What have I been doing with my life?Surviving coldLiving life one day at a time.Baking bread, reading sometimes, not looking for trouble. . I woke up this morning to realise I’ve not locked/bolted my gate in two days. I’ve been sleeping with […]
What have I been doing with my life? Surviving cold Living life one day at a time. Baking bread, reading sometimes, not looking for trouble.
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I woke up this morning to realise I’ve not locked/bolted my gate in two days. I’ve been sleeping with my gate slightly ajar. I didn’t notice because I have not stepped out of the room in 48hours. I don’t even have money so what am I doing outside?
. Cold dealt with me. I have battled it for more than a month. Rains have been falling here everyday. I hope we get the August break. I was having constant sneezing, running nose, watery eyes, itcy eyes and general discomfort which only happens at night. I did hot water+Robb therapy where you use towel to incubate yourself over hot water😁. I drank ginger every morning and night. Someone even asked me to chew raw ginger. I did. No relief.
I went to the pharmacy every other day, got different drugs I could remember from my mom’s first aid collection. A doctor prescribed some drugs over the phone. I took these drugs for seven days and was relieved. On the 8th day, symptoms returned. I went back to pharmacy and then I asked to see the pharmacist.
. “I will refer you to ENT at General Hospital. When you are ready, let me know. Take my number. Despite working at my office clinic for six months, I hate hospital. Working there was even an issue. So the thought of going to ENT at a general hospital did not appeal to me. I had no intention of calling her.
After one week and no relief, I waited for salary week then I called her. She was so nice on phone. She works at the general hospital herself as a pharmacist. She sent me the number of an ENT nurse.
So I went to general hospital, asked around for ENT, got there, explained myself and was told “you are having an allergy. It has no cure. You have to manage it”
Yaaaay, mogbe!! Kogboogun faaa!!! My friend in US who is also a pharmacist already told me the exact same thing. So the hospital wrote down nasal drops, vit C and one other drug. When I went to the pharmacy to get it, and I heard the price, I laughed. Like, spend this much on sneezing?? 😁😁😁
I don’t even spend that much on malaria. Take note that I had paid for card, consultation etc before we even reached this point. I jejely bought orange flavoured vitamin C and left😁. Sense will not kill me😄.
. I decided to visit the eye clinic since I had been postponing an eye check too. I called the pharmacist again and she gave me the name of an optometrist.
I saw the kind optometrist, who told me to get a card and wait to be called. I sat for one hour. I was almost giving up to go home when rain started. It was shortly after that my name was called. If not for that rain, I would have gone home.
So, I got a comprehensive eye test done. My glasses are two years old, not sharp again so I’m getting a new pair. A photochromic lens will cost me 20k frame inclusive. I offered to go get a referral from my NHIS hospital.
“Well, you will still pay half of the price”, the pretty doctor said No wahala. It’s still better. If I add sneezing bill😁😁 to eye bill, that’s about 25k. Eye drops were prescribed too-about three. It wasn’t available at the pharmacy so my bill would have been 30k.
Well, I got home and kept the two prescription notes and began to pray😁😁. Meanwhile I ordered two frames on Instagram. God is Good, GIG logistics just notified me it has arrived. So I will go get my referral letter on Friday and get my glasses done next week.
However, for the first time in over one month, guess who woke up this morning without sneezing?
I think I’ve been prepared all my life for talkshows. I’ve been prepared all my life to be a radio show host even though it hasn’t yet happened. It would have happened if dad didn’t stop me because I had just finished […]
I think I’ve been prepared all my life for talkshows. I’ve been prepared all my life to be a radio show host even though it hasn’t yet happened. It would have happened if dad didn’t stop me because I had just finished secondary school when I got my first chance with popular tv and radio presenter, Mr Gboyega Lawal at Ibadan.
I still went ahead to NTA Ogbomoso to intern freely in my spare time. It was there I entered the studio for the first time and saw how news are being delivered. The only problem with TV is the paparazzi-spending one and half hours to do make up and tie gele for a 20mins show. It has never made sense to me.
