Thursday, January 27, 2011

hair troubles

I have tried everything: coaxed, yelled, and even threatened. Am at my wits end and this is my last resort.
L'ange kay,
Blackberry keypad,
MTN network,

Dearest hair,
Its obvious we are now at an impasse and there really is no plausible solution. Do you ever wonder what I go through each day, pretending you're not stunted and at hade's door? Do you know how distressing it is for me to wake up from the good dreams and vivid long hair fantasies to face your coarse strands?
Did you forget we've been together longer than we care to remember?
You've been strong and steadfast, through my queer days, wild moments and plain outrageous seasons, so why can't you hold on for some years longer? You alone know the lengths I have gone, for physical revival and renewal: from using tons of THE virgin hair fertilizer, to adding 'weed' in my hair cream - I have tried everything. You just don't seem satisfied, now tell me, what do you really want from me?
I have confessed and admitted to been disrespectul, thoughtless and even wicked to you, but shebi all that's in the past? Why can't we move past this moment, this time, eh? Why can't you see me for who I am now, the grown-up me, who needs you to comply, so all systems will be in perfect working conditions?
Do you know how much I paid the last time we went to green dolphin? Ofcourse you don't, how can you? They asked me to pay for a treatment - some serum, supposedly harnessed from brazil, a miracle working-healing oil- that would cure us from this wretched condition, for all I know, that vial, probably contained aloe vera gel and ori. It caused me way too much than I had budgeted, and yes, I had to 'bone' a lot of other stuffs. Do I sense a teensy bit of gratitude? NO- but then again, na your norm na!
I don try, but most especially, I don tire. I am writing this letter as my last resort, if we don't settle now, then we will surely go to trial - at papa chiboy's barbing saloon- next week. I am fed up. How can I keep professing a change when I don't feel it - I no b bObama abeg o! I promised myself, this year would turn out great, so I am taking no chances, at all. I am willing to put myself 'out there' if any good will come out of it, if the'd be any improvement in your health, but if you don't sit up, am afraid going to trial is gonna be the only option. I have had enough of your breaking off and lack of lustre.
Normally, I would've done papa chiboy a long time ago, but you know the contours, ridges and plains of my large head - and I think I will look a mite scary ( though halloween's quite far off). What happened to that talk we had at the last annual 'family' meeting? We swore an oath to be there for each other come what may this 2011. It seems the other side's bought you already. Where's the fealty and allegiance you pledged to me?
Yea, I knew it. How could I be so blind and absolutely stoopid? How could I not see what was clearly written in my very legible handwriting?
Apart from the very obvious fact that you don't have ears, and no mouth - this translates to, you can't hear me and things. I think I've officially joined the 'LOONY' tunes fanclub.
But then, this is what you make me do.
Please reply ASAP, a course of action has to be executed soon.
Yours, gravely agrieved

