who am i?

"I write for the unlearned about things in which I am unlearned myself." - CS Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms

Sunday, July 29, 2007

RUNS...To do or not to do?

the joy(not) of runs! now thats something thats alarmingly rampant, you can't help but wonder...like the absolute 'do' among chics around, the fashionable 'it'...a fad so unfabulous its almost sinful not to parttake in...lol.
even the sixteen year olds are such devoted followers of this trend....who wants to be left behind.
you're still stuck at what 'runs' is?, jeez, where have you been...i don't have a definite definition but in a lay mans language, sleeping with older guys(rich or not as long as they provide for you) aka aristos, which in other words is glorified prostitution...but thats a word soo crude for them, and so they decied to feel better about themselves by calling it runs.

whats the reason for all this talk...oh yes i remember, so i was in abuja yesterday(no, i'm not a runs girl, didnt go to see any senator or aristo) at ceedi plaza(a not so elegant version of the palms),and i saw my one time school buddy step out of a 2007 model toyota camry,dripping from head to toe in designer wears...a tug of jealousy so overwhelming hit me, i tried hard not to show my resentment that she has it overly good, but it didnt last for long as laila my other friend filled me in with details of her life, the nightly hunts at hilton for randy old men and white ones too, the senators and co.... i sighed in relief, there i was thinking i was such a failure in life......don't blame me, its scary seeing one so young, as young as you are with so much achievements to flaunt when you're still trying hard to make a difference.sort of like having all your mates get into uni while you're still home waiting for admission.

i made up my mind never to envy anyone ever again for their material things if i don't have a clear idea of where the source of the overflowing milk and honey is from. i won't envy you for carrying the latest vuiton while i still struggle with last two seasons design, i won't envy for driving a much sleeker, faster car than mine, i'll move out of the way so you can overtake in your 2007 camry, toureg,ml or whatever(damn but they do have it good),i wouldnt blink twice if the rock on your ear drips down to your feet, while i spot a tiny dot on my ear. i wouldnt envy you when you show up at those dinners with haute couture vintage designer wears or in the latest tiffany amber designs ,while i'm decked in a humble ready to wear high street gear..., i wont because i honestly wouldnt be able to do what you do to get what you flaunt in my face....some go as far as making pacts with the devil by visiting native doctors to lure men or keep them providing.its so funny because, we cant limit the whole runs fad to the poor, i know a lot of rich girls who indulge.

just last week,a wealthy and way older toaster, whos been on my case for years now, (don't know if its the thrill of the chase or what, he won't just leave me alone) called me and made me an offer that was so hard to resist,even pleaded to hold up my trip till he sees me, he'd give me money for return ticket, shopping and more...now its difficult being a goody two shoes.temptation was calling my name so loudly i almost answered "'i'm right here" but i think something slapped me hard in the head for even considering for one second, that maybe it won't hurt to indulge just once...my head kept screaming at me, telling me that i'd be a stereotype girl.i kept dreaming how nice it would be to upgrade my ticket to first class, to shop at harrods without blinking twice at prices like i was doing grocery shopping at tesco....but would i just throw my values away for new pairs of jimmy choos? would i sell my soul for a little bit more comfort? i'm being provided for with as much as i need to be content, anything else i look for by indulging in runs would only be greed or madness.

almost every girl i know is doing it, but the money goes as easily and quickly as it comes, the only thing you're left with is your conscience, your guilt, your memories and you'll just keep hating yourself when you realize what it is you have done. even if no one knows, you know, and thats the only thing that matters cos the self is the worst critic ever.

