Wednesday, 16 August 2017

They are humans, too.


I woke up this morning with a headache. A roommate and a friend of hers were so ‘jobless’ they started talking about celebrities. I mean this so called friend left her room to gossip about a celebrity and they viewed the man in question instagram page and one picture tag led to another and well, all this scream and shouts right up in my ears.

I don’t follow gossip blogs. I respect what they do; how some of them write page(s) on some matters is beyond me at times. The eloquence, passion and badass captions especially cracks me up, but it's not something I see myself doing anytime soon. I want news. I want to be informed but I don’t want to know how baby mama No. 8 of a celebrity got hooked with another celebrity and how they might now be having an affair; and since it's so soon after she and the former celebrity called their relationship quit, the latter celebrity might just be the cause, let's not forget that an "insider" just gave out the info that both celebrities engaged in a brawl last month on some undisclosed matters, I don’t want to know why Tuface and Annie Idibia might have kissed on the red carpet; nothing special about that. I don’t want to hear about the supposed relationship of Simi and Adekunle Gold but how you all think Falz might be the right man for her. The list is endless. It’s their life. That line of thought wears me out, no kidding.

I am made to remember a former roommate express disappointment because an actress had married someone younger than her. I recall her repeatedly calling the lady a fool. She said the lady in question should have had “more sense” after all she has been through. I know there is a supposed freedom of speech and all, but after a while, I couldn’t take it no more. She had made it her sole purpose to rant about the issue literally every day. A talk on something as trivial as "why ladies shouldn't wear bras to bed" or "why strict parents become 'cool' grandparents" almost always led to another where she’d bring the matter up again. I then asked her if the actress did not deserve to love and to be loved ‘after all she has been through’, she evaded my question and she stood her ground, insisting she had expected more.

I have come to discover that fans feel they have the right to how public figures are to live their lives. Reminds me of last weekend when Lil Kesh was in my school for ALATIFE and even before his arrival, some guys had already concluded that they weren’t going to allow him perform if he didn’t “settle” the boys. Trust me when I say these were fellow students like me and not some touts. Apparently, without support from “the boys”, He wouldn’t be where he is today.

It’s sad that we live by gossips. Remove gossip from most relationships and what they talk about will reduce by a whopping 65 percent. Anyways, the next time you are looking down on a public figure, talking down or mocking such, remember they are humans like you and me. These people bleed red too. That they know more people or better still, that more people know them than they know you doesn’t make either of you less human. They also go through all the phases and stages that make us human. More money in their account doesn’t mean they don’t get to have emotions. They too get angry, sad, and moody: they have feelings and they have every right to express it.

Oh! Did I mention that that "celebrity" might be that 'grumpy' doctor you see every other day, that postman who never smiles or even that kid who hawks fruits but always seem to be sad? These people who engage in these seemingly "little" but life changing acts are everyday heroes, and taking five minutes or less to engage them in small talks might just help brighten their day.

Monday, 7 August 2017

Living and Single...


I don't know how you people do it; I mean those of you in a relationship. It's hard enough for me to share my space with roommates not to speak of sharing my heart with someone. LOL.

Being single has its own pitfalls and advantages. I know because I'm there. Especially when you have crazy friends like myself, literally, every thing that happens to you is because you are not dating. For example, if for some reasons you do not make your hair, it's because you do not have a boyfriend. If you make it, it's because you are ready to put yourself out; whatever that is supposed to mean. LOL. If you don't go out, you are not putting yourself out enough, make expensive hair or get anything expensive; thanksgiving time: You have a boyfriend already and didn't want them to know; how could you?

I understand how really handsome guys feel when they tell people they are single and they get the scornful look; yeah! I'm not just insinuating that I'm beautiful: I am. For most people, every handsome guy is a fuck boy and therefore cannot be single. Why should I tell anyone I'm single and they look at me like I just peed myself or broke a world record. Excuse me my friend, "Is it your single?"

