THE BODY: A VESSEL OF HONOR

When you look at me, what do you search for?

When you touch my skin, what do you hope to feel?

When you think of me, what do you remember?

Know this:

I am a person not an hourglass.

I am a person not silk.

I am a person not a fantasy.

In our world, there is no one woman. There are women; individual women, unique women, different bodies carrying different souls created to mirror the creator’s person- the lover, the helper, the caretaker, the teacher…

Tell society to redefine them; they are more than makeup, false lashes, padded bras and hourglasses. 

Tell the women to disbelieve what they have been taught; that they are not beautiful until their waists are thin and their hair stretched. Tell yourself you are above the insecurities that bind you tight.

You might have heard this before. Perhaps, you might have said it yourself but do you believe that you are enough? Do you really believe that there is nothing to be ashamed of?

Virtually every woman has some part of her body she is insecure about. It may be the ears they’ve called “big” or the extra full lips or even your muscular tummy. Let me tell you about “Beautifulness”. It is a feeling that accompanies belief in you as a carrier of a great measure of beauty. The moment you believe that there is beauty in you, you will glow with confidence and people, either intentionally or not, will believe you as well. Being beautiful is an art. You study yourself, you discover what is unconventional about your body (note that I did not say ugly), decide whether or not it should stay (In conformation with the lifestyle you find ideal for yourself), discover the features that are most striking or gorgeous and hone them. Do not dwell on your imperfections; accept them, treat them like patients that get better with care and tell them they are beautiful anyways. That is why those muscular “hot instagram moms” are called sexy while Obioma the maid who isn’t half as muscular is called “yam legs”. It is in the impression and expression.

I have been there. That world made up of me, standing alone with mesh walls surrounding me. Mesh walls made from wires of insecurity and lies that I had listened to and accepted as my story. But one day, I kicked down the wall and walked away. Today, those liars come to me with the truth, the truth I had already told myself and believed. They come seeing the real me, the one I want them to see because in their eyes lie the reflection of how I feel about myself.

I am not tall and while it used to be an instrument to taunt me years before, I now get compliments about being cute and portable and confident because that’s exactly how I feel about it. It is funny how I have a lot of people call my lips sexy and full and blabla when in secondary school, it was the first thing I’d get teased about. For some reason, I have that kinda athletic body that people go to the gym to get. So while, it’s not perfectly shaped like an hourglass, I remind myself that it is beautiful and strong and is the only vessel that’ll hold my insides together so gracefully. I remind myself that mannequins and magazine covers are not bodies of people but are illusions that cause people to neglect how unique each feature is as it marries the rest of the body to produce you. Your body belongs to a person; one who has habits, problems, feelings, goes through childbirth, gets stressed out and craves the wrong pleasures sometimes. So give it a break from all that shame, neglect, strain.

I saw a picture that showed off different body shapes for ladies; the figure 8, A-shape, I-shape and T-shape. Each time, I told somebody that there were anything but the “8”, they got mad or a little withdrawn or even defensive. They’d rather be told a lie than believe and see the truth about themselves. It was funny to me because as soon as I saw the picture, I knew I knew where I fell and I was happy to point it out.

Sweethearts, never be embarrassed because you’re not busty or as hippy as the hippo in Madagascar (the anime). Never feel lesser than the girl beside you because your eyebrows are too full; I mean, why do they line them to be wide if they wanted their brows scanty or empty? Never apologize because your ears are too wide apart (whatever that means). Care for your body without hating any part of it. Conceal what needs to be concealed, enhance what needs to be enhanced, reveal what needs to be revealed and even eliminate what needs to be gone but never beat yourself up over any part of it. Be comfortable in your skin. Go without makeup sometimes; plainness doesn’t bite. Take walks in comfortable clothing; waist trainers and padded bums are not your birthmark.

Please note that I am not against healthy lifestyles and makeup etc. On the contrary, they are the tools that help us stay beautiful but be sure that you indulge in the things in the things you do for the right reasons and that you’re not burning yourself out or living a fake life just because. In fact, find out what beauty and work out routines you ought to adopt, the kind of clothing that suits your body type, the right way to make up in accordance to your unique features and embrace a healthy diet.