Saturday, July 28, 2007


no man can be trusted... men! they're so alike. love this line from the movie grease "men are rats, worse than that, they are ameobas on fleas on rats, they're too low for even dogs to bite(no wonder they're dogs best friends), the only man a girl can depend on is her daddy"...oops my bad, cos you can't even depend on your good ol' dad too, because daddies like the rest of the male folks always leave too, trust me on this...just when i needed him the most he had to like die... i mean why would he die, just one reason why he had to leave, he had a perfect(well almost perfect)life, a beautiful and hardworking wife, four beautiful daughters, a handsome son and host of others who just loved him so he had no reason what so ever for leaving, except just being a typical male...

i've asked why a thousand times, why men always find a way to break your heart and why there is death? but i never get a good enough answer.i only had fifteen years of my life with dad, but it was enough to make me love him and trust him and care for him fiercely, not because he was my dad but because he was a good man who was there and who always made me laugh...(how many men can make a girl laugh), and like men do when you reach the highest peak of your feelings for them, its a cue for them to take a hike... and so daddy left.
death is such a havoc of nature, a reaper of life, with it comes pain and hurt and anger and confusion. its dug such a deep hole in my heart, that no matter how full of life i sometimes feel, that place always remains viod. one of the greatest gift or should i say compensation Gods given me for breaking my heart is my nieces, i see them as Gods apology to the family, me especially.and of course memories count too as a sort of compensation. it keeps the light shining, iremember the good times to keep me strong, i remember dad in everyday things i see and do, he comes alive in certain songs and food and jokes, in things he used to enjoy in life.

my memories have been a soothing salve for the sting death has dealt in my heart.6 yrs ago and its so amazing how it always seems like yesterday that he was standing next to me and giving me hugs, dishing out kisses, sneaking up behind me and pinching my ears, made me cry... i still cry every other day when i remember how we laughed together and played and argued(well he did most of the talking and i just sulked), i cry at the happy moments, i cry at the rough moments(cos i regret the times i wasted not talking to him for things so little, if he could come back and do them to me again, i'd just smile at him and hug him through the scolding session) i cry at the memory of how he used to make us all laugh... i cry because tears are the appropriate response to my grief. a friend read the words of Julie Burchill to me"tears are sometimes an inappropriate response to death, when life has been lived completely honestly, completely successsful or just completely, the correct response to deaths perfect puntuation mark is a smile..." i kind of understood that but i needed to cry all the same, i needed to cry in the midst of my smile. yes i'll keep smiling for his good life, but what about me?... i'll keep crying for me, for all i'll achieve without him cheering me on, he wasn't there at my graduation, what about my first real job, my wedding....but then maybe leonardo da vinci got it right when he said"our life is made by the death of others, death of a loved one is what breaks or strenghtens us." at the funeral, i watched as the casket was lowered, i watched as people hugged us, tapped us on the back, held us and told us "its alright", "i know how you feel", but how did they know it was going to be alright, or how we felt, they had no right to tell us to "stop crying" or "take heart" because they'll never be us and so they'll never know how and what we felt. the day of the burial is just a day of entertainment, a social gathering to them, while its a day of letting go for us. and the tomorows after the funeral is so frustrating(don't you just hate it)when everyone feels they've done enough comforting and your house becomes empty and you're surrounded by such a deep eering silence... thats when you scream and cry in agony your frustrations, your grief, your fears... and ask why? . i've come to realise that not everything has a clear meaning, life is basically about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing whats going to happen next....i still wonder despite this why he had to be all macho and leave...

what prompted my talk on death, men and leaving? i don't know....ah.. yes, i got back from church (this present house) and spent the day sleeping, woke up this evening to the sound of the rain outside and then my thoughts drifted to dad, the man who i was a mother to, who saw me as his star and baby, and at that moment i missed him fiercy and just wanted to hug him and hold him tight, just a moment with him was all i wished for at that point... and then it hit me that i was thinking hard to remember the smell of him... how pathetic can it be, i couldnt/can't even remember what the man i loved smelt like, i remember his smile(cos i see it in mine) but why can't i remember the smell that i knew so well... it scares me a lot, what if i'm loosing him again, loosing his memory? i'm going to ask my sisters and brother and i'm going to sit still and try to remember that scent.... i love him and i miss him and i love him even more, despite the fact that he's been a typical male to me...if he can leave me what other proof do i need to know that "people always leave" no matter how much you love and trust and cherish them.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

journey of achievements

i've got this book 'list to live by' by alice gray and a couple of others. its pretty good although i ignored it for too long, there was just always something more interesting to read. anyway i'm glad i finally did get to read it, and i'm glad to say i've gotten something from it...the seven principles of success by pat williams, they are....

