Monday, December 30, 2013


I walk around with this weight beneath me.
This weightless weight...
It defines me,
It qualifies me,
It is who I am.
With it comes release, pleasure and then pain.
My sex.

I am a girl and I had not a choice.
This gift was thrust upon me for reasons beyond my horizon.
I have accepted it.
Why won't you?

I'm the helper, the life bearer, the care taker.
I'm not the lesser being.
I do not care to be held a prisoner by a lifeless part of me.
I'm more than just 'female'.
I'm more than 'breasts and buttocks'.
I'm more than your 'saddle'.
I'm a woman... A person with feelings and dreams and the right to choose.
I'm not a rag doll, a trophy, a baby factory or a piece of furniture...
Don't treat me as one.

Let me live.
Let my ambitions thrive.
Let my talents and skills flourish.
Let the fire of hope in me burn.
Let my choices be mine.
Let me live for myself.

Dear Man, I ought to stand beside thee and not beneath.
Dear Culture, stop being biased against me.
Dear Religion, Aren't we all equal before God anymore?
Dear World, my ovaries are not yokes.

We are omnivores and not sin eaters.
We are not food to satiate the hunger between your legs.
We are not punching bags; find your way to the gym.
We are not weaklings because we are tender.
We are not dumb because we ought to submit.
We are not for the night, rag dolls to please yourself
Nor for the day, handbags to adorn yourself.
We are not victims.

I am the lover and the mother,
The wise and the strong,
The warrior and the teacher,
The cure to the insanity called "manhood",
The balm to soothe the madness of the young.
I am 'the woman'.

My sex is not a curse,
Today I cast off that cross.
I'll live above your beliefs.
I'll break loose from your grip.
Gender is itself
And I am myself.

This is for every woman whose sin is being a woman. Its for everyone who has lost anything as a result of gender discrimination. Everyone preaches 'gender equality' but what about the woman who is beaten up everyday, or the housewife with no self worth or even the African woman being ridiculed because she bore only female children.
Despite the growing rate of civilization, some people are still stuck in the world of male chauvinism. If you are a woman, stand for yourself; you have a right to be your own person. Fathers, invest in your girl child; she's just as good as a son. Men, please treat us right, the difference between you and us is the 'Y chromosome'. Ladies, your sex is not a tool to earn pity or evade honest  work.
Appreciate the women in your life.


Saturday, December 28, 2013


Hello beautiful people,
I apologize for bringing my warm wishes late but hey, after the main course comes dessert right? Merry Christmas and a very happy new year in advance.

Honestly, I'd say this is officially the worst Christmas I've had in ages my life. The parents traveled together and are having a fabulous, white Christmas while my siblings and I are juggling the boredom and harmattan. The beauty of life is that 'I can do my kids back'...Yep! *Nigerian English shaa*

Despite the not-so-amazing Christmas, I'm at a point in my life when ingratitude is not an option. So I'd say I'm grateful to God for everything.

Let me also say that right now, I'm overwhelmed with feelings...
I feel grateful for where I am, given where I'm coming from.
I feel hopeful; for tomorrow, for the realization of my dreams, for the testimonies I'll have.
I feel nothing... Yes! Sometimes, I just feel nothing.
I feel loved. When I think about God, my family, my friends and of course you, my readers, I feel loved.
I feel scared; the uncertainty that engulfs tomorrow comes with that.
I feel sure... Sure that it'll all get better in time.
I feel happy. My blog experienced a breakthrough in November and December. I got views from countries I didn't know existed. Thank you for that. :)
I feel disappointed... in myself, for the moments I wasted, steps I didn't take and vital things I took for granted. But then, I have tomorrow to make up for the those.
I feel sorry... Sorry for those who let me go, for 'him' who lacked the courage to fight for me, and for those who in their folly think I'm going nowhere.
I feel angry...that some things haven't changed, that I have exams in January and have to read during the Christmas hols, that I've been angry for some time.
I feel strong.....for those I love, for myself. Its called self-propelling.
I feel its Christmas and that Christ came with newness.So I'm holding unto that and starting afresh. I'll try to do everything better this time. Like kissing, I'll close my eyes, take the risk, savor the outcome and well, hope it won't be sloppy.

This Christmas, I promise you a better blog so be sure to make a return trip. I'll be ready for you.

Lastly, its my dad's birthday and I wish him the very best. I'm thankful for having the best dad in the world.

Friday, December 13, 2013


Hello lovers, I'm sure you've been waiting for the second episode of this series. Its finally here and I hope you love it. Just in case you haven't read the first episode, here's a link to it >>> TALES OF A LOVELESS LOVER 1 
Have a good read!

It had been three hours since my awful plunge into the pool and I was still very cross. This Jimi boy deserved to die. The guy who pulled me out had carried me to my room with the help of my friends. I think he said a few things which I can’t remember; I was too busy cussing Jimi and feeling embarrassed. I asked him to leave the room and stop fussing over me. Amidst all of that, I admitted to myself that the fellow was quite handsome. Whatever! I really need a break from guys. The handsome ones can have their face skins peeled off for all I care. I woke from my post-drama nap rather groggily and I must confess, it’s so hard for anyone including myself to coexist with the groggy me. My friends were apparently not in the mood for my bad attitude so they excused themselves. Am I that bad?

“Do you want to join us to the club tonight?” I jumped right out of my skin. “Boma what is it now? You scared me silly. I didn’t hear you come in. Mtchew” I hissed coldly. “Sorry oo. I didn’t mean to scare you. Calm down. Do you feel better now?” she asked in a concerned manner. I loved this friend of mine; she knew how to be a sweetheart. I had known her since I was in JS3 and it has been amazing. She is like a sister even though she did have her own baggage. But who doesn’t? I had two major problems with her: her taste in men and her ability to be absent when you need her just because she’s gotta be with some random dude or even chick. Well, this was one of her gracious moments. “You never come to the club with us. Its time you did, plus it could help with this prickliness. You could wear that green dress and red shoes. You’d be just fine. It’s not like we are going to sleep with men.  You only live once babe.” She continued without giving me the chance to cut in. After she finished rambling, I waited 5 seconds before giving her my reply. You should have seen the look on her face as she waited for my reply. “Fine, I’ll go with you guys, under one condition. No over the top stuff” I answered while simultaneously giving her my stern look. “Deal” She left the room and I laughed quietly to myself. I was sure she was on her way to convincing Mary as well; that was going to be a serious brawl.

 Looking at my reflection, I loved what I saw. I wore the green dress and red ankle boots as Boma suggested. The dress was short and has Cinderella flare. It had a canoe neck and a drooping back line. I knew I looked sexy but not slutty.  This night felt right for some reason. My girls looked amazing as well. Mary wore pencil cut mono strap with fishnets and some nice pointy pumps. Boma and Sally went for feisty in their bum shorts and boots. This night held something that was mine and I was going to get it.

