Friday, July 15, 2011
Occasionally I get tired of the songs on my phone and want something fresh. Sometimes, I’m lucky, other times I’m not but hey, you can’t have ‘em all can you. Recently however, I’ve been very lucky to have three different artists, who govern my recently added playlist. They are Wizkid, DJ Klem and Darey Art Alade.
WIZKID – While I’ve not always been a fan of this young artist, I have to acknowledge his beats. Makes me wanna go back in time to my Unilag days when I was burning up the clubs (your babe try o, badt dancer like me…. Anyways, my fav, fav, song on his Superstar album has to be Gidi Gal… Chai. What can I say, the song is something else. When I first heard it , It was on constant repeat. The beat, the everything (lyrics isn’t wiz’s strong suit buh dis wasn’t bad)….what more can I say? Y’all need to listen to that track. The rest are Wiz Party, What you Wanna do (my present Ringtone), For Me ft Wande black and Wad up (tho I’m not too excited about wad up sha).
DAREY - *shivers* in a good way o. The boy try o. From Belly (a personal fav that makes me think about doing things) to Sisi Eko, Elevate Ya, Never say Never, Maybe Baby, Pillow…. Should I continue or do you get the peansure??? Good, I knew you would. What I can say is…… I CAN WAIT FOR THIS WEEKEND!!!
DJ KLEM – I had to save this for last. You know what they say about saving the best for last. I doubt that anything I say would full convey how I feel towards this abum. ALL the songs on this album are marvelous in my estimation – if you don’t like it, kill ram with your bare teeth or grind pepper with your teeth, I don’t care but mehn….. I love, love, love Still Need You. It appeals to the 14yr old in me that scoped the 18yr old boy living down my street. Disco Boogie is a perfect mix of everything I would want to hear in a song, even if I don’t know half of what the Yoruba there means buh the beat? Classic. Farabale, nko? Right Hand, Victorious, ABC?.... Yall need to listen to this. Rush as if Tsunami is pursuing you and download your own at www.djklem.com.....
Its almost 5:00pm, the best time of the entire day #lazy ghel like me and tho there might be traffic (I rebuke it in Jesus Name), I know that there are three funky men waiting just to keep me company. Aren’t I the luckiest girl?
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
So I've been optimistic since the beginning of the year, considering that last year for me was as crappy as can ever be invented. Camp was such an anticlimax, service at my PPA fell way below my expectations and it didn't help that I was so freaking broke and I kept falling ill at every lil' sign of stress. *sigh* Needless to say that at the beginning of the year, I promised to change my outlook on my life in general: start being a lot more optimistic …you know, the whole law of attraction and all of that. It has worked so far up until the day of my POP which was supposed to be a glorious day since I was leaving the hated institution that NYSC represents for me. Yeah, I know there are people who go "Oh, camp was fun. I loved it"…." Oh NYSC is a chance to serve your country, I enjoyed it"…. Well all that is crap. I'll say it again and again and again: I HATED CAMP AND WOULD NEVER, EVER WISH IT ON ANYONE!
That said, I went oh so gleefully to collect my certificate but the evil entity that NYSC is still had a trick up its dirty sleeve. We fight it out and I emerge victorious (as usual) and I was so thankful for all of it being over. I mean, y'all wanted us to get experience, WE DID!!! During this one year, I've met all kinds of people: people who are so spineless, they'd rather be taken advantage of than speak up for themselves, people whose heads are so empty that a burst of wind would blow them away. Arse-kissers, gossipers, petty old people and peeps who expect the world to bend at their arrival…. I could go on and on but I have to check myself for my sake. All in all, they are good peeps but…what can I say, I'm mighty glad its over.
I was speaking to a friend and out of the blues he said "I think you have a very pessimistic view of life". I stopped short. I wasn't shocked, no, I wasn't. What stopped me however was the fact that this person barely knew me but from the little discussion we had, he thought of me as pessimistic. What hurt most was the fact that he wasn't the first person to tell me that. I mean, I like to think of myself as a happy and playful person (almost too playful) but pessimistic? That's heavy stuff.
