Not so cliché

In all honesty, i don’t know what this picture is doing on my blog… Except maybe for the fact that i like chicken and just ate suya.

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.

You Can’t Be Everywhere

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.

How they sit back and talk

I wrote a post on innocence some time ago, and a friend I made here, who goes by the name of Purple Butterfly made a wise comment…she’s like Grandmother willow in Pocahontas… Sage 😀

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.

why?

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.

The sooner we realise this, the better for us all

Much love,

Your Girlfriend.

I Told Myself

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. 

This is me, during a drama performance.
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.

Me again, ministering in songs at DOSSOM, you know i love Jesus right? 🙂
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.

I’m back

Lol. Exams finish in a few days, so I prophesy my ‘backness’.

Much love,

Your Girlfriend.

Glossary

Awoof: more than enough of something, interchangeable with bonuses.

Belle: stomach.

Musing

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.

Yet

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.

And Live.

A letter to Zoe

I wrote this for my friend, Olayinka Olaseni. I haven’t shown it to her, I might not show it to her. This is how I write for my friends, it helps me bring some of our times together into words I can keep for years.

Here goes:

I know you know I write. 

I know you’ve know I love you.

I know you know I miss you.

I know you’ve known for a long time.

I bought akara last night, but I could taste a sadness in its oil; it was not the one we ate together. It was just another ball of fried beans, this one bad for my health.

My sister, 
I wish I knew more French than I do, after all, French is the language of love, Oui?

I want to tell you again, I love you and I wish you were here. I’m counting the days in my heart and I’m glad that every day goes to bring you a step back to this place.

So, when you have learnt all the French enough to conquer France, I’ll be here, so we can speak English together. But I will learn enough to let you know that now and always, 
Je t’aime.

                                               Nneamaka
Have a great day.

Hello from my system!

I don’t know why, but I was scared to look at my blog on my system, like someone who just underwent a facial reconstructive surgery being nervous about their face…

I held my breath, then I released, then I held it again when it seemed like I had forgotten my password, after being so comfortable blogging from my mobile.

I must say though! This feels like heaven, typing from my system, I should do this more often… which means there’s a new prayer request: modem. I can’t be buying 100Naira Wi-Fi access everyday na…

…But this feels great oh. okay, I see that I need to work on my web layout and all that, but thank you for sticking with me so far ,kai, this looks so not-so-fine, but it looked neat on my phone. So I will work on it. I feel happy lol, blogging from my system. oh well…

… a lot of ‘…’ today, and I don’t know where they’re coming from. it’s like, I’m experiencing my blog from a new perspective, and I see so much potential! I just have to detach myself from the 5 inches of my phone screen and learn to adapt to this awesome 14 inches worth of space.

I love you guys!

and I will work on this layout, so help me God! Amen.

Much Love,

from your Girlfriend

Who blogged on her system for the first time and is still feeling good about it.

 

 

In secondary school

Adults have always been more of my friends than my age mates. I mean, what could 21 year olds possibly know, that adults won’t know, right?

Nah. It’s never really been about that.

I did not really have friends in secondary school, which was a government school. I did not know how to relate and when I did, I did the wrong things, said the wrong things, made the wrong expressions, or I was really stubborn when we had arguments, and ended our friendships. I just didn’t get the hang and attachments that came with secondary school.

The teachers on the other hand, they just flowed with me like water.I enjoyed going to their offices, sitting down, having them ask me questions. As a prefect, they would advise me to be serious and not allow contrabands, or be caught cheating in the exam hall, or let anyone smuggle food out of the dining hall.

Let me say, that I was not a ‘perfect student’ in any way. Yes, I had a charisma around adults, but I was not a favourite among my set. My classmates were another matter though: it seemed to me like they had come to respect me as I was: their class captain with a weird way of life, weird, in the sense that I could not really flow with my age mates, but I was in my element with the staff.

Staff! Students and staff never really got along, and that was another problem, it seemed to them like I was a snitch. Because the staff liked me. And they showed it. And it grated on the other students’ nerves.

Till today, my classmates call me ‘class capo’ whenever they see me, anywhere. It got so embarrassing that even when I got to the university, and met some of them, they still called me class captain and head-boy (which is a story for another day). I had to beg them to let it go.

Now that I think of it, I enjoyed secondary school. I have a journal that chronicled my depression through out my seven years in FGGC Sagamu. I was depressed most of the time. And when I repeated a class? It was liquid hell. 

But the teachers were always there. There will be more on this. I promise myself that. 

This Innocence they talk about.

I have spoken with some people, after which they told me that I am innocent. 

Okay?

 I ask, is that a good or a bad thing? They say it is good, that I have not been corrupted by the happenings in the world.

I smile.

I have never been a happening babe on campus. Popular, sometimes, but to be in that circle of people who know what’s up? Not me.

One said I am innocent because I’m not ‘loose’, and don’t show signs of becoming so anytime soon.

Okay?

At times I begin to wonder if I sound like an idiot when someone says ‘there’s an innocence about you’. I hear something closer to ‘you haven’t seen the world, you don’t know how it works’.

Here’s the shocker: I have had my fair share of the world, as young as I am, from a little age, I was ‘exposed’ to the blows that life can deal you mercilessly, and if that doesn’t count, I’m seeing more everyday.

So why in the world has it not shown on my face, or in my speech?

I really wonder.

Suya Tales

I was at a suya spot one evening this week. The seller and I have become familiar, because every other night, at least another 100 naira leaves my allowance and enters his money plate.

I had made my order and after expressing my disapproval at his not having the ‘breast’ of the animal, I stood back to avoid the smoke from the grill. As he cut one piece, I took it, rolled it in dry pepper and threw it into my mouth.

Only this time, I managed to throw the pepper first before the suya. My airway got choked.

And that was when drama started.

I started to cough. I removed the meat in my mouth, thought it was a cough I could get out of my chest in a couple of seconds and go on with the suya. No way. In the minutes that followed, I felt my self getting into heart attack mode, with that alakoba piece of meat still in my hand. I held on to it, hoping to conquer.

I could not breathe. Whenever I tried, all I did was struggle to take in very little air. I was wheezing. ‘Water’ i was saying in my mind, ‘water’. Suya men never sold water. They just stood behind their table and sold meat till it finished, so I didn’t blame him for not having water. I just wanted to tear all my clothes off my body and let the air work wonders.

I was dancing on the walkway, choking on pepper, but I knew I was blessed of God when the suya man asked me if I wanted water. I took a satchet from him, finished it, and kept clearing my throat to get the pepper out. 

All this while, that suya was in my right hand.

I went to sit on the floor at the entrance of the faculty of science- we call it White House, because it’s white. Used to be white. When I felt like my breath was even enough, I put the suya in my mouth and savoured the fruit of my labour. Clearing my throat, I went to meet the seller.

 I had a smile on my face. He smiled too and said how he was surprised that a little cough could become something big, and told me he would buy kuli-kuli pepper next time- that one wasn’t as hot as this.

I said all was well, paid for my meat and left, all the while feeling happy that I conquered the suya that wanted to run away.

Glossary

Suya- grilled meat 

Alakoba-  something or someone that can put you in trouble

Kuli-kuli- a local snack