Thursday, April 28, 2016

THAWED... PT 6

source: graphicriver.



Hi darlings,


I hope you guys are doing great. I have thought about you everyday that I was gone. We've got so much to talk about but before we get there, I'd like to drop THAWED (Part 6) here for you. A lot of people reached out to me, asking for it and I'm sorry it took so long.


Just in case you're just hearing about Thawed, it's an amazing, unconventional Nigerian love story that you don't want to miss out on. I'll drop links to the previous episodes before posting the 6th part so that those who have some catching up to do can do just that.


Here we go:
THAWED (PT 1)
THAWED (PT 2)
THAWED (PT 3)
THAWED (PT 4)
THAWED (PT 5)
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THAWED (PT 6):



“Edi where have you been? Aniekan and Edidiong have been trying to call you. Ehn? And why do you look so harassed?” my mother started as soon as I walked through the door. “Mummy good morning.” I mouthed barely audibly. “Are you okay?” he tone changed after she took a good look at me. “I am just really weak.” “Ewo! Nwa m, oya sit down” she moved the teddy bear Didi must have kept on the sofa unto another chair. I hit the seat with a moan. “Mummy where are the girls?” I asked, straining to hear their voices or the sound of the T.V. “Aniekan is rounding up her packing. Edidiong is helping her out. They probably got tired of waiting for you” “I’m sorry. Things took an unexpected turn and I just couldn’t get here any faster. The pang of hunger I felt seemed unfair to me given that I had had something to snack on not too long ago. Perhaps I’d feel better after a short nap.

