The Good Shepherd

ghost in the shell

2010-02-06T22:21:00.060Z

‘Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.’

Psalm 139: 23-24

Yet, I stay here still. I should leave... just walk away... but as I'm unsure of myself, my soul remains bound to its shell; confined. Am I only free to expand myself within boundaries that have been created? In truth all things change so perhaps it is my efforts to stay the same that have limited me. Perhaps that is why a love that I had craved so much was simply unable to break down my walls and complete me.

Sometimes I wished I had not dreamed this dream so hard... perhaps then I would not have felt so lost when Reverie became reality. Till today, I have no idea why I stood silent, like a dumb mute, with no answers to his gestures. My ghost whispers contemptuously ‘ghost-hacked humans are so pathetic, it's a shame’. I can only sigh in agreement as I tell out my soul.

All I want to do now is pretend it was just a simulated experience. False, like a dream. Yet it happened. My fantasy was real. My ghost whispers sadly ‘we weep for the blood of a bird, but not for the blood of a fish. Blessed are those with a voice’. I cannot weep because I do not know how I lost mine, yet I bleed.

I dare not dream anymore. My voice is gone. My actions seem to echo those of a coward. But I tried. I swear I tried... so much so that even distance could not come between us. My ghost whispers mockingly ‘no matter how far a jackass travels, it will never return a horse’. My thoughts shift suddenly to Italy. Alone in Milan with the lure of speed as my only friend. Life raced by me that September weekend but somehow it failed to take my hopes with it.

Just a whisper. I hear it in my ghost.
Reverie.

Today, again, he is close by. However, today is the first time in a long time, that I have chosen not to reach out. I do so, not to punish him but myself; should he not notice. Perhaps this will finally prove to me that when he looks at me, he sees in me only golem; an absence of form yet to be shaped from mud. Yet do I not already know this to be untrue? Simply because he helped fix my fragmented form. He stopped my heart's demise and then reconstructed my being using the clays of hope on the river banks of my tears. Happily, I morphed. I became the child of a dream. I laugh as I look up to the heavens, not in wonderment but with a certainty that ‘life perpetuates itself through diversity and this includes the ability to sacrifice itself when necessary’. Yet when I look within, inside my Section 9, I have no idea of how to cope with a such a loss. Major.

Just a whisper. I hear it in my ghost.
Aemaeth.

Perhaps I am the unknown puppet master that has been pulling my own strings; forcing myself to remember… how he pulled me close… his kiss… the times he made love to me. What of my feelings for the future?... were they just mere trick modes? This thought alone cuts me; causing a solitary sob to escape from me mid-flight. I begin to plummet into a cloud of despair. I am bleeding more now but still I choose to go... to forget. I fear that when next I hear him call my name my heart will soar again with childish joy and instinctively, I will turn and run back... I always have. Sometimes I wish my heart would turn to stone instead of being set alight by the blaze of his warmth. I look to the mirror; searching for my truth. My ghost whispers scornfully ‘when one’s face is distorted why you should blame the mirror? The mirror doesn’t help to enlighten but rather to confuse’. So I stop staring at myself and I rub my forehead; robbing it of truth.

Just a whisper. I hear it in my ghost.
Maeth.

Looking back, I realise that the universe conspired to keep us apart. What could be… cannot. The dream must die, for I choose to live. I finally understand. I hug my ghost as it whispers reassuringly ‘life and death come and go like marionettes dancing on a table. Once their strings are cut, they easily crumble’.

Good Shepherd, I know not of tomorrow so just for tonight all I dare ask is ‘let one walk alone, committing no sin, with few wishes, like elephants in the forest’. Please.

sex, lies &...4. blackberry

2010-01-13T10:34:00.025Z

Ash: Shubby Doo. You! Left Lagos without saying goodbye
Shubby Doo: Sorry sweetie. How now?
Ash: I'm good. So now I find out that you're a baaaaaaaaaaaaad girl. Interesting ;) Now you must tell
Shubby Doo: Rules say just the score o! Besides you know I'm an angel
Ash: Angels barely get 100. I'm on 335 so I wanna know about your score
Shubby Doo: Crap, yours is lower than mine... o lawdy! :S
Ash: Yeah yeah just tell
Shubby Doo: How about you first?
Ash: You know I will tell you but you on ther other hand are the wild card!!!
Shubby Doo: LOL...ok maybe I was little naughty but I'm still so nice!!! ;)

So I’m wondering whether to lie or keep quiet... besides if I lie, the numbers won't add up and that means more explanations. Silence is best I think... definitely going the strong silence route... silence is that one thing that is so fragile that saying it breaks it.

But I do plan to have a little fun with him. You see his inquisition (on predominantly my sexual exploits) is because this turned up on my blackberry yesterday night… I read it and decided to play along so I tallied up my dues and I changed my status accordingly.

Feel free to have a go... and let me know your score!

This is fun to do. Just read the 'offence' and if you've done it, you owe that fine. You don't have to confess your answers, just the amount of your fine.
NOTE fines to be added once, not for how ever many times you have done it....
Put in your profile My fine is £XX (whatever amount is!)

01. Smoked weed -- £10
02. Did acid or pills -- £5
03. Ever had sex at church -- £25
04. Woke up in the morning & didn't know the person who was next to you -- £40
05. Had sex with someone on MySpace/Facebook/Bebo etc -- £25
06. Had sex for money -- £100
07. Ever had sex with a Puerto Rican -- £20
08. Vandalised something -- £20
09. Had sex on your parents' bed -- £10
10. Beat up someone -- £20
11. Been jumped -- £10
12. Cross dressed -- £10
13. Given money to stripper -- £25
14. Been in love with a stripper -- £20
15. Kissed someone who's name you didn't know -- £0.10
16. Hit on some one of the same sex while at work -- £15
17. Ever drive and drank -- £20
18. Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- £50
19. Used toys while having sex -- £30
20. Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- £20
21. Went skinny dipping -- £5
22. Had sex in a pool -- £20
23 Kissed someone of the same sex -- £10
24. Had sex with someone of the same sex -- £20
25. Cheated on your significant other -- £10
26. Masturbated -- £10
27. Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend -- £20
28. Done oral -- £5
29. Got oral -- £5
30. Done / got oral in a vehicle while it was moving -- £25
31. Stole something -- £10
32. Had sex with someone in jail -- £25
33. Made a nasty home video or took pictures -- £15
34. Had a threesome -- £50
35. Had sex in public -- £20
36. Been in the same room while someone was having sex --£25
37. Stole something worth over more than a hundred quid -- £20
38. Had sex with someone 10 years older -- £20
39. Had sex with someone ten years younger -- £25
40. Been in love with two people or more at the same time-- £50
41. Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- £25
42. Went streaking -- £5

How much do u owe?

I owe £430... damn!!!!... Actually I'm going to reduce it to £405... I didn't meet them via fb so fb doesnt count jare!

Ash: I'm still wating oooooooooo!
Shubby Doo: LOL. Night Ash
Ash: Sweet dreams

sweet november

2009-11-10T00:07:00.008Z

‘What a difference a day makes
Twenty four little hours…
…What a difference a day made
And the difference is…’

er… the difference is ME!

*Singing & Dancing*
‘...As you see me so
Edumare don bless me oh...’

I’ve changed but yet I’m still me. The clock struck 12 midnight a few minutes ago and thus rang in my birthday. My only tradition for years, on the day, is popping on a destiny’s child single called ‘birthday’ from their first album…

*Singing*
‘It’s your birthday you have to do nothing’… er… except go to work!!!

Good Shepherd thanks for all the mountains you've moved so I could have another today.

who stole the car?

2009-09-28T13:41:00.003+01:00

orisirisi

2009-08-27T16:09:00.015+01:00

I love the fact that as human being we have the free will to choose to do something. This is usually preceeded by some consideration of the merits (or demerits) of numerous options before selecting a course of action.

I remember a quote from one of Neale Donald Walsch's books... ‘Every decision you make—every decision—is not a decision about what to do. It’s a decision about Who You Are’. I guess that's why the thought process behind the decision is also an important one.

Making a choice is itself a problem as the there is no way to always determine all the actual resulting outcomes it causes. So all causes have a beginning… actually, in truth, all causes are the beginning because for every cause there is an effect.

On Tuesday night, I instinctively chose to pick up the ringing phone in my hotel room as I was aimlessly surfing the internet. On the line, was one of the Principals I worked for; however, he wasn't calling to discuss tomorrow’s meeting, instead he wanted to know if I would say yes to his gesture which was supposedly innocent but actually sheepishly disguised.

His choice: Engaging in pretence to get me into a comprising position…

My choice: Pondering the rationale behind his stupid behaviour after my initial repulse…

I politely declined as I had already watched the film ‘The Departed’.

Maybe he thought I would eventually depart from my senses and that is why he chose to continue in hope; after all hope is the quintessential human delusion... or peharps he was under the illusion that if he persisted I would realise that I had no other choice but to agree to what he was proposing because as my Principal Consultant, he was the one with the authority.

My reaction: Indignation!

His reaction: Embarrassment!

Can someone please give a valid reason as to why in hell I would leave my hotel room for a married man’s room to perch on his bed at 10:45pm under the pretext of watching a DVD?

No… I didn’t think so!

Mscheeeeeeeeeeeeew!!!

la saucisse

2009-07-24T01:42:00.015+01:00

I was 14.

On a school trip.

Somehow sex seemed to be everywhere.

The night before, we had come across soft porn on television in the hotel room. I recoiled in horror, thinking I must be in the wrong picture... only for me to look out of our balcony to see two gay men having sex on theirs.

C'est Paris. C'est la vie.

Luckily, the next day was going to be all about Euro Disney (or is it Disneyland Paris now?)... it was strictly PG13 stuff... Mickey Mouse... Minnie Mouse… Daffy Duck… Snow white and the Seven Dwarfs… Goofy… Cinderella… Belle and the Beast… but in truth I was just excited to see Looney Tunes’ finest… Bugs Bunny…

On our way to the theme park, I suddenly found my gaze drawn away from the chatter of girls around me.

I looked out of the window.

I’m not sure what I expected to see... definitely not a man driving erratically near our coach. At first I was afraid. Then I was confused. I kept wondering why he kept throwing glances at coach full of pubescent girls and laughing hysterically; the apparent cause of his bad driving.

A small gasp escaped from my lips as he took one hand off the wheel and lowered it. I knew now that it wasn’t me that was crazy, just him.

Vidya saw my expression and stopped, mid conversation. ‘Girl, what’s wrong?’, she questioned as she leaned over to nudge me. Then she was staring too. Others that had observed our abrupt silence, got up to look out of the window; only to be confronted by the same feeling of disbelief and discomfort.

Which was due to?

The simply fact that the man had whipped out his wiener… and then proceeded to knead his soft sausage... moist.

Jigger, fellers.

It was the first time I had seen one in real life… reddish/purple… swollen… & erect...

I turned my head away. My throat felt dry and tight as I swallowed hard.

At our destination, I tried to push his image to the back of my mind as we were given instructions of when and where we were to meet periodically throughout the day. Soon I was completely distracted of all thoughts that had nothing to do with fun as we hurried to queue for ride after ride; completely intent on enjoying every attraction at the theme park.

Before long, we realised it was time for lunch. After deciding where to eat, we made our way into the food counter. My nausea re-surfaced at the sight of the menu. Not one to miss a thing, Vidya started laughing as she collected her order and said ‘What up prune-face? Aren’t you going to order? Go on... I dare you’. Then just before she took a big bite out of her ready meal, she continued in her best René accent, ‘allo allo… ze flashing knobs... is zat's vot it's all about?’.

I eyed her and hissed.

Then I turned back to the counter and ordered. ‘Les frites, s'il vous plait. C'est ça’.

Hotdogs were simply off my menu…

remember the time

2009-06-25T23:57:00.001+01:00

In my hotel room in Manchester, I hear that Michael Jackson is in hospital... suffering from cardiac arrest...within minutes Sky News changes it breaking news to say there is an unconfirmed report from TMZ that he is dead.

I sit up in disbelief. I'm feeling weak... sick to my stomach... just like the time I found out that Princess Diana had died; another person whose end was tragic... in my mind both gave so much in life.

My phone rings... it's Niata calling from Nigeria, crying.

My blackberry starts singing again... and again... and again... I check... more new messages about Michael Jackson...

On facebook I see only one new status update... then I see another... then another... I add my own status update to facebook... more and more are updated as each minute passes.... many saying RIP MJ... some saying MJ is just in hospital... others saying don't kill him with your mouth... and one saying he's not dead until CNN says so... so I start to hope again... why? because it is the quintessentially human.

Then LA Times confirm he is gone...and finally CNN do too.

I keep watching the news; then memories of him...HIStory... his songs... come flooding into my mind...

I remember watching Thriller through my fingers as a child and being scared shitless... I remember Billie Jean, Beat It, Wanna be Starting Something... I remember trying to do the moonwalk after watching Motown 25 and failing miserably. To be honest, one of the actual reasons I started learning ballet at the age of 9 was because I wanted to be an En Pointe dancer... there was nothing cooler than being able to stand up on your toes... it was MJ's signature move!!!

I remember Bad... especially, how badly I wanted to be like Tatiana Thumbtzen who featured in his music video for The Way You Make Me Feel. I remember trying to spot the stars/celebrities littered in his Liberian Girl music video... all the time forgetting that I hadn't seen Micheal Jackson until the very end. I remember his other songs like Man in the Mirror, Dirty Diana, I Just Can't Stop Loving You and of course that famous anti gravity lean in the music video for Smooth Criminal...

Please who can forget his epic song We Are the World?... not me... never me...

What about his songs from the Dangerous Album?... Black or White ... OMG, I remember Maizah trying to teach a whole bunch of us at boarding school the dance moves in the music video Remember the Time. I remember Naomi Campbell in In the Closet as well as Michael Jordon in Jam... I remember waiting endlessly to watch the UK music video exlcusive of Who Is It on TV and then thinking chai... na wa for billionaire's boys club escort agency o!!!... I remember re-playing his song Will You Be There… I played that song over and over again in my dorm room in school so I could learn the lyrics.

I remember crying to his Heal the World song... I remember his song Gone Too Soon. *sighs* ... at only 50 years old... isn't that just the truth?!

I remember the amazing visual effects in the Scream music video when it was released... just watching Janet Jackson and her older brother left me in complete awe... funnily enough, I only just watched that same video on some music channel about 2 weeks ago and still thought it to be awesome.

I remember smiling as I watched Michael Jackson's Scarecrow Ease on down the Road with Diana Ross's Dorothy in the film 'The Wiz'.

I will always remember the time I found out that Michael Jackson died.

RIP Michael Jackson... your legacy lives on... know your music was the greatest... it touched so many... the man in the mirror made that change... I'm forever your fan... even though you are gone and I can no longer Rock With You... know still... You Rock My World.

jimmy choo

2009-06-24T08:18:00.000+01:00

Jimmy Choo is coming to H&M...apologies in advance to all those I'ma elbow outta my way to get a pair...or two pairs...or three pairs...needs must!!!

lord of war

2009-06-17T10:20:00.059+01:00

That should probably read 'Lords of Wars'... becos both don plenty pass o! Apologies for my absence but I’ve dealing with too many family issues these past weeks… it’s been really HARD keeping up appearances because I just want to explode… family politics is just the shits!… all this because everybody in the House of Agbada Daggers seems content to ‘just throw one's toys out of the pram’… honestly the nursery is in a right royal mess.

‘Always resort to your native tongue in times of anger. And in times of ecstasy’
Really?! Ok sha but na pidgin I go use because e be like say dis mosquito na malaria o!!!... *SMDH*... so make I yarn my tory now make una fit understand wetin dey do me abi?

‘The problem with gun runners going to war, is that there is no shortage of ammunition’
Na true talk be dat o! You see wen money miss road go make mouth… anoda one go make yeye yab am finish… I no even fit support am… who tell am say make he dey carry woman up and down.

Instead wey make chuku chuku pour water for fire he go dey side with cry baby… chuku chuku one no even vex me jare… everybody don know say na corner corner dat one dey do pass… me, I wan laugh wen I hear say he dey tell person make dem chop bullet everytime he wan land... na wa o! Abi him too wan come say all of us no sabi dat na woman wrapper dey do both of dem... from time!!!... mscheeww.

‘The first and most important rule of gunrunning is, never get shot with your own merchandise.’
Wen I see say wahala dey ground, I come say make I try talk small... sotai I talk say na condition dey make crayfish bend… say make we open eye for compound make arm robber no enter… dem no wan hear word… say make I carry go... Na so I come see say dem fit chook me too o!... so me sef I kuku comot for road jejely make dey no use my own join am…

‘They say, "Evil prevails when good men fail to act." What they ought to say is, "Evil prevails."’
From nowhere dem come face gorimpka cry blood… say make he carry dey go… ehnnn? Becos why?! Why dem dey do like fool don pass garri? Please help me beg o!… I no even sabi how he enter wahala with dem… but e be like say na becos he no wan put eye dia.

Fear catch me no be small sha wen I hear dat one sha… mind tell me say make I rush go collect am cos e no even get money enter molue or machine or carbu carbu…

‘You know who's going to inherit the Earth? Arms dealers. Because everyone else is too busy killing each other. That's the secret to survival. Never go to war.’
Wen I reach, see am tanda dia, I tell say make he dey come. Na so moro moro come dey talk tory wey get many leg… dat pololo own no be de only one wey dey for ground... dat na kill and divide cry baby dey do since... say we just dey think say na fren fren dey do am but e be like say chuku chuku wan use style take garri from all our mouth… say im don see say serious wahala already dey for ground already... dat na why he no wan put fire for dis talk... he just dey try patch am.

I just siddon dey look am…I no even fit find mouth talk again… e be like say bad belle don plenty o!... today na today... abi na craze?!!!...*sighs*…

‘They say that I am the lord of war, but perhaps it is you.’
Make I talk true... before before na me dem dey face... as per, if trouble dey na my name dem go first call... dis time sha, I'm truly trying to help where I can even though I don't do stress... this time, ‘I am a man of peace; but when I speak, they are for war.’ Psalm 120:6-7... their irrational human behaviour is just beyond me... so much so, they ALL make me want to SCREAM!!!

Honestly, man pickin don tire!... for now I wash my hands of all the nonesense jare…

p.s
Good Shepherd abeg no vex but needs must… man no die, man no rotten. I know you understand.

364 days at Peking

2009-05-30T07:49:00.017+01:00

‘…A Squash vine grew beneath a towering tree.
In only twenty days it grew and spread and put forth fruit.
Of the tree it asked: 'How old are you? How many years?'
Replied the tree: 'Two hundred it would be, and surely more.'
The squash laughed and said: 'Look, in twenty days, I've done
More than you; tell me, why are you so slow?'
The tree responded: 'O little Squash, today is not the day of
reckoning between the two of us'
'Tomorrow, when winds of autumn howl down on you and me, then shall it be known for sure which one of us is the most resilient…’

Nasir Khusraw

Above is how I started my very first post.

I've stayed in this foreign land for almost a year... a year on 1st June to be exact.

I have met many new friends on this ‘journey’... including a blogger quite dear to me... better known to all here as Allied... I had the pleasure of meeting her about two weeks ago on my trip to USA.

You have met Shubby Doo and Flying Snow.

Here, I have tried to hold true to the fact that I never wanted this to be my ‘boxer rebellion’ despite the fact that this in itself is a secret society. This escape has been somewhat of a ‘battle’ because unlike ‘the boxers’, I have constantly worried that this incarnation of me would not be impervious to blades or invincible against the ‘fire spears’ of foreigners

Despite my fears, in this ‘Peking’, I have tried to stay true to myself.