At the club, we got into the VIP lounge smoothly, thanks to some guy Boma met the last time she left school. The music was deafening but the lights were awesome. As soon as we got in, Boma got snagged by some dude and hit the dance floor. Talk about magnetic forces. I, Sally and Mary hit the bar. Mary got a glass of sparkling grape juice; Sally got a mix of vodka and cranberry while I got a glass of sherry. The two of them said they wanted to sit at a sofa close to the dance floor so I went with them. We got winks and catcalls and sent them flirtatious smiles in return. After a couple of minutes, I was alone on the sofa while everyone was killing it on the dance floor. The D.J was great, I love his selection and just bopped my head and screamed occasionally as I watched Boma do her thing with all the poor dudes scuffling to dance with her. Gosh! My eyes hurt. I rested my back on the back of the sofa and closed my eyes for a bit. I had a smile on my lips when they weren’t just mine anymore. I felt someone’s lips on mine. His lips- it had to be a ‘he’- they were cold but soft. His breath was heavy with vodka and chocolate, I think. The mixture was awesome. I panicked. My first kiss! What was I supposed to do? I wasn’t sure I knew how to kiss so I just stayed still and let whoever the stranger was do his thing. Common sense tugged at me and I was forced to break out with something I hoped was a slap. I meant to slap him but it turned to be just a gentle shove. Whoever it was got the message and pulled away. My eyes were still closed, I needed time to process what just happened and wished that when I opened my eyes, it would have been all imagined. I could still taste Vodka and chocolate… the flavors were still ravaging my senses. When I opened my eyes, I saw a stunningly handsome face hovering some inches above mine. His eyes held something strong and I felt as though he were looking into my soul. His lips were still slightly parted and reminded me of what just happened. Where was the feisty me? I wanted to give him a slap; that’s what the ‘me’ I know would do. But here I was looking at this beautiful man with an electric sensation swirling through me. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I can explain what happened if you will listen” “I know you. I’ve seen you before. It was you, wasn’t it?” I whispered. “Yes, it was. I pulled you out of the pool today. I never really got to talk to you” “Get out of my face” I said gruffly as I recovered. I cleared my throat and sat up when he moved away. He sat beside me and took a sip from the glass he was holding. “Why did you do that? How did you find me? Who are you? Are you stalking me?” panic began to rise in me. “Calm down. Like I said I’m sorry this happened. My name is Ugonna Akadike. I’m not stalking you and this happened… Well, I don’t know why it did because it wasn’t supposed to” he replied rather calmly. I was getting angry at this point. “Oh, so Mr. Ugonna just kisses random women after saving them from drowning hours before and never knows why. If you don’t want me to create a scene, better start telling me what you want from me and what all of this really is.” I hissed. “Okay. I just happened to be at the pool with my friends when you slipped and fell into it. I noticed you couldn’t handle the deep end so I took a dive to help you. Afterwards, I tried to talk to you and introduce myself but you were too embarrassed, I guess and asked to be left alone. You never said ‘thank you’” he paused and smiled. “And now, I was at the other end with the same friends playing truth or dare. I was dared to kiss a random girl. My friends were squabbling about the kind of slap the girl would give me. I cockily argued that she’d enjoy the kiss way too much to slap me. So we made a bet. I was walking towards the girl at the bar to carry out the dare when I saw you sitting here with your eyes closed. I don’t know why but I made a detour and here I am. I apologize for disrespecting you. You can slap me now, so they can win the bet” he said with a shrug. I relaxed and just smiled. He was being truthful and in the spirit of gratitude for what he did for me, I was going to let the whole thing slide. After all, I didn’t kiss him back but I damn well enjoyed the kiss. “Thank you… for saving me at the pool” He smiled as he rose. “You’re welcome.” I suddenly got tired of sitting alone so I joined my friends on the dance floor. I was having fun and I knew that he was probably somewhere watching me do so.

Whoever said being in your final year is easy probably never went to the university.
Right now, I’m trying to juggle my tests with my project. My project supervisor really knew how to increase the pressure. I barely found time to see movies; that’s a sure sign that I really am busy. My Dad called very often and each time he did, he went on about how I had to try my best to remain on the first class. That dude just doesn’t know that sometimes, you just don’t want to talk about school. That’s what you get for having a very smart dad. I wouldn’t have it any other way though. My classes today ended by 6pm and I was as tired as hell. It had been two weeks since our weekend escapade and I could pay a fortune to get that kind of break, but that would be paying for failure. I just needed a nap. I had to wake up by 1.00am to study. I was enjoying the nap when I was hit back into the reality of having annoying roommates. “Who is it now? I don’t know why you guys won’t let people rest. Disturbing someone every time…” I grumbled as I sat up. “Take the phone jor. The call is for you” Boma threw the phone at the bed beside me and left the room. That girl knew just how to get on my nerves. I called her all manner of names in my head as I picked up the phone to see who the ‘important person’ was. This had better be good. “Hello. Who am I speaking with?” I asked in the most hostile tone I could muster. A person didn’t get sweets for waking me from my beauty sleep. “Hi. This is Ugo from Lagos. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I could call right back if its okay by you” “How did you get this number? I really don’t understand how you find me every time and it’s beginning to creep me out” “I would apologize again except I’m not really sorry. I didn’t want to push my luck at the club so I didn’t bother to ask for your digits. I met Boma your friend later on. She came to me saying she saw us kiss. I explained it all to her and told her I wanted to get your number. She said you wouldn’t give it to me and that she couldn’t either. She later agreed to let me have hers if I wanted; that she’d pass the call to you whenever I called. So here’s the call” What was really wrong with this guy; always messing with me? I was supposed to be cross, wasn’t I? Here I was, secretly happy he called. I hadn’t been able to get that day off my mind. He’s face was always in my head. There was a striking resemblance between him and Chris Attoh, the Ghanaian actor. You know that means ‘ultra handsome’ right? “Ugonna, I have to get some rest now. You’ll have to call me back tomorrow or any other time. And I do not appreciate your conniving with my friends to do stuff that concern me, behind my back. Take this down” I paused for a couple of seconds. “08064278888. Call me” I could hear him smile as he said goodnight. I dropped the phone carelessly on the stand by my bed and fell asleep with a smile on my lips.

The next day, I got a text from an unknown number apologizing for disturbing my sleep last night and wishing me a great day. Ugo. I had a busy day as usual so I barely had time to think of people who saved me from drowning or kissed me when I least expected. At 5.45pm, Boma, Mary and I were walking to the chapel for an evening service. “Dora, you are funny. Firstly, you didn’t mention your kiss with Ugonna and now you keep last night’s conversation to yourself. Na wa oo” Boma started. “Boma, are you joking? And who’s Ugo? Dora na wa for you oo. If I did the same thing, you’d probably scream down the heavens” Mary complained. “Boma, it was two nights ago and not last night. Mary I’m sorry. It skipped my mind. I’ll gist you later” I pleaded. They teased me throughout the service and had fun while they were at it. By 11.30pm, I was almost pacing. I practically took a look at my phone every five minutes. At some point, I called myself to order. He was just some random fellow. For all I knew, he could be some wanna-be trying to hustle a chick, to win some bet. I took my mind off him as I ate a bar of French nougat and listened to Miley Cyrus’ wrecking ball. The rest of the week went without a call from Ugonna so I forgot about him

Did I hear you say 'drama'?...
Stay tuned for the next episode!
Please drop your comments; I'd love to hear from you.

P.S: The image at the top of the page was drawn and colored by me.. :)
        The phone number was made up. Its purely coincidental if it actually belongs to someone.


Saturday, December 7, 2013


Hello lovers,
In case you haven't figured, I am one huge awesome bundle of drama. Yes, I can be very dramatic; I'm my mum's daughter. You must also know that I am a 'pro fantasizer'. I can literally sit for hours just planning and dreaming about how fab my life would be a couple of years from now- Career, Marriage, Motherhood, Travels....just name it. For instance, I already have the details of my honeymoon on ground and I don't even have a steady relationship yet. (Did you just shake your head at me?) Of course I know life isn't full of fairytales but I don't let that rob me of my plans, dreams and fantasies. Plus, with the right attitude and God, many of those can come true.