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

ramblings of a MAD village champion - 2

.....My brother had travelled on monday to parts unknown, his cellphone was switched off - had been for days. I just kept muttering to myself, "God please, please, let this be a dream please." Ofcourse it wasn't, it was reality, one I had hoped to never encounter in life. I subconciously summed the net worth of everything I had in my room. The phrase, a bleeding heart, finally made sense to me, after all these years of reading texts and barely giving it a deep thought. You hear how people are been robbed or mugged and you tell them how sorry you are, when you really can't imagine what they are going through. It finally dawned on me, the severity of what I had walked into. The house was robbed lastnight - yes, we had been robbed.
My room had been violated. No other word comes to mind to describe what I saw when I opened the door. First thing I noticed was how different it looked, it had been thoroughly thrashed, and searched. My jewellery cache was missing, I had things in there I was supposed to pass down to my daughters: the gold bracelet Uche gave me before she travelled, the bracelet aunt Amina gave me when she came visiting, my really costly charm bracelet, the first ever gold necklace I bought, some new gold ensemble recently acquired, the platinum earrings I had nagged Lanre to death to get me, my wristwatches, a gold brooch discovered in my mums' old trunks and some other trinkets of value. I noticed my box wasn't there either. Aunty Catherine gave it to me, the last time I went to see her. I loved that box, it was real classy and huge and it had been hers. My laptop was missing too.
They even discovered my stash of perfume. I am a perfume collector and I had a pretty extensive collection: from the amen I had gotten from my dad, the organza I had used for 3years very minimally, right down to the little black dress Nne sent for me last year.
Everything was gone; the uber cool salvatore ferragamo shades I had just gotten and was so proud of, the only cool-looking wallet I owned, my cellphone, all the money I had at home - even the 40naira change in my cross bag, my handbags, shoes, even clothes - I think they will have to reduce them before selling them off.
I was heart broken. Its not as if I have a job and would be able to replace some things soon, no, I am at the mercy of my family once again. They think I just don't want to get a job and be off their hair - someone please explain to them its a cut throat world out there, and am trying, but there's only this much a mere mortal can accomplish.
Human beings, we are really a fickle and vain bunch. There I was, mourning my stuffs and raging at the most high, when I should've knelt down and given him thanks for better things to come.
The thing is after conducting a search of the property, there was no sign of breaking and entry, this meant whoever did this, knew my house really well, knew the back door leading to the balcony upstairs wasn't locked, and had monitored the house and was certain no one was in. The person wasn't exactly a 'skilled thief' judging by what they took , the pressing iron and standing fan in the ironing room wasn't taken, my very portable CD player in my room wasn't missing, neither was the 14inches TV in my brothers' room - or maybe they didn't think them portable enough.
Chima, mama Nescos' son - the woman opposite my house who sells stuffs - and his friends' told me they saw Eka on wednesday, and asked me to question him.
Eka lived with us about 5months ago for a period of 4months, on and off. He schooled really close to my village and had carryovers and missing scripts in school which he needed to write. He used to be roommates with my cousin, and we gave him a place to stay after my cousin badgered us to. His stay with us was uneventful, until the day another of my cousin noticed their house had been broken into. I had been really suspicious of him - he was extremely uncomfortable around me and was always sneaking about. I know this aren't the best of reasons so I will chunk it up to my instincts. Long and short of it, he confessed to climbing my uncles' house with a ladder and robbing them - inspirational Cds, some of my missing pair of shoes and wires(??) were among the things we recovered.
We asked him to leave and never show himself in the village, ever again - well I wasn't exactly civil about the whole thing jare, I raged and yelled.
So there I was, wondering loudly, "what was he doing here, dressed in black, with a face cap? He doesn't know any family in my village besides ours."
He became my primary suspect, and I had to do something. After he was driven, his sister came to the house crying and begging for forgiveness. She was so sincere, I begged her to stop torturing herself. She kept telling us tales about him, and the problems he was giving their family. Truth be told, I was eager for her to leave, so we would just chalk that incident to one of the numerous bad choices we'd made in life.
I traced their aunts' house two days after the robbery, and collected his sisters' number. I called her and recounted the events to her, also telling her Eka was the main suspect.
About 30 minutes later, she called back, telling me how she's so upset and how much I hated her brother - that's why am accusing him. She kept on saying he never left their village, which by the way is not so far from mine, and that her mother and siblings were his alibi.
She really expects me to buy that? A grown man, regularly monitored by his family? Yea right!
She kept ranting, like her brother had never stolen before, ever. Her mum, cursing at me from the background like I was the villain. This is someone who knelt and begged before, just so we wouldn't report the case to his school authorites. I yelled back at them for awhile, then realised how silly I sounded. I was going to play it by the books.
I asked them to come to my village, Eka in tow, so he would challenge Chima and the others' that saw him. Ofcourse they refused, they think I should take their word for it, Ekas' word, a liar, and a thief? Who does that? How do you refuse to clear every allegation against you if you are innocent?
So, let's say, he really wasn't involved in this. Then I do owe them a massive apology, thank God am not to proud to know when I've been defeated.
Thing is, after typing this, I am a lot calmer, the anger has evaporated abi diffused. Things like these, always work themselves out, I think. I might have lost my stuffs, but am alive - that means, I am worth more than material goods( funny how it makes so much sense now), and those items can be replaced no matter how long it takes. Plus, mama was right, God never makes mistakes. So let the drama unfold, because there is always a price to pay for every action - I should know that, knowing how much I have paid for some past actions too.

