9 Thoughts of an Amazing Nigerian Blogger Boy.

1.   Lagbaja has refused to show his face still. I kinda respect him for that. Or did he open his face at some point in time when I wasn’t looking?
Ego has hereby faded into oblivion. Where did she go sef? Why did she leave Lagbaja?
Ego???

2. D’Banj basically has become a useless whats-his-face without Don Jazzy. Now Don Jazzy is making all the hits with Tiwa Savage and D’Banj must be somewhere out there in the cold, gnashing his teeth, drinking his Koko garri with salt and fish, Or just an energy drink, wishing, just wishing. 

3. Me too I want to do song with Don Jazzy o. Anyone who reads this and knows someone who knows someone that knows him should link us up o. Please. I can be a great star and I am forever loyal.

4. Where on earth is Tara Reid?

5. I had a dream, did a music video with Phyno, the name of the song was………..wait for it………..’Bitch Face’.

Don’t judge me.

6. I will soon start posting videos on Youtube. Videos of me singing of course.
Watch out!!!

7. I think Nigeria is the only country in the world without steady (or close to steady) power supply. I haven’t Googled it. I don’t think I need to. Just tell me if I’m right or wrong. But I feel I’m right. This country is a jungle.

8. I shouted at one man at the International Airport Immigration desk on my return to Lagos. He tried to skip the line and I went out of my way to cause a scene shouting down daggers and thunderbolts on the man. At some point he started to cuss in Yoruba and from the depths of my soul I raged “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!! AT YOUR AGE YOU CANNOT SET A GOOD EXAMPLE BY STANDING IN LINE. FILTHY IMBECILE!!! IDIOTS LIKE YOU GIVE NIGERIA A BAD NAME!!!!

When I was done, the incredible hulk vanished and the immigration officials came begging me to calm down, and of course they made sure the ugly eel was attended to last. And I left smiling, fine as ever.

9. This morning, while I was walking to work, the Federal Road Safety Corps stopped me and tried to arrest me. I asked them why, seeing as I was WALKING, they told me I was too fine to be walking the streets thereby constituting a hazard to those driving past who may be in too much awe of my presence and crash into a pole or other not-so-glorious pedestrians.

*puts on sunshades*
*adjusts shirt*

If only.

Advertisement

Dear Diary,

       So here’s an interesting story. I got to South Africa to compete in a TV music game show…and failed spectacularly.

At this moment, I’m simply trying to feel something. I’m sure I will soon. Just not yet. And I am yearning to feel something; hurt, disappointment, gratitude, shame, tears, anything. Maybe I need to process this with time.

But before I start feeling any or all of those, here’s what I know firsthand

1. It is a learning experience. Granted, the song I sang wasn’t my strongest, definitely not the intended way I would have sang it. But I did. And I’m gonna learn from it. Maybe write an album. Be stronger. Bolder.

2. It is never the end. I am gonna be a singer. The fact that I got voted off a show doesn’t mean I have no talent or I’m less amazing. I know who I am, what I have and can do. And now I will fight uninhibitedly to do what I love to do and can do. Sing.

3. I think I needed this fail more than a win. I really do. I kinda almost expected to get this on a platter of gold, no matter how nervous I was about doing this. Now as I said before, I’m gonna think long and hard. And I’m gonna learn something from this. Not sure what yet. But I will. I will not make excuses. Destiny depends on me.

Now I have to go. I feel something welling up in my inside.

Maybe it’s the tears.

I don’t even know what to say at this point.

#Nigeria

Dear Diary,

        It is no news that Nigeria is in a state of disrepair. Utter lawlessness abounds within the ranks of those who are to enforce the law; this morning, soldiers set 4 BRT buses ablaze because one of their comrades on his bike was knocked down by a BRT bus.

Please help me ask them what the man was doing on the BRT lane.

Confab had a protracted meeting and all they could come up with was to add 18 new states to the 36 on ground that the Federation is bursting at the seams trying to keep from breaking into pieces from the whole nation. And one of the delegates said the name ‘Nigeria’ should be changed to ‘Airegin’.

What is this? Game of Thrones?

Why on earth do we need new States? New parastatals? Why does everyone want to be Oga? Why do we abuse power, right from the lowest security guard to the Presidency? Isn’t that the reason why I work in the Aviation Industry where all the Government agencies are separated for no concrete sensible reason; NAMA, FAAN, NCAA, AIB? Why can’t they all just be one controlling-regulating body like it’s done in other countries of the world?

Twitter is abuzz with criticisms, the Government remains forever an information hoarder. Nigerians want to know really what the deal is with the kidnapped girls, the terrorist attacks, because now we know it isn’t a religious crisis. Muslims suffer as well in the onslaught.

