I love everything about this band! I love the style in & of the video. Amaze.:). Everytime i hear this song, I want to rent a vintage beetle, drive fast on an empty road with all 18 inches of my (horsehair?!?!) weave flowing in the summer breeze!

#BlackHarajukwuGirl

Favourite Things

2011-05-05T12:36:00.000-07:00

I Heard...

2011-01-06T12:47:00.000-08:00

If more people realised this, our world would be a better place.

I FOR IMPORTANT

2011-01-06T12:22:00.000-08:00

(1ST POST OF 2011...WAHHHHHEEEYYYYY!!! Thank you dear Lord for another year, your grace abounds!!!)

Just returned from a rescue mission at the frontiers of My Kitchen. The Targets? An unruly mix of flour, yeast, sugar and water attempting a tactical operation to frustrate the authority of my brave comrade. My comrade and little sister fought valiantly to coerce the unruly quartet into submission via hot vegetable oil. Those wily ingredients evaded capture, refusing to bind themselves together to form the soft whole we like to call Puff Puff. On immediate contact with the heated oil, they scattered in all directions in a wasted attempt at a victorious uprising against my by-now annoyed little sister. Alas she conceded defeat in the end and left the kitchen with a promise to return to fight another day. Defeated but undeterred, she marched to my room to call me, The Food Fighter, to finish the job.

I entered the kitchen swagger on a hundred trillion thousand, or whatever Queen Kanye says, proud of being the chosen agent to spearhead the Cease & Desist mission. I proceeded to attack The Mixing Bowl, the slick ingredients’ encampment of choice. As I mixed, my sister watched me with eyes brimming with her confidence in my ability to get her Puff Puff to her in one delectable piece, come 15minutes. As I mixed determinedly, my thoughts wondered as they are wont to do and somehow I found myself pondering on life. Wait, wait hear me out before quirking an eye brow and serving me a chilled glass of ‘Girl Please’. Yes, I do indeed engage in intellectually stimulating conversations with myself, mid mundane tasks. Like the time I wondered how cows felt about potential stereotyping resulting from the outbreak of the Mad Cow disease whilst I was….actually let’s focus.

* ahem*, so as I stared at my sister staring at me in confidence, I thought back to how many times growing up I had stared at my mum in the same way as I watched her salvage some epic fail I was attempting to conjure in her kitchen. And I thought, sister thinks I’m a good cook, but I think mummy’s a great cook and I’m sure there’s someone mum thinks is even better than her!

It’s a funny thing about this world, that there will always be someone that appears to be clearly greater than you in some way. There will be taller, prettier, curvier, smarter, nicer, sexier, more interesting, cultured, sensible women than you. Fact. Now what you choose to do with that fact is instructive. Some women are aware of the Fact and let it determine the course of their lives forever so at every point in those lives their owners are beset with insecurities because of the consistent measuring and comparing…and always coming up short. Sadness and bitterness follow swiftly and drives people who may have loved the woman away and the insecurity returns because she has no friends, and the cycle continues. This cycle can only maintain itself because people who consistently compare have simply failed to realize that no one is more necessary than you to your life.

No one can be more important, useful, necessary to my life than I can. No one is more amazing at fulfilling my destiny than I am. No one is more certain to carry out my course on this earth than I will. So while the world consistently tries to tell us as individuals that we are not that important/great/necessary to the grand scheme of things, I humbly suggest that this is what Armeninans and men over 67 in Kazhakstan refer to as BULL SH*T. Ok I’m lying about the Eastern Europeans, but you get my point. The idea that YOU are just not that important is a lie, prevarication, rumour, a part of the Tales by Moonlight African Fairytales series. You are relevant to the movement of YOUR earth. Not only to your family and friends but to your destiny…think about it, if you do not fulfill your destiny, WHO WILL?

And So It Goes...

2010-12-31T09:37:00.000-08:00

The night before the epic 2010 ends, I'm sitting in my kitchen at 5.38pm, unwashed, wrapped in the warmest bathrobe known to man with my homegirl Corinne Bailey Rae serenading me quietly from MacMilliene's speakers and I'm ready to bid 2010 a merry farewell. It has been a great year in many ways, sooo many blessings in the last 12 months, soooo many significant changes and most importantly, soooo much growth has gone on in my life.

I believe I can confidently say 2010 finds me at her careful conclusion, a better woman that I was at her cantankerous commencement. I think this is how all our years ought to be measured regardless of the challenges faced duringn the year; the ability to exit triumphant come December, is the determinant of A Good Year.

Ladies and Zestlemen, I had a great year!

With all the learning and growth as a woman, a person, 2010 brought, I can't wait for 2011 The 'Doing' Year. Less Talk, More Work.

Oh, and in 2011 I am going to be happy every single...I'll start everyday with a smile...no, a grin...hell, I'm already practicing now! Lol.

Courage In Motion

2010-12-18T01:11:00.001-08:00

Dr. Hawa Abdi, “equal parts Mother Teresa and Rambo.”

Read a little about her here;

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/16/opinion/16kristof.html

I heard...

2010-12-17T17:07:00.000-08:00

"I still haven't developed antibodies for your smile. "-Jeffrey McDaniel

Because I Love It

2010-12-17T17:04:00.000-08:00

The Archipelago Of Kisses

We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don't
grow on trees, like in the old days. So where
does one find love? When you're sixteen it's easy,
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses. There's the first kiss.
The sloppy kiss. The peck.
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we
shouldn't be doing this kiss. The but your lips
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
The I wish you'd quit smoking kiss.
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. The I know
your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. As you get
older, kisses become scarce. You'll be driving
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out. If you
were younger, you'd pull over, slide open the mouth's
red door just to see how it fits. Oh where
does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile.
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.
Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
Now what? Don't invite the kiss over
and answer the door in your underwear. It'll get suspicious
and stare at your toes. Don't water the kiss with whiskey.
It'll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of
your body without saying good-bye,
and you'll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth. You must
nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it
illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a
special beach. Place it on the tongue's pillow,
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath
a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The
intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss.
The I'll love you through a brick wall kiss.
Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth,
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.

Jeffrey McDaniel

Oh Harry!

2010-12-17T16:47:00.000-08:00

I have been trying to write this note for the last two weeks. Every time I seat to write, Laziness slithers quietly on the floor, stealthily steals up my legs, sweeps past my torso and its lethargy settles on my fingers, stilling them and slowly guiding me towards that wondrous talent of mine, Sleep. *sigh* But this time, like a gangster warrior, the courageous Amazonian I am, I fight against those two nefarious brothers Laziness and Procrastination…and emerge triumphant. So, Friday night finds me propped up in bed, eyes squinting at MacMilliene my trusty sidekick, sweet faithful MacBook, as I type merrily away about a subject that trul fascinates me….Harry Potter.

Yes, yes the jokes flow fast and free as you snicker behind your calloused palms whispering “…typical Nigerian, of course she is fascinated by witches and wizards!” Despite the fetishness of the citizenry of my nation state, I am replete in the confidence that I have a different covenant, one with the creator Himself, ruler of all things temporal and extemporal and so you see, I have no interest in witchcraft and wizadry and other odious doings, imagined or otherwise.

Alors, allons y.

I saw the movie adaptiation of the 7th of J.K Rowling’s Harry Potter novels and I am once again amazed at the depth and insight of this woman. People who do not know better condemn the book savagely; some as merely a child’s tale that has been cleverly packaged in such a manner as to deceive grown folk into falling in love with a child’s fairtytale. Others, more conservative and peppered with the heat of an interpretation of their religion, denounce the book for being a heretical study of dangerous ideas, an insidious method of spreading devilish messages. Still others simply determine it is simply an over-rated work of art.

Opinions as I suspect you are aware, are like orifices in the nether regions of every human body, every person has and is entitled to one. I, have always been a fan of the Harry Potter franchise and the latest movie confirmed the reason. More than anything else, the Potter series is the story of a young person’s coming of age. So readily identifiable, incredibly accessible to anyone who knows what it is to try to find and stay true to yourself in a world that is perpetually trying to pull you to its dictates. At the heart of the tale is a story of that rarest of gifts; Friendship. It is a tale of good, solid Friendships standing the test of time, growing and maturing with its owners, enriching their lives by its very presence. But more than anything else, it is a tale of courage. Of people standing up to systems that inefficient and cruel systems, challenging the status quo, people in a constant search for Truth. In recent days, I have been thinking of courageous humans, people that care for much more than themselves and are able to break out of their barrier of comfort, unwilling to sit and let Destiny master the ship of their lives…men and women who look into an uncertain future and refuse to hand over the rein of their lives to this elusive vixen called Destiny.