I take marriage very seriously and its one thing I look forward to and hope I do right. I know no man or woman is perfect but understanding and complementing your strengths and weaknesses is what matters. I know I can be over dramatic sometimes, and can eat nougats, pizza and marshmallows from now till next year, and that I have an terribly funny and bizarre bucket list but there has to be someone who'll accept those because he loves me and will even indulge me sometimes.

So on the 30th of October 2012, I came up with this ridiculously heartfelt long letter to 'him'. Note that this is not a rigid checklist. I hope you smile or laugh or say a couple of 'aww's.

Dear him,
        Hope you're great? Its funny I don't even know whether or not I've met you or not. You've probably walked past me some time at the mall or even sat beside me at a movie. Its all good cuz I'll meet you in the end.
        You know how people say that you just won't find a perfect guy and that you make yourselves perfect for each other. That's why I'm writing you this letter. Someone has to take the first step right? Not to sound vain but you know, we both have to put some things in place before sealing the deal. I really want you yo know some things if we are gonna stay together long enough to have a golden jubilee. You should know that I'm trying really hard to be the ideal woman: Christian, decent, a great cook, hot, romantic, fun, smart and well educated....blablabla. Maybe I'm not there yet but I'm trying. Just so you know, 
  • I'd love you to be my best friend.....and best friends don't keep secrets from each other.
  • I'd love you to be blunt with me; Be able to tell me anything no matter how bizarre, silly or even harsh (I'm not saying you should be screaming at me oo)
  • I'd love you to be pretty sensitive to my needs; I love to be cuddled and held and I don't want to ask before I get any 'sugar'.
  • I'd love you to be patient; We women have our horrible, tantrum-throwing moments and a patient man should work the magic. You need not shut us up with your fists. A wide grin or compliment or kiss should work. In extreme cases, ignore us and marry your newspaper, we usually advise ourselves at this point. Who wants to compete with 'the newspaper'?
  • I'd love you to be spontaneous; Like surprise me with exotic gifts, the very cute thoughtful gifts, quickies in the elevators... (Don't look at me like that now...Its just these hollywood movies messing with my head) and any other things I haven't thought of all through my fantasy series.
  • I'd love you to be the eyes through which I can see things differently from how I see them.
  • I'd love you to love God as well; pray with me, pray for me, pray on my behalf. In loving you, let my love for God grow.
  • Please be romantic; Make me breakfast in bed (not every morning of course. I know you've got work) and be my very best masseuse [better than what any spa has to offer ;) ]. And I love those hugs from behind. They are the cutest gestures ever.
  • Be so proud of me that your friends will get back home and go all 'can't you be like Mr -----'s wife?' on their wives.
  • I'd love it if you'd have a wonderful scent and fresh breath. I have this refined raw hatred for body odors and bad breath. Remember I have to kiss you very often. Well...I'm not sure we'd get as far as the altar if these areas are no-go areas.
  • Oh please, have time for the kids and I. I want them to spend some time with you everyday and we'd probably take turns to tell them bedtime stories. I want us to have time to talk about our day cuz you'll be my personal diary. You should also know that I have two lovely names for our daughters. You should pick out names for the boys. We'll pick out their Nigerian names together.
  • Now I beg you, please be faithful! Like I said before, I'm tryna be the 'it' woman so I'd try not to give you any reason to look outside. I dunno how I'd take it so I'd rather it'd not be an option.
  • I'd love it if you loved me so much and knew me so well that you could read my lips from 40 metres away, that your heartbeat will be in sync with mine, that we'd have our private jokes and understand our thoughts by just exchanging glances, that you'd be so restless if you knew I wasn't smiling, that you'd look beyond my imperfections and teach me to be the one you'd love, that you'd never look me in the eyes and lie to me, that I'd be the cure to your insanity.
  • I'd love it if you were intellectual with a great sense of humor. I have a sound sense of humor and I'm the queen of sarcasm. Besides, I love witty banters and want to be able to hold reasonable convos with you.
  • I'd love it if you were daring, and would do really crazy things with me without caring about status or people around and what they have to say about us. Teach me to be a braver woman.
  • It'll be a bonus if you're tall cuz I'm not. I'd love it if you can play an instrument or can speak french, or if you can handle Italian cuisine, or can sing beautifully, or can tango gracefully, or can surf or skii. Well, if you can't  do any, we'd probably learn together.
  • I'd love it if you'd let me love you and care for you in my own way; Just savor and appreciate my gestures and help me live the happy life I want. Honey, is that too much to ask?
                Finally, since I haven't so much as met you, let me just say "I love you in advance".
                                                                                                                       Yours sincerely,
                                                                                                                       Future Wife.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013


As I stared into the silver piece of glass, I saw her.
She looked just like me...
Only she was different..........
Different from who I thought I'd see.
Her sclera shone white but her pupils radiated dimly.
Her mouth looked smart but she wouldn't say a word.
She was looking back at me as though I was a rival...
As though I wasn't me.

Amidst our differences,
there was a sense of understanding,
a unity of emotions.
Our eyes told each other our stories.
We both felt the emptiness.
I felt the pain but she seemed to feel nothing.
I felt weak but in those dimly lit eyes of hers, I saw strength.
Her lips were sealed in firm resolve;
She was done crying,
and I was thankful for that.
I didn't need another weeping heart.
I needed the hope that coursed out of her.

No, we weren't on the same page.
She had set herself free, and was going to live again.
I thought I heard her voice in my head entreating me to do the same.
I yearned for her...
To be strong and calm and beautiful...
To be sane.

She smiled at me;
I had gotten the message.
She had made sure of that.
I was going to be her;
The me I saw in the mirror.
A better me.
The stronger me.
Then she turned to leave
And so did I.

*Sometimes, waves of emotions hit us and then we see the clearer picture. I've seen mine and I hope you do too*


Sunday, November 17, 2013


Ignore the title; I have love in my life. Well, technically, I don’t but who likes to admit that? I’m a pretty, short, smart 20 year old girl without a boyfriend and with a huge vivid picture of what love should be. Thanks to novels and movies. When people ask when last I had a boyfriend, it’s pretty hard to say never. So I count all the close-to-relationship relationships I’ve had and give it to them. Clever isn’t it? I hate the weird how-can-you-be-20-and-have-no-boyfriend-look.

At first, I didn’t care about love and boys. I had my books, movies, friends and well, I had boys. I wasn’t really interested in any but I liked having them around. I didn’t need them to commit because then I didn’t have to. This package was even better because I could have about 4 or 5 boys on hold who are obliged to call me every day and send cute texts, so I’m as good as a girl with a boyfriend(s). I never had to feel lonely cuz I had these boys and my crazy, lame, weird friends.

It wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t tell you about this. I am a Christian and I do take that part of my life seriously. That’s kinda one of the reasons for which I remained single. I felt that inasmuch as it isn’t a sin to date, one should have a level of spiritual understanding. That’s my opinion again. Also, when it comes to boys, I have this ego the size of Texas. I usually have limits cuz I hate when boys take me for granted or feel like I’m easily accessible. I used to think being so close to people made you vulnerable to them and I hated that. So when things started to get serious, there was always a reason to break it up. The thing is I just wasn’t ready for the whole relationship drama.

Well, now I am. I’m in my last year in the university and I think I’m all set. What’s life without the verb ‘living’? I know you don’t plan stuff like this but I like to think I could handle it all. It’s time to stop being the hopeless romantic with no romance in her life. So to all the boys out there, I’m ready to eat your hearts out.

By the way, my name is Dee… and I’m the most amazing person you’ll ever meet.