its okay to fail

don't be afraid to start.

dare to dream big

don't be afraid to try something new.

take things one step at a time.

keep moving forward.

the only thing that can stop you is you.

i'm actually seeing myself moving forward after reading this, i wrote it in a little piece of paper and kept it tucked in my wallet...its just freaking motivational.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

ice for the ice princess

girls need gifts...i fancy diamond rings and fancy things, we need to be pampered, i need to be pampered...it doesnt matter that destiny's child 'independent woman' is my team song...that doesnt mean that i cant be bothered with being spoilt deep inside of me, a girl no matter how tough she may be, so tough she gets the name ice princess, theres always somewhere inside that needs and desperately wants to be shown an exquisite TLC, the only difference is that unlike the normal clingy chics, we don't show that we need it, we dont beg for it.....

i hate it when some guys use the filmsy excuse of 'you just seem to have everything, i couldnt figure what to get you'..or 'you look like you'd send anything i get you back with speed post'...get me conventional things even a teenager would think of...scented candles, get me perfumes,get me another wristwatch, or earrings(a girl can never have too much of jewelries), get me things that'll make me sigh, it doesnt matter if i have a dozzen of them as long as you didnt get me any of my dozen....just get me something.

flowers are good, although they're quite overrated in my opinon, i'm getting tired of playing the thrilled game at receiving them(don't get me wrong, i appreciate and love the effort) but i'm begining to feel a little cocky pretending to be overly thrilled about them, and the sniffing(like they do in movies,only i don't get a distinct scent from the roses, except those plastic ones that are so pumped with vanilla scents, you actually want to puke)and smiling so lovingly that my cheeks begin to hurt...

i'm not vain, but every girl deserves gifts, if you're in a relatonship where you don't get gifts, my 'rule book' says run...run as fast as you can...

Tuesday, July 17, 2007


matter how grown up we become, we always cling to some childhood attitudes we just cant live without(or don't want to live without) because hey!its fun, and damn the adult population who see it as gross...it might be too childish and gross to be coolly adults, but i don't care about keeping it all locked up...i've got a couple of guilty pleasures and more....laugh all you want, but i'm only human baby!...

dunking...don't you just love deeping your bread into a nicely made cup of tea, or oreos in coffee...uhm... the absolute pleasure it is, unfortunately, they say its not good table manners...i still love doing it in private though.

ceralac..uhm...omigosh! babies already have it good, they've got enough attention to themselves,they don't even have to clean their own arse...its only fair that i can take pleasure in their food( dont cluck your tongue at me, i know lots of others who are closet cerealac takers)
shh...spice girls! every boy every girl/spice up your life/ah..slam it to the left/if youre having a good time/shake it to right/if you know you feel fine/chikas to the front/....yes, i still watch their videos and dance to them to, i know every song by heart and those i don't i search the net for...sue me, but they helped spice up my life before...whoelse could make me scream "girl power" out loud.

my walt disney crew mousexecise album(i know this is extreme) but i just love hearing donald ducks voice sing the duckdance and the bugaboo team too...i've even got it on my ipod playlist.
fairytales...enid blyton and her books, from stories with ladders reaching up to clouds that have birthday lands and all, to famous five, i love the grimms fairy tales...i still read em all, and savour in the goodness of fairies and some gnomes, and happily everafters, they give me closure in this life of uncertainty, taking me back to childood days of life so uncomplicated and filled with dreams.

indian movies...excuse me, i limit myself to the oldies...burning train, daram ver, nagi and co...the singing(despite the headache i get after a tiring butt aching three hours of watching) and dancing around beautifully lawned gardens with beautiful girls and handsome guys in love is such a comic relief...if love was so uncomplicated, all you have to do is look for a beautiful garden or park to dance, sing, play tag and roll around under sprinklers to show you're in love...
bouncing castles(no comment here)
dancing and singing in front of my mirror, believe me i'm the next best thing to shakira when i do this.

