GOD'S OWN PEOPLE? HAH!

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!

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.

HEY

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.

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!

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.

CRAZY!

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.

WOMEN IN HIGH PLACES.
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.

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!