Towards the end of June this year, being of troubled mind and weary body, I decided to take a trip home to draw strength from the soil in which my umbilical cord is buried, so to speak. And so I set off home. For those who don’t know, “home” for me is Jos; since it is the city of my birth and the bulk of my life adventures. The journey was a long and bumpy road trip filled with self-doubt, a stressed bladder and drowsiness. Eventually I was welcomed into the bosom of my family with no mishaps. The process of drawing strength consisted, for the most part, of me moping around my sister’s house, eating, watching TV and coercing her children into playing with me every now and again. Continue reading “Calming my Restless Heart, or Something Similar”
It was years ago when I realized I probably wouldn’t do very well in the “landing men who take me seriously” department. The year was maybe 2006, I was still mop-skinny; thin body, big head. To make things worse I actually had on this weave at that time which had been put together by a hairdresser who maybe was a carpenter in her previous life… Anyway, the weave made my head look much bigger, is the point I’m trying to make. Continue reading “Pepper”
The stereotype is that all married women have to watch their single friends for fear they’ll try to snatch their husbands. The belief is that us single girls are mortally envious of the “luck” our married friends have, and will do anything to make that luck ours.
In actual fact, mami, I’m the one pulling up tired excuses to avoid being around you and your darling hubby. I always knew he was a wild one but he made you happy and i figured marriage would calm him down some. Continue reading “Dear BFF”
I flash back quickly to that day.
We had gone on a road trip, and ended up in a little hotel in a quiet area, small city on the outskirts of a big town. The heat was doing our heads in and the constant airconditioning provided by the hotel was pure bliss. Nothing like vaseline, or body lotion of any kind had touched my skin in weeks. But of course, such skin-peace was ill-fated; soon I began to feel dried out, and it was embarassing going out because I had only packed short things but those short things showed off my white, scaly skin.
He woke me up one morning and asked if I wanted to come run errands with him. I said no, because 7am was an ungodly hour for me on holiday. So I slept, stretched languidly across the crisp white sheets, rolling cat-like from time to time, flirting with the idea of waking up, but never quite sealing the deal. Some minutes before 11 I decided I was ripe enough for a bath, and unhurriedly went about cleaning myself. When I was done, I made the bed because I could already hear him say, when he would eventually come back, “You can’t make bed?” and I chuckled a little because I already knew him that well. I settled in to watch Big Bang Theory, and was laughing softly when his call came in. How was I doing, what should he bring back to our lair for my breakfast, small talk. Looking down at my reptilian skin later, I texted him to buy me a little tub of vaseline, and even after I pleaded and he argued that he wouldn’t just randomly come across vaseline sellers where he was, we sort of left the topic open-ended.
I threatened him with the classic, “You think you are doing me, you are doing yourself because when we go out I’ll embarrass you with my whiteness” and I smiled as I typed that, because I wished we were in the same place so I could watch him laugh, and soak up the twinkle in his eyes until it passed…
He came back bearing food, which was great enough. Until he pulled out a tiny tub of vaseline. It was a brand I hated, but I really hadn’t expected him to buy any at all. I jumped up and down in excitement, pinned him to the wall and made kissy faces at him while he tried to push me off.
“Are you this cheap, you shoulda just told me all it took is vaseline. Jeez, I wouldn’t have wasted all this time and effort.”
I come back from my reverie and focus my gaze on the tub of vaseline. I’d thrown it in a seldomly used handbag, and there it was…
And I guess, really, I miss you.
Frank rushed into Ola Mummy canteen in Bodija, hungry as an abandoned baby elephant, and made his order of two wraps of pounded yam, fish and ewedu. So hungry was he that it wasn’t until he’d swallowed the first wrap that his eyes came down, and he could once again see like normal humans do. It was at this point he decided to slow down so he wouldn’t choke. He took his first sip from the 75cl Eva table water bottle the waitress with the blue Staff 24 tshirt had placed before him, and looked around for the first time whilst tenderly unwrapping the second half of his meal.
That was when he saw her. Continue reading “The Way You Chew”
I decided to clean out an old box of my stuff, you know, burn what I don’t need and look for somewhere better to store the other things.
I found a little plastic bag of photographs, and promptly dropped my good intentions. I spent almost an hour sitting right in the middle of the rubble, giggling at how skinny I was in the photos, and remembering what led up to each of them. Then I saw some pictures of you.
Back when we were dating.
I think I froze for a short while, because… I don’t know, I just froze. And then I began to remember everything. Continue reading “Ex”
Anything to make you happy.
I know you mean well.
A place in your life.