Now that you know me, I’ll just go straight to my thoughts. Every peer of mine thinks I have a problem and I dunno why. It high time I showed them otherwise so I’ll document all my journeys on all roads that lead to love. That brings me to my mum. Did I forget to say I’m Nigerian? Well, that means I have a Nigerian mum and we all know what that means… Drama!
Lately, my childhood friends and family friends have been getting married and as we all know, weddings can be exciting. However, in my case every wedding invite that gets to my house is accompanied by a lecture from my mum concerning the benefits of an early marriage. She might be totally right but for crying out loud, I’m just 20. Some of my mates are still in secondary school- the dumb ones. Each time she starts on me, I remind her that she never wanted to hear anything about a boyfriend and now she expects me to bring home husband material after my BSc. Am I supposed to meet some random dude on the streets and bring him home? Mothers are simply two-edged creatures… That explains why we love and hate them as well. For what it’s worth, my Ma is the world’s best.

Today at 2pm:
My phone rings and I let it ring once before I pick up. Who wants to seem desperate yeah? “Hello, what’s up”, I asked rather indifferently. “Hey babe, where are you? Are you busy at the moment? Can I see you? Come to the pizza inn right now. Did you hear me?”. “Jimi, you didn’t call me to ask a bunch of rhetorical questions, did you? Here’s your answer: I can’t come over. I’m with a friend, Damiete, you know him right? We are at Shevy’s getting lunch. I might have to see you next time. Besides, the pizza inn is on the other side of school; I can’t trek that distance”, I answered somewhat irritated. “Dee, that excuse is kinda lame. I’ll come over to Peter’s hall. It’s closer to Shevy’s so you can come see me there”, he retorted in his regular arrogant tone. “I’m sorry; I can’t just leave a friend hanging. I’ll see you later. Take care”, in-a-matter-of-fact but relatively polite tone. “Bye then”. I caught the call with a hiss as long as a cow’s tail. “what was that about?”, Damiete asked with laugh. “Mtchew. Na Jimi jor. The dude is just rude and arrogant. Why does he always feel like he can push anyone around? I didn’t ask him to ask me out or come after me. I’m just trying to be polite so you guys don’t start saying ‘Dee has done it again’” I answered angrily. “You guys are just funny. Just take it easy. You with all your girl power talks eh. Shey you go slap am ni?” he joked. I laughed. “Slap na understatement”.

Let me introduce the two new people. Jimi is a mistake. I call him that because that’s what he is to me. I met him on a very bad day and he went out of his way to help me. As we girls would always think, ‘there was a knight in shining attitude’- we have come to know that there is actually no armor. I appreciated him by having a crush on him and unfortunately for me, he liked me too. As we spent more time together, I saw more of his self-absorbed, arrogant and impatient nature. So much for the first impression I had. I’m glad I’m not one of the girls who say yes because he makes her tummy tingle because I would have been in deep shit. I’m just going to let him go as easily as I can.

On the other hand, Damiete is an incredible guy. I have known him since I was 10 and I have no regrets. He’s the kind of friend who tells me how ugly I look when my girlfriends are too scared to tell me that my hair is hideous. I always tell him he brings out the animal in me… the crazy, lame, weird, funny, smart, nice me. Everyone needs a friend like this. And yes, he’s part of the people who believe I’m on my way to being the weird, single old lady with a dozen cats on her front porch.

I have a strong dislike for arrogance. Don’t tell me I have too many rules. If I thought I could cope with that trait, Jimi most certainly changed my mind. The dude had the guts to tell me he would stop loving me if it got into my head and that of all the pretty girls who are after him, he chose me. One time when he had to wait for me for about 10 minutes, he kept ranting for almost 3 hours till I walked out on him. I think about guys like this and what they call love and I happily reach for my pillow and smile as I fall asleep thinking ‘being alone is a gift’.

The consequence of being an ass is that people like me refuse to take your calls or return them and that is what Jimi got. He has actually apologized or so he thinks. How else can I explain a box of chocolates saying ‘You miss me, don’t you?’ or a huge stuffed puppy tagged with a card saying “I’m as innocent as this puppy and you know it”. Did I just hear you say ‘really’ because that was the exact word I said when I saw his so called apologies. As if the horrible but cute gifts weren't enough, he sent his short ugly friend called Dayo to come apologize on his behalf. The excuse of a friend started making passes at me and telling me how this friend was trying to snatch me from him with all those expensive gifts. Just then, I had an epiphany and so I dutifully turned on my sound recorder. To my advantage, the errand boy started going on about how he will make me happier than his friend and how he’d never be as rude and impolite as his friend. I told him I had heard all he said and would get back to him. I immediately sent Jimi a message via whatsapp saying he shouldn't send me any errand boys since they did no good. The message was accompanied by the recorded dialogue. The next day, I heard Dayo lost a tooth to Jimi. I couldn’t care less.
I spoke to Jimi two days before my birthday and told him I would appreciate it if he gave me a couple of days to myself- that I was tired of his conducts. He promised to give me some space and I’m relieved. I don’t know why I believed him.

On my birthday:
I’m in my room with my friends eating cakes and chocolates and marshmallows and dancing to Skelewu and Khona when two girls who I had never seen before came in with parcels in their hands. “Yayyy! You’ve got to be kidding me! Dee has a secret admirer. It only gets better. See skelewu things”, Sally screamed as she took the parcels from the girls and laid them on my bed. My room reverberated with cat calls and exaggerated ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’. The cake was huge and said ‘For My Dee’ and it had a tag that said “You are a year older, you should forgive me”. In the other bag were a pair of Salvatore Ferragamo pumps and a huge box of chocolates. This guy sucked at apologizing verbally or in print but his pockets did know how to say sorry. I hate to say so but I loved the gifts and it didn’t mean I had to love the man. And for the records, that was no apology.
You heard me mention Sally right? She’s my roommate, who is a box full of everything you want and don’t want. She is a witty young girl a few years younger than I am who I take as a baby sister. Luckily for her, she gets the nice, working class boyfriends but ends up scaring them away with her yelling fits. At some points, I had to scold her for being too rude to the poor guys. Don’t let me scare you, she really isn’t that bad.

The next month, my girlfriends and I plan a weekend outing to Lagos. Thanks to some bird with a vocal cord, Jimi found out and made plans to butt in on our plans. He secretly follows our trails and lodges in the same hotel as us. “Dee, I think I saw Jimi outside. I don’t know how possible that is. Did you tell him about this weekend”, Mary, my friend and course mate asked keenly. “Am I mad?” “Calm down. I was just asking a simple question”, she replied with a shrug. “No dey ask that kind question. You of all people should know that the last person I’d let in on our plan is Jimi”, I retorted. We dropped the issue till we were making dance videos and downing glasses of skyy infusion and ceres when our doorbell rang. Sally looked through the peephole. “It’s Jimi. How come?” she asked with surprise. Mary gave me the I-told-you-so look and I scowled at her. “Jimi go back to where you are coming from and don’t try me cuz I’ll call security. Respect yourself and leave us alone”, I screamed through the door. Surprisingly, he left without a word. I got a call several minutes later. “Dee, I do not appreciate you insulting me before your girlfriends. I put up with all of your bullshit just because I don’t want to break your freaking heart. This is me trying to love you. Can’t you see that this is who I am? I can’t change for you or anyone. Deal with it”, he said in a precise tone. “Jimi I guess we have nothing to talk about then. Just leave me be”. I hung up. My friends encouraged me by calling him all sorts of names and we went back to dancing.