Have I succeeded? I guess only The Good Shepherd truly knows :-)

So for the simply fact that in 364 days I never actually chose to ‘escape from Peking to Xian’, I'm going to celebrate this occasion by saying ‘Happy 1 year anniversary’ to this blogspot.

Blogville has been a rich experience to remember...

may days

2009-05-04T18:42:00.022+01:00

May Day conjures up a time when the weather is warmer… flowers start to blossom... just like friendships. Yesterday, I went to ShonaVixen’s for lunch and also met up with Afrobabe, Confessions of a London gal, Jayla and Wordmerchant… all for the first time... I don’t think any of us left hers before 11:30pm... I had a fab time... ladies, it was simply a pleasure.

May is also the time that falls approximately halfway between the spring equinox and summer solstice... a time for love and romance. Well just in case cupid has decided to take time off as Labour Day… I’m off too… Flying Snow will be living it up James Bond style... lol... ok, not quite but I do have three trips planned; two of which are holidays... so be it for work or play... I'm calling these escapades my May Days.

So let me tell you about where I will be and see if you can guess... feel free to also let me know your reasoning :-)

The 1st holiday is mid month… with Tweet… and guess what?!!!… we are planning on going skydiving again!!! So I guess this is the ‘Live and Let Die’ holiday… while there, I will visit places where the Hudson divides. At some point I will become its girl but hopefully not its devil...

Where am I?
Caribbean
Jamaica
USA

The 2nd holiday is the weekend after… and it’s with Niata and Cameron… we are exploring two countries…

Initially, Niata and I will fly to the crossroads of the Pannonian Plain. Cameron will join us later as we explore a greek, roman, venetian and austro-hungarian schizoid that managed to capture the sea journeys of Dragonheart… this country features in the film ‘From Russia with Love’ although we will not be in Russia…

Where am I?
Croatia
Italy
Serbia
Turkey

Cameron, Niata and I will drive across the boarder to another country; previously ruled by bishop princes but now known as the Monaco of the Adriatic. Consider this as our ‘Casino Royale’ break away…

Where am I?
Bahamas
Czech Republic
Italy
Montenegro
Pakistan
Uganda
USA

I get back on the Wednesday and from then on it will be all work again… you see first thing on Thursday, I have to drive to Manchester for a conference… Friday morning, I’ll drive back down south at a leisurely pace; heading straight for work. On Saturday, I fly out for a week … I'm giving no clues on this one I'm afraid so feel free to just guess... but bear in mind that what they say is true… ‘The World Is Not Enough’…

Where am I?
Azerbaijan
Kazakhstan
Spain
Turkey

Oh Happy Days!

p.s
To the five ladies mentioned above, as well as Rocnaija, you are allowed to comment but not about the locations... I know that you know ;-)

pp.s
Disobey me and I will attack the blogroll!!!

fair is foul and foul is fair

2009-04-17T13:09:00.041+01:00

Resturant, London. August 2006
‘I wish I could pay for lunch but you know I’m not working.’
So I Paid.
‘He likes you but I want you to know that he invited me over to his place but I didn’t go. I said it was because my mother is in town.’
So I shook my head.

Café, London. August 2006
‘OMG, I told him and his friend that you were seeing someone but he had no right to call you in anger about it. I’m happy you told him off.’
So I sighed.
‘He and I got talking and I think we clicked. Maybe I understand him more than you do.’
So I nodded in agreement.
‘That night, he walked me home and we had this moment where we nearly kissed.’
So I choked back the laughter and smiled.
‘I found out that he and Terry slept together that night that he walked me home. He went back for her. She knew he liked me. What a bitch!!!’
So I sympathised.

Work. September 2006
‘Come with me to Lyon. It’s my friend’s wedding.’
So I agreed.
‘It’s not that I cannot afford it but can’t you book my ticket with your air miles?’
So I made up an excuse and declined.
‘Well I told him we were going on holiday but I don’t know why he’d want to call you last night.’
So I told her it was to wish me journey’s mercies.

Airport, London. October 2006
‘The airline didn’t fly my luggage out on my flight.’
So I confirmed that it was on my flight and called her back.

Airport, Lyon. October 2006
‘You know that calling you about my luggage finished my credit’.
So I told her about roaming charges.

Hotel, Lyon. October 2006
‘I know we are sharing but are you going to pay for the hotel for both nights?’
So I said no and watched as she begrudgingly paid for the second night.
‘Thanks for letting me use your phone. I was going to call my brother because I need credit but I can’t get through. I am going to call Cee Cee to help me top up my credit. She is the one true friend I can rely on.’
So I rolled my eyes.
‘I am running so late. I thought we had plenty of time. I can’t believe I didn’t re-set the time when I arrived in Lyon. I’ll just jump in the shower and then we can go.’
So I waited.

Train Station, Lyon. October 2006
‘The train is too crowded. The next one will be too late to make the wedding. It isn’t worth going there just for the reception. Oh well I tried. It’s her fault for not sorting out things properly for the wedding.’
So I kept quiet.

Resturant, Lyon. October 2006
‘Who is calling you? Is it him?’
So I showed her that it was.
‘He is being a real asshole. I’m so done with him.’
So I frowned, knowing full well that she wasn’t.
‘Do me a favour and delete his number so I won’t be tempted to ask you for it.’
So I deleted it because I knew she didn’t want me calling him.

Hotel, Lyon. October 2006
‘I can’t find my money. I can't understand where it could have gone’
So I showed her my purse only contained plastic money.
‘Let me tell you something. It's not nice to hear you go on about stuff you've bought when I don't have money.’
So I stared at her in disbelief and then walked out to cure my blues with more retail therapy.

In the car, London. January 2007
Maizah: Shubby Doo, do you know that even though he refuses to date her publicly, she still cooks for him every week, packs it in plastic and carries the food to his house.
Shubby Doo: The whole thing is off but I’ve told her I want no part in the friendship she has with him.
Maizah: You know Hafizah has been bitching about you behind your back; that she can’t talk to you about him.
Shubby Doo: She is at his house now. She told me not to tell you. Sad thing is it is not us she is fooling but herself. She will be her own undoing.
Maizah: You know we fought about you. I told her that she was out of order about the things she was saying.
Shubby Doo: I’m not surprised at her at all. Please o!...What has she been saying?
Maizah: Things like you finished her cash in Lyon.
Shubby Doo: Hahaha…abeg what cash?!!! I'm always picking up the tab. I simply stood my ground about the hotel. She has been bitching about you too. Apparently, you have an attitude problem because you argue with her anyhow and don’t give her the respect she deserves as she is 2 years your senior. I was like haba...relax!!! I mean I know we all went to school together but you guys are family friends... despite all her nonsense nobody has Hafizah's back like you do Maizah.
Maizah: I guess Macbeth's witches were right; ‘...fair is foul and foul is fair...’

So we laughed.

inglorious basterds

2009-03-23T10:23:00.036Z

This is the story of my encounter with the ‘Inglorious Basterds’… no I haven’t spelt it incorrectly but should I choose later to follow the original mantra forged by Enzo Castellari, I will change the title of this post to ‘quel maledetto treno blindato’. For now I have simply chosen to phrase it as Quentin Tarantino has =)

Anyway... as I was saying... I’ve always done my best to avoid ‘quel maledetto treno blindato’ but as I surfed the internet, trying to figure out the hoops I needed to jump through to get a new naija passport, I realised that I needed to ride ‘that damned armoured train’ to get it...

Mind you, McAfee warned me sha... it warned me well well that the site was not recommended for my computer... ‘harmful’ it said... McAfee even posted a big red cross on the pop up screen as it begged me not to proceed onwards towards ‘the voyage of damned’.

But I needed a new naija passport... so I decided to scoff out loud as I thought to myself ‘these oyinbos don come again… norring do me jare’

I mean I’m very used to hearing such aspersions against Nigeria… but this was aimed against an official system operating in the UK… it felt at least over exaggerated if not untrue...

Suddenly McAfee’s advice felt similar to that of the Foreign and Commonwealths Office’s (FCO’s) current travel advice on my beloved country in sub-saharan Africa ‘…we advise against all travel to the Niger Delta States of Bayelsa, Delta and Rivers (including Port Harcourt)’.

Hahahaha... shebi Baroque still dey Port Harcourt kampe... shebi all dis time dem neva kidnap am for ransom... so wetin be dis one again?

So as I am sat there at my computer, I basically start to ponder on the variety of infractions working against the reputation of my beloved naija... I also started to try to figure out wherein lay the real threat.

I reasoned that as an official nigerian website in foreign territory, it would be well fortified and definitely trustworthy… I mean why would the webpage for the Nigerian High Commission in London use the same stratagem that allowed the Greeks to finally enter the city of Troy during the Trojan War against me?… I was one of its own… I wasn’t fighting against them…

On the flip side, I also reasoned that McAfee had never been wrong… but what choice did I have? I needed a new passport as I planned to be in Lagos for Easter…

So I clicked to proceed and entered the website… soon after which, I quickly recognised the ‘bastardi senza gloria’…

They were the ones that used computer code with military precision to try and target my precious hardware… they were the ones that arrived with malware hidden inside NOT ONE BUT FOUR Trojan Horses that were hurled at the gates of my firewall as soon as I opened the webpage.

Please o!... help me beg... why?!

Why would the NHC want to have unauthorized access to my machine to save their files? Why would the NHC want to control my computer or view my screen?

While I sat there stunned in utter disbelief, McAfee wasted no time in disposing of all four Trojans.

So for now, my Troy still stands proud.

You’d think I’d have shut it down and left straight away right?

Wrong!

I figured that since I was there (and seemingly able to withstand the attacks) I might as well carry on with my reconnaissance mission and find out about payment too… I find what I'm looking for... but not utterly sure that I fully understand what I'm seeing, I click on the link for the application process and get re-directed to the Nigerian Immigration Service... fees on the NIS website are listed as 8,750 NGN with InterSwitch payments or 110 USD with Google payments

My head wanted to scatter as it reworked the nonsensical numbers again and again… in the end all I could think to myself was abeg which kain ojoro be dis again? 110 USD roughly equates to 16,245 NGN... and that's not even the black market rate o!!!

I wanted to laugh out loud this time... but all I could resort to doing was SMDH.

I know say I for no use correct English again to yab these wayo masters but damn it all that comes to mind is:

‘Inglorious Bastards’.

happiness is egg shaped

2009-03-16T00:50:00.010Z

I’m hiding behind angels
A little frightened
But already numb to the pain

I go into hospital today
For treatment
Pre-cancerous cells the letter said

I say
It is not cancer
It is not cancer
It is not cancer
‘…keep your kiss of death
'Cause I choose glory, yeah.’

I called my friend yesterday to talk it through
Why?
Respice Finem
She allayed my fears
The Doctor tells me it s quite normal to be abnormal

My advice to you ladies is get smear tests done reguarly
Is it every 3 or 5 years they recommend?
I can't quite remember

I do know
That I am calm
That I am and have always been blessed
So I am still able to smile and laugh in the here and now
I cherish that

So like I said I’ll head out for treatment in a couple of hours... going there with the Good Shepherd =)

ciao

2009-03-04T15:33:00.033Z

There are so many different ways to say it so I will only cover a few below:

Goodbye - English
Slán - Irish
Hwyl fawr - Welsh
Au Revoir or à bientôt - French
Auf Wiedersehen - German
Adiós or hasta la vista - Spanish
Adieus - Portuguese
Ciao or arrivederci - Italian
Yasou or andio - Greek
Näkemiin - Finnish
Dag or Tot ziens - Dutch
Hejdå - Swedish
Farvel - Danish
Żegnaj - Polish
Poka or Пока - Russian
Shalom - Hebrew
Ma'a al Salama - Arabic
Sayonara - Japanese
Zai Jian or 再见- Chinese
Paalam - Filipino
Sampai Jumpa - Indonesian
Namaste - Hindi... funny because Namaste is also the same word for hello in Hindi :-)

So I got this text message on Sunday from my razz cousin... who I am really holding back from doing a post on because it will always be one done in anger... her own is just to try and con me out of money and for that reason I haven't seen her in years... not since she begged me to give her some serious cash (which I did); only for me to realise her plan was always to abscond back to Nigeria the very same day she got it from me... no wahala sha but my own is once bitten, twice shy... *sighs*...

Anyway I got her text and I started to laugh… so much so I couldn’t stop.

Farida: Hope u are good? Just checking on u. Call me! CHAO.

ROTFLMFAO… abeg which one be chao?… kai! I want to believe that it was a slip of the finger… simply a typo… but I have learnt otherwise with her… yarning with her for 5 minutes is pure hard work… she be village girl o! but dat one no concern am because she go just dey blow her own phonetics by fire and by force.

Please why do people just continue to bastardise a language in an effort to feel among?

SMDH

What the hell was wrong with just saying o da bo?!!!

black swan

2009-02-16T22:21:00.028Z

So I’m reading a book called The Black Swan; a novel written by Nassim Nicholas Taleb. Its premise is the big uncertainty that people never take account of… one that is never mitigated for… one that no contingency is set aside to take care of… simply because living in a box prevents us from thinking outside of it. As a result, society has conditioned us to very rarely factor in any uncertainty associated with black swans into any of our evaluations.

People used to think that all swans were white… it was what was once known to be true so during that time one would have been ridiculed beyond humiliation for even daring to think otherwise… that is… until a black swan was sighted.

An unassailable belief, eventually disproved has three attributes: firstly, it is rooted in the realm of regular expectations; secondly, there is an extreme impact associated with the realisation that the belief no longer holds true; and lastly, there is a need for a concocted explanation that fits. The third is necessary… why?... simply because people do not like the unknown… I guess it is comforting to think that everything can still fit neatly inside the box they choose to live in.

Like I said in the house of agbada daggers, this is my look inward through an enclosure of boundless space. This weblog is what I use to capture thoughts and memories as they occur since I don’t keep a diary. The good thing about this practice is I cannot hide behind retrospective distortion… I cannot overevaluate because my ability to rationalise to a final answer is limited.

Does it really matter that I am doing this without the full benefit of hindsight… I guess it is a condition of life that one suffers or benefits as a consequence of a series of unfolding events without never really being able to see the full picture. I hope that by writing down my unrevised perceptions that contain no illusions of understanding, I may study these events later… to be better prepared perhaps... is that even possible?!... not absolutely.

As this is a diary of sorts, I should have started this entry with how I was feeling today…physically, I am fine… well apart from my nose… you see yesterday I decided to be lazy (by not walking over to the passenger side of my car to get my shopping) which resulted in me smashing my nose against the side frame of the car as I turned to remove the shopping bags that I had reached over to get. I swear to God I thought I heard a crack. Now how is that for unplanned impact?... lol… I laugh now but it still hurts like mad... I can breathe ok so I didn’t rush to A&E.

So apart from that I am doing okay (the ton of assignments I have to do for the various projects I am working on don’t count).

So now I sit in bed and type this to the still of the night. I am one that has always cherished the peace within. Yet for the past four weeks I have lain awake listening to the searching hum of your song. Why? To you I am a black swan: ‘the incomprehensible’ despite the fact that I try and stay as what you know.

How I wish I could make you understand that Flying Snow is a just that part of me that dares to dream the serendipitous dreams of the black swan. Will you not dream with me? I know you are scared but try and understand that people in glass houses should not throw stones... our joint failing is that ‘we do not learn that we do not learn’.

I love you but I do not understand this need of yours for corroboration… as you look for strength in confirming bias based on loose concoctions; I see vulnerability. I know why you are desperate for others to see a false danger by disconfirming my establish truth… but how can that work? you were the one that taught me that my world is not flat, but round. Truth is truth.

These past few weeks, before I laid my head to sleep, I have looked to the faith in myself and prayed, just like you taught me. I still see a world of infinite possibilities. Let me tell you of one of other marvels the Good Shepherd showed me: it was you. I saw you smiling, arms outstretched and full with your parcels; gifts of love, ever selfless.

Your love is like nothing else: giving, insightful but it can also be lawless, crushing and unremorseful.

You are afraid,
I am afraid.

Mãe, I keep trying but you have to meet me halfway…

sex, lies &...3. chaos

2009-01-27T11:57:00.109Z

This is a hilarious... while I 100% support Baba Suwe's beloved's mantra of ‘you gats to give, to receive’... I can't stop laughing at his response.

When I get up off the floor and the tears subside I might try and decode what Baba Suwe says here for the non yorubas... although most of the rest of this clip is sub-titled, the classic bits of his rant are not... which is great shame. Like I said I might try but as doing so will most likely cause me to collapse in a fit of laughter again, I can make no promises =)

What I will say is one has to respect him for how he sticks to his guns with respect to what he regards as a gross act of foreplay... I doubled over as he kept repeating similar words to those sang by Meatloaf... ‘I can do anything for love but I won't do that’... but his sentiments are an antonym to those of the song... LOL.

What Baba Suwe's girl wanted: Head.

Resulting chaos: Baba Suwe started ranting and raving; basically, saying ‘hell no’.... in the end there was no sex that night as both of them tried to make their respective points on the matter.

Moral: There is a line that one should never be forced to cross to please another.

Baba Suwe, let katakata burst jo... norring do you jare... I support your theory o! (not this particular one sha)... but I do support the idea behind it… one should never agree to do something, sexually, that makes one uncomfortable for another.

Speaking of chaos... I will take this opportunity to do ‘2 truths and 1 lie’... I was tagged by Doug. No, I will not be tagging any others or pasting the rules here... yes, I do know that it may be unwise to forego the rules or break the chain... & yes, I also understand that by purposely doing so, I may spurn the universe's wrath. Will it dash me a hard slap of ‘the butterfly effect’ for my disobedience?….who knows… but what I do know is that, for this, I am choosing not to give into any notion based on an unrealistic sensitive dependence. So I post this in the hope that the flapping wings of that butterfly that has just taken flight, halfway across the world, will not result in a tornado in my life; as these scenarios can themselves, already, be deemed as salacious or perhaps even scandalous. Thankfully, I can say they have been rarity in my life.

Case 1.
What a girl wanted: To suprise her boyfriend... so I once decided to turn up at his house, using the set of keys he had cut for me. I just wanted to see him as we had been going through another rough patch... basically, his complaint was we didn't see each other often enough. As I snuck out of my parents place and disappeared off their radar, I couldn't help smiling to myself... the thought never crossed my mind that he would be anything other than happy to see me.

Resulting chaos: I caught him in bed with another woman... I stayed there, silent, for what seemed like an age as my mind screamed ‘not again, not again’. When, I woke them up, he stupidly tried to convince me that it wasn’t what I was thinking… then the madness ensued.

Moral: Stop flogging a dead horse because a leopard can't change its spots... (& no the moral of the story for the guys isn't 'do not cut keys to your place for your girlfriend').

Case 2.
What a girl wanted: To get her groove on… so I drank a glass of double Remy Martin & Coke when I was out with a guy I was seeing… then I started sipping on a second glass but left it, unfinished, when it was time to leave the bar. This I did as I was coming to the end of the course of prescribed amphetamines which I had completely forgotten I had taken earlier that morning.

Resulting chaos: I passed out and woke up with the hangover from hell, in a hotel room. I was completely starkers; sporting only the vaguest flashbacks (but no real memory) of the night before.

Moral: Don’t EVER drink while taking drugs... prescribed or otherwise.

Case 3.
What a girl wanted: Love… even the tainted kind... so I let a married man slip his hand inside my bra as my friend drove. When we got to his place to drop him off, I wasted no time in jumping out of the car after he offered to take me home as I lived nearby. I followed him inside, upstairs and into the bedroom to get his car keys.

Resulting chaos: I had an affair with a married man and ended up becoming a home wrecker; he left her for me... only to break my heart later.

Moral: What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder (Mark 10:9).

