Thursday, December 27, 2007

Blanket of words, pillows of thoughts

When we met, we met at the restaurant I had picked. She came, braving the blistery winter evening and the possibility of an encounter with a psycho to dine with me in a corner booth of my favourite steak place.

She came dressed in a low cut sweater that hinted at her cleavage like a promise and a skirt that clung to her hips like second skin. When she had turned around upon her arrival, to maneuver herself out of her thick but fitting coat, I had got an eyeful of her derriere and I envied her chair because it enjoyed having that warm thickness pressed up against its face. I tried to focus on our conversation.

We had met blogging. She came on my blog with an attempt to express a difference of opinion which resulted in her insulting my choice of mine. I had tracked back to hers and it was not hard to return the favour. We were too dissimilar and yet the same. She was a gifted writer and she told me I was one too. We became regulars on each other’s blogs. One day, I received an email from her. The body of the email said simply “Hello”. I responded in kind. Two weeks later, we had graduated to a full sentence. We had been playing this game of words for almost a year. She had come to London on business. I invited her to dinner.

I don’t know what I had expected to come out of the meeting. All I knew was that for three hours, I had laughed the hardest I had ever done in all of my thirty-three years; I had listened the longest and tried most unsuccessfully not to stare at her rack. At one point, she offered to detach her bosom and give it to me if it would help me focus. I was glad I was not of a race where my skin would show my blush. I stared even harder.

We talked. We talked and we talked. She made fun of the menu. I had taken her to the swankiest place I knew. She ordered the fish and I watched in near mortification as she instructed the waiter to inform the chef that when her meal was presented, it was his duty to see to it that the food had come in contact with salt, pepper –the hot spick kind and not the one for scents-curry and fire. She got what she asked for. I was surprised but not brave enough to dictate the specifics of my own order. She did not drink and so neither did I.

We talked. We talked and we talked. I tried to explain what I did as an investment banker. I lost her three sentences in. She tried to explain what she did as a designer/ developer. Immediately she opened her mouth, I settled my gaze on her full lips and wondered away. We talked about other blogs we liked and the many scandals, issues and forums that we had been audience to. She told me which bloggers she had met. I had met only about two others and one of them was my cousin whom I had introduced to blogging. She was surprised at that. She told me about the rumours that were circulating on the blogs that I was seeing a certain blogger because on occasion, we exchanged endearments and innuendos. I was subtle but emphatic when I told her I was single.

She broke my heart when she tried not to tell me about the one she was seeing. He liked his private life private and so, she did not say much besides the fact that she was happy. I wished she wasn’t. Then maybe, if I pushed a few buttons….she reminded me without reminding me that she lived across the ocean and that in a few days, she would be on a plane back to the life that was hers…and his. I changed the topic and kept it there by talking about how my job allows me to travel and how often I actually go to the states. She told me that if I came over, they would take me to their favourite spots. I knew she meant her and him but I made my own interpretation to be her and me.

I watched her hands which she used a lot when she spoke, even when she was holding a glass. Her fingers were not slim nor were they chubby. They were just right and one of them carried the weight of huge ring she explained was Venetian glass. I did not care. I was just glad that THE finger was bare. She commented on my watch. She loved it. It was big, like hers. We exchanged watches and I watched with satisfaction as she put mine on and admired her wrist encased in my accessory. I wore hers. She wears men’s watches so I did not look like I had crossed over sexual preferences.

We even talked about family. I found myself, telling her about my father and how I felt about him; my mother whom I did not know, my step mother who had taken her position and was doing it very well, my siblings whom I loved to death especially my sister whom I was planning to shoot for what she did to my car and my God daughter, Vivienne, whom I was raising while her father was in jail and her mother in rehab. I explained Vivienne was at my sister’s for the night. She was impressed and I was glad.

She told me she had been pregnant once. She was too young and could not go through with it. It did not belong to the one she was with. He knew and did not care. I knew and did not care either and I understood. Raising a child is not easy and not something you go into without thought. That’s why Khalil and Tori got on my last nerve with the way they treated Vivienne. I was thinking of filing for adoption. I was more a father to her than anyone else. I expressed this to the woman across the table and she told me to pray about it because if my decision was born out of irritation at Vivienne’s parents and not about the needs of the girl and my love for her, then the idea was not right. I sat there and marveled at their wisdom. I was irritated at Khalil and Tori and I was enthralled by this woman from the world where we use no names and yet can say all.

It was time to go. Our magical night had come to a close. I walked her outside and waited to call a taxi. We talked some more and let about three taxi options that were called up for us go to other people. I asked her where she was staying and she told me. It was too cold and so we bundled ourselves in the next taxi that was called.

The ride to the hotel was in surprising silence. She was exhausted. She rested her head on the window with her body turned away from me. Her hand rested on the seat between us. I sat there in silent dialogue with myself, whether or not to take her fingers in mine. They lay there, just warm and inviting. I knew she would know what holding her hand meant. We were not children and she must have guessed that all night I was reacting to her and headily too.

We arrived. She got out and quickly went to the front to pay. I had handled dinner, she was taking herself home. I got out and signaled for the taxi to wait. We stood in front of the hotel with the bellman watching us to see if he needed to open the door for our entrance. She thanked me for having had fun and promised that she would have a post up about the dinner on her blog and I was to watch out at the onslaught of reactions from others on our circuit. I was known for being notoriously private.