From book one to seven, the Harry Potter series chronicle courage at the height of tyranny and unrestrained evil. And reading the author’s speech about her inspiration for the book (http://roomtorite.blogspot.com/2009/07/oga-pota.html) moves the characters from black and white manifestations on a page, makes me think of the real-life people of courage all over the world who persistently stand up for Right and I wonder, what will my legacy be? When I leave this world, how much would I have contributed to my corner of the world?

How did I get here from the story about a frightened looking 11 year old who lived in a cupboard?

J.K Rowling’s skill.

[J.K ROWLING'S SPEECH: http://roomtorite.blogspot.com/2009/07/oga-pota.html]

Because I Love It

2010-12-17T16:22:00.000-08:00

When I'm alone with You Lord
My troubles seem to disappear
And the peace that comforts me
Always comes when You are near
And Your love's too much for my heart to contain
Joy too much that my feet won't refrain

So I dance like the rain on the roof
Tell my soul that my spirit's on the loose
Don't know if anyone will understand
Feels like an angel's got a hold of my hand
So I dance
I dance I dance I dance

When I think about the ways
That You have blessed my life
I sing a song of praise and thankful tears fill my eyes
'Cause Your love's too much for my heart to contain
Joy too much that my feet won't refrain

So I dance like the rain on the roof
Tell my soul that my spirit's on the loose
Don't know if anyone will understand
Feels like an angel's got a hold of my hand
So I dance
I dance I dance I dance

-Lenny Leblanc

Our forefathers say...

2010-12-17T16:19:00.000-08:00

"Lizard for Warri no fit turn to crocodile for London"

-Warri proverb from Warri No Dey Carry Last

I heard...

2010-12-17T16:00:00.000-08:00

"If she's amazing, she won't be easy
If she's easy, she won't be amazing.
If she's worth it, you won't give up.
If you give up...maybe you're not worth it?"

-Paraphrased from www.christianarants.com

My Purpose Driven Life. I Think...Pt II

2010-12-17T15:43:00.000-08:00

This is the second half of a (long) post I wrote earlier, on life and courage. I said before that the older i grow, the more responsibility I am faced with and the more I realise that to maintain my focus I need to put my life in order. I need to 'prune' my life into place, I think. Because I really really believe your life should only contain things that matter:)

In the process of pruning, I’ve had to make some difficult decisions but I’m learning that good, solid…and correct… decisions leave you a little sad, but much more at peace with yourself. In the end you’re stuck with yourself for eternity, do you really want to keep justifying your choices to yourself? Better to do the right thing, not the convenient thing, hard as it may be and be at peace. I think. That’s where the serenity quote comes in. You really need wisdom to determine what is worth letting go of in your life, and what deserves to be retained. Because your life should only be full of things that matter; to your happiness, your peace and self-worth.

We need God’s help to accept that there will always be things we can not change even by working, wishing or waiting. We have to accept that, serenely. Not with excessive bouts of regret, self-pity or Jazmine Sullivan style Busting Windows of Cars but with calmness flowing from an inner confidence that all things will work together for your good no matter what today looks like. You need that attitude to weather the storms of life because Life is not for small kids! LOL! It can throw you some curve balls that understandably warrant a madness-demonstrating response…but you can't always give in to emotional impulses or you will drain yourself. Save your energy, cultivate serenity.

And for the things that are in our power to change, we need the courage from Him to take that first step on a journey of change. That’s often all you need. And God knows that. Any huge task starts with the very first attempt. Just as a journey of a thousand miles, begins with one step….random story, I had a Japanese friend called Ayumi which apparently means that first step in a long journey. Cool no? No? Ok, moving on. See Joshua 1:8, where Joshua is about to take the mantle of leadership of millions of people, from the much loved and well respected Moses. Imagin the anxiety! But God has absolute confidence in Joshua’s ability to rule, and rule well. And as if He knows that Joshua is nervous, He tells him: “ONLY be strong and very courageous”. As if that is all he needs to succeed. I really love that scripture. God understands fear, in particular, MY fears. In church on Sunday the pastor said “…courage is not the absence of fear, it is the mastery of fear. In the absence of fear, there is no need for courage.” We need to face our fears head-on and challenge them to do the worst they can. That’s the only way you bring yourself to the next level in your life. Otherwise you’re perpetually bound by your own fears, you wonder why you’re not growing but you can’t see that you are the one limiting yourself.

I find that I women sacrifice themselves easily, we prioritise other people to our detriment. Giving up on that and redirecting focus on yourself can be difficult. But when you prioritise your own aspirations, let go of things that hold you back, are courageous enough to go for gold & goals, and you trust your decisions then your peace of mind is guaranteed, your confidence in your abilities and love for yourself grows. Suddenly, you feel like you own the World, his fastidious father and his bootilicious babymama!

So in this journey to Purpose, here is what I wish myself and all women in the similar boat of finding themselves and running with a vision; “I wish you strong trust in yourself and faith in the future. The belief that you will make the right choices to bring you closer to the happiness you deserve. I wish you friends to surround you in the circle of their caring and love and people to help you laugh at life”. (Gotten from a birthday card I bought myself on my 22nd birthday and randomly found in my closet yesterday. Yes I bought myself a birthday card...lol…please focus!).

And some encouragement for those of us on the precipice of a difficult pruning decision…and for those currently working out a dream too, I’ll tell you what they told me in church on Sunday:

(Conversation between God and *insert your name here*)

God: “I’ll be with you. I wont give up on you ________; I wont leave you. Be strong and of good courage…Give it everything you have, heart and soul…don’t get off track, either left or right, so as to ensure you get where you’re going. And don’t for a minute let this Book of the Revelation (iLovit!) be out of mind. Ponder and meditate on it day and night (consistency!), make sure you practice everything written in it. Then you’ll get where you’re going; then you’ll succeed. Only be strong and very courageous, don’t be timid, don’t get discouraged __________. God, your God is with you every step you take.” –Joshua 1:5-8 Msg & KJV.

God knows that doing the right thing is never easy. You’re not alone.

I Hear You But I Can NOT Listen...!

2010-11-26T13:23:00.000-08:00

My capability for unearthing foolery and mayhem even in the midst of the most civil and serious situations is surprising to some…as is my consistent search for fodder to feed my active imagination. The Nigerian Law School, which I am currently enrolled in, is the perfect place for such fodder as it is a veritable treasure chest of laughs. When I started a few months ago, there were only ‘foreign' students at the school. By foreign, I refer to students who have obtained a degree in any jurisdiction besides Nigeria. I suspect that the second, equally important, requirement to undertake the course as a ‘foreign’ student is the ability to speak in a contrived accent. The more unfortunate sounding the better, I believe. Or how else do we explain the questionable accents prevalent in this place?! And you know it can not be easy to maintain! We’re talking saliva collating, tongue stressing, cheek chewing accents that often do more to expose the little village in Eastern Nigeria from whence the speaker doth commeth rather than a world-class education at an accredited UK university. Amazingly, we never have any Ghanaian, Romanian or Malaysian accents in the proliferation of English and American ones, despite the fact that the registration book clearly shows substantial figures from universities kilometres away from the Great Britain and American shores. Epic Fail surely?

But we digress.

Now, the second half of the course has begun, and a host of even more questionable characters have invaded the campus. The ‘real’ Nigerian students are upon us. By real, I mean students who studied within the porous ports of the Nigerian territory. As I leave the first class of the new term, I am compelled to quietly mutter to myself “…the idiots outnumber us”. By this I do not suggest the ‘real’ Nigerians are in any way less intelligent, if anything the opposite appears to be the case. However there exists among their number too many ‘students’ who appear unable to conjugate tenses, use conjunctions or pronounce basic English words, to ignore. Each day in class is an escalated fun-fest. Certainly not what you would typically label a class of ambitious potential lawyers and intelligent lecturers.

Sometimes I want to blame the lecturers for the students' poor speech, I have heard a teacher tell the class to “…haxx de clent ebat hah she”, in English she is saying "…ask the client about how she…" (And yes, I am well aware that that sentence makes little sense even in English). Where a teacher speaks like this it is little wonder that a student, stands up in his ill-fitting jacket, stretches forth his dangling limbs to collect the microphone, expands his jaw and belches out a nonsensical sentence like this; “…woo wee nah ichoo de rit of mah-dah-mos?” (in English ”…who will now issue the Writ of Mandamus?”).