Which is my lie?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*UPDATED on 07/02/2009*... specifically to hold off the two hell hounds at my heels (i.e. my dearest Afrobabe and the lovely Avartsy)… the answer is now below in inviso text:

Answer: Case 3 is the lie (truth is I told 2 truths followed by one lie… so I am not really a rule breaker afterall ;-P)

I never had any sort of an affair with Serb. I’ve never seen him since that night we dropped him off. I did hear that at the time he was trying to ‘cop a feel’, his loving wife had left for London to give birth to his 2nd child... *shakes head & sighs*... may that never be my portion.

I hope and pray that the only married man that I will ever follow into the bedroom will be mine. AMEN.

the usual suspects

2009-01-09T21:35:00.077Z

I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas. Wishing you all a happy and blessed start to the New Year.

I got back from Lagos on Wednesday. I’ve swapped the heat only to find that being re-immersed in the cold is more unbearable. C'est la vie I guess.

I had a fab holiday…

OMG, before I forget let me just say that while in Lagos, I watched the Nigerian films ‘Jenifa’ and ‘Jenifa 2’... suliat kan, aiyetoro kan… LMAO... filmed in Yoruba but with English subtitles I think part 1 is a must see for all... absolutely hilarious!!!

OK... back to the jist of this post... i.e. what I got up to... Smaragd, just to let you know that I rocked a little at places like Caliente, Penthouse, Insomnia and Auto Lounge… what else did I do?… I went to Federal Palace… I visited Shoprite for the very 1st time (more for necessity than curiosity)… I went to 2 weddings, one kiddie party, and attended our New Year’s Day family event… funny sha this is the first time in years I purposely didn't take my camera out with me. So I've decided to commit, the various snapshots of my memories hanging out with the usual suspects here. Some, you know… like Rosetta, Reverie, Spartan, Wole Ray and Jay but others you don't… like Niata, Ababa and Kujan plus I met new people like IJ, Ash and Baer.

I just can't believe we're going to walk into certain death
I hope that Jeremy Hoyland, the British jet skier that went missing off the coast of Bali, two months ago is found safe and sound soon. It just brings home how dangerous our antics could have been. Last Sunday, by the time Reverie turned up to pick me up, we'd already missed the boat. I had just about given up the ghost on going to the beach but Reverie decided otherwise.

Reverie: I was going to go on the Jet Ski by myself but you're coming with me. You know we are going to fall in don't you
Shubby Doo: Yes… crap… Ok, let's go

Luckily, we didn't fall into the water as we rode all the way from the ikoyi to ilashe… from behind I clung on to him... and for most of the time I had my eyes closed... so you see when we finally caught up with the boat that had left 20 minutes before us… I was more than just relieved.

Get yourself laid
I did.

I got thrown this job by some lawyer
The job was simple really… I just had to let her outshine me… as if. IJ is one of those girls I normally stay well clear off… she is the kind that name drops and thinks she is the most attractive girl in the room even with her nasty weave. I met her at a wedding that I went to with Niata. She purposely manoeuvred her bleached... whoops... I meant to say toned body to sit next to the guy I was chatting with and her dumb gob just spoilt the intelligent conversation we were having. 2 hours later at a BBQ, she saw me walking past and stopped me.
IJ: Hmmm… You’re the engineer aren’t you?
Shubby Doo: Yes… & you’re the lawyer

I walked away and when I came back to sit down she had miraculously remembered my name. I saw her smile fade when Reverie came to sit next to me. It completely disappeared when Spartan stopped dead in his tracks as he realised he wasn’t hallucinating, winked at me and then marched straight up to me to say hello.

Well I believe in God, and the only thing that scares me is Keyser Söze
The attraction Spartan and I still share scares me… our chemistry is still as ‘excited’... our Keyser Söze is still as ‘dangerous’... as it was the 1st day we met… so how exactly we managed to keep politely saying hello to each other without tearing each other's clothes off after a year with no real contact is a mystery. Whatever he is doing… whoever he is with… he stops and drops everything just for me…
Spartan: Are you ok?
Shubby Doo: I'm fine thank you

I know he doesn't get it but it is not for me anymore. How he always found a way to try and talk to me, hold my waist or stroke my arm in the shadows is beyond me… I was mostly indifferent to it... but the fact that it was always done out of sight of his babe did cause me some concern because I've always know him to be truthful. As far as I'm concerned we are just friends now… it’s an ego thing I think… basically, he cannot understand why I walked away from ‘us’ without blinking… but I’m sure he’ll deal with it soon enough.

After that my guess is that you will never hear from him again
If only. I met Ababa at the beach 3 years ago… his conversation skills have not matured in that time. Apparently Jay tells me that Ababa is ever so shy and quite sweet when he is sober but I guess that means I've only met him when he has had something to drink and his manners have gone to pot.
Ababa: I love your eyes
Shubby Doo: Thank you
Ababa: I wonder what they would look like at the moment of penetration
Shubby Doo: You'll never know. At 21, I couldn't tolerate such nonsense let alone at this age. Excuse me

Before I left he asked for my London number. I refused to reply. He went on facebook and wrote nonsense on my wall… my brother ATA says I should just limit profile his ass… I think I might just do that. After that my guess is that he’ll probably not hear from me again.

That's funny. He called me last night
He called and asked me to go outside and look at the moon… I did… and yes everybody has yabbed me already because apparently I should have pretended but then I wouldn't have seen what Ash was talking about... the bright star shouldering its crescent.

I met Ash at a club I went to with Niata. I liked him from the very start. We danced and talked and danced some more. He offered to take me home when Reverie disappeared... chasing women as usual...
Shubby Doo: Where is he? I can't see him... Ok I'm not going to panic for another 10 minutes... darn... I should have gone home with Niata
Ash: No you shouldn't. I'm glad you stayed

Anyway, the word is he carries around a lotta cash
IJ came to my rescue and took Baer away from me… he bored me shitless... and I got so sick and tired from rolling my eyes all night… it was that bad.
Baer: Can you imagine that guy told them to send me the bill for the extra stuff he ordered
Shubby Doo: I don’t understand. Why would he?
Baer: I organised the BBQ and paid for it and he had the audacity to send the bill for the extra stuff he ordered to me
Shubby Doo: Pele… that’s not right
Baer: People always do that to me. They know I have money and I guess that is what happens when you work like me… I mean I could do a 9 to 5 job but then I wouldn't have as much money and…

I don’t remember the rest… I’d switched off

In English, please?
Kujan is hilarious… as soon as he gets into London and sees oyinbo people he’s accent switches…even with Nigerians… he just can’t help blowing his phonetics… He took the seat I’d saved for Reverie at the Christmas table… yet I wasn’t disappointed with his company… we teased each senseless about our accents… I haven’t laughed so much during Christmas dinner like I did with Kujan… I’m hoping to catch up with him in London sometime this month.

A rumor's not a rumor that doesn't die
Tinuke: Aunty Shubby Doo I saw you and Uncle Reverie flirting
Shubby Doo: You?!!!… you have started with that active mind of yours again abi?
Tinuke: You were flirting
Shubby Doo: Maybe the intensity you saw was me having a go at him. He was supposed to take me somewhere and he didn't
Tinuke: Hmmm… maybe... I still think you were flirting!!!

On another occasion when it was time to leave and go home, Niata came back to tell me that I was, in fact, staying.
Niata: Your husband said I cannot take you. He says he'll drop you off.
Shubby Doo: Which husband?
Niata: Reverie
Shubby Doo: Hahaha… he came here cause I told him we were coming… we've not really hung out this last week that we've both been back in Lagos… I'll just double check with him but I'll probably stay. Thanks anyway

You kids ready?
That’s what I think of Jay’s girlfriend… a kid… she is totally insecure about my friendship with him… so much so that she stopped him from coming out with me on New Year's Eve despite the fact she couldn't accomodate him in her plans. I told him it was ok… he was so embarrassed. Apparently he warned her well... he felt that she had insulted me and inadvertently got him to insult our friendship. He called to take me out to Terra Culture 2 days later. We then ended up at Sky Bar (EKO Hotel) for dinner. She called every hour… after the 3rd time she called him back immediately to talk to me… apparently she thought it might have seemed rude that she hadn’t asked to say hello… silly girl... if she thinks I'm going to give up on my trusted confidant she has another thing coming.

Put a leash on that puppy
Before I left Lagos, Jay called me.
Jay: You need to talk to Reverie. I don't know what you two are playing at but you guys have something and you both don't want to deal with it
Shubby Doo: Ok I will
Jay: No you won't
Shubby Doo. You are right I won't
Jay: Shubby Doo
Shubby Doo: Swiftly changing the subject… guess who I spoke to last night?… Ash
Jay: And?
Shubby Doo: He was a bit ratty… his car had broken down... it over heated... and he was complaining because he hadn’t eaten all day except for a chocolate bar… I told him he sounded irritable so I was going to leave him be... to at least get something to eat… plus I had to go because they had just served up my pounded yam
Jay: You are wicked…
Shubby Doo: I know... hahaha... can you imagine that the poor guy couldn't stop himself from asking if it was powdered pounded yam... I gleefully told him it was the real kind… POUNDED YAM!
Jay: Hahaha

The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist. And like that... he is gone.
I got to see my Aunty Grace. She is undergoing the treatment she needs… some days are better than others but she is a pillar of strength… she is doing much better than I’d hoped…

For those of you that helped to pray with me when I posted amazing grace... Thank you again for your support and kind words... the devil is a liar... she is well in Jesus' name.

Good Shepherd she is in your hands. Continue to heal her. Please

yahoozee

2008-12-15T15:38:00.033Z

Last Christmas, I was rocking in places like Bacchus & 6 degrees North, Volar, No 10, Caliente etc… mainly to the tune of Olu Maintain’s Yahoozee but little did I think that dem yahoozee people wey dey UK fit do me 419 this Christmas!

Today I panicked when I checked my account and saw and an unknown debit… with work paying my December salary in at the end of this week on Friday, and me leaving on the country on Thursday, I started thinking I for just come back from Lagos see say dey don clear my account finish…

I don’t know why God told me to check my account today…at first, I was like why is the ID for that transaction written weirdly as ‘WWW.TOTALLYSHOES.C, O.UK’?… then a small light bulb came on and I was like I don't know them so why have they taken money from my account?… I clicked to investigate further and then I was like hell no…uh uh… I didn’t buy anything last week on the 11th.

So I called the bank and found out that on Thursday, after I had endured my 2nd pointless meeting of the day at work (I guess I should back track and correct that because the 1st meeting was quite necessary and it proved useful)… @ 13:58, my bank card was used to buy something off ‘http://www.totallyshoes.co.uk’... I assumed this to be the real website address sha because the one above didn’t make sense…

Now with only 3 days before I was to leave for naija… I had to cancel my bank card… I checked all the pending transactions on it and confirmed the remaining were mine… they were thank goodness… I confirmed that the bank could report it as fraud to the police… I then started to look for my oga to say I’d be finishing work early today to enable me to get to the bank before it closed to make a bank declaration…

I’d been spitting mad since I looked at my account… I’m normally so cautious… who likes being ‘had’?… not me.… I remember laughing long and hard at an oyinbo guy at work about three years ago who got hustled… for lack of common sense IMO… he and his partner accepted £5000 from a nigerian asking them to transfer about £50,000 into a nigerian's account for the promise of £100,000… na so money just dey rain from the sky?!… I wasn't surprised to hear that in the end they got nothing back in return… the cheque bounced… but after loosing £45,000 the police started investigating them for money laundering activities… me, I don't want wahala so I promptly report all suspect e-mails as phishing scams.

To protect myself from opportunists, I take precautions such as shredding all my card receipts… I never send my banking details in e-mails... I only do internet banking from work because of the nature of the secure work we do… same goes for internet shopping… I've signed up for secure online card verification systems with all but one of my cards and that is only because they are yet to offer it. I rarely do internet shopping with that bank card but I did err two weeks ago and then I ended up cancelling the order because the company was useless…

So upon all my precautions I sat at my desk completely miffed… the recurring question in my head was... of all the cards to all my accounts…why e be de account dat my salary dey enter dem go put hand enter, comot carry go?… I know people can beat the system but I felt so violated… I kept thinking thunda fire their yansh 1 millions times over…

I also felt bloody insulted… I would never shop on that site… not my style… not at all… I get taste better pass dat o but how I fit use dat theory as proof for bank?… I know say I no fit.

Then I started thinking maybe they’d be able to track them down with the delivery address used for the purchase…yes, perhaps… and I hope they lock them up and throw away the key when they find them… I just wanted my money back.

As I got to the end of this post I started thinking of all the things I was yet to get for myself and others for my trip to Lagos… I’d made a list and my eye caught a glimpse of one of the things I had gotten already… yoghurt for the kids… this time a big 1000 watt light bulb came on in my head with a very loud ‘ping’… I remembered an internet transaction I’d made on 11th December @ 13:51 for yoghurt mix… no no no no… but it was with a company called fraser simpson… they sent me an e-mail saying the transaction would show as ‘Totally Commerce Ltd’ not ‘WWW.TOTALLYSHOES.C, O.UK’… WTF?!!!

I’m going to call fraser simpson and check but the amount is the same and the time stamps kinda match so I guess it was probably me afterall… lol…

If it is I’ll call the bank back and explain… to think that all that wahala was for nothing… & I'll still have to wait for a new bank card no matter what, which won't arrive before I leave for Lagos… *shakes head*… I did all that for nothing…

Where is Afrobabe?… Afro… Afro… you sure say no be you wan do me juju like this because I no dey carry you go naija with me for Christmas?!!!

winter wonderland

2008-12-10T00:14:00.035Z

On sunday, I woke up shivering from the cold so I got out of bed to turn the central heating on but I found that the breath of winter still lingered outside my window. I looked down below and realised that this time it had brought with it a healthy dusting of icing. Tree branches, previously naked were now covered with a fluffy blanket of snow. The small lanes of the quarry looked like Eskimo way. In that instant my irritation, caused by the incessant shrill of the wind the night before, disappeared. Instead, I stood there marvelling at the transformation; there was certainly nothing bleak about this mid-winter morning because my small world now glistened outside the transparent globe. Then I felt that familiar childhood thrill, whistle through me; to run and play outside, in this bright and beautiful winter wonderland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another reason this post is titled ‘winter wonderland’ is because I’ve been meaning to take part in Geisha's ‘12 days of Christmas’ production.

On Sunday, again, she asked if I was still interested so I downloaded some recording software, off the internet... the free one sha… with track times limited to 1 minute… a fair compromise, I thought... since I didn't want anybody to have to endure my tuneless rendition for any significant length of time... lol... Anyway, I decided to record a song that captured the joviality in my spirit that morning.

So… for the minute few wanting a direct link to my contribution, 5th day of Christmas, click here.

p.s
Remember that ’tis the season of love and goodwill… so please o!... easy on the yabs =)

problem solving

2008-12-01T10:04:00.071Z

Problem solving is considered one of the most complex of all intellectual functions. It is seen as a higher-order cognitive process that requires modulation and control.

So I have a small problem at the moment… my root cause analysis of the situation concluded that I over-indulged during my birthday trip… yay. However, if left unchecked, I will look like a beached whale in my bikini this Christmas… boo… besides Sod's Law dictates dat na facebook dem go use to expose me…

So I’m on a diet… The Food Doctor’s Diet… I’ve lost 3 kg in 3 weeks. Not bad but I’m not quite where I want to be yet. The process involves following some simple rules:

No sugar – I miss cakes
No caffeine – I miss drinking tea & coffee… especially at this time of the year… I need it to help combat the cold… mehnn I couldn’t feel my feet last night… seriously, it was like they were encased in ice despite the fact that they were supposedly insulated within a pair of thick socks, a 15 tog duvet and a pretty solid bedspread… I was that cold!
Eat fat to loose fat – I no sabi dat logic sha but wetin concern me… if it works I'm down!
Eat 5 times a day – yes o…5 times!… 3 main meals (each two palm/hand size portions) and 2 snacks (each just a palm/hand size portion)…
No smoking – I don't anyhow
No stress – Wish someone would tell my boss that
No simple carbs - I've waved bye bye to white bread, white rice and pasta
No starchy carbohydrates for dinner (I can only have that for breakfast and lunch) – this means that I cannot look forward to dishes like jollof rice in the evenings :-(
Increase intake of complex carbohydrates – but I broke my Jack La Lanne juicer as I was cleaning it – I had to stop and ask myself… ‘Shubby Doo how does one break the rotating spring casing while trying to re-assemble it?’… how I did it I don’t know… what I do know is if I was to use it now I’d electrocute myself… I’m bummed out by it because it was the only way to make sure that I got my daily intake of fruit and veg…it’s now a struggle because as a child I was never any good at eating my greens… to be honest I wasn't good at eating full stop…hence the childhood name bone-ga-fish…
Exercise at least 3 times a week for 20 minutes minimum – so I’m doing my pilates workout (that includes cardio!) every evening. The definition is slowly coming back to my body; I’m toning up and my muscles are leaner ;-)
Pareto Principle – if I'm good 80% of the time, the other 20% doesn't matter!

I’ve applied a simple formula to a small problem (admittedly to do with my vanity) but I’m very sure that I’ll end up with the right result.

These last few weeks I’ve been overwhelmed by the number of bigger problems out there in the world.

Two weeks ago - I sat, flabbergasted, as I watched the documentary on the practice in Akwa Ibom, Nigeria… a classic case of how a perspective on a phenomenon has created one… I mean how the fuck does a community continue its barbaric practice of branding its children as child witches and then torture and kill them?!… in this day and age?! haba…

Last week - I was utterly confused as to why those retards entered Mumbai, India… solely for the purpose of reeking havoc at the taj mahal hotel, oberoi trident hotel, caman hotel, nariman place and café leopoid… I keep checking the news and still opacity… so I’m asking WTF for?!

Over the w/e - I was monitoring the religious/ ethnic violent riots in Jos, Nigeria… a result of the contested elections… all the time knowing that the deaths were preventable and absolutely senseless!

Today is World AIDS Day – but I still cannot fathom why people choose to have unsafe sex…people should fucking double bag IMO!

Ever heard of the joke ‘why is a maths book so sad?… well it’s because it contains so many problems’… but isn't maths supposed to be ‘the’ universal language of the world?… correction…of the universe as we know it… one that needs no translation to be completely understood… Especially in relation to the examples given above; I mean why can’t the foundations of mathematics be used to teach people that the axioms that they hold true are massively flawed. Simply because each is a starting point from which nothing else logically follows… *sighs*

Generally, I live my life holding steadfast to a lesson I learnt in church many years ago… ‘if you’re not part of the solution you are part of the problem’… but like Shakespeare pointed out in Hamlet… ‘ay, there's the rub’… what is the solution?… I remember this textbook I had in university… Stroud's Engineering Mathematics… we called it our engineering bible just because it had a detailed worked solution to everything.

Good Shepherd, why can’t there be a finite answer for each and every one of the world’s problems?…only one right non-elusive answer no matter the method of derivation.

snow diaries

2008-11-10T03:28:00.034Z

Friday 7th November
-My friend, The Doctor, and I flew out of London, Heathrow, at 8:50am - excited
-Arrived at the hotel, in Nevada, by 6:30pm - tired

Saturday 8th November
-Woken up at midnight by my cousin, Tweet, as she arrives at the hotel - dazed
-Hit a club by 1:30am - electric
-Back to bed by 4:30am - shattered
-Flew over the snow capped mountains of Colorado at 8:30am - breathtaking
-At 9:30am I'm in Arizona & stood on the rim of the Grand Canyon - magnificent
-Went horse riding on a ranch at 11:15am - hilarious
-Experienced a bumpy plane ride back to Nevada at 1:30pm - prayed
-Impulsively jumped on a rollercoaster ride at 3:45pm - petrified

Sunday 9th November
-Went skydiving at 12:00pm - awesome
-Went shopping for gifts for family at 3:00pm - stressful
-Headed out for my birthday dinner at 8:00pm - emotional
-Ran for a taxi in 4 inch heels so as not to miss the show at 9:30pm - madness
-Hit a club by 11:30pm - grooving

Monday 10th November
-Thanking God because it is my birthday - smiling

p.s
I just found out that Rayo has the same birthday as me. Do drop by hers and wish her a happy belated birthday too :-)

the audacity of hope

2008-11-05T06:05:00.010Z

‘...While we breathe, we hope.
And where are met with cynicism and doubt and those who tell us that we can’t,
We will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of the people,
Yes we can.’

