Got till it’s gone

As a child I was a massive Janet Jackson fan, I loved everything she did and still do. I thought she was absolutely fantastic and knew the lyrics to most of her songs, which wasn’t an easy feat cos Miss Jackson isn’t the most audible when she sings. One of my absolute favs was “Got Til It’s Gone” even at my very young age I knew those lyrics had a lot of depth. It made me think, you see I had just gone through the horrific experience of changing secondary schools, I had lost all my popularity, and went from being known by all to not being known at all. Yes, Janet I completely understand.

The more I have grown the more Miss Jackson's words ring true. For those who don’t know the full line, it is “Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone”. Just think about it, how many times have these words, rang true in our lives, from primary school when we lost TV privileges for being naughty or in secondary school when we were sent to summer school and all day playing was not an option anymore. To university when you realize Garri costs money, to NYSC were I am sorry 32 people in a room is simply not acceptable, to finally getting into the job market and you finally truly realize the value of money.

Each time it is like Miss Jackson is singing to us in the background. Well sometimes she might be louder than others; finally being responsible for buying petrol in your car is not funny. Having fully accepted this theory in my life, sometimes I wonder why we as humans do not just appreciate things when we do have it.

For example, if I have 10 million why do I not relish in the moment and enjoy the security it provides, why do I have to wait until that 10 million becomes N500, 000 before I remember the good old days where I did not have to worry about cash. Why oh why, but I guess if I knew the answer to that I would be richer than I am now.  Hmmm, I think that will be a good topic for another day why am I not Dangote rich?

Finally, I would like to apologize for my radio silence; it was due to health reasons. Thanks to those who checked up on me the entire time, I have good family and friends. Shout out to my mum who called me 50 times a day, a daughter never felt so loved. And last but definitely not the least to the number one person in my life by dear hubby, a girl can only dream of such love, care and kindness. I truly love you.

When they go low, we go high

A friend recently asked me to watch Michelle Obama’s speech at this year’s democratic convention. After what seemed like forever to her, I finally gave in and watched it and guys it was amazing like seriously it was amazing. Please if you haven’t seen it, you need to see it; it is worth all 17 minutes.

There were so many key moments in the speech but none stood out to me as much as this statement “When they go low, we go high”. I am not sure why this stuck or why I was able to relate to it very much but I just do. The more I think about it now, I think it is because as you get older the things of the world do not seem to matter as much.

As usual, I will give you an example when I was younger quite a few things used to bother me. Let’s say I text you and you never text back or I allowed you to use my cooking spoon but you did not return the favor. All these things seemed so shocking to me and this led to many arguments. Fast forward many years later and it isn’t as bad as I thought I can comfortably deal with all these issues without even raising an eyebrow.

But what about the bigger ones, you know the ones that actually leave you speechless sometimes. The ones that make you question everything you thought you knew about the person. How are you able to go high when they go low? How are you able to turn the other cheek when it didn’t feel like a slap but more of an uppercut to your perfect jawline? How do you move forward?

I weirdly found the answer when I was being unfairly treated. It was on my recent trip to Mexico, Mexico is a beautiful country, with some of the loveliest people in the world. I recommend you all visit. So I and my sister were driving trying to get to our destination when we got stopped by the police. Apparently, we were speeding, now before we left we had asked about the speed limit, we were told nobody obeyed the limit and there were no cameras. And the way people were driving, let me just tell you I was the slowest person on the road. But there was this police officer telling me otherwise.

To cut the long story short, we had to tip the police officer to let us go with a warning. Normally I would not condone this but I did not want to be stuck dealing with the Mexican Police, so when in Rome do as the Romans do. As we were about to leave, the police officer in question asked us where we were heading and we found out that we were miles off our destination and gave us the correct directions.

This whole incident left me torn, should I be mad that I was wrongfully stopped and had to part with my precious pesos or should I be grateful that I got the right directions got to my destination and stopped $300 worth of activities go down the drain.

Yeah, I can feel you all being torn. I will help you out a bit remember that say “In every disappointment, there is a blessing in disguise” well I was able to see my blessing. That is probably why I can relate to Michelle’s words, the way I see it is rather than let the attitudes of others bring you low and turn you into something you are not, why not raise above it, look for the blessing in it and go high. Remember in every setback there is an opportunity.

The art of patience

Growing up in Nigeria the one thing that I learnt from an early age was “Aggression”. It is a dog eat dog world out there and every Nigerian is determined not to carry last in everything. Your training in the science of aggression begins at primary school where if Tunde took your biscuits you were expected to outsmart Tunde and get it back.

