Thursday, October 1, 2009


I should begin by listing all the people i blame. i'll start with ASUU for their silly strike action. Not that i'm complaining much but, what's the game plan now huh? The last i heard of the president, he was in Saudi Arabia having lunch with the king .
News flash; He doesn't care, what u gonna do now huh?
Anyways, i should be happy, while my mates are sweating out, waiting for ASUU to call off the strike, i'm supposedly having fun all the way across the world in God's own country(what they call it anyway) And from the day i've left the shores of my beloved naija, it seems i've left with thousands of ill will and jealousy of my fellow students who have nowhere but school to sweat out the wait. Seriously, one came out and said it 'Asuu would soon call off this strike, i promise' Not on ur life sweetie, at least not until i'm done with my break. i talked to God about this!

So, it seems i've been cursed by these so called friends because i seem to encounter the bad side of every black person i meet and i'm not kidding.
It started with the girl i sat with on my stopover to London. she got the window seat, i got the aisle. 'Please stand up' she says. she wants to pick some things in her luggage before stowing it. I smile and say okay. she sits and keeps her heavier handbag on the empty middle seat. i hate aisle, especially the tall white guy who hits me while stumbling to the bathroom. So, i explain why she should move her bag so i can sit in the middle seat.
'But i want to put my bag on the seat.'
'no, you're supposed to put it under your seat.' We go on and on but its no use reasoning with her so i keep quiet. 'You're angry' she says. Genius! i'm thinking. Then she goes on and on about why i should remain on my seat while her bag gets the middle seat until take off. ' I'll carry it when the plane takes off' she says and i smile tightly.
Naturally, after take off i decided to stick to my own seat and so began our word banter.' you're angry' 'no, i'm not'. we finally decided none of us was angry. one hour into the flight, she offered me Chewing gum. i smile as usual and say thank you even though in my head i'm thinking. Did that heifer just offer me gum?It took a nasty foul mouthed black girl and a short sad black man with a hate towards all 'green card carrying immigrants' [his exact words] for me to discover the chewing gum girl was by far the nicest. which is why i laugh ironically when i see the 'God's own country slogan' on a one dollar bill.Hah hah!
And here's wishing a very happy 49th birthday to my birthday mate and country, NIGERIA. I really miss you and hope you get better soon, this generation preferably!

Monday, August 17, 2009

Of pain or cheating.

After being photographically anonymous on facebook for about six months, i finally gather the courage to upload my picture and thus begins the legend of the one who like me!
Thursday; i chat with this guy who saw me on flixster, decided my name sounded funny and added me as a friend.I thought he was boring at first and almost ditched him but somehow we ended up on messenger.
P.S; He gave me his number, told him i''d call. i may
Friday; He sends me a message.' i don't bite, call me' I smile and text him back. i check his profile, I'm 'good friends' on his movie compatibility.
Saturday; i spent learning how to swim[i'm still scared of drowning]. Met my primary school classmate on facebook. it's been twelve years he says. i know. We have a funny history together. i can't help laughing as i remember.
Sunday; i decide to call. Cowardly me, hides my number to be sure he's not a crazy. Nice voice, doesnt séem schizophrenic even if weird. He has my taste in books and movies, we flow well. he asks for my number. I'm thinking about it, I say.
Monday; My poor boyfriend has been on call for two days, calls me in the afternoon.'Thanks for calling'he says though he's teasing but i'm acting all guilty and i tell him jokingly about my new boyfriend on facebook. He laughs through the phone. 'Tell him my boys will arrange him' He says and i laugh. i wonder if he believes me or doesn't care. sometimes, i hate that he doesn't get jealous, I wonder what he'd say if he knows i'm single on facebook!
Now there are two thoughts in my head. Change my single status to 'In a relationship' But, i really hate boxes OR
it's just harmless flirting, i'm networking. really!
Then two counter thoughts.1] If i do change my relationship status,then i run the risk of perpetually changing status for each subsequent breakup.But flirting is never static but dynamic and i actually love boyfy.
So, i read somewhere the definition of being unfaithful and it says that being unfaithful is the act of engaging in sexual relations with someone other than your regular partner OR thoughts of engaging in sexual relations with someone other than your partner. Technically, this means that cheating is an actual or potential act of unfaithfulness which is similar to 'pain' a response to actual or potential tissue damage .
Newton's first law states that for every action, there's an equal and opposite force of reaction
Hence Flirting->p unfaithfulness->p heart break. Where p= constant pain.
But would it count that i'm not actually sleeping or thinking of sleeping with anyone? i guess not. In the world of maths, you're either A or B. And where do i fall? still trying to figure it out.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009


Some how i have been unable to write these past days
Somehow, it's not all my fault
i have been a sporadic blogger, i admit.
To my new blog followers, thank you.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Just random.

My greatest fear, Hell. There was a time i'd think about it all day, i was so young yet at that time i was wiser . All day long, i'd sit thinking of where my life was going, would i ever grow up or would i die young? I remember praying i'd die young as my teacher said all kids would go to heaven. Needless to say, that didn't work out.
I grew up surrounded by maids so many i cannot recall all, but i do remember Aunty Ayi. She was a fulani girl with pretty long hair.I remember her teaching me songs in a language i couldn't comprehend and she'd tell me stories, always of the wicked stepmother and the orphaned child. They always had a similar ending, usually in the theme of justice served and labour rewarded. Still, i was wise enough even at that age to know that life never always was fair.

At 12, i made my closest friend ever in our maid called Mariam. I was home for the the third term vacation all thin and gangly, happy to be home from the school cum slavecamp and there she was. Mariam was as weird as she was beautiful. Boy! did she have a lot of tales to tell. She told me of her dead twin to whom she talked to on a daily basis.That got me,I'm a scarredy cat!