When she leaned in for a hug, I went in for a kiss. I captured her lips deftly and pulled her in with one hand. She did not pull back but she did not return the kiss. Her lips stayed imprisoned against mine but they did not move in response. My kiss was not just a manifestation of where my thoughts had been all evening, it was a question. Her response was the answer. If she had responded, I might have lost control and mauled her on the sidewalk. She did not respond.

Releasing her was wrenching. Her hand came up to wipe away what I assume was the stain of her lipstick. I moved out of her reach, I was keeping this stamp with me if that was all I could have. Her smile was apologetic and my heart ached. Why could I not have her and her loyalty?

We were going to be friends. When I went over on business, she was going to take me around her favourite spots. I was going to take her sightseeing before she returned home. The kiss never happened. The dinner did but the kiss didn’t. And neither did the night spent lost in the sheets of the queen bed in room 3405.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

In the spirit of Chrees-maz

Bomboy: Aunty Catwalq, please tell me a story

Catwalq: (looking up from her computer) ehn?

Bomboy: Please tell me a story

Catwalq:(slightly irritated) what story do you want to hear?

Bomboy: Can you tell me about the birth of Jesus Christ?

Catwalq: ehn? What kind of story is that? I don't know that one. How about Little Red Riding Hood or Shrek or something?

Bomboy: Hmnn....okay

Bomboy's Mother: Catwalq, you don't know the story of the birth of Jesus Christ?

Catwalq: I do...I just don't feel like telling it. Let me tell him another one instead

Bomboy's Mother: Indeed...,sha don't corrupt my son

Catwalq: Haba! Aunty ki le mean? (Aunty, what do you mean?) Look Bomboy, I will tell you the story of Red Riding...nice one and then you go and play your video games okay?

Bomboy: Okay

Catwalq:(taps her chin dramatically) Okay, story story....

Bomboy: Hun?

Catwalq: You are supposed to say 'story' and then I say,'once upon a time' and you say 'time time'...what are they teaching you in school?

Bomboy: I don't know.

Bomboy's Mother: Mo gbe!!!! (I am in trouble) What do you mean that you don't know? All the money I am spending on your school fees!!!!

Catwalq: (chuckles)

Bomboy: No mummy, I know. I was just saying that they not teaching us that.

Catwalq: 'they not'? Aunty, you need to check these people out o

Bomboy Mother: mo ma daran o (I am in trouble)

Bomboy: (sulking) all I am asking for is a story nah

Catwalq: okay, okay, I'll tell you the story. Let's start again. Story story...

Bomboy: Story

Catwalq: Once upon a time...

Bomboy: Time time

Catwalq: There was a little girl called Red Riding Hood. She had seven dwarfs and she lived in a palace with her wicked step mother queen....

Bomboy: Uhm...Aunty

Catwalq: If you interrupt me, I will knock you

Bomboy's Mother: Ma na omo me o, eyin aunty oni storyteller (don't beat my child o, aunty storyteller)

Bomboy: Aunty I don't think that is the story

Catwalq: look here, it is my story. Do you want to hear it or not? Because you are the one that came to me. I am busy. Have work to do

Bomboy: But you are on holiday

Catwalq: You know what? Go and play by yourself

Bomboy's Mother: Agbaya ni e (You are a big-for-nothing bully)

Bomboy: What does that mean?

Catwalq: Be quiet. Who was talking to you? You want your story or not?

Bomboy: Ok. sorry

Catwalq: Now where was I?

Bomboy: The palace queen

Catwalq: Yes, and so she now cooked porridge. But her wicked step mother did not like her so when she cooked the first porridge, the wicked step mother was like 'It's too sweet' and the next one 'It is too salty' and the next one 'It is too peppery'...

Bomboy: Like your food...always too spicy

Catwalq: Ehn? Lenu e (coming from your mouth?)

Bomboy's Mother: (cracking up in the kitchen)

Bomboy: sorry

Catwalq: If you interrupt me again...so the wicked woman went and asked a mirror or a cup- which one, I cannot remember- who was the finest girl in the land and the thing could not lie and told the queen that it was Red Riding Hood. The queen now banished Red Riding Hood out of the palace because she stole...

Bomboy: What did she steal?

Catwalq: The queen's Jimmy Choos.

Bomboy: What are those?

Catwalq: Something you have to buy for your wife when you start working. And she did not steal them, the queen lied on her.

Bomboy: Ok

Catwalq: As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, so the queen now banished her into the woods and then paid a wolf to go and kill her.

Bomboy: A wolf!!! Can they talk?

Catwalq: That's why it's called a fairy tale. Haba! You this boy, you are on another level o. Let me finish my story jare

Bomboy: Sorry

Bomboy's Mother: What kind of storyteller are you that someone cannot ask questions again? Didn't you used to ask questions when you were little? Abi, o ju be e lo ni ( or is what is going on more than it is?)

Catwalq: I did not say he should not ask questions. He should wait until the end when I ask him the moral of the story. Then, he can ask all he wants.

Bomboy's Mother: Oya, Bomboy, you too wait till the end. You and your Aunty are giving me a headache.

Catwalq: ese o Aunty Mi (Thank you o Aunty)

Bomboy's Mother: Iwo agbaya yi (You bully)

Catwalq: so as she was leaving, she took bread and started leaving bread crumbs on the way so she could find her way back at night.

Bomboy: Who did?