@Lead Radio, Lead City University, Ibadan.
My book took me to a radio station in ibadan two years ago but it didn’t feel as if I was doing it for the first time. Why? Because my favorite programs on TV are talk shows. I somehow knew I would be on air from when I was young so I rehearsed and watched. I love TVC’s Your View and loved Mo Abudu’s Moments with Mo years ago.
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…I guess it still doesn’t stop the butterflies from flying in your tummy when it eventually happens.😊
******
July 1st I was informed the previous night at about 9.30pm that I’d be speaking at Rhythm FM, SILVERBIRD radio via Instagram. No prior notice. Not even a preparation for the topic. “I trust you. You can deliver. I’ve boasted that you can do it”, she said I was supposed to be glad but I was faced with trepidation.
This person is someone I work with. She hired me to write for her. We’ve done a lot of work together. I edited her recently published book. I’ve handled her Twitter conversations on rape and gender issues using her handle. I’ve helped her hold a WhatsApp teaching class for professors, lecturers and other professionals posing as her.
. I’ve handled her Instagram and Facebook pages writing stuffs on relationship and marital issues. If she’s someone you follow, I’m behind most of her posts on Facebook till now. I kind of ghostwrite for her. She’s the one always bringing this huge jeep to my gate that makes my neighbors wonder just who I am😁.
She believes in me more than I believe in myself. She’s always hyping me endlessly. She gave me the platform to moderate and speak at her event two years ago. She’s a public speaker. We’ve been to places together.
The other day, we went to Aso TV together. One day, I was at her place and Aso TV called her to appear on their show again and she said she couldn’t make it. She was about asking me to go in her stead but I rolled my eyes.
I didn’t know she’d really still go ahead and mention me another time without my knowledge. Well, she did and it was too late to say no. I couldn’t sleep over the night. First I stayed up late to read up law issues on marital rape. I decided to bring in the angle of law based on court experience. I called lawyer friends to get their angle but none picked.
. I woke up and started looking for a good angle in my house to set up my chair and table since it was an Instagram live. This was my first instalive. No one does it on a couch😁. People are fond of using their bookshelf as background. My shelf is in my bedroom facing my bed besides, I’m a rebel. I don’t like following norms or trends.
My books- a part view
I wore a pinafore dress, looked at myself in the mirror after 20minutes and changed my mind. I removed the dress, settled for a black turtle neck top and I loved it better.
My wall is white so I settled for the entrance for lighting and visibility. There was no light. It was slated for 9am. I had my laptop in front of me. It was 8am. So I sat down watching the hands of the clock turn nine. I connected at nine and I heard myself being introduced. I spoke with the presenter the previous night and she asked how I would like to be introduced so I sent a bio.
I couldn’t notify people on Facebook because it was already after 10pm before I spoke with the show host and I had many butterflies in my tummy that made me unsettled. I just put it up on WhatsApp status. Again, while preparing mentally, I remembered my near rape experience and decided to chip it in. I was able to steer the conversation away from marital rape for a while.
Because to be honest, I wasn’t too comfortable speaking on that topic because when I researched, I discovered that the law is practically silent on it.
Culturally, there’s no thing called marital rape. Once a woman is married, it is culturally believed that she has given over rights to her body to her husband. Yes, marital rape is happening. It is sad but it has no legal backing yet. Only Lagos State has recognised it. Hence, my reason for hammering on the angle of law. If we are going to make it a topic, it has to be appropriately legalised or recognised.