We'd be gisting and suddenly she'd say something like.'Do you know Taiwo is sitting here right now?' i'd freeze and go running like my pant's on fire.The wicked girl would just laugh. 'she won't hurt you.'. One day, we had a terrible fight and i made her cry[i was a precocious child] i should have been satisfied but that night i couldn't sleep. Some hours to my bed time, the 'were' girl was holding a monologue on how 'some people' were in so much trouble they wouldn't get any sleep at all. I was so scared of the ghost that i swallowed my pride and had to apologise. She said i was lucky i did, because her twin had been planning to visit me that night.'AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH' I spent about an hour apologising to the girl and the invisible twin. And though i liked her, i was not sorry to see her leave after a one year stay. It gave me a life decision. I would never employ a stay at home maid.
Mariam was the first to give me a lecture on hell, she'd speak of judgement day and tell me of visions of hell her twin sister saw daily. I remember her speak of tongues nailed to trees, snakes and scorpions amidst fires burning ceaselessly.Even my Alfa was not as vivid as Mariam was, though i guess she'd have made all the children cry.
I used
to be so scared of death, what would happen if this life was snuffed? would i be as stone or sand or just hovering, still conscious yet not dead. It took years of learning and a simple sentence to cure me 'You shouldn't be scared of death, fear hell whose fuel is men and stones.'
I used to wonder on atheism. Could all this be by chance, or nature. That we believe only in what we can see. Then i started dissections in anatomy, saw the intricate design of muscles of the hand, the convolutions called gyri of the brain, the fist shaped centre called the heart supplying blood in a closed system And i knew no man could have engineered this on his own let alone 'nature or chance' just words with no life. As each person, no matter how worthless had that carefully deliberated touch, different and uniquely proportioned. There is a God.
I got into science out of rebellion. My entire family is into the law and arts so everyone assumed i'd go into law. i so enjoyed that surprised look on my father's face when i said I'd do medicine. I had this vision in my head of the kind of hot doctor i'd be. Me, tall, leggy, short skirt, high heels, long hair, ward coat carelessly slung over my shoulder. None of it will ever come to be.
I discovered the clinical years filled with stringent rules. You may not wear pants, paint your nails or dorn too short a skirt. Ward coat white, with your name tags and no flashy hairstyles. The only time i get to be a hot doctor is on the weekends and without the coat, nobody knows or cares i'm a doctor.
I always imagined my uni life would be one great party, someone should have warned me before i filled in that form.
Most of the time i'm happy with my life.I used to wonder on happiness and was an integral part of the throng that dwelled on the sentence.'i'd be happy when...' That didn't work out for me, i'd get all the things i want, still happiness would elude me. Then i discovered that only 'me' makes me happy and if i was determined to be miserable, i would be. I started seeing things to be thankful for and less to complain about and found out He really cares. God really cares!

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Time to face facts.

He was exciting at first, he made me alive.
It was like i'd been in this shell for so long yet he effortlessly pulled me out. He made me see the sun, i could smile more. He'd hold my hand and all thoughts would disappear from my head. Was it was the mystery that made me stay, the joy of threading where no woman had stepped? Or the thrill of adventure in his eyes so deep?
Like all women who date bad boys, i really thought i could tame him.
Some think i need to attain closure, i say i feel nothing. I have no residual feelings to deal with and for the first time in a long while, i'm free and happy with it.
Y is for Yinka, my bad boy crush i had for all of a year.The actual encounter occurs in two months yet it's like i age for ten years. Barely two months and i can't recall that floating feeling he inspired in me.
I am not a typical goody two shoes. i'd even argue about being called any kind of good girl but i am, much as i hate to admit it, i really am. And Yinka for some reason i cannot explain liked me. Maybe it was the challenge thing, i've been told i portray a kind of untouchable front But I was enthralled mainly because he was different, he represented a world i couldn't grasp, like emphasizing the difference between bread and butter.
In his world, he was hot with no effort,his whole ideal centered on having fun. He'd throw on casual shirt and pants and i'd still trip for his effortless grace, he'd pass by and his scent draws you in. But we were different, too different. In his world, evry night was to the club as mine was to getting a good night sleep.And he'd drink booze like water and smoke like a chimney.However, i was having too much fun to care about differences, i knew it wasn't going to last,my only intent was to survive the adventure with no permanent damage. He was sweet when he wanted to be. He'd text me a million times just to see how i was doing. He'd bring me pizza and we'd watch a tearjerker . One time, he bought me this pink huge Teddy bear that caused an uproar. it was so alarmingly bourgeois i couldn't stop laughing. I am not stupid, i knew it was going to last, but i didn't spend my time thinking of how it was going to end. And my friends, with their disapproval, made me like him the more. And i thought 'finally, a relationship they disapprove of' He liked me, he tried to make me like his world. i followed him clubbing once. I didn't enjoy it. Too much smoke, too much noise, too much music that made my head pound. He tried to make me drink. i told him i didn't drink, not frequently anyway. Alcohol does nothing for me i explained, no taste just a lot of hotness in your throat. He asks if i've ever heard of a daiquiri. Yes, still not interested. He orders me a drink anyway. How dumb do you think i am? Besides drinks have started to scare since i heard of Spanish fly. I don't drink so he tries to tease me with a lot of necking . He's surprised when i say i want to leave. He cajoles me but my mind's made up.
How did i get to be the helpless good girl in the scenario where badboy softens her up in the bar of some dimly lit club.I never went back with him. I told him about the big V . 'Why' he asks. I tell him why, he keeps quiet telling me he respects my decision. Still didn't stop him from heated kisses trying to push my buttons.'You're wicked' he declares one day and i burst out laughing. why did that feel like a compliment?
This all occured in the space of two months, we never defined our relationship, we never denied it too. i was having so much fun with his spur of the moment unpredictable character.Until one day, when i put a stop on it. I got bored, thanks to my low threshold for boredom. I got bored of his seeming to have no thought other than fun. I got bored of his mediocre friends and the groupie thong. I got bored of his many messages, my phone capacity exhausted.i realised we couldn't manage a sane conversation without it turning erotic. I got bored with no friends to hear me gush about him. i started retreating from whatever feelings i may have begun with. It was time to face facts, time to ask myself how thick a skin i've got, how much adventure could i handle? do i keep staying with him because he gives me a high? was i wasting time on him when i could be having a normal relationship and how long more before i start to get emotionally involved? I started to see him for what he was,a child in a grown man's physique stuck in Freud's oral phase with his obsession of things to put in his mouth. Of food, drinks or cigarettes, the need for immediate gratification.It was hard quitting cold tuckey but i knew my virtues, and being the female who enjoys the process of nurturing was not part of it.
My 0.5 . I've always been scared of love, with him i wasn't.The feelings were new, they weren't threatening. It was there in the inane urge to spend the entire day with him, the million years that fly when we talk. It was then i discovered a truth about me. Though i profess to scoff at love, i'm not so different from the populace who search for love.