Catwalq: So you're not even listening?!!!!!! Oya, leave me if you are not listening to what I am saying

Bomboy: I am listening. But your story is confusing. I want to hear the birth of Jesus Christ

Bomboy's Mother: Leave your Aunty. When I finish what I am doing, I will tell you what you want to hear. I mean, how can we say we have an Aunty at home that cannot do one small thing. Or maybe she does not even know the story and she is pretending...

Catwalq: (exasperated sigh) The heavens are against me today. The devil is a liar. Oya, if you want to hear the story of Jesus. I will tell you but if you interrupt me even once, it is over.

Bomboy: Yeeeeee

Catwalq: Once upon a time, there was...

Bomboy: Time time...ooops. You said I should say

Catwalq: Mssstsssthw! There was a young lady called Mary of Jerusalem. She was sitting in front of her house peeling corn.

Bomboy: What was she going to use the corn for?

Catwalq: To make pap in the morning. What did I say about interrupting? So she was there doing her corn jeje-ly and rora-ly when one angel appeared to her and was like 'Boo'. So she jumped and was like "Aaaah". The angel then told her that she should not be afraid that she was going to get pregnant and have the son of God. Mary was like "What kind of nonsense prophecy is that? I don't even have a boyfriend."
The angel told her not to worry, that Joseph was going to be her husband. Mary was like "Eugh, that yeye carpenter?". And the angel was like yes. And because Mary was scared out of her jeans, she said ok so that the angel could quickly go and she could finish her corn before her mother came back from Canaan where she went shopping. That's where the Giant and Safeway of their day was.

So like that, like that, she became pregnant and she had to tell Joseph now. And Joseph was now like "Are you crazy? Who do you think is responsible?" Which was true as they had never been like boyfriend and girlfriend. That is why we say wait till after you are married to have a girlfriend, who will be your wife. Do you understand what I am saying?

Bomboy: Not really

Catwalq: That's no problem. So sha Joseph left her and she was crying and the angel came back and was like "boo" and Mary was like "leave me alone joo. I went and told Joseph that I am pregnant and he denied me. Me myself, I don't even know where the child is coming from." The angel now told her not to worry and paid Joseph a visit. I can't remember what he told Joseph but that very night the carpenter went and married Mary. I am guessing the angel said more than "boo" and freaked the poor guy out.
So sha, they were married and then there was the king in Egypt who had a vision that if Jesus was born that he would become the king of the Isrealites or I think the descendants of Moses...anyways, this guy went unhinged...

Bomboy: What's that?

Catwalq: (makes a imitation of lunacy and boy laughs) so the king, Herod was his name now ordered that all the soldiers go out and find the baby. They went all over Rome and Egypt and what is now today's Iran and Turkey.

Bomboy's Mother: I don't know what is more alarming, your version or the fact that you might have told this story in public before. Where did you get this story from?

Catwalq: Me, I am sorry o. What kind of request is it to tell the story of the birth of Jesus Christ? What happened to good old 'Eze goes to school' or 'Koku Baboni"? I am doing the best I can. I have not even got to the point where Joseph had to part the red sea to escape the soldiers.

Bomboy's Mother: Bomboy! Get up from there now before your Aunty puts me in more trouble than I am already in.

Bomboy: But I like this story. I have to tell it to my classmates when I get back to school. Mrs. Hounding told us to research the story and come and tell it in school.

Bomboy's Mother: Catwalq, you are in trouble.

Catwalq: What did I do?

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Oh la la

It is a sitting room.
The furnishings are modern, tasteful and expensive.
The walls are painted a warm green.
The brown accessories add to the feeling of an embracing calm.
On the love seat, she sits.
Her legs are crossed one over the other. The smooth skin of her legs are illuminated beneath the glow of the floor lamp that is the only light in the room.
Her hand cradles her chin and is held up by an elbow that sinks into the arm of the chair.
Her bosom rises and falls, the smooth globes of her breasts bursting against the fabric of her low cut blouse.
Her braids have been swept away from her face and so her eyes are exposed.
They are very sad but they are dry.
This is suprising because clearly someone in the room is crying.
It is not her.
It is him.
He sits on the other side of the room, on the edge of the middle seat of the sofa.
His head is bowed, his tears hidden to fall silently on the fabric of the dark grey coat that he holds limply in his hands.
He does not make a sound but even the silence knows that he weeps.
He weeps for him.
He weeps for her.
He weeps for the unborn child he would never know.
He knows why that child will never call him father.
He knows that once she rises from that chair, she will go up to her room, pack her things and be gone
He weeps because she does not weep
And he knows that it is because she has wept the last tear she will ever weep
And that means there is nothing more he can say.
She had warned, hadn't she?
They had warned, hadn't they?
You will look up one day and all you take for granted will not be there, they had all said
He had listened but too late
He had lost it all.
"Please." he tries to beg
She does not respond. She unfolds her limbs with her grace that amazes him still.
She leans forward and on the coffee table places two gleaming pieces of gold.
They are her engagement ring and wedding ring.
She gets up and walks away.
Her movement is like that of a swan.
She glides up the stairs and disappears at the top of it down the hallway to their rooms.
He is left with the demons that are his thoughts.
He thinks of what he has to do to make her stay.
She will not come back
He should let her go.
He owes her that much.
All he has put her through.
The humiliation.
The embarassment
And the loss of a child.
If he had been there, maybe he could have saved the life of their child.
He did not know that Selena would come and challenge Belema.
That there would be a tussle and that Belema would fall and miscarry.
He thinks of why he strayed in the first place
And the second and third and all the others
Selena was just the last straw
Even his friends backed off when that affair started.
Her father could destroy him and the business.
As it stood, he was going to.
Selena had been buried according to the Muslim Rites that morning.
Her suicide and letter was all over the news.
Belema just came from the hospital to get her things.
It was over
It was all over
She comes down the stairs. She is holding an envelope
It contains documents of property she owned before the marriage.
She had listened to his request that she not work while they were married.
She had stayed home.
And received one story after the other.
She walks past him and picks up her bag.
"Cherie," she calls him. She speaks french.
Boarding school in Switzerland can help ensure that.
He went to government college in Osun state.
He looks up. The despair the sight of her brings is painful.
He can barely focus.
"My lawyers will contact you in a bit. I don't want anything. When you receive the documents, sign and it will all be over."
He shakes his head.
"Belema...I am sorry."
She chuckles. It is without mirth. It is cold and cruel.
It makes him shiver inside.
"Don't kid yourself," with her accent 'kid' comes out as 'keed'. "That stupid girl did not kill my baby."
He blinks.
"I am not raising a child by myself. And I want nothing to do with you...nothing to remind me of you.So, I got rid of it."
He stares.
"Now, you and I can start afresh. You, with whatever nonsense brings herself your way and I with someone more deserving of me."
His eyes grow hard.
She waves and walks out.
She does not slam the door but the sound of it shutting echoes through his head.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Recuperating