After I had gotten back from the café, I had asked Nana to go get dressed while I waited for her. Unfortunately, I slept off and Nini who I was really bothered about did not deem it fit to wake me up cuz she got carried away by some movie. So I woke up really late and mad as hell. The kids got a major dose of scolds and of course, I blamed my mum too, for not waking me up. I still felt like shit so driving was the least of the available options. The house was as quiet as a graveyard with everyone staying out of my way. I tried to yell two drivers into making the trip but the ol’ sports just wouldn’t budge. With the hostel mistress calling me incessantly and getting ignored consistently, I knew I had one last call to make.
“I hoped this call would come sooner” he said smugly without bothering with greetings. “I got home, slept off and now, I’ve got to get her to school one way or another cuz there’s no way she’s missing exams tomorrow because her mum had a crappy weekend.” “That’s okay. I’ve got some time to spare. Is the coffee shop good for a meeting place?” I wonder why he sounds amused. Anyway, I wouldn’t indulge him seeing as there were more pressing matters on my mind. “Yes, that’s fine. My car.” I said placidly. He seemed not to mind my tone, said he’d see me in ten minutes and hung up. I quickly got Aniekan’s duffel bag into the car and made sure she was properly dressed. Didi cried, insisting that she’d come with us but at this time, I wanted to be careful about how much of me Amanze had access to and that includes my children. Why the hell can’t I even drive my daughter to school? I mean Ogun state is just around the corner. As soon as another bang went off it my head, I remembered why. There was no way I could drive considering how I felt. I bribed Didi with 5 granola bars and a bar of Toblerone and all was well in the kingdom.
I parked right outside the coffee shop twenty minutes later. I didn’t see his car, assuming the one I saw at the fuel station is his only car, and I kinda doubt that. So I told Nini to sit tight while I went in to check if Amanze was already waiting. He sat with ear phones plugged in, and a copy of some Japanese manga in his hands. This guy is just something, I thought as I walked towards him. He had his back to me and as soon as I stretched out to tap him, he turned and smiled. “I could smell you. That’s beautiful way to announce one’s presence.” “Whatever you say” I retorted as I turned towards the door. In a second, he was beside me, taking long strides towards the exit. “This is Aniekan right?” “Yes. Everybody calls her Nini.” “Hmmm…I like Aniekan or Annie” he said as he held the door open for me. “Do you ever stick to the books?” I asked dryly. I felt like crap and did not have enough in me for witty banters with Amanze. I walked to the front passenger’s seat and let him take the wheel. He got in, adjusted his seat to his comfort and then turned to Nini. “Hi Annie. I’m Amanze. I’ve heard so much about you.” “Good evening. My name is Nini. It’s nice to meet you” said Nini looking up from her Manga. I almost laughed. I knew Nini would insist on being introduced as Nini. “You read Mangas too?” he asked with genuine interest. “Yes. There really cool. I read the girly kind but my brothers like the ones filled with fights and blood. Boys are so weird.” “I know we are. So what class are you in?” “I am in JS 1” she replied proudly. She lets everyone know that she’s no longer in primary school. “Guys let’s get going. We don’t have time.” I said interrupting their conversation. This guy had a way of just making everybody get comfortable with him. “Yeah…let’s.” he started the car smiling to himself. Nini quickly went back to her manga. After a few minutes, I noticed him look at Nini through his rear mirror and smile to himself. I felt my stomach tug at me some, and then pushed all thoughts away from my mind as I faced the window.
The trip must have been interesting. I could sort of hear Aniekan and Amanze chatter away in my sleep. I was just too tired to register anything going on and although it wasn’t the most comfortable sleep, I was glad that I could close my eyes for a minute. Unlike I expected, he didn’t wake me up now and again to ask for directions. “Edima, we’re here.” I opened my eyes to find us at my daughter’s school. Nini was already trying to get down. “Hold up young woman.” I said still trying to boot. “Let’s pray” I said not mind whether or not our guest would be uncomfortable. I prayed over my daughter and got off to have a word with the matron. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Amanze helping her get out the duffel bag from the trunk of the car. This man is trouble I thought as I made my trip to the next block of buildings. On my return, I saw Amanze and Nini practicing some weird kind of handshake. Trust Aniekan to learn these things fast. “My friend come and get going” I said as I dragged her into a hug, partly to stop them from doing whatever it is they were doing. I kissed my daughter on the forehead and whispered blessings to her. As if on cue, I heard the click of a camera. “What was that for?” I asked a bit cross. This time he didn’t look amused or naughty. “Twenty years from now, you’ll treasure this picture more than almost everything. So you do not get to be mad.” Where did all this seriousness come from? I returned my attention to Nini as I let her go and watched as my baby walked towards what she’d call home for the next two months. The boys could not come to say hi. This wasn’t visiting hours and there was nothing I could do to change the minds of those in charge. I had given Nini a bunch of stuff for I got into the car and quickly wiped off a stray tear before Amanze would get into the car.
“Are you good?” he asked still looking at me with a healthy dose of seriousness. I was in no mood for this man’s intensity. “Allergies” I lied swiftly. “You should be driving” I added impatiently. No, I should calm down. I was directly and indirectly letting him see too much. I quickly willed myself to stop being emotional. “Thank you for doing this” I said with a small smile as calmly as I could manage. He just nodded and started the car as the engine purred to life. We were quiet for most of the journey apart from a few comments from me here and there. We just kept nodding or handing me half-baked smiles. The traffic jam as a result of people returning to Lagos for work, from redemption camp and Canaan land was building up rapidly and soon, we barely moved for seconds before stopping for minutes. I was still facing the window with my shades on. It was a few minutes passed six and although it wasn’t dark yet, it was definitely not the moment for wearing shades. I took a gulp of water and replaced the bottle in the holster. Just as I was about to return the hand to my lap where I picked it up from, Amanze took it. I tried to pull my hand away but instead he interlocked our fingers and smiled. “Edima relax. This won’t hurt. I hear holding hands helps with relaxation and that’s just what you need.” I stopped fighting and turned to the window as I drifted into sleep.
“We are here.” I woke up with my hands still in Amanze’s. It was dark already. How had he managed to drive with just one free hand? “What time is it?” I asked. “Time enough for you to grab a meal.” That was when I noticed where we were; right in front of Nri. “What are we doing here?” I asked genuinely surprised. “I don’t know where you live so I figured you could eat something so that you could be strong enough to drive yourself home.” I took my hands back and this time, he didn’t oppose. I popped a mint in my mouth and took a sip of water. “Fine. Thank you.” “Right. We should get going. They won’t serve the food here.”
I am back here, I thought as I sat trying to feign aloofness. This was my first time back at Nri after I swore to forget her and her amazing food, and of course, her owner as well. More than anything, I couldn’t wait to eat. The Lord knows I deserve a good meal after the kind of crappy weekend I’d just had. The place was still as beautiful as I remember. Nothing had really changed. The air was sweet and heavy with something floral. The light was subtle yet bright enough to cast beams on the brown shiny wooden surfaces here and there. And jazz flowed from the speakers… absolutely amazing. The place wasn’t packed with people; just about four couples, each pair looking dreamy as they spoke with each other between mouthfuls of whatever piece of heaven they had ordered. I sat alone, waiting for him. He came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. We got a space for two at one of the cubicles so it was really secluded…private. There was a chair, more like a high sofa, for two and a table both facing the window. So we had to sit on the chair together. I was so tired that I sat leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table with my thumbs to my temples. “You can lean on me, you know?” he offered as he plopped down beside me. “I’ll be fine. I just need to go to bed.” “Here. You’ll feel better.” He said calmly handing me a glass of wine as though he didn’t hear me. “I can’t do any alcohol.” I said still retaining my position. “You should learn to trust some more.” I sat up and took a long gulp. “What are these made from? They taste so different.” I said barely audible as I leaned back on the sofa. “Cherries. You know, I’m beginning to get worried. Is this just fatigue or do you need to see a doctor? Is there anyone I can call to come drive you home?” “It’s just my mum and I don’t want her worrying about me. I’m sure the grubs will make me feel stronger.” I took more sips of the wine as we both sat silently, staring into the night.
“The weight you bear is beyond you Edima. You’re not fine anymore.” “What?” I asked half surprised, half trying to comprehend if he really just said that to me. “It’s been a long day my dear. You should be too tired to play pretend.” He said quietly as he took a sip from his glass. “I am okay.” “You’re not. I saw it the first time I saw you. I thought it was just passing through; that maybe some French wine would help some. I was wrong.” He continued. “I feel like I want to help you…but I don’t know if I can or if it’s in my place to do so.” I turned to face him this time. “You don’t know me Amanze. Nobody’s just an easy puzzle to unravel.” “I know Edima. You are not easy and I’m yet to decide on whether you should be unraveled.” Somehow, his words just did not sound like lines, if you know what I mean. He looked pretty serious, like he did when he took the picture of me and Nini. I stuttered a little and just shut my mouth. “Dinner’s here.” I said in the bid to clear the air. I had rice and some kind of curry sauce with little chunks of goat meat. It was so good and I really felt better. Amanze had a chicken salad and continued to sip on Cherry wine, all the while staring at me with an intensity that made my skin burn while I did my best to think of anything else but him. As soon as my meal was finished, I grabbed my phone and stood to leave. He stood up as well and led me to the elevator without any word. The ride down was short and the journey to the dark spot where my car was parked was even shorter. This all felt familiar; me walking to my car, trying to will myself to want to forget this same man. The difference was he was right here, walking with me and just being unintentionally unforgettable. “You don’t look like you want to see me anytime soon” he said as we came to a stop by the door of my car. How does he sense these things? “Thank you very much for today…with Nini and everything else.” “It’s okay. Thanks for letting me help.” He said as he held the door open for me. I started to get in when he grabbed my arm gently. “You could use some of this.” With that he pulled me into a bear hug. How could a person see everything but how he was part of the problem. I clung to him, his scent- he smelled like heaven. I held unto the possibility of what danced round my mind as misty as it may seem. And he hugged me right back. I disentangled myself from him and got into my car. He stood with an arm on the roof of the door looking at me like he always did. I fumbled with my keys a little and ignited the engine. He leaned in. “Will you be alright?” “I will be.” And our lips met. This time, the shock reverberated through my body. What business did I have doing this? My heart was thumping erratically, threatening to break out of its cage. Amidst all this chaos, it was a gentle kiss. I could taste the cherry wine on his tongue and the need that flowed through him too. His hand came up to my face, gently positioning fingers at the base of my neck. I made sure not to touch him. I knew I’d lose it if I did so I just gripped the steering wheel tightly as I let him literally take my breath away. Despite his gentleness, I could sense…taste an urgency, a demand and a kind of solemnness from him. Then he stopped without pulling away. “I really want to be sorry about this.” He whispered gruffly. He pecked me on my forehead and walked away, relaxingly, with both hands in his pockets. “Shit!”