The next day, my friends and I go by the poolside and met Jimi’s crew already sitting. I suddenly got angry at the whole scenario and decided to go over and give him a piece of my mind, once and for all. I go over to the bar and get a glass of magic moments mixed with coke; I needed the heat and chocolaty zing.  I sashay up to them with most eyes on me. “You know what Jimi. I do not appreciate your butting in on my plans and always acting like I’m some possession of yours. I do not remember agreeing to be your girlfriend so all this crap has to end. I try my best to avoid you and it is very intentional”, I said in a tone void of any emotions. He looked at me and for the first time, I could see shame but not remorse. In the bid to regain his grounds, he politely asked me to leave when I was done so that he could watch my cute ass as I walked away. I angrily emptied my glass on his white shirt and asked him to leave me the hell alone. Talk about drama! The people at the pool cheer at me and I send my friends a wink and wear my favorite cocky grin as I swaggered back to meet my friends.

Halfway to where my friends were, I slip and fall into the deep end of the pool. I do not know how to swim so like in the movies, death flashes into my mind, fear grips me and in split seconds, I think of all my regrets and achievements. Just then, I feel strong hands gripping my waist. Did death snatch people by the waists? Was dying this dramatic? Then I found myself on the pavement with some handsome dude hovering over me in the bid to resuscitate me. I should have stayed down till he gave me a mouth to mouth- a kiss would have wiped out the sting of embarrassment I now started to feel. I still wore a frown till I heard him say “That’s what you get for breaking a man’s heart in the face of the world”.

stay tuned for episode 2.
This is my first attempt at posting a fictional work so please, drop your comments


It is 3.00 am by my time and I wouldn't quite sleep well without saying this:
Everyday I plan- Its one thing I am great at doing. I want to be a better singer, I want to be a great dancer, I want to be one of the greatest fashion architects/designers, I want to be a finance guru, I want live a glamorous life... I want so many things but in all my dreaming and planning, I have failed to 'do' and so, I'm still here, planning.
Many call it talent, some call it luck but I'd say its sheer grace... how else can you explain me? I'm a  tank full with gifts and yet my indecision and reluctance has kept you from knowing that. Today, I am tired of seeing people who can do what i can do excel while i sit here, planning.

I am a fashion illustrator... I am sick of having my sketch pads eaten by termites and drawing pretty dresses for my friends when they need to look good. So hey, this is me putting myself out there. Soon enough, I'll begin to feature some of my works on my blog. Do let me know if there are any openings at any renowned fashion houses.

I write...and I love how i can coin a beautiful article from a random thought. Yet, everyday, I sit and cross out tonnes of articles that might make this blog a better one. I used to sit and be able to trust myself to come up with something interesting, deep or even funny. Now, i spend to much time worrying about blog traffic that i hardly trust any article to do the job. Every time, I make videos for my blog and never upload them for the silliest reasons. I always see a reason for not doing what i should do and then I bother that things in that area aren't getting better. How ironic right? Rome wasn't built in a day. So, I'll do my best to be the best i can be and watch it blossom with time.

They say I sing, I say I try. That intro should let you know that I'm not as confident in my voice as some others are. The truth is, I know I've got some talent in the area but i think it needs a lot of refining and practice. I always go on about how I'll get a voice training as soon as I leave Nigeria. Why can't I start now?

I am in my final year and I'll say I'm a good student. I'm an econ major who loves math a lot and is very interested in finance and risk assessment because of my long term goals. I'm having hard time choosing between what i need to do and what I ought to do. Maybe what I ought to do isn't what I should be doing. I have to learn to live for me.

I'm very ambitious and I'd say principled to an extent. I love to have fun and be adventurous- within reasonable limits. On the other hand, I hate to be taken for granted and am way too independent. So sometimes, I shut in the free-spirited person in me because I need the control and the respect that comes with it. But then, I'm learning that no one has it all figured out and maybe, i should let go a little. I will open myself to possibilities and trust the unknown to treat me right.

I am sick of my fears making decisions for me, I'm sick of praying for God to do things for me that I can do myself. I am taking up the initiative to be heard and I will be. I'm done making excuses for myself or telling myself 'Its not yet time'. I am tired of not having God in the picture all the time. I'm done being a worse version of myself.
Tell who you can who I am... Tell them that I'm done hiding... Tell them there has been a "ME-REVOLUTION".

This is my blog and this is where I speak from. I will strive to write more, draw more, sing more, laugh more, pray more, work more and fear less. i will strive to be a  better me the best me that I can be.
I still have a lot to say but I have to catch some sleep now...

Happy Sunday my lovelies,

Sunday, October 27, 2013


I'm starting to think again and I'll share my thoughts with you.
Here it goes,
Disappointments are a way of asking 'why the he'll are you so trusting?'
You don't get to feel disappointed if you expected the situation. So why don't we just save ourselves the heartache and expect the unexpected?

It has been established that we live in a world of impossible possibilities
So why are we always so surprised when we collide with the unconventional?
A life devoid of mutation is a mirage.
Always remember that reality defies default settings.
You can even surprise yourself!

Don't expect love without envisioning hate.
Don't speak of life without remembering death.
Don't go ahead to trust without expecting betrayal.
Always remember words alongside their opposites.
Life's like an arrow shot into the sky; you never know who gets hit on the return trip...
There's no freaking insurance policy.

So here it is:
Stop whining about getting disappointed all the time!
Start expecting the unexpected.
Its sad but true;
No one is promised tomorrow

Even good stuff have a way of taking you unawares.
Get past the murk,
And you've got yourself a clear sky.

So when life screws you over.
Get back up and return the favor...
And when it treats you right,
Be sure to reciprocate.

Open your eyes to possibilities...
They forget the balance in nature.


Wednesday, October 16, 2013

DEAR NIGERIA...leave our boys alone!

Hello lovers,
I have been having some trouble trying to think of something interesting to grace this blog with. However,I have come to realize that as boring ad my life is right now, it has its perks and I will not hesitate to share my life in the fab lane with you.

So on Saturday morning, I woke up late and as hungry as my late dog- who was always hungry btw. Unfortunately for me, laziness outweighed hunger so I lay on my bed till I could practically hear my intestines snapping. The cafe close to my hostel is really famous for its horrible food so I didn't bother to compound my issues. Furthermore, I was in no mood for the biscuits and cereals in my closet so I was left with one last option- Garri. Yep! The life of a Nigerian student. I had the regular accessories: groundnuts and milk, so I decided to go get the garri itself from a friend

After I got it, I made a detour; had to see another friend briefly. I entered her room rather noisily and exchanged pleasantries with the roommates. My friend asked why I was having garri so early in the day and I was like, "we Nigerians are suffering ooo". She laughed and said she agrees with me. I complained of how bored I was and she happened to be thinking the same thing. She said that Nigeria is robbing us of everything including our boyfriends-that the economy is making it hard to find new boyfriends. We laughed hard and joked about how we shouldn't have turned down some of our eligible toasters since Naija is making it difficult to find good replacements.

After I left the room, I started analysing our very funny and baseless dialogue and came to the conclusion that many Nigerian forces are actually spoiling our parole *in quote* My points may be funny but are valid.

The economy is slowing down the rate at which people get rich- low standard of living and all that... We want rich boyfriends.
The labor economy is not booming; there are no job opportunities... We want guys with tush jobs and fat paychecks.
The Nigerian mosquitoes and sand flies are not relenting... We want boys with more skin than spots.
The health sector is crying for help... Do you know how many fine dudes are to ill to be toasting you?
The educational system is a mess... We want educated boys.
The Nigerian accent cannot be overlooked... We want boys who don't pronounce 'egg' as 'hegg' or 'bed' as 'bade' or even 'fifty' as 'pipty'. *ducks to dodge the stones being hailed at me by the tribes represented above* I'm Ibo btw.
Nigerian movies, please stop giving boys those dumb pickup lines... They're getting old, we want change.
The Nigerian girls are now tax collections... We don't want to scare these dudes away now, do we? They are neither your fathers not God.
Nollywood stop making all girls look like sluts.. We want boys who respect us, and see being what they see in movies when they look at us.
Many Nigerian mothers don't want to let go of their grown ass sons...We want independent men and not boys who use their mum's breasts as head rests.
Let's not forget the Nigerian notion of men over-dominating everything... Im not saying we won't be submissive but we don't want men who will hit us because we said 'hi' to a former classmate who happens to be a guy or men who feel so threatened by our success that they force us to discard our certificates and open boutiques in Balogun market.

