/ exhaustion, you would put my head on your shoulder to keep me comfortable, and when it was time to go, you would carry me into the car.
Your love has made me grateful for the little things in life, it has made me listen to Nat King Cole, it has made me want to understand love in the fullest sense.
My dearest heart, my Lifetime Of Vivacious Enjoyment.
With all my love, always.
Live Our Visionary Experience
I have many names for LOVE, remember I used to write them on your chest and whisper it in your ears, those were good times.
I remember the first time I realised that I loved you, well I didn’t really tell you, I wrote it to you. It was just after our first official fight and I wrote you to ‘pour my heart out’, and as I ended the letter I wrote, ‘love you’ in a careless hand, then I looked at the words again and scrubbed it out and wrote ‘I LOVE YOU’.
That was my moment of realisation!
Luck Over Violent End
I have often counted the ways I love you, the reason I love you, but they get too long, but my love for you I think can be encapsulated in what you do when we go out anywhere together.
I always noticed that whenever I had gone out with other people in the past and I did my ‘waka’ about, they stood next to me sulking because I was talking to other people or alternatively went away to sulk,...... either way there was sulking involved.
With you it was different, even when we were just friends, you would go out with me, maybe hang around when I’m doing the social butterfly thing, and you’ll introduce yourself to people, strike up conversation while always keeping me in your sight. When you got bored, you would go and sit down, buy me a drink, and every time I turned, you would smile at me where you were being chatted up by some bimbette.
Then i’d come over to you, you’d draw me close and push the drink in my hand, always saying ‘at least wet your whistle with all the talking you are doing’, I’d laugh and be off again flitting from place to place, and anytime I flitted over to you, you would let me land and calm me down.
Dancing was always an issue for you, you are the king of the 2 step.
Of course this did not stop you from getting on the floor with me, when I wanted to boogie on down and when you got tired you would go and sit down, find a chair and keep it for me. When I got tired, you would pull me down to the chair massage my feet while we whisper all types of nonsense to each other, about this person and that, and finally when I succumbed to sleep/ exhaustion, you would put my head on your shoulder to keep me comfortable, and when it was time to go, you would carry me into the car.
Your love has made me grateful for the little things in life, it has made me listen to Nat King Cole, it has made me want to understand love in the fullest sense.
My dearest heart, my Lifetime Of Vivacious Enjoyment.
With all my love, always.
PISSY!!
Ok , so i’m feeling a bit morbid and negative, and I felt, why don’t I share it with my loving Facebook friends!
Enjoy, but maybe you shouldn’t eat while reading this!
Where, How, When and with Who you did her
So we begin, the endless battle of right and wrong, good and evil, dumb and dumber
I bet you thought when I told you no I was kidding
When I screamed that you go, I was mistaken
Do you take me for a fool,
Do you think I don’t know about the friend, of a friend, followed by a friend twice removed that you slept with on the 10th
Do you think I don’t know where, how, when and with who you did her.
Babes why do you think I’ve not allowed you near me in weeks
Trust when I say no woman has headaches that often consistently
So bro, my lover, my friend, the once father of my non children
Remember, I see all, know all, and hear all, and in your case, I don’t have to be omni anything,
I just have to look at your lips move and know the lies you are telling.
HELP!
Ask you for help?
I would rather stick my head in a bucket of stinging nettles, filled with a swarm of stinging bees before I do that.
Ask you for help!
I would rather stick a knife in my eyes swivel it around until I’ve cut all the brain membranes then stick a Hoover in the hole that was my eye and suck out mess than do that.
I remember once asking you for help,
Begging you to help a sister out,
Instead of doing so, you humiliated me and spread my business around the streets, for 20 grand?! So much for friendship girlfriend!
I remember the time I was in bed, writhing in pain as I lost our child, and begged you to please, please help me and all you could say is ‘suck it up babes’ by phone!
Help! I guess in that case you helped me, cus you never wanted the poor little sucker.
Ask you for help!
I would rather be slit from nose to toes with my entrails hanging out and left in the wild for animals to feast on me while I was still alive, than ask you for help!
Odua Spirit
So the other day I was having a conversation with a colleague, you know the usual, man, woman thing!! And he told me of this very popular Nigerian pastor who said that even though he is Yoruba, he could never have married a Yoruba woman.
The reason for this revelation was that Yoruba women have the Odua spirit!
Now for those of you who do not know what the Odua spirit means, it basically means that Yoruba women are fighters, we have no qualms about taking off our head wrap, tying it around our waist and running into the melee that is any fight which threatens our friends and family or in some cases, just because we can.
Anyway as you can imagine, the moment I heard this, I went slightly Odua!
What did he mean that Yoruba women are not viable for his marriage prospects? I mean his mother, sisters, etc are Yoruba women, does he mean that they are or were not good enough for marriage?
I now asked the colleague that who did this ‘man of God’ now marry, and he told me he had married an Ibo woman, and she was quiet, pleasant and easy to talk to.
Ok so my head sparked and I had to ask, do Ibo and Hausa women not have a fighting spirit, because I have friends from both tribes and they know how to get down like every other woman.
Incidentally another colleague of mine (Yoruba) came by and listened to our conversation, it turned out that he too had married outside the tribe because he felt that the Odua spirit in Yoruba women was just too much for him to handle.
So what did he do? He prayed to God to give him a woman who was not Yoruba, but understood all the Yoruba customs and could cook Yoruba food, and God gave him a woman from Edo state!