I still have that headache. I don't know what to do about it short of praying. Seems like panadol has lost this battle. The internet connection is down hence my opportunity to ramble. If I were to get a degree for a super skill that I possess, it would have to be whining. Nobody does it quite like I do…. I mean, why wouldn't I, I almost broke my neck this morning, I need to sleep so badly, I've had a headache for almost a week and it refuses to leave me, I get home super late and hardly ever get to see my folks, I wish I could see my boyfriend more than once a week, I wish I didn't have to worry so much about my finances, I wish I didn't feel like im under constant pressure to deliver and on and on I could go if I had my way. Sheesh……I need a way out!
Monday, June 6, 2011
They gathered around her looking at the decorated tray on her lap. “Ohh….is there a gift inside?” Kelechi asked. “No, silly” Rita replied. “its just a decorated tray. It would look ugly if I carried it plainly”. “Ohh,” Ada replied.
The three kids huddled together to discuss the little task that their friend, Rita, had just completed. She was the pretty little girl that had been picked to hold the scissors for the grand unveiling of the hotel. I watched them and marveled at the beauty of it all; little children gathered together, no little spite of ‘beef’ amongst them, their curiosity waiting to be fed. It was a beautiful thing to behold and almost wished to freeze the moment. You see in a few years time, they would grow and trivial things would come between them and spoil the beautiful friendship that they share. At this point they see me watching them and they freeze up on me, one of them offering me a shy smile.
I smile back and wish we could all have the innocence of children…the trust that only true friends have. But I’m smart enough to see the world for what it is, a dog eat dog society, poisoned by the blackness of the human heart….
Thursday, April 28, 2011
It was going to be the wedding of the century, one that would be talked about for a long time to come. The venue for the reception was the Tafawa Balewa square and everybody who was anybody was going to be there. She had taken the pains to plan every detail so that nothing would go wrong. Bridal gowns and accessories were imported from Pares, the wedding planner was one of the best, her work worth every naira paid. 'This is the way a Badejo daughter should be wed. In style' she thinks to herself. ' if I couldn't have a glamorous wedding then by all means, my daughter should have one' and she had made sure of that as everything about the wedding was fashion tabloid material. She smiled as she looked at her bedside clock. She still had a few hours to spare,she notices, as she walks towards the bathroom for her scented bath.
* * *
'What could possibly be wrong',he thought ' why isn't she with her phone?' he thinks as he paces the length of the room. He had been trying to get Ranti away from the bridal suite, all to no avail. He feels hot and cold all over and needs Ranti right now. He smiles to himself ' yeah, that babe is good for one hell of a release'. Shaking himself from his reverie, he flips his phone and starts to dial again. She doesn't pick. He has to control himself. He couldn't go through with this, he badly needed to 'ease' pent up 'frustrations'. “where the hell is Ranti?” he said to himself.
* * *
Ranti feels her phone vibrate again. She picks it and stares at the screen. Hidden number. Only Kunle hid his number to call her. He didn't want to take any chances. She had to find a way to leave the bridal suite without raising any eyebrows. She looks over to Bose is regaling everyone with the story of Kunle's proposal. She slowly makes her way to the door as the other girls ooh and ahhh at Bose's overtold tale. “ I need to go” she mumbles just in case anyone is listening. No one glances at her and she steps out of the suite and closes the door silently behind her, silently but quickly making her way to suite 102.
* * *
He starts at the knock on the door. He pauses for a while, moving oinly when the knock comes again. He was not expecting anyone so he makes his way to the door almost warily, securing his towel around his waist and praying it isn't any of the parents. It would be hard to a this bulge from inquisitive parents. He opens the door slightly.
'Yes', he asks.
'Open up' Ranti whispers from he other side. He opens the door and yanks her in and shuts the door behind her.
'What is this all about....' she starts.
'Shut up' he says and grabs her in a rough kiss, fumbling with her dress in the process.
'stop'. She starts but he doesn't listen. She struggles a bit and gives in. Its no use arguing, she wants him every bit as he wants her. The next few minutes were filled with grunts, groans and moans as both struggled to find their release.