When I tagged two lawyers to the post on Facebook, one spoke to me privately on this same submissions and decided to also shy away from publicly discussing it. They are men too😁😁if you get my drift-strong Igbo and Warri men. Wetin be marital rape? O gini? A certain boy who was in my class in uni went to the post to talk in the nonsense and in the rubbish. But I have emotional intelligence enough to not respond to him, just because I’m not the solution to whatever marital problem he has. A certain boy in my class also did that talking in the nonsense on my birthday post one time while trying to make a dry joke. Another colleague answered him. I’m ashamed that I was actually in the same room with these boys for four years studying biology. Is this what spirogyra, E.Coli, Enterobacter does to people? I’m not you people’s mother. I’m not your wife. I’m not living in your house osiso. The post wasn’t even supporting anything. Ewo ni temi? But sha, we move.
****** Barely one or two weeks later, she called me again in the night to inform me she gave my name to AIT and i’d have to go to the studio. Haaaaa!!! Since lockdown started, I haven’t stepped out of my area in three months not even to the office when they called me. I haven’t even seen Milord in four months. As usual, there was no time to prepare. When I called the show host and I heard the topic, I nearly jumped. But she graciously changed the topic from why marriages fail to why relationships fail. That made me happy. I didn’t even realize I didn’t know the road to AIT. So I called OBF 1. He clearly didn’t know it was me so he was speaking serious hausa. I cut him off and called OBF 2. He was on his way to Imo state and was driving. We couldn’t talk. I called someone who could have been OBF 3 and he directed me to ASOKORO, very close to my former ASOKORO office. However what I didn’t know was that AIT sits majestically on a hill. I could have ordered UBER from A.Y.A bustop, Asokoro but I heard taxis calling AIT so I joined. That was my greatest undoing. After being dropped off, I climbed the mountain abi hill sotay my legs nearly gave way. My thighs were suffering yet AIT was not in sight. Until I reached the end of the hill. It wasn’t a journey for the faint hearted.
I later recalled that Aso TV is set on the most dangerous hill I have ever seen. Even though we drove through it, I was scared in the car. I feared we would tumble down. It was a James bond move. I swore never to go with her to Aso TV again. I also recalled that most radio or TV stations at ibadan end their jingle with “a station set on a hill”- one in Mapo another in Mokola. Now it makes sense. AIT was heavily manned by security operatives. I had to call the show host before gaining entrance. I still suffered the hill climbing on my way back. I looked for a cab to no avail. I was ready to pay anything. When I came down from that hill, I was in serious pain. I called someone from the office who called her husband to pick me along the way. He was coming from National Assembly where he works and waited for me at Aso drive. He was there before me. I half hopped into the car😁😁😁. Men and brethren, this was how I went back home and didn’t walk for almost one week. After using some balm I got from our office clinic a while ago, I began to look for the balm of Gilead. No kidding, my legs were heavy and full of pain. What an experience!!! The day I regained full use of my legs again, I danced like a war, like the lion himself, like the liquid metal.
Hi, it’s been a while.I have been recuperating.I fell sick one week after treating that malaria I wrote about. It looked like I was dying. I went through excruciating pains and it was all over my body. The pains would usually start […]
Hi, it’s been a while. I have been recuperating. I fell sick one week after treating that malaria I wrote about. It looked like I was dying. I went through excruciating pains and it was all over my body. The pains would usually start in the evenings then when I manage to sleep, it comes back by 1am and I’m writhing in pains till daybreak.
I swallowed a lot of drugs. Took Panadol. Finished a malaria dose yet no improvement. I wasn’t sleeping every night for three straight days. My body was hot. You could cook noodles on my body that period. My head was banging, one of the worst headaches I ever had in my life. I could not walk again.
One day in the middle of the night, during another painful episode, after catching a glimpse of my neck in the bathroom mirror on my way from the loo, I received sense to go to the hospital in the morning. But I did one very important thing. I checked the calendar for the circle. This circle determines whether my time would be wasted at the hospital or not. The circle shows the next menstrual date. I managed to get to the hospital. Twas as if I was floating on air. I took a bike. Hospital wrote “no face mask, no treatment”. Chai, I only came with menstrual cycle date, I didn’t know that face mask was a requirement too. I didn’t even have money. But I have NHIS. I walked in nonetheless and saw all of them without facemask or lab coat sitting down gloomily. The whole place was dry and devoid of the normal human traffic. “We can’t attend to you without a facemask”, a guy said Toh. I was turning to go back home and die.