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I hope things are getting as interesting as you hoped they would. I would really really love to hear what you think. The romantics are probably in a good place while some other people might feel like hitting some sense into her. Yes? Hahaha...  I'm sure people like Duru and Mang Okafor will have interesting opinions.

I'm really glad to be here again. :)

Stay beautiful!

xoxo,
Nazzy

Thursday, January 28, 2016

ThAwEd... PT 5

Source: graphicriver.net



I dug out my keys and dragged my feet to the gate. I had parked outside the previous day in the bid to preserve some space to be used at the party. I unbolted the pedestrian gate as quietly as I could and let myself out. The air was moist and chilly. I quickly got into my car and heaved a sigh of relief. It was a Sunday and I silently promised myself a marathon sleep. I ached all over and could not help resting my head on the steering will. My phone buzzed. It was Eddie. I wasn’t sure I had the grace in me to spend what energy I had left on a husband who was as absent as grey hair on my head. I silenced the ring and put down my roof mirror. I hope that’s what it’s called. Anyways, I took some wet wipes from my pigeonhole and wiped my face clean of all the makeup that had formed a horrid mess on my face. I still had a bottle of water from the previous day and I gulped half of it down. I still felt very groggy and needed to get home as soon as possible before I passed out on the wheels.

The traffic was light and I was so grateful. I don’t think I would have been able to handle Lagos traffic. Somehow my mind drifted to coffee. A friend of mine had mentioned this place in Victoria Island that had spectacular lattes. I couldn’t remember the name but she said it was somewhere around Kofo Abayomi so I set out to find it. I drove around for five more minutes before I spotted the shop, I hoped. I grabbed my purse and picked up a pair of flip-flops from the backseat. The aroma of hot pastries and the brew of coffee hit me hard in the face as soon as I got in; I almost staggered with pleasure. I don’t know if their stuff tastes as good as it smells but at that moment, I just wanted to stand and inhale. The décor was commendable; dark wood, upholstery of diverse textures, mirrors and beautiful bulb holders. It had a homely touch to it and it was surprisingly warm. Not so warm that you start to sweat but warm enough that I didn’t wanna go back outside. I realized I had been standing at the entrance for almost a minute. Thankfully, the place wasn’t buzzing with people so I didn’t get to feel embarrassed. I found a table set for two chairs and made myself at home. I was getting weaker by the second and reminded myself that I had to get going as soon as possible. I began to scan through the menu on the table when I felt a hand on my shoulder.  I looked up and there was Amanze and his bright eyes looking down at me. My heart missed three beats and I think my intestines shrank or something. My pulse was definitely at 100km/h. I quickly remembered how much of a mess I looked like and wished to just vanish into the thin air. “I think you’re stalking me” I squeaked. His laughter was rich. “You look like a mess… a beautiful one though. I never noticed your eyes beneath all that eye shadow” he said still retaining his smile. He pulled out the other chair and sat opposite me. I immediately noticed the scar at the base of his neck. It looked like it had been stitched. He had what looked like two-day old stubbles and his hair was slightly tussled from sleep, I guessed. He was wearing a sleeveless cotton shirt and sweat pants. On his feet, he wore a pair of Nike sneakers and I could see the cables of his ear phones from peeking out of his right pocket. He smelled strongly of deodorant, perhaps, axe. He had sweat on his brows and biceps and back. I was still weak but I definitely had the energy to stare at a beautiful man on a Sunday morning. “You know what I said about your eyes, it was supposed to be a compliment.” “Thank you. So umm…you run every Sunday?” “As a matter of fact, yes. I attend the 4th service at my church so early morning runs or walks on Sundays have become a habit.” “Oh I see. I just dropped by to get coffee. I hear they have good stuff here” I said picking up my purse in the bid to leave. There was something about this man that made me feel uneasy in an exciting way. I hope you can understand that. “Come on now. You don’t have to leave. I can go if you’d rather be alone. Maybe give you a call later on” he said and grabbed my arm gently. I froze literally. The first and only time I had reacted this way to a man was when my husband kissed me for the first time. His countenance changed immediately; he must have sensed it. It looked like guilt, like when a person thinks he must have hurt another one. What was wrong with me? Whatever I was going through was none of his business and he didn’t deserve for me to act as though it was. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit jumpy. I have had quite a night.” All of a sudden, fatigue hit me like a wave of strong currents and it suddenly wasn’t about last night or Edikan’s calls or even the fact that I had been losing it slowly for some time now. It was about everything. I knew it was coming; a great flood of tears so I put my hands in my face as soon as I sat down. As I anticipated, the tears came. I couldn’t control them but I made great effort not to make any noise. So I sat there silently and cried while this stranger sat opposite me, probably not knowing what to do with me, a woman who he barely knew. I heard him move away from the table and felt shame wash over me. I probably freaked the poor man out with my drama. I still couldn’t raise my head but I was done pouring tears. I thought about my kids and remembered that Nini had to be taken back to school today. I had forgotten to tell the driver to come get her. I had to make the phone call before it was too late.

