Omo, yawa!
Kata kata!
As we don go meet Sheik say make im organise the stupid Mr. Lecturer, e be like say the guy sef get connections. Sheik vex. Awon boys tell am say the guy get sanctuary. The guy get to know. Let's just say that Bola might be retaking the class, except if we go to administration. But to whom do we report? Is it those incompetent extortionists in admin that are out for money or the ones who also keep campus girls as 'girlfriends'. this country sef. the poor girl don tire. she was like, 'sebi it's just one time.' Can u imagine, being forced to contemplate the idea.
So Evelyn took matters into her hands and went to see 'Big Bros' as we like to call him. that's our name for her aristo that is based in abuja and only sends for her when he is in lagos. She told him what was happening to Bola and I do not know what the guy did but last night, when Bola was walking to the hostel after lectures, "those girls" came and accosted and roughed her up a bit, saying that she had made a mistake messing with 'Mr. Lecturer.'
When did lecturers start having connections to cultists. The underworld was the security blanket of students even though to enforce themselves, we the student body had to pay dearly. Besides on OAU campus, they are not that terrible. If you walk right and keep your nose clean, you really have no need to meet them.
I really do not know what is going to happen because i am aware that my name is linked to this issue.
Nitori olorun, ile-iwe ni obi wa ran wa lo ti awon oloriburuku tisha osi fe fi ti won ba ti awon kan je.
God dey! he will vindicate the innocent and I know that Mr. lecturer will surely be punished.

Sometimes i really hate this country. How do you have institutions were students pay through their noses for an education but have neither the facilities nor faculty to provide any at all. I am so fed up. What the hell am I struggling to get an education for when at the end of the day, your survival all boils down to who you know and where they are at the time you know them. I am so tired of these two-faced politicians who stand infront of the cameras and the ignorant and condemn the government for their lack of provision for the Nigeriam youth of today whilst all their children attend school abroad, spending my money and the only times they come to the schools is when they are there to receive honorary doctorate degrees (which is just disgusting as most did not even attend university for a bachelors degree not to talk of a doctorate) or to pick up the young girls who believed that a wealthy older man was going to be their means of survival. It is so easy to cross the boundaries of propriety and allow an older man access to you and yours in exchange for financial provision. ironically, there is no financial security in befriending an older man because he too will be quick to go through as many young things as he can in an attempt to recapture the youthful fantasies they were never able to afford. I hate those men but why would i complain. i do date an older man even thoughhe is not of the same generation as those filthy letchers. those disgusting old men who have no shame in propositioning women for money. i wonder if they are happy. there must come a time when having a woman who will only continue to be with you as long as ypu can furnish her in the lifestyle that you have promised her, begins to take a toll....easpecially if you want to keep it a secret.
Today, i am not just thinking about these men; at least they give the women the choice of opting for that kind of relationship or not. I am thinking now of those shameless, disgusting men who seek to manipulate and force women into things they would not even contemplate doing were it not for the fact that all choice in the matter was taken from them. i am talking sexual blackmail. These bastards!!!
Can you imagine Professor Orunwaye told me that if Bola, my friend wants to pass his bus. admin course, 'i know what to do'. Can you imagine that lizard looking thing threatening her with failure if she does not befriend him. What is this world coming to when men, we were entruted unto by our parents become the very predators they were instructed to protect us from. Have they no shame? No heart? No decency? How do you contemplate sleeping with someone the same age as your daughter. that is to say if they had been playing with mud as children outside the house, you would have been envisioning the other girl as a potential bedmate. That is just disgusting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WELL, I DO KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!
We are going to pay a visit to Sheik.
He is very adept at handling such matters and after this is over we are going to need sanctuary.
I am so tired.
This is school is not worth the hastle and tribulations thrown in our paths.
BUT my father would kill me if I left school.
I still cannot believe this stupid man and I know Bola is not the first girl he has tried to entrap on campus...but she will definitely be his last.
He has messed with the wrong girl.
Or rather should we say, the wrong guy's girlfriend.