Many people I know are ‘checking out’. Nigerians are cutting off limbs, heads and genitals to secure UK, Canadian and American visas.  There is no real sense of safety here. You may wake one morning with hopes and plans and just get blown up to eternity while running an errand before the day runs out.
Is that a way to live?

They say we should be the change we want to see. How in practical terms do we do that? Is it hard? We know it’s hard, but how hard is it really, cause I don’t wanna have to die for Nigeria my country?! Nigerians are nothing like ants. We aren’t bound together by a common aim. We are more like cockroaches; everyone seeking their own personal better. If one dies, we climb over the unfortunate fallen one and continue trying to get our own better.

Is this really a way to live?

Lagos Beggars.

Dear Diary,

There is this little boy who begs on the Ikeja road to the airport. He twists his right hand to look deformed. Not a very good attempt, if you ask me.

It cracks me up really.
Maybe I should take a photo.

I have looked at him closely, there is no burn or deformity there. I have even seen him at unguarded moments when his ‘deformed’ hand isn’t so deformed anymore.
Then I pity him. He couldn’t possibly have decided to stand on the road begging, could he?

Begging in Lagos….and the rest of Nigeria has become a lucrative business. In Calabar, they used to bring them in vans to beg early in the morning and at night they’d be whisked away to submit the proceeds of the day to whoever their pimp is. I hope the State Government has been able to do something about it.

There’s the lady with the pepertual scowl on her face still here in Ikeja under the bridge. Since I started working here at the airport in 2012 till now, I see her everyday quoting the same not-so-sad-anymore story “please help me, my mother is dying. She’s at the General Hospital.” I used to give her money but now I’ve grown weary of her. One time I actually asked her “Your mama never die yet?”

Then there are the others who beg and take phone calls with rather fancy phones that I don’t even use.

There’s this man I met at Oshodi who was begging every and anyone for N20 to add to his money to pay his fare to Obalende. He’d been begging everyone and still begging me. So I told him “oya come let me pay the bus fare for you. Enter the bus!” He shouted at me o. He told me to not spoil his market if I do not want to give him money.
Girl, I ran away o. Before I will just see a Nigerian movie play out in front of me where his fellow beggars will surround me and beat me.

Let’s not forget the “corporate beggars.”

Makes me feel bad for those genuine beggars who have nothing. Cause I hardly want to give to any of them.

Transvestite Child.

Dear Diary,

       Here’s a little throwback to the days of my childhood. I was a happy little child living with my parents and sister somewhere near the University of Calabar campus. At the point of this story I was roughly 6 or 7 years old…or younger. I dunno.

Ego, my sister, and I had childhood friends in the neighbourhood; Nana and Anthonia our Ghanaian friends, Umoh, Etete and Nko, our next door neighbours whose father was a tyrant and whose mother was passive aggressive, and Etekamba or Hassan, the light-skinned boy who the entire neighbourhood of parents and daughter doted on. We all used to play house, dress up and karate.

One day, Ego my evil sister dared me to be the bride.

And of course I, not one to shy away from an act of childish stupidity, said yes. So Ego brought out my mother’s favourite yellow and green lace wrapper, blouse and scarf and made a wedding gown and veil out of it. It was, now I think about it retrospectively, quite genius of an 8 or 9 year old.

The foolish game of DARE was not complete without the traditional bridal walk down the street. And I agreed. What the hell was I thinking??

So here I was, a little boy blithely unaware of the social consequence of being in a woman’s attire, walking rather nobly down the street. What day of the week was this? I don’t remember. Where were all the adults living in that street to stop me and give me a good spanking? I don’t know either. It was like a rapture of the adults.

When I was a good way down the street, maybe 60 metres, Ego shouted “NONSO, DADDY AND MOMMY ARE COMING BACK!!!”

I didn’t need any further warning or a prophet or interpreter to relay to me what kind of danger I was in.

Girl, I ran.

Turned back and started running as fast as I could to the house. Damn that evil girl Ego, she tied the wrapper too tight and I was practically hopping like a penguin. Of course when you’re in trouble, you immediately cease to think straight. All your energy goes into the basic human instinct of survival. “DO NOT LET YOUR PARENTS CATCH YOU IN YOUR MOTHER’S CLOTHES!!”

I ran.
I ran. As fast as I could with my wedding gown’s train following me regally on the dirty street.

I ran.
For my life.
For the lives of my generation yet unborn.

I ran. All of a sudden, my friends; Nana, Anthonia, Umoh, Etete, Hassan, all of them disappeared.
Such friends I had!!!