Abuja is now on partial lockdown but this happened on a no-access day. The street was dry. No shops opened. But I told myself, let me just alert at least someone that I tried o. I really tried not to die, you see I came to the hospital and went back home because I didn’t have a face mask. Well, phone buzzed and money came. I did a u-turn, asked around for where to get mask, followed a strange guy to one house where he said it was sold and got two.
Use this thing when goin to the loo. It saves you from ‘you know what’
When I eventually saw the doctor, the chairs had been re-arranged. Patients now sat close to the door not directly facing the doctor. Doctor now sat at the far end of the room close to the window. Hospital had no light. No diesel. One of the most popular bougie hospitals around. If you go to their HMO desk at Wuse, they will first of all ask you “You are from which company/parastatal? Is it Julius Berger or Total Nig…… Is it THT/NHIS? Do you have an ID card?” If you need to get tested for eyes, they will ask you to call your HMO and ask if it’s part of your package. Your HMO can choose to pay 60% while you foot the rest of the bill. They cater to big companies and government parastatals yet they can’t employ doctors. They don’t always have malaria drugs and injections. You can stay waiting for hours before a doctor attends to you. No empathy by their staff, zero professionalism. Now, no diesel. Of course I’m changing hospital as soon as Coro leaves. No more bougie for me.
The hospital was in total darkness. It was early morning but it was dark inside. I left home 7am or thereabout. So instead of referring me to the lab for test, he didn’t bother. He didn’t even ask me the period question. The thing pain me ehn. The day that I finally went with the answer to the question I’ve always failed, nobody remembered to ask me. “So, I wrote that the nurses should give you injections” “Please, give me drugs” “Okay, repeat the malaria drug you’ve been taking….. As I heard that, I knew I would not get better. And I needed anything that’d take away the pain and sleeplessness. I didn’t mind what it was. The only problem was, I never take injections. I hate needles. But like a lamb before the slaughter, I offered myself to be given injection. Something I haven’t taken in years. Drugs have always killed my malaria. But this malaria was probably sent to me. Won Fe get mi ni😁😀😊but they didn’t get me.
All of a sudden, he became quiet and asked with a very solemn voice “Do you feel the taste of food you eat?” I shook my head “What?”, He said The way he looked at me alarmingly made me realize it was a carefully scripted Coro diagnosis. My brain returned immediately. “Yes I can feel it”, I said “Are you coughing?” Then I grinned. Las Las, you no fall hand. Person wey fear Coro wey no even protect himself. How can you tell patients to wear masks and you are just sitting there without a mask yourself? “Doctor abeg, give me my file make I go collect my injection” He passed the file to me gingerly, making sure his hand didn’t brush mine😁😂 I went to the pharmacy to see a grim face woman “We don’t have this injection. You will have to go and buy. But come and sign here” The signing was for the poison she was going to give me. They wrote ‘poison’ on that book. It’s a drug for insomnia that you can’t buy over the counter. I trekked outside to buy injection. That trip shouldn’t take more than 10mins but it took me 30mins. I could barely walk.
I got back and the nurses station was empty. “Wait for them, they will soon come”. They had all gone on ward round. When a nurse eventually came, got my file and collected the arthemeter injection, she casually asked if I’d eaten. That was when I remembered that I had not. She said “ahn, you want to finish me. Go and look for something to eat” Iru wahala wo leleyi ntori oloun? Where will I get anything to eat in this dry desert? O su mi. I eventually got the injection after eating two pieces of pure Bliss. Injection was painful and peppery. I went back home and slept for the first time.