Ibinabo is getting on my last nerve. Who does he think he is? Does he think because I go out with him everytime he drops by and he spends a couple thousand now and then, he is lord and master over me? I do not know why i bother with him anyway. So what if he is cute, drives a nice...very nice car, lives in a nice house(note that I said house and not flat) by himself, and knows how to-do-what-he-needs-to-do. I mean, in the to-do department, he holds his own. Built right and knows how to work with his equipment and is quite kinky too. Just like I like it.
..........Back to the subject. HE IS IRRITATING THE HELL OUT OF ME!!!!!!!!
He called me like five times yesterday, but since my phone was dead and my charger had been left behind in school, I could not charge the phone. I sha packed my belongings after stocking up on cash and a morality lecture from pupsie food from mumsie and prayers from Gbadamosi (the miser would have to have his life depend on it before he gives out money and we kids have learned very long ago not to expect him to dole anything out. I mean, his wives had to lock him and threaten to have him miss an 'important' meeting- a party- before he released money for Ayoka and her sibling's school fees. Lousy! Razz Man! and I mean, he is quite razz!), I got in the car with the driver, Mr Peters and headed for school. Dad must have been in a very good mood because for once he listened to my mother's request to let the driver take me to school. 'After all,' she had said, 'You always say, you want to drive yourself and we can go together to Bintu's party and not worry when Peters gets home to his family.' She had been glowing when she had said that and dad had simply nodded as if half asleep. i looked at the two middle aged people. i wonder what they had been up to. I know mum waits for him like a dutiful african wife to come home every two weeks to be with her and us, the kids. i also know that Fatima, dad's second wife and mother of my three half-siblings waits for him to come back to her after out two weeks are up. The day, mum told us when i was about eight, that dad was taking a second wife, a part of me died towards men and has not awoken till today. Many people from other cultures do not know how it is that two women can agree to share one man and how the children appear to be cordial to one another. I do not know either. I have stopped hating my siblings in abuja. it takes too much strength. i have also ceased to acknowledge Fatima's existence ever since dad gave me a near fatal beating for disrespecting her in public. My mum had cried but she had not sided with me. 'If something were to happen to me today, she will take my place...if you hate her, you will not sutvive." she had told me while attending to my bruises. I do not hate fatima. it is my father who is responsible for all that is happening. I see my mother die silently each time he leaves for Abuja, or everytime he and Fatima appear as a couple in the papers. The children are always welcome in our home and to credit both mother and fatima, none of us feel the difference in abode, whether we are in lagos or in abuja. Farida, Hussein and Hassan are all younger than I and are quite adorable. that was why i could never hate them. Most especially Hassan. Farida is sixteen, and the twins are twelve, a few months younger than Sayo. Ayobami is nineteen, Olawale is seventeen and Sayo is thirteen. And my father is the proud father of seven children and husband two wives and only God knows how many mistresses.
Anyway, I get to school and check my messages when i get to school and there is an irate Ibinabo on there demanding to know where I was. Apparently he had driven to Ife from lagos to take me out. I was not there. where was I? He heard i went with some guys out. Where was I?
so I called him.
"Oh boy, wetin?"
"Where have u been?!"
"Why are u shouting? Good afternoon to you too."
He calmed down and asked me nicely where I had been, how I was and what happened. I told him that i had gone home and regaled him with the tale of the loosed-bowelled passenger. He laughed and forgot that he was angry and i felt somewhat sorry for him. I knew that the relationship was drawing to a close. It had been fun but he was trying to get in too deep. I knew that he liked to watch me sleep. I know because i woke up one morning to his unshaven face a few inches from mine staring intently. i had screamed into his face giving a full dose of morning breath but he did not even flinch and a couple of times lately he has been talking about love and me meeting his parents. the ironic thing about this whole issue is that, for a relationship that is structured totally to exclude strings and rarely to result in continuity and for both parties to simpy be consenting adults having a good time, Ibinabo has turned it into something else. he even has me answering 'yes' to the question of whether or not I have a boyfriend and last month, I completely ignored another guy because i was thinking that it would be 'disrespectful' to Ibinabo to even entertain the other guy's advances. What is wrong with me and my head?
