Let Me Tell You!

I have a couple of issues to address in this post. Please stay with me:

1.    I went home on spring break about two weeks ago. I couldn’t afford to fly because it was so expensive so I opted to drive with some friends of a friend. If you know anything about America, you will testify that indeed nothing is free. I was prepared for this. Also, prior to the trip, my friend “Lank” had told me that his friend,” Boon”, wanted $35 as “fee”. I agreed to pay it. Mind you, Lank and Boon are both Nigerians. When I wanted to pay, I didn’t have the exact amount on me so I gave Boon $40 and waited to see if he would give me my change.

About 30mins after I gave him the money, he gave me my $5 change without me prompting him. He had picked me up from my hall and dropped me off right in front of my house. I would have returned to school with him but he left NYC long before I was ready to leave. Lank then linked me up with another person who I could travel back with----an African American (I believe) who I shall refer to as Looney.

Lank had told me that Looney was requesting for $30 and that kind of made sense to me, considering that Looney expected me to join him in The Bronx (though I live in Brooklyn). I had to take a cab to Looney’s (Cos of my baggage). So tell me why as the journey progresses, I see us branching off into some town like that. I hadn’t been told/forewarned of anything and I sat there like a mumu, watching the proceedings. I later got to realize (on my own) that he had branched off to pick up his girlfriend (who seemed to live out of our way) and even spent like an hour after we got there.

Anyway, I found some conviction within myself that it was time to pay. I had not the exact change (again) so I gave him $40 and waited for my change. Five hours later, he made no mention of my change or proffered any explanation. Mind you, I was not the only person in the car who was paying him and from what I saw, the others paid him way less that the said $30.

I just smiled within my mind and said nothing of the money. Why you ask? It was not his fault that I hadn’t asked for change from the co-passengers before giving him the money. Also, I got some unexpected money that morning so if he would revert to duping me to take care of his needs, God had already blessed me in advance. Plus now, I have learnt my lessons.

So, moral is, if you think Nigerians are the only dubious ones, you are on a loooong thing.

1. I was sitting in one of my classes, stiff-bored (that is another post since I still don’t realize the essence of some of the classes I am being forced to take in my major), when an idea popped into my cute little (and yeah I said little) head. I had been remembering YY’s niece who I met on my trip. She was only 3 years old but could recite the states and capitals. To cure the boredom, the idea was to attempt writing the Nigerian States and Capitals. I use the word “attempt” because that was exactly what it was, an attempt:

a.    I came up with about 20 states after 3 hours.  *runsawaybeforeyoustartstoningme*

b.   The capital for my Adamawa was Umuahia.

c.   Jos was a state.

d.   The capital for Enugu was Aba.

e.   The capitals for Kastina, Maiduguiri, Anambra and a few others were missing.

f.   About 16 states and capitals were still missing in recital.

Needless to say I am shamed! I then tried remembering what I learnt in my geography classes in High school. I came up short. Believe it or not, until I came to the States, I had no idea there was any other Black continent except from Africa. I always though Brazil was in Europe. I thought Europe was to the West of Africa.

I need not disgrace myself further with my geographic ignorance. My concern however lies in the question of “what then are we being taught in school?” The average American Child has a rough idea of where other countries are located (at least they can tell you in which continent it is). Can the same be said of an average Nigerian Child?
Yet, we aim to compete on international levels though we have little or no idea of our neighbors, talk less of the rest of the world.

I am going back to my drawing book and relearning the states and capital. Try it and let me know what you discover.

The World in Our Hands

Abia- Umuahia

Adamawa-Yola

Akwa Ibom- Uyo

Anambra-

I’m out of here before you fully stone me…….:d

Long Time Coming 1

Ble Ble, my personal person, looked around and bestowed me with this wonderful award. She awarded me a few weeks ago,yet I am just posting it…*I yam ashamed of meself already*

Here are the rules :