playing the FLAME game, with my name and my crush's name to see if he'll be a friend, lover, admirer,married,or engaged...yeah its fun though.
Facebook, as much as you feel you're getting to old for this, i just cant help it, i close my page as soon as someone comes close enough...but hey, to hell with em FB is the place to be, it disolves boredom(even when i'm so busy) and its ...well its FB

city people! yes oh, naijas very own gossip magazine... all of u rolling eyes, don't lie, you're one of those who wear sunglasses, a trench coat and hat, dressed like an undercover cop, just so no one sees you buying city people....i admit i read it, i use my very precious hundred and fifty bucks to buy, just for the fun of it, the whole shallowness n stuff is hilarious...

i could go on, but i've embarrassed myself enough. c ya!

Monday, July 16, 2007

belated birthday

hey, happy belated birthday to me...6th july it was, the day i clocked the double two...now thats old, can't believe there was ever a time i wished to be all grown up...because right now, i wish i could turn back time to a place where i was oblivious to the evils of the world around, just a happy kid, playing with her doll and stuff. anyway, i'm the queen of fantasy, so i'm quite an expert in blocking out worries and tuning out from the world, just dwelling and cheering in that far away land i've created for myself where i am queen and i have the choice of whatever prince charming i want(now thats something thats not so easy to do even in lala land). i had a bbq thingy, my friends came from all over to makurdi and we just made the best out of everything.
i set a goal for myself years ago, to achieve certain things by the age of twenty...not my fault i couldn't meet up(then whos fault)...well i guess it's my fault, nonchalance down to the core and being just plain lazy, not wanting to take the plunge and all....but i've learnt not to be too hard on myself, cos as long as there is life, then theres definitely hope and as long as i have that hope, that dream to achieve will remain with me till it becomes a reality...now hows that?

i got so depressed last night, there i was lying in my room on my bed while my friends were having the time of their life at the thisday music festival...there was diddy, rihanna, john legend, neyo....aw...how could i have missed that, all because i was in makurdi.i attended the first show, v.i.p baby! and it was absolutely wonderful and exciting, just thinking of what they would be enjoying made my whole body tingle with jealousy....enough of the self torturing, i heard it was off the hook though!

cant wait to leave makurdi for lagos, don't get me wrong i grew up here, this is home to me, i love it that most streets i drive past has a childhood memory attached to it, i love the fact that it takes less than ten minutes to get to a destination,driving is fun unlike in lagos and the stagnant traffic, everthing is simple and less complicated here, even the gossip folks as is a characteristic of most small towns can be incredibly interesting and quite amusing, especially when you hear gist about yourself....but in recent times, the robery situation has been so daunting, me who used to be the macho man of the house, giving frowny faces to mom and aunties for getting scared easily, driving alone on lonely roads in the a.ms, confronting and calling to bluff those scary agboros in lagos traffic jams that knock on my car windows.....well that me has been drilled in a lesson of fear...first there was the gun piont snatching of my car and my new n95 phone(whats the point in getting expensive phones just so someone else can steal it)(try getting a gun pointed at you with a menacing face holding it, your life would never be the same again), twas in broad daylight, second time,less than two weeks after, was driving a friends car and i was followed home, luckily they couldnt get me. now, my heart beats just at the sight of a bike(their mode of operation), even the policemen added to the two other guards in the house are not enough to quench my fear, in my room i shiver at the sound of any clang outside...i've a new found phobia for driving(which i love so much), wouldn't go out if the driver isnt taking me, wouldn't even go out at all to visit if its not absolutely necessary......hope to be out of here by the weekend, to the land of over population and possibilities.

jeez, feel like a crappy old lady with all the writing, not like anybody is reading this, anyway, writing is therapeutic to me, loosens me up. ciao ciao!
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