Tag Archives: Family

After all you sought me out….

I heard a story of a woman (Mrs. A) a while back who got into an argument with her husband and dear husband in the course of the fight made the statement “after all you sought me out”. Let’s break it down. As a single woman, Mrs. A saw a guy she liked and made the first move. Get his details and contacts him. After a while they get talking, one thing leads to another and they get married. Years on, husband decides to remind her no bi him do the chasing (as I would like to call making the first move). We can go on about how nobody forced him to marry her but…..

Now forgive me as this is my opinion. I am a “I want to be properly chased (insert wooed, courted) woman”. I am a “let the man be the man and make the first move” woman. I have been all my life and somehow Mrs. A story just made me all the more that kind of woman. However, I see and hear a lot of women make the first move/contact and am thinking what has this world turned to? Last I checked, it was the man’s job to find abi? So every time I hear someone tell me “if you like him/want him, make the first move, if you wait someone else would take him” yada yana, I just stay there thinking. Oh a lot of times I hear people tell me not to slack and go ahead jere. After all, the world is more liberal. Don’t be a slacker I hear. Mostly feel like pulling the girl’s ears and shouting “let him be the man”. Let’s be clear, I aint saying if you like a man and he likes you form (ok yeah, form a bit but not for too long) But let HIM BLADY MAKE THE FIRST MOVE. That’s just me ba?

I recently had a friend buzz me. A former colleague of hers says he wants to get married and needs a decent girl (I seem to be getting that a lot these days). Like a group of friends just sat somewhere and have decided “if she won’t get a man, we would get one for her”. Anywayz, according to my friend “I don’t know why my mind went to you”. Trust me in less than a minute, my emotions ranged from anger to wanting to give her a piece of my mind (as we often say) to just ignoring that statement. She wanted me to “consider him” as he had been on her neck to get him a wife. How does this relate to making the first move? I had asked her to give me till last night cuz frankly though I had my answer I didn’t want to be accused of being too hard or tough or not open minded. She buzzes again last night and from our conversation, she wants me to make the first move. YEPA!!!!! Gist is she tells him about me BUT I contact him. Short of telling her off (which I now wish I did), I have told her not to bother. I am not interested.

I ask, is it now proper for a lady to make the first move? Forgive me, I might still be living in the medieval times so maybe that’s why I am thinking like that. Maybe just maybe I need to be enlightened. Who wants to help me out here? Cuz I would hate to make a move and get burnt sometimes in future.

The post I have been postponing just might never happen. However, I would drop some pictures that are meant to make some people jealous of the fact that I have been having fun and hanging out and having a ball and not living a boring life and ok I give up.

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And yeah it has to do with food. From Bar Campione (who make one of the best sandwiches in Lagos, 3 times the charm) to Coral Blue (first time I went there – last year, it was absolutely fantastic, second time around, not quite – my excuse though, it was quite late at night) to Ice Cream Factory (not even Coldstone can take away my love for you). And haha, Talindo Steak Place – tucked somewhere on Karim Kotun. Better service second time around (and this was also late at night – Monday). Amazing brownie they got. And yeah if you are on instagram, check out Rumnpassion (rumnpassion) and Crème Brulee Lagos (cremebruleelagos). I have tried rumnpassion’s cupcakes…. That rapturous feeling. Haven’t tried cremebrulee yet but I know it is only a matter of time. I have a sweet tooth. Shoot me. It is a miracle I aint fat.

Monday made it 15 years I lost my uncle and yesterday, 9 years I lost the man I called my maternal grandfather (my mum lost her dad many many many years ago so my grandma’s brother became my grandpa) and I just realized no matter how long a loved one has been gone, you can never forget them. The memories stay with you forever.

Have a great weekend people.

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Who would fix our society, who set the rules?

Today, one of the few days I get to listen in on a radio programme for long, I hear a 17 year old SS1 boy connived with his friend to kidnap his cousin. Why? Because his uncle (his cousin’s father) “refused” to pay his school fees. So a lot of people called in with their “versions” of what might have gone wrong. Some even asked why his uncle would refuse to pay his fees, I won’t even give a reply to those people. All it just boils down to (to me sha) is we live in a broken society. A society where there are no values whatsoever. Parents refuse to teach their children. 1st point of call. Teachers refuse to teach the children (in some cases) the right thing. 2nd point of call. A lot of churches (and mosques) refuse to teach children the right thing. 3rd point of call.

2 things have broken down in Nigeria. The other can be fixed (if our leaders set their hearts to it); infrastructure. Second, which seems near impossible to fix is our value system. Children grow up these days not know what values their families have. What guides the actions or inactions of the family. What is important to the family. How would a 17 year old (I really don’t know what he is still doing in SS1 but let’s just assume he didn’t start school early) decide to kidnap someone? And he felt it was the proper thing to do. What happened to getting a job? And nobody should play the child abuse card with me. He is 17. If he could think of kidnapping, then he is no longer a child. I mean I started working every holiday I had from 17. We can blame it on what they (the children) see on TV and what have you. But seriously parents, uncles, aunties, etal, we got a lot of work to do. We need to seriously start instilling values and other important things into younger ones. Before it breaks completely. We all have the responsibility to fix this ish.