Please o, people like Jaybabe threatening to hurt someone...me i did not send una message o.
I am recovering from exams.I am on a steady diet of sleep and nothing else for a while. I will be good to go in a day or two.
What have I missed?

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Anti-Corruption Day

When I received the email highlighting this day and inviting a blogged response, I thought this post will take five minutes. I mean, what are fifty words but two sentences? How long will it take me to come up with a post to my country and the rest of the world about eradicating corruption?
This is the fourth draft of this post. You can see my dilemma.

I have decided to share some of the creeds that I live by. The principles that I have adopted and struggle to implement so that I too, don't become corrupt.

1. Do not encroach on people and their property. And do not allow them to do the same to you: If I am conscious that my actions not affect others and theirs, then I will be less likely to partake or indulge in something that violates the freedoms of others. Corruption does that.

2. Do all you have agreed to do: If I stand before you and say that I will serve you in some way, then I will. Politicians spout whatever will get them votes or even nothing at all, attain high positions and completely forget their promise to the society to serve. It is a matter of how strong your word is. My parents don't have millions but when they give me their word, they bend over backwards to fulfill it.

3. Every thought, word or action either pollutes you or purifies you: I choose to purified. So, I will not think ill, say ill or do ill to another person. That alone ensures that I am not corrupt.

4. Be responsible for your actions: I am not of the faith where there is salvation upon calling somebody's name; a technique that some people have taken it to mean that they can do whatever they like and then after, they just erase it with some mumbled words. I pay for every action and so does every body else. If you imagine that you can get away with something because the human justice does not get you, best be assured that spiritual justice is very fair and unbiased and that as Soul, you are going to enjoy in exact amounts the returns on any and everything you do. If not in this lifetime, then in another.

5. Be clean: Body, mind and deed. In the words of Kpakpando, KPOM!!!

6. Be grateful: I could have had it worse.

7. Do all things in the name of God: I don't think God will encourage you to take what He did not give to you, so don't even think to steal in the name of God.

8. Be careful what you say: A corrupt tongue will say corrupt things. And we all know the power of the spoken word. If, according to a majority faith, God said "Let there be Light" and there was light, does it not make sense that as his offspring, we can manifest or eradicate corruption with our words.

9. Be disciplined: Do the right thing at the right time and for the right reason

10. It's a matter of choice: Choose not to be corrupt.

You might ask why I have not listed social policies. I can't think of any that do not involve people who have to make the choice to implement them. To implement policies against corruption, you have to be someone who isn't. Thus I am starting with myself and hopefully others are to.
If we all did the right thing, do you think we would need an anti-corruption day? I think not

Friday, December 07, 2007

DO YOUR BIT FOR NAIJA...NIGERIAN LIGHTHOUSE INITIATIVE

Dear friends:

December 9th is UN International Anti-Corruption Day and Nigerian Lighthouse seeks to commemorate this day with a small but pertinent project.

The goal is to get as many people to write a 50 word (or less) message on how to eradicate corruption in Nigeria. All submitted messages will be posted at the website - nigerianlighthouse.org .

Most Nigerians have an opinion on how to stop corruption. Here is a chance to share that idea with the world! So, simply write a message of 50 (or less) words and send it to NigerianLighthouse@gmail.com. Then send another message to your friends encouraging them to participate as well. This will only take 5 minutes of your time and the rewards - sharing ideas that will definitely improve Nigeria - is more than worth it.

Hope to hear from you all!

Nigerian Lighthouse Team

PS: To learn more about the origins of International Anti-Corruption day, please visit the United Nations page at http://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/about-unodc/9-December.html

You can post your response as comments and I will get the information to them. Thank you for speaking out!!!!

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Letters to Moi...by popular demand

Below are questions that were posed to Ms Catwalq and she has dutifully answered

UnNaked Soul said...