My friend, prisca’s diary messaged me coincidentally and she recommended scent leaf and bitter leaf. I’m now a responsible human being sha. I have never taken these stuffs in my life but because of what I went through, I was willing to try anything. When I blended that shit and drank, it was bitter. So I added malt to it. I drank it for three days, took injection for three days and I started sleeping well at night. The bitter leaf concoction worked every night even after my drugs finished. I rose up from my bed just few days back and I appreciate good health more. It wasn’t easy mehn. I was so helpless. I have a garden at the back of my compound where there’s scent leaf, bitter leaf, moringa, banana. Only mango tree is not there. So I will be taking medicinal concoctions now. Let me be my own babalawo. I even went to dig out my Botany 504 notebook, one of the best courses I had in 500L taught by Professor Egunjobi, a visiting lecturer from UI. We used to call the course ‘tewetegbo’.
That book contains the solution to many of the world’s biggest ailment apart from Coro using medicinal plants. It even contains how to do ‘aworo’ so that you can sell your market faster. Even how to do ‘Ogun isoye’, brain booster. I want to sell the book for 250k. Pls message me and I will send to you.😁😂😀
This stuff was in my book all along and I was messaging prisca to ask for dosage😊
I steal meat from my own pot of soup. My mother ingrained it in me to always eat with one meat. She’d even take one meat and cut into two for two of us. She stopped this habit when I got into […]
I steal meat from my own pot of soup. My mother ingrained it in me to always eat with one meat. She’d even take one meat and cut into two for two of us. She stopped this habit when I got into uni. Now, I see it as a great sin against humanity to eat with more than a piece of meat. So, rather than have two pieces on my food, I will take one. Then tiptoe to my own kitchen like a thief and steal one under a very guilty conscience. If I decide to wash plate, I will put my hands and steal another one. If the temptation arises again just as I’m done washing plates, I will take a step towards the pot again. Suddenly, I will feel my mother turning in her grave. I will feel angel Gabriel deleting my name from the book of life, then I will do a u turn and repent.
I hate to call. This is a post traumatic disorder for me. I wasn’t always like this. Every call sets me into panic mode. I’m like “who died again?”. Since I received so many bad news via calls over time, I became averse to talking on phone. I suffered a chronic withdrawal from everything and everyone and fed on my silence.
When I make up my mind about a matter, that case is closed. It takes only God to change my mind. The rigidity of my heart scares even me. If I do not like something or someone, there’s no chance on earth that I ever will. If I get fed up with a situation, I’m walking out of it. It’s just that I have zero tolerance for shits so if something is not going my way, I get easily fed up.
I am too attached to myself, my books and my space so much that I don’t care if there’s no one around me.
I am kind of lazy. I’d rather eat coco pops than cook a great meal.
I hate to share the things that matter to me. Those things that matter to me in life so much are chocolates, Tito yoghurt, roasted corn and plantain chips. I hide in my office to eat these things so that I will not give anybody😁🙈
Yet again,I am down with malaria feverBut I won’t be going to the hospital again to get tested for pregnancyOr Covid 19😀I had a visitor todaySomeone whose book I’m working onShe’s the only visitor I’ve had consistentlyBecause I’m working on her soon […]
Yet again, I am down with malaria fever But I won’t be going to the hospital again to get tested for pregnancy Or Covid 19😀 I had a visitor today Someone whose book I’m working on She’s the only visitor I’ve had consistently Because I’m working on her soon to be released/published book And I’m going to help her with a live Twitter chat this week(she’s a public personality)
She’s got malaria too. So she promised to send her brother who drives her to bring me drugs tomorrow. Whenever she parks her Corolla in front of my gate and I go out to meet her, my male neighbors are stretching their necks to catch a glimpse of their mysterious neighbor. I wink at them and say good afternoon. They all reply in unison. Today, she opened her car door and brought out a pack of INDOMIE And bread. How did she know I’ve been craving toast bread for the past two days? My account has been on lockdown that I cannot afford to buy either bread or drugs. The day that Mr N came to my house, it was late evening. Mr N works in my office and he was my dad’s assistant. I had to still enter his car to show him out of my street.