Friday, January 21, 2011

ramblings of a MAD village champion

"Never go to bed angry - stay awake and plot your revenge." This is the first useful advice I have gotten off any website in recent times. I need to do something, to act - Haba! If I wasn't me, I would even be laughing at me. I have thought about going to okija shrine and to nne ogwuo - but I heard they kill with the speed of sound. I no want that kind one biko o! What I want is simply justice, undiluted justice or maybe a public confession.
How dare she call me back to rant? The other time she came to the house, her back bent with the xtra baggage of the shame she bore, now she says I am not being fair?
How dare they accuse me of being wicked and mean when all I want is to be able to wake up from this nightmare.
How dare I not go to a babalawo, when that seems to be the quickest route to a solution? How dare I start typing when my heart' s so heavy?
Mama said God's gonna come through because he never makes mistakes. I believe that, but I wish he could act faster - but then that wouldn't be God right?
Normally I would sleep through anything, even a fire alarm. Since it happened, I can barely sleep, now when PHCN don the respect theirselves.
Its funny how one can go from being a hero - albeit a local one - to a zero.
On the 15th of January 2011, I officially lost three quarter of all my worldly possesions - not like it was a huge stack - to arm robbers. I had never imagined my house was penetrable, well it's not exactly a fortress or a castle with a draw bridge and a moat, but in the history of Akabo-okechi, nde bi Ifepes' house had never been burgled - NEVER!
I didn't sleep at home that day, no, I spent the night at my cousins' and was rushing home to perform a quick ablution before heading to church that sunday morning. I let myself in through the side door, and didn't notice right away that the living room looked different - the dstv receiver was missing. My heart started a dance, one I wasn't used to. I raced up the staircase, the sound of my heavy self pounding on the terazzo steps, the only noise I could discern. The door to my brother's room was ajar. "But I locked you." I said to myself. I did remember locking it, or was I just imagining things?
My brothers' room was pretty messed up, his wardrobe and every other cupboard was open. I noticed his dvd was missing from its shelf.
By then, my heart was thundering as I waddled towards my bedroom.......

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

...and there was Lanre

"Love at first sight."
*long sigh*
Although I am a hopeless romantic, I belonged to the school of thought, "know him, then fall for him."
Well, this was before, way before I met Lanre. You see, everyday used to see me surfing the web in a frenzy. I was all over the 'en vogue' social media sites; Hi5, facebook, myspace and even twitter - still don't know why I follow people just to know about their bumpy plane rides!
I used to have a lot of friends on facebook - people I hadn't seen in decades and others I didn't even know. Then one day, I got up and removed/blocked about three quarter of my 'friends'.
My thinking?
I saw no reason why I should carry on with long paused gisting with folks that don't know jack about me and vice versa, lol-ing at some crazy status updates and gracing the walls of some others only on their birthdays.
I finally stopped accepting requests - even from people with 30 mutual friends. My love for them sites was waning. Just until he sent me an add request. We had no mutual friends and I couldn't access his profile - my SE phone was finally acting up. So i accepted his request, and we got chatting.
It was simply, "Love at first chat."
Lanre, in one word is sweet and, i had plenty firsts with him; he calls me to laugh about some silly thing that happened to him at work, or his bosses' ginger + garlic breath and sends me silly pictures of him in his work boots.
Lanre was hilarious. He even made us cry on the phone one day:

Lanre: "hey u!"
Me: "oga, ke kwanu?"
Lanre: "na u start o! kiloshele?"
Me: "ma binu, let's start over are u? hws work? missing me yet?"
Lanre: "easy, easy...haba! ok. Am fine, work'z, well work is work and no am not missing u yet."
Me: "hmmmmmmmmm...okay o!"
After a long pause....
Me: "am sad, just dnt know y."
Lanre: "I noticed...u dnt sound like u. Oya spill it!"
Me: "seriously I don't know...I just feel funny jare"
Lanre: "oya o!Mme....hold a sec!"

About two minutes later...

Lanre: "style of your hair, shape of your eyes and your nose....."
Me: "Omg! Omg! You remembered...."

Then I burst into tears. Part of the list by Neyo is my favourite track, off his year of the gentlemans' album. I love that track die! I love it! I cried all through the song and then some. Next thing I knew, lanre was crying too - he loves that track too, plus he is also a goofy character! I admit it was an awkward moment for us.....

It feels like all these happened an age ago. It's been months since we last spoke - after a horrible fight - and i seriously, don't remember his digits. I blocked his profile on facebook and twitter - I really don't care what's going on with him these days. But there are still nights when I find myself thinking of him and missing; our easy camaraderie, his teasing, my english lessons and my awoof 1500 recharge cards.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Warped fantasies

"Undress yourself and lie flat on your back." He said to me, his tone deceptively calm. I groaned inwardly, because I knew it was gonna come to this. I had even prepared myself - I had on a matching set of lingerie. The a.c hummed in the background and my heart thudded loudly in the room.
Years before, I had dreamt of this moment, and longed for this time with him. He hadn't changed much, and he hadn't shrinked much either. He was 6.3, with a footballers' build and a scientists' brain . He wasn't exactly the stop-and-stare kinda guy, but one was easily compelled to, stop and stare! He was my first, and my biggest crush ever. He was 28 when we first met and I was a sassy 12yr old. His family had recently moved into the flat adjacent ours and our parents had become fast friends. As he was an only child - a grown one, his parents loved having me around - to eat, play and just mess up the flat. His mom loved cleaning, and really needed me to mess things up.
We became buddies real quick - only then, he was uncle to me- and I shadowed his every step. I remember him pinching my ear when I called his then girlfriend, a heifer - a word I had heard him use a zillion times. I cringe everytime I replay that scene - aunty Nneka ceased playing with me that day.
He was errtin I dreamt of becoming. He was my role model, my bestfriend and my confidante, and I was the little sister he always wanted. Now that I think of it, I am certain the rogue knew I was crushing on him - he just never let on. About five years ago, they relocated to the U.S after they won a lottery - I swear if I could, I would've stowed away on their flight. I blatantly refused to say goodbye, and disappeared when it was time to go to the airport.