It would not be complete if I didn’t tell you that as God’s beloved, you are a reflection of him. Do not insult that privilege by conforming to anything lesser than that. Do you know that your love for God reflects on you? You cannot love God wholeheartedly and despise any gift he has bestowed upon you. In other words, in loving God, we learn to love ourselves the right way and manifest his fullness here on earth. There is a depth of wonder you reek of when you perceive yourself in the light of God’s word. Being an African woman can ONLY be a gift. Any limitation you see is the scheme of the devil targeted at reducing the content made available to you by God to manifest his glory.

Stay beautiful.

Xoxo,

Nazzy

TO PEOPLE WHOSE PRESENT ARE MY PAST

There’s so many things I’d love to tell the world; things I know and know not of, things I believe in and things I doubt absolutely, things I fear and things I confront courageously, things I succeeded at and the others that dubbed me a failure. These lessons are like a turbulent tide in my mind, seeking an outlet . . . seeking release.

This is to the children; youth; girls struggling with crushes, low self esteem, annoying mothers, overbearing fathers, ambition, rules and pain; people whose today are my yesterdays.

This is for girls struggling with things mama doesn’t understand. For girls whose pastors say to their mamas “Hey, your girl isn’t normal. You should get her to the deliverance sessions”, when all they are, is different.

This is for girls growing up alone even though everyone around her could lend a helping hand. This is for the girl putting up the façade of a tough exterior when the inside reeks of decaying flesh.

This is for the girls wishing they had what others had even though others didn’t have what they had; for little women straining to make snowballs from the mist.

This is for girls whose backs are broken from the weight of obligation; girls charred from the heat of juggling dreams that are not theirs.

This is for girls constantly looking in mirrors that only tell them that they just aren’t enough. This is for that lass who cannot admit that she loves a part of herself just because all eyes stare at that part with disdain.

This is for the girl who knows but is knocked down every time she dares believe that she’s more than breasts, buttocks and kitchen utensils. This is for the young women who walk faced down because their brown bodies cannot take the shape of an hour glass.

This is for girls whose realities are based on myth and mirages. This is for girls whose tear glands are strained from over-secretion.

Listen!

This is a new year. This is the dawn of a new era. This is a new life. This is time for a new “you”. At the beginning of Joshua’s ministry, God said to him, “Moses is dead, arise…” You are now at that point where God is saying to you “The old you is dead so arise.” This is the point where nothing else matters except what God has to say about you, unto you and through you. This is the time when you become who God has destined you to be and has programmed you to manifest.

Do I sound too spiritual? Well, this is time to be spirit-minded if the physical and all other realms in which you operate in will receive life. Many times, we try to write things like this with our wits and savvy but I’m convinced that what I have to tell you cannot be compared, by any standard, to what God has to say to you concerning the same situation.

If who your peers, your parents, that man and even you say you are doesn’t mirror what God has already said about you, you shouldn’t be listening to them. You must learn to rise above rumors, random opinions and heresy when you are concerned. You must define to yourself who you really are and must refute anything contrary to that.

You are better than your deficiency; that bad skin, bad relationship, guilt or even habit. You are brighter than the depression that eats deep into you or even the failures you have to show for your endeavors. You are exceedingly mightier than lack and the pain that tears through your heart each time you think about your problems. You are simply greater than who you have been no matter the reasons that justify the state of your past. You have the life of Christ in you and are created in the image and likeness of God. This means that all you have been subject to, are now to be subject to your own authority.

You are beautiful   You are special      You are loved         You are wonderful

You are not abnormal       You are extraordinary     You are talented

You are wanted      You are strong       You are courageous                   You are visionary

You are bold          You are healthy      You are wealthy     You are excellent

You are appreciated        You are God’s beloved

TaRnIsHeD

Love at first sight...
That's what he called it.
I call it blindness- temporary blindness- for in the end, he received his sight.
And then he saw me for what I really am...
What he thinks I really am.  

It was sunny and bright.
Nolan was at mama's and I was free.
Today was for me; for the 'me' I had lost.
I took a walk to the park.
The green gave me life.
The chrips were music to my ears.
The echoes of laughter were healing to my sullen state of mind.
Cold nostalgia swept over me as I walked into the arena...
That's what I call it.

Here, its an ocean of lotus and white roses.
The wind brags as my short white dress billows.
A smile works its way into my face and a moan escapes my lips...
Here, I am strengthened by the scent of purity.
Cold nostalgia washes over me as I think of Nolan and the days before him.
I immersed myself in comfort exuded from the petals..
Lost myself in the arms of mother nature.  