I think parents should also stop shielding these children from the realities of life. Life isn’t breakfast in bed, ice cream and pizza for lunch, and what have you for dinner. Except your father is Dangote or Adenuga or Otudeko, life would freaking not be easy. Let children learn to be as independent as possible. I mean how would I have an over 20 years old child come and report people to me and I decide to find out what the problem is (when no be say dem dey bully the child). If I allow that, then I should be prepared to hear how the spouse said something every day. How one colleague gave him/her bad eye at work. How one woman insulted her at the supermarket. How one driver splashed water on him/her one rainy day. Please I have my husband to take care of. Make every child face their own families. Let them face the harsh realities of life and become better people. By all means if you can afford all the good things, give your children. But let them know it would not always be like that. Withdraw from giving when necessary.

I had a roommate who spent 8 years for a 4 year course not because of carry over but because she had to pay her way through school. Her irresponsible father (story for another day) stopped paying her fees in her 3rd year. She faced life squarely and came out tops. Forget that she graduated with me (4 years her junior). I am sure she won’t spoil her children. It is amazing when I see parents who didn’t have it so easy decide since they didn’t their children must not suffer same fate. Who said by showing them life isn’t easy, they are suffering the same fate?

Moving on, who sets the rules? Who decides the standard? Who determines who should be called aje butter and aje pako? Who set/ sets stereotypes? I see this babe with well manicured nails and a car and I just assume she can’t do anything, or she has had it so easy, she won’t understand. Or that dude and just assume butter can’t melt in his mouth. I am rambling I know. So I would stop here.

I wish every time some bad thing happens, people stop playing the race/tribe/religion/nationality card. And just take the culprit as he/she is. A person who isn’t insane (that insanity ish doesn’t werk for me, mo sorry) who premeditates (sat down, thought about it) and decided to do something barbaric and inhuman.

In more interesting news, baby sis is a graduate. Yayyy. 4 outta 4 done….

Musings and lessons learnt?

So here I am, putting down things that occurred to me during the week (some I already knew but they never hit me the way they did during the course of the week).

1. It matters what people say about you when you are gone. This Baroness Thatcher issue again. My knowledge of her for long was just that I knew she was once Prime Minister, the first female and yada yana. Well, asides the fact that I grew up being called Thatcher or Iron Lady. I just wonder, if she wasn’t firm/strict/unshaken (put your preferred English), would people talk about her the way they do? We are usually told, it doesn’t matter what people say/think about you. I think it does. That said, be rest assured, you cannot satisfy everybody. And not all people would say nice/good/positive (again if this doesn’t do you, put what your prefer) things about you. Above all, what matters is what heaven says about you.

2. I had a conversation with a friend some months back about singlehood (is there a word like that? Ok I have added it to the dictionary) and I asked if it ever occurred to her maybe she wasn’t meant to get married. As I expected, she got all so Christianise with the God forbid, Olorun maje, not my portion ish. Not like I blame her though. I completely forgot that conversation. Till worshipandswag’s post on destined to be single. And I just smiled. I am of the opinion that not everybody would get married (same way not everybody would have children). I believe the African culture places so much “importance” (note the quotes, marriage is important but not overtly important, at least not the way most people take it like their lives depend on it and if they don’t get married, their world aint ok) on marriage. Unnecessary importance and as such for a lot of people (especially women) it is inconceivable to think they would NEVER get married. A lot of us cannot just fathom it. Don’t get me wrong, it is completely and absolutely legitimate for any man or woman to desire to get married. Even God realised that man shouldn’t be alone and decided to give him a help, meet for him. I still believe though that contrary to what a lot of people believe, not everybody was created to get married.

3. A few of us were discussing before our church’s single fellowship yesterday (and somehow everybody else was what we term a matured single, asides me and the single fellowship leader who is very married) and this woman (the leader) was gisting us about when she had her marriage counselling. She said their counsellor told her that for a lot of people (once again, women especially), we go into marriages with a preconceived idea of what we want our marriages to be like (not that it is bad, but we all know the danger of unmet expectations right? I don’t need to dwell on that). She said we build towers, block on block, brick on brick and then make the man the roof. And then the shaking starts. He rocks it once, small cracks appear, we patch it. He rocks it the second time (now the cracks widen). We patch and glue and do all sorts. And then one day, the whole tower comes crumbling down, with the weight of the man (the roof) on the woman (or man, depends on who built the tower). Whatever happens after then, na only God fit save the pesin. Lesson is make God the roof. Your husband/wife would disappoint. There would be rocking but with Him at the top, all is well. The person you are most sensitive to is the easiest to disappoint you.