* * *
“....and my best friend and chief bridesmaid was in on the surprise and didn't tell me anything. It was such a surprise”. She finishs with a flourish as wriggles her ring finger for the girls to see.
“oh my, Kunle is such a romantic. Chai! Emeka needs to come for lessons from him”....
… “Abi o, jeez, Bose, you are so lucky”.
Bose only smiles smugly. No, she wasn't lucky, luck was reserved for fools and misfits. She deserved everything she got and even more. Her wedding preparations, whew, glamorous but so freaking stressful. Thank God for her mum, and Ranti who shouldered most of the heavy work. She scans the faces of the girls in the room, ass kissers, every one of them. “where's Ranti” she asks, suddenly aware of her absence.
“ I think she stepped out briefly, checking up on last minute details”. Kehinde chimes.
“Aww, what a nice friend”, Jumoke adds “still running around making sure there are no last minute mess ups.”
Bose only smiles. He knew most of these girls were sycophants but they are necessary for passing across news of her glam wedding. Ranti is her only true friend. She sighs and smiles.
“ OK girls,” she claps “ its almost make up time”.
* * *
Everyone oohs and ahhs at the bridesmaids clothes, the decorations and finally the bride as she makes her way down the aisle. Mrs Badejo preens as people comment on the bride and the church.
“....she looks so radiant....”
“....expensive tastes, i'm amazed”....
“.....i must have the number of this planner. Really impeccable tastes”...
'Yes, yes,yes' she thinks to herself, 'everything is going to be perfect, simply splendid'.
The priest clears his throat and goes through the works, pausing for the couples reply but otherwise he drones on. Finally he says “ if there is any objection to this union, speak up now or forever hold your peace”.
The silence that follows hangs heavy in the room. It is almost as stifling as the heat which makes a silent mockery of the humming of the air conditioners. “What is wrong with this priest,' Mrs Badejo thinks ' its as if he is actually waiting for someone to speak up'.
Kunle glances away from his smiling bride, feeling uncomfortable with the lengthy silence. His gaze falls on Ranti who stood behind his bride. He feels his blood freeze over as she opens and closes her mouth like a lizard unsure of her decision. The look on his face makes Bose turn to face Ranti, who has by now raised her hand.
“what is it?” Bose asks, looking at Ranti.
“No” Kunle whispers behind Bose.
“I'm sorry” Ranti starts.....
Monday, April 11, 2011
It is then it comes to her, the gentle crooning of woman 2 to her baby. She sings softly to the sleeping child as woman 1 looks on. She feels the love woman 2 pours on the child and it touches something in her. Just then the bus makes a funny sound and is suddenly out of control. “the brake don loose o, the brake don cut”, a woman screamed from behind. The bus is moving of its own accord as everyone starts to pray. Woman 1 grips the seat tightly and glances to her side where woman 2 is seated. Woman 2 grips her beloved package close to her chest and though there is terror in her eyes, she seems outwardly calm. The driver manoeuvres the bus to the side if the road and everyone gets down as fast as they can. Bus driver bends under the bus to take stock of the damage done while conductor stops another bus to convey passengers to their destination. Once again, woman 1 and woman 2 are placed side by side.
It is a short journey and this time woman 2 is aware of woman 1 looking at her baby. She shifts trying to block the view of her baby and woman 1 smiles gently and looks out of the window. Soon they are at their destination and woman 2, along with her entourage move along. Before she leaves, she steals a glance at woman 1 who gives her a gentle yet sad smile. It is a heavy smile, one that shields secrets, secrets that burden the soul of the one who keeps them. Woman 2 turns away at the urgings of her friends and soon woman 1 is forgotten. Woman 1 stares after her, wishing and longing for youth that is now lost. She places her hand on her stomach, mourning a womb that would never give life.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Anyways back to my gist, so I decided to do tatafoo which is what I usually do on facebook (sorry to all my friends, considering that facebook is slowly becoming a dead zones, tatafoo seems like the only interesting thing to do), I decided to scope his photos and I discovered that he was married, very very married. I went through the comments and seeing all those congratulatory comments, I felt sayin “I hope she shows you pepper”… but I didn’t. I would have disappointed a lot of people if I had done that but it wouldn’t have made anything better (well, maybe my bruised ego). So I let sleeping dogs lie and calmly, wished him all the happiness he ‘deserves’ (which, honestly by my standards isn’t much) so I guess to some extent, I satisfied myself.
