Story Time || Creatures of the Night and Prayer Warriors

It was almost 1 a.m when my dad asked for the generator to be turned off and unfortunately, I wasn’t asleep. I was doing some writing actually, trying to complete my post on happiness. PHCN decided to do what they’re best known for—holding power—and that week had been particularly bad. I worked till I was satisfied with what I’d written; or at least satisfied enough to go to bed. The time was about 3.25 a.m or so. I settled under the covers, closed my eyes…and that’s when they came.

ZzzzZZZZ…BZZZzzzZZZ…

Sigh.

Our rather unfriendly neighbourhood mosquitoes.

What is this now, I thought. Did I not spray this room with insecticide earlier?

BBZZZZZZZZZ…

I’m surprised my skin has not scarred from slapping myself so much in a bid to kill the idiot buggers. You know the most annoying thing? They can let you be for a few minutes. Then when you’re just about falling asleep, zzzzZZZZ! In your ear! Short, quick, but highly irritating. Ugh! My brother once told me, a few years ago, that he read an article which stated that mosquitoes in Africa have somehow evolved to develop exoskeletons. For this reason, they have become resistant to conventional insecticides. I don’t know how accurate that information is, but, omo, I believe! It’s like we are dealing with a special specie of mosquitoes nowadays. And if you see how huge they are, ehn! Ha!

Continue reading “Story Time || Creatures of the Night and Prayer Warriors”

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Prose || What Pastor Kayode Said

I can’t do this anymore, I think to myself as I lean against the bathroom sink. This time I actually vomited. That has never happened before. I turn on the tap to rinse my mouth with water as I hate the taste of the mouthwash.

Spearmint.

After I’m done, I look in the mirror. My nose is running and my puffy eyes are watering—effects of the nausea. I want to speak to someone but I don’t think I would know what to say if I ever have the chance. How would it sound after the words escaped my lips?

One night, I threw up after my husband made love to me. Every time we make love I always come close to vomiting, but on that day I actually did.

Seems incredible doesn’t it? Who would be able to explain such an occurrence to me? I’ve thought so many times about leaving him. I feel terrible just thinking it and I can already hear the surprised voices of my friends and family if I do decide to follow through.

“But Jake dotes on you,” they would say. “He treats you like an egg!” Continue reading “Prose || What Pastor Kayode Said”

Book Recommendation: Homegoing By Yaa Gyasi

Ooooohhh!

Ask me how I know I’ve read an amazing book—if after I read the last word of the book, I want to start all over again. That was exactly how I felt after reading Yaa Gyasi’s Homegoing and yes, I know I’m nearly a year late to the party. Forgive me, fellow bibliophiles. Deal mercifully with me.

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The plot was absolutely fantastic. A historical fiction set in Ghana and the US, the book paints vivid pictures of the cruelty and darkness of slave trade in Africa as well as slavery and racial segregation in America. I must warn you, this book is not exactly what I would call a happy book. If you ask me to describe it in one word, I would say: intense. I didn’t mind at all though; that quality favoured the melancholic part of me. I also wouldn’t describe Homegoing as an easy read, but it’s highly gripping and thought-provoking. Continue reading “Book Recommendation: Homegoing By Yaa Gyasi”

Banter || Sex Education: How Early Is Too Early?

About three years ago or so, a friend of mine who is a teacher in a private primary school in Abuja, told me they had begun teaching the pupils Sex Education. Honestly, that didn’t sit too well with me. I had felt it was too early. I still feel it’s too early. The average age of the oldest pupil in any primary school is ten years, maximum, eleven.

I have always had the thought that if you expose something to someone that they didn’t know about before, and you make it seem forbidden, their interest is piqued. You know what they say about the forbidden fruit seeming sweeter. I fear that exposing a child to that type of information may further arouse their already highly curious minds and cause them to become interested in ‘testing’. Continue reading “Banter || Sex Education: How Early Is Too Early?”

The Pursuit of Happy-ness: A Cab Ride, Lucky Dube and a Major Life Lesson

The faded gold car I had seen earlier pulled up next to me.

‘Sister, where you dey go?’ the driver of the car said. He seemed to be in his late-thirties.

I looked at him and his car in confusion, not sure if he was a cab driver or just someone who wanted to give me a lift. It was a 2-door sports car, you see, a rarity for taxis in Abuja. With skepticism, I told him where I was going. He turned out to be a cab driver; we settled on a price and I got in. Reggae music was playing from his car speakers and he was excessively bubbly and chatty. I rolled my eyes internally.