4. Never cease to appreciate your friends and family. I felt for so long I have stopped appreciating and thanking family members and friends. Like I always felt I needed to have a reason to say thank you to them. Well, I do know now, I don’t need a reason. For just putting up with me alone, it is enough to be thankful for. iJoke. I am the nicest person to be around. In my head. You don’t need a reason to appreciate people. So a VERY BIG THANK YOU to everybody who reads this blog, to friends, to family, to friends who are more than friends, to friends who have become family, to everybody. Thank you. E se pupo. And no, I am not dying.

5. I had a hair mishap this night. I was told mixing egg with some many tinz helps hair growth, strengthens your hair and all. And as I am on a hair growth journey, I decided to try it out. Got out of the bathroom to discover my hair was “glued” together. This wasn’t a “it is tangled” level. It was like someone poured glue on my head. After 30 seconds of freaking out (and having my sisters laugh their lives out), I rushed back in and started washing the life out of it. Well, lost quite a lot of hair sadly but not that bad. Lesson: when you wanna try such stunts, go to a salon and get someone to make the mix for you, that way, you have someone to sue if anything goes wrong. iKid. The main lesson is, it worked for Mimi no mean say e go work for Deronk. Ik does it that way no mean say the day Kc do am, e no go get K-leg. That said, I am scared I would wake up later in the day with no hair on my head. And no, I won’t upload pictures of me bald (if that ever happens). I love the egg mix smell though. Just doubt I am gonna try it again.

In other more interesting news, we have a gown. Lols. One of my “brides” has picked her gown. Really excited. Can’t put up pictures yet. You shall see it in a few months. However, how do I get bride B to get more serious about this planning.

In other other news, I see some people owe us some posts. If you owe us (blogsville, a few posts, raise your hands). Ok I see a couple of hands. One male, one female. Did I mention names? Be guided o.

In unrelated news (well, indulge me, no be news), you can never tell a person’s true character until you work (or walk) with them.

Happy Sunday people.

What’s good yo????

It has been a while I have logged in here. E ma binu (I am sorry). Trying to sort myself out as per job ish and all. Plus I also want my 100th post to coincide with this blog’s 2nd anniversary and as I am 2 posts shy of that, I gas watch how often I log in. Started “work” at an interior design company some 3 minutes from home on Monday. Well more like having a “somewhere to go to pending when you get a job” place. Grateful for elder sisters and brothers you can count on. The owner (I would call her and her husband my egbons) just called me up one morning to ask if I didn’t mind doing an internship till I get a job. Could I refuse? No. And am loving every bit.

Which brings me to the main reason for this post. Every wondered why recruiters/interviewers get upset and all during interviews? Well I had first hand experience yesterday. We are recruiting for a client service officer. Four ladies showed up yesterday for their interviews. Lady 1 cannot express herself, kept looking down. She was born in 1991. Lady 2, came in, was asked questions and she started laughing. Like seriously? We had to ask her to stop laughing. Then she started smiling. Ok, you say you have worked as a secretary and receptionist. How would the skills you got apply in this case. Madam is still smiling. Ok let us help her a bit. As a secretary, you interacted with people yeah? With the people skills you got, how would it help in this case? She still couldn’t answer. For like 10 minutes. Do you know what we do here? No answer. We had to ask her to leave. She was born in 1977. Lady 3 came in, immediately asked what the company was about, locations and some quick questions before her interview began. Fair enough. And lady 4? Forgot her CV at home. By then, I was definitely done. I mentioned the years of birth of the first 2 ladies yeah. Got me thinking. Is it safe to say that education in Nigeria started going down since the late 1970s?

Today, I was on the other side of the divide. I went for a test. It was a very laughable but serious experience. 3 out of 7 of us could construct sentences properly. In fact one of the others asked me “can you cut your eraser for me?” I had a blank stare at first. The last time I heard someone put cut and eraser especially with that accent was 10 years ago. You know those GCE exams where we were thrown to some village to write your papers surrounded by Ibadan gehs? Or when the same lady said (after 50 minutes) “I don’t know the time has gone”.

I am sorry but I had this disgusted look when I saw the people I was writing the test with. I felt bad though. That was all shades of wrong but I couldn’t help it. If you are applying for a post as an analyst and you can’t speak properly…. I shouldn’t have I know. After all the test was more of GMAT and you don’t need to speak Queen’s English to answer the Mathematics, Data Sufficiency and Logical reasoning bits. And I wonder at times what people read when they get mails. A mail is sent out to you asking you to bring your WAEC certificate right? You claim you don’t have a WAEC certificate so you bring your NECO certificate. However, the mail specified WAEC and you didn’t bother contacting the person who sent you the mail informing him/her that you had no WAEC certificate? Do we bother paying attention to things? Even the little things? Plus I don’t believe the “I don’t have a WAEC certificate story”. I believe if you did Secondary School in Nigeria, it is compulsory you write WAEC right? So how come you don’t have a WAEC certificate? Maybe it is just me sha.