Surviving primary school meant you were ready for phase two of your training, how to avoid being bullied at junior secondary school and how to become the bully at senior secondary. And then you enter the final phase how to navigate the murky waters of university where the ability to be aggressive or in Nigerian terms “Be Sharp” is a baseline requirement.

But what happens when we enter the real world and aggression really isn’t needed. Have we ever thought what it would be like if rather than rushing for that bus we just queued up and got in one after the other or if we just allowed a car to change lanes without thinking he/ she thinks we are mugu’s. For one I know I would not have to paint the bumper of my car every 6 months and I would not mind taking the bus, I really just cannot handle people rushing like that is the last seat in the world.

I guess all of this comes with the Nigerian hustle spirit, but have we considered the cost of this hustle spirit. When a way of life is instilled in you from a very young age how can you learn to switch it off when the situation requires it. I will give you an example, Mama Segun and Mama Bola share a car. Mama Segun uses it in the morning, Mama Bola in the afternoon. One day Mama Segun takes the car all day long and comes back in the night, Mama Bola is livid; her “Be Sharp” senses have been activated cue the aggression.

Now I know what most people would say “Yes now, why did she do that” but have we ever 

considered what exactly could have happened. There are a billion possibilities but if we have our “Be Sharp” senses activated how can we listen and most importantly understand. We should all listen to understand and not to reply.

A very wise man once told me “It only takes seconds” this was when he was teaching me to navigate the unique roads in Lagos. I really think this is why my road incidents where limited to bumper scratches and dents (Is it odd that all my dent incidents where from public transportation vehicles, one from a taxi, another danfoe and there was the keke nepe incident).  

I really think as Nigerians we should practice that, rather than trying to constantly outsmart the next person and be sharp, why don’t we all accommodate one another and exercise a little patience. One thing is for sure panel beaters would have more free time on their hands.  

Is it still on

Growing up in Nigeria my perception of what I wanted to be when I grew up changed all the time. How I ended up doing what I do is a story I am fed up of telling. It started out with me wanting to be a lawyer, shout out to Ally Macbeal for inspiring me and shout out to social studies for killing that dream.

If social studies could barely hold my attention, how would all the lawyer type subjects. Then there was my engineering phase, now I am starting to think I wanted to be an engineer because well there was lack of creativity in possible occupations in Nigerian secondary schools. It was rare if non-existent to hear someone say I would like to be an insurance broker. Everyone was either a lawyer, doctor or an engineer or when rogue and said Business Man or Woman.

Somewhere along the line when my interests started to set in, I decided my dream career was to be a movie critic. I was and still am to a large extent a movie junkie. I thoroughly enjoy a good movie and in my hay day would have seen 8 of the top 10 movies in the country. Now not so much…  Back then I loved all movies and I did not show prejudice to origins, Hollywood, Bollywood, Gollywood and Nollywood where all game.

But despite my best attempts not to show prejudice it didn’t last long, you see the Nollywood movies would just not end. Now I am not attacking the storylines, some were actually good but why do I need to watch part 1 – 4 just to get the entire story. Like come on why so long. But it wasn’t just that it didn't end, it got worse. Some movies are justified to have to be that long (SOME!!!!) but why must 20 minutes of the start of part two be the last 20 minutes of part one, why must 20 minutes of the start of part three be the last 20 minutes of part 2 and so on. Come on!!!

It gets worse, why must the first 15 minutes of each part be adverts of other movies and why must the man speaking in the adverts be screaming. I can hear just fine I don’t need you to scream. And why do I need to watch 15 minutes of a club scene or swimming pool scene 20 seconds of that and I get the picture, I do not need anything longer.

With all this and so much more, you can understand why I finally gave up on Nollywood it was simply breaking my heart. That was until someone tempted me. So I went to get my hair done, braids and you all know how long it takes to get it done (well at least the women do). My hair stylist was prepared, she had picked a movie (Nollywood of course) to entertain us. The next 6 hours went in a blur between the movie and gossiping talking I did not notice much time I gone by.

As I decided seen as I really enjoyed my Nollywood experience I should give it a try again.  I am going to start with the good points, it was a good story line very entertaining, there was no more the end of one part is the first 20 minutes of the other and general all round production had improved.

Now to the bad, first it is no longer called part 1, part 2 etc. but season 1, season 2 etc. (how does this make sense). Second an additional season has been added so it went up to 5, third must the bad guy always die at the end, how about a shock ending and the bad person escapes and lives a fulfilled life, fourth I really do not need to see 20 minutes of dancing, fifth I think I should just stop here I will just go on and on..