Oh God, he’s one of those people. I don’t need this today, abeg.

Unfortunately, he was so blissfully unfazed by my silence and would not stop talking. Eight or so minutes into the journey, I received a phone call and was thankful for the distraction, albeit a momentary one. After I hung up, the driver turned on the air conditioner.

Make I on A.C for you,’ he said. ‘E be like say your body dey hot…’ Continue reading “The Pursuit of Happy-ness: A Cab Ride, Lucky Dube and a Major Life Lesson”

My Blogger Recognition Award

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To say I was shocked when I was nominated for the Blogger Recognition Award would be putting it mildly. I was pleasantly surprised. Apparently this is not a real award. It’s a kind of chain-post where one blogger tags another. The tagged blogger then answers a few questions and tags other bloggers. Still, I’m honoured.

The Rules

1. You have to thank the blogger who nominated you and provide a link to their blog;

2. You have to write a post to show your award;

3. Give a brief story of how you started your blog;

4. Give two pieces of advice to new bloggers;

5. Select 15 bloggers you want to give this award to; and

6. Comment on the blogs of these 15 bloggers and let them know that you have nominated them, providing a link to the post you created. Continue reading “My Blogger Recognition Award”

Story Time || Drama At The Cow Foot Seller’s Stall (Mummy’s Day)

“What is it?” a distant part of my brain heard my mum scream, her strong arms enveloping me. “WHAT IS IT?!”

Oh crap, I thought, feeling helpless and unable to control the horrific thing I knew was about to happen. And that’s how I fainted in the market on Friday…

 * * *

“Let’s buy the chiffon first,” my mum said as we got to the entrance of the market. It was a sunny day but the weather wasn’t too overbearing.

I agreed to her suggestion and we made our way to the section of the market that sold fabrics. In no time, we found the seller she knew. The next thirty-something minutes were spent selecting fabrics, haggling over the prices, interacting with other customers and finally, paying. It was time for us to get the other things we came for—beef, egusi, okazi, Cameroon pepper, smoked fish, okporoko, crayfish…

“We need to buy garri,” she said, looking at the piece of paper which contained our shopping list. “But let’s buy cow leg first.”

She, as well as every other Nigerian, referred to a cow’s foot as ‘cow leg’. We got to the seller’s stall, his table filled with various cuts of cow feet and hide and we had to wait our turn, as there were two customers already there. I don’t know how long we stood before I started to feel funny. Out of the blue, with no warning whatsoever—first, my right shoulder started aching, my neck felt stiff, then I became dizzy, my vision blurred, everything around me becoming pixelated; my head, my whole body, in fact, started to feel heavy, my limbs turning to jelly. Continue reading “Story Time || Drama At The Cow Foot Seller’s Stall (Mummy’s Day)”

So, Why Are You Here Again?

I had planned on posting something different but life has a way of happening and changing so many things, right? About three weeks ago, I was with my sister in her bedroom when my mum walked in, looking slightly shaken.

“Hmm, you people,” she said. “I don’t know what is happening. I’m afraid. This life…This world we live in…”

She began telling us about how someone had just called to inform her about the death of another. The deceased was a man in his early forties, so, not old at all. Apparently he was found dead on the floor of his bathroom. It was a shock to everyone because it was sudden, and there had been no sign of illness, according to the last people who had seen him. We were sober, as is normal after hearing that sort of news, and this feeling increased later that night, when we heard of yet another death. But recurring stories about death is not the only basis for this post. Continue reading “So, Why Are You Here Again?”

My Most Memorable Quotes From AMVCA 2017

I hope the title of the post didn’t make you do a double take. I know, I know. The AMVCA was over a week ago and the gist has become stale, and Africa has moved on to other things, and we’ve celebrated International Women’s Day, and the president is back in town, etc, etc. But please, don’t run away from reading just yet, I’m not going to talk about the best or worst dressed. I’ve left that for the fashionistas/fashion police.
In the midst of the typical speeches of “I want to thank God, the cast and crew, my mother, grandfather, enemies and all my village people”, there were two speeches in particular that strongly resonated with me. Being the inspiration junkie (I made that up and I’ve fallen in love with the title) that I am, these speeches sparked something inside me and I would love to share them with you guys.

Continue reading “My Most Memorable Quotes From AMVCA 2017”