I looked up just in time to see Amanze drop a latte and a thick layer of paper towels on the table. I quickly picked up a paper towel and dabbed my face with it. “I’m a strong woman. I don’t know what just happened here” I said quietly. “I’m not patronizing you when I say we all have those moments.” He said with a smile. This time the smile wasn’t smile. It was as though he was smiling just because he had too. He soon lost the smile and uncapped the latte carefully. “Here. This is the best you’ll ever have in Lagos. And it’s my recipe. I’m the only one who gets this here” he said as he handed me the cup. I took it cautiously, careful not to let our hands touch. I closed my eyes and brought the cup to my lips…then I paused and inhaled. The brew was heavenly and I just took it in for a few more seconds before I finally took a sip. By the time I opened my eyes, he was gazing at me with a kind of intensity I cannot quite explain. “So you’re a romantic. Not everyone knows how to or can even take coffee in this manner.” I smiled. “My father, I learnt it from him. He never takes coffee without inhaling. Some people might think it’s a rather weird or nasty habit but I find it as sweet as he was.” I was still smiling but he wasn’t. “Was?” He asked with slightly piqued interest. “He passed away last year. I try to hold unto what I can about him.” I looked out of the window, still smiling. I could never talk about my father and not smile no matter how bad things were. By the time I turned back to him, his arms were crossed across his chest and his eyes were still intensely fixed on me. Boy, this man is bold! I quickly looked at my left hand; I wasn’t wearing my ring. I had pulled it off the bid to keep it safe when I got really busy yesterday. Maybe that was why he was so comfortable looking at me this way; there was nothing visible to stop him. He didn’t strike me as a wild or loose person but for some reason, I always remember that I am married around him. It would have been nicer to actually feel married but… I changed the line of my thoughts. I didn’t have more tears to spare.

“I can tell you’re a really strong woman and that what went down here was a sea breaking through a wall of ice you’d built. You had to have been expecting that for some time now. I don’t mean to pry” he added and picked up his own latte. I couldn’t say anything to that so I just sat, sipping on the coffee he’d handed me a few minutes ago. He was right, this was the best latte I had had in my entire life. I was tasting something I couldn’t quite lay a finger on but I wasn’t in the mood to know what it was. So I inhaled and sipped and inhaled again. “So are you gonna tell me why you look like you just woke with a hangover…not that the sexy, messy look doesn’t work for me.” I gave him a look that said “you’ve got guts.”  He quickly figured that out. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite think of any synonym for the word.” He looked really sincere and I found that funny. I laughed and he smiled. “Now we’re making progress.” I told him about Dami’s party and the role I played in it and about Nini’s health. He was so easy to talk to. He told me stories of from his childhood and how he’d left his job as a Senior Manager at an investment bank to own restaurants. Just like before, we talked about a lot of things. “You mentioned that Aniekan had to be taken back to school and that you needed someone to drop her off” he said veering off the current track of our conversation. “Umm… Yes. There’s this driver that I call to take them to school but I’m yet to call him and he’s on high demand. I even doubt that he’d be available since I haven’t called until now.” I said as I began to worry. “Relax. There’s always a way around these things.” He said, sipping on his latte. “Sadly, I can’t think of any at the moment. I should get going.” I braced myself to stand. “She goes to Corona at Ogun right?” I had to look surprised. Where was he going with this? “Yes. Why?” “I could offer but that’d probably freak you out. We are not there yet.” I considered the offer in my head. First of all, I didn’t really know this guy and with all the silent drama we had going on, I wasn’t sure I wanted to get my kids involved. Besides, you don’t just take a person’s Sunday away from him like that. On the other hand, I could really use his help. “Thanks for offering. Really. But I think I’ll try to reach that driver first before exploring other options. Thank you for coffee and pardoning my breakdown.” I said with a smile. He was still looking at me in that very intense way, like he was trying to figure out something on my face. “That’s okay but if that doesn’t work out, I’ll be just a phone call away.” he said rising to his feet. I have always had it for men just about his height. I even married one. I smiled at myself and turned towards the door. He was right behind me. When we got to the door, he held my arm to stop me and then opened it for me. Outside the building was slightly windy for some reason. I quickly caught a wisp of his scent and it was musky with a zing of sweat or I dunno… but he smelled good alright. Shit! I probably smelled like crap. I unlocked my car and got in. He leaned in over my window and smiled. “I hope you have a hard time finding someone else to go on this trip.” I nodded said thanks and shoved the gear into reverse mode.
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Hello my lovelies, I hope this made a good read. I know it's high time we got to the end of this series. I will try to bring it to the table more promptly and consistently.
As usual, I'd love to hear your thoughts on how things are unfolding.


Stay in love,
Pray harder,
Work smarter,
Be beautiful.

xoxo,
Nazzy


Saturday, January 23, 2016

ON DECIDING TO BE BEAUTIFUL


So guys, here’s the thing. I have been drowning recently; drowning in the ocean of activities that make up my life. I have lost weight recently, acquired eye bags the size of Texas and broken down one or two times. Let’s not even talk about the needs vs pockets ratio.

Needless to say, contrary to my plans and hopes for starting the New Year, I haven’t been entirely happy lately. This has turned me into such a nag that I sometimes cringe when I start with these rants. At some point, it was okay to rant; I mean I have the right to. It’s me we’re talking about here. But somewhere along the line, I realized that I was actually becoming sad. In the two weeks, I have broken down in serious tears about thrice and shouted more times than I can count. My countenance became sour and every day, the ball of negative energy around me expanded and somehow got tighter.

I am not going to delve into some of the issues I have been dealing with since I do not have the privilege of being an anonymous blogger but here’s the deal: I HAVE CHOSEN TO BE HAPPY. I made a choice to be at peace with myself last year and by God’s grace, that turned out amazing. I was in my ACCA class on Saturday and whilst classes were going on, I was bus making lists of my immediate needs and attaching price tags to them. By the time I was done, I understood why some parents pop B.P pills after looking at their children’s lists.

After dwelling on these needs for quite some time, I decided that although it’s quite disappointing that I may not be able to afford all at the moment, they are not worth my happiness. So guess what, I dropped all that burden somewhere along Ojuelegba and moved on. I mean, when has God not had my back?

I retraced my steps and decided to uphold some of the decisions I made with taking good care of myself being one of those at the top of the list. So I thought you might want to hear some of my year-long resolutions. Note that I didn’t use the term “New Year.”

§  I decided to start zinging my water with lemons and other fruits. My citrus zinger water bottle is already "IN" and I’ve got tons of recipes waiting to be tried out. Yass Fit Fam!!!

