Have a great day, and be the best in all you do.
I hear these girls talk about how men should be castrated for beating women, more, the ones who torment their wives: who rape, beat, blackmail their women. I hear them tell stories about men who beat women as a hobby, of women who stay in their marriages not because of the love, but because of shame- because they do not want to be the laughing stock of the society.
I hear them suggest punishments- ‘killing the man would not do so much, because he won’t feel any pain’.
‘it’s better to cut him up all over his body, then add pepper in all the open wounds , then you can kill him afterwards’.
I hear them use famous people with bad marriages as an example, like the lady who showed the world on social media that she had a perfect marriage, until one day when she revealed to the same fooled world how she was a victim of battery and how all she had shown us that her husband had got for her was scripted. She was a good actor, on tv and in real life.
I hear them through my twenty-one year old ears.
I heard punches through my five year old ears- the ones from my dad to my mum. He was a very generous giver, he didn’t hold back. Through my five-year old eyes I saw my dad throw my mum into a gutter, drag her out and slam her against the wall. Yet, she stayed, because of us.
Some times, she fought back, some times she was too weak to do anything except block her eyes from his hands, so that all she had left that was not broken in her body were her eye balls- to look after us.
You might be wondering how I remember, I wonder too. Somehow, I think I grew up fast, because I already had grey hair in my mind, though I have not seen it on my head yet.
I hear them say these women are fools, and I hiss out loud. Because they are the fools.
I think new year resolutions are over rated.
Why am I writing this after almost three weeks of being a ghost on my own blog? Hardly do I know.
But here’s what I do know: the ‘new year’ ends after the first month, after which we all drift back into our circles of passivity and nonchalance towards a once-perceived-as- imperative goal, and the circle continues.
I learnt something though, to set goals. Realistic goals. And work towards achieving them. And measure my progress every quarter. It makes me not so scared of being a lower when it comes to those resolutions anymore.
So these are my goals:
Read more. Love more. Talk to God more. WordPress on a constant. Be honest more. Take shit from the ones I love more. Be marriable more- serious talk. I’m so individualistic sometimes. I shake my head at myself. I hardly cook stuff to eat.
As I’m typing this, I’m taking a shit, hoping to clear my bowels for the suya I will buy. If you’re new to The Girlfriend Blog you might not get my thing with suya… I haven’t really gotten it either.
So I need to work more on how to live like there’s a second person in my life. Be more detailed, etc etc.
This promises to be a great year.
Happy boxing day,
Happy New Year
I missed it all, MIA from this blog that started in the middle of the year and became something so serious.
I can’t even ask myself why, but it makes me wonder if I’d just disappear from the radar, once I get into a relationship with someone…
Happy new year, WordPress family, I see that more people have joined me on this journey of ‘becoming’ that I’m on. And I’m happy. Welcome to you, newest friend, my name is Amie.
Thank you for not giving up on The Girlfriend Blog. This is my reconciliation post 🙂 it’s great to be back. See you soon my friends.
You know how not so cliché it is when you open your WordPress and read your posts, the ones where you drop so much wisdom, and you just could be a 21st century Gandhi?
… You know how not so cliché it is when, inspite of all your Instagram posts showing how in love with the world and inspired by life you are, your world at the moment is slanted at a 270° angle?
…You know how not so cliché it is when you begin to see the good in people, because you just read somewhere that you can change the world a person at a time?
…you know how not so cliché this ‘not so cliché’ post is, because everybody uses ‘cliché’ these days, even down to a hair dryer: ‘my gawwwd, your hair dryer is soooo cliché!’+ flips hair. ?
…you know how not so cliché it is, when you don’t understand yourself, but you’re asking someone ‘do you understand me?’ And the person says ‘not really’, so you admit you don’t understand yourself either?
…you know how cliché it is that I have used the word cliché so much in this post, the entire post looks cliché to me.
I must add this one: you know how not so cliché it is, when you leave your room for a stroll at night, end up at a suya stand, and have someone buy your suya wrap for you, because you don’t have change?
Yes, I know, I never have change these days, I just take the piece they give me to taste and swagger back to my dorm.
We finished a fashion course in my class about a month ago, and our lecturer started a ‘moment of truth’ for everyone. It was interesting. To say the least. Grievances were aired, some were picked. People cried. I laughed. Most of the time I looked.
Then it was my turn. My classmates told me I liked to be everywhere, do everything, Doyin said she saw me being the Tonto Dike of our generation, because I could do anything to get anywhere: that said by a girl who was dripping ‘ass-kisser’ all over.
Some other people, like Abraham and Seyi said I like to pretend and take the glory for something instead of sharing it with the class 😳. Tobi said I was cunning, and Seun stood up to support him, saying that someone said I had stolen her boyfriend at one time. Sade also said I was fake, because I said something and did something else, about someone else.
I felt a need to give a reply to all those people, standing to say what it was they said, and tell them why I would do it over and over again, where they were concerned, but wise woman that my lecturer was, she didn’t give room for response.
In summary, nobody said any thing good about me. Not one. They were all concerned with what they needed to tear me apart. At that time, was I hurt? No. I was only surprised.