Thank God I got home before my parents caught sight of me. Ego deftly untied her creation from off me and placed them under the pile of clothes to be washed.
And the day was saved.

I am no transvestite. I have no such desires or inclinations. Thank God. Maybe the thought of my impending murder scared any traces of that out of my system. Cause Mr and Mrs Iwuchukwu would have killed the hell out of me!!!

Don’t Mess With Anyone Named Tchina!!!

Dear Diary,

I bet you will have the same response as I did when I first read this. 
“DAAAAMN!!!!!”

Here goes.

So a certain rapper best known for dating Khloe Kardashian, French Montana posted a rather unflattering photo of Everybody Hates Chris actress, Tchina Arnold and joked thus:
“I wish Martin could see this right now. He would tear her ass up.”

Tchina responded thus:

So here is my carefully outlined take on this.

1. Who the hell is French Montana?
2. Really, who is French Montana?
3. Never EVER mouth off on anyone named Tchina!!!
4. Tchina is a GHETTO AS HELL name.
5. You don’t need to be foul-mouthed to finish someone. For further education, please watch a few episodes of Downton Abbey and take a cue from the Aristocratic post-Edwardian English folks.

Stayed Up All Night Watching Scandal

Dear Diary,

       I slept at Ego’s house last night. (Ego is my big sister. Not so big though. Just 2 years bigger)
I went there because she cooked Afang soup. And I had to eat that.

Although it’d be more apt to say I STAYED at Ego’s last night considering that I didn’t sleep one wink. Ego, her friend Precious and I were up all night watching Scandal season 3 reruns. 

That show is amazing!!!

Shonda Rhimes is AMAZING!!!

Ego wasn’t up for watching the show with us but at some point she had to wake up because Precious and I couldn’t ‘HMMM’ loud enough. Between us both we downed 4 bottles of Pepsi, Coke, Fanta and Mirinda and actually clinking our bottles and saying cheers to every one of Olivia Pope’s victories.
God that show is amazing!!!

LoL don’t they look just terrible? LoL

We finished Scandal season 3 at 4:52am and then I tried to sleep. I dreamed that I was also amazing, like Olivia and Papa and Mama Pope. But just as soon as I was about to crack a case and have a major victory, Ego kicked me awake. It was time to get up for work.

She ruined my victory!!
My Olivia Pope moment. Ruined!!

I Hate her.!!!!!!!!

In other unrelated news. It’s Africa Fashion Week Nigeria.
How do I know? Well, it pays to have friends in fashion…and also the thing held in the hall next to the one my church meets at at the Eko Hotel.

I was around to see the preps for the show, all the models on full display; long legs, diva attitudes and all. And of course no fashion show would be complete without The Gays of our Lives, strutting their…stuff across the hallways, selling their market, helping designers and other preparations for the show or pretending they actually have any single shred of talent for designing clothes or putting clothes together.
Just because you wear ‘different’ clothes don’t make you a designer or stylist. I’m just done with this.

So, in honour of the current fashion week, I chose to do something I would not normally do. Be fashionable.

OK I just lied.

But I did put on white trousers though.

Yes. And I don’t look like a mafia gang member or a secondary school boy.

No pictures please.

So I urge everyone this week to just do it. Throw caution to the wind and live vicariously, dress-wise of course.

Now I’m at work, sleep-depraved. Turns out The Star audition I went for and got in showed up in the Vanguard on Friday. Now my colleagues are all over me. Could today be anymore embarrassing?

Seriously guys, I’m wearing white pants here.
And I look juvenile in that newspaper article photo.

*covers face*

Blonde Moments

Dear Diary,

          We all have a bagful of embarrassing experiences, times when we do things contrary to our intelligence and then feel stupid about them afterwards. I like to call them ‘blonde moments’.
No offence to any blonde; natural or dyed who may see this.

One night I wanted to light a candle, I picked up the matchbox, took out a matchstick, dropped the matchbox and started to strike the stick against the candle for a full minute. It didn’t make any sense to me why the bloody match wasn’t lighting up. I tried 3 other matchsticks before it dawned on me that…
Well, that moment was deeply embarrassing and I felt stupid.

I talked to a few friends about blonde moments, and of course, they had loads of stories.

1. Jerry my chivalrous and super smart neighbour tried to start a car with his house keys and was arguing vehemently with the owner of the car that his car keyhole is bad. The guy had to travel all the way to where Jerry was before they realised…
The guy just shook his head and left.
Imagine how you would feel if you were Jerry.

2. Lol, errr…so Michael my robust friend of life got occupied with work one day,

and his BlackBerry was just beside his mouse. He started moving his BlackBerry about and got so upset the cursor wasn’t moving, did that for a few minutes before he realised it wasn’t his mouse he was moving.