First it was Chinedu and now it is Ibinabo.
He said he is going to come for me this weekend. Siggggghhhhhhh!!!!!
He is a good man. And I am being treated well. Do I love him too? I do not know. I must be coming across as very loose or cold or opportunistic or all of the above. I do not know. i have never put too much value on what men say. dad said I was his little princess. apparently that title expires once you reach a certain age because Farida and Sayo have both been his little princesses as well.
I am worn out. I have not studied and I have not studied for my economics test. Prof Ibekwe does not tolerate nonsense.
I need to find someone with handouts from the other lecturer's class coz Ibekwe does not sell them. he is old school. A firm believer in the good future of our dear nation. Poor man, he needs to wake up out of his delusion.

Today, Aunty Femi came to visit with her children. I know we are supposed to be family (she is my mother's sister) but that woman rubs me the wrong way. First, she is a christian and she irritates me with her prayer warrior routines. We are christians too but I know the only reason my father goes to church is because all his 'friends' do too and lately since democracy has been in power. she always looks like shit. excuse my french. It is her belief that to be considered worthy of God's favour, she has to look as ugly as she possibly can. I heard her loss of fashion sense started about four years ago when her husband impregnated some woman outside. i think to save face or her mental health, she turned to the church. That is all good and fine but when she drags her two overweight daughters clad in garments i would not even conjure up as possible to be worn, and come to my house to tell my mother that she is raising me wrong, she can go to hell.
First, she said that my wearing tight jeans was sinful. I looked at her with clear hatred. i do not hide such things. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that with all her praying, Kike, her older daughter has seen and done more things than i ever have. the last time they spent holidays with us, Kike gave me a very vivid description of something that can be done using a vibrator. I simply stared at the girl who was two years younger than I, and still iun secondary school, educating me on such matters. Well, all I can say is that she is very much a pro coz i tried it out with Kunle, my 'boyfriend' and Woooooooooooow!. I bet aunty femi knows none of the things her daughter knows or else Uncle Gbadebo would not have strayed. HEhahahaha
Anyway, she came and stayed and irritated the hell out of everyone. dad cannot stand her either. her daughters looked demure as ever. Kike is as far as I am concerned, demonic. The scariest thing is that she and Sayo, my younger sister are inseperable. I keep telling that little knucklehead to stay away from our cousin but Kike has somehow brainwashed my sisters and bothers. I was once afraid that she had practiced on my brother, Wale. He really gets along with her.
And oh, Gbadamosi was there. he snored through most of my aunt's religious rantings. Soemtimes, i think I actually love that man.
We were seeing them off, me, trying to push them as quickly as possible into the car, when I looked up and saw Chinedu.
Now, how do I talk about Chinedu Ozodia. He is our neighbour's son. he used to live in England before his mum died and he moved back to Nigeria to be with his dad, step-mother and siblings. He attends Unilag and studies Engineering. He drives a BMW 5 series. He is also the guy I messed around with last summer.
The oddest thing about what happened is that neither one of us told anyone. Not even Evelyn, my best friend and partner in crime, knew about us. And when I prodded his friend Marcus, who lives on the next street, to see if Chinedu had said anything, he seemed oblivous. i guess, Chinedu had kept his promise....no one will know.
Did i love him? I do not know. But I was happy with all the moments we snuck around. he took me out a few times to places we were sure none of our friends will be and for my birthday that June, he gave me a jewelry set. You know, matching earrings, necklace and a bracelet. I did not let anyone know. Chinedu is a ladies' man. He is always seen with girls who are made fun of because you hardly ever see the same one with him twice. i did not want to join that list. i had enough gossip going on about me. Most of my friends and our estate's clique know that I have a rich young aristo-ish( he is only 30) guy friend.
Anyway, at that time Chinedu was supposed to have been seeing Ejiro from Sonibare estate. I always wanted to laugh in her face whenever she went on and on about Chinedu. Once, Chinedu and I exchanged careful glances above her head while she practically mauled him in public. We had teased the pair and none of us had been suprised when it was over a few weeks later. I knew that it was hard for Chinedu to stick to one woman for long and I think because I was aware of that and laid no claim to him and pushed no ideas, we survived the summer. then i had to go to back to school.