Days when the association of friends call meetings are usually the toughest because you never know its a meeting to start with, neither do you know you are the agenda for the day. Oh! And if by chance you attend someone's wedding with these peeps, you'd start hearing about how good you'd look in a wedding dress and how much fun they are gonna have at your wedding; I'm like "You say what? I'm not inviting your asses to "MY" wedding. I want a small private wedding." Ehn! Never! They already picked out the caterer, event planner, aso ebi and the likes for a wedding that is not even theirs to start with. Oh! Did I mention they already picked out the "evergreen" song that will be played too? Phew! What to do with these people?

These friends (especially the ladies) are willing to let go of their "pride"; and ask a guy out on your behalf; something they detest, as they prefer the guy being the one to make the first move. For you, they'd do just about anything to get you off the market. One thing I have learnt: Be not deceived, they never give up.

Oh! If you have a close male pal, you are in trouble. If by any chance He's cute, "more trouble". You'd hear tales of how you shouldn't friend zone and how to get Him out of the friend zone. What I've learnt? Never never argue with them or try to assure them that you are "just friends". Just go along with the flow.

What's more than living single and having crazy friends? That would be being single and being Nigerian (African). Nigerian mothers especially the "over-zealously spiritual" ones will tell you dating is against God's will, don't date until you graduate, blah blah blah but expect you to bring home a 'husband' the day after graduation.

Never ever let a friend know you are going on a date. My dear, all they'd think of is "date" "date" "date": Finally. They did play dress up like no man's business. If they are fortunate to see you outside and with a guy, they did give you the "you better do normal" look: Like, don't screw this up for us. Anything to get you off the single life hook.

I love my life as a woman; it's the greatest gift I've been accorded, but when it comes to being single, I envy guys because they can almost always get away with it without all the questions, tags, advice (both necessary and unnecessary, appropriate and not). So if you are single like me, never succumb to pressure: Live your life and do you.

If you are ready to mingle but nobody is ready to mingle with you; dress more, go out more often, be more open, pray, let go and let God. However, before you consider a relationship with someone, build a relationship with yourself, develop a greater self esteem and grow yourself. For singles out there, keep your calm, be single and gay; those in relationships should to. So if your relationship isn't making you happy, "GET OUT!!!"

Sunday, 30 July 2017

Feelings happen.

Yesterday night I was down... Really down. You might say moody but I might have to beg to disagree. Please don't give what I felt any unnecessary names or medical terms I would care less about. It came out of nowhere and caught up on me. I shouldn't be feeling that way I scolded myself. I've had a wonderful Saturday; one well spent thanks to Barakat Tiamiyu who put together an OPENCON event on "Empowering the Next Generation to OPEN ACCESS, OPEN EDUCATION and OPEN DATA" which I was fortunate to have registered for and attended. I had fun. I had a good laugh. I learnt new things. I had kept myself updated on old ones. It was amazing. And no!!! I didn't mix with any new faces, didn't make new friends. The one I could have made lied.

OK! Here is what happened. We met at the entrance of the john, after we both were through with our businesses, we got chatty; random things... He asked for what I did when I'm free and I said, writing. He didn't say anything. I mentioned photography and he got chatty again. OK! maybe He didn't hear me the first time so we were cool. Plus I wasn't really interested in talking to him. He was trying to make conversations I didn't even care about. So about lying, He asked for my number, and I gave him, then He called for my phone and asked to input his, I obliged him. While inputting the number, He then started excuses I had no business with, more so, lies as he was speaking in a different pitch and he wasn't speaking as confident as he was speaking before anymore. He spoke of how he no longer frequently uses his number so he doesn't recharge often and how...blah blah blah. None of which was my business, just enter your number my heart screamed while I outwardly smiled and murmured, OK.