Is catwalq a figment of my imagination?: Depends on what you have been drinking.

Is she an alien?: Her passport from venus says citizen...if that is what you are asking.

How did you get the name "Bani-Baraje" and what does it mean? Bani-Baraje is a combination of Bani Productions and Baraje Couture...,the name of one of the other blogs that you ought to be reading. Bikonu

when is the sex part of CATWALQ ACADEMIE going to start? abi are the cast asexual?: You do realise that these students are in JSS 3? Abi, which kind of peadophillic mentality are you fostering here?tsk, tsk tsk....*clears throat* wait and see, may be there will be something soon.

1:53 AM

princesa said...

lol@unnaked! Rotten guy!!!

Catty my question is:
What is the rationale behind your cast choices? The original installments were of bloggers that I enjoyed and some that I did not quite understand.
I mean why would you cast princesa as just mumbling "yes", "Hmmm" and and cast kpakpando as the mischievous/naughty one.: Lol!!!

I need some action role abeg!: What EXACTLY do you want to do? Don't worry, the xmas show is coming up

2:41 AM

UnNaked Soul said...

since princesa wants an action role, can u star us in a coded zone scene, doing you-know-what... :-D: Unnaked, step away from your pee-pee. Keep your hands above your head

abi how u check am princesa? it will be fun I promise u...: Princessa dear, ignore him.

2:51 AM

Teediva said...

have u ever caught teediva and any of the senior boys in a err...compromising postion, seeing as she's so naughty? *lol* : well, she was recently spotted exiting from a science lab, dishevelled and harried. A few seconds later, guess who stepped out...?

7:28 AM

Atutupoyoyo said...

Madam Catwalq is it true that you faked your certificates from The Universal Institute of Joblessness and Laziness? The institute has never heard of you.: Erm, erm, I do not know what you are talking about. Next question please

Is Baraje pronounced BA-RA-JEH or BA-RAHJ?: Ba-ra-jeh. With the "jeh" having the e from "eggs" and not an "a"

Do rumours of several affairs with some UnNamed cast members have any foundation?: I thought we agreed to keep it between us, ehn Atutu? ....

How does a girl like you end up being a girl like you?: Men, that is another blog all together. You have to be born in Benin, grow up on a daily dose of books and an over protective mother, serious inferiority complex hidden by a creative mind, loneliness, overcoming near paralysis and discovering the joys of physical release. Or you can just take the short cut and smoke something.

Are you already starting to regret the promise you made to answer all these questions?: Nope, bring it on!!!!

7:40 AM

Allied said...

Is it true that you will be the first to direct a bollywood Catwalq Academie with an all Nigerian cast?: I guess....why do you think the film version will be in Hindi?

8:41 AM


Olamild said...

Na wa o

I heard that The Universal Institute of Joblessness and Laziness is very proud to have you as its first graduate, na lie abi truth? : I am their most famous graduate

Some of your fans said Your name catwalq means you like to walk like a cat and they want to ask.....Do you like cats?: I don't like any animals that I cannot eat or have tattooed on me

12:07 PM

gishungwa said...

The comments have done it for me.
Cast me pretty please with a cherry on top: Send in your application to Catwalqb@gmail.com. What was your score in Common Entrance?


laspapi said...

Do you have a director's couch? Do you make use of it?: Mr. Laspapi, you have been avoiding the summons I have given you to come to my office "after school". When you come, I will answer all your questions...and more *wink*

Could you answer Atutupoyoyo's "Do rumours of several affairs with some UnNamed cast members have any foundation?": Mr. Laspapi....after school, all your needs and concerns will be addressed.....

11:07 PM

Jaybabe said...

Ehen..in that script you gave to me, where i act against Eddiie, i don't understand, shud i be on top or Eddiie shud be on top? Coz when i read, the guidelines are written back to forth. Were you lazy or that is what we are supposed to do?: I am sorry,...what?!!!!


simplynuttie said...

Universal school of joblessness and laziness alone?: I did not get admission elsewhere

What kind of degree would you end up with after graduating or your school is for a lifetime?: I am not even sure. I think I will just be a housewife. The senate is already filled up with people with the same credentials....


exschoolnerd said...

do u sometimes get inspiration on what to write in the toilet doing a number 2? Yes...especially after taking Ketrax or expired Andrew Liver Salts...


Carlang said...

Nice post dear.
Glad to know i'm not the only one who suffers occasional mentalblocks.
Still..
You've got talent dear.
it's probably one of the reasons why i like you.

What's that?
WHat are the other reasons?
Damn it. Here comes the mental block again....: Carlang, sweetie, come and sit on my lap. Tell me what the problem is...ehn, come here

4:52 AM

N.I.M.M.O said...

After answering all the other questions, answer this:

'Is there anything else about Catwalq that we need to know?': Depends, do you have all your questions answered?

Nimmo

8:05 AM


Rayo said...

Can you explain to these people what "shaking plastic" is...hehehehehehe lololol!!!

*ehm...* sorry, lack of sleep.: Ashewo. "Shaking Plastic" is your plastic covered, battery operated companion...when the oga is out of town....

2:42 PM


Teediva said...

erm, and catwalq, is lagba-jess meant to mean a female lagbaja...or am i just tied up? and when do we get more gist about ur ashawo..er strike that out..courtesan madame?: It was Yosh that nicknamed me Lagbajess and he has let me o. he has left me. Leave my oga alone...and how do u know that she exists?