In other news, I am no longer engaged neither am I married yet. Go figure. Not kissing, not telling. Case closed. Lips sealed. Loools. Don’t ask, won’t say.

I wonder why guys think once they see a female she has no idea how to operate a system nonetheless any other gadget. I was at the office yesterday and I ask the guy with the only system with internet connectivity if I could use the PC. Dude decides to take me through how to send a mail. Yes you heard me. A MAIL. How to use webmail o. I was almost going to tell him “dude, aint nobody got time for that. I used webmail for 3 freaking years and would bloody teach you how to use a PC cause you don’t”. Today nko, I wanted to turn off the central speaker and all and he starts telling me “this is how you turn off an ipod”. Emi? Proud owner of an ipod, iphone and ipad. Ish… Yes I got Apple bragging rights. Next is a mac book. Am badt like that.

Stumbled on these pictures on instagram.

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Uhmmm if the colour pictures is true (which is though), I should have come as a guy. I no sabi all the tangerine and royal purple and all those colours you women say. Green is green. Blue is blue. I remember buying a shoe online. The colour? Petrol blue. Got me interested and decided to buy. When the shoe came, it was every shade of dark green. Nothing blue in it at all. *smh*. Or buying similar shades of shoes from three different stores. It was called stone in Dorothy Perkins, nude in Next and some other funny name in Newlook.

Anything till further notice in this post is my alter ego talking. Being single is wack ba? Ehn if you know who you want to be with, go and be with him/her na. Is it that hard? If you are a guy and and you like a babe, ask the geh na? Hian. Stop whining. Be a man. And if you are the babe, ask him out. Kapish. Ok. alter ego has logged out.

Finally. Whew you say ba? Na you sabi. Those who know me, know I love parties. Or better still, I love organizing parties. Especially weddings and all the parties before weddings. So you find me tweeting and liking anything that has to do weddings. My alter ego also plans weddings. Well, of all the pre wedding ish, I love bridal showers most and I have helped organize a couple and would def be organizing more. I really believe every woman deserves to have a lovely bridal shower. Like seriously beautiful shower. Like Ike (showerella) would say, “life is too short for boring parties”. So hopefully, my next post would be an article on showerella. Do yourself (and me) a favour and visit http://www.showerella.com, follow showerella on twitter, be friends on facebook (abi na like?), find her on pinterest and promote my sister’s business. By the way, my alter ego also has a bridal shower company where we stock party favours and help you organize your party. So bridesmaids, friends, maids of honour, sisters, sisters-in-law (you all know yourselves jo), contact my alter ego.

Ok final final, last one, please na. Last one. I have found someone with a “worse” surname. Worse in quotes o. I have a last name which is very feminine. So when people ask my name, I get questions like “which one is the name, which one is the surname”? Or they just shorten my surname assuming that is my first name. Well I met a Damola Detola (I sincerely hope she doesn’t see this because me I would deny). Figure out which is the first name and which is the last.

Sidenote: make una help me beg SingleNigerianMan to be my bff jare. He said he can’t be my bff. He doesn’t do fine gehs. Please help me tell him I AM NOT FINE na.

Tada

All you women, there is a school you all attend…..

A friend’s friend made this statement a couple of weeks back that got me thinking. Met him at L’s office and we got talking. Somehow we ended up talking about his family and he started talking about how he doesn’t take his wife out on dates any more. I was appalled at first then he explained. He said whenever they go out, she always picks the most expensive food on the menu (even when he has informed her before hand say he no get moni) and would end up not finishing it or making statement like “it was just there”, “I didn’t enjoy it”. Trust, after it happened a number of times, he stopped taking her out except on her birthday. And he would have ordered the meal before they get there. That got me thinking. What is it about us females that when we are in a relationship or married, we believe all our bukata (needs) must be met by the man? We believe it is our duty to spend all the man’s money. After all it is his money abi na our money. But most of us would rather keep ours.

I remember listening in on radio some years ago. A kiss and make up program and this dude calls in to ask them to beg his wife. What was his offence? He usually fuels his wife’s car. She comes that morning to ask for money to get fuel and he asked her to use her money. And the woman vex. I wondered why she felt she had a right to the man’s money. Common sense told me immediately (though the man said he was joking when he said she should use her money) that the man must have had a reason to ask her to use her money. The reason whether he was joking or he seriously didn’t have money she never bothered to find out. She got angry and left the house immediately. I just smiled to myself that day and thought “she is even lucky she has someone to ask”. Some women don’t have husbands to ask of. She is lucky she even had someone who fuelled her car. A lot of women don’t dare even ask for owo obe from their husbands. I recounted that incident and that is what led to L’s friend making the comment about women going to a particular school where they teach us how to suck men dry. All we do is ask and ask and want to spend and spend and spend the man’s money. While “saving” (for want of a better word) ours. His money is OUR money, my money is MY money. I can spend his but he can’t spend mine.

