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

ChRiStMaS AND fEeLiNgS

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.
Love,
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

A LETTER TO HIM

          

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.

A DIALOGUE WITH MY DUAL

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*
READ! SHARE!! COMMENT!!!

xoxo,
Nazzy

TALES OF A LOVELESS LOVER: Episode 1

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

xoxo,

Nazzy

ME, YOU, THIS AND THAT

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,
Nazzy