Barack Obama...
Is the president elect...
Will be the 44th US President...

There has never been anything false about hope.

wakeful dreamer

2008-10-30T00:07:00.009Z

Shubby Doo: What streak of madness are you talking about?... because of Aerosmith?... o abeg leave me jare ... ahhhhh... ok fine... you really want to know what I want for my birthday?

‘I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Where every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

Don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
Cause I'd miss you babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing

Lying close to you feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes
And thank God we're together
I just want to stay with you in this moment forever
Forever and ever’

Shubby Doo: See... it's not lunacy… just the simple wish of a wakeful dreamer.

amazing grace

2008-10-16T21:35:00.061+01:00

She is an amazing gift of grace… so it cannot splinter her hopes or silence her courage. She holds within her love's unfathomable ability… so it will not cripple her into loving (even a wretch) conditionally. She is embraced in godly fellowship… so it shall not smother her spirit or corrode her faith.

Good Shepherd be with her as she tries to overcome the snares of this danger because 'tis only your grace, her fears, relieve.

So these were my thoughts and prayers as I spoke to my brother when he called today. Somehow I also kept hearing the words of the The Script… so I began ‘looking for those heroes in the sky’… that ‘teach us how to fly’… in order to beg them to reach down with their convalescent hands and mend her wings with just a touch.

Good Shepherd let your words been her constant lullaby despite the fact that at the moment ‘together we cry…’

So what is this all about?

My brother told me that Aunty Grace was in hospital, recovering from an operation. Confused, I asked why. It was to remove a lump in her chest.

Ali: It’s cancer.

I stayed silent… trying to choke back the tears as my heart broke uneven… but they started to spill gently down… pausing for a moment to caress my cheek… before hitting the ground.

l'heure bleue

2008-10-07T21:02:00.056+01:00

I remember those summers when I used to drive on twisting country lanes, at speed, listening to Nina Simone. I also remember that on a particular stretch of road; which was about 10 minutes from work, I would lean over and select one of my favourite tracks on her album: ‘Young, Gifted and Black’. No surprise why!!! Doing so somehow helped me to start my day at work in the right frame of mind. The song lyrics start like this:

‘To be young, gifted and black,
Oh what a lovely precious dream
To be young, gifted and black,
Open your heart to what I mean

In the whole world you know
There are billion boys and girls
Who are young, gifted and black,
And that's a fact!’

I miss those summers.

As they faded into autumn and then became warming winter memories, I had to learn to drive at dusk. Dusk was when the trailing edge (or the leading edge depending how you look at it!) of the sun sat below the horizon. At dusk I drove home, surrounded in an ambient quality of light that held me in safe hands despite the fact that it was not accompanied by the sun.

Saying that, I struggled to drive well in the twilight… maybe it was because that was the time immediately before or after night time. I found that my vision became severely hampered on the road and I ended up straining my eyes to see... my discomfort caused the beauty of the sunlight, scattered in the upper atmosphere, illuminating the lower atmosphere to elude me.

To be honest I actually hated driving in the twilight. Maybe it was also because I felt I had to be especially vigilant during those hours as I attempted to navigate home on those narrow country lanes. To me, the twilight hid numerous dangers; cloaking them in shadows. I guess it didn't help that I felt that I should still have been cuddled up in bed but instead I was on the road... and when that particular thought came to mind, it just used to make me feel blue… maybe that is why it is also called ‘l’heure bleue’. Funnily enough, as I drove home during the summer months it was at twilight that the smell of the flowers often seemed to be at their strongest… the many scents of erica ciliaris wafted into my car and started dancing to Nina Simone in my nostrils... it was a sensation that always caused my lips to curl up into the briefest of smiles.

It might surprise you to know that I could drive at night without fear or apprehension. I had to do so many times when work forced me to do really long hours; it was because we were commissioning a plant during those summer months. Back then, normally, I'd get home for about 9pm. Again it was Nina Simone’s album I chose to listen to when I got into the car but at night time I chose ‘Sinner Man’ to keep me company on the tasking journey home. As I listened to that track, I felt fine with only the lights from the full beam to guide me on my way and shield me from the night as I attacked each bend.

Right now I just plain miss the summer.

I woke up at 6:30am today. I raised the blinds to find that it was still dark outside... I couldn't believe that I was looking out into the dusk. In a couple of weeks I will wake up and stare into the twilight. It's unbelievable because just two weeks ago it was as bright as day at this same time in the morning.

The clocks here, in England, will go back one hour on the last Sunday of October. I'm happy at the extra hour in bed but I am not happy that I have no choice but to embrace GMT as autumn morphs into winter. Darkness is here to stay… for a while…

Another type of darkness is looking for me. I opened my e-mail on the last Sunday of September, just over a week ago, and I had one e-mail in my inbox.

It was from Sinnerman. He had sent it at 9:00pm. It read:

Sinnerman: Shubby Doo, where are u? I have made attempts to reach u severally. Are u in england or in nig? I need to have ur no where ever u are?

I smiled when I read it as I remembered his smile... his lips... I remembered the way he chuckled deep in his throat.

Then I re-read it but this time I shook my head as I remembered how some of his words and many of actions were really laden in deceit despite the fact that he’d iced them with pure sweetness. I remembered the games he used to want to play; the majority of which I was fortunate to simply side step, unscathed.

I read it for the third and final time. Then I switched off my computer. I didn't have energy for him.

I am a human being... yes o! The amazing Flying Snow is just a mere mortal... I simply emit radiant energy; hoping it will only be used for the benefit of those I love… for family... for friends... or perhaps even for those I don't know that genuinely need my help... I can only exist in the 7th level of the twilight... the one we all live in.

He is like a powerful zero level dark magician or vampire who is able to absorb energy from those around him and then wield it as his own power… he gives nothing... and in a similar fashion to a parasite he steals off others to feed… he can move through all the twilight levels so he hides there.

For my protection, I've learnt to follow the advice that Sergey Lukyanenko’s Night Watch agents give to all their gifted but uninitiated novices… ‘stay out of the twilight’.

Darkness is coming… it will soon be here… it may come looking for me… but the shadows of the gloom will have to work hard to engulf me.

Simply because I won’t make it easy to find me.

mãe

2008-10-05T00:00:00.035+01:00

Thinking of what to write as a tribute to you I realised that I had no idea what I could say that would express my love for you.

I wanted to write something that told you of how much I have valued your contribution to my life but nothing I thought of seemed fitting enough because words are insufficient to describe all that you have done for me.

I have watched you suffer through so much.
I have watched you sacrifice so much.
You did all this not because you had to but because you chose to for the sake of your children.
As I read Ephesians 6:10-20, I prayed that your spirit is forever fortified with the whole Armour of God.

I want you to know that your children are okay because of you.
I want you to know that I am okay because of you.
I pray that you are now able to do as it says in the bible when you turn to 1 Peter 5:7.
It says that you should ‘cast all your anxiety on him because He cares for you.’

You are the mother that taught me early that great people sometimes fail but become great by acknowledging and learning from their failures. Most importantly I learnt from you that I should never let my failures get to me because I could remedy mistakes and shortcomings if I faced them head on with courage and compassion.

I grew up hearing directly from you about rights and wrongs. Like many daughters I grew up first seeking your approval, then trying to prove my independence. Now I am a little older, I realise the immense strength of character and humility you hold within you to put up with so much.

I can say whole heartedly that I am proud to be your daughter.
I can say I am truly blessed to be your child.

Today is your birthday.
Today I am jubilant with joy as I celebrate.
Today I sing the words of Psalm 95 as I give thanks to God for you.

‘O come, let us sing unto the LORD: let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation.
Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms.
For the LORD is a great God, and a great King above all gods.
In his hand are the deep places of the earth: the strength of the hills is His also.
The sea is His, and He made it: and His hands formed the dry land.
O come, let us worship and bow down: let us kneel before the LORD our maker.’

When God thought of you as a Mother, it was a thought so rich, so deep, so divine and so full of soul; one that caused your beauty and power to be concieved.

As our mother you have shed our tears and feared our fears.
As our mother you have cared for our cares and laughed our laughs.
As our mother you have lived our joys and shared in all our hopes and dreams.

All that I am,
All that I hope to be,
I owe to you.

‘Happy 60th Birthday Mummy’.

p.s
Special thanks to Jaycee and Naapali. Albeit for different reasons... Hugs :-)

serendipity

2008-10-03T10:32:00.024+01:00

I am grateful for what I am. For what I have. Saying that, I need to get a new job.

For me it is about growth. I have been here too long. I choose to experience something different. It is time. However, I am just a little scared of leaving this one now. I guess with me it has to do with the fear of the unknown; which I'm not always good at facing... it has been known to cripple me... it is my pejorative... arghhhhh!

Don't get me wrong. Most of the time I do believe in me but at the moment I’m thinking ‘stay a while longer’. .. *Sigh*... Some of my rationale has to do with the uncertainty of the credit crunch... but part of me is like ‘who cares get a job back in Lagos’.

So in an effort to motivate myself, I am going to motivate others first... but in a completely different sector... simply bcos I can’t have you guys taking all the good jobs in engineering before I get back to Nigeria... lol

I'm talking... Finance

So moneymen (and women) in Nigeria, e-mail or send Minerva your CV:
info@minervarecruitment.com

or call:
+234 (0) 1 461 7265

The goddess of commerce has positions available in:
Investment banking
Capital markets
Retail and Risk management
Analysts
Research in fixed income and equity

For some, I hope serendipity has found you on your visit to this page.

p.s
Do check out Naapali's comment to this post on the 3 princes of serendip.

miss independence

2008-10-01T12:50:00.017+01:00

Arise, O compatriots
Nigeria's call obey
To serve our Fatherland
With love and strength and faith
The labour of our heroes past
Shall never be in vain
To serve with heart and might
One nation bound in freedom
Peace and unity.

I haven't sang that in so very long.

I remember once as a child we had to go to a ceremony. My dad told my mother that all his children must know the words to the national anthem off by heart.

I must have been a bit older than 5 years old.

Even though I am not there anymore,
I still know those words now,
Simply because they are etched in my heart.

To your 48 years
I hear that you've been taking care of people since at least 9000 BC
To the fact that you look after about 148 million people now
Within your 36 states
Apparently you are the 8th most populous country
So when I think of all how long and how many you have nurtured
I am filled with pride.

You survived the Portuguese explorers
You survived the colonial rule of the British Empire
You survived the disequilibrium of military rule
You are silent even now as you cope with crippling corruption
Still yours is a land fueled with resources and rich in its traditions
But when I think of all the egocentricities you’ve borne
I am filled with sadness.

Apparently you are the 32nd largest country
They say your regional power cannot be ignored
That you are one of the Next Eleven
A country with an economy with great potential
So what, that China may get there before us?
Our progress is not a race but we will get there
‘Slow and steady’ my mother used to say
I hope we can help you realise your potential
I hope that in doing so we will realise ours
So when I think of what we could achieve in solidarity
I am filled with hope.

Happy Independence Day

God willing, I shall see my beloved Nigeria at Christmas.

loosing fate in faith

2008-09-24T17:12:00.057+01:00

As a child I went to a boarding school. My school was in a small village… it was next to a church (and its graveyard)… both were surrounded by woodlands. This meant my school was isolated from all... especially boys which was just the way my father liked it.

I remember one Saturday night, we watched a film called ‘It’ ... for those who don't know, ‘It’ is a horror film about a sadistic balloon wielding clown... an adaptation of Stephen King's book of the same name. Anyway... the next day, I went with Aoife to collect my hymn book for church from a deserted school building… let me just say that I knew of many stories that seemed to suggest that all our buildings were supposedly haunted which is why I didn't go alone.

As I took my hymn book from the cubbyhole, I saw a red balloon fall from nowhere and drift to the ground… Aoife and I looked at each other… to us it was a warning that signalled the arrival of Pennywise… ‘It’… but neither of us were part of the Losers’ Club so there was no fighting ‘It’… the thought of the clown getting ready to marinate me as meat freaked me out so much so that I left my friend for dust and I ran for my life…

I don’t know how much adrenalin kicked in but it must have been a lot because by the time I stopped to catch my breath, I couldn't see Aoife behind me… as I was trying to figure out if she had fallen foul of some atrocity, her voice somehow pierced through the deafening sound of my racing heartbeat… just like the Doppler Effect from an ambulance siren, the shift in her pitched scream was clearly evident as she approached and she ran past me; heading straight to church. At this point I started laughing.

Looking back now I think our reaction was a reflection of our childish fears interpreted in a physical form… or was it? A sign is still a sign… maybe it was God telling me not to watch such films. To this day, I will not re-watch that film or read the book.

My first introduction to impending messages of doom was the bible. I think it was the story of the shepherd... soon to be prophet... called Moses. He saw a burning bush that would not be consumed. As he stood watching, he was told by God to go to the Pharaoh and tell him to set the Israelites free. (This Pharaoh is not Rameses I or II btw because evidence of the exodus was found in Tutankhamun’s tomb and he pre-dates both Kings... plus Rameses II lived to a ripe old age).

Anyway... the Pharaoh... lets call him the Pharaoh of Oppression... the Pharaoh of Oppression’s faith did not lie in the God of Israel... he worshipped the gods of Egypt. He continuously chose to ignore God’s words and caused his people to suffer through 9 plagues and then he condemn all the first born males to their fate… death… this was the 10th plague.

Now prophecies in the bible are not all bad… there is Joseph's ability to interpret dreams... Pharaoh's dreams... that foretold that seven years of abundance would be followed by seven years of famine.

However; despite the fact that I am mostly familiar with biblical and/ or historic figures (e.g. Joan of Arc) receiving messages in the form of emanations from the divine… I also know a little of traditional mythologies of yoruba gods. Such as Orunmila… the deity of destiny and prophecy who carried Ifa (the wisdom of Olodumare) to Earth. I guess the embodiment of his knowledge and wisdom are now supposedly distilled through the Priests of Ifa… better known as babalawos (in its singular form babalawo means father of secrets).

Again I am sceptical of such people… I avoid them at all cost... do some have the gift?... or are some just modelling themselves on the trickster god, Ellegua (who is supposed to open the way for Orunmila's wisdom)?

I once lost £300 from my suitcase in Nigeria when I was staying with family… someone else had lost $1000 the week before… cameras etc... had been going missing for a while. The househelp were all interrogated and they all swore to God that they were not the culprit. Their quarters were searched but nothing was found. We couldn’t figure out how they were getting the stuff they stole out of the house so fast and by now everybody was generally pissed at the culprit's confidence to be so audacious.

So it was decided that they would all be sent to a babalawo… let me quickly just say that I was not a supporter of this course of action o!

Anyway a whole heap of things happened to them that day and when the househelp came back, they were all scared shitless. The house girl was identified as the thief and we managed to get back least 3/4 of everything that had gone missing… I got back all my money.

Would I support doing so again?... No. I try and stay well clear of such things. My faith is key.

The footnote on Smaragd's post 'just the way you are' reminded me of a time when I was in University... I was forewarned… no it was actually we…we were warned against moving into a flat.

My mother always told me that 'to be forewarned is to be forearmed'... so my fighting spirit kicked in when I heard this warning and in defiance I insisted we move in... I honestly didn't believe that anything bad would happen if we did... I reminded myself of that line in Terminator 2 … ‘there is no fate but what we make’... I had faith and I knew that this wasn't our fate.

I guess another reason I didn't give into my fears so readily was simply because house hunting was a royal pain in the arse… especially with 4 other Naija girls. When we found a nice 5 bedroom house Busola pulled out. So we had to start again because this time we only needed a 4 bedroom place... most of the good ones had already gone. It was also exam season so I was stressed to the hilt with revision… which meant it was double wahala trying to sort out viewings. We knew if we waited until exams were over we would end up living in a dive.

I will not pretend that I am not fussy… I have certain standards… so when we eventually found a place… I was happy. Midweek after we had viewed the flat I got a call from Bubbles.

Shubby Doo: How now? I’m sorry I haven’t called before but I’ve been revising. Anyway I checked and I can afford my share of the rent.
Bubbles: Me too but rent isn’t the issue… it’s Chixster.
Shubby Doo: I don’t understand… you say rent isn’t the issue so what is the problem?… shebi we were all there when she said she it was ok.
Bubbles: She said she felt something strange and sinister when we were there… her spirit is unsettled… basically she got some sort of premonition that something bad would happen to us if we moved in
Shubby Doo: You’re not serious?
Bubbles: I am o…

Bubbles was serious... because Chixster was serious… I was seriously not convinced... maybe because I have always chosen faith over fate whenever they differ but I couldn’t quite dismiss her gift which had revealed this unknown foreboding future… why?

1stly - Chixster was a strong Christian.

2ndly - I had heard that it was a bad thing to ignore her advice on such things… she was gifted like her mother… it was her mother’s gift that had prevented the death of Chixster’s father… as I recall the driver had died in his place.

I called and spoke to Chixster and tried to appease her fears… no joy… but I wasn’t willing to give up on the flat despite the fact that Chixster wasn’t willing to move in.

I weighed up my options… like Busola, I too could break away but I’d already done so with another group of black girls and opted to move in solely with naija babes… hmmm... if I pulled out from this group then my only choice was living with Jay… how was I going to explain living with a guy (even though our friendship was purely platonic) to my folks? I wasn’t... so Jay wasn’t an option.

Determined, I spoke to Chixster again... she gave in a little this time… she said that the only way we were living in that place was if we waged a spiritual war against the premonition and won... No problem I thought... my fighting spirit was ready... I would put on The Armour of God (as in Ephesians 6:10-20) and go with her… Chixster said we should start by sprinkling holy water in every single room and praying... if her feelings against the place diminished we'd be winning. As I held the phone to my ear, I started to ponder how exactly we would get a priest to come with us on a 2nd viewing... hmmm... at that moment Chixster interrupted my thoughts & let it be known she had holy water we could use.

We went back.

The 2nd time I was there I felt ‘it’ too… but it so happened to be the room that I had chosen as mine that was particularly problematic… you see my room was the only one with a built-in wardrobe (I told you I had standards). When we opened it, we found a small skeleton…

Like Aoife… this time I started screaming.

me, my health & I

2008-09-17T14:05:00.048+01:00

Last week I turned down workingon a project which meant I’d have to commute to up north every Monday and return back to mine on Friday… the drive is about 6 hours each way…I politely told them no thanks & then added if they chose to keep on taking work up north then they should hire competent folk that live in the area…

This week I got coerced into being the Engineering Consultant for a new bid and I’m not inspired at all…5 days of my time is all I’ve agreed to… I just hope 5 days of work will NOT turn into 3 weeks…

I can’t seem to concentrate at work this week… I don’t feel well… I think I might be coming down with a cold… watery eyes plus my glands are slightly swollen... my own is that if it is a cold it should just come and pass quickly jo…

I'm blaming my Principal Consultant because he came in with a cold this week... also blaming him since he is the one that keeps pointing the Engineering Managers to my desk to ask me to work on projects that he cannot work on... despite the fact that we are BOTH fully loaded my name is still the automatic default from his lips.