Queen of My Castle said...

LMAO!!! These comments are hilarious. If anyone can put a spark back under the once dimming World of Blogville, it's Ms. Cawalq.: Why, thank you

Question: How does it feel to be pursued by so many men of Blogville?: If it were only true....

10:05 AM

Jinta said...

Which aspects of the show got us hooked when we jumped to the 5th episode?: Haba, uncle, you did not read the series? there was the mango tree climbing episode, noisemakers list, the time I was ill and the cast came to see me, the Ghana-must-go incident and the n when anonymous gave the class something to drink....

10:14 AM

Phew!!!

UPDATE: The fire alarm is ringing in my building right now. Me, I am not getting up from my laptop. People ask me why?
People: Catwalq why?
Ans: 1. did the fire not realise that it is snowing outside? abi, what kind of oloriburuku type fire wants to be burning at 12.15 am? And if it is a fire drill, mo sorry gan, but my yansh is not stepping outside unless I smell the smoke. And when I say smoke, I don't mean the gaseous by products of these American students trying to burn...sorry, cook chicken. Come to think of it, where is my Naija pali? And my I-20?
2. I have a project due and I am not yet done. The fire is going to have to come and drag my yansh from this chair right about now...nonsense!!!
Then, I realised that I can hear no voices in the hall way. So, it's either there is no fire or you guys are going to be reading about a bunch of roasted students in DC.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

CATWALQ ACADEMIE (BEHIND THE SCENES)

I was sitting at my laptop, thinking of what to talk about in today's post. After erasing my eight draft, I went to my saved drafts and found this piece, I started months ago and discarded...


PinkPeke Productions: Welcome to another episode of DIS BLOGGERS SEF. Today, we are going to visit with Ms Catwalq Bani-Baraje, the creator and executive producer of the "world famous" Catwalq Academie Series. Ms Catwalq, welcome to the show.


Catwalq: Thank you very much. It's a pleasure to be here.


PP P: So, we are five episodes in and the entire country is hooked...


Catwalq: I am just as surprised. We have been getting THOUSANDS of comments and MILLIONS of letters of hopefuls asking to be cast in the series.


PP P: Wow...yeah, cos we are fans too. Where did you get the inspiration for it?


Catwalq: well, i have a professional degree in fantasizing.With a concentration in creativity


PP P: From where?


Catwalq: The Universal Institute of Joblessness and Laziness.


PP P: How long did it take you to put together the cast and crew.


Catwalq: not too long. I am the writer, director, producer, make up artist, sound editor, cinematographer...in short the entire crew. There is a local grammar school by my house. I just sit outside and watch them pass.


I never quite got to finish it, so I am asking you to submit your questions for Catwalq and she will answer in her end of year, profile of her self. Conceited? Perhaps...but it is the easiest way to come up with a post.
So, send in your questions. They can be about anything and I will answer them in my next post.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Memoirs of the V spot III

Before you start, I will like to invite you to check this out. To the women, feel free to share your stories about that part of your anatomy that brings us joy, pain, confusion and comfort. And to the men, feel free to analyse that which your pursuit of defines your life's decisions.

Thank you for coming out to meet with me

Well, you sounded like it was very important to you that I did and so I am here

Thank you. It means alot to me and my girls that you are here

You're welcome. I still do not see what I am doing here.

I wanted to speak to you woman to woman.

Yes...?

I wanted to look into your eyes when I did that

Ok...?

I wanted to look into your eyes because I knew for some reason that they will not lie to me

......

I want to know why you will not leave my husband for me. Why you will not leave the father of my children and allow our family to be in peace. Why you don't think that a woman as beautiful as you or as intelligent and accomplished must take what does not belong to you...

*bursts into laughter* Oh my goodness....this is just too funny...you think he belongs to you? If he did, then why are you here?

I came to meet with you because not only did I want an explanation from you, I also wanted to beg you to leave him for me. Leave my husband alone.

*still laughing* Oh my God, this is the funniest thing I have heard all day. Can I just ask you what you do for a living?

I am sorry?

If we are talking woman to woman, may I ask you what you do with yourself all day?

I am a housewife. I would assume that you knew that.

I don't have to know anything about you. You are of no importance to me. My point is, if you had something better with your time, you will not have tracked me down- not that I was hiding- and made all the hulla-balloo about you needing to meet with you

I did not come here to fight with you

Really? Maybe my English is poor because just a minute ago you implied that I was desperate and deviant, bent on making you unhappy since I could not find some of my own.

I did...

For your information, your husband and I are no longer together. It ended more than two months ago. So, you either need to step up your investigating skills or start them again

What do you mean? I followed you...I checked his...

*shakes head* What for? What did you think you were going to get out of this? This conversation that you have expended nights and days on, planning what you will say, how you will confront me...did you plan the same for your husband? Because if you did not, then what do you think a talk with me will do?

I....

Eyiwunmi...that is your name right? Why are you here? Think about your answer before you give it

I want to save my marriage

Why?

What do you mean "why"? Do you know what commitment is? Do you know what I have been through? Do you know about my children, what they have been through? Do you know how many years we have been married...?

How many years?

Seventeen...you cannot...

And you are here confronting your husband's ex lover for his infidelities instead of the culprit himself.

Have you no shame? Why would you go with another woman's man?

Because he belongs to no one but himself.

What?