I intend to make a point of noting the horrendous errors in each class and detailing them here…for the education of the masses yet unborn of couse *ahem*. Seriously, the manner of speech in the classes is most distracting. I spend my classes giggling into my books, simultaneously praying that the teacher does not look my way and “Has”, “Haxxe” or perhaps even “Azz” me a question.

I better focus now!

Because I Love It

2010-11-20T07:36:00.000-08:00

Never before have I been so in love with Rihanna! Couldn't stand the nasal humming and the goth inspired darkness (that appeared rather contrived) in many Riri videos. ALTHOUGH, I have always loved her post Music Of The Sun style. All that aside, these days Rihanna can do no wrong, far as I'm concerned. I love the girly/vintage/pink/floral video for Only Girl In The World. I love the song as well!

Add her very cute video with Drake (who is thankfully looking far more tanned than usual, the gods be praised!) I'm really happy with Rihanna's current offerings!

My Purpose Driven Life. I Think.

2010-11-19T23:47:00.000-08:00

Life is a bit everywhere for me right now, I mean I just spent my evening battling for space on my reading table with one middle-aged grasshopper, 2 agile beetles and another creature of doubtful origin. (Be aware that none of these are code names or euphemisms, I’m talking of real life creepy crawlies *insert disgusted shudder here*). My school is in the middle of the rain forest…well not really… but it seems like that, what with its plethora of vile creatures whose whereabouts the Discovery Channel would dearly love to know. On my way to get dinner I was chased by two mature frogs and back at my residence, I had to cleverly by-pass a temperamental rat to get to my room. A better ‘WhichKindlife?!?’ scenario, I am yet to find. Every day in this school is an extended F.M.L moment, particularly for this woman who hates all things that breathe but aren’t human…I mean, I hate some humans too but that’s really neither here nor there at the moment

I digress.

I saw this statement recently and it had a domino effect on my thoughts; “ God grant me Serenity to accept the things I can not change. Courage to accept the things I can and Wisdom to know the difference”. Its part of a longer prayer by Reinold Niebuhr if Wikipedia is to be believed;

"God, grant us the...
Serenity to accept things we cannot change,
Courage to change the things we can, and the
Wisdom to know the difference
Patience for the things that take time
Appreciation for all that we have, and
Tolerance for those with different struggles
Freedom to live beyond the limitations of our past ways, the
Ability to feel your love for us and our love for each other and the
Strength to get up and try again even when we feel it is hopeless."

Recently my life has started getting more purpose, a clearer focus and dare I say it, substantial progress (big shout out to God for Hisawesomeamazingmarvellouswondefulness to me and mine). I’m excited about the changes and looking forward to the future but the truth is clarity and acceleration bring big responsibilities. All of a sudden, the need for self-evaluation arises because in order to focus on your focus, you need really clear vision. This automatically means you have to weed your life, prune your life’s leaves, take out those tiny buds of disorder and the stronger, longer-existing, soul entangling roots… cut off the distractions. This is never easy but;

-I’m learning that I need to harness my resources, streamline my abilities and center on myself, my aspirations, my hopes, to fully ‘focus on my focus’. Having scattered thoughts, a million and one plans and so on is a recipe for disaster at this stage, I’m realising.

-I’m learning that Good Distractions exist! Some distractions are useful and in fact, beneficial BUT partaking in them at the wrong time can be detrimental to my vision.

-I’m learning that if I don’t do X or Y, I will not die despite how I feel at the moment of deprivation. Disciplining the self is the hardest thing but ‘Mens Agitat Molem’…’The Mind Moves Matter’. Mind over matter. I’ve always said humans are mutants…with superhero-style strength available usually at necessary moments.

-I’m learning to understand my purpose for being. It is not at 18 that a meeting is called in heaven with King Jesus, chubby Cherubim and seranading Seraphim in attendance, with the rest of the heavenly hosts (including the crying doves I suspect heaven is full of), conglomerating to decide on your purpose in life. You are actually born with a purpose and already equipped at birth with the relevant tools to respond to your purpose. So you see why it will be a shame if you go through life without discovering and living in your purpose? You will always feel unfulfilled. I really believe your purpose is living that life that satisfies you, personally. I don’t believe everyone is destined to be wealthy (I strongly believe I am though *ahem*) but I really believe everyone is destined to be happy. If you don’t find your calling, you will always have that nagging feeling of unfulfilment and more likely than not be unhappy no matter how wealthy you are. IMO.

-Finally, I am happy with myself. And that matters more than almost anything to me.

Our forefathers say...

2010-11-19T23:43:00.000-08:00

"A rolling stone ……… na person push am."

-Warri proverb from Warri No Dey Carry Last

I heard...

2010-11-19T23:41:00.001-08:00

Grace to Leo: "I love you"
Leo to Grace: "I don't blame you"

LOL. I Love Will & Grace

I heard...

2010-10-25T10:41:00.000-07:00

Article in The Punch newspaper 2 weeks ago:

“NIGERIA LOSING 419 FRANCHISE

It appears other nations are snatching our 419 franchise right before our eyes. You might say this is a good thing but a loss is a loss….”

Our forefathers say...

2010-10-25T10:35:00.000-07:00

"Wetin you no go chop no use teeth divide am".

-Warri proverbs from Warri No Dey Carry Last

Tips On Driving In Lagos

2010-10-25T10:23:00.000-07:00

In line with my new-found Lagos Love, I found this article I saved from a random blog ages ago. I thought it was really funny but I don't remember now who wrote it...or the blog it came from. I'm working on finding out though. *wears Sherlock shades*

TIPS ON DRIVING IN LAGOS:

1. When in doubt, accelerate!
2. Be prepared to ram anything stopping you wearing a uniform in Lagos (Police, Traffic Warden,FRSC, ‘Kai Brigade’, Fire Brigade, VIO, LASTMA, LASWA, even LAWMA sef)
3. If you get caught by any chance, DO NOT allow them to enter your car, if they happen to get in DO NOT drive from that spot (veer off traffic & settle somewhere quiet). And if they don’t agree, form calling your uncle who is in the army (believe me it always works), never follow them to ANY sort of office except you wanna pay x10
4. Never give police or VIO your original particulars (whether expired or up to date).
5. Danfo drivers believe they are immortal. NEVER yield to the temptation to teach them otherwise.
6. Okada riders have a pact with suicide, avoid them like a plague.
7. Avoid BRT buses in all ramifications, they have NO brakes.
8. Taxi cabs (oko asewo) should always have the right of way, all of them have been driving in Lagos for 25yrs.
9. Never, ever, stop for a pedestrian unless he flings himself under the wheels of your car.
10. The first parking space you see will be the last parking space you see. Grab it. Survival of the fittest you may say!
11. Learn to swerve abruptly. In Lagos, potholes (and sometimes car-holes) are put in key locations to test drivers’ reflexes and shock absorbers,( I saw one man fishing in one of the potholes last week).
12. There is no such thing as “one-way” in Lagos. Expect traffic from any direction at all times. The Okada riders are the experts in this area.
13. Never get in the way of a car that needs extensive bodywork, except you want to spend your entire Saturday @ the panel beater’s place.
14. Morning rush-hours are equivalent to Lagos grand prix (who gets to the junction first).
15. There is no such thing as a short-cut during rush-hour traffic in Lagos. Everybody might be inclined to take that ’short-cut’.
16. When asking for directions, always ask at least 3 people. Lagosians ALWAYS claim to know every inch of the city – even areas they’ve never been to.
17. Use extreme caution when pulling into service lanes. Service lanes are not for breaking down the traffic, but for speeding, especially during rush hour.
18. Never use directional signals, since they only confound and distract other Lagos drivers, who are not used to them.
19. Similarly, never attempt to give hand signals. Lagos drivers, unused to such courtesies, will think you are making obscene gestures to them. This could be very bad for you in Lagos.
20. Hazard lights (popularly called “double pointer”) is not, (as commonly supposed) used to indicate a hazard. It is a warning to you that he is a bona fide Lagos driver, he’s headed ’straight’ and as such, will not stop under any circumstance. Take him extremely seriously especially if he backs it up with a continuous blast from his “horn”.
21. At any given time, do not stand on the zebra crossing expecting traffic to yield to you, or else you will have to explain to the on coming traffic whether you look like a zebra.
22. Speed limits are arbitrary figures posted only to make you feel guilty.
23. Remember that the goal of every driver is to get there first by whatever means necessary.
24. In Las Gidi every spot is a potential bus stop. FRSC and LASTMA know that too. It is in their constitution.
25. Above all, keep moving. Even with a flat tire!!!