*Back to the present*

I was stalling. Waiting for something to happen. It was 13.15 and Obi, pardon me Dr. Obi had to go on his lunch break. There I was hopelessly daydreaming and killing time, when outside there was this long queue with seriously sick people waiting to see the good doctor. I don't know why I didn't wait to see my doctor - all I can say is, I was in a mad rush to get my checkup done.
"Nma-ma, this really doesn't have to be like this. Just take off your top, and bra, so I can check for lumps." He said to me again.
"But, why can't I see another doctor? I really don't want you to do this..." I answered, with a set expression on my face. I wasn't going to go through with it. No way! To have him see me, touch me? Lie lie! I'd rather reschedule and pay some more than sit through an intimate examination with Obi- whom I still had a crush on.
Chai! God na wa! I even had all the emails we sent each other in a saved folder called Obi - it was that bad jare.
I had followed...ermmmm... stalked him on facebook and twitter - with a phony ID ofcourse - so I knew he wasn't married, and that he had three kids - his daughter whom he named after me.
I just wanted him to know the adult me, maybe he would like me a little - wishful thinking!
I know him and he has always been drawn to the creme de la creme (am sorry my BB doesn't have the french language on it), and the almost wraith-like figures of models. He'd never notice me, not even if I wore only water.
So there I was once again, daydreaming of something that could NEVER be and spinning fantasies - talk about joblessness - when uncle Obi was sitting in our living room, with his wife and three children. Ever the entertainer, he was telling rib cracking jokes about his chinese suppliers.
They had just come in from lagos two nights before, to celebrate the ofala festival and they were staying with us -
seeing as he was dad's friend/business associate!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

random yakkings

Its odd how I let my fear of rejection cripple my dreams this past year. I know me, I am no coward- I have been called a bully many times sef!
In recent times, I have nutured some unhealthy addictions, and shamelessly endorsed the voices in my head.
"What if you fail?", "What if they don't like your looks", "What if you go out and all they hear is you croaking?" - voices, that fanned the flames of insecurity and zero confidence.
I adopted procastination as a slogan and made excuses for the half-alive state I was in - while inwardly wrestling the voices for control. My 30minutes of morning exercise dropped to 5minutes of skipping, and 25 minutes of walking about in a feeble attempt to convince myself I had exercised.
You know what they say, "99 days for the thief...." It took me a month to realise I was halfway on a fatal route to depression.
My recovery has been slow, but things are definately looking up.
I started blogging - writing sure reduces the voices in my head. I just checked out a music school and will apply to study with them, when I get to lagos. I don't exactly exercise right now- but my input < than before - hopefully that will be remedied soon. I have already chosen the songs I will perform for my next round of auditions - at the numerous music contests. I took up reading again, and believe me - well bubu and her boyfie helped - I think my writing has improved.
I am still the same person only, well only in a more organised package. So when next I run into O - who lives around my area and had the biggest lips in my department during our undergrad years - I am certain I will read shock, yea shock on her face. Its true, the old me don't live here anymore!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

W for wishes.

I'd love to be famous someday, to walk past a group of people and be recognised. To have people crave to know me, to have people dream of becoming me.
I want to breeze into a room and be the centre of attraction, to have hunks ogle me and beauties envy me.
I want to walk past a newspaper stall and gawk at the picture perfect me staring back from the frontpage of a magazine.
I'd love to be famous someday, then maybe my family will respect me enough to cut me some slack, and allow me make decisions for myself.
I want to dine with the women who display their assets in an ostentatious fashion, and the men who ridicule people from the other social class.
I want to be stuck in traffic inside a limo with Bruno Mars, Mariah Carey and Staccie Orrico. I want to be included on the VIP list of every important social engagement and not make an appearance.
I'd love to be famous someday, then maybe you would think me a worthy partner, fit to be introduced to the homeboys. Then maybe you would look at me and see a woman, one you could be proud of.