At this point many people had entered the conversation and the consensus was that Yoruba women are too hard and always ready for a fight. However, though an Ibo/ Igbo, south – south, south – east woman might be angry about a situation, she will cajole the man or person out. Northern women on the other hand, well they just won’t talk they will smile, look down and let the problem go away.
As for me, since I am not only a Yoruba woman, but also a returnee, I am the worst type of possible wife, I have the Odua woman spirit in me, additionally since I studied out, I must be a rampant feminist so I am a fighter on many levels.
I smiled at this analysis, and said that yes I am an Odua woman, I learnt from the cradle that when something is wrong I should fight, when an injustice is being committed I should shout. My line is one of women who give the ultimate curse by walking in public half naked to tell you, ‘ As you unclothed me, so shall you be unclothed, as you disrespected me so shall you be disrespected, as you humiliated me so shall you be humiliated’.
I have removed my head wrap on numerous occasions and tied it around my waist, ready for whatever might come my way, but this does not make me less, it makes me more, because my loved ones know I will fight for them no matter what.
As for my sisters in the south – south, south- east, north, I know that perception is not reality, as such I also know they fight the good fight, and in fact sometimes they also remove the head wrap and enter the melee!!
The reason for this revelation was that Yoruba women have the Odua spirit!
Now for those of you who do not know what the Odua spirit means, it basically means that Yoruba women are fighters, we have no qualms about taking off our head wrap, tying it around our waist and running into the melee that is any fight which threatens our friends and family or in some cases, just because we can.
Anyway as you can imagine, the moment I heard this, I went slightly Odua!
What did he mean that Yoruba women are not viable for his marriage prospects? I mean his mother, sisters, etc are Yoruba women, does he mean that they are or were not good enough for marriage?
I now asked the colleague that who did this ‘man of God’ now marry, and he told me he had married an Ibo woman, and she was quiet, pleasant and easy to talk to.
Ok so my head sparked and I had to ask, do Ibo and Hausa women not have a fighting spirit, because I have friends from both tribes and they know how to get down like every other woman.
Incidentally another colleague of mine (Yoruba) came by and listened to our conversation, it turned out that he too had married outside the tribe because he felt that the Odua spirit in Yoruba women was just too much for him to handle.
So what did he do? He prayed to God to give him a woman who was not Yoruba, but understood all the Yoruba customs and could cook Yoruba food, and God gave him a woman from Edo state!
At this point many people had entered the conversation and the consensus was that Yoruba women are too hard and always ready for a fight. However, though an Ibo/ Igbo, south – south, south – east woman might be angry about a situation, she will cajole the man or person out. Northern women on the other hand, well they just won’t talk they will smile, look down and let the problem go away.
As for me, since I am not only a Yoruba woman, but also a returnee, I am the worst type of possible wife, I have the Odua woman spirit in me, additionally since I studied out, I must be a rampant feminist so I am a fighter on many levels.
I smiled at this analysis, and said that yes I am an Odua woman, I learnt from the cradle that when something is wrong I should fight, when an injustice is being committed I should shout. My line is one of women who give the ultimate curse by walking in public half naked to tell you, ‘ As you unclothed me, so shall you be unclothed, as you disrespected me so shall you be disrespected, as you humiliated me so shall you be humiliated’.
I have removed my head wrap on numerous occasions and tied it around my waist, ready for whatever might come my way, but this does not make me less, it makes me more, because my loved ones know I will fight for them no matter what.
As for my sisters in the south – south, south- east, north, I know that perception is not reality, as such I also know they fight the good fight, and in fact sometimes they also remove the head wrap and enter the melee!!
TJ has Aids
DISCLAIMER - This is a story and an education I don't have HIV or AIDS, I feel I need to say this because of Naija mentality.
Tj has AIDS I could not believe it when I heard it.
Tj my friend, my sometimes lover has AIDS.
How did this happen how could this smart, gorgeous man be infected with this deadly disease, I mean how could he not have caught it at HIV stage what went wrong.
As these questions raced through my mind I was struck by the fact that of the last 4 years of friendship with Tj , 2 years of which we have been lovers, he had told me nothing.
Tj and I met by chance when during a friends' wedding we had both run outside to escape the overwhelming bile that rose in our throats when the bride and groom started miming love songs to themselves, in between the mo gbo month ya's, the caterers and wedding show off's Tj and I connected.
It was odd we both ran out of the hall together almost colliding saying sorry together and started laughing in what seemed to be seconds after meeting.
For what seemed like a lifetime we stood outside bumming ciggies and stories from each other.
We had mutual friends and family friends in common.
We had a love of books and movies but hated false sentimentality and this was where we bonded.
While the wedding for all the co singing ended after 6 months, our friendship developed.
After a while it became the norm to see us together a tall, dark skinned (like expresso on chocolate) handsome man with the most beautiful hazel eyes you could ever dream of and me a slightly below averaged height, plump girl on heels going to events, laughing and generally having fun together.
We were the must have couple because so long as we had each other we had fun.
So when we started sleeping together it seemed normal, and we had fun doing this, as our inter connectedness continued to the bed.
So for Tj to have AIDS had to be wrong except he told me himself.
It seems he had found out he was HIV+ 3 years ago but he felt complete with me and felt that everything would be alright.
He did not feel he should tell me because it would never be a problem and when we had the test and it said we were both clear he lied because we were so busy so I never asked to see the results, I trusted my friend.
Now I wait for my results reminiscing about our time together and knowing that even if by the slimmest chance my test is clear I have to face this testing for the next 2 years to make sure I am not infected.
I trusted my friend and now I have to face and live with my decision.
For Desmond and Shola I did promise something in support even if it is a little late.
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