§  I decided to start pampering my skin and believe me when I say that most of the things on that list were for my hair and face. Anyways, I walked into Montaigne Place and walked out with 3 bottles of awesomeness in a Clarins range.

§  I decided to stop being grumpy and get around to chores that I felt like are not in my jurisdiction. Like I won’t let myself be uncomfortable cuz I’m too pissed at you for not doing your job; I’ll go ahead and do what I can cuz I’ve got standards and there’s no way your smallness is messing with them.

§  I decided to eat fruits every single night; I need to have that healthy glow. Who knows? Shining bright like a diamond can get a girl a diamond. Lol.

§  I decided to stick to black soap…Yes, you heard me. I have been using Cussons Baby Soap for some years and as you all know, I’m a grown woman whose skin has grown-up issues plus my mum decided that she was done with my child support programme. So I discovered FOREVER LIVING AVOCADO BAR which is amazing and does a fine job of making me N1000 poorer every two weeks or so. Then I went to Akwa Ibom state for work and an old friend introduced me to this jar of black gooey sweetness called “ATONG.”
I’ll skip the details and jump to the part where I started using Dudu-Osun thereafter. So far, I’m loving it. It’s cleared some of the zits I had on my chest and back and the rest of my body is glowing. I was a bit skeptical about using it on my face and just stuck to my Neutrogena face wash. I also read reviews on Dudu-Osun online and many people had amazing stuff to say about it. I also learned that I can use it for my hair. Can I get a “Halleluyah”?
*REVIEW ON MY BEAUTY REGIMEN COMING SOON AS A VLOG*

§  I decided to be more disciplined. I want to remain a Risk Consultant and become a professional blogger/vlogger this year and these appeal to my discipline and sense of priority. I’ll have to work smart, write better, shoot better and just be more efficient generally speaking. I’d also have to make out more time for squats (and the dumbells for those just arrived...yayy!) and making salads and smoothies. You’re probably asking why I can’t fit the four lines above into 365 days without tackling discipline. Well, if you’ve set goals that you are determined to achieve this year and realize that the first the first month is always gone, you’d have the answer to your questions.

§  I decided to build a great reputation among most people I’d come in contact with this year. Basically just be a beautiful person on the inside and on the outside. I know I can’t do this alone, and am constantly asking for help form God.

I HAVE DECIDED TO BE A REALLY BEAUTIFUL PERSON ALL-ROUND OR ELSE WHAT’S THE ESSENCE OF BEARING A NAME THAT MEANS “BEAUTY COMES FROM GOD”?

Xoxo,

Nazzy

Monday, January 11, 2016

HEARTSTRINGS

SOURCE: ideasvalentinesday

ROSE:
I always wake up to a wet sweet tingling on my cheek,
Right where your lips touch before they move to my neck.
My tongue never gets used to your flavor as it bears the drugging effect of wine, chocolates and pure love.
We’ve been married just a year and I still look forward to marrying you the very next day, and saying I do all over again when you hug me from behind.
I often wonder if this would be till the end of time.

LILY:
I have loved you for a decade or so, borne your name for half the time and will want you forever.
I took vows by the sea with waters, earth and sky echoing them in unison.
Bed sheets can bear witness of the passion we share and the lights of how often we abandon them so that I can find you with hands and not eyes.
But outside your arms I know no solace for I am yet to bear the name mother;
I often wonder whether you’ll start to mind that too.

DAISY:
At first your touch was mild and then they turned to jabs that later turned my skin purple after a day or two.
At first I never wanted you to stop speaking for your words were laced with roses and I glowed as each syllable passed through me.
Now I’m running out of heart for each word from you destroys one more inch of it and makes me less woman.
Three missed periods have ended with scarlet fluid running down my legs and more life ebbing away from me.
I often wonder how long it takes you finally destroy a woman.

IRIS:
You have renamed me, re-molded me and made me yours in a way that can never be undone.
The purity of every interaction with you saved me from myself and every hugged pulled more of me out from the clutches of a stained past.
The children are beautiful but I wouldn’t want any without you and I can only love me and them because you constantly show me how.
All this time have taught me that some things- special things like what we’ve built- can defy the Constance of change.
I often wonder how little a woman I’d be if you hadn’t come along.

JASMINE:
I have watched you love me in more ways than one; with words, gifts and care but then, I have watched you love us all in the same way.
I see the lip stains, texts, and receipts, and how you steal quick kisses from them when you think I’m not looking.
I have gotten threats from unnamed women who want more of you and forget that you are solely mine or at least, were meant to be.
But I have loved you more, kissed you more, prayed for you more and given to more of myself.
I often wonder what I’m missing and how every other women manages to have enough of it to give you.

VIOLET:
I buckle at the knees each time I hear the sound of your voice or even the horn of your car; my body lives in the constant fear of the shame my thighs face by you.
My breasts and neck hurt from where your canines constantly dig in each time the bed lamp goes off.
My nostrils are accustomed to the stench of alcohol from your breath and my face to the eerie feeling of you drooling all over it.
You’ve become a nightmare as constant as the wedding ring I wear.
I often wonder how long it will take to lose you both.

IVY:
I have watched your dark hair disappear taking with it all the passion we once had.
Sweet names have gone with age and adventure with the fading memories.
A full house at Christmas and thanksgiving keep me grateful but I often miss little things like your notes and tickles and long nights of sweet nothings in foreign lands.
These days, memories and stories keep me happy and not you.
I often wonder if we’ll ever taste passion ever again before our demise.

LEILANI:
I have loved you for half a century and more and you leave me thinking that more can be done.
I have learnt to disregard age because the longing in your eyes each time they find me have never waned.
You have taken with you “all of me” and returned to me “all of us”; something I never thought existed or could be so amazing.
You have become the best of wines getting better with age and more exotic with passing moments.
I often wonder if death will be strong enough to break what we have.