Saturday, April 18, 2009


Okay, it's official. I accept the fact that women are one of the craziest creatures to have evr roamed the surface of the earth. And NO, i am not a man. It's taken me years and years of arguing with males who'd lament and I'd call chauvinists[even my baby sister who's ten now knows the meaning]and females I'd call traitors to finally get to this point where i admit, That women have issues. And No, I don't mean Menstruation, PMS or Pregnancy. Before i go on and on about the atrocities of girl on girl, i shall attempt to dissect the origins of these thoughts in the hope that it'll probably make more sense more by writing than by speaking.
What is it about women in high places? Why do they have to be so rude as if that executive chair is their birthright . About three years ago when i got admission to the university a fresh second year student, one of my many joys asides leaving home and no mathematics was the thought that i was done with teachers. Every vacation since SS1, I'd be regaled with stories of campus life from my cousins who put all the glory in university. i'd hear tales of friends, events, lecturers who just 'lecture' and the many organizations to join. Hence, i had a vision of how my college life would be, no stress, no teachers, just fun. i wasn't planning to be bad but i knew how liberating it'd be with nobody breathing down your back;'go to lectures' so, imagine my surprise when i got into the typical Nigerian university and discovered the stress involved. The endless days of registration where i had to stay under the relentless hot sun queueing with a million other students just for that signature on my course form, the agony of all the medical tests i had to undergo and the accommodation? Do not get me started on that. However before i start to digress, my encounter with her started on one hot Tuesday afternoon. The day had started on a bad note since i cricked my neck, my cousin had to take me to the clinic, and missed class, but in the afternoon i felt better, so i decided to go sign my GES form. GES is an acronymn of general studies, a situation where a medical student was obligated to study philosophy or logic for one semester[bite me!]. I arrived at the lecturer's office all sweaty and tired at about 1;05 pm. only to discover her office door closed with a pasted inscription of. 'SIGNING COURSE FORMS PROCEEDS FROM 9;OOAM TO 1;OOPM FROM MONDAYS TO THURSDAYS.' I glanced at my watch, only five minutes past. So i thought, what the hey, there was no harm in trying. i knocked on the door and met the secretary who directed me to the massive woman sitting behind the wooden desk. she stared at me beneath her spectacles. 'Yes?'
Ma'am i'd like to sign my course form please.' I said. Long moments, breathes heavily, drops pen dramatically.
'what's your name' She asks 'I'm 'SOLA ma. '
'so, sola, you're new here right?' 'Yes ma'am'
'But you did English in school, didn't you?' 'Yes' i reply
'So you can read clearly. what is the time now?' 'Ten minutes past one.'
'Then you must be blind as well as new or did you not read the writing on the door, would you get out of my office!'
I didn't realise i had tears falling down my eyes until i felt the wetness. i mean, here i was; ill, tired, and sweating like a Christmas goat and all she had to do was sign one measly form. she'd have signed the form in a quarter of the time spent insulting me. And even if she wasn't going to, a simple NO would have sufficed. That day, not for a second did i attribute her behaviour to being a woman but to the miserable venting of a sick person but three years later, after countless experiences, in another environment, i had to agree with a male when he whispered that word.'Women!'
It was a new posting in paediatrics, an introductory class. And the HOD, a fifty something looking woman with 'deeper lifer' long skirt, sensible shoes, no make up and no smile took up the one hour class bringing home the message. 'Never ever tell me 'i'm sorry'. I hate people apologising to me. why would you apologise if you'd done the right thing in the first instance. If you mess up, acknowledge the fact and don't apologise to me. Your apology does not bring back a dead patient, does it. You can save it for the judge when you get slapped with a million naira law suit.' The gist of what she lectured, along with other issues not pertaining to the study of medicine. Anyways, after the class,my group were on a ward round with a jovial senior resident showing us the ropes when Prof Bitchy passes by and her armload of about five case notes falls off so i bent to help her amidst whispers of careful ma, sorry ma. I gathered the case notes and was about handing it to her when she announced, 'carry them and follow me' Egbami o! I only stopped to help and i turn out to be the help ,so i try to explain to her that my group was on a ward round and that the resident was carrying on without me. But she totally combusts raking on and on about how Adam was the first man.
'If i get you right, are you saying you cannot carry these notes?'
'No ma, it's just..' ' i asked you to do something and you dare tell me you can't'
'it's not like that..'
'Johnson!' she calls, beckoning to the senior reg who runs up like samuel hearing the call of God. 'This student says she's with you and would not carry my files.'
'oh, they're new here ma, they don't yet understand how things are done here.' Says Dr Johnson. 'I'm sorry ma' i say dutifully, the standard mantra for the corrected student.And she explodes like fireworks on July 4.'You're sorry? Did you just say you're sorry? Did you come to my class this morning? Did you listen to anything i said? what did i tell you about 'sorry'. This is exactly what i meant, defusing a situation you could have avoided. Hehn,you wouldn't carry the case notes. What if i had been rushing to a surgery? A second matters to a dying man. And if i had given Johnson here this case notes to carry, he'd have carried it without complaining. wouldn't you Johnson.' 'Yes ma' says Dr johnson without blinking an eyelid. which brought out the hard part, how could you apologise to someone who doesn't want an apology. There was a stretch of silence before she gave her verdict.'You're going to write me a letter detailing all the medical emergencies that could happen in one minute.And i still ended up carrying her case notes but not before i heard Dr Johnson whisper.'Women!' 'Coward' i thought.
This was what brought me thinking about women and then i started to notice things, subtle or otherwise. I remember my vice principal who was obese and self conscious, she'd beat any girl who dared to smile in her presence. i notice the attitude of the female doctors to other females, the fashion blind woman who keeps commenting about half-dressed females yet watch them enviously. And i see the banker so full of herself, talking rudely to you while handling your money! Not to forget my immediate nemesis,the typical female lecturer who spends an hour making disparaging comments about the time we have on our hands to fix nails, fix hair and make up. Though, it'll be hard to admit that i am not judging anyone but i do not deny the presence of actually nice women who have no problem with doing their jobs with a smile on their faces. We all know women adapted the 'firm' demeanor in the attempt to be taken seriously in the workplace and I know how hard it is to rise up the corporate ladder but some women takes 'firm' to a new other dimension. Being ambitious does not gift to you paralysis of your rissorius muscle, smile for God's sake! Quit being touchy and try to enjoy sharing from your wealth of knowledge.In the process of rising, we shouldn't forget our very essence that makes us females. we should stop hating on ourselves, do our jobs for Pete's sake and get over the insecurity already! We don't need the public suffering bad services and have it excused on estrogen, mood swings or lactation.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Dear BFF; Here comes the roller coaster!