I could go on and on.there are so many Nigerian forces denying babes of the right dudes. So whether you are a Nigerian girl, insect, politician, teacher, mum or even the economy, know that you have a role to play in letting us have our dream men.

Im still laughing as I type this but I like to think there is a good measure of sense in all I've written.

Dear Nigerian boys, we will really appreciate it if you could work on your physique, career, psyche, accent, romance skills, spiritual lives etc while we also work on being fab wives and mums. Many of you need to acquire more yards of marriage material. (That was a joke *grins*).

Call me crazy...

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

DaRk sMiLeS

I see the antithesis...
I know the irony yet I'm the practicality.
It's not denial and its not a lie,
It's a struggle and it's a wish.
Pain locks your jaws against laughter and the sadness hides your insanity
And amidst the recurring tragedy called 'your life',
Only heroes like us find the will to smile.

Leaning on nothing,
Believing in the non-existent,
These are steps you must take to finding you
Only sometimes, these lessons are just too hard to take in.

This is my story:
Everyday, I strive to walk past that dog into the light I see...
Every new year, I pray the last page will hold a different tale...
Every month, I pray I don't have to pray this no more...
But somehow, some things have stayed constant.

I am not ungrateful for everyday, I seize the time to sing, dance, talk and pray
And I take the time to smile just to disappoint my problems because as dark as the smile may seem, it is what it is.
The import of the joy I seek to express is an first
But then, it spreads through me like a cancer as it becomes reality,
And that stir of hope becomes a light that darkness cannot comprehend.
The fog is lifted and pure joy remains...
And then I fight not to reach the light I see because in me, it has its place.

Let more tell you why I take my time to smile:
It's the start of happiness and the end of sadness.
It's infectious, protective and illuminating.
It's a shield in a war of emotions.
It's the lie told by a failing heart but the truth told by the healing one.
No matter how pained or toothless you are, every smile brings a ray of hope and a ripple effect, no matter how little.
Only let it come from your heart and not just be on your lips.

I may not live in abundance
But everyday that passes comes with enough for me
And maybe all He deserves is my gratitude because I am never without.
The smiles of the happy are a ritual
But it's the dark ones that are potent enough to save you;
The outcomes of your hope, faith and gratitude.

-For my parents and I


Friday, August 23, 2013


You know the game subway surfers right? I freaking love the game...who wouldn't? Abeg I'd rather have a cop chase me on tarred roads than have those nameless beasts in temple run chase me... Have you seen those temple run roads? Jagged and broken in half; so difficult to run on. The Governor of the temple run kingdom has to be worse than all the Nigerian governors put together. Now to my point, I would say I have a pretty analytic mind. So while people see stuff and let them pass, I tend to get a couple of insights off the situation.
I play subway surfers almost everyday and on an occasion, I just began to see it from a different perspective; like it was a lesson. Lessons are there to be learnt right? I likened it to life as a race.

    Firstly, there really isn't a major a trophy or something. Well, apart from Heaven which applies to only Christians. So it's like you're just there to live right; be fast and be consistent. Being careless can be disastrous and just somehow, life gets tougher as you go on, no matter how much you achieve. However, there are never-ending goals and missions. It's like every milestone is a stepping stone.

   Secondly, those mystery boxes and pop-up trophies taught me that life in itself has pop-up bonuses that are there to spice up your life no matter how bad things are. They might not have any adverse effect when not taken but could mean a whole lot if taken. For instance, when you lose a mystery box, it takes nothing away from you but if you take it, you just might have yourself stuff as little as  2 hoverboards (which ofcourse are lifesavers) or as much as 5000 coins or a megastart.

     Thirdly, Don't lose all for nothing. In as much as you want to grab those pretty lil trophies etc, see if making that move may cost you the race. Sometimes, we wanna make a quick grab and then we just crash.
Discernment is vital in the act of living. Take the super sneakers for example, they are so awesome they make you feel like a bird. You get to jump so high and far that you forget that you have no control of the height or distance of the jump. So sometimes you jump right into a moving train. Sweethearts, sometimes when things are too good to be true, it's a warning to be careful. You don't wanna lose everything for a some spur-of-the-moment excitement.

     Fourth, Learn from your mistakes. Ideally, a mistake made once should not be made again. Sometimes, the surfer makes a move and crashes into a train or trips and falls. Nobody expects the same thing to happen in another race. Mistakes shouldn't be habits. Always try to know what it is you did wrong and how you can avoid such. Learning from your setbacks and actions always makes you a better you.

      Fifth, You are always being chased. Never be at ease. See that cop and his dog, they represent the bad guys that are always after you. Nobody has a trouble free life; it's either people from your village or those at work or random onlookers. Your bad guys may even be inanimate challenges. There's someone after that position of yours at work or in class and so you have to put in your best at every point in time. Sometimes you think nobody's after you and you relax but that's when you have to tread carefully. It's funny how the surfers run swiftly without any sign of the cop and make one teeny mistake and boom!!! There's the dude and that bingo of his.

     Sixth, Always have  a fall back plan. That's why I happily spend my coins on those hoverboards. They are amazingly safe. You crash but don't die, can you beat that? Many people in reality live their lives and acquire so much without so much as a thought as to what happens if the crash. There's only one word for it: FOLLY. The good book says ' In all your getting, get wisdom' and there is no better way to put it. Always have something that'll cushion the effect of a bad fall... It could be an insurance policy, an investment or even a hoverboard.

     Seventh, Enjoy yourself. Why do you try to gather all those coins when you run if you won't use them. Once I have an abundance of coins, I do something nice like get the surfer a new look or but a new hoverboard or enhance my super skills. That's how life should be. Your race might be cut short at any time so take your time to enjoy the essence of your possessions and achievements. However, it is always wise to spend wisely!

There are so many other things subway surfers taught me but unfortunately, I'll do you the favor of not letting you know cuz many of you might have short reading spans and my aim is to please and not to bore. Try to learn a lesson from every and any thing. There's a lesson in every laughter, cry, song, game, cackle, babble or even dance. Take some time to be quiet in the midst of the chaos and the excitement and draw out the stories or lessons from every element. Life is more than an act, it is an art.
  Btw, I've been having a hard time beating my high score which is 537 300. Just so you know. *grins*


Wednesday, August 7, 2013


I know! Don't stone me, it wasn't intentional. I'd never abandon my blog and readers for no just cause. Lemme spare you all the excuses. Pele my people. Feel free to call me the prodigal blogger. The only difference is dat there's no welcome party here. I was expecting new clothes from you guys and a party. After all, that is what people who run away from home deserve. That prodigal son must have had a blast that day oooh!

I have been busy working as an intern at Citibank and it has been awesome. The other interns are on point. My colleagues are cool as well. As for Lagos, dat na anoda tory. To start with, I dunno why I should be in Lagos and have any dull moments so if you are in Lagos, raise up your hand!