ME:
I have heard all these tales and more, and have dared love once and tasted its exotic flavor.
I have tried to protect myself from the drama and heartbreak and have prayed on every night that my tale be magical.
I have grown to desire love in its purest form and am trying to learn how to wield it.
Now I’m focused on becoming his dream even before he finds me and loving others so that we can reflect God’s intention.
Perhaps in targeting a thousand souls, I will find that “one” and would have enough love to give and room to receive.
I often wonder what beautiful tale is yet to happen with me.
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 DISCLAIMER: The names are fictional. Also, I do not suppose that these extracts embody the experiences of every woman. However, these tales are as true as many of the women you have known.
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 I hope I struck a chord in you. 

xoxo.
Nazzy

CHRONICLES OF 2015



I know you thought I wouldn’t show up. Don’t think about it; just give me a hug!

Last year was beautiful and I’m not saying this because I feel lucky enough to have seen a new year. It’s true because since I became an adult, I haven’t experienced an age or time in which I had to take absolute responsibility of things around me. I was an independent adult facing life in its barest form.

I had real hard times; not the kind you face because they are a family burden but the kind that become all yours and no one’s. I had choices dance before my eyes, each teasing me with its pros and scaring me with its cons. I was the wind; heavy and dark one some days and light and fast on others.

Above all, I LEARNED TO TRUST GOD ABSOLUTELY AND IN RETURN HE TAUGHT ME THE TRUE MEANING OF JOY. I LEARNED THAT EACH ASPECT OF MY LIFE IS A JIGSAW PUZZLE LYING ON MY FATHER’S LAPS GRADUALLY BECOMING THE PICTURE HE HAS IN HIS HAND. I LEARNED THE TRUE MEANING OF JOY AND NOW, NOTHING CAN STEAL THAT FROM ME.

I faced a lot of challenges but unlike other years, I was joyful and completely at peace and although not all plans came through, the best of Him through me came to life. In as few words as I can manage, here’s my tale of triumph:
  •        I learned to listen to the word and became closer to God.
  •          I kept the best of friends and learned not to underestimate the power of positive energy around you.
  •          Nobody in my family was hospitalized; that hasn’t happened in a while so it’s a mind-blowing milestone.
  •          I found favor with people.
  •          Love came my way...I eventually let it go but I found beautiful moments and made memories of them… And it’ll be waiting at the next junction so spare me the “aww”
  •          I got admitted to a master’s program and a top school in the U.K.
  •          I got a great job in a multinational. (“Great” here is a synonym for stressful and nomadic in nature lol)
  •          I led the choir in church.
  •          I spent a night on the beach…you think you’ve seen it all until the sea sings you to sleep.
  •          I bought new shoes and clothes and fabrics. What? Don’t you know some people are naked?
  •          I wrote more beautiful pieces, stretching myself to uncover more deep and amazing parts of myself.
  •          I ventured into spoken word; I entered into a talent competition, did a few of my pieces and came second. Anyway, the gist is that you can now call me “a spoken word artist.”
  •          I got extra piercings on my ears and learned to love fura di nono. I hope I got that right.
  •          I reunited with one of my best friends and then made some new ones.
  •          God answered one of my prayers with a miracle for the family. Ehen? Must you know everything?
  •          I finally bought a brand new Nikon D Series camera. Thanks to Jumia on black Friday, we can finally get around to that Youtube channel and blog expansion. Please help me beg work to give me a break now and then.
  •          I took a decision to become the “Proverbs 31” woman and to love the “1 Cor 13” way. Without all that last year brought my way, I may not be on this journey right now.


Happy New Year my lovelies. You were an amazing part of my 2015 and I hope we all stay strong, loving and helping each other grow. This year is for miracles and the nature of God shining through us. Make the best of it and do not hesitate to be super amazing with no apologies.

Take every moment and create at least a fraction of your dream out of it.
Take every person and create a friend out of him/her.
Take all that you are and create a reflection of God on earth.
Lace every deed with a drop of eternity; something beautiful that someone somewhere will never forget.

Xoxo,

Nazzy

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

A POSTCARD FROM YIKPATA



I had heard stories about the NYSC Orientation Camp; stories of fun, adventure, frustration laden with bizarre experiences and even pain. Altogether, I was excited for it all. I had to have my own stories. I made up my mind even before it was time to leave for the camp that I’d get my own pound of exciting memories. As usual, my whole family would drop me off at the NYSC camp. I doubt that I’ll ever out grow out of that. I’m in early twenties and this stuff about growing up sucking keeps getting more real. The least anyone can do is not judge me for having my folks fuss over me like a 10 year old. That’s the only childish experience I can currently relate to and no, I’m not willing to lose that popsicle.

A few days earlier, my friend Moy had told me that in some camps, the soldiers coerce people to carry their boxes on their head while doing the frog jump simultaneously. Of course I laughed at the pictures she showed me. The voice of reason deliberately chose not to remind me that the same fate could befall me. That day, all plans made in preparation for my departure to camp just didn’t fall into place. My luggage hadn’t arrived from Ibadan, a host of essential items had not been bought, my parents did not feel the need to hurry, the Reverend Sister who came all the way from Owerri to help process my redeployment was already worked up and everything else just felt wrong. Everybody tried to proffer a solution and everybody rejected everybody’s opinion. Talk about being stuck! Eventually, we came up with a plan; I’d go with the Reverend Sister to camp without my luggage and then my parents will come later on bearing the things I’ll need for my 3-week stay there. It sounded fair to me and frankly, the day was far spent and so we had no alternative. The driver and orderly were to drop the Sister and me off at the motor park. However, we had a few errands to run first. I’ll just cut to the chase and spare you the details of how I got to print my call-up letter, take passport photographs and get money from the ATM. To say the least, if you need to get things done, in a hurry, get yourself a Reverend Sister. I had no idea that people in these parts have so much regards for the clergy people; all she had to do was say “Bless you” and crowds parted like the Red Sea.