Saying that he has just snuck off to 'The Boat Show'... he was trying to keep it quiet from me but I heard him whispering and acting shifty... not like him... then I saw him turning off his computer early... very unlike him... so I walked up to his desk and was like... ‘er... erm... what are you doing cos you better not be dashing off? btw what is all this I just overheard about a boat show?’... the poor guy looked like he'd just been caught with his hands in the cookie jar... lol

Despite the fact that I was amused, I met his stuttered reply with a stern look... at which point he just laughed... I wasn't too hard on him sha because he was here until about 7pm last night... COB is 4:30pm... I left at about 6:30pm yesterday but it was a longish day for me because I was in for 7:30am.

Anyway... back to my health... I have a pain in my neck… I ignored it over the weekend but it is still there… I know full well it is hurting in the same place as it did 4 years ago…

Good Shepherd just send one of your angels to hold me… for now that’s all I ask.

Maybe it is in my head but at the moment… about everything… I am thinking of this passage:

‘…For I will restore you to health and I will heal you of your wounds,' declares the LORD…’ Jeremiah 30:17

So be it, in Jesus Name.

What was I saying?... oh yes... 4 years ago I found a very small lump in my neck… I searched around at the time and found another…I have to thank God for small mercies because neither have grown since I showed the doctor back then… but I never went back like he suggested…

I will register with a doctor's surgery tonight… I should have done so when I moved up here but hey 21 months is an improvement for me… last time I moved it took me over 2 years to register…actually it was probably closer to 3 years.

Hopefully they’ll quickly transfer my medical notes from the old doctor's practice so I can make an appointment for next week… else I’ll pick them up next Tuesday when I drive south to discuss my Russian work.

Must remember to call the HR dept and take up the private health care option that I’m now entitled to have…no disrespect to the NHS.

juggling act

2008-09-08T13:15:00.016+01:00

I’m so very busy… apparently women are better at multitasking but I’ve always hated having to refocus my attention from an overall goal towards multiple subsidiary tasks… but at the moment everything seems to be major which means I’m juggling… so many things at once… too many things at once…

I read somewhere that the act of juggling is the human ability of moving objects, usually through the air. It is done mainly for entertainment. But this is my life… and it ain't no joke so I’m scared that if I loose concentration for a second, the balls might fall to the ground… I don’t want that.

Lemme explain…

1stly… career ball… I’m busy with work… In addition to what is already on my plate, I think I might have to start going to Russia soon. My company are working on getting me a multiple visa for trips to Moscow, Murmansk and Saint Petersburg… but mehnnn…the idea of trying to acclimatise to the cold over there (especially at this time of year) is not meshing with me one bit... not at all.

Work is kind of doing me a favour with the visa thing as I’ve always wanted to go to Saint Petersburg. The music, culture and cityscape are something to experience apparently. Did you know that the name was thought to be too German, so in 1914 the city was renamed Petrograd? I’m fascinated with the revolution that ousted Tsar Nicholas II and forged the legend of Anastasia. She is the daughter that was supposed to have survived despite the fact that her and her siblings were speared with bayonets. This was because the amount of diamonds they were wearing apparently rendered them bullet proof (to some extent). Anyway after the revolution against the Russian Monarchy, Lenin came into power. Then he died and so they re-named the place Leningrad just 3 days after his death in 1924. However, in the 1991 referendum, 54% of voters chose to restore the name Saint Petersburg. I digress…

Anyway, fellow Nigerians keep telling me that Russians don’t like black people but I’ve known a couple of mixed raced people... as in the Russian and Naija combo (I'm sorry if that sounds like a meal deal but you know what I mean)… anyway, they never complained about being discriminated against when there… but the idea of that curve ball does bother me sha.

2ndly… family ball… I’m busy with plans for my mother’s bday… my brothers and I are trying to organise the celebrations for her 60th next month. My task is trying to sort out the thanksgiving church service... and the cake... and the finger food... and the champagne & wine ...as well as the music for the reception. I'm really starting to wonder what the others are doing... lol... I'm not sorting out the dinner so I'm happy about that sha.

Also we are not sure of what to get her… we think it should be a collective present from the kids but no one has a clue… anybody that read half will know my mother is fussy… the saying ‘it is the thought that counts’ doesn't wash with her… it is BECAUSE we love her we MUST get it right! lol

3rdly… love ball… as in the art of contact juggling… hmmm… that is the ability to manipulate the object (of my affection of course... not that I do manipulation mind you) through constant contact with the body…hmmm…*blushing*… er… not for this post…

4thly... friendship ball... my friend Nailah had a baby today... I didn't even realise she was due... I felt so bad... anyway, I called her as soon as I got her text. She told me she was still at the hospital and that she'd given birth at 1pm today to a beautiful and healthy baby girl... ***ok, so I admit that I added this bit to the original post at about 6pm***... anyway, I am so happy for her. I will try and visit her as soon as she gets out of hospital.

Today is a blessing indeed because it is also one of my closest friend’s birthday. Let's call her Maizah. I called her in Abuja to wish her happy birthday. She told me she was having a lovely romantic dinner organised by her boyfriend and they would be joining their other friends for her birthday get together later.

Lastly… party ball… I’m busy planning my bday in November… my friends and I are off to Nevada. All flights and hotels are booked… I’ve told everybody that no husbands or boyfriends are allowed…

I’ve sorted out most of the special stuff sha… but I’m really surprised that everybody coming to celebrate with me wants to play with the adventure ball… as in go skydiving with me… as in naija babes will jump out of a plane and start free falling at 120 mph (miles per hour) … but only for about 60 seconds…then we get to parachute down for 5 to 7 minutes… can you imagine it?… 5 to 7 minutes of gliding in quiet peace.

Apparently when I free fall I will feel ‘… a sense of weightlessness and wind… it will feel like I’m floating…’

Will be saying a prayer before I take my leap of faith sha!!!

nair

2008-08-28T02:07:00.043+01:00

I stood there knowing full well that I didn’t yet have the courage to go through with my decision. I was nervous. Maybe that was why my hands continued to register the sensation of a thousand tiny thorns prickling at once. Better than suffering from sweaty palms I thought.

I searched through my bag to find a metal object. I held on to it tightly and noticed that the feeling of ‘pins and needles’ slowly began to dissipate until it was no longer there. I said a silent prayer of thanks that a trick my housemistress taught me at only 10 years old still proved useful.

Still I had not mustered the nerve to go in. I had a couple of minutes to spare. As people moved around me, I raised my head to look beyond the sun-smacked parked cars and through the trees; I could see the aquamarine of the Atlantic. I wished I could just go to the beach front and relax with everybody else. It wasn’t an option today... well not at this particular time anyway. I was expected here and all I had to do was walk through the door. I felt betrayed by society… heck…wasn't it was social conditioning that was compelling me to do this instead of sticking to the old fashion methods?

Fuck it. It was not quite against my will... I had a choice.

I turned and opened the door. I took deep breaths to calm myself as I was led downstairs. In the small room, I was asked to take off my clothes. I stripped, from the waist down, to my underwear and then I lay down on my back.

I looked up for reassurance as I questioned how bad it would really be. The eyes that stared back at me were sympathetic. I was told that it affects people at different levels but the pain was a constant factor with all. Then I was asked how far I wanted to take this. All the way; no point doing things like this by halves. My response was greeted with a smile which I tried to return but in truth even the smallest ounce of courage still alluded me.

The hands reached for my legs and split them apart slowly. Then my knickers were pushed gently to one side. I was instructed to hold myself. I didn’t understand. Through a stifled laugh I was told that it would help with the pain I would experienced because it was my first time.

As I felt the warmth of the substance being spread on my inner thigh a soft moan escaped from my lips. It actually felt quite pleasant. I tried to hold on to that thought; pleasure. Then it started and the pain was excruciating. Wave after wave it hit me as I was stripped apart. It became an unbearable assault that caused tears to trickle down my face. Eventually, I lost myself to the pain as the world around me dimmed and went dark.

It was its repetition alone that flickered on the light and brought me back to reality; a distance sounding voice asking me again and again if I was ok.

I whimpered a barely audible confession that it had been hurting. Badly. I was told that I didn’t have to go all the way; this was a good point to stop. Really? I was reassured that I had been trying to be too brave as most people were not able to go through with it completely; not the first time in any case. To keep going would be foolish.

I sat up slowly still dazed and sore. As I put my clothes back on, I was told I needed to return in 4 to 6 weeks. Apparently the pain wouldn’t be as bad the second time round. Yeah right… who was trying to kid who now? I didn't know if I would come back but I knew I would never attempt to go all the way ever again. I knew my limit.

As I stepped outside, I still could not see distinctly despite the fact that it was a sunny afternoon. Now I understood what those poor cartoon characters were meant to have been feeling after they connected with a ‘POW’ and the stars circulated above their heads.

15 months later I recounted the experience to my good friend Jay.

Jay: What made you so confident you could do it?
Shubby Doo: Once I got there...there was no going back.
Jay: Was it worth it?
Shubby Doo: When I looked up and saw the smile on Spartan’s face… it sure was.
Jay: Women… you guys are too hardcore about these things sha.
Shubby Doo: It hurt o but it didn't kill me abi?... I guess it wasn’t that bad really. Hey, you should try it.
Jay: Ehnn… really?… what do you recommend?
Shubby Doo: Waxing? for a guy?… I think probably a ‘back, sack and crack’… hmmm… for you?… I dunno but I would love to be a fly on the wall if you ever do go sha because getting that bikini wax felt like torture the 1st time… not as much now sha… but mehnnn... I have nothing but respect for all those women that opt for a Brazilian or the full Hollywood ‘bald eagle’ look.

Jay smiled as he raised an eyebrow at me. Then he changed the subject.

crossroad blues

2008-08-18T11:56:00.081+01:00

This post is dedicated to Naapali (doc since you say you have a compass and a map…I’d really like to know where you got those from so that I may source mine too and use them to avoid the hazards of the valleys).

Anyway… back to my post…

I will start with snowflakes… these are formed from tiny super-cooled cloud droplets as they freeze. Each one is approx 10μm (i.e. 10 microns) in diameter…delicate things don’t you think?… they have a geometry that is so intricate that each one is deemed unique… much like the human soul.

I have said before that within the House of Agbada Daggers I am Flying Snow (do you like the new profile pic btw?… I think it quite appropriate!)

Well sometimes I feel like a glacier formed from snow; a slow river of compacted ice made so because the years have forced so much air out of me. If that is truly the case then I hope I am like a tidewater glacier that flows back into the sea of life. However, I am scared that when I get there a piece of me will break off in the deep water and in doing so that iceberg might cause the water to explode upwards.

I came very close to exploding this weekend when somebody close to me lied to me. They looked into my eyes, then called God’s name and lied.

The lie could not hurt me but my heart bled for the one that he would keep hurting; as well as for the others that he would keep trying to hurt. That I cannot abide. To say my soul is not troubled about this… about what I am capable of doing to stop this… is untrue.

This weekend I realised that I was at a metaphorically juncture in my life because both the physical and abstract met. I saw the devil in his eyes and he offered me a deal but I refused to trade in my soul or theirs. He told me that he would release the pain I have carried for too long so that Flying Snow would not become as cold and hard as ice.

Good Shepherd with you there is no pain… whatever there is here in this life… is not everlasting… that comes after.

So knowing this to be true, how could I suddenly accept a deal with the devil to become the King of the Delta Blues?… I could not. I did not. I will not. What did I do?… I simply chose to sing my ordinary version of the crossroad blues. For now, that is the small thing that I can do to ward him off; in doing so I have committed my worries and fears to God.

So here I am… at an intersection of roads…is there a better way to say that?… hmmm… I think there is… I am at a crossroad in life and I want to continue and embark on my own path. In doing so I feel like I am betraying another because I know I must leave the old behind. Only then can I return to it; only then can I understand more about the beauty of ages.

Good Shepherd I am looking to you (as I have always have) to guide me on this path.

Besides… you know I hate the idea of a satellite navigation systems simply because someone once told me that ‘women can’t read maps’… I will not be beaten by that statement… yes, I admit that I have gotten lost plenty of times; within cities, en route to cities, en route in life. Mostly because I have not trusted myself. This lack of self belief somtimes causes me to take a left or right turn much too early when I should have just continued forward. Goodness me, I even remember my delight at actually being able to drive on my own only to find out that I had missed my exit at a roundabout and was already halfway to Liverpool instead of Manchester.

Good Shepherd I want you to know that I will not stop trying to master how to read that map.

I will continue trying to drive through life without the devil on my shoulder, whispering where to go to me or telling me when to change gears … so what if I failed my driving test two times before… I passed it the third time. So what if I crashed the company hire car into the car park gates as I tried to reverse out… I believe that that is what car insurance is for.

My soul is insured through you. I smile now as I remember crying late that night when I was driving. I had followed diversion upon diversion not really knowing where they were taking me. I had been on the road for nearly 8 hours. It was close to midnight. I was tired and lost…very certain I would drive into a ditch cloaked in darkness. I calmed myself down and prayed. I decided to risk it and take the next turning and suddenly I stumbled upon a hotel. They had no spare room but the lady at the desk called another hotel about 5 miles away and organised a room for me. There is where I laid my head to sleep that night. It was a peaceful sleep for I knew that:

‘... thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me...’ Psalm 23

I will continue my best on this path… Yes I know I drive a little too fast for your liking at times… darn, I even admit to taking part in those unofficial races on the motorway. Er… I guess I am also a little too impatient at other times… I have used the inside lane to undertake in the past and you've seen me overtake those slow moving tractors on narrow country lanes… and perhaps once or twice I have very stupidly tried to out manoeuvre another on a blind summit.

Good Shepherd thank you for always being there with me and stopping me from endangering others and myself.

I have discovered that it is important to pace myself… the key is to learn from my mistakes and grow into that which I know myself to be … as a result I am a better driver… my map reading is coming along too :-)

Good Shepherd I choose you. Always.

trick modes

2008-08-11T00:01:00.064+01:00

Reverie: You are going to be in so much trouble you know.
Shubby Doo: Why?
Reverie: They already think something happened between us.
Shubby Doo: Why would they?
Reverie: That time you gave me a massage.
Shubby Doo: oh!

‘Rewind’ back to that Easter Sunday. Reverie had been in a playful mood at the beach. In the pool, I caught a glimpse of something moving in the corner of my right eye. I realised too late that it was him underwater as he grabbed my ankles and pulled me under.

When we both re-surfaced for air, he started pulling me by my waist towards the deep end. Now he wore a mischievous grin, in addition to his togs. I recognised this as my ‘cue’ so I threw my arms around his neck and held on to him too. I was amused… he had assumed wrongly that I couldn’t swim… hmmm… interesting!

Shubby Doo: What are you doing?
Reverie: Nothing.
Shubby Doo: I can swim you know.

As if to test me, he let go and swam away. I was tempted to feign panic… to start throwing my arms in the air… to start begging to be rescued. I didn’t. I was already aware of the crowd of people watching us. Instead I swam towards him smiling. As I got nearer, I reached out and started to take his face into my hands... for a caress perhaps. As he let his guard down, I jumped up and plunged his head under the water. Laughing, this time, I swam away.

Rosetta: What was that between you and Reverie in the pool?
Shubby Doo: He thought I couldn’t swim.
Rosetta: And?
Shubby Doo: And nothing.
Rosetta: Well it sure didn’t look like nothing to me and everybody else watching.

I ‘paused’ for thought at my words... had they been an ‘empty speech act’? Had I expressed something false? Granted, an underlying chemistry had always been there between us but neither Reverie or I had ever made it a big deal. We were family friends first. I tried to dismiss them but her words kept niggling at the back of my mind. I was now a little uncomfortable as I ‘re-played’ an earlier conversation in my head.

Reverie: Nope, I’m not taking you to the beach.
Shubby Doo: Please.
Reverie: Hmmm…ok but in exchange for a massage?
Shubby Doo: Fine.
Reverie: I’ll be there in 10mins. Be ready.

I hadn’t been serious when I had said yes but apparently he was. He made it quite clear that there was no way he was going to let me to renege on our deal.

From the beach we went to Churrascos with the others to grab a bite to eat and then it was back to his. After the Terminator 3 DVD finished I woke him up and asked him to take me back home. As he dropped me off he told me he’d be back to pick me up in 30mins; we were going clubbing. After that it was back to his again. We drank vodka shots, looked at his Christmas pictures and swapped stories. Finally, we went upstairs to his room. He took off his clothes and got on the bed, face down, in just his boxers. I straddled him, applied the oil and worked his body. It was just a back massage… honestly that's all… but I ended up spending the night there.

As if someone had suddenly pressed ‘play’, my mind jolted back to the present.

Shubby Doo: You told them nothing happened right?!
Reverie: Yep… but they don’t believe me.

I sighed. I wished I could ‘fast forward’ into the future again… I needed to know if the current premise of our relationship would always hold true. Was holding on to it ‘delusional’ or was it a ‘limiting belief’ which inhibited exploration? I remembered I was the ‘child of a dream’ which had revealed Reverie... but now I was no longer sure which of two ‘modifiers’ accompanied its inevitability... was it scepticism or gullibility?

I made up my mind there and then to ‘practice believing’; to ‘exercise faith’. However, in the car, I stayed silent in my resolve.

It was now after 6am on New Years Day and Reverie was driving me back home. To his.

redemption song

2008-08-04T09:53:00.013+01:00

I was thinking about Bob Marley’s Redemption Song all weekend, this part in particular:

‘…But my hand was made strong, By the ‘and of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation, Triumphantly.
Won't you help to sing, These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever have: Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them can stop the time…’

The song reminds me of an altercation I had with an armed officer this year who thought I was ‘a nobody’ and didn’t know that:
· I am not afraid of trained officers holding guns because my father was in the Air Force.
· I wasn’t going to stand for his small mindedness or his patronizing and covertly racists remarks.
· My hand was made strong by the hand of the Almighty.

I am going to call him PC Plod (which is an big insult to Enid Blyton’s character... so I'm taking a moment here to apologise to the author... the PC Plod in this post bears no resemblance at all to hers).

PC Plod saw me and wrongly thought me to be ‘Noddy’; however, he failed to understand that ‘Noddy’ got into trouble because he never knew how ‘Toyland’ worked.

I do.

Below are various excerpts from a letter I wrote to his office and the regulators of his office. I confess that I've had to edit it quite heavily (it was over 4 pages long...); however, I've tried my best to make it read as a whole here.

At 8:19am …I left my car and started to exit the car park on foot. I saw I was being approached by a member of the constabulary from the gate. I now know this to be PC Plod. I stopped to listen to what he had to say.

He informed me that the speed at which I had come around the bend was a cause of concern. He said that seeing a car approaching at that speed automatically put the constabulary at the gates on their guard. I said I... acknowledged what he was saying and... would take his advice on board. He proceeded to point to where my car had been moving at speed when it had startled the constabulary. At this point I corrected him. I said that I had not been speeding because I was driving at about 30mph. He agreed.

He chose to repeat his statement and I chose to repeat mine; I had not been speeding. I decided to walk away and avoid an argument when I realised that neither of us would relent; however, I only headed towards my office building after I acknowledging his concerns again and thanking him for bringing it to my attention.

At approximately 10:00 my Company Director… came to tell me that I had visitors…two ‘armed policemen’… wanted to see me. I asked if he would accompany me and sit in on the conversation because I wanted a credible witness to what was to take place. He agreed.

As there were four people in the room I will only continue to highlight parts of the discussion that I believe were important.

I find it disturbing that after my Director mentioned that I had worked on a secure site, the conversation moved away from the incident that morning and centred on what I believe to be the PC Plod’s unjust and scornful ‘perception’ of my attitude.