A shadow fell over me.
With my eyes closed, I could sense an invasion.
My haven had been troubled and my anger triggered.
I looked up to find a man staring, his mouth ajar in awe.
The pupils swirled like a whirlpool; in wonder I presume.
My anger dissipated into confusion.
Why was this creature here, looking into my soul?

That day it began.
That day passion was kindled.
That day I misunderstood.
This had to be love, in all its splendour.
When it wasn't Nolan, it was the shadow.
I opened the floodgates, and gave everything.
He was the one who would see what no other saw in me.  

Laughter filled my belly.
Poetry filled my ears.
Kisses covered my skin.
Passion blurred my vision.
In this was promise.

Tonight was for us.
As I combed through my lashes and adjusted my bow, I promised to show the last of me tonight. Nolan.
My shadow, I was sure, would see what no one saw.  

I walked into the restaurant to find him on his knee,
A ring clad with diamonds in his hand.
The strong melody of a stringed instrument bounced off the walls.
Light shone around him as darkness made a hedge around the beam.
With glistening eyes and near-exploding nerves he asked me to be his bride...
For a minute, all I could think of was Nolan.
Would he take us both?
'Yes'... I said 'yes'.
The room reverberated with claps as light ate up the darknss.
Surprises. I love them.
The world had witnessed it all.

I pulled him to a quiet corner.
"You should know something"
"What is it my love?" he asked as he kissed my face playfully.
My pulse quickened as the words clogged my throat.
I held unto faith that this would be perfect.
"I had no idea that you would propose tonight. I hoped to show you something else. Nolan. He's my son. He's a beautiful child. I..." I was interrupted by change.
He froze.
The kisses stopped and he held me still as he looked into my eyes.
It felt as though shards of ice pierced through my skin.
His touch suddenly burnt my skin.
His gaze was cold like death.
The scales fell from his eyes and he walked away.
He saw what others saw.
A tarnished woman.  

I stood there watching him and his friends talk.
Must have been about me.
I saw one shake his head and another snap his finger.
Shadow gulped down something in a glass and threw the glass on the wall.
He forbade me, Rejected me, abhorred me.
I was soiled... 'Mother of a bastard'.
His friends patted his back as he cursed the knowledge of me in regret.
A tear ran down my cheek leaving a trail of pain.
Insanity tore through me and I wailed.
I ran wildly, calling for Nolan.
Nobody cared enough to run after me.
Nolan was outside waiting for me.
I had asked a friend to hold him there.
I was supposed to bring him in after I told 'Shadow'.

I took my son in my arms and wept uncontrollably.
'Mama' he kept calling, his little hands all over my face.
They had seen a lie.
For my miracle, he saw a curse.
For my blessing, he saw a burden.
He saw everything but me;
The 'me'  worthy of love,
The 'me' he could love,
The 'me' that was true,
The 'me' he would never have.  

The ring suddenly felt like a yoke.
I pulled it off and threw it blindly into the dark night.
With it, I cast off all the pain.
I wiped my tears, kissed my son and walked away.
..............................................................................................................................................................
We live in a society that thrives on stereotypes. An unmarried pregnant woman has to be a slut. A well groomed young man is most likely gay. We are forced align our lives with often baseless beliefs which are meant to curb decadence.
We forget that in life, things are not black or white. Some things are grey and should be treated as such. I am not making excuses for people who have careless sexual relations. I am only saying that sometimes, stories and motives differ. An unwanted baby is enough consquence. The society should cease to inflict more pain on mother and child.
People have diverse beliefs and I respect that. While you do not want to marry a single mother or father, you need not hurt them to prove that.
Recently, I was having a conversation with my mum and aunts and everyone started to dissect a young unmarried woman who recently had a baby. I had to come to her rescue, not because her actions are morally upright but because she is human and makes mistakes and has probably learnt a lesson or two. Nobody sees that she may become a more responsible person, a caretaker, a fighter, a teacher, a lover and a breadwinner.

This brings me to the question a friend asked me some weeks ago.
'Who would you rather marry: a divorcee or a single parent?'
Please drop your comments and opinions below..

xoxo,
Nazzy

MY SEX, MY CROSS

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.

xoxo,
Nazzy

TALES OF A LOVELESS LOVER: Episode 2

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.

xoxo,
Nazzy

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...
xoxo,
Nazzy