JARA*:
HORNING IN LAGOS
- ‘Horn’ when someone executes a dangerous manoeuvre.
- ‘Horn’ when you’re about to move off.
- ‘Horn’ when you’re about to overtake.
- ‘Horn’ when someone is about to overtake you.
- ‘Horn’ when turning into a road.
- ‘Horn’ when emerging from a road.
- ‘Horn’ back when someone horns at you. It’s considered good etiquette.
- ‘Horn’ when you hear a chorus of horns. Don’t worry if you don’t know what all the ‘horning’ is about.
- ‘Horn’ when you’re happy.
- ‘Horn’ to the beat when you’re playing music in your car.
Good luck, as you expeditiously navigate through Lagos and hustle and bustle!

*Extra

With Love From Lagos

2010-10-25T09:21:00.002-07:00

A
After living in 3 countries and visiting several others in over two decades, I solemnly declare that Nigerians are potentially the most insane primates on God’s grey earth. (***Mad cows included in research).

I was not a fan of the foolery that was Big Brother Allstars (Africa) 2010, but I found myself somehow distracted into watching the South Africa located finale on telly. Seeing Uti, the Nigerian winner, dancing ‘Alanta’ as he hip-hopped his way out of the house only to find the (Nigerian) presenter joining him mid-stage in the notorious finger-wiggling, leg jiggling dance caused me pause. How does the territorial jurisdiction that is Nigeria manage to exist without imploding on itself with so many larger than life personalities crammed into the admittedly small space that is my nation state?!? Amazing. Scientists better leave stem cells and get to researching questions that truly matter! I wouldn’t blame a foreigner for wondering; “What is the point of being African if you’re not Nigerian?”

The soliloquy above was a discussion I had with the villagers and elves at the town hall of the Village D’Incroyables, (population:1), located in the deeper recesses of my medulla in the wee hours of the morning. The vitality of the Nigerian forms a substantial portion of my daily intellectual ponderings at the dawn of each new morning (yes, really). I think Nigeria, with its teeming humanity, concentrated chaos and intensified mayhem is VH1’s dream reality show. Lagos in particular with its unique mesh of eccentrics, posers, loonies, deluded, cool cats, gold-digging hustlers and comics amongst others, would be the perfect setting. The show would be a brutally honest expose on life. (Emphasis on ‘brutally’). I can already see it now! It would be titled ‘TIN’; a salute to that oft given answer to every frustrated question on why things don’t work in Nigeria ; “…This. Is. Nigeria!!” (T.I.N). And a subtle dig at many Nigerians' mis-pronounciations of words like the the ‘TH’ in THing. Birds 2. Stone 1.

The show would make for great reality TV simply because there would be no need for the fake acting and simulated scripts propagated by pretend ‘reality’ shows. Yes Kardashians, shots fired at you. The drama will not need to be created, the life of the average Nigerian has some modicum of drama attached to it automatically. It’s the default position in a country where basic amenities are considered luxury provisions. It's no wonder that Nigerians as individuals are one-man riot bands! In some ways Nigeria is Life….Exaggerated. Nigerians are a breathing exaggeration of every action; we laugh loud and hard, we wave our hands and whip our weaves in self expression, we cry long and heavy. It seems like a generalization but watch a group of young Nigerians interact and you’ll see what I mean.

Maybe this is why Nigeria has the awesome power to regularize so many things; things that would formerly seem totally out of place to me, somehow aren't anymore after a few months of living here. I know that lawns are made to be walked (sorry, MARCHED) on and queuing is only for the incredibly foolish, shouting over and bullying your way o the front is always advised. I also know now, of course, that caucasian foreigners are ALWAYS expatriates, NEVER immigrants...jobless or otherwise. Somehow you get used to never actually seeing women who have full front hair, thanks to the abrasive yet exotic-looking effect of tight yet terribly tidy braids. And normal is attending events where you are surrounded by a veritable sea of women with 100% authentic hair.… only every strand a home-grown production from the skull of one Sheeva Patel in Bombay or a Maria santa Monica in Peru. (I will say this trend is worrying for even me; the official face of Women Addicted to Weaves (WAW)). How about the Grief-Free Celebration-Only Zones that funerals in Nigeria are? Add to this mix, tales of daylight armed robbery attacks, head hunters (literally) for voodoo sacrifices, or churches where pastors claim to be able to give women children *pause and medititate on the swindle*. It’s an extraordinary place, this Nigeria is.

What I find fascinating is that in the consistent frenzy of activity and the concentrated mass of humanity, there is a warmth present here that is distinctly African and incomparable to any other place in the world. The disadvantage of many busy cities is the isolation that capitalism, industrialisation and technology bring. Yet somehow Nigerian cities, like Lagos, have somehow managed to remain fast-paced and exciting yet the real citizen of Lagos state (not the fronting newly repatriated 'foreign' Nigerian), is friendly, boisterous and funny. And probably looking for the fastest way to divest you of your best bits. Lol. …story for another day.

I like the spirit in this country. A special brand of welcoming, warm friendliness that manages to straddle that fine line between cool and crazy. Its like visiting that kooky, jolly aunty in the village that always hugs you too tightly and smells of mothballs; she’s a little too loud, often obnoxious but never ever boring.

Nigeria, and Lagos in particular, has worked its magic on me. After almost a month of living like a working-class Island Girl (whooop for finishing my internship in Lagos!), I find Lagos quite enchanting (in a non-cinderella-storyesque way). As I stare from my vantage point at the back of the car in traffic and watch others who, like me, are hurriedly applying a Mac counter full of war paint to camouflage baggy eyes and distract from birdnest hair as we all prepare to face another day in the jungle that is Lagos, Im surprised to feel that in the midst of the madness, I can see myself settling here.

I can almost smell the mothballs.

Because I Love It

2010-10-22T06:43:00.000-07:00

The best thing about having a blog, and I've waxed lyrical about this previously, is being able to share 100% authentic Sweet Nothings with no one, yet maybe everyone in the world. Not the sweet nothings deluded lovers whisper under the dying embers of an autumn dusk, the real foolish and silly things of life that still somehow manage to be sweet. *Made sense in my head*

One of these things are Norman Rockwell paintings. They are a little vintage without being dated as the themes remain fresh, but I think the real appeal to me is the throwback to a simpler time or just to baser emotions that unite all humans race, status, continent wide.

This one always makes me smile, maybe because in so many ways, as a veteran (twice honoured), board approved Mischief Maker, I can identify with The Nuttiest Girl In school. *giggles*.

Favourite Things...

2010-10-22T06:35:00.001-07:00

This is one of my favourite poems...and I seriously suspect I've put it up on the blog before but I'll put it again because hell, its my party and I'll cry if I want to!...Well, it is in line with the 21st century pentecostal self-helpism I'm preaching and feeling these days TBH!

WHO UNDERSTANDS ME BUT ME

They turn the water off, so I live without water,
they build walls higher, so I live without treetops,
they paint the windows black, so I live without sunshine,
they lock my cage, so I live without going anywhere,
they take each last tear I have, I live without tears,
they take my heart and rip it open, I live without heart,
they take my life and crush it, so I live without a future,
they say I am beastly and fiendish, so I have no friends,
they stop up each hope, so I have no passage out of hell,
they give me pain, so I live with pain,
they give me hate, so I live with my hate,
they have changed me, and I am not the same man,
they give me no shower, so I live with my smell,
they separate me from my brothers, so I live without brothers,
who understands me when I say this is beautiful?
who understands me when I say I have found other freedoms?

I cannot fly or make something appear in my hand,
I cannot make the heavens open or the earth tremble,
I can live with myself, and I am amazed at myself, my love, my beauty,
I am taken by my failures, astounded by my fears,
I am stubborn and childish,
in the midst of this wreckage of life they incurred,
I practice being myself,
and I have found parts of myself never dreamed of by me,
they were goaded out from under rocks in my heart
when the walls were built higher,
when the water was turned off and the windows painted black.
I followed these signs
like an old tracker and followed the tracks deep into myself
followed the blood-spotted path,
deeper into dangerous regions, and found so many parts of myself,
who taught me water is not everything,
and gave me new eyes to see through walls,
and when they spoke, sunlight came out of their mouths,
and I was laughing at me with them,
we laughed like children and made pacts to always be loyal,
who understands me when I say this is beautiful

-Jimmy Santiaga Baca

If You Let Yourself Learn

2010-10-21T10:31:00.000-07:00

The older you grow, the more likely to come to pass your fears become. Your silly ones like never disabusing yourself of the need to suck your thumb when you sleep. Or serious like losing someone you love. In essence, life happens. I’ve really hated the darker times in my largely sun-filled life. But I’ve also learnt a lot about myself and life in general in those times. In fact far more than I’ve learnt at any other time in my life…it’s like being on an intense, condensed course in Sadness with electives in Toughening Up and In-depth Self Reflection as side options. Things that took me 20 fairly odd years to learn about myself and others, I learnt in a few weeks of sorrow and mild depression.