I'm glad I'm doing this, my C.V is putting on some weight and my excel skills just got a lot better. Thank God for staff buses oooh cuz I dunno how I wudav been hustling every morning. The only day I tried it, my white pants were looking like white and brown Ankara prints by the time I got to work. Unfortunately, that was the first day of the program. #painful

Unto non-work issues... I'm now on instagram>> @nazzy_negrifille. This is for the friends who wanted to break my neck for not being on IG.
My dreams of getting an MIT masters just got dashed. Don't ask me why! American schools can be annoying. All my choices offer PhD programs in my course except you get in and drop out after ur masters thesis. Something like that. Pfft!

All the things I wanted to tell you guys are speedily leaving my head. So much for returning with gist! Bear with me jor..
Ehen! I have to say making videos for ur blog no be beans. S/o to Sisiyemmie; you go gurl. I have made over 20 videos over the last couple of weeks and they have been ............ *I have no words cuz I dunno* whenever it's time to upload the vid, the devil starts showing me faults like eye bags, smeared mascara or some grammatical error or even how rumpled my collar is...unfortunately, I heed the voice and cancel the upload. I'll have to upload the next vid no matter how imperfect it is.

Where do people get fine husbands from? That's a serious question cuz at my work place, it's like there's a family ad going on. Everyone has posters and pictures of their hubbies, wives n kids all over their cubicle....and they have lovely families. On one occasion, I kept staring at the picture of one lady's husband, she had to call me back. The disadvantage is that the people with ugly wives and husbands will suffer from inferiority complex... Plus, if u wear a ring and ur cubicle is pictureless, ppl will prolly think ur tryna protect the family image. Lmao.
I hereby declare that "I must marry an ultra FINE man". My kids shouldn't suffer facially cuz love is blind...

Let's not forget my fight with MTN. Did you hear that boko haram went to MTN office at V.I. It was actually me. On Friday last week, I sent N6, 500 to the SIM card on my WiFi device. I immediately got 12 notifications from social media and next thing, the money got wiped. I called mtn guys 9 times over the weekend and they kept saying they would reslove it. By Monday, I left work and went there to give them a piece of my mind. Initially, they said nothing could be done, that I browsed out of bundle. How can 12 notifications consume that amt of money? The dude even said I had to pay an extra amount. By the time I was done huffing and puffing, I got my refund back. Dats how N6500 wudav entered voicemail. Mtchew. Thanks to one MAN guy who took up the case unresolved it. :D

Let's not let boredom creep in with the length. I'll just shut up... Expect throwback posts from me i.e. stuff I wrote before started blogging. You'd love 'em. Promise.
If u wanna see some pix of wat I've been unto for some time, check 'em out on instagram.
Below are a few pictures tho... I know I exaggerated the how stained my white pants were... *hyperbole=sweet gist* Really, they got stained... :|

#firstdayatwork I dunno where the 'BLACKNESS' came from.


I'm so glad to be back!

Saturday, July 13, 2013


   I'm on my way to something new...I got a job, well an internship with Citibank @ Lagos and my dad happily burst my bubble by opting for a road trip. Phew! Else, I wudav gotten my usual window seat and flown to Lag in less than 45mins. Trust me, the view of Nigerian untarred and jagged roads is nothing close to the view of clouds and the sky... But hey, it's more reasonable to make do with what you have right? So you see, I came fully armed with a tab, a kindle and 3 new books. I must not forget to add a long playlist and working headphones. However, I have succeeded in sleeping for the better part of the trip...I'm only human.

   I've been toying on whether or not to start writing a novel for some time now *pause* please think well before encouraging me cuz I have tonnes of incomplete works, hence disappointing previous "encouragers". Seriously, I think I wanna start and finish this time. Naturally, I was thinking of titles and themes and 'Illusions of wealth' is one of them. This post wasn't planned but by the time I decided I wanted to write something given the trend of my thoughts, I could think of nothing but 'Illusions of Wealth' as a topic. So, this is me borrowing the topic from myself for a blogpost. I'll definitely return it when the time comes.

    Just as I hoped, I got a seat by the window and started my sleep tournament. The bus driver deemed it fit to stop as often as possible for some reason......extremely annoying. This time, he stopped somewhere in Edo state. The place had a number of streams and he parked just by one, only we were on a higher plane. Just then, I noticed four kids taking a bath/swim and that had to be the most delightful bath/swim I've ever seen. They seemed so giddy swimming stark naked and splashing the not-so-clean water on themselves. I was enraptured by the scene especially when I noticed that one of the kids is about 3yrs old and was being thought howta swim by an older kid. I just kept kept staring till I called myself back....before my seatmate starts thinking I'm some perv checking out the lil black bumbums of the little boys.

    As I stared at the kids, I began to see that wealth isn't necessarily life and that many are living under the illusion that they have functional lives just because they have fat accounts.

   Wealth doesn't buy you some kind of happiness; you shudav seen the happy look on their faces or heard the ecstasy in their voices.

   Wealth doesn't buy you bravery, it can only boost your ego. It takes a wealth of bravery to let your kids including a 3yr old to go to that kinda stream without adult company. They didn't let the fear of kidnappers, drowning or catching a cold to keep them from having a blast with nature. Rich kids can only boast of memories void of the zing of nature...and prolly full of cartoons.

    Wealth doesn't neccessarily buy you a bright future; the fact that all those kids can only afford birthday suits when they go swimming today doesn't mean they can't afford better tomorrow.

    Everybody wants to be rich and successful and many forget to build actual lives in the process. We ignore opportunities to experience new things and pounce on any slight chance to earn more. Learn new things especially the weird and challenging: how to tango (definitely on my to-do list), surf, skii, fish etc.
Have a romance with nature and acquire the essence of life.
P.S: There's a huge difference between living and existing.


Thursday, July 11, 2013


So there's this really...well, you might call it 'weird' but I call it 'sensational'.... Yeah, so there's this really sensational thing I do where I talk to the eggs in my ovaries. Okay stop looking at me like that! People do weirder stuff... And no, I'm not pregnant so its not like I talk to an actual baby growing in me.

Here's how it works:
I see a picture of a really cute family and I turn to my tummy and say "hey kids (well they are kids to be so...), y'all should select the cutest and smartest four eggs and keep them safe. Don't tell me you lost 'em in a cycle...cuz I don't want any ugly or dumb kids". OR friends and I could be gisting 'bout our roles as mums and how we'd treat our kids and I'm like "Are you guys hearing? Y'all better be of good behaviour or daily cane una go dey chop". *not like I'm tryna scare them ooh* My mum says you should always speak life into stuff no matter how distant or non existent it might seem.

I'm not making this up, I actually do it.lmao. Now I know these are not real kids but you must remember that they are potential babies. And if real babies can hear and take instructions, they just might be able to do the same. They have a 'life' potential in them.

This applies to dreams and ambitions. Unrealized dreams are like eggs, still in their comfort zone. You must recognize your dreams and gifts as having the potential to be realized. You must believe that they can' be' someday and must not neglect nurturing them as such. It's like incubating an egg. The hen sends a message of warmth, care and hope to the eggs, and the chicks find in these the strength to hatch. I'm not sure that's precisely how it works scientifically...but hey! Its is my theory.

You must learn to think of the intangible as tangible to pull them into existence. Your dreams are a blueprint of your future which must be envisaged and related with. The tongue has made the world's greatest impossibilities possible. So why don't you explore that god-like capability embedded in you? And if you're dumb, like literally (no hard feelings), you can communicate with your eggs through your thoughts and actions...believe me, they can hear soundless voices.

So my point is,
Eggs in ovaries can eventually become human,
Shelled eggs can turn to be chicks,
Nothing has turned to be the world
And your dreams can turn to be the next you.
Talk to the eggs!!!... whatever they are.