The journey to Yikpata, Kwara state (where the NYSC camp is situated) was the most uncomfortable I’d embarked on in a while. The Sister and I had to sit in front together. Hey, I must add that she is ‘not’ a slim woman. After about 2 hours and 15 minutes, we arrived at camp. Oh, I felt the rush. Ripples of adrenaline crept up my spine. At this point, I couldn’t figure out if it was a good or bad feeling. Photographers stood around, calling out to me in the bid to make some money off me. Soldiers were everywhere wearing scowls and frowns as though scary faces were some kind of welcome sign here in camp. Just ahead of me, people were in a straight line, squatting with their boxes on their heads. I smiled to myself; I guess I was lucky not to have carried any luggage. I quickly joined the line and easily lifted my handbag to my head as I squatted. As expected, a soldier picked me out. “Hey, you there! You think you are smart abi? Wey your box?” My voice suddenly became thin. “It’s on its way sir”. “See this girl oo! Are you okay? What do you mean by that?” Silent prayers escaped my head to God’s, I hoped. “I had to hurry down here. The car with the box is not here yet. I’ll come get it as soon as it arrives…” Before I could even complete the statement, the soldier standing at the beginning of the line started yelling. “Oya Corpers, una dey hear me? As soon as I say move, all of una go start to dey frog jump until una reach that mama there”, he said in a hoarse voice pointing at a slim female soldier just a stone throw away. I began to sense that this wasn’t going to be so funny after all. As usual, the Reverend Sister had worked her magic and disappeared into the crowd ahead of us. The soldier gave his command and we all began to frog-jump towards the female soldier who was dancing to a song some corps members before her were singing. After about five jumps, I felt my sandal snap. I gasped as an “ah” escaped my lips. This was going to be some story.

By the time we got to where the female soldiers were, we were separated into two groups. Apart from the female soldiers who looked like normal girls I’d walk by in the market, there was a man clad in a brown uniform I later discovered was the man-o-war uniform. He was slightly handsome and fair, with a beautiful smile. However, he wore his pants so high and his manhood was bulging through his pants in a fashion that implied it was suffocating. I couldn’t understand why anyone would wear such thick clothing and still have so much revealed. Of course I could not afford to snicker; I had no plans of compounding my issues. They asked the group before us to sing and sway to a song with the lyrics “Oh Oh Oh… We are the monkey. We are the Chimpanzee.” I cannot explain the measure of bliss their faces exuded as these corps members sang those words grudgingly. It was funny up until the soldiers asked the group to squat with their boxes on their head because they were not satisfied with their performance. I think my group took a cue from that because when it got to our turn, it sounded like a choir. I contributed with my rich alto as we sang with feigned enthusiasm. We even clapped and danced, all in a bid to avoid more severe punishment. We were then asked to bark, bleat, meow, moo, squak, bray and the list goes on. I don’t know why we struck them as animal material. Eventually, we were asked to carry those boxes on our heads while squatting. You know that look you have when you’re thinking ‘why did I just waste all that effort?’ Well that’s what we all had. I was already doing back flips in my head when one soldier noticed that all I had on my head was a handbag that weighed not more than a box of cereal. “Kai Mama! You think say you get sense abi? Wey your box?” I gave him the same explanation I had given the soldier at the last check point but apparently, this dude cared more about me. “Oya carry that other mama box. You give am your other box” he said directing the latter order at a girl ahead of me who had two boxes. I went to the girl to carry the box only for the girl to hand me the bigger, heavier box. The look I gave her could literally paralyze her on that spot. “Sister, abeg mind yourself. Na wa oo” I hissed as I snatched the lighter box from her. Of course, since I couldn’t yell at the soldiers, I redirected it to the poor girl who was trying to maximize the opportunity to give herself a breather. Well, I choose not to be her means of relief. Did she think I was some kinda Dwayne Johnson that came to camp to lift burdens off tired heads? Mtchew. Anyways, after the soldiers had tortured us to their fill, they released us. Since, I didn’t have a box, I explained myself to a police officer who was supposed to search my luggage for any contraband. He let me in and I was given a pass. I dragged myself along in sandal-induced limp until I got to a place with queues that reminded me of the children of Israel as they passed through the Red Sea. I took the one on my right since it was closer to me. People on the queue either wore a smile or a frown. The ones who were smiling were probably the ones who found their earlier experience funny and most likely were discussing it with the person next to them. The ones frowning had to be the ones who like me, had spoilt shoes, chest pain or something ugly to think about as a result of the earlier event. I joined the latter group. Where was the Reverend Sister anyway? I began to turn to every direction in search for her. I recognized a few people from my school on the queue and unconsciously began to look out for any of my friends. Call me lucky, cuz I found one; Dolly. The smile I put away returned to my lips as I called out to her. She had just arrived and was the last person on the other line. I limped over to her and exchanged hugs and pleasantries. We soon started to talk and laugh over our earlier encounter with the soldiers. She gave me a pair of slippers and put me out of my misery. I told her I had to find the Reverend Sister. I soon found her in a building I later learnt was the OBS building. She had introduced herself to the man in charge and was making inquiries about how she could speed up my registration process and commence my redeployment process. I told her about Dolly so that she could include her in whatever process would speed up our registration process. I returned to the line where Dolly constantly asked me to shut up because I found myself singing or humming the “we are the monkey” song I dreaded just minutes ago. We talked about so much as the line steadily got shorter. It got to our turn and we had ourselves put in the same room. Sister called me out and introduced me to two men who were supposed to help me make my stay easier. Something told me that I would not have any need for them and in the long run, I didn’t.