Earlier today, I was also chatting with a friend and he sent me some message I guess a female friend sent to him. Paraphrased, the lady said it is the duty of the man to support the family (very right) BUT it isn’t compulsory for her to help him support the home. She said his money should be used to determine the standing of the family and not hers. My reply to him was I agree to an extent with her statements. It is a man’s sole responsibility to provide for his home. Even the Bible tells us a man who can’t do that is worse than an infidel. HOWEVER, the woman is the helper. It is compulsory for her to do her part in supporting the man every way she can none the least, financially. While in the olden days, it might have been easier for the man to be the sole provider, the way things are right now, the man cannot and shouldn’t be left alone to take care of all the responsibilities. You should be able to cover each other. If he doesn’t have and you do, there is nothing stopping you from taking up that responsibility even if it means you collect the money later (directly or indirectly). Regarding whether his money should be used to determine the standing of the family, I also agree. I did suggest though that rather than it being his money (which for most women is our money), a joint account would be a good idea. That way it is a clear cut case of our money determining the standing of the family. I believe in marriage, there shouldn’t be his money, her money. It should be our money.

I do realize that while it is easy to type our money, actually doing it might be hard. That is why I am a believer in having one or two joint accounts. Both parties put in a certain amount each month depending on their pay and payment of bills, vacation and other bukata can be paid for from there. That frees up the rest of each person’s income for personal things. I know a number of men who say they can never give their wives their debit or credit card. If she lays her hands on it, it would come back empty. Haba. Kilode? And these wives are equally employed and well paid o.

Later this evening, went on instagram and saw someone put up a picture (see below).

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I have come to realize that for a lot of females in relationships, we have turned the guy into our money market fund (except this time, we don’t wanna pay back what we have collected and def not with interest). I need, I want, Can I have. Most times asking for things we can’t even afford ourselves and maybe even know the guy can’t afford at that moment. Even if he can afford everything sef, haba, cool down na. I grew up never accepting something from a guy I can’t give back  or afford if things go the other way. In fact I remember keeping a gift for over a year once because it was pretty expensive and I didn’t want a situation where we stopped talking and things hit the roof and I start hearing stories. What I can’t afford or give, I don’t accept. Frankly, he is your husband, he is your boyfriend, he is your fiance not your BANK. Seriously, let’s pity these men and not allow them label all of us. Little wonder why a lot of men believe all women are materialistic and can be bought. Just drop money, buy gifts, o pari. She would trip. Whatever happened to self worth and respect?

Back to L’s friend. After I had tried defending my people, he ends with “let’s see what happens when you get married”. Now am scared. Is there a school I am not aware of, that once I get married, I start exhibiting characters associated with those who attended this school?

What shall we call this?

Sorry. Was trying to translate Yoruba to English and the title is what I could come up with that made sense in my head. The Yoruba is something like “Ki la ti ma so oro e yi se or bawo la ti ma soro yi si” or something of that sort. My Yoruba isn’t smooth. Never mind that I had a B3 in Yoruba. My parents believe WAEC dashed me the result.

Anyways, back to the post.

An aunty-in-law is in town. As per no job, she decided I was going to be her driver for the day. Can’t complain. At least I have somewhere to go and someone to gist with. Anywayz, we were gisting and she suddenly goes quiet and looked mad. She got a message. Calls my uncle and the gbeborun in me was straining to hear the conversation then my mum called (just spoilt all my gbeborun runz). Call ends and she is still looking mad. And am like “whaow, whatever this is, I don’t envy the person”. Then she starts to spill.

Her cousin Z lives in the UK with her husband and 2 kids. Z’s mum (her aunty) is in town. Z’s mum had for some days been calling my uncle’s line but since it was not a stored number he didn’t pick. Finally felt led to pick the call about 3 days ago and discovered it was Z’s mum (she isn’t educated). Mama what is the matter? Then she starts her story. Z isn’t feeding her. She has been eating apple she saw in the kitchen for some days. Z always abuses her. Z refused to help her turn on the heater in her room. Z threatened to throw her out in the cold. And on and on and on.

I opened my mouth and couldn’t shut it for a while. Who does that to her mum? Then my aunty goes on to tell me stories about how this woman slaved for her children, 5 of them when their father left. Even when Z and her husband were out of job and money was tight, the woman sent money to them, over a million naira (for someone who has a small shop, I can imagine how long she had to save to make that money), has for the past few years been paying for Z and her family’s trips to Nigeria and all and all. Whether the woman even did that or not isn’t the issue. Seriously, who treats their parents like that?