Un) Mention five guilty pleasures

Deux) Nominate three bloggers to receive the award

• ·         A black black man is such a huge turn on for me! It takes longer for a fair-skinned guy to get my attention and attraction. The “burnt” ones just do it for me.
• ·         I am a shameless and chronic ice-cream lover. Can I have cookie dough, peanuts, oreo cookies and vermicelli mixed into my vanilla ice-cream and put in a waffle, please and thank you!
• ·         #suemenow# I SOMETIMES like to check out total strangers’ packages….the males. So most times, I end up being that person who notices a guy with the zipper down or the guy sporting a hard-on..oops! I don’t do it all the time and I am as discreet as a fly on the wall.
• ·         I love fragrances but hate floral fragrances.
• ·         My fifth guilty pleasure is a pleasure that is guilty and thus, I proclaim it unbloggable, for now. #youshacan’tkillmenow+ I will take guesses#

I hereby nominate…………………………………:>

Ibhade/Nitty Gritty

Sisi Yemmie

Nonye

If you haven’t been to any of the above blogs, you need to “shek” them/it out!!!

He said vs She Said

     My day had been uneventful. Nothing unusual had happened unless the fact that Ngor picked up on first ring counts.  My friend, an RA (Resident Assistant) in my hall who has this habit of inviting me for programs like 20mins to commencement invited me for a “program”.  Anybody who knows me knows I hate being taken unawares, especially for stuff like this. For reason unknown to me…oh, I remember, she came to harass me in my room! I went down to see what “program” she had. Turns out it was the showing of a movie. Recently, with a re-vamped space which has a big screen and cushy sofas, our lounge beats any cinema I can think of. 

     The setting was in Islamic-looking village, with Middle-Eastern looking characters.  The lady’s husband wanted a new wife. Even though he could marry two wives under Islamic laws, he could not afford it financially. The lady refused to grant him a divorce. Her daughters meant nothing to him. He was only concerned about turning her sons against her. Also, the 14year old girl he wanted to marry was his priority. It came at a price though. He had to find a way to reverse the death penalty charge on the little girl’s father who was under his care in the prison he worked in. Also, he had to find a way to get rid of her, his wife.

     Opportunity came when a villager’s wife died, leaving behind a young son.  It was decided that the lady would henceforth help them with household chores. He spurred the rumor mill, saying she, the lady, his wife, was dating the new village widow. He convinced and threatened the village widower to testify against her. Together with the village “Mullah” they connived and got a verdict against her. When the lady was called, she was asked to prove her innocence. She was told that when a man accuses his wife of adultery, she has to prove her innocence while when a woman accuses her husband of adultery, she has to prove his guilt. It was a no win situation for her. She was sentenced to death.

     Death by stoning.

     Her father was the first to cast a stone. Next was her husband. Followed were her sons.  Or something along that line. In any case, they were family.

     A day after her stoning, the little girl’s father was executed.  The lady’s husband could not marry the little girl anymore; he had not been able to uphold his part of the bargain. The village widower in anger, spat out that he had threatened and asked the man to what effect the lady’s stoning was now.

Was there anything done in way of punishment for the lying widower?

Was there anything done to punish the evil husband?

Was there anything done to punish the conniving Mulllah?

The answer to all these is  NO.

It is a man’s world. *sad smile*

She was Soraya Manutchehri, an Iranian woman, wrongly accused of adultery, by a man she bore 4 children for; 2 sons and 2 daughters.

YOU, should see the movie……….Happy Women’s Day.

This is My Story 3

For the previous part to this post, check here.

I felt really bad for the air hosts and hostesses. There was no way for them to be effective in their dispensing of duties considering the throng of Nigerian passengers lining the plane aisles. Several announcements were made for them to get back to their seats, for where? No disrespect to my Ibo people, but boy, were they loud or were they loud?! You would almost think you were at Alaba market! Not to mention the women with kids on board. Other passengers were deliberately avoiding sitting with them. Did I blame them?  Not really? Those kids could be loud and unruly sometimes. But I probably would be too if I was 0-9/10 years old and had to be confined in a metal box for several hours. Matter of fact, add grouchy and touchy to the list.

Since myself and my sister were forming “non-Nigerian-language-speaking” personas. We just took in the whole scenery. I know you are already judging me.  But really, I had no interest in recounting my abroad experience with an overzealous elderly man who has been living in the states for donkey years and has one or two (make that hundred) things to say to me about being a Nigerian in diaspora..uhgggg. So, we let them think we spoke no Nigerian language. After we were told to turn off all appliances, my sister remembered that she had left her ipad on while in layover. So, she brought it out to turn off. Only for this man in the next aisle to say “ awon omo yi sha, se ko gbo wipe won ni ki won pa nkan ni? Won a saa ma se bi kini” (These kids, did she not hear to turn off appliances. They just act so silly).