I never thought it'd get this bad, it was just a quarrel, we live for that. But three weeks now, Konami,you could be a girl. Are you really not talking to me? Okay i admit it, i miss you.
A lot is going on in my life now i want to share it with you. I want to hear your thoughts, I want to act silly with you.It's real silly , don't you think its time we called a truce? i cannot even remember how this all started and because of this silly fight, you're missing all the fun parts of my life.I guess what i'm trying to say is that i've found him! if you were looking with me, you'd know i've found him and i am so happy. He's the roller coaster i've been looking forward to getting on and now that its here, i'm getting cold feet. Not that cold feet! not ola's cold feet, olu's cold feet not even Y's. it's a mixture of anxiety, excitement and fear and still i'm glued and can't leave this spot. i met him some weeks ago and Konami i tell you i've never felt this way before. He gets me. He really gets me, i've never met anyone who did that way, [except you of course.] he likes me, even seems to adore him. I find it cute the way he sometimes get his serious face on. Oh he's principled too, surprised that i don't care? All these fetishes of organization, time and rules. I keep telling him how disorganized i am, says i'm not. He's a leader, i like when he does that. He's better than me, I'm surprised i can admit that without rancor . He's older[NOT SO!] but we' like similar things and he actually finds things to tell me, things i didn't know before! He's so honest, certain of his place in the world and really deep, even listens to Beethoven which i don't get, still he says he'd make me like it[ who am i to complain.] Konami, i want you to meet him, i want you to like him .Yet, my fears limit me.I'm really scared. This one is different, He'd never be dominated by me. I know i've always wanted a strong man but am i gonna be good at following? The other day he asked me a question. ' Do u think i could make you cry, hurt you or could you do the same to me? I kept quiet cause i know he could. I'm the one who hurts people, HE could hurt me. I've made people cry , HE could make me cry.Konami, i'm falling and in my fears, i'm still excited and feeding this feeling, don't want it to stop. i had a test the other day, couldn't even concentrate.Now you know that this is different.You promised to always be there for me, this is different and i need you right now when i'm about falling. I'M sorry if it's my fault, whatever the cause of our disagreement, you know it's because i love you. Seriously!
Enough about my own life, ow fares u my friend? How was valentines', And the honeys' and hearts of Ur life. None of those girls would ever be me, you know that right? probably cause I've said it a million times. I miss being the number 1 girl in your life. i miss our ability to talk about random nothings, religion and music. Konami, i gave you that nickname remember? after that silly video game you were so good at. Remember how you'd tease me about my numerous 'relationships' with me complaining on yet another one with no feelings, no sparks. You feel the sparks on this one,we're both so restless in liking each other and i can't stop talking about him. We keep texting each other all day, he isn't afraid to let his feelings show surprisingly i can't hide 'em too. you know how i scribble my thoughts down?Well, he read my note and found out i'd written. 'Butterflies, help!' i was so embarrassed, had fun wrestling the note from him though. He wants to know everything about me, i want him to. And yes I'm in real big trouble, somehow i just have the innate urge to cuddle. I want to hug him, want him holding my hands as my safe anchor in the world. When i'm not with him, i miss him.Miss him when he just walks out the door. And , the issue of THE V is being challenged, haven't told him yet. The funny thing is i'm the one in danger of losing cntrol. But i am not going to, it's not going to be easy but i'm counting on God to help me and on you to bring me down to earth if only we make up again.
On a lighter note, Beyonce is in her panties phase, keeps daring us with the booty display; first with 'put a ring on it, then the 'diva' thingy. i miss teasing you over her. And Kanye is behaving like a spoilt child makes me want to mother him. You'd have laughed over that, said s'mthing only you can understand.How about Chris and Rihanna, my hero would have deleted all the'forever' on your music player. I Miss my bestie, please hurry on home to me!
Falling, who's gonna catch me? 'Sola..
PS; i'm sending a remixed version of the letter to my BFF, keeping my fingers crossed!

Wednesday, February 11, 2009


This may not be all appropriate for the myriad of thoughts going through my head at the minute but today, I'm feeling like the voice of reason in a world gone mad.
It's the second year anniversary of Anna Nicole Smith a playboy playmate who made fame by taking it all off. And while claiming to be as open minded as the next man, My head cannot seem to come around the publicity about to be launched ( again )and the media flood gates to open once again..
Anna Nicole smith died last year for reasons the doctors called 'accidental' even though her blood was found stuffed with antidepressants, analgesics and amphetamines, generally all the A's that wasn't your friend. And as if the furor caused by her death was not enough, it had to be overshadowed by the greater debate on the paternity of her child Daniellyn. At that time, I barely knew the woman but the tragedy of her death was forced down my throat by E news as well as the ensuing mystery that surrounded this death.Hence i followed this case from its origin till the day Larry Birkhead was declared the father. I may not have known what feelings i had at that time, but today i do and what i do feel is distaste and angst. Yes, anger at what the world has become, with only one coherent ringing thought in my head. 'All this for a porn star.' She was not a porn star, I'm forcefully told. 'Soft porn not hard core' fine distinctions that make no particular sense to my weary head. Here is what the world is turning to. I know i have no right to be mad but when a porn star is celebrated in such societies, one is prone to ask 'what about the rest? How about the real heroes, how are they being encouraged? And then that sentence about being famous. 'it's when you're a celebrity', when you are famous' What criteria is 'famous' judged by. J.b Cooper is famous. Should i break out of a prison? Abacha was famous, ow about killing anyone who stands in my way or General Idi Amin 'famous'. I'm sure my freezer still has some space for some human heads! Here's a thought, How about real heroes too busy trying to make a living to have time for seeking fame, How about trying to survive, fame is the last thing on your mind when you barely know where the next meal is coming from.
My friend's mother would say that the devil seats on the statue of liberty with his arms folded, legs crossed, cheek in smile as he grins to himself saying. 'my work here is done'. Then, i'd dismiss her words as ramblings of a dissatisfied soul but today i really get her. See,It's not about America but the entire world, of the sins we have committed in the name of liberty, our overstepping all boundaries in the pursuit of freedom when we barely understand what it means.Today I see differently and the fire she saw from the distance, i see it burning up my clothes. It is never only about one person but the bigger picture, the greater and outward condition of a society in the depths of moral decay where everyone is so eager to fit in, so keen to be judged 'in', so anxious to be thought open minded. Yet,what do we seek in open mindedness? To Accept all. All words, all thoughts , all ideas, all innovations accepted without question is the name of being open minded and in return be given the power to judge anyone who doesn't conform as a freak of nature, a wierdo, a close minded person.
This may sound like a general rant against all things western but it isn't, What concerns me is the rapidity in which my immediate society accepts all western ideas with open arms. Hence the culture of pornography, multiple partners, open relationships, homosexuality and indiscriminate sex is accepted and glorified in, leading to an unbelievable hike in the number of HIV and STD patients . And somewhere along the way, we have lost our morals, our values and culture hence we walk about blinded as if in a zombie haze. I have no particular grudge against Anna Nicole Smith or her child, an innocent who has no idea what world she'd been born to, They say you shouldn't speak ill of the dead hence apologies to all her numerous fans who went on an hunger strike at her death or are still mourning for her loss as this is not being unkind. It is the unfairness of life that strikes me where we dismiss the people worth being celebrated as insignificant and glory in the glamour of people who'd made no difference in the world.
The world gone mad forgets the poverty stricken mother who died, is dead or dying at the minute for the entertainment of a pop star shaving off her hair. It forgets the mother and child abandoned in war,this woman who feeds her child her own blood in the absence of water. Instead, It holds its breath on the scandalous report of actress A stealing actress B's husband. We're each so lost in the minuteness of our own world, our tiny existence that we forget that there is a bigger picture,That though our lives may end, a new generation would arise.What kind of a life would these future archaeologist discovered us to have lead.Would a scientific report be something in the lines of. 'The Millennium generation lived a boisterous life of partying and playing with no distinguishable invention except an improvement on former technology. Discovered a 5ooo year old condom in the ruins of what they'd call a nightclub along with primitive bottles they filled with alcohol' And i pity our next generations to come, is this the society into which we want to raise our kids, with the idea of a perfect life being that 'very famous, very rich porn star or actress who clubs all night and thinks Africa is a country. Where are the role models, where are our mentors? Who will we look up to as our ideal?Where else can we look except the Internet,books and television?The newer generations are absorbing these ideals like a sponge, And It's already happening, this trend of oral fixation where the desire for immediate gratification reigns supreme.And concerned individuals are putting words like 'It's cool to be smart' and 'Virginity is not a disease on bill boards.'
My kid sister who'd grown up in Nigeria where every child's dream was to be a lawyer, a doctor or accountant had a rude cultural awakening in her new school where all of her friends aspired to be musicians, actresses, basket ballers and fashion designers. There's nothing wrong with these professions but who will be our lawyers, our doctors, our architects and bankers?Are we gradually progressing to a world where there will be technology but no competent technologist, where there'd be patients and no doctors to treat, a world gone mad where there would be no such word as innocence and in one classroom, a child would open her shirt revealing her 'barely there' breasts and declare to her aging teacher.' When i grow up, I'm gonna be a porn star!'