One of the things I hate most about Sorrow is her bald, acrylic-taloned, flat chested (i imagine) companion; Fear. That instant, pervading and permanent fear that engulfs you, from the moment one of your hidden fears becomes a reality. Your heart stops, your head spins, the air in your lungs escape your lips in a hurry, your hands shake…your tear ducts squeeze but nothing comes out...as if your watermen aren't keen to release any fluid, like they are too despondent to produce the tears they are supposed to. Your whole body, mind and soul wilts in defeat as you think of 101 things left unsaid or said or couldadonebetters or oughtnottohaves. You’re hurting but you’re too shocked to cry or link the building blocks of alphabets into words to share your pain, to express your rage, your eyes are glazed and your heart actually feels like a paper weight; heavy and hollow. Sigh, I hate going through that painful process. The only thing comparable is that first moment where your soul suspects that sorrow is probable and imminent, the trepidation you live with right before the full extent of your upcoming hurt is unveiled is horrible. To me.

But day by day, after the realization hits, when it has settled and fits you snugly like that LBD that’s your best friend for one season you slowly begin to look behind you; not with horror, confusion or sorrow but with a better perspective, a new understanding of yourself, others, situations. The process is hard but the lessons you learn are invaluable.

I’ll share what I’ve learnt in recent times; I can only control my own actions. I am responsible for no one else’s.

Manipulation, fervent hoping, cold wars, mind games, wild expectations, will get you nowhere fast. Follow Your Bliss. Expect a 100% from yourself all the time. Do your best ONLY because that is what you want from yourself; being the best version of yourself you know how to be. Ultimately, you can only control and are only accountable for your own actions. When people say things like if "I was more like *insert perceived favourable trait*, this wouldn't have happened..."I quietly ask them to take a seat in the corner and face the wall, they seldom agree but that's neither here nor there. Holding yourself responsible for another's actions is the invite to the Guilt & Self-Pity Lounge. Thank Great Jehovah for helping me realise this mid-self evaluation. If you know you've done your best please don't blame yourself if things don't work out the way they ought, you've done your bit now leave it to the Finisher of Our Faith to work things out. God impresses me time and time again with His uncanny ability to steadily work things out in a way that benefits me in the end; the secret is to ask consistently through the pain "...show me the lesson here! Please!" Otherwise all of that anguish is actually your own time wasted if you GAIN nothing at all! *Shakes head vehemently* I MUST learn something if only so I can feel like I defeated the situation. A little. I'm competitive like that.

The entire point of this article, was to get to this final point...What I Like Best About Pain.

The education it brings and the empowerment that follows heartbreak is invaluable. It's like your body develops an immunity, the possibility of your Self being attacked again of course always remains, but you’re more knowledgeable in self-preservation. More than that if you listen to the still, small voice inside, you realize that you have a new-found confidence, not in things or people but solely in yourself, your abilities to survive time and time again. Suddenly you feel invincible, and I think that’s what every human has at their core; a strength and resilience that will always let you survive… if you Let Yourself Learn.

Our forefathers say...

2010-08-11T09:33:00.001-07:00

"One man's meat is another man's meat pie"

-Warri proverbs from Warri No Dey Carry Last

I heard...

2010-08-11T09:29:00.000-07:00

Nigerian Law School lecturer: "...the cot of appea' and the suprin cot*"
Confused student asking question: "Would you please tell us what the suprin cot is and what it has to do with the cot of appea'? I suspect it has something to do with babies, but I hate to make assumptions."

*Supreme Court & Court of Appeal

Love's Disability

2010-08-11T09:14:00.000-07:00

I arrive back into the blogosphere, after my self imposed hiatus, like a triumphant donkey rider invading the wild wild world of cyber space. Descending down crowded cyber streets, bursting into e-Jerusalem…with no welcoming mats and peasants singing praises at my arrival. No worries, the plebeians never recognise royalty. Or deity.

In one phrase, I am back.

In the last few months I have grown up considerably… although to watch my daily exhibition of foolery and mayhem would be to think otherwise. *Insert pensive pose here.* Despite the many other-wise thinkers and nay-sayers, I stand resolute in my declaration that I have indeed grown up.*Puffs out chest and points to sky*. I am not the same.

*Key inspirational music*

One thing I have learnt a little more about in my recent grown & sexy musings is about love. Yes children, not lurrve, not luv, or lv or lov, or V….lol, ok I don’t know who says ‘V’…but I mean L.O.V.E, Love. Not infatuation, intense like, warming concern, I mean LOVE! That great emotion that fuses all of those; Infatuation, Like, Concern and so much more, into one. I'm amazed at myself, a few months ago I honestly believed love was simply a concept created by selfish people to get their way. Seriously, how else do you explain people justifying foolishness in the name of love?! Take for instance the case of a woman who, several years after making vows before God and man and birthing several children that depend on a balanced two parent home for well rounded support, declares “Toby, I am no longer in love with you, I am leaving you for our post man. You must understand that I'm in love and mUst follow my heart”. Two days later I'm watching Toby on the Crime TV arrested for eating his wife’s heart.

Morbid humour, I apologise.

Actually I wonder what the origin of this word is. Wait, I'm off to wiki it.

*Back* Didn’t find it on wiki, thank the geeks for Google!

“The word love goes back to the very roots of the English language. Old English lufu (sounds like the igbo pronounciation!) is related to Old Frisian luve, Old High German luba, Gothic lubo. There is a cognate lof in early forms of the Scandinavian languages. The Indo-European root is also behind Latin lubet meaning it is pleasing and lubido meaning desire. The word is recorded from the earliest English writings in the 8th century.”
-GOOGLE.

With all the wondrous things that Love is, its little wonder that we very quickly lose sight of its many incapabilities. Love’s Disability I call it. As a world, we have conditioned ourselves to believe that love; the all consuming, unassuming, fully-loaded potential-filled feeling has the power to do all things; cancel debts, cover a multitude of sins, leap over tall buildings unaided etc. But I'm not sure I agree. Sure the bible speaks of such awe-inspiring love…but in what context? Biblical love manages to live up to all its professions simply because of its inhuman nature. Love, 1 Corinthians 13 Love, describes the same kind of love that Romans 8:35 confirms. A love that gives constantly in the face of distress, peril and persecutuion and expects nothing in return. A love that is patient even in a “Girl Hol’ My Earrings’ moment. A love that is kind, that rejoices in truth no matter how bitter that truth is. I humbly suggest that this is a standard that humans can ever only aspire to because it is divine in nature. Not human.

It’s the kind of love that can only come from one who plays the dual role of Lover AND Creator. Think about this; it is only a deity, God Himself, that took the time to create a face like Dennis Rodman’s orangutanic visage, that can afford to favour him with such a love as that described in 1 Cor 13, because in making him He knew everything about him…and chose to love him regardless. Well, only God and Dennis’ mama (who incidentally also plays the role of both lover and creator).

As humans we can only give a fraction of this brand of love but because it comes from the Giver of all true and pure love, it is enough. However, the question that plagues me is that we as a people have been conditioned to believe that Love contains some magic powers that can cure the Human in us and injects us with some godlike propensities to perform Herculean exploits.

What magic powers do you think LOVE contains that allows it to erase the humanity in us and make us gods?

In recent times I’ve had to contemplate this billion Naira query often whispered in a tear choked voice; “If you loved me as you claim, you would not have cheated would you?!” The standard answer from hurt women all over the world is a big “NAY!” or to expound “NAY! IF YOU REALLY LOVED ME THE LOVE WOULD HAVE STOPPED YOU FROM CHEATING!” Now, I would have been at the fore front of the Women Speaking Out protest nodding merrily along with the best of them but truth be told, recent events have made me stop mid-nod and re-access my stance. Your love for me and my love for you does not extinguish the human in me. Your love only improves on the flawed human that I am, sometimes so much so that I am so far from what I was that I may be considered “…a different person!”

Love is not a magic potion that wipes away the realities of our humanity. They still remain. It is up to each of us to constantly make an effort to discipline those parts of our humanity that shield the deity present in each of us, deposited at creation (Genesis 2:7).