We got to our room and met about six other girls, three of which were from our university. That automatically set us at ease; better than staying with total strangers. The three girls weren’t exactly my friends back at school but we’d certainly get around that during our stay there. The other girl in our corner wore a straight face and after failed attempts to come up with an impression about her, I forgot about her. She turned out to be Tayo, a very pleasant, funny girl who would never give up her sleep even though the soldiers were breathing fire down her back. Someone was already sweeping out the room so we just chose bunks and decided to proceed to find foams. Before we could even walk out of the cubicle, a soldier came in to the hostel yelling stuff I couldn’t understand. I however heard her counting numbers and knew it was code for “Get the hell outta here or get punished”. Of course, we ran like there were lions behind us. Since we couldn’t return to the hostel immediately, Dolly and I decided to go and continue our registration process. We followed other people who we assumed were going to the same area as us. We found out that we had to be at different places because we had used different medium for the initial NYSC deployment registration. Thankfully, I was a step ahead because I did mine online so while Dolly stayed on the first line we got to, I proceeded to the other one. I quickly saw my schoolmates: Lolade, Sade and O. Lolade and O. are my old friends who I had planned to come with before my plans went sour. It was really surprising that they were still on the line at about past 4pm. Of course they let me join them on the queue. No one really had the conscience to take the last position on such a queue when you had the option of literally moving yourself up by a day. Yes, because some people on that line finally had to wait till the next day to complete the registration. After about 40mins of standing on a spot, we decided to go get lunch. We were sure that we’d return to the line almost unchanged. Along the way, my roommate in 400 level decided to go get foams. I got two, one for myself and the other for Dolly. I will not inflict your imagination with the pain of describing the state of the foams we got. At this point, I was making silent prayers for my skin who cannot speak for itself. On our way out, we bumped into the Reverend Sister. You have to applaud the way the lady disappears and reappears without a sign. You’d think she’s worked there for three decades and knew all the nooks and crannies. She suggested that we return to the line so I followed her back to where I was coming from. As usual, she usual, she worked her magic and in 10 minutes, I was done with my registration. I received my state code and platoon. I was in platoon 6 so I proceeded to the platoon stand to claim my uniforms. The uniforms I received had to have been made for Sumo wrestlers; Nothing else explains the unreasonably large size of the wears. I gave them to a seamstress who introduced herself as Mummy Simbiat. She said she’d amend a pair of trousers and jacket for N1000. Talk about the Zimbabwe inflation. The shoes I got had to have been for Jack’s giant. Why in the name of snow white did they ask us for our measurements during the online registration of they knew that it was literally useless? I figured everyone was meeting other people trying to find someone with a size they wanted and who wanted what they had as well. Apparently, trade by barter survived right into the 21st century. Quite frankly, I couldn’t care less so Sister and I decided to go get some food. I had some rice I hoped would not be what I had to eat every day. By the time we were done eating food worth roughly #400 in regular canteens, we got a bill of #760. Haha… At this point, I knew I was in for it.

My parents called to say they were at the entrance of the camp. Like I said before, I don’t know if the sister has some canine traits that aid her with trails but she took me through a winding path in the bush till we got to the entrance of the camp. I was truly glad to see my folks; like some part of me was seeing saviors. I got to them with ease, showing my pass to men in uniform, some of who remembered me as the girl without any luggage. I was glad they did; it meant I was not going to be asked to lift the box to my head. On my way out, I saw my friend Tolu carrying his box on his head. I just had to laugh. Camp really humbled people, I thought as he wore a grin at the sight of me. I had to mouth to him to stop grinning before he became the scapegoat for the soldiers who would do anything to make a show of anyone. I retrieved my box fro my parents after narrating to them how everything had been so far. They laughed and encouraged me to be brave and try to enjoy myself despite how things were. The box they brought me was big and heavy. It’s a flaw I have; I just don’t know how to pack light. “Adanne, how will you be able to carry these things on your head? Aren’t they too much?” my dad asked with concern. I quickly told him I had carried someone else’s box earlier on and showed him the pass I’d show any soldier who tried to make me go through all of that again. After a few minutes, I turned to leave with my very heavy box and pillow. I could barely drag it along. Who could, with all the glassware, water bottles and tons of white T-shirts and shorts? Its funny cuz I couldn’t think of any stuff to jettison. Anyways, I kept dragging my burden along the serrated dry ground. The policemen let me pass as soon as I showed them my pass. Just as soon as I got comfortable, a soldier called out to me. “Corper carry that box on your head, now!” I was just about to explain myself when a female soldier who was closer to me faced me. “Are you deaf? C’mon carry that thing on your head! Oya Oya” I tried to explain to her that besides the fact that the box was really heavy, I had already carried a box on my head earlier on. “Ehen? And so? No be you pack am. C’mon carry am. When you go dey pack load like say na your husband house you dey go, you no sabi abi?” She yelled. I looked back at my parents staring at us in horror. My aunt had her hand to her chest as she watched the female soldier try to lift the box to my head. Of course she had a hard time doing that, who wouldn’t? By this time, the policemen at the previous checkpoint had come forward to plead on my behalf. Trust soldiers to be bullheaded; the soldier insisted that I carry the box on my head. I was already close to tears as I struggled between taking slow steps and swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. After about five labored steps, the pillow sitting on top of the box fell. I stood looking at the soldier before me with a plea in my eyes. She bent to pick the pillow up for me. “Please sir. Help me beg the men; you know its really heavy” I begged as she replaced the pillow. I was beginning to see Jesus’ journey to Calvary in a new light. The only reason I think she released me is that she knew how heavy the box was having had several failed attempts at carrying it to my head. “As soon as I bring it down, just start running. Do you hear me?” She admonished. “Yes ma” I exhaled heavily in relief. As soon as the box hit the ground, I took off. I had no time to look back at my family and register the relief that must have crept into their faces.

The most adventurous part of the day had passed by. I hung around with friends, got dinner and bought a few essentials at the mammy market. You’d think I had everything I needed and more with how big and full my box was. It was a good night, finding old friend and sticking together while exploring the environment together. I called Akin, who by the way is becoming my personal human diary. He’s the perfect optimist so he went on about how I should relax and make the best out of whatever would be thrown at me. Amidst the complaints that filled conversations, I was grateful to be there. It was an achievement of some sort; another milestone had been reached.
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Hi guys!! I hope y'all are good. I know I still owe y"all the 5th part of THAWED. It's coming right up but I thought we could all make use of a good story that actually happened while we wait for THAWED 5.
Anyway, this is a true life story of my first day at NYSC Camp. I wrote it as soon as I left camp; the memories were still fresh. I hope it made a great read. Those Happy Golden Years!!!!

Of course we'd all love to hear your tales from camp or frankly, any adventurous tales at all.
Cheers, 
Nazzy