3. Esther was singing in church one time, she had thought the microphone was on the microphone stand and she was just there singing into empty stick. Didn’t realise until about 10 minutes deep into the worship. She was already gone in the Spirit o. Then she opened her eyes and realised…

4. There’s pretty girl Milicent

who added glittery sand on black shoe polish thinking that when she polished her shoes with it, they would shine and be glittery afterwards. 
GOSH so dumb
X_X

5. Vivienne’s colleague left her phone at work and went home. Vivienne tried to call her colleague to tell her that she forgot her phone and of course she got really upset when the silly girl wouldn’t pick her darned call. THEN she realised that the phone was right in front of her.

6. Then there’s Ochuko whose moment is as much blonde as it is just plain mischievous. She picked her nose, rolled the snort and put it on a passerby’s shoulder pad.
Ewwww. 

7. Funmi walked into KFC and asked them if they sell chicken. The look the attendant gave her let her know how stupid she should feel.

8. Allie’s sister came to stay over at Allie’s for a bit. Somehow she ended up having a rash on her face, when asked what she had been using on her face, she pointed meekly at a white plastic bottle on Allie’s counter. It was Femfresh (vaginal wash)
*moment of silence*

THEN THERE IS MY DEAR SISTER EGO. 

9. Ego wants to jump over a gutter, she steps all the way back to gather momentum to run and jump over the gutter but jumps before the set time and lands in the middle of the gutter.
9 1/2. Ego wakes up in the middle of the night to pee and somehow in her mind it makes sense to pee inside the dustbin because it looks like the toilet.

I know. Wuht????

And 10.

Ego tries to jump into a moving bus but the bus speeds off and Ego has already jumped and sadly but inevitably lands flat on her bottom in the middle of the road. 

What are your own blonde moments?

If you like (or hate) what you just read let me know your thoughts on it, please and thank you.

Failed Audition.

Dear Diary,

           I failed an audition today, simply because I “look too young”.
Damn this beautiful face!!!

As I got there, na soté buff buff macho men full ground for there o. Fear catch me sef. I thought they would all beat me and throw me out to better their chances, considering that I was by far the skinniest (and prettiest) one there.

Oh well. I was told “sorry, I’m sure you’re fantastic, but we are looking for someone between the ages of 29 and 33 and you are just too young.”

“(and pretty).” 

I said thank you to the gruff-faced man, put on my Ron Beis and walked out into the baking sun.
And to the gym.

If you’re reading my journal and have any thoughts, please let me hear them. Post your thoughts down below. Thanks.

Embarrassing Butt Falls

HAPPY EASTER Dear Diary,

And to everyone spying on me.

Had a fun ride in a BRT home from church with my friends; Kayito, Ishioma and Akinlowo.

Kayito and I fell on our butts inside the bus.

We were chatting loudly and shouting “HEEYY!!” everytime the driver hit a gallop. And there were many.
He was driving really fast.

As we were approaching Costain, the driver entered one big gallop. Our seats gave way and Kayito landed on his behind.
GBAM!!!!
“JESUS!!!”
“YEEHH!!!!”
All four of us broke into a deep, side-splitting heartfelt laughter. And I of course laughed longer than everyone else. Not at Kayito falling, or screaming JESUS while he did, it was just too damn funny!!
Let’s not forget that this was a full bus, so there were the other passengers who had had enough of our noisemaking and felt our fall was judgement wasn’t enough, they had to add their laughter to our shame. (not that I felt any anyway.)

Reminds me of a time I was buying fruits at Ojuelegba. Behind me was a woman who was cussing the hell out of a banana seller. Next thing I know, she fell IGBAM!! face flat on the ground behind me.
IGBAM!!!!!

I was afraid to laugh at her as it was doing me in my heart to laugh. The scorned banana-selling woman wasn’t even laughing. She was telling the fallen champion sorry.
How would it have looked if I, a bystander, a passerby, and by no means a busy body laughed? It would have looked bad. I had to join in telling her sorry, even though it wasn’t from my heart.
I still have a heart, contrary to popular belief.

Well, Mr Diary. Jesus is risen, Kayito and the abusive-tongued woman have fallen (on their butts and faces respectively). Easter has indeed found expression in my life.

May all your enemies fall on their butts and faces in Jesus’ MIGHTY and POWERFUL NAME!!! AMEN.

p.s. Kayito is a good friend, not an enemy. Just in case you’re asking.
p.p.s. We took a selfie with Akinlowo’s phone but he has blatantly refused to send it to me so I can use it as the picture of this post because he thinks he looks bad. (my phone was dead).