My neighbors saw him too, with his car parked in front of my gate. The new one he just added to his fleet. He greeted them. They responded. They now know they will see me outside in this Coro period only when there’s a car in front of my gate.😀 It brought back a memory to me. Of my landlady in Lagos who told me after I paid the rent “I don’t want to be seeing cars in front of my gate. The day I notice that different cars are coming to drop or pick you, I will refund your money😁.” House wey no even get parking space😁😂 That was pretty insultive. I told mum. Mum told Dad. He was livid. “The house that you’ve not even moved into and they are giving you conditions like that? It’s not a good house in my opinion. You should look for another one” “Dad, I don’t have much time. I’ve paid already. I can’t look for another house. I will stay there” My uncle whose office was at Ibafo had driven me to Arepo-Journalist’s Estate to find a house. We checked two places and it was terrible. The last place we checked, it was a face me I slap you kinda house. I was to pay them to fix it. It was just one room without any flooring. The bathroom and toilet were outside. Bathroom had no door. You had to use your wrapper as a door. Uncle said he liked the house. It was 70k. He told me to pay(or tell my dad kinda). In my mind, I said tufiakwa. Thank God for stronghead. I have one gift-I can get away with murder😁😁😁.
You can be talking in the rubbish and in the nonsense and in the thing that’s not making sense and I will be looking at you so calmly you’d think you’ve scored a point. You’d even mistake me for an obedient shaild. I do not pick guns to fight my battles. I only fight in my head and with my decisions. So, I looked like I was going to take the house, but I got back to work the next day, wore my corper uniform, went to the very beautiful Opic estate at Warewa and got myself a very decent newly built self con where I was the first occupant. I paid 100k. Dad only helped with 30k out of it.
I was well aware that my landlady was a very tough woman. But I was very confident that I’d never get into trouble with her. She’d never even see me. I visited my uncle at Ibafo Police Station and told him I got a better apartment. Mum had called to tell him what the landlady said. Or maybe I told him myself. I can’t remember clearly now. What uncle did next surprised me He laughed so loudly that he almost fell off his chair “You???? A landlady said that to you??? They don’t even know the kind of tenant they’ve just gotten. They will NEVER even set eyes on you. You that they will never see. They won’t even be sure that a human being is living in their house” You know, you cant give a dog a bad name. One thing I’m grateful to God for, is that my family knows what I can do. There are certain things you will go home and report me for and they will laugh you to scorn. They will beat their chest and say “she can never do this”. If you say I abused you, they can believe you. But that I will live in a house and have issues like men(or even women) coming to see me(which isn’t a bad thing), playing loud music, picking fights? Nah. They will remove their boxers and defend me😀 Have you even seen me in my father’s house? Sometimes when my uncle visits his sister my mother, he would have arrived for an hour gisting with her before she would inform her I’m in my room as usual. My uncle lived with us as a single. He knows my habits. He knows I don’t go out. He knows I love staying indoors. He knows I hide from the world. We were not the best of friends at that time so he wasn’t trying to be patronizing. My family understands my nature. I don’t mix, I don’t talk and I don’t put my nose into people’s business. By the way, dude is one step from becoming a commissioner of police. He got his recent promotion last December. Two weeks after I moved in, Landlady went to knock my neighbor’s door(we were just two) “Have you seen Nike? Does she sleep in this house? We’ve not set eyes on her since she moved in.” My neighbor said “She sleeps at home ma. I don’t see her too but I hear her movement in the mornings and evenings” The next day, neighbor knocked my door “Landlady asked of you. She said you should see her whenever you are around”.