You want to be
Continue reading “Promises”
Imagine, if you will, a couple of young lovers, separated by distance for, oh, let’s say eight months. Why eight? Well, it’s a long enough time to go without being face to face with one you love and have come to depend upon. So, eight months down the line, eight months of surviving on dodgy Skype (they are Nigerians, one of them is in Nigeria, and our network always sucks), crackly calls and slow-delivering Whatsapp messages, the guy decides to surprise her and comes back unannounced. He calls her with a private number and idly asks where she is and what she’s going to be doing that day. Now when he gets the info he’s looking for, namely her location, Oga storms the place like a boss and calmly calls out to her. Being that he’s quite literally the last person she is expecting to see, she freezes there for a few seconds, assuming the shape of praying mantis interrupted during a feed.
Then she shrieks and flies into his arms, giving into the unbridled joy that lifts her off her feet and aims her legs towards Oga’s waist, where the said appendages fully intend to wrap themselves.
Continue reading “Size Matters”
Dusty breeze and light.
You were fussing again,
Putting me through unjust strain.
Later, we sat in class,
All so carefree… but alas!
Continue reading “Undue Harvest”
First off, pardon my French. I mean the title in THE most literal way.
Now, I’ve always loved Marian Keyes for being an honest, down to earth and REAL writer. Of course, it helps immensely that she’s got a great sense of humor as well. Anyways, I remember how she talked about guys and their need to beg, negotiate and struggle for sex from a woman simply because she’s there. There’s the slightest possibility that they’ll get lucky, so they absolutely MUST make the best of it.
She went so far as to say that she has a very visible penis-shaped indentation in the small of her back from all the times she’s had to ward off randy guys. When I read this all those years ago, I laughed. Now I don’t think it’s so funny anymore 😐
Lemme paint you a scenario or two.
You go out with a guy, and either have to spend the night at his, or he at yours. Ok. Fine. You are both adults and he has given his word. You won’t even know he’s there, on his honour. So sleeping positions are assumed, all proper and correct, if you please. You on the bed and he on the couch/ floor/ leaning against the wall / in the neighbour’s garage five miles away. You are relaxed, poor simple creature that you are, and the sleep comes swiftly and intensely.
At some point, you awaken groggily, feeling the way Jonah must have felt going down the gullet of the whale; constricted and… ah-ahn, where did all your personal space go?! You drowsily realize that oga has speed walked five miles and is trying to get you to show how much you missed him. The battle is twofold. On the one hand, you’re just an innocent sleepy girl who suddenly has to give up that dream about kissing Lynxxx and wake the hell up. While doing all this, you’re faced with shaking off boda Kola as permanently as possible.
Now I’m reminded of that vlog post by Toke Makinwa (I don’t know her new, secret surname) . It was called Just The Tip and was really entertaining, but held so many truths. It is at this point that you’ll hear wonders:
“Baby, I don’t really want to have sex with you, I just want to feel your warmth“
“Honestly, I won’t move at all. Lemme just put it inside only”
What makes it worse is the realization that he believes his own lies and is totally focused on achieving his dreams. No amount of firm “No” and “Stop!” seems to pierce through the thick blue konji haze he’s enshrouded in. A part of your brain wanders off as you struggle to pry his hands off you. All you can think of are the daftest things.
– Why didn’t you start working out? If you had, you wouldn’t be panting by now. You’d be stronger, better equipped to fling this guy into the far wall.
– You wonder how far this will go, and the headlines flash before your eyes. Girl, 25, Raped to Death. “I Told Him to Stop!” – Rape Victim. It Was Self Defence, I Don’t Regret It.
– Your mom’s face flashes before your eyes screeching stuff like, ” You see?! And I warned her o!”
– You stifle the urge to yawn and scratch your belly. It’s like hunger has set in, sef. Maybe a little j-rice when this is over? With lots of onions and some sexy, golden dodo on the side?
Another scenario is:
True to his word, Man Friday remains a loyal and honourable companion through the night. But when joy (morning wood) comes in the morning, as it is want to, out roars the Incredible Hulk. Scroll back up to see how things play out.
Now, IT IS A LIE if you say you’re a girl over twenty and this has never happened to you, at least to some small degree. All I can say is, pay extra attention to all those kungfu movies ‘cos those fancy hand chop movements could save you some day.
And guys? Sigh. Dear, dear guys. When will the majority of you start having sense?
I manage to drag myself out of bed about 30 minutes after turning off the annoying alarm. As my feet make contact with the cold floor, I say a few words of prayer.
-I am alive yet again. Grumpy, lazy, sleepy as hell, but alive.
Stumbling through my scattered flat, I stand at the kitchen door for a while to have a stare down with last night’s dishes swimming quietly in the sink. After taking several factors into consideration, (I’m running late and it’s a cold morning), I eye the dishes one last time and let them win, walking away. The house will look terrible when I get back home tonight, but my laziness will be the sole cause of that.
Continue reading “Glass Half Full”