We tried to think of all sorts of reasons why Z is behaving this way. Ranging from maybe the woman said something and Z got angry to what Yoruba’s call asasi (spell abi na curse). Then my AIL said over the years, Z’s husband always complained about how Z treated his mum and they always thought the husband just wanted to be funny (cuz my AIL said the man too get skon skon). To the extent that Z’s MIL one day abused and cursed her. The MIL is dead now and is going to be buried next week. We then concluded it had to be adi (Yoruba people please help me interpret what that is. Biko).

Makes we wonder why people start acting funny to their parents as they grow older. I get that as our parents get older, they start to do things that might irritate us and get on our nerves. Their body parts aint functioning as it used to. BUT still, is that enough reason to treat them anyhow?

I have seen it over and over again. People maltreating their sick parents. In fact in most cases, the parent dies within 2 years of the illness. And I wonder if the children had been a little bit caring, would the parent have died? Well my AIL was still seething as at when I dropped her at home and was about calling Z to give her a piece of her mind. The gbeborun in me is waiting for tomorrow to know how that went.

Side note: There was something else I wanted to blog about but can’t remember. *sigh*. Old age yeah. Anywayz, tis December. Christmas is coming. All I want for Christmas is…………………………………………………..

Ok, yeah I remember now. Just wanted to share something my Pastor preached about some weeks back. Just part of the message. He was talking about Samson and got to the issue of people drinking wine and other alcoholic drinks and the whole “the Bible doesn’t say we shouldn’t drink/ should Christians drink issue”. He said something that stayed with me that day. The Spirit and spirit can’t stay together. He then asked “have you ever noticed that those God has special work for in the Bible, He specifically asked them to stay off wine?” E.g. Samson, Samuel, John the Baptist. The instruction was direct. Stay off wine.

Wishing you all a great month of signs and wonders. Have a blessed December and we shall all make it to 2013.

Birthday party

Yipeeeee

Thanks to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. E se pupo. Thank you very much. God bless

I had so much fun over the weekend till yesterday itself. With the sisters in town since Friday, it was party, going out and all all weekend. Then the grand finale (lols) yesterday. For those who remember I LOVE CAKES, I am very very very very very grateful.

1/4 done.

The cakes at the party over the weekend

My birthday gift from me to me. Would upload the picture of the dress I got me if I can later. But am so rocking these mustard/yellow heels.

Cupcakes at yesterday’s party

At the party on Saturday

Cake from my cousin yesterday.

Didn’t take pictures yesterday though. Yeah.

I had so much fun and I think this is my bestest birthday ever. Friends, family, crushes (oh yes, my cousin came home with one of my Uni crushes yesterday. Heart skipped a bit). Twas just fun allllllllllll the way.

Finally wrote the end on a chapter of my life yesterday and shut the book. Something that had “weighed” me down for months and most especially in the last couple of weeks. Finally had to let it go yesterday as I wasn’t the only one getting disappointed no longer. Even my younger sister was getting disappointed and upset for me. Enough of the disappointments and heart aches. Still get sad and all BUT I know it is for the better. Sure I would write about it at some point in the future. But really feels good not to be disappointed.

People keep asking me how it feels to be 2* years (am sure by now some people have already figured it out). Seriously I don’t know. How am I meant to feel? And for those who have been praying twins and triplets into my future, God sees you and knows your addresses o. I no do o.

Do have a lovely day people.

Tada

Life in the UK

I dunno what the title of this post should be. Am sure before am done, I would figure out a title.

Ok, I didn’t post for about two months so trying to make up for that especially since I no get work. Have to find any and everything to get me out of the house now, before I lose my mind. Feels strange to just be home doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. Except shop for my sisters. Thank God for them. There were times I almost could beg them not to ask me to shop for them but at the moment? Am glad I had something to do, even if it means shopping. It is as bad or is it as good as me saying thank you to them for going to shop for them. Don’t get me wrong, I do like shopping but at my own convenience and most times online as I would most likely get what I want than get into the store and discover they don’t have in store and save myself hours of walking round malls. It is that bad/good. Bored out of my mind and am just counting days at the moment. Well, since I no get job, I thought I should blog about the last abi na past one year. English is getting hard mehn. Ok, back to the post. What did I say I wanted to blog about again? Yes. Schooling here.

I have lived all my life in Nigeria. 20 something plus years and schooled in Ibadan and Ilishan, lived in Ibadan and Lagos and asides trips to the UK and Ghana, I can’t remember travelling anywhere else. None the least, not for this long. Maximiun 2 weeks. So it was a whole new experience coming here to school. Can you blame me? From Taiwo’s playgroup to Staff School to ISI to Babcock. A bitter-sweet experience though. This would be the first time I would be leaving home literally. And be alone. So I thought sha. In the bid to form Miss Independent, I found a school in a city I thought I knew no one. Only for me to pay my fees and an uncle goes “you know XYZ, ABC and DKM live there?” 3 of my mum’s cousins (all sisters). Whew. So much for running from family. Ok, not running in that sense. I am just not the keeping in touch, family family, calling, texting, visiting person. Plus I always feel I might be inconveniencing people. So I would rather just keep off. Then to make matters worse, mumsie decided to follow me. *side eye*. I become the source of jokes for my friends and uncles. The one whose mum came with her. So much for forming Miss Independent. Strike one.