My final verdict, Nollywood movies although very entertaining are just too damn long, it took an entire braiding session to complete one movie. That is 6 hours!!! 6 hours to watch one movie na series!!!

To Experience the Unknown

I would like to first apologize for my two weeks of radio silence, blame it on the H-O-L-I-D-A-Y!!!!  Yes that is right, I decided to rest my tired bones and lay in the rays of the eternal sunshine, soaking its nourishing rays and chasing away the tired lines from my eyes. Well I did that for about 20 minutes then I got up and decided not to waste anymore of my vacation time sleeping. I CAN SLEEP WHEN I GET HOME!!!

This is a philosophy myself and hubby have been disagreeing on for years, his idea of a holiday is to lie in bed all day and sleep. Now those who know me well, know that I am a champion sleeper, as in I can sleep. If sleeping were an Olympic sport I would probably be a 10 time Olympic champion with an array of medals, but sadly it is not, so no medals for me. Anyway back to my ramble, hubby can sleep pass me when on holiday, for him it is bliss for me it is the most annoying thing ever!!!

Like seriously why would I pay some serious $$$$ to go and lie down in a bed and sleep. Tafiapa NEVER!!! The gods shall not permit me (OK OK I know that was too dramatic) but you get my gist holidays are for experiencing the unknown and not exploring the many different dimensions of the land of dreams. I can tell that you’re not convinced, so to move you to my side let me tell you a story.

Hubby and I once visited the beautiful island of Zanzibar, trust me you all have to go, it was amazing. After a week of adventure and a little too much lounging it was time to head back home. So we woke up at stupid o’clock to catch a flight at stupid o’clock. It actually felt like I was being asked to go clubbing, I was just turning up extra fashionably late. After groggily making our way to the counter and fighting an army of ninja mosquitoes, we were informed that our flight was cancelled. Our options were, one head back into town and enjoy one more day on the island or two visit the land of the Lion King for one day. Call me Indiana Jones because I chose to meet Simba.

I had it all planned out, I would spend the afternoon exploring and the evening out having dinner at an authentic Kenyan Restaurant. This was going to be epic, or  so I thought, the reality was it was so not epic. Firstly, our flight was delayed so I had to fight those ninja mosquitoes for a few more hours. When we finally got to Nairobi we spent way to long in the airport because well our bags where scheduled to spend the night in the airport, I still don't know how that made any sense to the airport staff. Like seriously, was I meant to spend the next 48 hours in the same clothes. Then we had to apply for a transit visa (did you all know that you can apply for your visa on arrival in Kenya) and to crown it all we were placed on a staff bus to wait forever before being taken to the hotel.

By the time we made it into the hotel room the day was all but gone, my Indiana Jones spirit had left me and I was ready to embrace my Olympic spirit. But Indiana Jones was not ready to give up, after a top up of well-deserved non authentic Kenyan food; she was back in full force. The adventure was on, Nairobi here I come. I just need my trusty side kick… Oh crap don’t tell me he is sleeping, you have got to be joking. Yes hubby was sleeping on the bed with no intention of standing up, talk about a kill joy.

But not to bother all heroes begin without a side kick, so Indiana Jones is going to have to do this alone. It might be dangerous, scary, in the dead of the night but it is still an adventure worth having. LOL!!! It was just me in a registered taxi, sight-seeing at night. I did not get to see any elephants but I did see somethings I am not able to talk about on this blog. Why, because it’s top secret.

Whilst I did not get to meet Simba or try authentic Kenyan food (whatever that may be) I still got to meet the people and discovered that they truly love Nollywood (now I feel bad about my next week’s post) and Nigerian women way more than what I expected. I think I would count this as an excellent adventure, experiencing the unknown and well worth the reward of my newly acquired fridge magnet. WHAT!!!!I did step out of the four walls of the airport I deserve one.

If I had a super power

I have been asked this question so many times over the years and even though my answer would change ever so often I think I eventually picked one. I started off wanting to be the cheeky spiderman. Then I changed my mind and decided that I wanted to be the all in one superman and then there was my batman phase. Come on he was super cool but finally I realized that there was only one real superpower I wanted. The power to fly!!! It wasn’t like I was going to be fighting bad guys so why not use my powers to benefit myself. Taking out the cost of plane tickets I could go on as many trips as I wanted. Just think this weekend Brazil, the next Spain and maybe eventually Australia.