Btw, yesterday I loosened my hair and I loved what i saw.. My real hair is near natural and I love it's bounce. So i rocked my natural afro like never before and I almost lost my voice saying 'thank you'  to compliments. Here are a few pictures I took.
P.S: Stop with the incessant use of hair relaxers and stuff... Excessive use of hair chemicals is bad for hair growth and health. Expect a post on DIY tips for the hair.


Tuesday, July 2, 2013


I'm so pissed right now, my brain hurts (whatever that means). I planned for today's blogpost to be great but due to the circumstances at hand, I'm here to rant.......listen and sympathize. P.S- I feel like biting my tab to tiny bits

Firstly, i haven't been able to reply my readers' comments and I apologise for that. However, na this stupid tab and im wahala. When you go to your "
Post and Comment" settings, it's supposed to look like this

but mine looks like this-

. So as you can see, options 2 to 5 are missing. I've gone thru all settings and I can't figure it out. How can a blogger not reply comments? This is so annoying. I've Googled and Googled again but still, I've got nothing. *screams for 20 secs*

Secondly, my swipe keyboard disappeared after a software update....
Now see what i have to doesn't even have a 'CAPS LOCK' key. :( It's so annoying to type with... I WANT MY SWYPE BACK!!!

Right now, I hate computers... they've succeeded in making a supposed beautiful morning a horrible one. *exhales* I tried downloading the swype keyboard but you'd need a visa or master card for the purchase and unfortunately, I use a verve card. Whew!! My forehead aches, my brows have been creased for over 15 mins.

So please drop your comments telling me what to do especially about the comment ish..
Finally, I'm so freaking angry + the weather sucks... I thought I thought I'd feel better after this rant...but i feel the same. Hope y'all are having a better day?

Monday, July 1, 2013


My disposition of weddings has been a function of phases of my life. When I was kid, I loved them. I was in almost every bridal train. I didn't even have to know the couple; I just had to be the sister-in-law's friend's daughter or the tailor's daughter's friend. Fabulousity tho.. When I grew into my teens, i hated weddings; sheer waste of time and Lawd, they were boring. No one was my mate, you'd find the couple, kids and adults. Finally, NOW! I totally dig them. My friends are getting married so i can relate to being a part of the whole thing and secondly, it's a sure way to keep up with fashion trends. You also get to doll yourself up and get a couple of 'hi's and 'hey, your daughter is so grown and pretty'. Bottom line is that i'm at the exciting phase.

The paragraph above is not even my main point. My point is that these days, the couple barely know half the people coming to help them spend their money all in the name of celebration. I attended a wedding a week ago and it was some experience. The couple are from high-brow families so the high and mighty in Imo state were present. I sat with my sister on a table next to a table reserved for a permanent secretary in the state. Just then, two old men came and sat on the table knowing fully well that it was reserved for someone else. One of the men was just screaming about not standing no matter what happened. He even went further to displace the tag by placing it under the flower vase, thinking no one saw him... He just had to be a wedding crasher or at most, a random villager. It wasn't my wedding but i was ultra pissed on behalf of the couple. I was fuming by the time refreshments landed. These brutally shameless men devoured everything that passed by them with avid impunity. The most irritating part was that i could hear the "schlop schlop" sounds they made while chewing. As if that wasn't enough, they chewed with their mouths so open that i could practically see their tonsils (hey! I'm entitled to the use of hyperbole). It took all the self control i had not to make a video of these dudes. You'd have thought that would be the limit but... *exhales* When it got to the presentation of gifts, the more aggressive man got an envelope from an usher and proudly filled it with about a hundred-and-something naira. I just hadta my mind ofcourse.

My point is that it is simply awful that such people take the responsibility of stealing the glamour off these weddings. Honestly, most of 'em are random people from the village who would gladly seize the opportunity to grab a good plate of rice, and they do not know the difference  between their town/village meetings and weddings. At that wedding, some dignitaries who initially had tables reserved for them had to stand awhile before alternative arrangements were quickly made. That might have ended differently with the actual guests upset and the hosts embarrassed. I attended a wedding some time ago were something similar happened just because a bunch of random villagers chartered a bus to the wedding venue. I'm not saying weddings are for only city folks oo. I just think there should be a way to ensure that entrance is strictly by invitation. Ofcourse there'll be few exemptions but then the town meeting syndrome slowly creeping into wedding scenes would have been minimized to barest minimum.
In all, the wedding was a great one. Congrats Nwanne and Ogb.
For the records, that's me on that day and there's my lil sis in the lil black dress. :)

Sunday, June 30, 2013


Do you think being all grown gives you exclusive rights to being angry or feeling like peeling someone's skin off her face? Do you think these cute babies sometimes don't wish that we could sometimes catwalk into pit latrines and stay there till 9Ja starts having 24-hr power supply (una sabi say that time still far, no be small)?  

I hear people say babies are spirits... dunno how that works but these sweet beings are pretty sensitive and despite their inability to say 'hey, you are really pissing me off', I think they actually get pissed. This one's especially dedicated to naija mums.
P.S-All I had to do to think this up was to think like a think like a Nigeria baby which i was. My point is that this came naturally...from experience.
Here are some things that i think get babies super pissed.

1) Doing 'the face' when they throw up:
This one's for the aunts. You know those 'between-saliva-and-vomit' things that babies throw up frequently, dunno what they are called but you know what i mean. Mums don't really mind but we aunts always screw up our faces and i bet those babies would be saying 'see her ugly face. I go dey here when you go dey suck your pikin nose....abi na eww go comot the catarrh'.  

2) Forcing them to eat by pinching their noses and holding 'em like that:
Abeg this act is plain brutal. Every proper 9ja person should be able to relate to this esp ibos and yorubas. This is what i call operation 'swallow or choke'..and ofcourse the poor kids go swallow naa. .hu wan die? Funny enuf, na when they wan give the pikin akamu (pap), this method they always show. Put yourself in their little shoes; you no go vex?  

3) Putting a single thread on their heads when they have hiccups:
Na the ibo mumsis they do this one pass. Instead of doing something tangible to ease the discomfort from the hiccups, they expect a single tiny rope to work the magic. I dunno if this really works but hell, if you were a baby and it didn't work, you'd be freaking cross cuz those hiccups are so annoying. Trust me!  

4) Going to shoprite with your baby tied to your back with a wrapper:
Una dey like think say na only una dey like baff up when shopping time don reach. Haba mana! While other babies are 'tushly' tucked into prams and baby carriers, some mums deem it fit to 'back' their babies with Ankara. These lil people can tolerate that SHIT in balogun market but shoprite is the limit. Don't you know other babies will be calling your baby razz eh? And you'll be saying 'hey, this Tata is pointing at you, oya greet your friend' meanwhile na point and kill oda pikins dey do your pikin.  

5) Changing their diapers in public places:
This one can be gross on all levels. Recently, i saw a woman sit on the ground outside the church to wipe her baby's ass and change her diapers. I no say dem be pikins but every ass deserves some respect and privacy jare. This lady was hanging the baby's bum so high in the air during the ass-wiping process that you'd think she was dedicating the ass to a deity. Abeg, babies too dey get crushes so stop embarrassing your daughter by showing that her cute crush with one tooth(who she prolly likes cuz all his feeding bottles have BEN 10 on the'em) her cute bum.
Seriously, Nigerian women should really check this one.  

Now, i know we can barely remember things we felt when we were babies but i can assure you that you were damn right pissed if you experienced any of this. Still lmao... Have a lovely Sunday!