...random thoughts

Until decades ago, we were judged as having no worthwhile artistic abilities. We were our worst enemies blinded by greed and limited by our myopic reasoning.
We couldn't see ourselves in available media except as lawbreakers and heinous murderers. We resisted positive change and embraced the traditions of the ancestors. We frolicked with danger, danced with death and mocked the existence of a different way of life.
Many years down the drain, there arose a new breed of our people - a breed like no other. We have challenged the ways and thoughts of old and built a new beginning for the future. We have been upgraded and our status has been changed. Our heritage is secure, for we don't want our history to die. Where there existed non skilled individuals who basked in the glories of war, there is another generation that celebrates peace maintained through talks and moot dialogues.
Like a proud mother, I stand today to congratulate us on all our achievements; thank you for opening our world, thank you for establishing our humanity and ability in our minds, thank you for giving us a voice and bringing us out of obscurity but most especially, thank you Africa for our legacy.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

chaffs and grains

"Lotz, T baby, Bubu, Maks, Viki and Momo." These are the names of all my friends.
Strange???! I pray not.
You see, although i am a full bodied sanguin with slight traces of the melachonlic and pragmatic traits, my friendship graph deviates largely from the norm - the straight line plots, curve very VISIBLY!
Just like every family, mine also has categories. The afore mentioned individuals all fall under the NUCLEAR family category- you know the type where love, trust, respect and most importantly our history never ever gets blurry. Then there is my EXTENDED family - malice, envy, repressed emotions and plenty greedy traits abound here. Some amount of love exists here, i just need to walk around with my shovel to dig- albeit always very deeply- through the refuse to get this!
In my head, i equate friendship to a balanced diet- eat way beyond/below the normal requirements, and you wind up dinning with maggots.
Not everyone in my family is aware of the others' existence and am excited
about that because the end result is a blend of a unique and therapeutic feeling that is often always extremely addictive. I love that they never cringe whenever i drop a flaw- NEVER-they walk around picking the shards and quelling every insecure feelings that may arise while simultaneously pointing the best routes out to me!
Chaff and grains, thats how i think of my FAMILIES, little wonder!

Monday, January 10, 2011

M and Me!

"Getting it right the first time ultimately saves time" Now how many times have i heard this? Sometimes it helps if you understand the workings of certain parts of a machine during your first use, but the human mind...smh...that is a really difficult puzzle -abi machine- to crack.
I just got off the phone. I think i finally KILLed all chances of being with M, me and my large mouth, my sharp tongue and this darn head of mine that thinks up retorts faster than it processess the damages the words could cause -NOT THAT I REGRET jare!
lemme tell you a little about M; M is almost THE mirror image of my person. He is a clown(a very entertaining one), a fluent conversation-alist(i think this is ibo), a sweet tooth, a cartoon lover, a romantic and spontaneous guy but most especially...a shy guy- a lion that purrs!
We got into a fight about how much attitude i give him and how i almost never treat him with respect...well...i do give him attitude but respect? that i dish to him with a spade!
Apart from him being 15years my senior, he is an extremely intelligent man, one of those born with a silver spoon but who earns a living because of his passion for what he does and not because his father is a retired diplomat with connections that stretches to ANTARTICA.
I really admire his courage. M quit his job with mobil a while back because they never allowed him go offshore. I mean in Nigeria a lot of people will accept this if that meant at the end of the month they would be smiling to the bank or whistling when they received their monthly credit debit alert of more than 3parts of a million naira on their mobile phones!
Thing is, i think i am liking him -Dude came customised for me- more than required and for petes sake that is terribly terribly wrong because he is a MARRIED MAN!

Sunday, January 9, 2011

l'air du harmattan!!

Its 5.30p.m and the dust in my room is literally choking me - never mind that I mopped the floor twice and cleaned the windows.
Its totally annoying considering how weak I on day4 of a water fast. I know I know.... *rolling my eyes*...most people think I have lost it to - join the queue your turn to torment me with wise words will come.
NEWSFLASH: DEAR WORLD, it is my decision and you'r not the person walking about with an extra 50pounds on her, looking like a baby hippo or is it an EFI?
Chapped lips, cracked heels, peau d'orange skin texture,severe hair breakage - these are just five of the horrible symptoms of this disastrous weather I am experiencing!!
Am hoping after this ordeal, that natural honey and lemon therapy will work its miracle on me.
Don't get me wrong, this weather has gat its perks - with PHCN throwing me far back into the stone age - its cooling effect is a welcome relief and did I mention? that haaaaawwwwttt girl in the next compound looks like SHIT....hehehehehehehe...BITE ME! Am hating on her!