Landed o and found out that not only does mumsie have cousins here, popsie too get them plenty, family friends friends (figure that out) I didn’t even know about and they all just kept calling. Like someone called them and told them I was in town. Now I had no choice than to keep in touch with people even if na to dey text. Even the ones living outside Manchester. Well, I guess it made me a better person. At least the fear of calling my aunty or mum or grandma and they ask after LMN and I don’t have an answer made me keep in touch. And it was fun sha. At least I knew I couldn’t go hungry even if I tried. Especially during exams. And I had fun babysitting though for the love of God, 2 kids maximum. Chasing my aunty’s brood wasn’t an easy something especially on days when they are just ready for you. Threatening to report them to their dad worked sha. Got them quiet for a while.

I met a lot of interesting people. Interesting on both sides, good and bad interesting. Funny characters. Some I blogged about. And really nice people. Like a senior of mine at school I met on the bus, funny am sure he doesn’t remember but he dropped me and my bestie off (well with her elder brother; his friend) for our graduating class dinner at ISI. And some other really nice people from church and in class. And some very annoying and irritating characters, mostly Nigerians. Horrible, horrible people. They had me on the verge of pulling my hair out on some days. As in if na my natural hair dey my head on those days am sure I would have. Or maybe hit my head on the wall.

Attended a very lovely church. I dunno why people always complained about “white churches”. What exactly is a “white church” sef? If anything, asides the people I met here and school, I am so gonna miss church. This post seems pretty disjointed ba? No flow? I dunno. Just writing as it came to mind biko. The effect of boredom. I should/would post more on my experiences as time goes on.

Tada

Oh, haven’t found a title yet. Guess my experience would do or something of that sort, since more stories would come.

Tada once again.

Birthday series (3)

Stayed up late to put this up and almost forgot to. Was about turning off my PC. *sigh*

Entering 100 level, I was between 50 and 52kg and giving my mum serious headache. I had dropped to about 46kg at some point before then and started picking up. So somehow I think she just had a plan to feed me till I got fat. My birthday was a day after my Matric. She had bought enough food instead of listening to my suggestion that she shouldn’t bring food. Ate full breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner and still had enough to give out. Went home on my birthday (which was a Friday) and popsie decides we eat out. *bbm smile smiley*. See me grinning…. Knowing BU, going back to school on Sunday, mumsie packs food to feed my whole block again… Ok, I exaggerated. To feed my room again.

She won…. Got back home about 3 weeks after and was weighing almost 60kg. She saw me and smiled. Unfortunately for her, I did lose all that weight again before my 4 years was up and haven’t quite been able to reach 60kg again.

Then 200 level. I think that was my best birthday ever. It was a Saturday… I didn’t pay for lunch so as it was Sabbath, and it was my birthday, my roommates decided they all collected their food and we share. On our way to cafe, mumsie calls that she is coming to school and I thought, ok she would bring small food. So I asked my roommates to still collect their food. We do that for lunch and whatever mumsie brings for dinner. I was so wrong. We had barely gotten back to our room when she called that she was downstairs and I should call some of my roommates to help me bring coolers upstairs. WHAT!!! Got downstairs and saw orisisrisi rice; jollof rice, fried rice, pounded yam, efo elegusi and ila alasepo (God bless my grandma), and a cooler of drinks and cake. I wanted to run mad.

Had 2 Osun roommates and an Ondo (well, her mum is Ondo) roommate. You should see my room that afternoon. My roommates went round our block looking for those who didn’t have food for lunch so they could give out their lunch… as there was better lunch in the room. We ate and had extra even after doing dinner. Trust, we settled down with the pounded yam first (so it didn’t spoil), gave out much of the fried rice and ate jollof rice for dinner.

And you should hear my roommates pray for my mum. It was just funny. BU suffered us small sha… Chai…

300 level was a Sunday. Trust, my roommates were waiting expectantly and mumsie didn’t disappoint.

400 level, Monday, though mumsie couldn’t bring food (they refused to let her take her leave for like 2 years; kept saying change in oga yada yada), she sent money, had some friends over for lunch at guest cafe and and somehow my aunty ended up sending cake and drinks. So that night again, it was drinks a plenty.