I am a professional at work...I take serious offence to somebody saying they think that I have a ‘just got out of bed’, and ‘could not be bothered’ attitude. That comment made by PC Plod is unfounded and I take it to be real slight on my character... For the record I wanted it noted that the day before the incident, I had just been told that a close family relation had died... This was on my mind the morning I was approached by PC Plod. I have a text message I sent and phone records to family members in London and Nigeria to prove this fact.

PC Plod said I... walked away while he was talking to me ‘with a talk to the hand’ attitude. Please note he said this twice. At both times I said I took offence to that particular statement because I had never actually said those words and asked him what he meant by that. He did not answer... I never raised my hand at PC Plod or gestured inappropriately to PC Plod at anytime when he had approached me as I left the car park or entered the office building.

I do not feel it was correct for PC Plod to put me under additional duress at my workplace by saying things about me that are disparate to the initial incident that had cause him to approach me in the morning. Comments such as ‘just getting out of bed’, ‘not being bothered’ or my so called ‘talk to the hand’ attitudes are condescending, out of context and have not place in the discussion.

As long as I do not pose a danger to the public... I believe I should be able to drive to and from work with peace of mind. I do not want to feel that I am being targeted or harassed unjustly for correcting a member of the constabulary about the fact that I was not speeding if I felt he kept implying that I had been. I chose to walk away from him after I had agreed to take note of his point several times to avoid a heated altercation. The way I was driving...was not illegal or dangerous.

I want to make clear that if the speed limit approaching the gate is changed to 10mph, I would adjust my speed accordingly and drive at 10mph. As... stated several times, I have taken aboard the concerns of the constabulary at the gate because I also want to avoid any possibility of an accidental discharge of firearms aimed at a vehicle that I (or any law abiding citizen) is driving.

I got a 2 page letter in response with an apology.

sex, lies &...2. games

2008-07-29T00:19:00.075+01:00

I knew she liked ‘the game’. In particular, Rosetta liked strategising about how best to play ‘the game’ with whomever she chose to play it with. As it was her only real mental stimulation, she played for maximum physical satisfaction.

At first I ignored them. Then the status updates on fb went from being just puzzling to slightly melodramatic. Finally they became very worrying. After 3 weeks, it had not stopped so I checked her wall. Some of her 600+ friends had already asked after her well being but few of these were our mutual friends. With a sense of perplexity, I sent her a text to check her sanity. She called me back.

Babes I have so missed you. All these yeye friends here just dey like to knife person for back.

Was that what the cryptic fb messages had been about?

Yes. I have been to hell and back. I was in so much pain but God is great. He delivered me after I went through so much. Do you know I was pregnant? What am I saying?... seriously, I was o! It happened recently. The baby’s father acted like an asshole sha. At first when I told him, he didn’t know what to do or say. Then he started behaving like a childish fool and he kept messing up. He even stopped taking my calls. Now that it is all done and dusted he is now trying to apologise. Motherfucker! I told him that God will judge what happened between us.

I hated that she had played this particular ‘game of chance’ and the baby had lost. I prayed silently to heaven. I guess her behaviour was to be expected. But what had she really expected of Dapo?

Ehnnn? What did you say? No it wasn’t Dapo’s baby o! When he found out I was pregnant he said he would stick by me no matter what. Then, I told him it was Shola’s baby. He said lai lai!...raise Shola’s child as his own? God forbid. We broke up sha.

Shola ke? Not him!!! She knew he simply loved the fun of ‘the chase’. When had this started?

That time I told you that I let him walk me home, we didn’t really do anything even though he kept begging me to allow him. He said ‘not doing’ was making him crazy. In the end I said ok but all I allowed him to do was just enter me once and come straight out. It doesn’t count.

One thrust doesn’t count abi? C’mon even Clinton with his big cigar knows it all counts. So had they started seeing each other from that time?

It wasn’t like that now. Honestly, I tried to keep away from him after that but we jammed at a club. He knows that in a million years I would never have slept with him if I hadn’t been drunk. That is why we didn’t use a condom sha.

She circumscribed to the time & place. Then she chose to play with no personal protective equipment. I wondered if she really believed what she was saying. I had always known why she loved playing in this ‘world of make una believe’; it was one that was internally removed from everything real around her. Inside it, her hurt... her real sense of pain was dulled in ‘freaky deaky’ ecstasy. Had her husband found out what was real, he would have hurt her… correction… he would have killed her.

Evans ke? It would have been hard to hide it but thankfully that one is still doing his own rubbish jare. I wanted to keep it but he would have known it wasn’t his. I mean how can I explain to my oyinbo husband that I born black baby for am? Besides we haven’t slept together lately.

Their bedroom ‘war games’ had never surprised me. She was in her twenties but he was in his… err… later years. Surely, the fb malarkey had not been about Evans. If not, then who?

It’s Aalyya and Amaka. They have been real bitches lately. Can you imagine that they have been going around spreading my gist? My friend called me to tell me that they had been talking to her about me. Thank goodness I had already told her what had happened so she could tell that Aalyya had remixed the story. I called Aalyya and told her to leave me the hell alone. What status does she think she will gain by bringing me down? They should carry their wahala waka go jo. And Linda has been a cow too!

Who was Linda?

She is my friend now... shebi I told you about her before? I did now... na im I dey help to start new business. You can't remember? This your memory sef! Anyway, I looked at my husband’s phone and there are missed calls from Linda. He tried to hide it from me. I know she wants to fuck him. She thinks if he does he will set her up. Bitch! Why does she wants to spoil my own? In Jesus' name, nothing will ever spoil my own. Me too let me say ‘Amen’. Awww... honestly, don't worry about me. I’m fine now babes. Iheatu has been so supportive.

Who the hell was Iheatu?

Iheatu na my new boyfriend now. He is from America. He is trying to make it here as an Artiste. Before you ask, the guys hasn’t come near me like that o! I know you now...hahaha...that is why I quickly said it. I told him everything and he just wants to take care of me. He wants me to heal. Plus he doesn’t want to be my ‘bit on the side’.

I chuckled at this...I couldn't help it. Of course he didn't. I had never heard of a man that wanted to be any woman’s side dish. Unless...

I promise you, I’m not giving him anything. I mean I know he is struggling sha but he hasn’t asked me for money to help him out. Hello? Hello? Can you hear me now? I can hear you. What was I saying?...Yes, of course I'm sure. I've offered but he says he doesn't need it... he says not yet. I'm just happy that he loves me and is willing to wait until I’m ready to leave my husband. Can you imagine that cow Aisha is after him?

I thought Aisha was dating Wole Ray?

You know how e bi at Christmas now. Why didn’t you come btw?

I had crashed my car… it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Sorry o! Anyway at Christmas there is a massive influx of new blood. Wole Ray had already enjoyed her Hausa ass so he dumped her just before. She is begging to be noticed. Please she should have some self respect and stop competing with me. Can you believe she actually turned up at the door of Iheatu’s hotel room in Abuja uninvited? He turned her groupie ass down. He loves me.

Sadly, I doubted he had turned Aisha down. I also doubted that he loved Rosetta already. I was willing to wager that his probable maxim was one of ‘maximum returns’. It was more likely that he was in love with her ‘dollar dollar bills’.

Crap…my credit has nearly finished. It has been so good to talk to you again. Bye.

Goodbye Rosetta.

I sigh and hang up, knowing that the spec that could have become a luminous pearl may instead develop as a very visible crack in a flawed diamond.

house of agbada daggers

2008-07-19T13:56:00.075+01:00

This post is inspired by Afrobabe (babes, I know you say your mum is a prayer warrior but I said my own prayer for change for ‘3rd brother’).

Her latest post for a ‘solution required!’ got all sorts of comments (babes, for being a good sport about it all, especially with the few that could possibly be viewed as negative, I salute you).

Anyway… my comment at hers was based on her concept of ‘3rd brother’. I chose to depict the chain of events in her post as a scene in a chinese film (yep for the sake of authenticity, I even threw in the out of sync voice over)… thankfully she took it as intended & saw the funny side!

In the same way, let me introduce you to my family… ours is the ‘House of Agbada Daggers’… I actually prefer the ‘House of Flying Jalabias’… it sounds way cooler but we are yoruba & correctly proud of it.

The ‘House of Agbada Daggers’ follows many rules. One of which is ‘honour’… it is key. The family honour must be protected at all times. As a result all members of our house do not take any criticism of any of its other members well from outsiders. To us it is a declaration of war. We have waged many successful campaigns because we follow the mantra of military ‘qi’.

We are not stupid though… in any situation after this has happened; ‘the defender’ will haul ‘the accused’ into the dock. ‘The jury’ is called & seated. Then judgement begins. I hated the family meetings because the sentences were quite demoralising. I learned a lesson from them sha… I got... correction… we all got smarter with our antics.

Anyway… ours is a house of six ruling members… I say ruling because it is rare for any of us to back down from our convictions. I digress...

There is Baba, Mãe, Ade, Ali, Shubby Doo and ATA.

Baba aka Emperor aka Old Master Bo
Baba was an air force officer. Despite his usual gra-gra, to all his children he would say ‘take it easy… fi ara ba le’. These words were always accompanied with a hand gesture that indicated the same. My father taught me the lesson of silence…a wise man takes time to listen…it is especially important if one has nothing intelligent to say.

Old Master Bo: Flying Snow, anybody can be heard; but to be understood one must to know right words to use. 1st acquire knowledge about your subject and then your audience. Remember ‘a little impatience will spoil great plans.’

My father once found out that Ade was caught sneaking out of school. He did not deal with this immediately; instead he ruined the holiday for my brother because Ade was left to stew in the fear of the unknown for its entirety. With 2 days to go, my father woke him up at 5:30am and told him to get dressed (note that he didn’t say brush, baff and get dressed o!). Ade was ready, at the front door, in less than 5 mins. They went out for a walk. While they were out he told him this.

Old Master Bo: Li Mu Bai, I am not happy about your behaviour because you should have been in school. But I am not angry that you snuck out. I am angry that you got caught. My son, now I hope that ‘a fall into a ditch makes you wiser’.

Mãe aka Empress aka Jade Fox aka The Governess
I am very much like my mother… we can smell a rat from a distance. However, our methods of execution are very different. She tends to act swiftly; setting up a cunning trap. The furore around her kill is normally quite dramatic.

My mother found out about the true nature of my relationship with Ludriness when she called me at school. I had a deal with my house mistress who decided to take that particular night off. Her substitute told my mother that I was spending the w/e away and that she had signed the form (yes o! I faked her signature). My mother made no fuss; she simply asked for a contact number and called. Luridness picked up. She never told my father of my deception but I was greeted with some serious slaps when I got home.

The Governess: Are you sleeping with him? Is this why I sent you to school? Your life is ahead of you or is it that you want to ruin it? By doing this you are ‘binding your feet to prevent progress’.

After my tears, there were more questions. With my answers she concluded that Luridness was not the best for me (does my Mãe have a spooky sixth sense or what?!)

Ade aka Crown Prince aka Li Mu Bai
Ade was the prime source of family meetings. As a young teenager, he indulged in the usual drinking and man chasing woman wrapper business. He always stayed out late and came back during the early hours of dawn. It drove my mother crazy; somehow my dad remained calm. He sat my brother down to explain something simple to him.

Old Master Bo: Li Mu Bai, you are young and your exuberance is telling you to seize every opportune moment but don’t over do this… a she ju man pa yon. It is not right to be ‘adding the legs while painting a snake’.

As Ade grew older he chose to hover in between the young and old because he felt that his duty as first born demanded it. He reigned supreme in the absence of our parents but shielded us a lot from our mother’s rantings. Ade got a thick skin for it. However, it was not bullet proof so like Neo he learned to dodge with skill. Suddenly, despite his usual exploits, the family meetings became more about Ali, ATA, and I. I paid attention and realised his plan; diversionary tactics. Egbon was taking style to betray us to our parents to keep the heat of him…Kai! It had to stop. I gathered the others together to discuss the situation.

Flying Snow: All we have to do is figure out his plan to know his next move. ‘When the map is unrolled, the dagger is revealed’. There are three of us. Eyin boys e ja ka so owo po. If we stand together united, ‘three people can make up a tiger’.

These days when Ade sees me he smiles. He calls out ‘ringleader don land. lil’ sis how now?’ or ‘kaisho, oyabun of all oyabun’. I laugh.

Ali aka 2nd Son aka Young Prince aka Jin
Ali and I are very very close but the guy knows how to wind me up…big time. There is this thing he does with his hands and eyes that still fucks me off till today. If anybody else tries it and I’m cool; totally unfazed but with Ali I loose it completely. My family finds the whole scene hilarious.

Ali terrorised me as a kid. In turn, I took great pleasure watching him being punished. I developed a particular wail that became universally recognised as a cry for help (a bit like the signal in batman…lol).

As kids, my presence antagonised him & I just didn’t understand why he always went for me. Apparently to him I was the younger sister who had betrayed him before I learnt to speak. The story goes that he came to play with me as a toddler and I smashed a battery over his head….LMAOOO (secretly I’m happy I got the first jab in but officially I’m still blaming muscle spasm). As kids, my parents always told me to leave him alone.

The Governess: Flying Snow we’ve bought you a new Ballerina Barbie doll. Leave Jin alone, ‘a rat who gnaws at a cat's tail invites destruction.’

Barbie, Ken and Skipper were great distractions in the short term but in the end I just wanted to hang with my older bro.

One time, a day after ATA’s naming ceremony, I was outside playing and I saw Ali pick up a knife that had been used to kill the malu. It was clean. He put it into the fire. Then, with a devilish glint in his eye, he turned and called me…I skipped over. He placed the hot blade on my neck and burnt me. My mother beat the sheggae out of him (thank you again God for this skin of mine that heals really well because I don’t have a scar despite Ali’s assault).

Although I have always loved him dearly, Ali is one of my inspirations for taking up kung fu for a year with a real shaolin monk after uni (no joke!). I also learnt to run fast because of him and every time I see him, I remember my unbeaten season at 200m sprints with pride.

Shubby Doo aka Princess aka Flying Snow
You know me a little already… through my blog… this is my look inward within an enclosure of boundless space… it is my interpretation of me. I am not quite sure why I blog but I do know that ‘a bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song’. I am Flying Snow.

ATA aka 3rd Son aka Small Prince aka Shinobi aka Nameless
ATA and I are extremely close. His is my protégé. For my every action, ATA can describe the thought process behind my decision. He decided to study engineering too; although, our chosen dialects are different. He also took up martial arts (kempo karate) but he did it for many years. ATA is the silent assassin of the house.

When ATA was younger, to all his questions I would reply ‘I will tell you when you are older’ (yeah right!... like either he or I would remember… I just wanted the little brat out of my way... funny how history repeats itself but this time my intolerance of him was because he wasn't born a girl!). He too didn’t like being ignored/ or dismissed. I think it was one of the reasons that he consciously chose to be the best of all of us (as he saw us); he is brighter than me, he is stronger than Ali and he is wiser than Ade.

With time the age gap between all of us has reduced and we are all much closer. We are also quite close because Ade, Ali, ATA and I used to run around hitting each other as kids (and well beyond those years). The aim of this game of endearment was simple… strike the deadliest blow and then seek cover. While the victim writhed in pain, the assailant would comment hysterically on the effectiveness of the strike.

Due to my gender and his youth, ATA and I played tag team… but not always… within the ‘House of Agbada Daggers’ when the heat was on you were on your own. One day, I landed one on ATA just after we’d just dealt with Ali together. When I saw the confusion in his eyes, I could no longer keep a straight face… I collapsed laughing. ATA calmly walked over, picked me up and floored me. I was stunned… my 13 year old little brother ke?… na lie!... I wanted a rematch (very dumb idea I know but the small boy had just chanced me!). ATA did it again. His take down was just too quick so I cannot tell you his exact move (perhaps some sort of suflex). I can tell you that Ali just stood there, and nearly pissed himself with laughter. Ade learnt about this and sat me down.

Li Mu Bai: Flying Snow you are older but you are a girl… your age made you forget that he was learning new techniques to prove himself as a match for us in various ways… your attitude towards Nameless was wrong… remember that ‘the arrogant army will lose the battle for sure.’ My approach to him will now be different thanks to you. Senior boy thinking is now needed for the kid to ensure he does not ‘out-gun’ us.

How very true… last week ATA sent me a text and then I called him.

ATA: Na wah for this your need to bond o!
Shubby Doo: Eh?!
ATA: Why do you always call me when I text you?
Shubby Doo: You asked me for some info and you are now opening your mouth to complain about my method of delivery. This kid, you’re not a serious human being.
ATA: Hahaha… cheers sis. But you know that once I have this PhD, you must start calling me Dr ATA sha.
Shubby Doo: Love you lil’ bro but dream on... no forget say ‘okra no dey grow pass im master’ … hahaha.

You now have an insight into the members of the ‘House of Agbada Daggers’.

Proceed & comment but beware of our ‘honour’.

child of a dream

2008-07-09T22:53:00.112+01:00

I was going to call him ‘Iskandar al-Akbar’…but I cannot. He did not conquer my world…not even half of it. So his name here is simply Spartan but he is the stuff of my personal legend.

When I met Spartan, I was shattered; completely spent. I had finished dating Mohammed Luridness… but he wouldn’t let go. I laugh now but kai!... that Luridness boy showed me!

Spartan trained me to use superior weaponry and strategy to protect my heart. He showed me that the power to do this was one that was actually well established within me (big shout out to my Ma'a here!).

Spartan also enriched my heart by showing me that my capability to love was not something I had lost. He stimulated my spirit and captured my imagination by opening me up again to the many possibilities yet to come my way. Surprisingly, he asked for nothing in return. Yes o!... a normal naija bloke. He is very real... I promise you that I didn’t just magic him (does that even make sense?!) out from nowhere.

Most importantly, Spartan taught me to ‘be’ again without fear of loss. At the time when I most needed it he became my solace. He was someone that I cherished completely.

Let me go back a little in time…to explain my state of mind. To illustrate why being with Spartan was so bloody marvellous; I have to show you the contrast, with what had been, with Luridness.

I started dating Luridness when I was 17. He was 22.
His was Hausa. I was Yoruba.
I’d just dropped physics as I was no longer interested in medicine. He was studying to become a doctor.
His family liked me (or so he said). Mine were indifferent to him (actually my mother abhorred him).

I grew up with his love. So I believed that my love for him was real.

Thinking back now...ours was a comedy of love (albeit tragic for me).

He would complain he hadn’t seen me.
From boarding school, I carry my legs go see am.

He would complain I was still at his place.
No wahala… God dey… I remove myself commot go back school.

Then it stopped being funny and started to hurt...

I found out Luridness had cheated. We broke up.
He pleaded. Time passed. We got back together.

All was well with us until I fell asleep in Luridness arms and I had ‘the dream’. In my dream within a dream, my joy was real. In this future... I stood happily with Reverie at my side.

Hmmm…was this was an omen?…pah!

Then I started to feel guilty about ‘the dream’ because I read somewhere that our dreams are our desires as unconscious expressions. I told myself it meant nothing... except that everytime I thought about ‘the dream’, time whispered ‘shhh... patience child, you’ll see’. But I was caution’s child; someone naturally daunted at any idea that I could successfully take hold of one of life's blissful bait. I dismissed ‘the dream’ and chose to stay in the here & now with Luridness.

Meanwhile, he had other plans…ones that did not include me. I started to suspect that Luridness was cheating again but I chose not to act rashly without proof.

Inevitably, the arguments started…

Shubby Doo: That is not what you said before. Why are you making out like I just imagined this out of thin air?!
Luridness: Investigator! Shubby Doo has come again o! Honestly there is nothing. It is just in your head!
Shubby Doo: It doesn’t make sense. Haba, I’m not completely stupid.