Why? Because none of my friends stood to say a thing. And I went to ask them why. They said it was because they didn’t agree with all the people were saying, but it was not an avenue for argument.
So many people said so many things, but I went away with one important thing: life is not about proving yourself to people. They will say what they want to say, true or not. You have to live. Learn when you must, but never conform to everyone’s expectations.
And since this blog is not about me being a Disney princess and having everyone fall at my feet and brushing my mane, I can go to sleep soundly, knowing there are people who do not like me, and I am just as human a being as everybody else. I do not try so hard anymore to be ‘liked’.
While I admit that it feels really good to be the Belle at every ball, and have people rooting for me, I have come to the point where I ask myself ‘what if they don’t root for me, will I die? And I feel so great when I shake my head mentally and agree that I’m just okay, whether I’m a favourite or not.
She said people easily judge people, and I agreed. I still agree today, I will agree still in the many years to come.
The sad truth is, even I am guilty of hasty conclusions: it’s so easy for me to give someone a once-over (Or is it one-over? Correct me please) and condemn them to a zone or a place in my head.
Some people will class you based on what they see you wear, some do it based on where they see you. Some, because in their own precious world, you are beneath them in every sense of the word beneath.
I have gotten tired of asking questions into space that can not be answered. Instead, I turn the microscope on me, to enlarge my actions on a culture dish and examine myself. It has become a thing for us to just tear someone apart at one glance.
Another fine lady here, the bosslady of the Lipgloss Mafia gave a serious talk on girl codes and I felt my neck nodding on its own. But apart from girl codes, human codes are needed. It’s not only girl to girl relations, or guy to guy, but everybody to everybody else. Maybe I should draw up a list of that one.
The world would be a much, much better place if we treated each other with as much love and respect as we want to be treated.
That said. My exams were supposed to end yesterday, but our lecturer didn’t set our questions, *inserts eye roll smiley* so it was pushed to today, and the time isn’t still sure. *inserts another rolling eye smiley*
Good morning, have a blessed day and make sure to show some love today.
Hi my friend! It’s been a while oh *inserts big happy face smiley*
Exams have been visiting for the past few weeks so I decided to leave this baby of mine and face the papers. Have they been good? Hahaha. Yeah.
So I told myself I was going to start doing many things to my advantage. People made resolutions at the beginning of the year, Amie here, does hers at the end.
I told myself I was going to be patient. There’s this rushing thing that comes with the end of the year. Everyone wants to do as much or get as much before the year runs out. You can’t see them running, but they might be standing beside you while their minds have travelled to Burkina Faso.
Waiting is hard. But I’m learning that waiting is fun too. While you wait, there’s an opening for you to see things that you weren’t seeing before, feel things you weren’t feeling before, experience something you might have missed in the course of pursuing that one something.
Of course this is two-sided; you might see, feel, experience some bad stuff, but isn’t that why we grow? To learn?
I told myself I’m young, and so I should savour every moment: the bad ones the most, so that I would know how to handle myself the next time I found myself in a place like that.
I talked a lot to myself, but even awoof runs the belle, so I’ll take it one at a time.
Lol. Exams finish in a few days, so I prophesy my ‘backness’.
Awoof: more than enough of something, interchangeable with bonuses.
There are times when the zeal to do something you love just fades. It’s not for lack of passion, it’s just what it is. But in these times, it is because you know why you started it in the first place, that is what keeps you going.
There will be times when you and a friend will not talk as much as you used to. You might begin to wonder if you are really friends. Or if your job is the right one for you, because there’s no fire anymore.
There will be uncertainties at every turn, sometimes it could be a lack of assuredness that the person you love might not love you back as much as you do them. Or it could be a little thud in your chest that in the place you’re working, people do not appreciate you.
These things do not make up all of our lives. We have joys, victories, memories, triumphs. We have hope.
This is for everyone who has felt like this at some point. It’s not your entire life, it’s just one hurdle in your race. So live, and be happy, cry when you need to, and move on. Rise above those feelings and live.
I had to look into the dictionary to fine a word to aptly represent the way I think in my head. I found this:
I got close to someone. We bonded over intellectual property- the beauty in poetry, the way books made you travel through time, the way a word could mean a thousand things. As time went by, he saw through me; past the English, the sarcasm, the wit. He saw the colour of polish on my nails and the hair I never seemed pressed to braid.
We would take walks on long roads and dance in the middle when no car was passing. Then we would lie in the middle of the road when no one was watching. We began to have inside jokes- the ones only both of us understood. We would race our shadows and see who could jump higher to cut leaves from trees. He called it aimless wandering.
After our walk, we would run under the arcs beside the Senate building and then hide between the walls, because the regular people were asleep or reading- and we were seizing the moment.
It was during one of those times, after we sat down on a slab at the motion ground, sharing a bottle of coke and our very different music playlists, that he kissed me. It was brief, it was polite, it was a question. I answered.
The next time, after our round of aimless wandering, we got to the arc, then sat on the slab. And the next thing I heard was my voice. Kiss me.