MISTAKE OF THE DEVIL!!!!!

Increasingly, I am realizing that I am the nice one. Ngor, my sister can be a reaaaalll beyatch (excuse my French). Now it was bad enough that this man was pretty much insulting her. He was even worse off for saying it in Yoruba, which is a language we chew, sleep in, wake up in , drink and whateverelsehaveyou! She turned, looked him straight in the eyes and said, “it is usually better for  folks not to comment on issues they have no knowledge about. You, have no idea why I brought it out, so, next time, keep your comments to yourself” with a baddass incline in her voice. Now,  Ngor is not a small person. Me sister na big gal (not fat) with an attitude. Combine that with a baddass voice inflection and what you get is a pretty scared recipient. The guy just pamu for hin side! I was in hysterics.

Later in the journey, I said something to Ngor and decided to say it in Yoruba. Oh boy!!! The guy in front of me almost hit his head against the window in a bid to whip his head fast enough to ascertain that the sentence came from one of us. So yeah, we had them going…..”non-Nigerian-language-speaking-my-ass”!!!

Lagos my Lagos

My first sign was the scantily lit sight from above. I thought to myself…. “Lasgidi my lasgidi!!! Now my heart is at rest (almost) because I am pretty sure of where I am now!” I had smiles for all the customs officers. I had a valid reason. My passport had expired a day before the trip so I had gotten an Emergency Travel Cert. Knowing my people, I was pretty sure they were gonna give me a hard time. So with several words of prayer and smiles like a chesire cat, I approached them. I had to go with some guy to register myself and he asked me the dumbest questions ever! 

Question	Answer I would have loved to give
When did you leave?	**See jamb question o!!** Heloo….there’s a stamp on that passport you are holding, isn’t there?
How old are you	As old as Metuselah. I do believe that is also contained in that little book you are holding.

….amongst other questions! If it was the American checkpoint, I would be sure they were just trying to ascertain that I was indeed the owner of the passport. But for this guy, I was sure he just couldn’t read.

Customs hurdle crossed, I marched down to the carousel to pick up our bags. You people know there are just two, so Ngor and I picked one each (As we used a bag that could be easily picked up by someone else). Two hours after we were still waiting for our bags. When the last of the bags dropped, I silently blessed my family friend’s heart for insisting that we throw a couple of clothes in our hand-luggage. Did I listen fully?....er….r.r.r.r.  Nope!

After filling out the form for missing bags, we couldn’t wait to get the first whiff of warm Naija air.  I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to find YY in the army of people by the door. While still looking totally lost coupled with all those gbeborun stares, I heard my YY, my own very YY ***nostalgic*** call me by his pet name for me.**smiles** I think my heart must have done a few seconds of tap dance, as I have no recollection of how I went from where I was into dumping my 170pound self on him. He looked tired (he had come right from work from another state), but nothing else had changed!!! **not fair!!!** I am not really a PDA person, but I think I must have deep-throated his tongue right there! I just kept mumbling “oh-my-gawd”. Ngor interrupted the moment by announcing that she was yet to be hugged.

I was on high and euphoric as we drove into the night.

Typing this, I am still mumbling “oh-my-gawd” and feeling euphoric.

dazzlejunction.com

PS: For those who called me out on my last post concerning YY; Mrs Newlywed and Koinonia, I have one exclamation, "Damn, you guys are good"....i was just being my overtly dramatic self in that last paragraph, I was pissed at him and had told him to eff off in anger.  *sigh* the guy knows my mumu buttons, so needless to say the "overness" was only on the tip of my tongue and a rant. Thanks to all those who commented, I really appreciate it.  Thank You

Cast Away Your Sorrow

Hi people, thanks for all your comments especially on my last post. Yeah, I am apparently still yet to learn my lesson on LDR,!!! *sigh*

Anyway, while internet surfing, I found these, it might seem long, but I promise, it will be worth it. It is funny as heck, yet still a serious matter. Listen well to the disclaimer o.

Oh the hilarity!!!
Oya say something, all my Adelakuns, Danladis and Nwosus....:)



** all videos were gotten from youtube.com**