That man that you are running all over town for, greying your hair prematurely for, loves no one but himself. Do you think he loves you? Do you think he loved me or loves any of the others? And don't even look at me like you think I am the only one. You must have known for seventeen years that his dick does not dip into just one hole

I beg your...

Please!!! don't insult me with your feigned propriety. You and I both know that that man is useless. You know why it was over? In over ten years that I have lost my virginity, I have never contracted anything. I slept with that useless waste of oxygen...

that's my husband you are talking about

Uh...mumu. That idiot gave me the clap. Are you going to tell me that he has never given you anything? If so, then he has not been to you in a long, long, loooooooooooooooooooooooooong time and if that is the case, you know that he defintely does not belong to you

You are very rude...I did not come here to fight you

Look, since you said that you wanted to talk to me woman to woman, then I will talk to you woman to woman. I returned the advances of your husband because plain and simple, he offered them. I am thirty eight. I am not married and have never been. I run my own business and you know that I am not doing badly. Whilst this is no excuse, how many single men do you know that want to be with me. Men out there are either too old, married or both. And the younger ones want someone to upgrade them so they can chase after women their age or younger. I have needs. I too want companionship. I want affection. A connection. Dotun offered it to me, albeit in the position of a second wife and I was like, what the heck? What else do I have to loose? Society has written me off for being successful and single and childless. Men are intimidated by me. Maybe I will get some attention a couple of times a year...I mean, that beats nothing at all

Look at the way you're talking. Are you listening to yourself? Do you believe the words that are coming out of your mouth?


What do you mean, do I believe what I am saying? Where do you want me to start from at thirty-eight? Or how different do you think you are from me when you are running around town accosting your husband's mistresses because you are afraid to confront him on his betrayals and/or walk away from the pain of them. I itched for three weeks and I had had it. You must have been itching for seventeen plus years and you sit here and judge me for being desperate.*laughs* are you looking at yourself?

I love my husband

Nobody said you should not love him. Question is, does he love you? Or even , are you in love with your husband or the idea of a husband?

This is not going the way I planned. This has been a waste of time

Has it? Pray tell, what did you expect? Did my agreeing to meet with you not indicate that it would not go as you expected. I can just see you now, puffed up in your righteousness, ready for battle. Probably, those careening fools you walked in, who are just itching to leave their table and bring their aproko legs here, are your back up amunition; in the event of a fight. I came alone and I will leave alone. It has been that way for years. I have been alone because I have refused continously to compromise my standards. I am not asking for too much to be loved and respected. For my body to be regarded seperately from my brain and not as a suntitute for it. For my work to be respected. For a child not to be the stamp of my womanhood. For a life in my own right.


Then why would you destroy my life? It was not perfect but it was mine. You mock my husband now that you have discarded him or he discarded you; whichever one is the truth, I am not concerned. But he is all I have. You chose your career and now you are lonely and sleeping with other people's husbands


And you chose marriage and family and you are here in a restaurant arguing with your husband's mistress. I am not sure I see how your life is better. My point is, I have walked away from your husband and my temporary lapse in judgement. I have my work and great friends to fall back on. I pray that in my lifetime, I find someone to love me. I am a good person and I have tried to do good in my life. But I am human and I have a human woman's needs.

*pauses...in thought* I do not know what to say

I will say that I am sorry. I am sorry that you have been hurt by my actions. I am just like you, trying to find my happiness in anyway possible. I looked through the wrong door and saw someone else's life and thought it could be mine. I am sorry. But I am not the only one responsible and no longer responsible

I know you are not

Then why did you come to me?

Because you are the only one to have walked away from him.

*sits back, hand on chin* And you thought I would show you how to do the same?

Maybe. I am confused. And tired.

Today is so much more interesting than I imagined. How many others have you met?

You are the only one

Why do you stay?

He always comes back to me. And he never really leaves. He is there in the morning when I wake up. His daughters have never had to ask me where their father is. He is loving and caring towards me and when he comes to my bed, it is like he sees only me. That he loves only me. Why am I not enough for him?

Because there are some dumb heiffers out there like me who will give to him what he should not have

Yes. No offence

None taken

I don't know why stay. It's like my medication to treat the after effects of his betrayals. I take them because I feel I don't have a choice

That cannot be healthy for you. Contracting diseases like that.

I miscarried five years ago. I did not even know that I was pregnant. I had an infection and lost the baby.

I am so sorry

It was not your fault. You see why, it is so hard for me to walk away? When I think of all I have sacrificed for this man?

Did he ask you to?

What...?"

Did he ask you to sacrifice for him?

It's what wives do.

Then I guess that's one of the reasons I am not married

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

A note of Thanks

All over blogville, posts have being going up in gratitude all month long. I have been tagged, in my opinion not to join the band wagon but to remind me to take a look at life and at the things that I should be thankful for.

I am thankful I am alive. Many aren't. Some wish they weren't. Some aren't going to be for much longer. I am here and fine. I am grateful for that

I am thankful that I have the HU. And that with It, I will always know what to do. And even though I might make a stupid decision from which it might appear there is no redemption, this prayer will always ensure that the will of God is done in my life...even if it means that I have to dance to my own music

I am thankful for my family. They have been so strong through alot of drama. They have stood by me and have celebrated any and all accomplishments, down played all faux pas and shared love and gratitude with me.

I am thankful that falling in love is no longer a mystery. It has been simplified, terrifying but also welcome.