Saturday, January 31, 2009


Whoosh! The week has gone in a rush and i don't know where to start except with the fire. SUNDAY EVENING;
At about nine thirty pm, came the voice of someone I've never heard before. 'Fire FIRE! Pls help.' I remember reading online before the electricity went off with no warning. My roommate was fast asleep after ingesting all the pathology she could take. I remember adrenalin rushing as i opened my room door just to check and ascertain if it wasn't my own room burning and my sigh of relief when i realized i was fire free, before beckoning to my room mate. 'Omotola! Tola wake up. There's a fire!' By this time, i was in my nightwear but i wasn't going to miss the fun so i grabbed a veil and made to go off. I think it was my haste that triggered Tola's instinct as she stood up immediately and grabbed me. Even i panicked. ' Tola,what is it now?'
'Where are you going?' she asked aggressively.
'Relax, Tola. There's a fire on F block I'm just going to see!' She was no longer listening to me but checking her face in the mirror, all ready to go out. It was later on i could laugh. For God's sake, you're in apparent danger and all you could think about is your face!!
By the time we got downstairs, I had my mouth open in shock. The flames were in the distance and Twas huge,like serpents of fire struggling incessantly to burn up the wooden block. F block is a wooden block of quarters that used to house the administrative arm of student government, as well as the clubs and the various press , but was on the verge of renovation hence it was a lucky thing that nobody inhabited the building cuz no one could have survived that fire with the way the harmattan wind picked it up. True to form, a crowd had gathered to watch the fire burn with a number of guys manning the extinguishers and the females shouting. 'OMO'[detergent], PLEASE BRING OMO! As i stood watching the dancing flames, I knew no amount of Omo would bring back this building. It was a goner.
NIGERIAN FIRE SERVICES. As we stood watching the fire burn, a number of people were already making phone calls. 'PLS What is the fire helpline.' [Jolly just come said whaat?]
'Hah, there's no fire service in this state.'
'Haba, of course there is.'
'yeah, there is. But they would not attend to you until the governor calls them.'
'HEHnhEH' 'Maybe i should call the vice chancellor, he'd call the governor.'
'No, call the provost. Better yet call both of them.'
All these conversations were going on in my vicinity but this particular night the fates had it in for F block and the phone network was terrible. The guys tried their best. One good thing that came out of it was that they learnt to use the fire extinguishers right.OR NOT! The fire would be on the left and my guy would fight the non existent flames to his right. And all of us onlookers would shout. 'Are you blind, the thing is on your right now!' Eventually, the fire people arrived with their blinding lights and headache granting sirens. They succeeded in putting out the fire sha [After it had burnt the building to the ground] and avoided it from spreading to the nearby G block.
THE GOOD AND THE UGLY; It got to a stage that many were alternately gisting, taking pictures and videos. So was i, I'm in the press and my editor kept shouting at me. 'Sola, are you getting This?' Take as many as you can get. 'Olu, A. GO On with the interview' The guy should have been in journalism, with the way he kept licking his paw and reciting to my tired ears. 'There's no news like bad news.' When my editor wasn't bugging me however, I was chatting with everyone. Fire does that to people, Here i was talking and flowing easily with people i'd normally not talk to, with each person lamenting on what the fire meant to him. I didn't think it had anything to do with me until someone shouted.'OH my God. the decoder is burnt.' and then i screamed. OH God No!No dstv. When someone suggested that the internet might be affected, i screamed louder. Just how was i supposed to survive with no entertainment. But i didn't have to worry, Didnt Y exist to entertain me?
I was taking a picture from a safe distance when he approached me.'Having fun?' he asked me and he was smiling, staring at my editor who was on Olu's nerves for botching something[ i have no idea what] cuz my heart had picked up at his arrival. i murmured something that sounded like no and he helped me adjust the camera. It was like my brain went into hibernation and I couldn't stop staring. ' Sola, this is bad! there's a fire and you're staring at boy. Get a grip jo.' 'what could have caused the fire' he mused aloud and i rounded up on him. 'There's a rumour going round about it being caused by a cigarette butt, don't you and ur crew smoke there?' And he had the audacity to laugh and say something about.'Don't turn presswoman on me.' 'Seriously, though.' i persisted 'the fire could have been caused by you people smoking in there.' He only shrugged but unluckily for us, We were standing right next to Bunmi whose mouth tends to run off with her. 'It's true Y. i know you people smoke in there.Where were you when the fire started? ' In my head, i'm thinking 'WTF! DID SHE JUST GET A DEGREE IN PRIVATE INVESTIGATION?'
'I did not cause the fire.' he answered quietly, staring at me and I believed him but Bunmi is really loud and her voice was already attracting attention. 'It's true now, all ye smokers should pay for the decoder. I swear if the internet is affected, i'm coming to meet you.' She was saying it jokingly but her voice was carrying and i could already hear whispers of 'serves you right 'upon all the lung cancer lectures .'mssheww' and echoes of abi o!' And, i exploded. I tend to do that sometimes and when i do i can't stop, so i gave a piece of my mind along the lines of. 'What is your problem? didn't you hear the boy say he didn't do it. If he decides to smoke, just how in heck does it affect you?' In retrospect i think she was dumbfounded because she kept quiet. I guess she didn't know the thing[whatever it is] going on btw myself and Y.
We didn't stay long after that. Y walked me to my room and said thank you for defending him [As if he needed any defense] but i told in in no uncertain words. 'You're going to die young if you don't quit.' He laughed at me. [I pity you! i said that righteously.] and said thanks anyway.
WEDNESDAY; I floated on air for two days until Wednesday when a professor called me a blockhead when he asked me a question and i didn't know it. There's such a thing in medical school where you never say. 'I don't know' you HAD to say something even if it was wrong. And then you'd be insulted [Along with your family, your generation] then corrected . I'd been told to expect the insults but i'm bad when insulted i tend to cry. So i just stood quietly through it all not uttering a word because i knew if i did, i'd probably burst out crying. Probably because i wasn't entertaining enough, he moved on to the next person who turned out more interesting but i couldn't laugh no matter how much i was dying to because i knew he'd jump right back on me.
ON FRIDAY; [sing song]i got a Daaate. Nope, not with Y but with a doctor, a professor , Professor Lagbaja. Okay i have a psych appointment. Nope i am not mad. I'm in psych posting and with all the hype about the absence no clinical psychologists and patients in Nigeria, the dude is employing medical students in his research {i am so getting used to being the guinea pig!}My mates are dreading it, not me. I'm scared and excited. What kind of crazy person would get excited over a psych appointment? Meeee!
'Will there be a couch, a sofa or a wooden chair? Will we get to talk about my totally fabulous life and how significant my mother lying about the tooth fairy relevant to my distrust in humans. Will he finally explain why i'm always late[African timer] and why I'm scared of relationships? I can't wait!!