The long and short of the whole story is this, why are we expected to be the bigger persons especially when it comes to matters of a bruised heart or in my case, ego? I mean, I wasn’t vexed that he got married cos he had already informed me (oh-so-smugly) of his plans to get married. It just sucks that I wouldn’t be there when Karma decides to strike. How can someone be so mean to you and you are expected to act like everything is ok and wish him all the happiness in life? *Sigh*, I mean I don’t wish him ill, I only wish that someday, he would realise somehow how nasty he was to me and ask for my forgiveness (I wish). I guess we’ll never know….
I genuiely wish him happiness,it’s a big step he has taken you know. I might not get my apology but I take refuge in the fact that he might have female children, infact, loads of them…..wouldn’t that be such a perfect icing on my cake???
Monday, March 28, 2011
I'm an easy going fellow, i like to think that with me, what oyu see is what you get (i hope) but i seriously would not go the extra mile for you except i know that you are worth it. I also like to think that since i have no hidden agenda and am open with most of my friends, that they would give me the same courtesy, right? WRONG!!!! There is alot of sneakiness going around that i wasn't aware of and my friends finally decided to take the cloak off my eyes. I was made to realise the following facts:
1.We are in a media house so the tatafo/ Amebo levels are higher than normal. In others words, a casual hello to the head chef at the cafeteria would automatically make you his girlfriend two hours later. Relationships (casual ones) are made carefully. You don't talk to anyone any how and if someone is being very persistent about beinh your friend, you have to measure the right kind of coldness you would infuse into your hellos so as not to pass across the wrong message.
2. When a fellow colleage makes a playful remark about wanting to date you or, in some rare cases, jokes about doing stuff to you, chances are he isn't joking and if you smile back and return the joke you are giving him the 'greens', if you know what mean. In other words, Jokes are, em, not jokes so don't be decieved. They are hidden message sent out to unsuspecting girls like us to smile at and get unwittingly tangled in things we didn't bargain for.
Hearing this was like having cold water poured on your back in harmattan season. i began to wonder at all my male friends at my work place and what hidden messages they might have semt out and i must have unwittingly encouraged. I mentally sat down and began to review and i came to the conclusion that the only way to test this theory was to watch
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Its scary though, the frequency at which I have these headaches. I've googled, researched and spoken to peeps all to no avail. I get the same answer: ' stop stressing yourself, you think too much, you are not taking care of yourself....blah! I'm so sick of hearing all of that. Like i'll deliberately sit and not take care of my self. Besides how do you sit and not think? Look at my situation; i'm a bloody broke corper who hasn't been paid in months and is trying to run two jobs which happen to be at opposite ends of the world. I feel like I'm being dragged from everywhere: the office, my family, my friends, my wonderful boyfriend who is the one that makes all of this easier than it would have originally been. I mean, I love these peeps but sometimes I just want to be alone for a whole day without my mum calling me to do stuff or Destiny gisting me about his numerous girlfriends that, honestly but without spite, i'm seriously not interested in. I think I need help.