Then I entered the league of those who invited friends out for dinner. Had a mild 21st @ Soul Lounge. About 25 guests with bouncers. Seriously. Though I didn’t pay for them. A friend organized them and they did bounce people. Had a milder party the next year. Had a big headache trying to get a place and since I was seriously craving pizza then decided to do Debonairs. Booked the place o. Then get a call some 3 days before. FG declared that day as Public Holiday and they usually get so many customers on such days, they can’t afford to keep space for me and yada yada. So party shifted to Cactus… Much cooler location… Pizza not as fantastic but I had fun all the same. I remember being giving an ultimatum that I must not celebrate my next birthday without a boyfriend. *sigh*.

Last year was a time for me and God. People were so on my case expecting another party but alas, it wasn’t going to happen. Decided to spend it in God’s presence instead. And I did have fun from YB calling me that morning to sing for me *muah*, he did try to be the first caller that morning but someone else was faster; I just had fun all day without having a party. Ok, well I had a “Private Party” me, myself and I; played that song all day long thanks to YB… And got cakes ehn…. Not had that much cake on my birthday since my 10th. From work, my aunty, and YB… Ended the day in a vigil… and went to the cinema the next day with my immediate younger sister (don’t mind me, have 2 of them after me so 1 is immediate younger sister and the baby is my kid sister).

And so that ends my birthday series.

Not sure what this year would be like…. Might put up something later that day sha.

Tada

Birthday Series (2)

My birthdays in Primary School were fun. Never during exams. Secondary School? Heck no. Always during exams. Even if it was a weekend, I sure had a paper the day the Monday after.

So didn’t do much celebrating. First, the era of going to school in mufti on my birthday was so OVER. Gosh, how would a chic like me do such? That’s so childish.

JSS1, I had like 3 papers that day. Think it was the first day of exams sef so omo, nobody send me o. Called some friends together after sha and shared the cake I brought to school. And drinks.

The JSS2. I think that’s one birthday I always want to forget. My mum always took her annual leave November/December and with all the holidays in between, resumed in January. For some strange reason I assumed it was because of me she took her leave then.

So JSS2, my birthday is a Friday and all through I was thinking she would ask me to invite friends over. Especially considering that the year before, she practically forgot it was my birthday till my father reminded her (by buying my cake *smh*). In my mind, I thought she would make it up to me but alas, she “didn’t”.

Monday, she didn’t say nada. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday morning, nothing. So I go to school as usual, already asked a friend to bake for me and shared the cake with my friends. School closed 12.30 on Fridays. 1pm, mumsie is nowhere to be found. 2pm. 3pm. 4pm. On my birthday, am still in School. Ok o. School was practically empty by then except for a few seniors and some of us juniors (my elder sister and I inclusive and some classmate of mine and his girlfriend who was my sister’s classmate; who was the basis of the gist I got to school on Monday morning to hear). Story for another time.

Mumsie finally shows up at about 5pm and starts apologizing about being called to work (remember she was on leave) for some meeting and goes on about telling someone to make food and she had to buy chicken, she didn’t know the meeting would take that long and on and on… Me, I was just fuming. And she ends with “shey your friends are coming?” Ha! I told her no o and she is like why? Told her I didn’t invite them na, how would I invite people and there won’t be food for them to eat. If she could slap me that day, she would have. So she starts going on and on about what kind of mother I thought she was; even if she didn’t ask me to invite people, did I think my friends would come and they won’t have food to eat? Well, it was too late to invite people. Fortunately, this family friend of mine was in the car. He came over with a couple of other friends and well, they all packed food home o…

As Ayefele said, they ate till they were full and had enough to take away. Then mumsie started packing food for neighbours and other family friends. And made me go with a cousin to drop the food at each person’s house and explain that it was my birthday and I brought food for them. *sigh*. Like that wasn’t enough, I get to school on Monday to hear stories.

JSS3. Same thing. Twas a Saturday or Sunday. One of those days sha. And omo, the house was full. Couldn’t read and I had exams, so quickly packed my load to our Ghanaian hairdresser’s house. Her husband is a teacher and they had this place in their house you could read. No distractions. You people can like to enjoy yourselves ehn. Me, I no dey dia.

SS1. The days of Further Maths and Yoruba exams on the same day. My friends FORGOT… yes.. they forgot my birthday (years after am still very burnt they forgot). All because we had 2 major papers on the same day… (Yoruba was a major paper for most of us o… never mind that most of us were Yorubas; didn’t matter). Not even Happy Birthday dropped from their mouths that morning. After exams nko? Mba. Nofin. Then the day after I start hearing Happy Birthday in arrears. Sorry, we didn’t remember cause of the exams. I made a promise to myself that day to forget each and everyone’s birthday for the next year. Sadly I couldn’t. Got a gift though from one of them after and still have it with me 9 years after. A keyholder with my name on it. Have guarded it with my life. Lol.

SS2 and SS3. No party too. Exams overshadowed my birthday. My friends had no choice than to remember sha….

Then came Uni… Or College….