Hot Mess...

I’ve been a hot mess these last few weeks. The weather has been extremely hot, as you would know if you’re in Nigeria…. But then, Makurdi seems to see being hot as a competition, it/she/he (whatever gender this town is) feels a need to prove that it’s hotter than the rest of the country, I’m sure it’d have a stand off with its fellow towns in the far north if given a chance. I mean, someone needs to tell it/she/he  that saying “you’re so hot” is just a complement and not literal and it has nothing to do with the weather. We don’t say a guy is hot and get burned when we touch him… well, people sort of get burned when they touch some guys or girls that go with the hot tag, but that’s besides the point. Makurdi is Hot. And in the lyrics of some song I used to love singing years ago “take the sun, multiply its heat, ten times over, what you get is me” It certainly feels like that here. (now don’t go searching for that song, a nice Christian boy/girl shouldn’t be singing it. Its got good beats though. )I was in jos some weeks ago, it was hot, but i felt like I was in winter wonderland compared with what it feels like in Mkaurdi.

You know the term gold digger? Well I’m publicly admitting to be an ice-digger… I beg your pardon, not the bling-bling kind of ice, ice like ice-cubes. I crave ice cold drinks all day, which shouldn’t be a problem, but then the power situation has been epileptic. Between that and using the generator…. the fridge hardly has any ice-cold drinks. There are cold drinks available, but the fact that they are not ice-cold kind of exasperates me, I can’t stand the wannabe colds. I whine about it, not just talking whining, but the real kind of whining with the sing song voice, and oh my gosh, that’s so annoying, even to my ears, especially on a hot afternoon, most especially on a Hot Sunday afternoon, because you see, Sunday seems to take its name literal, it is a sun day indeed, and so the sun, its kids/heat/rays, up to a million generations come out for a sun day cook out, and we have to endure their family reunion, after all it's their day.

And so, if you’ve got ice cold drinks, then I unashamedly admit that I love you. I hound you; I talk to you with ice lust in my eyes when I hear of how cool your fridge is. I’m after you for your ice.

Anyway, the point of this post is to say, like I said before, I’ve been a hot mess. I don’t want to go out, because going out will require real innerwears, which requires real clothes and real clothes will require shoes and a well-prepped face, and hair products in my hair which add to the heat . My hair has been set free from extensions of any form in commemoration with the heat, but even with being extension free, I am still tormented by my hair, just the other day, I stared longingly at a video on instagram of this lady shaving off her hair and I desperately wanted to do that, because its so hot and I don’t even want my own hair touching me, I want my scalp exposed to whatever kind of cooling effect it can get.

I’ve had to walk out the house looking disheveled too many times, I am half way to being disqualified and kicked out of the ‘too cool for school’ gang waiting list. And then I almost fainted or threw up or did something I’m not sure of in the market the other day because of course, it was hot and the sun just smoked some weed I guess, because it was extremely high.

Thus, when I was invited for an event, as much as I wanted to be home with as little clothes as decently possible to save the household from trauma, I decided to give myself a break from myself and the heat. I threw caution out the window today.

So I dressed up. I used foundation… I dared it, how brave I was, bronzers too.  I put on lipstick and eyeliner, I used dangling earrings, and I even spritz on some chanel. A lot of it actually, why not go the whole nine yards huh? Then I wore a dress without sleeves to give me a bit of sanity.

Thus I got to the venue of the event… and well, it was a Christian music event, held in a hotel hall, none denominational... as I sat pretty feeling for my hand fan and ready to whip it out any moment, this lady sat next to me, and oh boy, the way she looked at me, and squeezed her nose like my chanel stunk of skunk. Apparently, I was too worldly for that event. I wore dangling earrings, make up and the nerve of me to expose my arms like that. I felt judged, and since I couldn’t explain to her, that I was a saved lady, and that’s why I wasn’t taking off the extremely long dress to sit by her in my undies for fresh air, I just sat there being judged as I fanned myself vigorously with one hand and raised the other hand up in worship. Even the air conditioners and fans in that hall were having heated conversations with the makurdi weather, they all worked so hard with nothing to show for it, like some government retirees.

Now I kind of feel better after all this ranting. I’m back home where there is freedom of expression, as clothes don’t matter, especially when you’re in your room, praying the spare generator being used doesn’t go off as the other one has packed up from over use and hasn’t been repaired yet.

Nigeria my beloved country!