Looking For Trouble...With A Torchlight

2010-03-12T07:01:00.000-08:00

“There is fire on the mountain and nobody seems to be on the run.
There is fire on the mountain top….and no one is a’ running.
One day the river will overflow and there'll be nowhere
for us to go and we will run, run...
wishing we had put out the fire...”

-Asa’s Fire On The Mountain

If you know me, you know I have no qualms in spending the larger portion of my day roaming the world wide web in search of tomfoolery and brain-touch inducing activity. It was on one of my merry virtual reality strolls, just this morning, that I came across the madness and mayhem that has swept through the city of Jos.

Now I’m not one for bandwagon climbing, I hate squashed sitting….squeezes my well-rounded hips (DON’T JEALOUS ME!!) for one thing. But today, I had to kindly ask someone to ‘dress’ for me as I joined the bandwagon of Nigerians discussing The Jos Crisis…yes, I even adopted the fancy name too….I’m an all or nothing kind of girl.

Before your eyes glaze over with Heard It All Before Special Glaze & Ointment, I will tell you that I don’t know the specific details; neither the economic nor religious basis, for this particular crisis. Or indeed any other that has occurred in Jos in recent times so I’m not about to wax lyrical on the joys of Islam over Christianity (or vice versa). Or how the killings are probably more a reflection of economic frustration thinly veiled by a veneer of religion culminating in battles for the Good Lawds sake. But as I said, I know nothing about the madness in Jos. *ahem*. Honestly, I have no in-depth analysis of the situation, I’ve only visited Jos once and I have no friends from Plateau state(…can you believe that Loyola students?!?!).

BUT, the reason for this article is that as I continue to hear of the Jos riots, then the loss of property in Jos, then the killing of some people in Jos, THEN the slaying of children and young mothers in what appears to be mass numbers (hell, even one child is one too many!), I -like many other Nigerians- sit and think, “That kind of sucks you know. Well, its not reaaaaally MY problem like that sha. I mean the government should handle it” etc.

Today that thought was quickly followed by two others. For one thing, it’s started in Jos but there is every chance of the mayhem spreading if it is not contained…just like militant activity spread from Rivers state to the surrounding states, I believe its only a matter of time before the madness spreads like a bushfire. Yes, a bushfire. Lol. So who knows if I will be able to say “Its not really MY problem like that sha…” by this time next year?

Secondly if the drama, indeed the Mexican soap opera one might be tempted to call The Rich Also Cry, that has been playing in Aso Rock recently is to be believed, the presidents (all 3 of them) don’t have time for Jos. Between the Tom and Jerryism of the ailing and hearty, the deployment of hoards of (apparently jobless) soldiers on one of YOUR president’s return to guard him from what I can only assume is a fear of someone shooting him with the vaccine for mortality, and two full houses of working senators and government officials who from all indications believe that ruling is best done by mass pepper-souping, big-stouting and skirt-chasing, Jos will not be saved by politricks.

If Jos is to be helped, it’s up to us; ordinary people with a sympathy for suffering human beings…and an understanding that actions yell louder than words ever could.

So while we cant all go a-volunteering in Jos…hell, I thought about volunteering for all of 5 minutes, after all I happily considered going to Haiti to help (partly due to the sunshine and heat. Don’t judge me until you’ve witnessed the weave-scattering breeze of the English isles). My volunteering dreams were cut off sharply by the honest admission to myself that I’d much rather die by the earth splitting …than by an Aboki’s swiftly approaching machete. YES, I am your regular garden-variety coward.

Now as a mini-amazon myself *cough* you might be forgiven for grabbing pistons and catapults in the belief that this is some form of call to arms for all Nigerian youth, especially in the diaspora. It is not. (Odiri put down your curling tong…..No, Andie that mascara stick is not the one). Yeah, so its not. This is more to ask for suggestions on ways we can help.

Homies, bestoes, hypothec niggas, children of God, what can we do to help?? I am so sure there must be something that we can do. I thought about donating to the Red Cross for instance? I know, I know it might be a tad late with the number of people already dead but surely if they have even one child in need of treatment whose healing we can contribute to, it might be worth it. We can work individually or as a team…basically I just need suggestions on what I can do to help but I can’t be bothered to ask you all individually….only have 650 free minutes etc.

And a “Let’s just pray for them” won’t do. Sorry.

You See The Problem Is...

2010-02-23T13:11:00.000-08:00

Ok, I have no reason to be blogging at this crucial moment between criminal litigation and tax exams(the fun does NOT stop around these here parts, itoldya!)....BUT, I honestly believe it is my civic duty to disseminate useless information to the plebeians. You might say it's a calling, in fact.

I slack, I slack, I slack but today, yes kneegroes & gentlefolk, today I have found the holy grail that will bring forgiveness for my slacking, renewed confidence in my abilities and joyful smiles all round as angels snap their fingers, diva-like, in beat with this lady-man's tempo.

With many chuckles and genuine fascination, I introduce;

Ask Eefy.

The level to which the English language is slayed in this short clip is frankly, unprecedented.

Solid advice though.Lol.

I heard...

2010-02-13T17:55:00.000-08:00

"My dad told me " When you are in a relationship with a woman you know is too good for you...Marry.Her".

-Ashton Kutcher's character in Valentine's Day.

Favourite Things....Valentine Edition...

2010-02-13T17:41:00.000-08:00

SONNET XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

-Pablo Neruda

Our forefathers say...

2010-02-12T10:37:00.000-08:00

"Na small sh*t dey stain pint*.."

-Warri proverbs from Warri No Dey Carry Last

*[pant]

I heard...

2010-02-12T10:34:00.000-08:00

Grace: "How hot is the new cook?"
Will (looking pained): "He is so hot he doesn't even need to put the cookies in the oven, he just walks past them and winks."

Another stellar line from Will & Grace

"Things Fall Apart, The Centre Can Not Hold..."

Our forefathers say...

2009-12-14T06:53:00.000-08:00

"Lion say na him be the king of the jungle, elephant say him no dey the meeting that day"

-Warri proverbs from Warri No Dey Carry Last

I heard.....

2009-12-14T06:52:00.001-08:00

'Dont treat situations as life or death... otherwise you will die a lot of times'

Foolery

2009-12-14T06:34:00.000-08:00

Now I ask;

"Who dey new star...huh?!"

The ONLY reason I'd become a Twigga* is for the chance to send this video to P. Diddy 'Take that x2' Combs & 112.

Happy Monday! Happy Last week of school! Happy Exam week! Excited for 2010...yes, already. *beams*

*Yes apparently there are Twitter-niggas roaming around these here virtual reality streets...still not sure who they are though. Twitter fans with black thumbs? Or just those sending out Black Panther messages via Twitter? I heard the word from Sheri Shepherd. *Kanye shrug*

2009-09-20T16:25:00.000-07:00

I really love poetry and wish I had the talent and skill to say so much with so little.

Another one of my fave poems and yes, I'm aware my inner cheeseball is showing and wreaking havoc on my e-thug reputation on these mean virtual reality streets;-)

He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven by William Butler Yeats

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams

I heard.....

2009-09-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

Panama: "I'm actually a slight variation of the 'Devil On Your Shoulder' Friend. Then again I'm also the ni99a that will tell you to jump off a bridge if you call me talking about ending your life. Don't talk about it, be about it!...

*Panama on Suicide Hotline*: "You wanna slit your wrists? Well go 'head then! What you calling me fo'??!" *click*..."

-Comment on verysmartbrothas.com

The Lady, Her Lion.....& Her Lawd!

2009-09-18T17:27:00.001-07:00

If you have ever had a weave tightly knit to your skull by way of hair thread and a piercing needle, you would know that the experience of robbing a goat, sheep, horse, or Indian man of his luscious locks, attaching these to your own (probably thinning) mane for your enhanced self-beautification is a complex road to travel.

This process informally called ‘Weaving’ and fancily called‘Artificial Hair Integration' (I kid you not), is most practiced among the Fabulous and Indomitable Negroes of The World. In fact with regards to hair, the average black woman operates strictly on the 'Guilty Until Proven Innocent' theory. Hence, she is immediately suspicious, to the point of paranoia, of any other black woman's hair that is too thick, too full (especially at the nape and temple) AND too long. Where all three are present, the question “Er, excuse me....what weave is this?!?!” is inevitable. Lifelong friendships have been started over hair discussions like this. That's why God gave us our coarse hair and the desire for finer hair... because He knew black women (The Nefrotitis of Fronting) would rather sit pretending not to notice each other even when alone in an empty room than be friendly and make conversation with other pretty black women...or is that just Nigerian girls?! I digress.