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

I Was Tagged!

  • So, i've been unceremoniously tagged by buttercup. Ti's my first time of doing this. If it's some kind of initiation rite, here's hoping i pass. Here goes....
    ur cell phone? sitting quietly on my side table!
    • Where's ur significant other? somewhere in the world, hopefully searching for me as i am for him.
      Your hair colour? Shiny black when newly relaxed. dark brown on a dreary day.
      Your mother? Maami! i love her 'die'.
      Your father? where do i begin? a wealth of innate knowledge. A mobile encyclopedia, with his whip lash of words and his heart of gold.(And it's not a pathological condition oh!)
      Your favorite things; My Mac perfume[ A small bottle with the scent that's become my customized fragrance, my best friend swears he 'd know it was me ten miles away].oniro buruku![liar]. And the gold bracelet my mom got me for my eighteenth birthday.
      Your dream last night? Had to do with slapping a professor who called me a blockhead. Sure i don't want to share it!
      Your dream goal? Owning my own chain of hospitals providing reasonable health care for every Nigerian.Big dreams huh!
      The room you're in? My bedroom.It's my hostel(does it qualify?)
      Your hobby? playing basketball[fair player, not fantastic], novels, music and more books.
      where u wanna be in six years? I wanna be married! with a wonderful family. A working mother of one child(three more coming) just generally happy.
      Where were you last night? Hah, I was on my bed sleeping. Did i mention someone calling me a blockhead? Now i can laugh.
      What you're not? GAY!!!!!! I'm very straight.( hah hah)
      One of your wish list items; A CAR of my own. i'm not picky but nothing small cuz i'm kinda tall[no Volkswagen please and i don't care if it's the newest model] or Honda baby boy? [it's a naija slang}, a convertible or a 'be my wife'(BMW)would be nice though.
      Where you grew up? Here and there. Born in a small town called Osogbo in Osun state , a larger city called Ibadan, a larger country,the United States. Then back to Nigeria.
      Last thing you did? Climbed down up a flight of stairs because the elevator malfunctions. Nigeria!
      What are you wearing? A purple camisole.
      Your TV; Right in front of me, apparently asleep because the DSTv burnt down(a story for another day)
      Your pet; I don't do pets, i have a teddy bear though! does it count?
      Your computer? On my bed.
      Your mood; Get back to u on that one.
      Your car? Didn't I just wish for one? My father would not buy me a car for some reason, so he(Reluctantly!) lets me drive his Chevrolet truck[it's massive by the way, and very ugly.] But i sha thank God for it!
      Something you're not wearing? Shoes.
      Favorite store? This is Nigeria oh! We have stores with no names or worse yet, cheesy names like Collectibles, Shop right, Uche's place, Dress well! { okay, i just invented that one] LOL! But i like Victoria's secret, i just love underthings!
      Your summer?First of all, there's no summer in Nigeria! So, last year harmattan (Lol), spent parts with family in DC and the other part in my lovely naija med school, asking questions from ill people while being yelled at on a daily basis and all the while thinking! 'I've got to develop a thicker skin.'
      Love someone? Yes, lots! but nobody romantically at the minute.
      Your favorite colour? Light blue.
      Last time you laughed? Hmmm,twenty minutes ago. Y and T-Dhobs[my crush and his Bf] were just telling me about how Y got attacked by a canine. not sure if it's true or not but i was laughing so much my mouth hurt.
      Last time you cried?Cant recall. Oh yeah! Obama's inauguration.
      Are you a bitch? Well, nobody's called me one recently so i don't think so.
      Favorite pastime; Used to be writing. Recently,its surfing blogville reading blogs both old and new.
      Hater or lover; That'd be the latter(i think)
      Genuine or fake; I'm as real as real can be.
      Any vices? I'm kinda stubborn. it's hard to change my mind when it's made up.
      Pro life or wire hanger; In the context of justice, live and let live. But in some instances of clear cut evil. i can't help thinking if they deserve to live.
      Mccain or Obama; Naturally Obama.
      Pro-plastic or natural;Love natural, though trying unsuccessfully to break from the plastics.
      Dream job? making a living by writing!
      This is to thank Blogville for making me welcome. As a thank you gift, i'm tagging the first,[not previously tagged] five people who visited my blog.That'd be Nefertiti ,Allied,incognaija,Lil woman,and rethot. I'm also adding an additional question. 'What came first, the chicken or the egg mcmuffin?' (LOOOL! Sorry, the question just makes me crack up!)

Friday, January 23, 2009

Let's break up!

Good evening,ao was ur day.been calin u since last wk, it's like u r ignoring my calls pls try and pick'em I av some messages 2 pas acros 2 u. I'm on my knees begging. gud 9t.''

It was going to be a wonderful day, i had ironed my clothes for the day after, cooked for the morning and was generally getting ready to sleep when the message arrived. Fortunately or unfortunately for me, i didn't notice the message until the next morning. This morning ,I was greeted by this message that ended up spoiling my hoped -to- be perfect day.
This boy, Ola has a gift of persistence. We are family friends and were not particularly close in childhood .See, the boy was so chronically quiet that i was surprised when in my fourth year high school(SS1), he found the guts to write me a love letter. My recollection of the contents are vague but i remember lots of incomprehensible jargon, the gist of it which was. 'I love you, want to go out with you' but it was one statement that stuck to my head and today i can quote it verbatim. '
'I know we're too young for this but this is just to let you know that you're in my heart.' (awww!right?) .