But right now I am not so sure, if I had a super power right now, honestly I would just want the power to duplicate myself. I think I would want like 2 to 3 clones. I can hear some of you asking me why already, so ok grab some popcorn; let me tell you a story.

So before I decided to say I do, there were two things I was not worried about the first well let’s not go there, maybe one day I will write about that. But let us just say I was so wrong about that. The second, well the second was my ability to “keep a house”.

When I was 13 my mother did the cruelest bestest thing to the entire family, she got rid of the maid. So within the blink of an eye my days of lounging on Saturday mornings and having everything done for me was over!!!. I loathed loved my mother for this and without much of a choice had to adjust to the new regime. I did this so well that when I began a new adventure at the age of 16, keeping a house was no big deal, I was proud to say “I gat this.”

The next 10 years just proved my point I had gone from living alone to living with family to moving back to the family home and each move was without a maid. People nobody was badder than me, I was the queen of keeping a house. So if this is true why is it that now I feel like this big medium small house, is disgracing me and winning? Like honestly there are not enough hours in the day to keep this annoying thing clean.

What happened to all my skills, they can’t have just disappeared? Ok I think it is time to be like inspector gadget and do some investigations. Let’s start at the beginning, when I was 13, yes there was no maid but if I am honest there was Uncle Friday who did the laundry (ironically on Fridays :D) and Uncle Johnson who did all the driving and there was Iya Wale who well help with most of the shopping so really I wasn’t doing much. Ok bad example onto the next one.

When I moved out, let’s be very critical I really was only responsible for myself and one room, while at college one room, at university one room, even when I moved back with my siblings I was responsible for one room and myself. This is not looking good.

Ok when I moved back into the family house, I did a lot more there. Well yes but then there was Mr Abbey who did most of the shopping and 60% of the driving, the other 30% was done by hubby then boyfriend. Then there was Uncle Charles who not only did the laundry but cleaned the house too and then was Umoru who did the gardening, menial tasks in the house and well made sure I never had to open or close the gate. So really I did almost nothing!!!

Choi!!!!! How exactly did I once believe I was really good at keeping a house, I clearly have no experience. It is looking like I am going to need atleast one Uncle Charles and Mr Abbey to survive, this life is clearly too hard. I can’t even keep nail polish on my fingers. What!!! A girl can dream.

I can change

So a friend of mine and I were having this thought provoking conversation about how we are both super stars in turning up late for everything. And I mean literally everything, you name it and I will be late. The most classic one (or one of the most classic ones, there are too many to choose from) is being late for a boat party and being responsible (or partly I was not the only one late) for the boat having to veer off course and head back to shore. Yes I am important like that.

It is not like I want to be late; I really do start off with good intentions but then somehow the evil fairy that makes children lose track of time sprinkles her fairy dust on me and then what do you know I am running late.

This has happened so many times that another friend sent this to me.

Now I would be and I should be so upset but the problem is that this is beyond true so I just gave in and signed my name at the bottom of the page. However, having this conversation with the first friend let’s say friend A, got me thinking, is it possible to free myself from the evil clutches of the late fairy. According to friend A, person is still capable to accomplishing a 360 degree turn in their character so we should not give up.

Now I can completely relate to friend’s A thinking, I myself have experience 360 degree changes in myself, sometimes these changes are small, others are big and others actually change the core of who you are as a person. But there was a common denominator in all these changes; “The occurrence of an event.” Think it about there usually is one life altering event that takes place that finally makes a person want to change.

But then what if there is no event, does this mean that I will not be able to change, does this mean that the age old saying that “A leopard can never change his spots” comes true. Will I be a late colored leopard and what will a late colored leopard look like… I imagine it will be bright a mixture of yellows, oranges, blues, reds and a dash of black. Ok that just sounds like a neon rainbow. The leopard will probably just be red… Ok red and black I can live with that

So what do you guys think, can a person change without a life altering event or does something mega dramatic have to happen. In my case maybe finally missing my flight and having to pay something like $2000 will set me straight… hmmmm… maybe.

I would also like to know what you guys think a late colored leopard will look like. Let’s be as creative as a toddler … This is me out!!!

Is Age Really Just a Number

We all know the saying “Age is nothing but a number” but I want to ask the question we all dare to ask… Is it really? Ok bear with me a second and see where I am heading to. So a good friend gave me some explosive gist recently and NO!!!! I am not going to share the details. But basically he/she was contemplating doing something that was not him/her (hahaha I am keeping you people guessing). So anyway the person in question was asking what to do and I in my infinite wisdom announced that age is nothing but a number and caution should be thrown to the wind. But now I find myself asking is this really so.