I look forward to weekends though (for obvious reasons) where I get to be with someone who doesn't judge me (except when it comes to my eating habits.....with good intentions of course) and I can actually relax with. These days even when I sleep at night, i'm tense. As in I cannot relax, it has become an effort. When I wake in the morning, i'm as tired as the day before when I went to bed. I can't talk to anyone, they'll just feel like i'm being dramatic or they scream at me (a la mommy, who is by the way my best friend) like i'm a 10yr old kid who doesn't know left from right. Whats worse, at the office there is all this petty politics going on that makes me wonder how people so old can be so petty. Its disheartening. I soooo need a way out but there is none in sight. Thankfully, it is Thursday which means that by Saturday I get to see my wonderful boyfriend (yes, yes, I see y'all yimu-ing but its me wahala) who has a very nice posterior.:) :). Till then, imma go find meself some painkillers to take care of this pounding, one-sided headache.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
* * *
She hadn't eaten in days. Her only source of food, her "friends" had deserted her, stating oh-so-explicitly that if she wanted to eat she had to learn how to hustle. She didn't blame them, situation dictated your attitudes to certain things but she wasn't sure she could do what they did.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
* * *
It was a sunny saturday and i lay on my bed watching everyone packing to go home, Moji to Gowon estate, Kemi to Surulere, Onna to Alausa. i didn't want to go home cause i had my project to write and i knew that going home will be the end of my project writing dreams. So i watched them thinking about what i was to do to occupy myself. i didn't have a boyfriend at the time so there was no one to call to take me out besides i just wasnt in the mood. (heck, half of the time, i don't know what im in the mood for...). " So what are you going to do all weekend?" Onna asks. I sigh and shift on my bed. i don't even know the answer to the question. Just then Oyin saunters into the room and flops onto the bed. "Oh my, last night was so much fun...." No one says anythinhg, knowing Oyin, she would go on regardless. "Won't you guys ask me what happened?" she asks us. "oya" Moji says "what happened?" and Oyin launches into a tale of her exploits. Trust Pyin, she is never to tired for parols or of the gist thereafter. We smile obligatorily, ask a few questions and she shouts "Iya Mercy", hethe any-work lady who helps us get our meal. The lady arrives and she orders her regular 'amala and ewedu, with inu-eron'.
Sometime later the girls start t trickle out one after the other and inside of me i start to panic cause i really don't want to atay alone in the room all weekend. "What are you doing today?" i ask Oyin, hoping that by some stroke of luck, he would consider not going out. "Oh, today is poetry portal and i'll be going. there is this fashion revolution thingy that they are doing and i'm so so going to be there" I shrug. So much for asking. "U wanna come?" she asks. iI hadn't quite thought about it sha.
"hmmm, are you sure it wont be too much trouble?"
"I'll talk to Oyinda" she says. Long story short, she does and its ok for me to come along. We prepare to go and soon we are on the island. Now, though it was an interesting story, that isn't the thrust of the story. The story begins when the show is over and it is time for us to leave. Oyin says that we can't go to school that we should go to Volar to party instead. Im in no mood to party but hey, i can be a good sport upon occasion so i tag along. A few hurs later i wished i hadn't.
We partied all night long and at 5ish, we decide to go back to the mainland. On third mainland bridge the car comes to a stop and we are stranded. We check for likely problems and discover that there is nop fuel in the car. with no station in sight, we start up trhe car and drive with all the speed that the little fuel could muster till the car finally gave up at gbagada. By now, im scared outta my wits and it doesnt help that the guys with us are tellin stories of armed robbers and how gbagada is such a 'dangerous' place to be at night. I'm praying and calling on all the powers that be to deliver us from the situation we so sillyly put ourselves into. I'm too scared to sleep but im seriously tired as i've been up all day. Paul, the owner of the car (who is quite drunk, might i add) gets a jerrycan and proceeds to look for fuel. im wonder if he is sober enough to know where he is going much less find fuel. Oyin is gisting with another guy, Idam, and i tune them out, the need for sleep overpowering my initial fear. i doze off for a while and soon i feel the car moving. somehow we landed at Maryland, then at Tejuosho in Yaba. In my sleep im thinking "jeez babes, your mates are in chucrh worshipinh and you are crawling the streets of lagos". By now, im mentally crying for a bed. At Tejuosho, ee bunk at a friends place, sleep till we can sleep no more and finally around 11:30ish am, we head back to school. I've never been so happy to see the gates of University of lagos and when we get to Moremi, i scrub myself clean of all the accumulated make-up and grime.
Fear forgotten, we gist for a while and nod off and when i awake, Oyin had disappeared (as usual). There is a knock on the door and Moji Taiwo walks in. I check the time and it ia 7:30pm. She drops her things sighing and complaining of the conductor of the bus she entered. I smile at her story. she looks at me with a wierd expression on her face and asks me "How did poetry porter go yesterday?"
I smile as i reply "you do not want to know, babes, you really don't want to know"