I want to make like self-righteous 'PETA', ‘Happy Nappy’, ‘Negroes Keeping It Real’ and other such ‘BLACK & PROUD’ groups and say that the act of moving, shaking and generally enjoying life with an extension-filled head of Chantal Biya proportions...leaving balding and shivering horses or humans in your wake...is a terrible side-effect of the global media and its unattainable and Europeanised standards of beauty and should be condemned post haste.

BUT I remember moments when I have strutted down streets, arms a-swinging, hips a-swaying, men a-whistling, confidence a-emanating(words a-creating)....with artificially integrated hair billowing in the wind as i generate my own breeze and my fabulosity level increases exponentially....and alas, I find that I can not condemn The Weave. The Weave, European ideals of beauty be damned, is a wonderful, wonderful invention that I applaud with gusto. If several sheep have to be sheared for my sake well then so be it. Isaiah 66:1 says, “....the earth is God’s footstool and everything in it....”.....same Bible says “Dont you know that you yourselves are gods?”(1 Corinthians 3:16)...Therefore, the earth is my footstool as a god and as I have dominion over it all...clean-shaven sheep and balding horse are certainly not excluded, PETA be damned! *Looks over her shoulder worriedly*

Today, my issue is not with the rightness of Afroborn ‘sistAHs’ straightening their tightly curled hair using lava-hot temperatures or aluminum-can eroding chemicals to achieve (an ideal of) beauty. As one of such women, a solid partaker of the Cream Crack (alias No Lye Relaxer), I do not think that I have been brainwashed from childhood (as often suggested by Happy Nappy's Against Straight Hair) by the foreign media to believe that Straight is Great anymore than I have been brainwashed by them through watching Eurocentric Anglo-Saxons on my telly, to believe that White is Always Right. Then again if I had indeed been brainwashed of course I would say the same thing....so maybe I have been brainwashed and I don't even know. Or care.

Catch 22 aside, the conspiracy theorist in me will admit that the Disney Princesses, Jem and The Holograms, Sky Dancers and so on, all seemed to have been secret Protene Pro-V advertisements, with their long gleaming locks. And maybe the subconscious message was indeed indoctrinated into our innocent and rather vacuous minds that straight (AND loooong, I’m an unashamed 18inches Premium Human Hair addict baybay!!!) is the ideal of beauty. But if it indeed was, why are we not also strolling about with the bright pink/neon green/pale orange bushy 80’s hair of many a Hannah Barbera heroine too?

Somehow, along the line (as is always the case whenever a group voluntarily and often unnecessarily decides to take on an imagined slight on behalf of a whole race/minority/ethnic group/country/tribe/hut/anthill, who more often than not could not possibly care less if they tried) too many people bandwagon the original cause, the cause is diluted, confused or just plain deviates from its original path and like a stoneless Hansel and Gretel, all the sheeplike followers are led away from Grandmamas cottage, straight to the too good to be true Witches Guesthouse.

So, on the weave debate, a group of happy nappys decided that all those who dared to change their God-given locks by covering, straightening, gel-ing, hot-combing, burning straight via relaxer, or exchanging it for sure-as-hell-doesnt-look-like-it-grew-from-your-scalp-lace fronts were in some way terrible people who were deeply ashamed of their race ad heritage and want to be white by conforming to someone else’s standards of beauty. *Shrugs* It's not that serious. Brainwashed or not, if my hair refuses to graze the small of my back despite all my efforts, best believe I will rob many a sheep, goat OR she-goat to get the look I want. To define a full, rounded, 3D human being by only their hair is The Daftness and that is the kind of brainwashing that we as a world should be more afraid of.

Now, as a faithful weave fiend, I have to say that one thing that causes me pause in the Hamletesque ‘To Weave or Not To Weave’ debate, and indeed one thing I think the race should focus on and find an answer to in lieu of arguing about skin complexions and hair is; HOW THE HELL DOES ONE GET AIR INTO THE SCALP WHEN ONE HAS A WEAVE?!?! I beg you I need an answer because I have seen grown women almost give themselves a concussion from knocking their heads with palms splayed wide in the name of fixing an itch in their now untouchable skulls. I have also witnessed incredibly intelligent women come frighteningly close to scalping themselves as they try to maneuver a tiny but incredibly sharp object through the crevices of their weave, between and betwixt the fields of neatly corn-rowed hair to itchy scalps. Hell, I have BEEN those women!

As a race, in fact forget that, as a world we need to come up with the answer to this perplexing conundrum before black women become extinct from concussions and scalping. The alternative is to bring back the 70’s; spandex, neon and unpicked afros......”Oh Miss Wintour.....”

See Chris Rock's 'Good Hair'

I heard.....

2009-09-18T17:21:00.000-07:00

"AIDS is a commercial strategy to market condoms"-With ignorance like this, its no wonder AIDS took on a wildfire quality in Africa.

I'mmmmmmm Baaaaaaaaaacccccccckkk!!!!!

2009-08-26T18:05:00.000-07:00

So I’m back like a nasty weave on an oblivious negro’s head, after a test that shook the very foundation of my soul, an exam that found me looking hard at my image in the mirror proclaiming “Self, e be like say water don pass garri oh!” Yes, I was remorselessly humbled. By mere ink.

In my time away I also ventured into the cemented plains of the modern jungle. I trudged through the wild terrains of the ‘dark’ continent a.k.a Da Tod World. I went to one of my fave places in the whole wide world, Nigeria. You know that no one appreciates drama like Nigerians, we love, revere, worship and ensure it has its glorious moments. So tales on the motherland shall be coming soon;-)

But I digress.

Today’s exactly one month from the day I took the bar exam. By this time last month I was in a room with many other confused souls, trying to lie our way through an exam that was solely created to measure endurance not intelligence. The 2 days of the NY bar were an entertaining experience, I realised for the umpteenth time why I despise lawyers so. The Buffalo centre was the smallest in the country but somehow we managed to account for almost five thousand souls. Yes, all jockeying to be lawyers. Why?!?!?

I hate lawyers. Put many lawyers in one place and you soon realise that we are the most egotistical, arrogant and annoying group of homo-sapiens in the world’s oxygen space. From the insufferable know-it-all’s in the Yale hoodies to those masking inferiority complexes by wearing superior sneers in their University ‘at’ Buffalo hoodies (until you see the 'grimy-ness' of Buffalo, you may not fully appreciate my eternal irritation with the members of this university who were actually bold enough to act superior, brave enough to brandish their school hoodies in such a public gathering and brazen enough to act superior WHILE wearing said hoodie. Er….you need more people, 2 midgets AND a dwarf to confirm that you are indeed as great as you keep telling us you are- Signed, the other 3559 billion humans.)

The test lasted for 2 days and after having to leave our hotel at half 7 each morning, best believe I was too inrritated (and nervous) to stomach students, uncles & grandparents alike, boasting of their numerous qualifications (which is what talkative lawyers love to do with their free time; acting like they are in a perpetual courtroom with the entire world their willing listeners).

Man: “Oh, I am just doing this just for fun, I am qualified in Wyoming, Kansas and Oaklahoma, I just thought it would be fun to see how easy the New York state bar exam is. I don’t need it”

Me*thinks*: "WELL THEN, SIT YO OL' ASS AT HOME THEN or reduce your volume here!"

OR the lady whispering word for word Property Law, exactly as it was written in the book…all while her face got redder as she held her breath in a bid to remember every 'is', 'or '& 'of'…Oh how I longed for her to cast her mind towards the 'go', 'to' & 'hell' categories. *Sigh*.

For some reason I was seated at the very centre of some students from Syracruse University(it's o.k to draw a blank at this point) who insisted on loudly conversing with each other like so: “John, remember when we did Homicide in Torts with Professor McDermott and I got the highest grade in the class?" To which John would reply in the affirmative and go on to replace thay story with a tale of his own Legal Herculean feats. All such tales always ended with the teller achieving glorious grades. In other words, they are smart people. (Again, dear midgets and solo dwarf, we need your presence in confirmation of these dubious tales.)

The last straw as far as I was concerned were the 2 Nigerian ladies…you know say Nigeria no dey carry last! Wherever there are humans congregating, Nigerians must be counted in their number. Nefarious or honourable, Naija must dey. So there I was, after the first round of questions had played Ludo with my emotions, sitting alone outside at break time, meditating on my life; trying hard to not consider alternative careers as lawyers around me boasted of the great feats their intelligent brains allowed them to achieve in the exam hall. I was taking my anger out on my sandwhich and picking on my meagre lunch, when came these two ladies who like Miss Muppet’s Spider, sat down beside me. I knew from ‘Go!’ that these two ladies came from the Western zones of Mama Africa.