Ha!!! I think I was. My normal intelligence failed me as I accepted one disappointment after another…

I invited him to my graduation to celebrate my success and to meet my folks.
He called the day before to say he wouldn’t be coming.

Sometimes he didn’t call. So I wouldn’t call.
Then he would call just to blast me for not calling. Eh?!!!

One night he called to say he had crashed his car…completely wrote it off. He failed to add he had been carrying about his new girlfriend at the time.

I found out Luridness had cheated. We broke up.
He pleaded. Time passed. We got back together.

I am ashamed to say I tolerated things that I don’t normally...
I am ashamed to say I dammed well let Luridness drive me to the edge of madness.

One day I looked in the mirror and I didn’t like who was staring back at me…being with him was turning me into a crazy woman… ‘olorun ma je!’ Ladies, when you no longer recognise yourself as you…it is time to leave.

I prayed for strength. I prayed for indisputable proof so I would not weaken in my resolve to let go. I got it…he had two other girlfriends.

I broke it off again.

First Mohammed Luridness’ mother wrote me a letter. She apologised for his behaviour. She had thought I’d be her daughter-in-law. She was sorry it was not to be.

Then Mohammed Luridness’ step sister called me…who was I dating? I should give her brother another chance.

Then Mohammed Luridness’ half sister sent me IM…her brother was still in love with me…how far?!

Meanwhile Mohammed Luridness was still doing his own rubbish to wind me up…

I said don’t call. Luridness would call.
I said don’t text. Luridness would text.
I said leave me alone. Luridness would turn up at my flat at 1am.

Then one day he called me to tell me that he’d gotten someone pregnant. The stupid idiot actually opened his mouth to say it was my fault…if I had gotten back with him it would not have happened. I laughed out loud. I said he needed to turn to God.

I called his cousin…I told her to warn him well well…I wanted him out of my life.
She talked to him…no joy. She told his mother.

Mohammed Luridness’ mother sent me an e-mail. As her son she loved him but she told me I should not be afraid to cut him off.

I tried.

He would still call with unknown or withheld numbers. The one I hated was when turned up to my flat at the dead of night… if something happened to him as he drove recklessly to mine they would say that I was doing juju for him…one that was so strong that he put me before his child…Hell No!!!

His games exhausted me…yes, my fault…as an amateur I should have known the weakness of my hand and run screaming from the table.

He ravaged my heart and left me feeling void … yes, my fault… I chose to look straight into the eyes of Medusa.

It had to stop….I prayed. Hard! God gifted me with Spartan.

Luridness found out about Spartan...he couldn't believe that I had traded up for better looking and younger model... it dwarfed him. He kept trying but eventually he left me alone. Actually saying that he still tried to get in touch last year… I told him ‘never call me or text me again’. His reply was ‘what is wrong with you …ok no probs. I won’t’. I thought to myself ‘ode olodo oshi!’.

Anyway... back to better thing jare...

4 years after I dreamt it, ‘the dream’ came true. …I was at a family wedding in Lagos. I was laughing and taking pictures with the bride, and then suddenly it felt like I was experiencing déjà vu... I turned and I saw Reverie at my side. It was surreal (still is whenever I think about it)...but as caution’s child I was too scared to completely embrace ‘the dream’ which had revealed Reverie ...as what exactly?!

Reverie (whom I was going to call McDreamy... shabby idea abi?) and I became very good family friends. He just refused to let me disappear inside myself. If he heard I was in town he would just turn up to take me out. He’d take me to the beach, barbecues, parties etc…No wasn’t an option. To be honest, I welcomed it. I had few female friends I trusted in Las Gidi and I was wary of hanging out with male friends. With Reverie, I felt secure in the fact that because we were family friends I wouldn’t hear any stupid gist about me.

One New Years Eve, Reverie invited me to his dinner party at Ikoyi. We were waiting for all the guests to arrive at dinner. Then I heard someone say ‘the preacher’. I turned to see Spartan arrive with his brother. They had just come from church. He sat down and said very little. Instantly I liked his calmness…plus he was tall and very good looking…haba, I’m not blind...the guy has a body of a god…okay not quite but his does closely resemble the bodies of the Spartans in the film in 300…

Anyway… knowing that some Naija guys ‘like to feel’ too much, I simply said hello when introduced and then continued trying to have a conversation with Wole Ray who was an old work colleague. This in itself was funny exercise because Wole Ray was slightly tipsy…correction…he was very much inebriated. I was thinking to myself ‘how?... hasn’t he just come from church too?’, when Spartan tried to join in. I’m not very good with new people….I prefer to watch and listen first…so I disengaged and after a while I excused myself and disappeared outside to watch the fireworks.

From the dinner party Reverie, I and co went to Tangiers. Reverie had to dropped someone off so he arranged to meet us later but in the meantime he told me that Spartan would take me and two others to Bacchus. This was in the days before all roads... it was well before the actualisation of 6 degrees north…

Anyway... when we were about to enter the club I felt his hand on my waist...hmmm....

I went upstairs and was lucky enough to find a seat next to some girlfriends. I sat down, happy at the thought that I no longer had to balance on 4 inch heels.

Sometime during the night I noticed that Spartan kept returning to stand next to me.

Spartan: are you ok?
Shubby Doo: yes thanks
Spartan: do you want to dance?’
Shubby Doo: no thanks
Spartan: what would you like to drink?’
Shubby Doo: champagne or a whiskey & coke

He brought back both…hmmm...

He offered me the glass and as I reached for it, he took my hand and kissed it...hmmm...

I expected him to leave again but he didn’t. This dude just stayed by my side. From my seat, I turned to look up at him…he looked straight into my eyes and sparks ignited…yawah!

Soon it was time to go home…

Spartan: Can I take you home?
Shubby Doo: Thank you but no.
Spartan: Why not?
Shubby Doo: I don’t know you. Plus my mother always told me to make sure I returned back home with whomever I went out with. I came with Reverie.
Spartan: I see. Ok. No problem.

Spartan went to speak to Reverie. Then, without a goodbye, he got in his car and drove off.

We left then too but on the way back home, through my haze, I noticed another car was following us. My first thought was ‘armed robbers’…why hadn’t I insisted on going back home early… I started praying. Then the other car pulled up to my side of the car...abeg why my own side?

At first I continued to face my front...then I turned and looked out of the window. It was Spartan.

He smiled.
I smiled back.
He laughed.
I laughed too.

Reverie wound down my window, leant over, said ‘guilder’, signalled forward and then proceeded to drive off. Guilder ke?... WTF?!!! (abeg which one of una sabi this yeye ‘man talk’ because im meaning pass me).

Reverie drove us back. ‘Give me a minute and I will walk you home’, Reverie started to say but he was interrupted by a presence at the door; it was Spartan. He had followed us back.

I started to smile.

I was so conscious of myself that I was unprepared for the moment Spartan stole a kiss from me when everybody else had disappeared from the living room... it was the breif but sweet... suddenly my knees felt weak...

Alone again... I took a seat to steady myself.

Suddenly Reverie re-appeared and told me he was just stepping out.... as he opened the door to leave he simply said ‘Spartan wants to talk to you’. I looked up again but this time Spartan was now stood in front of me, smiling...

That is how and when I started ‘on the road to Sparta’… starting in Lagos, we meandered through London, travelled to Europe and then headed back to Nigeria.

It turned out to be one of my sweetest journeys…during which Spartan carefully nurtured me underneath his splendid sun.

In turn, I flourished ;-)

sex, lies &...1. blueberries

2008-06-29T16:44:00.082+01:00

Did you know that blueberries are false berries?...apparently these types of fruits are found in plant species with an inferior ovary. However, true berries such as gooseberries, have an edible pulp.

I have met many people in life that want me to ingest their modified pepoes... or their falsehood... and like it. They think by packaging their inferiorities as something sweet, bright and juicy I will not recognise what they have tried to force down my throat. I think it is a shame that they fail to understand that had they given me the choice I might have enjoyed the simple truth better.

In my second year at university, I moved out of halls and started living with three other girls; Chixster was igbo but the rest of us were yoruba.

Let me start with introductions.

1stly, there was Bubbles. She was the youngest. Bubbles was just really sweet.

2ndly, there was Owambe. She was only months younger than me. I have to applaud Owambe…she went from a british size 20 to a size 12 (american size 8) over a period of four years…a mean feat. But her years of being ‘heavy’ meant she had issues…no, she wasn’t some sort of evil…no, she wasn’t inhumanly wicked or cruel…she just desperately wanted to feel among.

I loved the fact that Owambe tried to follow the latest trends and rock the latest designer gear but sadly she didn’t have the persona to carry off loud and quirky colours…nor did she put her outfits together well. Ladies one should know one’s own frame and by a certain age one should know how best to work with that frame to look good. Sadly, Owambe did not dress to maximise her new found frame…the girl was constantly adjusting her clothes that were too tight or pulling down her skirts that were too way short in public. I tried to give her some helpful suggestions but she made it clear that it wasn’t needed. I thought ‘nothing spoil’...not for me anyway...lol.

I found that Owambe was always looking to be the centre of attention…her advice was instructional…her ideas were best…she wanted to rule the roost. I don’t do ‘you are the boss of me’ well so when she started that nonsense I was like ‘abeg get out’. I guess it didn’t help her complex that Bubbles, Chixster and I refused to let her ego rise with us…anything she wanted to show off about was something or somewhere that Bubbles, Chixster or I could say ‘been there, done that and got the t-shirt’ to.

Anyway back to the intros…

Lastly, there was Chixster. She was the slimmest, the prettiest and the kindest…she was genuinely kind. Chixster was constantly worrying about everybody... as our mother hen, to some extent she looked after us. I got on with Chixtser the most because she seemed like a ‘straight shooting’ and ‘to the point’ kinda gal. She was slightly older than me by about two years but she knew how to have fun.

As girls do, we often gathered in Chixster’s room at night to gist. Sometimes we would stay there all night and leave just before the arrival of the morning rays of amber. On one late starry starry night, the topic turned to sex.

Chixster: What do you think about sex?

I decided to take a philosophical approach and said:

Shubby Doo: It is necessary. It can result in life. Creation of life is God’s gift. I think it is amazing that it is a very small way for human beings to really get to actually resemble their creator.

Owambe chose the more common Christian approach and followed with:

Owambe: As a born again, I don’t believe in sex before marriage. I think people should only have the sex after.

Bubbles: Me too I guess. It is not really right.

Eh? I looked from one to the other… I felt like I was in the twilight zone and in this alternate universe standard naija babes were trying to sell me tory! … na lie! I didn’t start the conversation…plus my initial answer hadn’t turned it in this particular direction…but now we where here, I just couldn’t help thinking ‘bloody pretenders!’.

I laughed.

Shubby Doo: Really…you do? hmmm…I guess I was brought up to believe that too but in reality I don’t think it is that simple.

Owambe: It is. Abstinence is not impossible.

Shubby Doo: I agree. It is not impossible. But when two people are together in the heat of the moment it is not easy not to give in to it...especially when those two people think they are in love...or are you saying that you haven’t had sex ever Owambe?

Silence.

Shubby Doo: you nko, Bubbles?

I knew Bubbles she was no saint. My brother had a big problem with us living together because she had been with more than a few naija guys at his university. Bubbles was ‘one of the regulars’. As he tended to live by the rule ‘each to their own’ he’d never been interested in judging her behaviour. He was trying to support my decision to live with whomever I chose but he had issues with us flat sharing...basically because when ‘awon boys’ came visiting to knack Bubbles and he didn’t want anybody implying that it was his little sister that had entertained.

I assured my brother that there was no problem because:

1. I had just come out of a long relationship that had been pretty serious. I wasn't looking to play the rebound game.

2. I said that I'd be ok...I knew how to handle such guys if they did turn up at ours...I'd use the steely resolve that I inherited from my mother...plus he had prepared me well as only an older brother could.

3. Bubbles was now in a committed relationship with Ayo (whom she did eventually marry) so I doubted she would be soliciting illicit visits.

I never mentioned my brother’s concerns to Bubbles because as long as she didn’t make it a problem for me, there was no problem.

But now Bubbles was claiming that sex was only suited for marriage.... hmmm...

Shubby Doo: Bubbles you no dey talk…abi wetin?

Bubbles: I think it is better in marriage.

Shubby Doo: I agree with you whole heartedly but are you saying that you haven’t had sex?

Chixster: I think sex should be with someone you love. Ideally, that commitment comes in marriage.

Bubbles: I agree with Chixster.

I was thinking to myself ‘chai!...these girls just dey dodge my question’…when I heard:

Owambe: As strong Christians, Segs and I have promised ourselves that we will only have sex when we are married. I say no to sex.

I thought ‘Owambe shut up!’. The babe was lying.

Don’t get me wrong…I understand that everybody lies…but if you cannot lie well, my advice is keep it simple or better yet keep quiet & don’t try. If you want to lie to me put some work into it…your story must be robust and your actions must support your story. Not just on the day you spin your tale but forever…I must never be able to pick holes in it…and before you start, you should remember that in time the truth tends to prevail.

In my humble opinion, Owambe’s actions did not support her words. Her room was next to mine so whenever her boyfriend Segs came to spend the weekend, the following would always happen.

12:00am: Owambe and Segs say goodnight.
They enter her room and close the door.

12:10am: I hear her bed springs squeaking…
I would laugh. This was like the tonal work of the string section of the orchestra playing the sonata...it signified the 1st movement of the great symphony to come….

12:15am: Owambe starts giggling.
From time to time Segs laughs loudly.

12:20am: I hear someone lock the door to Owambe’s room with a key.

12:25am: I hear soft moans…
Followed by faint promises of sweet nothings…
Then I hear groans...
I would laugh to myself again. This had to be the ternary movement of the symphony…but why had they re-arranged the order of this classic orchestra piece?… why had they skipped from the 1st movement to the 3rd movement and missed the slow movement?…

12:30am: I hear very, very, VERY loud music blasting out of Owambe’s room.

I have a fertile imagination… so to be fair I am now taking this opportunity to ask all the people reading this…what you think happened in that room next?

Just to help you make up your minds I’ll just say that I also remember that loud music from Owambe’s deck used to wake me up on Saturday mornings too but only if her boo was there with her.

I now realised these babes were true impressionists…they were trying to paint a work of art...they were using movement as the crucial element to distract me so that I wouldn’t focus on ‘the truth’…so I would simply believe what they portrayed as truth. I guess if people don’t see the real you from the obvious visual angles they may just catch a glimpse of a distorted image...one that seems amazing or remarkably refreshing. Well it wasn't working with me...their words just annoyed and irritated me…my mama no born mumu…

I smiled.

Shubby Doo: I think that is so sweet Owambe…to know that all you and Segs do is kiss and cuddle all night… on that small single bed…to loud music that starts at midnight and is on for at least 45 mins…That is love o!

Bubbles laughed out loud.

Shubby Doo: Bubbles I guess that is what you and Ayo do too abi? That is so sweet.

Bubbles: Ok. Let me fess us…surprise, surprise…I’ve had sex.

I was not surprised but I was happy that she had come clean…eventually.

Shubby Doo: Thank you for your honesty. Oya come and sit next to me as we are the only two sinners in this house. We have confessed our sins to God today again in the presence of Owambe and Chixster. Don’t worry confession is part of the Christian faith and practice. All will be well.

Chixster: I guess there is nothing wrong with having sex if you are in love and you are committed to each other…it does not have to be in wedlock despite what naija society tends to dictate but it is preferable.

Shubby Doo: I agree.

I was still wondering why Chixster had chosen to use those particular words...she still had not revealed...when I heard:

Owambe: Segs and I have made love...but we have decided to abstain now until we get married.

Made love ke?…you mean fucked each others brains out while you deafened me! Whatever sha…a confession is still a confession and I am not an enemy of any type of progress that results in the truth. In my mind it was not the whole truth because she was still claiming she wasn't ‘at it’ anymore...but I was happy that she could no longer look me in the eye and start her ‘hypocritical’ crap. The really sad thing is I don’t think she was ever really ‘trying’ to be even be living embodiment of her words…for her it was always about keeping up appearances and trying to say the right things so people could like her and listen to her.

Chixster stayed silent…then she excused herself and she left her own room to make a phone call on her mobile phone…

About 18 months later, Chixster started dating my brother (not the one that had had the problem with Bubbles)…their relationship lasted about 6 months…they were happy-ish but they knew it wouldn’t work when she decided to move to another country so they called it quits.

After they broke up he told me, he was not her first…she was experienced…from way back. I said nothing because I wasn’t shocked by it but his words somehow made me feel let down by her...there had been no need for the illusion. I guess some people simply choose not to share...I do understand that.

I have thought about this some more since then and after all these years I have realised something... as sung by Don McLean in ‘Vincent’, I just want to say that by starting the conversation and by walking out of your room, Chixster “…now I understand what you tried to say to me...”

My brother ended the conversation with a simple admission…Chixster was a bit of a ‘sex fiend’.

Nuff said!

blow

2008-06-22T21:37:00.062+01:00

Last Saturday, I got phone call which I didn’t answer because the roaming charges in Istanbul for my UK phone tariff were high. I sent a reply to explain. The next morning I received a text message asking me to call. I replied the text with another one saying I would call once I was back in England. Then I got another text message. When I read it I thought sod the roaming charges and I called her:

Shubby Doo: Hello. What happened?
Her: Hello. Shubby Doo calm down. Please.
Shubby Doo: Don’t worry about me. What happened? Are you ok?
Her: I’m ok. I’m in bit of pain.
Shubby Doo: What was it this time? Just tell me what happened?

He had beaten her.

She said when the first blow connected; she didn’t even bother to scream she just started running. She locked the bedroom door and then locked herself in the bathroom. When he broke down both doors, she instinctively raised her arms to protect herself…it hadn’t helped. He had just continued to beat her...she said he didn’t stop when she hit the ground...he had just kept pummelling her body with punches and kicks.

She laughed bitterly when she admitted that amidst her screams, she heard him saying repeatedly “I’m going to kill you”.

At one point I thought she said he had used something to hit her over the head. I stopped her...had I heard correctly? what had he used? She said no, he had ‘just’ punched her on the head again and again…

‘just’ ke?…there is nothing ‘just’ about his behaviour.

With every blow he has ever laid on her before last saturday, as well as those blows that he rained down on her on that day, he is ignoring the bible verse that says:

‘…husband love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave himself for her’ Ephesians 5:25

Good Shepherd, let your peace descend upon him. Please show him that the way to love is through, care, affection, commitment, understanding, trust, respect, and sincerity.

I do not understand why he runs off to his village so often...please who does business in the village these days?

Despite my plea for her to stay with her sister in Lagos, reluctantly she goes with him. Before she liked going to his village to see his mother...iya was the kind hearted soul who sheltered her from her monster. His mother is dead now...she said that when she arrived there after iya died he had held on to her tightly...he had wailed he in her arms like ‘a baby’. She was not allowed at the graveside but she heard he hadn't stop crying when they were burying iya.

She does not like going to his village now because it is full of lying and thieving beggars who will say anything to him for some money…that is how they earn their way. She can see through their deceit but she has learnt that it is better to say nothing...one word against them and she incurs his wrath.

I have no understanding why an educated and well travelled man likes to surround himself in such treachery...I guess it is simply because in that remote world he is idolised falsely...she says he likes it when they call him ‘oga’...‘sir…‘governor’…‘chief’...‘daddy’...‘baba wa’...

I think he also likes taking her there when he is itching to use her as target practice...in his village she is away from her loved ones …in his village she isolated.

She is still there now. The doctor has visited her at home several times...in the room with no door. She is now on some medication. She gets more immediate relief when he gives her an injection for the pain. She says hasn't been able to sleep since that night...she is scared to close her eyes.