I got back from there and had a crazy craving for pounded yam. I told a friend and we decided to go to the Cafeteria. We got to one of the restaurants there in and I asked if pounded yam was available and they said it was. Myself and my friend engaged in small talks, none of which I was really into, I told her. All I could think of was food, food, food. I'm hungry. After about 25 minutes, the waiter came back, pounded yam is no longer available. I felt my bubble deflate. I was angry and sad. He asked me to eat rice like my friend, I was complacent. I never understand people who come to a restaurant to eat what they can eat every passing day in their homes; it's just beyond me. I'm the kind of girl who will go out with a guy on a first date and order for swallow, if not, I'm doing Shawarma or Pizza. I don't mind Ekuru (a local dish prepared from beans) or Egbo (another local meal made from dried corns); which takes a totality of about 6 hours to prepare if not more. You can call me local.

My friend ate her meal while I engaged her in the small talks I wasn't interested in at first. We then started the ultimate search for pounded yam, which we never found. By this time I was famished, I was ready to eat even stone. So, we entered into an almost empty restaurant and I settled for fries. I really couldn't taste the food, my taste bud was now "dead".

We went back to the hostel. We were wet, after deciding to walk in the drizzling rain, was fun though. After about two hours I started feeling terribly; all edgy and touchy. I called two friends who meant the world to me, none of them picked. I kept calling. I actually had nothing to tell them in particular. I just wanted to speak about "everything and nothing". Gift, the friend I had gone out with asked what the matter was and I told her nothing, I'm just "moody". She tried to cheer me up. I decided to sleep. I found it hard to, sleep eluded me. I couldn't read, couldn't sleep and wasn't interested in chatting with anyone. Watched a movie, still didn't work, but at least I was on a lighter note.

My point exactly? Sometimes these feelings just come, It doesn't mean you are horny and need to masturbate, or that you are going crazy. Or that you have finally been hit by cupid's arrow. Don't worry, you are absolutely normal and human too.

Saturday, 22 July 2017

The Sex Obsessed Generation - My YALIServes Experience


Hello there!

I can only hope you all missed my posts as much as I missed sharing my thoughts with you. The thing is my system had issues and is in intensive care, not sure she's going to make it (*sobs), then tests rolled in and then I got held up by laziness to type on my phone and share with you (as I did my last post) and then my phone got faulty (she's back though, and man, am I excited?)

For those interested in the world around them, you will know that July 18 is celebrated as Nelson Mandela's day. Who's Nelson Mandela? Well, he's a great South African icon who stood up for what he believed in. I'm sure google, Bing and other search engines will indulge you in details if you are interested.

So back to my YALI experience: YALI means Young African Leaders Initiative; an online community where young African Leaders meet to share ideas, rob minds and improve the world. You can also take courses for free, at will. My explanation does no justice to what goes on on YALI. Check for details on: https://yali.state.gov/whatisyali/. YALIServes is an avenue to give back to the community that has given so much to you. So, for our YALIServes event, a HIV/AIDs awareness program with free consultation and free testing was held in conjunction with NACA (National Agency for the Control of AIDs)

Ok! I’m stuck! Someone said: “Kris! You’re always stuck.” I laughed. Only if that wasn’t so true. I’m stuck with this generation, our generation. What can a man do?

Bare it in mind that even in this age and time, most people still believe the only way to contact HIV is through sex. I find that quite baffling.

I remember Irene (a sweet lady I met; a volunteer like myself) and I walking up to two guys and before we could even state our mission they took off on hearing HIV. I mean, they ran. We just stared at each other and laughed nervously. Were we shocked or surprised? I don’t know, maybe, both.


I remember seeing two “ladies”, 17 and 18 years of age or 16 and 17 years, jumping up excitedly and hugging each other like they just won an all expenses paid vacation trip for two to Paris, just because their test results were negative. I even overheard one telling the other how she was going to indulge her in a treat of her choice and I thought to myself; “What the heck? How old are you girls again? Just because your HIV status is negative?” I remember smiling almost wickedly at my thought when I thought, “You are safe only for the next three months though.”