Only, AWW was the farthest of my reaction then. I remember shock, then panic, total panic. See, i went to this girls boarding school populated by female teachers whom for some reason made it their jobs to make our lives a living hell. Their ears seemed attuned to any sound of 'boy, 'friend, lover' And evry letter, every note was finely investigated for any hidden nuance before it was delivered. There was this particular housemistress Mrs U who was paranoid with thoughts of pregnancy. Any ailment befalling us girls had to be pregnancy or worse yet, attempted abortion.(whaaaat?) True talk. There was this one time Mrs U would swear on her albino son that a girl was pregnant. Poor girl, she had all the African symptom of pregnancy, incessant vomiting, dizziness, nausea, pallor. She also had the misfortune[now good luck] of having a pair of breasts shaped like mount Gilbaltra and a huge ass I'm sure Mrs U was jealous of. I heard Mrs U visited the girl in the sick bay and the conversation went something like this.
Mrs U; So, you the one that's pregnant?
HBG; [Sobbing hysterically].I swear ma, I'm not pregnant.
Mrs U; Shut up jo, you ashewo girl.i knew it! the way you'll be walking about shaking your bum bum {LOOOOL}, sleeping with those corpers. Ashawo girl! lie down so i can examine you jo.'
''sho! the woman as we knew it had only one degree and it wasn't in Medecine. she taught us homo habilis, homo erectus and homo sapiens so that'd probably give an idea of what she taught.'
Fat girl had no choice .
Huge breast girl laid down unwillingly, submitting herself to Mrs U sadistic examination which [i heard] began from the superior part of the abdomen downwards, each prod punctuated by. 'Do you feel pain?' To which the poor girl would reply.'no ma' This was until she got to the lower part of the abdomen and gave her such a sharp prod that the girl screamed in pain and Mrs U screamed in triumph. ' I said it, you're pregnant now. shame on you, you're pregnant.'
Kai! To think that silly white people had to invent the pregnancy detection kit when there were the likes of our Mrs U. It actually turned out that Fat girl suffered from malaria but she was never the same again even after her mother came personally to accost Mrs U. Any ways, i divert. what was i saying? Yes Ola ! well, he was smart enough to send the letter through his friend who had come to compete in a friendly match organized by my own school.But i still panic, what if Mrs U was nearby watching?? So i totally panic and TEAR the sheet of paper into tiny unrecognizable pieces, then i manually shredded the tiny sheets. Oh! you would av thought i was deranged with the zeal i took to tearing that letter. '
So, i totally avoid Ola after the incidence, finding reasons not to be around when his parents came visiting, finding excuses not to visit them either. [Now i wonder why i kept running away from him.] Until about four years ago when i met his younger sister and innocently gave her my number. Ola obtained the number from his sister and for four consecutive years, he has not stopped calling.

I know I'm lucky to find a guy who likes me so much he's persisted for four years but it creeps me out. Why does he even like me? we don't attend the same university, the little contact we have is mainly by phone yet despite my cold shoulder and attitude, he still finds reason to call me. Isn't it eerie why he's still stuck on me after all these years. I av to admit he became comforting at a time, his voice my occasional anchor in a world gone crazy. He had an amazing sense of timing, often calling me just when i needed it the most, reminding me that somewhere in the world, somebody likes me.

All was going on just fine until some months ago when he decided our self imposed[scratch that, me- imposed] hiatus should be cut short and that we should meet at home, over the Eid celebrations. I must admit i knew something terrible was gonna go wrong. i kept telling my best friend i didn't want to meet him yet. He [silly boy] basically called me a coward , told me to get over myself. So i decided to, and we did meet at home. And from the first glance at him, i knew it wasn't going to work out. 'No he's not ugly and no, he did not make a bad first impression. See, all the while we had our 'relationship', I'd been trying to convince myself he could be the one and that I'd feel the connection when we eventually meet after all these years. But it was missing. And i knew i'd definitely not be calling him.

That was three months ago and after answering three of his calls, I'd started ignoring him hoping he'd get the idea and move on with his life because As my BF correctly pointed out. i am a coward in relationships. i don't do long lengthy talks detailing how i feel or where we're going. It scares the sh#t out of me, so i kind of ignore 'em and hope they find happiness{bitchy huh? but we still turn out good friends, no? acquaintances. And somehow i try to hook them up with friends]. Apparently, Ola hadn't gotten the memo and kept calling. His message this morning upset me more than any and made me feel like the worst person ever so i started a list of things i could do and why i couldn't do them.

1;I could pick up his call, hear him out. (I really don't want to talk to him, what am i gonna say) 'Ola, you're such a nice guy. I like you a lot but i'm not attracted to you. I hope you'll find a girl who deserves you'

2 I could change my phone number. Seems extreme but desperate times call for desperate measures. at least if he doesn't find me, he'd move on (wouldn't he?)

3}I could keep on ignoring him. But sooner or later he'd find a way to talk to me.

Okay i don't want to break up with him. Technically i wouldn't be breaking up with him since we never really were dating. still, i don't want to be the one to have to say it. I've learnt at a younger age that i don't do well dumping people, somehow i always seem to end up the worst for it. life would be so easier if he just ignored me too.

I am also scared. Scared that i'll never find anyone as caring or persistent as he is. I'm scared that someday, i'm going to wake up and be at the receiving end of my own cruel punishment. I'm scared that someday, i'd really regret letting him go. But is my stringing him along just to satisfy my fears, the best for both of us? I can't understand why he's willing to settle for so little from me. I'm not willing to settle for even a half and that baffles me. I dream of love, intense attraction, dream of smouldering looks even after forty years of marriage. There's not a spark here, not even an emblem of flame. Do I settle because he's devoted or leave him because of a myth? Do these intense feelings even exist[Beyond lust]? My friend says i've read too many romantic novels OR Is love, like electricity another invention of the whites? So, what to do. Decisions, and more decisions.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The 'Bad Boy' Complex