Was it the gel-packing hair style of the first woman? Or the red and gold braids reminiscent of that wayward singer Patra *dips & falls back* that scraped the second ladies bum? Or the slipper-sandal concoctions with their mutli patterned and multi-coloured surface and pointed tip so sharp each lady could, I suspect, stand on one shoe and draw a perfect circle with the other leg of her shoe….so pointed were the shoes' tips. Such was its compass-like quality.

The bright coloured matching top and trouser spandex/lycra combination reminiscent of nollywood starlets like Ini Edo just added to the general vibe of that ‘Nigerian Aunty With The Sweetest Gist About Everyone’. I was already smiling before they sat down. My smile quickly turned into a full blown laugh as they, oblivious to the fascinated face watching them, began to discuss their exam tactics; apparently after not doing any studying they had taken the exam on a whim and with much prayer and fasting. They claimed they were assured of success. When confronted with questions that looked like they were written in rural Japanese, Lady One said she just dropped her pencil, slept for a while….then awoke and began to pray and ask the spirit to “….just do the work, I don’t want to do anything.” She opened her eyes and just began to shade any answer on the objective test answer sheet. All led by the spirit.

I was hard pressed to tell her that the Chinese girl next to me also employed this tactic…she slept for half the time, woke up and began shade. Without once glancing at the question paper. I wonder what spirit spoke to her.

I Heard.....

2009-08-26T16:35:00.000-07:00

"Education is a wonderful thing, provided you always remember that nothing worth knowing can ever be taught."

-Reason #2, 045 Oscar Wilde remains the one person in history I would have loved to meet. Somehow I suspect he would have been my gay best friend.

Fin.

2009-07-25T23:53:00.000-07:00

I cant believe I am about to leave Berkeley. *insert sad face here*....Almost exactly a year ago, I left the rainy shores of Londres for sunny California...to fully manage and damage Da Wesssss' Coasssst!lol!....Sorting through my stuff, I found the very first email I wrote to my friends when I got here....and I had to smile....Who would have thought I'd have such an AMAZING year?!?!?!?!...

"Hello

Got this idea from Miss S**** to send a message en masse as opposed to sending indivdual text messages which I cant really do now because not only do I have a life(I keed, I keeeeeed) but also it would cost me too much and frankly I wouldnt be able to say everything I wanted to.

So first of all, I MISS YOU TERRIBLY!!! true talk.please ring me.5********7.I HAVE A BLACKBERY now so I need all your blackberry pins so we can chat. Or I need u all to go get blackberrys!

Now on to the last gruelling weeks details. So, I arrived in Washington on Saturday afternoon, after an eventful last night at Los Locos...thanks again you guys;-)...was in Washington till tuesday, got my plane to San Fran....it took abt 8 hours!!! People, can I just warn u that Americans are possessed!?!! Please cheap tickets or not, DO NOT USE U.S AIRLINES. Not only were the flight attendants aged...no seriously I mean museum type ancient but you also had to buy the (crappy) airline food!!!! 8hours of torture.

Anyways, so I landed at the airport hoping my friend in Stanford E** would come get me as promised...she was no where to be found....finally got in touch wih her. she was just waking up from sleep!!! PANIC! Ok, this is San Francisco, the modern day Sodom and Gomorrah, literally. Apparently it has a 60% gay count. While I didnt bump into any flamboyantly dressed yet coquettish drag queens, I was still very afraid. Anyway, so E** sent her friend to come get me instead. Granted I was angry but I was just relieved to be getting home. finally.

So, drove to berkeley which is about 40 mins from San Fran and is a city of its own, got to my apartment, opened the door...sighing with relief, twiched the light switch and alas, people of God, THERE WAS NO ELECTRICITY! Yes, dear friends, this was an "UP NEPA" moment. But one i didnt need. As if that wasnt enough, my apartment was absolutely empty! Not a stitch of furniure to be found anywhere!I almost died.

Seeing the depression on my face, E**'s friend offered to drive me to E**'s place in Stanford....turns out this city is beyond massive. It took us 1.45 to get there. Without traffic.

Next day spent the day shopping for my furniture...used a taxi back to my place from stanford. Had to endure the taxi driver's complaints about how loading furniture is not his job etc. Apparently, he only did it because im his African sister. Right.

Oh and did i mention that I live about ten minutes walk from a ghetto. Oh yes, a real G-Unit style-rap-about-me-ghetto. I mean between the MamaJo's soul food restaurant, the du-ragg'd out knee-groes and the old man in fela-style pants ambling to his balcony to 'holla at his niggahs' literally, my taxi driver kindly infomed me that the area looked like a place where drive-by shootings where common place. Suffice to say i wasnt impressed by that observation.
Anyways, in all of this I still have no electricity and have had to sleep with candles all over my room...romantic, if not for the slightly Olumba-shrine like feel of it.

Orientation was today and my ENTIRE year is full of the aged ones....the impressively c.v'd, terribly bright but still aged. Wow...looks like i might just be the class dunce then.joy.

Anyways, thats my little rant. I still have no electricity...Until tomorrow evening. they're shooing us out of the library now. Please ring me!"

Turns out I didnt infact have electricity for 5 whole days....(Tod world in the Fost world....or 3rd world in the 1st world, if you like). AND the allegedly aged and impressively cv'd turned out to be some of my best.friends.ever....dont judge a book & all that goodness.

Next time I write,I will be over the BAR.Literally.Meditate on that sweetness.

But for now...Bye Bye Berkeley; a place where the freedom to question, to express and to.just.be, is neither mocked nor revered but respected as a fundamental human right. And, apparently, where a grown-ass man may freely stroll about in a corset with nary an eyelid being batted in his direction. Vive liberté!

Failure Stopped Being An Option In The Nursery.

2009-07-19T14:55:00.000-07:00

Its seriously looking like everyone has given up on passing this exam and its weighing my spirit down*insert sad face here*....if i hear one more person casually talk about retaking this bloody exam in February, I WILL indeed take it to a "hold my earrings moment." I have said it before and I will reiterate, I WILL only do this exam once. And I will pass. By God's grace.

Today I feel like;

¹ I cry out to God; yes, I shout.
      Oh, that God would listen to me!
    ² When I was in deep trouble,
      I searched for the Lord.
   All night long I prayed, with hands lifted toward heaven,
      but my soul was not comforted.
    ³ I think of God, and I moan,
      overwhelmed with longing for his help.Interlude

    ⁴ You don’t let me sleep.
      I am too distressed even to pray!
    ⁵ I think of the good old days,
      long since ended,
    ⁶ when my nights were filled with joyful songs.
      I search my soul and ponder the difference now.
    ⁷ Has the Lord rejected me forever?
      Will he never again be kind to me?
    ⁸ Is his unfailing love gone forever?
      Have his promises permanently failed?
    ⁹ Has God forgotten to be gracious?
      Has he slammed the door on his compassion?Interlude

   ¹⁰ And I said, “This is my fate;
      the Most High has turned his hand against me.”
   ¹¹ But then I recall all you have done, O Lord;
      I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago.
   ¹² They are constantly in my thoughts.
      I cannot stop thinking about your mighty works.

   ¹³ O God, your ways are holy.
      Is there any god as mighty as you?
   ¹⁴ You are the God of great wonders!
      You demonstrate your awesome power among the nations.
   ¹⁵ By your strong arm, you redeemed your people,
      the descendants of Jacob and Joseph.Interlude

   ¹⁶ When the Red Sea^[a] saw you, O God,
      its waters looked and trembled!
      The sea quaked to its very depths.
   ¹⁷ The clouds poured down rain;
      the thunder rumbled in the sky.
      Your arrows of lightning flashed.
   ¹⁸ Your thunder roared from the whirlwind;
      the lightning lit up the world!
      The earth trembled and shook.
   ¹⁹ Your road led through the sea,
      your pathway through the mighty waters—
      a pathway no one knew was there!
   ²⁰ You led your people along that road like a flock of sheep,
      with Moses and Aaron as their shepherds.

I know God, of whom shall I be afraid. A mere exam?

"Not I" said the cat.

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Take it to churchhhhhhhh!!!! waves fan rapidly screaming Halle-loooo-jah!!

Take it to churchhhhhhhh!!!! waves fan rapidly screaming Halle-loooo-jah!!