I walked up to a guy and said, “Excuse me! Do you know your status?” He started fidgeting. He went on about how he had it in mind to go for the test because he was getting lean and how he was yet to summon the courage to actually go for it. I tried to convince him but he won’t budge, his countenance changed, he started sweating, he was scared; terrified maybe. He kept apologizing, saying he needs to clear his head. He said he would come back after “clearing his head”, I had to leave him, but not before I told him that he could go to the school health centre, or the hospital for testing. I didn’t see him.

There was this other guy who made it his duty to school me on how important it is to get tested. He said he does the test himself as he had HIV test stripes because he’s really active sexually and any lady that is not willing to use the condom, he makes sure she gets tested too. “I’m that protected”, he boastfully bragged. I just nodded and smiled. Inwardly I was cringing.


That's the generation I'm stuck with. A generation where a 15 year old in SS2 gets pregnant and is happy her parent took her for abortion (A true story). What the heck were the parents thinking of? I'm so sure that she will go again especially now that she knows where she can get the abortion done without her parents knowing. She probably won't learn until it's too late. Phew!

Busolami! If you ever read this, I owe this YALI experience to you. You are an amazing person and thanks for putting together the awesome event. You rock. And to all others who made this an unforgettable one I love you all.

P.S: Pardon the pictures quality.😊

Saturday, 1 July 2017

Struggles of a Shopaholic


The tingling sensation in my feet is not from walking too much
The sensation I feel on my wrist is not from typing too hard
That fragrance is not sweat mixed with cologne.



I can feel her kissing my fingers as she makes her way up to my neck, heeding my need, answering my every call. Hands brushed my hair backwards as she struggled to make her impact felt at my nape and temple, welling up feelings and emotions I hadn’t known I had. Others had welled up such emotions but this was different than the last and I’m sure less intriguing than the next. Lifting my hands up to my chest just to feel if this is actually real, trying to wake from this ‘dream’, hands trying to contain my welled up emotions like they could, brushed my hair back, straightening it out to frame my face. She might have a light feel, but I sure can feel her in my pockets: my necklace.

I am sick and my feet tingles. They are not tired from walking too much or from staying too long on my feet. I looked at them and smile, they sure are worth every penny, “Oh! What beautiful shoes?” I heard someone behind me exclaim, if only He knew my accounts were not looking so beautiful being painted in red. I feel so sick, but I just want to be ‘heeled’.

No! That sexy smell is not cologne mixed with sweat, neither is it sweat mixed with cologne, that’s how money smells when it is put on you.

My wrists should be insured. They worth a lot. I love watches, bracelets and bangles. I love the sound they make as they clank up against each other, singing sweet melodies; clank, clank, donk , clink, they sing, how I wish that’s my phone with credit alerts.

They say dress the way you want to be addressed, you attract “good people” that way, and that’s what I’ve been trying to do. A friend says the goal is to be rich and not just to look rich and I scoffed at her. I want to be both: be rich and look rich; but not necessarily in that order. So, on nights when my pockets scream ‘HELP’ and my stomach murmurs from lack of touch, I wear my designer shoe, clothes and matching jewelries and fill myself with that wonderful fragrance called perfume, and lie down while I hear the music of my heart breaking, and if I’m 'lucky' I might just receive another ring on my phone indicating a debit. In the morning, you’d think I would have been cured by the grieve from last night, but...

Monday, 26 June 2017

CONTACTS


As humans, one of the hardest things we have to do is keep in touch with each other. Meeting people is as easy as batting the eyes, you do not even have to try, keeping in touch? That’s another level entirely.

We need people and always will. From needing a referee to stand in for you on your job application to the waiter who comes to take your order, need is need. The latter might change soon though as the world is becoming more computerized, but even then, someone has to do the programming.

I dislike giving my number out to people, not because I am antisocial but I do not just want to feel any obligation more than I need to. I find it hard to save people’s number, even my roommates. Why you might ask? Saying “I am so sorry I haven’t been in touch, I did not have your number”; comes with a certain level of confidence than saying nothing. And nothing speaks volume.