  1. Okay, there's this new boy in my class that i totally heart. i like him, like him so much it freaking hurts yet there are so many things that are not right about him ,the least of which is not that he's a bad boy.He's not all that bad but he drinks ,he clubs, he smokes not sure if he womanises.nope?[okay, i get it .He's a bad boy] And i am a good girl, i think I'm entitled to that[i am a virgin,aren't i?] So, what is it about good girls and very bad boys?(I'll probably do a research on it someday, call it the bad boy syndrome,get a Nobel prize Lol!] See, it's not that he's very cute. All that black bushy hair, the fashionable little goatie beard but that tall lanky frame,that easy grace in his own skin and those eyes that seem to drown you in them. Nope! highly overrated. His name is Y and from time to time, I'll find things to say, just so I'd call his name. In between drones of 'paroxysmal nocturnal haemoglobinuria', my thought center is engaged in thoughts of kissing, lots of kissing and more kissing. And today, my nerve endings are still being OD ed with bursts of epinephrine just from my little encounter with Y. So, here i was sitting jejelli in class, waiting with no particular anticipation for the lecturer scheduled for 'bone marrow failure 'when Y enters. it seems I'm connected to him by a weird transmission mechanism bcos na for my heart it dey pain me when i'm near him and when i hear his name, i'm involuntarily tossing my artificial braids. See me see wahala oh! i am so not this mushy, crushy,feely type.see what Y don turn me to oh. Anyways, he enters the class and my heart rate kicks up, the seat immediately beside me is empty and i'm hoping, praying wishing,(please come sit beside me, if only for today. God, pls give him to me today) It seemed i'd been particularly good because the next thing i knew, bad boy was standing right next to me, asking in his deep husky voice. 'Hi, is this seat taken?' i couldn't trust myself to speak i knew i'd say or do something embarrassing like say (SWOON!!) LOL! i nodded in affirmative pouting up my lips cutely (I'd practised that in the mirror a million times! just so u know) so he looks round the half full class probably searching for his clique. OK pause here, there's this clique thing you should know about. Medical students are not particularly the coolest people on the planet, In Med school,You'll find the most diverse variety of people ever. From the thirty somethings [i go get this certificate! no be doctor?],to the nerds with their overworn shirts and ties [i think the diagnosis is disseminated intravascular coagulation or polyarteritis nodosa].They were the kind of people you'd hate to be grouped with. They're so brilliant, they make you feel dumb[ and I'm in medical school so I'm definitely not dumb], then the minute cool guys of which my Y was an integral part. The cool/bad guys were five in number and it seemed they'd passed an interview to pick themselves out cos they so had lot of things in common. A] They all had similar names. Picture this, Two of them with the same pro names ;say adeyemi and adewole, then the other two had similar first names without the prefix;say adeyemi and olayemi, then the last one was called by only a shortened version of his last name. B) They were all addressed by their nicknames.Hence there was F, T.Whot, T.Dhobs and Coker. He sat dwn restlessly and turned to me,fixes me with his dashing smile Perfect Sugar Cookiesand declares 'I'm hungry' Actually, i'd pictured this moment a million times but never really like this! hungry? seriously! so i answer' I'm 'Sola, nice to meet you' he bursts into laughter and my toes curl. he thinks i'm really funny(aww). He's still laughing it out when his clique arrives and according to custom, he had to beckon them[spoiling my own chance for a nice romantic interlude] ' Hey, guys. over here!' he calls, so i promptly face my other side pretending to chat with my other girlfriends while actually listening to him with rapt attention. Y;'Oh boy, i dey tire oh. i no eat this morning at all' T.Dhobs; Go eat now! [Y glances at the lecturer still trying to set up the projector. ]'him, he no go see you. you for go right now, the boy blind' Y laughs and ignores his unserious friend. meanwhile, coker is staring at me across the space dividing us. 'Hey 'sola' he greets and i smile at him mainly for Y's benefit. i think coker likes me and he's kind of cute, even cuter than Y but he's not bad boy cute, the only kind of cute i like. Anyways, the lecture begins and somehow everyone of us is clustered together straining to hear Dr G's voice, [the guy is so boring he'd drive an insomniac to sleep] Okay, i'm bad but somehow, i'd forgotten[wink,wink] to put my hand bag as a demarcation between Y's seat and mine . Hence we were[ Breathe, 'sola] huddled together with his cotton pants nestling snugly against my cotton skirt, his shoulder brushing my side. i was essentially dominated by his 'cool blue' perfume and beleive me, i love scents, [scents drive me wild. ]oh!! i don't know ., i almost closed my eyes and moaned when he made, the move. you know that cinema move when the guy yawns and in between, insinuates his arms behind my back[ ok, not behind my back but on the chair,Hahn it still felt like my back!' ' so, sola, where are you from?' he whispers. ok, i av this habit, i don't know if it's prevalent but i kind of exhaust my vocabulary when being toasted. 'I don't know Y[told u i like saying his name] where u want it to be?' 'You're probably not born in nigeria' 'Ghana' i tease 'me too' he says. yeah right. we were essentially teasing each other. word flirting if you please when he asks me out. 'Alright, allright. he might not have particularly asked me out but he did say. ; 'There's a party going on tomorrow, it' for T.Dobs, do u wanna come?'' I blank, i totally blank, was he asking me out or just inviting me for his friends' party ?so i deviate.' T.Dobs?what's the occasion' Y; It's his birthday. he's turning twenty four.' 'oh my God, T.Dobs happy birthday in advance' it's a falsely cheery voice but in those moments i'd made a decision. 'so, are you coming?' ' 'isn't tomorrow a school night?' he nods. 'it is, but we'll be drinking dancing and having fun, i'm sure it beats him' he answered nodding at Dr G who'd by then was droning on and on. i was sorely tempted.Do something bad for once, skip school, dance overnight, meet some crazy guy, probably kiss my bad boy crush. But my deeply ingrained years of goodgirlship had me nooding my head and saying 'no, thanks . you guys have fun though.' He seemed surprised which was the good part, fine boy like him not used to hearing no, well he hadn't met this virgin yet! The bad part about the end of the lecture was that i had to relinquish the feel of his taut leg muscle [that's be the hamstrings] against mine.'i'll give you a rundown of the party tomorrow' he promises me, winking before he left with his clique and believe me, i couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. maybe this hard to get thing might just work out, who knows. [Mrs sola Y] OMG!, i'm in effing high school again!

Sunday, January 18, 2009


So, i decided to be a virgin till i got married when i turned thirteen. Growing up, i spent a part of my life with my five female cousins, and their mother, my aunt thought the sun shone out of their overgrown behinds. hence, every word she uttered was emphasized by how great her kids were, how well trained they were and how she was a hundred percent sure they were all still virgins. So, on that day, i thought to myself just how difficult could it be? it was mine ,wasn't it? And i could hold on to it for as long as i liked. i was determined to be a good girl just like my cousins were. Fast forward to five years later and i overheard my eldest cousin confiding in my mother how she'd lost her virginity in college. Subtract four years on, my second eldest cousin got pregnant out of wedlock. it was all very hush-hush but she had a son six months into the wedding. Then, two years later, another cousin had a baby out of wedlock. I was dumbfounded and disappointed{in no particular order}They'd unknowingly made me lose trust in the truthfulness of humanity.To think i'd actually looked up to these people as my role models! however, i learnt two lessons from my cousins' tale. i realised that talking about an idea does not necessarily mean you'd comply or holding anyone,[no matter how much you admire them] to such high standards of behaviour was inviting trouble. At thirteen, i'd only seen what i wanted to see and blindly followed the way of thoughts but at eighteen i became adult enough to reinforce my decision. it was different this time and i resolved never to be like my cousins but be me. Transform the idea conceived by my aunt into my own reality, my life. Today, i'm me;unique, different and still chaste. it's hard living in a world where everything screams sex, from pornographic billboards to movies that make you sweat. still i'm holding on if only by a thread. i'm scared of falling,it's the fear that makes me alert but with this journal, i'll vent. it'll be my form of catharsis. so i finally have a blog where i'll document all my adventures and life. So, today i'm welcoming me and everyone else to the surprisingly crazy life of a modern virgin.