Even though we all claim that age does not define our actions it is infact the defining criteria for a lot of things. For example, age determines when we should start school, when it is acceptable to have a boyfriend/ girlfriend, when we should become more social and the big one when we should have our s**t together. The list goes on and on, with such a long list on age side should we really be ignoring it.

Let me give you a more direct example. 10 years ago (Oh gosh I am getting old) just like many people my age I rocked many fads and one of those where the ever sexy bum shorts. I had many different varieties, the shorter the better. I never saw anything wrong with them and I wore them as often as I could. Fast forward 10 years later and it is like I don’t use to be thinking like that anymore.

This is what happened I dusted out one of my regular shorts, paired it with a casual t-shirt and started to strut my stuff as I normally would but something was different. I suddenly noticed this vast layer of flesh on display and omo I was uncomfortable like I really just wanted to take them off.  I tried to invoke the spirit of my early youth (yes I said it… I am still young) but even that failed me. Finally I decided to shock myself back to my old self, so I decided to step outside with hubby in my shorts. And well that back fired, I spent the whole time hiding in the car, hoping no one could see me.

So back to my ultimate question is age really just a number? Just a year ago I had no issues strutting my stuff in my shorts and now well now I am running for the hills.  What happened, did society finally influence me, did the enemy poison my mind against shorts, did I outgrow my shorts or did I just get to old to wear shorts. And if that is the case how long will it be before age starts to influence more than my willingness to show skin.

I mean the list could be endless. Just think could I one day become those women we all dread, you know those women that go about with an invisible ruler, measuring the length of everyone skirts and scolding men for showing their underwear to the world. Scratch that I already think I am that woman, men!!!! there should be no reason to show your underwear to the world, it is just not it. Please stop.

Ok that is enough from me, what do you guys think is age really just a number, or do we just lie to ourselves to give us a loop hole to do the things we want to do. Please let me know your thoughts. As for me I think it’s time to retire the bum shorts.

The Consequences of a Plus One - Part Two

I know what you are all thinking, where is part one, well I wrote part one like 3 years ago and maybe one day I’ll share it with you guys. So let’s get started, today I am writing about a topic that I have seen happen to so many people that I should not be shocked that this happened to me, but here I am doing 100 squats a day trying to reverse this atrocity that has occurred. Yes that is right I am talking about weight gain, to be specific “Post Wedding Weight Gain”.

Being a plus size child, you cannot begin to imagine how excited I was when I finally lost the weight, nothing gave me greater joy than being able to shop from the front of the rack. Oh happy days… And because I was so happy I did my very best to stay that way. Yes I yo-yoed over the years, I would go up then come down, go up then come down multiple times, but nothing gave me greater joy than the fact I was always a stable size no matter what.

So you can imagine my horror when I tried on one of my dresses and it would not fit. And by that I mean it did not go down my hips. I remember that moment clearly, I thought myself this has to be a mistake, something must be caught somewhere, this dress cannot not fit me. #sniff. But alas I was lying to myself the dress did not fit and I had to face my reality. I had gained weight.

Trust me I came up with a plan, this weight was going to disappear just like the other times it is nothing I cannot handle. Omo I was wrong oh.. one month into my elaborate plan and I had gained even more weight choi.. the devil can like to be a liar.. this weight will disappear by force or by fire. But nothing I tried seemed to work and was almost giving up when it came to me like 3 women gossiping discussing on a dining table well because that is how it happened, “THE MEN ARE TO BLAME”!!!!!

Humour me for a second, post saying “I do”, we women are usually in the peak of our physical condition with Hot! Hot!! Hot!!! Bodies, everything is as it should be. Then we say “I do” and next thing we know that belly start to protrude and those hips are looking hipper (yes it is a word). And what is the key difference, these men that eat 3 square meals a day, making us eat more, these men that want to cuddle after every meal, which makes us less active. These men with bigger portion sizes that we unconsciously use as our new basis so our portion sizes get bigger. These men that make eating ice cream and other junk food ok, so we do it too. #crying this is so unfair…

Anyway there is no use crying over spilt milk, I made my bed or in this case I put the spoon in my mouth so now I have to deal with it. The only solace I can get from this is that it is slowly happening to them too. I can see that belly starting to form under that shirt… mwhahahahaha. Ok back to reality and my squats… Kia!!! 100 squats, I better get started 100..99..98..97..96..95..