I have a habit of checking up on all my contacts by messaging them (most times), or calling. (If you are sure you are on my contact list or you feel you should be and you never get my out of the blue ‘time out’ messages, the message probably wasn’t delivered, your number was not reachable or you are probably just not on the list). My friends more than most, so much I feel I am bugging them.

So, I did this routine thing recently and someone shocked me. He wasn’t his usual chatty self and I was more than eager to end the call. I then said “I just called to check up on you, take care.” He replied saying; “wow! I thought you needed a favour from me.” I said, “Noooo… just checking on you.” Reminiscing on the conversation though, I had seen him in less than two months and I was sure he has been fine. For our level of friendship, keeping in touch barely after two months of seeing each other was remarkable. If memory serves me right, he has not called or messaged me in about two years. All calls and messages in those two years has been from me. So why be a jerk? What stopped him from calling? (Please don't even annoy me).

As humans, one of the hardest things we have to do is keep in touch with each other. Meeting people is as easy as batting the eyes, you do not even have to try, keeping in touch? That’s another level entirely. Keeping in touch is hard: we are still trying to keep up with our environment; weather, sports, games, technology, but it is something we have to do. At times though, it is best to cut off some peeps. Life is too short to waste it hanging around people who wouldn't even care if you were dead. So the next time you pick up your phone, be sure to scroll through your contacts and message or call that person you have not called in a while; you will make their day I guarantee. Don’t be offended though if they do not know who is talking or who messaged them, politely reply; they moved on also, or maybe their phone was stolen.

Just remember, “There is a difference between the person you free your time to talk to and one you talk to in your free time.”

Sunday, 18 June 2017

MY SUPER UNCOOL DAD


I haven't got the coolest dad.
He is not the sweetest but He sure cooks sweet meals. He is not the greatest; He can barely even afford to fund my needs not to mention my wants. I am not a hype man so I would not hype him, even today, being father's day.

My dad is not the worlds' coolest dad, He shouts a lot,
My dad is not the worlds' coolest dad, He argues too much,
My dad is not the worlds' coolest dad, He gets angry easily,
My dad is not the worlds' coolest dad, He often jumps into conclusions;
My dad is not the worlds' coolest dad, He does too many un-cool things.

He coughs without using the handkerchief, He would rather use His old worn out towel to the new ones,He prefers 'pako' (chewing stick) to toothbrush, He'd rather go out without his car sometimes just so he wouldn't have to give the neighbours a lift, He laughs too hard (like me), He has lousy dancing steps, He cracks 'jokes' that ain't funny, He shouts even when he does not have to, He scoffs when my mom starts her drama, He would rather pretend to be sick than check up on the neighbours, He rarely parties, He doesn't smoke neither does he drink, He doesn't womanize also, He doesn't keep his beard since I do not like it. All superheroes are supposedly cool but not my dad; He is my 'uncool' superman.

My dad would not say do not smoke, He will tell you the repercussion of smoking, He will not tell you not to drink, He will tell and show you people who drink, as a girl child, you would expect Him to tell me not to party, but He never did. He gave me and my sisters the independent reins and allowed us make our own call and take consequences for our actions, little wonder he raised three independent ladies (maybe too independent; a post for another day).

It's easier to tell my dad things than my mom (Margaret Thatcher, but soft as jelly on the inside). It's easy to tell him that a guy asked me to send my account number and He will say, "send it", no questions, no probing, we are spending that money together, my mom on the other hand though... He did not just father me, He is a father to me. The only person that argues with me and I willingly keep quiet, my personal atm. We 'scam' my mom together (I pray she never reads this); He would give me #5,000 and tell me to tell my mom that He gave me #2,000 so she will add more.

He would say let me tell you something and start all the amebo in the world. My chief financial officer, baba awon girls, chief chef, award winning talker... No He's not the coolest dad in the world, but He's my hero. My dad is not just cool and I can't change that. 'Not so cool' would be giving him unnecessary credit, He's just un-cool, but I wouldn't even trade all that uncoolness for the world because that's what makes Him; MY DAD.