So I went to their big apartment and knocked. Take note that I worked 8-6pm so I used to leave home 7.20am, take a leisurely walk out of the estate gate, go through an underground bridge and cross to my office. I was getting home 6.30pm. I had only one friend in the estate. Oris. Oris Fagbenle. A corper too and a colleague at work. She lived at the estate gate while I lived at the far end. I could stand and gist with her by the road before heading to my apartment. “Who is it” “Nike” They unbolted the door with immediate alacrity. “Haa Nike, bawo ni. We’ve not been seeing you. I hope you are enjoying our estate. I asked your neighbor to tell you to see me so that I’ll know how you are faring” 🙄🙄 “Thank you ma. I’m enjoying the estate. I go to work early and return late that’s why we’ve not been seeing. And I spend my weekends at ibadan. I travel with my dad every Friday and return to work on Mondays” “Oooh ookay. Your dad is in Lagos too?” “Yeah, he works at ikoyi” After some small chit chat, I went back to my small apartment and locked my door. I grinned. Landlady 0, me 100. They watched me carefully throughout the time I spent there. And when they were convinced I was a good girl who doesn’t give a damn, they had to like me. Landlady was a caterer and she used to kill big fat cows and cook different meals in the compound. You could just get home and see olopo in the compound. So they started knocking my door to bring free food She’d ask “Nike, bring your plate and come o” Then I’d take a small plate from my kitchen. She’d frown. ” Don’t you have a bigger plate?” “No ma”. I was a very picky eater in those days. “Is it ofada you want or jollof or white or basmati? Or you want iyan/amala/semo?” “Jollof is fine ma” Then she’d put moin moin on top, Cole slaw, big meats etc One year later, I was ready to leave their house. I went to tell them “Why are you leaving now? I thought you already started working at Compass. And you told me you’ve gained admission to study for your masters at unilag” “UK is calling my name ma. I’m going to ibadan to await my destiny ma😂😁😂 “Oh that’s very good” Dad came early on Saturday morning with kidbrother to pack my things They were seeing dad for the very first time. Come and see my report card-I overheard him congratulating dad for raising a good shaild(after having bad thoughts about me initially-olosho things probably). Landlord was having a tete-a-tete with my dad while I was packing load. They exchanged numbers.
Landlord came and prayed for me. They waved at me as we drove out. All their boys came out to bid me farewell. After I left, landlady called mum. “How is Nike? She hasn’t been calling us o. Hope she’s fine”😂😂 We became Chum Chum. Dad got home, saw uncle and began to raise his shoulders. He never discussed what landlord told him with me. I just saw that he was buying me plenty things on the road and was very happy. He’d say “Yetunde, would you like to eat corn? Should I stop and buy you corn?”😂😂
He told uncle like this “I went to pack Yetunde’s things from Lagos today. Infact, if you hear what the landlord told me about her, I was impressed. He said she surpassed their expectations. No male visitor(😂😂😂for her mind), no wahala, very peaceful geh, easygoing, properly raised, good hometraining….as in, my report card was so impressive that my daddy’s head was swelling. My dad had a lot of head swelling moments because of me many times. That’s one of the things I’m grateful to God for. That’s why the one moment I fucked up, he stood by me. He helped me to own the shit. He didn’t even reprimand me. We went through the shit together. Mr Banji of life. God punish that girl that was cooking Indomie for him, osiso.
I stayed with a girl in my 500l in school. She had a boyfriend who smoked Igbo and drank spirit. This babe too was dramatic and weird.
Hostel manager came one day and said “You are the one living with this girl? Double twale for you” Some hostel mates would draw me back and say in bewilderment “You are this girl’s roommate? How you dey do am?” Truly, apart from babe’s weirdness, her boyfriend used to come and knock our door by 11pm or 12am after getting drunk. He’d threaten to break it if we refuse to open. A friend who had graduated and was visiting was with me when this happened. She nearly lost her mind. It was as if the door would break. I had to call for help. Thank God for phones. I guess I called the manager.
I lived with that babe for one year successfully. I’m weird too. People were scared to live with me because I’d not talk, i’d be moody sometimes etc but that’s where mine ends. That babe sent me a friend request on Facebook last year. I screamed when I saw her. She said she read me on bellanaija and traced me to Facebook. We are Facebook friends today.