I think i felt sad when it was over. I wonder what he felt. He greeted my mom and aunty Femi. Kike oggled him through veiled eyes. i just wanted to slap her. he was about to leave. I wished we could speak. That i could speak to him. He drove off at his typical suicidal speed. I tried not to watch him go. I touched my earrings. i wear them all the time.
he asked me to.

So, i came home from school yesterday. Something I really did not want to do but as we say, 'wetin man pikin wan do if e no get money." I was dead broke and I had heard through the grapevine (i.e my younger sister Sayo) that pupsie had arrived from Abuja and so like the dutiful dead-broke daughter i was, i put all my kobo-kobo together and left Ife for Lagos.
The trip was the stuff of nightmares. first, one of the passengers in the five-sitter cab that we took paid for the trip and then disappeared. We had to wait an extra hour just for his sorry ass to show up and then it turned out that he had a running stomach which we did not realise until forty-five minutes into the journey. needless to say, we spent an hour-forty-five minute long journey in almost three hours because we kept stopping for him every few miles so that he could disappear into the bush to take care of himself. The second to the last time, we did not need to be told to stop. the stench of his body releases informed us of the poor man's predicament and accompanied us the rest of the way to lagos. The trip taught me something about myself....I can be a bitch sometimes. I compalined the loudest about the incessant stops and made the most fuss when the man messes himself up. I refused to see his very embarrassed and uncomfortable expression. Others were more accomodating and one of the women gave him something in her bag to chew and it seemed like the mixture of black leaves that she had squeezed into her cellophane bag, worked because he did not have to go to the bathroom till we got to Ojota where he got off. All we had to bear with was the smell. We simply wound the windows all the way down and my magazine, 'Gbefila', one of the latest gossip mags on campus flew out the window.
I guess that was my punishment for being unkind to another.
I was so tired from my trip and looking forward to a nice night's sleep but mumsie had other huge plans. i have this feeling that nothing gets done at home when I am not around. All the ideas for huge meals seem to appear the moment my left foot crosses the doorway. That's when my mother said in her tiny voice, "i think we should make pap." I looked around the kitched for the huge pap bucket where we usually soaked the corn for the pap and I did not see anything. Apparently, what she meant was that i was to wake up at the crack of dawn this morning and accompany Tawa, the housegirl to Tejuosho and buy fresh dry corn to bring home and wash and soak. As well as all the ingredients necessary to cook for two thousand years. For a house where only three people live at any given time, we sure cook a hell lot of food and as the eldest and a female, I have been 'blessed' with the opportunity to help prepare everyone. I do not know why pupsie has to feed everyone that comes to see him. there is one of his friends, Alhaji Gbadamosi that i believe strongly, either does n0t like his wife's cooking or is just to miserly to leave soup money (as i know that his second wife, mama Ayoka does not work) because he is always in my house and eats every square meal. I ams o used to having to cook his food and that of my dad's seperate from the family pot....he is diabetic and pupsie has high blood pressure.
Sha, we watched a movie in the living room upstairs. An american film. Some boring thing on the hallmark channel. there was a scene where the daughter in the movie yelled at her mother and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. My mother had reacted to the scene the same way she always has. She clapped her hands in an up and down movement the way nigerians especially yoruba people did when they were suprised by a situation, tapped her feet in a fast movement on the floor and shook her head.
When we were little and used to live in ibadan, in that old house that belonged to my grandfather, she would look at me and dare me, after seeing scenes such as this where the white children were rude and disrespectful to their parents and threatened to call 911 or child services or something like that, to do the same. She would say aloud as if to no one in particular, when we children knew she was referring to us, that we should indeed try what we have just seen on her and that when she is done with us, we can go and call 'olopa' and then she would hiss in her long, ssssssss-ie way. I would shake my head rapidly to tell her that i was not born with two heads to try and disrespect her, Oluwafunmilola Ajike Fabomilasiri, aya Emmanuel Oladimeji Fabomilasiri; mother of five. In my mind, i would think to myself, 'which phone?'