Today has been the most eventful Saturday EVER!!!
I am still on that parole my dear.
Mr Agent took me to the end of Kilo, to Itire. You haven’t seen hood like that hood. I was scared for my life. Those rats that terrorise me at home were just lying dead all over the dirty streets. Even the children are trained hunters. The place was filthy. EVERYONE ELSE was yoruba (I’m not a ‘tribalism’, please don’t judge me. Try to understand. I would live with all Yoruba folks in Lekki or Ikoyi, not Itire). And my house was at the very end of this street, Karunwi.
I just couldn’t.
2. Crazy ex-girlfriends
I ran into this girl I used to talk to back in University. She was a nut case back in the day; all suicidal, low on herself and what-not. I had talked her through a rough spot in her life and she mistook my kindness for affection. Girl started writing me love letters and what-not, but I had to set her straight, I was liking someone else…who happened to be her friend.
Girl was not having it.
she just couldn’t!!!
When I started dating her friend, she took to her Facebook wall and started pouring out all her angst. Called her all the nastiest names you could ever think up. And yes she shut me out, and we’d practically been incommunicado.
She wasn’t with her phone so she asked me to get her number (thank God).
I ain’t gon’ call her.
I just can’t.
3. After walking all around Surulere’s thickest hood to find house and an episode with crazy big chest sister, I sure was thirsty, sweating like a whore in church. So I go to buy a drink. The guy doesn’t have change so I have to buy a 1.5 litre bottle of Fanta. There is no way in God’s earth I’m gonna finish that. But mere holding it, I got preached to, scolded, stared at and ‘yimu’d’ by all the people on my way from Kilo junction to my house. People kept asking me “you wan die?” “Do you know diabetes is real?” “God will punish your greed!!” and so on and so forth. It was all really funny. Even census market came to a standstill to watch me straw my Fanta from such a humongous bottle.
Mind you, I hadn’t even gone near half of the bottle and all this negativity I attracted.
I just couldn’t.
4. I decide to go shop for denim. My only pair tore in an unholy place and I need a pair to wear to stand before God’s people and belt out notes to the glory of His name. Hence I decided to go to Yaba to buy jeans. I tag along with my dear friend @kayitonwokedi. We reach the market and the real day begins. We are grabbed in every conceivable part of our body by all the traders hawking their goods. We go to a shop and all the men troop in to sell us their different jeans. They called us ashawo boys.
And once again, I just simply couldn’t!!
Apparently, ashawo boy is a term they use for someone they perceive as fine, fashionable or whatever they think is good. Not the actual meaning of the word you are thinking of.
I kept saying NO to every wash of denim they brought. They were over-the-top, skinny and just plain tacky. We sat there for hours before we were able to find good straight-cut jeans that fit and didn’t look gay as a fruit basket on Christmas morning.
Those men will say or do anything to sell their market. They will stroke your ego by any means possible and in some extreme cases, stroke certain parts of the body. But my God whom I serve did not let me be violated once more after that conductor did that thing I’d love to forget to me.
Yaba market jeans sellers.
I just can’t.
So I am now a proud owner of a pair of ‘Tagman’ jeans. Ever heard of Tagman?
Didn’t think so.
That’s why I am unique.
And that’s why right now, you just can’t.