She says sometimes she wishes it would end...it will someday but sadly I don't think one of them will survive it...she says if by some lucky chance he leaves this world before her as a Christian she is not sure she would observe iddah as his widow...then she says that a mourning period consisting of four lunar cycles and 10 days is a small price to pay compared with what she has endured already. At other times she says she can't help but smile at the thought of her dead parents patiently waiting to receive her but then she remembers the children...always...she thinks first of the children.

Good Shepherd, watch over her. Please take up her struggle and be her shield.

One time, he tore her clothes off as he beat her at home...the village onlookers just stood there and watched the show...that time he left her bleeding and bruised in their front reception room in her underwear...this was about six to nine months after she had had major surgery...he was not the reason she had been in hospital but she was still supposed to be taking it easy.

I do not understand why:
1) It is still considered ok for a man to beat his wife in Nigeria?
2) Such men are always so adept at hiding their true colours up until the time a woman has walked up the aisle and lovingly said “I do”?

Before they got married…he was her gentleman.
After they got married…he stopped her modelling work.
After she gave birth to the children…he stopped her career as a teacher.

Like I've said his abuse is not a new thing...but it is becoming worse...sadly not only for her.

On one occasion, his little boy stood up to him. That should have stopped a grown man...but not this man. Instead, he went to his child’s room and started to throw the boy’s things out…the child was not going to sleep under his roof. She had started begging him to stop…it was not the boy’s fault…she told him he could do whatever he wanted to her. He didn’t continue his attack because he had already satisfied his thirst for violence...but now he had also evoked such fear that she was willing to submit to anything....his ego had been well fed by this notion...so much so that he did not speak to his son for 2 months...can you imagine that they had to specially seek ‘an audience’ with him so that the boy could say sorry for taking mummy’s side.

On another occassion he beat his other son for helping mummy pack as she tried to leave... she had found out (yet again o!) that he was sleeping with someone else...enough was enough...when he wasn't at home, she started moving her stuff out a little bit at a time...he found out. First he beat her...then he asked his boy where had she been going?...where was her stuff?... his eldest son refused to talk. When he was done with both of them he locked each one in a different room to think about what they had done...to think about how they had betrayed him. It was not to happen again.

I could give other examples but there is no point...it always ends the same way...with violence...not because he was raised that way o!...his mother told her that his father would have been ashamed had he lived to see this.

I think he does this because he wants to be master of all he surveys...he believes his ‘might is right’.

She is both friend and family...I cherish her beyond words...simply put...she is too dear to me to loose...but I don't understand what to do anymore as I've realised that:

Their union cannot still be a blessing because it is based on fear.

I fear one day, in his rage, she will die.

I know, for now, she will not leave him,
I know she endures it for her children.

Good Shepherd, guide and guard her under that shadow of your wing. Please keep her safe.

half

2008-06-15T00:20:00.056+01:00

So I should be getting ready to go to my friend’s (i.e Pelagia) wedding pre-party but I’m mad…mostly at myself…so I’m venting.

I got hustled today…technically it was yesterday but I haven’t slept yet.

Don't understand why they picked me...ok I guess it is quite obvious here that I'm a tourist. Whatever sha...I'm upset because I’m a person that gives readily and I never expect it back. If I’m ever in a similar situation in the future, I hope that this approach will serve me well...I hope I’ll have built up enough credit in the world favour bank to withdraw some kindness and see me through it. In Jesus’ name I pray this will never happen.

Right now it feels like someone found my bank account details and siphoned out my hard earned cash. I don’t get how it happened...correction...I do not understand how I let it happen!

Istanbul is a place were you can barter and I have (or thought I had acquired) some hard-nosed negotiation skills being a Nigerian. Whenever someone tells me the price, a little voice inside my head shouts “half”. I then tell them that that is all I’m willing to pay. I learnt this method early on in my pre-pubescent years because my mother use to love taking me to markets in Lagos and Ilorin. As mummy's little handbag, I became fascinated with the way she always got what seemed to be good deals. The ‘the half technique’ was mine...plus I also thought the skill might prove useful in the event of a divorce…I’d have had enough practice to automatically shout “half” ...lol.

What is still getting to me is how can I be ‘the mark’ for a con artist? Seriously, they should have rules that you cannot cheat an honest person…‘the mark’ is greedy….‘the mark wants something for nothing’. I simply wanted to buy a nice rug for my mother so I'm taking offence to the fact that the fiends decided to exploit this sentiment.

So, I was in a good mood...I had stumbled on the old hippodrome and then I went to a museum called Haghia Sophia (the name means divine wisdom). What stands there now is the 3rd version after the 1st and 2nd structures burnt down. It used to be a church in its two previous lives. In its 3rd incarnation it has been a church, then a mosque and it is now a museum. This basilica is immense…complete and rich with both Christian influences (e.g. mosaics of Mary, Jesus, and Archangel Gabriel) and Islamic & Turkish decorations (e.g. a prayer niche called a mirab placed in the direction of Mecca). I digress…

Anyway, afterwards as I head over to the Blue Mosque, ‘the roper’ approaches me offering helpful suggestions (or so I thought). By pure chance, when the lucky bastard mentions carpets an image of my mother smiling with gratitude pops into my head. She has wanted a new rug in her living room for a long while. All attempts by my father and brothers have failed. She smiles as she accepts the rugs. Then they are laid down to check for suitability but very quickly all the rugs disappear never to be seen again. I’ve always wanted to get her a Persian rug…but they are expensive…so today I thought, this is providence...I’ll get a nice silk Hereke carpet instead.

I follow ‘the roper’ to the shop. There I am introduced to ‘the floater’....there is no ‘inside man’ but there is ‘the fixer’ who will secretly help to manipulate me later with his sleight of hand technique. I see ‘the temptress’ ...her agenda is always to get ‘the mark’ to let down their guard...sultry won't work on me so instead she offers me a small cup of hot apple cider tea...then she smiles knowingly as I accept the drink (which btw is not really tea despite its name).

Something is off...now I'm uncomfortable.

Then I meet ‘the grifter’…king of con...a real confidence man. He starts his sales story and goes on and on...I feign interest until I do actually see one rug that catches my eye. The the pattern is vaguely familiar but I cannot deny that it is a beautifully crafted piece made using unusual colour combinations. In this respect, it is unique. I ask “how much is it?” To his reply I say “half”… he says no...I say thanks for the hot apple cider tea but that is my final offer. After about 30 minutes of haggling we agree on the price....I’ve moved a little sha but I’m still happy at the thought he has had to move a lot. He says I have brought him “siftah”… meaning the fortuitous spirit from the first sale that brings good luck throughout the rest of the day.

I get back to the hotel...I want to know who got the upper hand with this deal...has he cheated me?...most likely but by how much? I check the internet for the price of Hereke silk rugs...I find out that compared with the price I paid, these things are being sold for “HALF”.

I hope very soon these guys come to understand that bad behaviour breeds bad luck.

I better go, I’m really really late.

T5

2008-06-05T00:02:00.059+01:00

5th June…today all British Airways flights between Heathrow and Nigeria move to the dreaded Terminal 5…This post is to mark the occasion.

Will Nigerians suffer the jinx of T5?…I suspect some will fall prey to that place…I have. I don’t fly British Airways to Nigeria because I don’t like wahala…I believe in a stress free life so if anything or anybody tries to compromise that they get cast aside...case in point – British Airways.

I loved British Caledonia when I was younger but when they stopped my family switched to British Airways. About 3 years ago I refused to spend money on the disrespect and the poor service on the London to Lagos BA route so I switched to Virgin Atlantic…no regrets so far.

At this point I have to confess that about 1 month before I travelled I received an invite to join one of those never fly British Airways or boycott flying British Airways groups on facebook. I simply clicked ‘confirm’ without thinking about it twice. If you are Nigerian you will guess why…if not, the antics of ‘brutish airways’ are summarised perfectly in Solomonsydelle's blogs.

At this point I also have to confess to a dual truth…I still tend to use British Airways 2 fly everywhere else.

I think God wanted me to test out this dichotomy…I think I knew inside…somewhere deep down I would fall foul of this one day…such beliefs cannot co-exist in one person.

I’ll start with a song by R Kelly that described how I was feeling when I woke up that day:

‘…I believe I can fly
I believe I can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread my wings and fly away
I believe I can soar
I see me running through that open door …’

I believed I could fly…twice in one day…British Airways did not…the cretins at Terminal 5 slammed the door firmly in my face and then lost my luggage. At that moment my brain scattered…I was confused and tired…but mostly confused.

Rewind back to how my day had started…well…in Ikoyi. Nepa was behaving so the generator hadn’t disturbed my sleep. We thank God o!

I stepped out of bed. I couldn’t walk properly…my feet were on fire…I laughed as a remembered dancing at my aunt’s ‘birthday do’ in 4 inch heels…i love family functions like that...so i thought no long thing. I showered and dressed. I put on a cute pair of hoop earrings. Then packed, had breakfast and said my goodbyes.

I got in the car & gave the driver his ‘dash’…normally I do this at the airport but for some reason that day I gave him the money at the house. I think that the generosity sent Wale into some sort of euphoria. However, his joy started the run of bad luck that stayed with me the whole day.

Forewarning 1 – in an attempt to avoid the morning traffic in oshodi, Wale started diverting left, right and centre…this shortcut and then that shortcut…he would then loose his bearings and take the wrong turns. At one point I realised we were headed back to ikoyi. I lost it then…suffice to say I yelled at him to disengage all the loose wires short circuiting in his brain and follow the directions I gave. I routed us back through oshodi to get to the airport.

Forewarning 2 – My Baba was furious. He was at the airport and he’d been waiting since 7:30am. He needed to hand over some documents to me. It was now 8:15am and I was not there. He called me:

Baba: Where are you?
Shubby Doo: Good morning sir. I’m in the car to the airport
Baba: Where are you? What is your estimated time of arrival?
Shubby Doo: I’m not sure sir…we are stuck in traffic in oshodi
Baba: Why are you behaving like this?…awon uncle and aunty sachs are here already…oshodi ke? Why did you go that way? Kilode…Shubby Doo why are doing this today?

Me ke?

At that point, I tried to cut in to explain. He hung up…ha!!!…not a good sign…not a good sign at all.

My dad is a retired Air force officer and 1 minute late is unacceptable. He kept calling me every 2mins after that but I was too afraid to pick up…I got 14 missed calls from his number. I focused on just getting Wale to the airport…

Forewarning 3 – I faced my Baba’s wrath at the airport…I greeted him and he threatened to go military on me…lol…I laugh now but he did use those exact words…on hearing this, I ducked away, greeted uncle and aunty sachs and went to check in.

Forewarning 4 – When I got to the gate to board my flight I realised I couldn’t find my boarding pass and Nigerian passport in my handbag…my Baba has special privileges...it means he can stroll through most of Murtala Mohammed…so you guessed it…he was there when I discovered I longer had my particulars.

Baba: What is it?
Shubby Doo: I can’t find my nigerian passport and boarding pass
Baba: Not possible
Shubby Doo: I don’t have it. I’ve checked
Baba: Can you use your British Passport?
Shubby Doo: I can’t. It has no Nigerian visa on it. Plus I don’t have my boarding pass

My father just looked at me with contempt. I rushed back to the lounge. I searched…no passport or boarding pass. I returned to where my father was seated.

Baba: Did you find it?
Shubby Doo: No

For some reason I decided to check my laptop bag...thank God...it had my naija passport and boarding pass inside it. At that moment, I swear if looks could kill, the expression on my Baba’s face would have vaporised me.

Baba: You cannot be doing this...ara reo bale! You must always know where everything is kept. You need to be organised. How many times have I told you this? This could have been very embarrassing
Shubby Doo: Sorry sir
Baba: If it is work that is making you confused…

I apologised again, thanked him, disappeared through the gate and boarded my Virgin Atlantic flight to London.

The flight was fine. I called my younger brother to help me check in online for my British Airways connecting flight when I landed. He did. I got my bags within 10mins, said good bye to uncle and aunt sachs and headed for arrivals. I saw my older brother and we raced from T3 to T5.

I got there & started to repack some things into a new smaller case. My phone rang…it was my mother calling from Nigeria.

Shubby Doo: Hello Mãe
Mãe: My dear, how are u?
Shubby Doo: I’m fine Mãe. I got in safe at sound. We are at T5. I’m just repacking…I can’t talk but hold on
Mãe: Shubby Doo…Shubby Doo…wait…just listen…

I didn’t. I passed phone to my brother who explained that I had 10mins left to repack and drop my bags off.

Forewarning 5 – when my brother hung up he told me that my mother had said I was not to check in any of my bags because of the T5 fiasco.

Forewarning 6 – There was something wrong with the handle of the small suitcase so I had to take the bag to ‘oversize’...yes o! against my mother's correct advice, I checked in my small case (with my flat keys, my car keys et al).

Forewarning 7 – My brother told me to go through to the departure lounge straight away. I said I’d rather sit down, relax and jist small. I started telling him about my trip to Lagos.

With 30mins to go, I waved goodbye to my brother headed to security…the guy asked for my boarding pass. I gave it to him. He asked for ID. I handed over my driving license…I was still smiling and humming to myself in my head…yes o! I was humming I believe I can fly! He swiped my boarding pass…I stood there and waited for him to take my picture...to myself i thought strike a pose... lol...he still had not let me through security for my domestic flight...why? I gave him a puzzled look...he simply said “I’m sorry. Your boarding pass is invalid.”

Invalid ke? Not possible.

At the British Airways desk…they told me that I missed the 35mins deadline to get through security. None one told me that. My ticket conditions said check in 60mins prior the flight and baggage drop 45mins prior to the flight. British Airways didn’t care. Apparently they had already off loaded my case too. There was no way I was getting on that flight.

The test had failed...or maybe I had failed the test...

I sighed. I called my colleagues and told them not to come to Manchester airport to pick me up. I wouldn’t be there.

I went down to baggage reclaim to get my case… it was still in the system and they were trying to find it. They couldn’t estimate when I would get it. I was weak...

The guy at the desk felt sorry for me…he kept telephoning people to help…they kept saying they weren’t trained to use the system to check for my case...how?! My blood began to boil...

I needed to be in Manchester for 8am tomorrow. I could catch a coach to my place and then drive. No…I didn’t have my flat or car keys! Any fix to my dilemma needed something I had packed away in the case that was now lost in the system. I should have listened to my Ma’a.

I called my boss and told him I had missed my flight…could I take a hire car?…he said yes but as it was now 8pm I should consider taking a taxi to Manchester instead…I was to find a way to get to Manchester by all means.

At 8:30pm I got a text from my boss saying ‘I hope you are enjoying having the time to inspect T5’s excellent baggage system’…I swear if he wasn’t the company director I would have called him and finished him…

By now tears were welling up in my eyes but I was too tired to cry. I was emotional and cranky. I was about to explode and I needed an outlet for my frustration that wouldn’t land me in jail.

I wanted to call home...‘Home’, when my siblings & I are talking to each other, automatically means our parents place…I moved out right after I graduated and now live just outside London.

But I didn’t call home...my ears started ringing with my father’s foreboding voice from earlier… I don’t do ‘I told you so’ very well.

My brother called me at 9pm...had I landed safe and sound? I said yes...irrational I know but I just couldn't tell him what was going on without breaking down...

At 9:30pm…I gave the guy at the British Airways baggage reclaim desk my work address so that they could deliver my case there…he said it would get there the next day…yeah right!…It actually arrived 2 days later! To keep me calm he started trying to console me…I would get my bag back…a lady yesterday had waited for her bags but she got them back after 3 hours…opari!…my blood pressure started rising again.

At 9:45pm…the British Airways desk at T5 closed and I still didn’t have my luggage.

I called a number of taxi companies… it would be about £450 to get to Manchester…Since I had cleared it with my boss I knew the company were going to pay me back but saying yes meant I would have to get cash out of my account and wait 1 month to be paid back. No way!

At this point I have to thank the guy at the baggage reclaim desk…he had called a taxi firm British Airways use and priced it down to £240…I called the number and booked the taxi. It arrived at 10:45pm.

I called my colleague in manchester...I wanted him to tell the hotel that I was still coming…I didn’t want to get there and find I had nowhere to sleep. Plus I sent him a text with the car registration number of the taxi that had picked me up…if anything happened to me the driver would at least stand trial…if not go to jail. Plus I came right out & told the taxi driver what I’d done and why I had done it lest he got any funny ideas…

I got to the hotel in Manchester at 01:45am.

This is the clincher…with no change of clothes I went to the presentation in the same clothes I’d been wearing the day before…can you imagine?!...I’m a consultant, participating in a whole day presentation with our biggest client...potentially this alliance could bring in 10s of millions (sterling) for us annually...everybody else was looking sharp in their suits but I turn up in low rise blue jeans and a ‘off the shoulder’ white and pink pokerdot top! Oh…the shame!!! I took off the hoop earrings sha!

I called a close family friend of mine to recount this tale to her…this is why I love her to bits:

The Doctor: My sista, welcome back. how now? How was naij?
Shubby Doo: I dey o! That part was fine. It was the journey back. Heathrow T5...
The Doctor: Sounds ominous…what happened?
Shubby Doo: They bounced me...can you imagine?...said I needed to be through security 35mins before my flight. I was 5mins late. They no even give me face
The Doctor: Walai…they did that to me too…I lost over £200 and had buy another ticket to Scotland
Shubby Doo: Kai! Pele my dear but why didn’t you tell me? When?
The Doctor: About 6 weeks ago. Walai talai. I was traumatised by the whole thing. I wanted to start rushing about to see if I could get on the next flight to get to work the next day but then I thought there is no need. No need at all. They will survive without me. Life will go on.

Now why didn’t I think of that?!!

the good kind

2008-06-03T14:53:00.015+01:00

There is this lovely guy at work...in his late twenties …we are part of a group that goes to the same resort for outdoor sports training…I ski or snowboard for about 2 hours but he goes all the way there just for 15minutes in the wind tunnel to perfect his skydiving techniques…“pure madness” I tell him but he simply replies “the good kind.”

I just found out some frightening news about him and I’m floored…

I came in from lunch to an announcement…in my mind I was like ‘what is it again…these execs in my company just like to talk sha’…I was shocked to find out that this guy is in an intensive care unit in Paris…what?!!!...I can’t believe it…he only just took the secondment to go to France.

They say he was in car accident on his way to work this morning. British consulate will only release info to his family. The company are flying his family to see him.

Adam you are in my prayers.

‘…the Spirit of him… who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life …through his Spirit who dwells in you.’ Romans 8:11

Good Shepherd help him to get well

what is on us is from us

2008-06-01T23:05:00.007+01:00

Nasir Khusraw

I’ve started blogging…I never thought I’d do this…I considered it but always thought nah!

About me…I’m not in the music or arts business…I’m not a comedian or literary critic…I read books sha! …all sorts….love books. What else…I’m not in the fashion industry but I have very strong opinions about what works and what doesn’t on me! Don’t do ‘I go die if I no fit wear designer by force’… rubbish …I have my style and I like it.

I won’t pretend that I have something to share that is politically inspiring, profound or vaguely entertaining. I’m just an engineer…I work as a consultant…it pays very well...I remember studying politics when I was much younger…one of the texts we were studying described engineers as ‘barbarians’…so apt!...my teacher and classmates teased me as I was the only one planning on studying engineering in university in that class…somehow the idea has always stuck in my mind!

Whoa!… I digress…I’m typing as I think… you’ll find I do this a lot but I usually come full circle…so back to the initial quote…I’m not a towering oak tree so I am scared that the winds might cause me to falter in this endeavour…why am I doing this?…time will tell. I guess what they say is right… ‘what is on us is from us’…blogsville is upon me…allow me to share that which is from me with you…a little at a time!