I can live with any kind of person. So far, they know how to keep their shits together. The people I can’t live with, are the ones like my former neighbor, who has two kids for different men and can’t stop getting restless because I’m living a gedifok-out-of-my-business kind of life😂😂😂. That woman must put her life into my business. That’s what I hate.
With all the cars parking in front of my gate now, thank God I’m the sole administrator and garrison commander of this compound. How will I explain how someone who speaks on AIT and Aso Radio comes with her car to my house or how a boss who’s like a brother, a security officer in my office came to visit. How I wan explain am to a landlady or landlord ntori oloun? The end.
One day, I will write about these things. On a larger platform. These discriminations. This- every- female- living- a -good -life -is- an- olosho mentality.
What day are we? I can’t remember days of the week again unless I check the calendar. I can’t remember how long we’ve stayed at home either I fear that I may even become another Johnbull because I’m almost forgetting how to […]
What day are we? I can’t remember days of the week again unless I check the calendar.
I can’t remember how long we’ve stayed at home either
I fear that I may even become another Johnbull because I’m almost forgetting how to even write my name.
In this COVID 19 era, electricity has been so good-23 hours of light in Nigeria. Did I ever know I’d see this day in this country?
1. Mehn, people are getting bored. But bored cannot be compared to broke. Two days ago when I went to buy bread, the road was very dry. We can only go out 3 times a week in Abuja 7am-2pm. Market will open tomorrow and I’m just sighing because the daughter of Banji cannot even go with empty hands.
2. People who have been angry with me, who have never visited me started to call. Boredom dey humble person.
Esquire was angry with me and he stopped talking to me because I said he should apply to court before I can give him the CTC of a ruling.
He called with a very humble voice ‘common CTC that I told you to give me, you refused to give me. I don’t mind driving you to the office now so that you can get it for me. I need it badly’.
What’s this one even saying? Are you a stranger in Nigeria? Drive me to the office to do what? Awusubillahi
“Wo Esquire, ko le werk. There’s an isolation centre beside my office and asides that, you think I will defy the order of my employers? You must be high on orijin fa.”
3. Mr Banji’s assistant who has never visited me called to find out where I live. He drove down and I went to pick him. He told me about the isolation centre beside our office and that we should not expect any money from the office this period . Bhet oga, drop something now. For where, he said next time. I know there will be no next time. Dude just got tired of his house and needed to just go out. We’ve been living in the same area for 4 years and he has never checked on me.
4. I finally spoke with my noble lord. He said “Yetunde, I hope you are fine. I hope you are keeping all the rules. I heard people are moving freely in your area”
“Milord, people are not moving in my area o. It is mararaba/nyanya/Karu people that are defying government’s orders. My area is very dry. There are police men on the road sef’
He said “Okay, Take good care of yourself”.
“I will, Milord”.
5. Now that money has finished, I really need to eat the humble pie and pray for Covid 19 to end.
6. My church pastor called me “hello sister, how are you. Do you still have food at home?”
Oro food ko leleyi sir. Oro owo ni alufaa.
Bhet I didn’t say that. Instead, I told him “yes sir, there’s food sir. We thank God sir.
“ok o, God will be with you o”
“eseun gan sir. Ateyin naaa”
The food is prawn crackers sha
7. After posting this, I will barely have data again. I’ve been running on data since I won’t watch TV.
8. I’ve read the entire princess trilogy(3 novels in one), Maya Angelou’s Letter to my Daughter, and I’m reading Left to Tell-the story of the Rwandan genocide.
9. I’m writing my memoir as well and I’m enjoying it.
10. What will I do with my life post Covid 19? When I drew up my budget for that post Covid era, I gasped. Life will go back to its mumbo jumbo, paying bills, running helter skelter, going to work, lectures, market, church ….barely coming up for air. Am I even ready?
Can you see my bookshelf?
How are you doing in this era? Are you bored? Care to share?