I am thankful for the gift of time. It sometimes is killing when it means I have to wait but it also means it gives space to grow, to learn more

I am thankful for the gift of words. We throw them around on blogville and in our day to day loves, sometimes carelessly, but they are powerful and beautiful.

I am thankful for music. The songs that make me smile and remember that I am Soul, a spark of the most divine

I am thankful for carbohydrates which though lodge in my thighs, give me comfort

I am thankful for dreams. Imagine if you had none, what would you look forward to in life?

I am thankful for being born in a time and in a home where there was no war or suffering. I am thankful that I don't have to experience either. I am also thankful that I am aware of their effects so that I may live a life in service to others so that neither happens as a result of my actions

I am thankful for Youtube, Facebook and Gmail.

I am thankful for Current TV

I am thankful for my laptop who has been though so much and still keeps running

I am thankful for the gift of film

I am thankful for sex...good sex

I am thankful for my health.

I am thankful for my voice

I am thankful for the knowledge that the worst has past and the best is beginning its arrival

I am thankful for my life

I am thankful

Monday, November 19, 2007

Memoirs of the V Spot II

Before you start, I will like to invite you to check this out. To the women, feel free to share your stories about that part of your anatomy that brings us joy, pain, confusion and comfort. And to the men, feel free to analyse that which your pursuit of defines your life's decisions.

Young girl, wetin be your name

Alice

Wetin you dey do here?

Na my tisha bring me come. make dokita helep me make I no dey be like this again

Wetin dey do you?

I no know...I dey piss. I dey hol am, i dey hol am. e no gree. na im make dem say make I comot for house. say i dey smell.

When the doctor talk say im go do your operation?

im talk say tomorrow

When you recuperate, wetin you wan do?

I no sabi dat one

when you recover, wetin you wan do? when u no be like this again, u wan go your papa house?

*shakes head *I no too wan make tomorrow come. but the smell dey worry me. so make e come but i no wan go my papa house.

why?

my papa say make i no come im house. say na me make Okpidingo vex come dirty our house.

what is...wetin be Okpidingo?

na spirit. e vex say i bad so e collect my pikin . Na im collect my pikin

U get pikin?

*shakes head*

wey the pikin

e dies

I am sorry

nooo, e no big. so e dies

Wey the papa? the pikin papa?

E dey house?

Na im bring you come here?

No...na my tisha. my tisha come carry me for road where I dey sleep, na im bring me here

So your husband chase you comot for house and your papa chase you comot for house?

Yes

Wey your mama?

e dies...many long away . na she get de shop wey she dey take pay my school money. when she die...money no dey. my papa e don dey sick tey tey.

How old are you?

Thahtin.

i see...

ehn?

I understand

Ok...u hav sweet?

No, I am sorry.

All de oda womens dey bring sweet and biscuit come. Dis dress sef, na dem give me

Oh, that's nice.

After tomorrow, i go wash am well well. e no smell again. wheesh womens are you?

ehn?

wheesh womens are you? u no oyinbo and the womens wey come before, dey no stay long. dem take pigsho, dem comot. some of dem dey follow us talk but some dem come look us and dem comot. dem no see my garden. u wan see my garden?

U get garden?

Yes, I get aibeesgos. i get one yellow one. i don forget im name but i get aibeesgos. na there i dey do my assignments

u have assignments?

i dey go school. dem get school here. my tisha and im wife say make i come dia ouse when i comot. na im wife make my hair. e fine, no?

very beautiful. u r a very beautiful girl.

Tomorrow. after dokita. i fine better better. i clean. i no smell. i no dirty again.

You were never dirty, my sister.

ehn?

Yes.

Ok. Come make I show you my garden. the aunty for keeshin ave some mango. i gi you one.

Thank you

Wetin be ya name

Dolapo

My name na Alice

I know

You be my friend?

Yes. I am your friend. I am your sister.

Okay, next time , you bring sweet come. ok and i keep mango for you

Deal

ehn

Yes.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Memoirs of the V spot

Before you start, I will like to invite you to check this out. To the women, feel free to share your stories about that part of your anatomy that brings us joy, pain, confusion and comfort. And to the men, feel free to analyse that which your pursuit of defines your life's decisions.

Dear Sir and Ma,
By the time this letter reaches you, my wife and I will be on our way out of the country. To a place that I shall not tell anyone because we both need to get away for a while. She needs to get away and I am going to take her somewhere I know she will feel safe and try to be happy.
The intervention worked. After I spoke with Ma, I called the one other woman whose opinions I value and took her advice. I went home, took my wife into a room and locked us both in there; refusing to let neither her nor me out until we had figured out our problem. Or at least until I had found out if the problem was my fault or hers. It's not hers and it is not mine.
The past seven hours have been the most excruciatingly painful of my life. I had to ignore my wife's tears and pleading as I too wept and pleaded with her. What was the problem? It is not natural, what is going on; I told her. Something is wrong and I just have to know. How, I asked of her, do I tell the world that my wife of eight months will not allow me to touch her, freezes when I do to the point where the last time we tried being intimate, she blacked out. Something was wrong. I did not know what it was and I was angry that I had never seen it.
Maybe I should have been more suspect about how distant she was the first time I saw her. I took her silence and refusal to meet my gaze or shake my hand to mean that she was shy and reserved. I took her refusal to let me hold her in public to mean that she did not trust herself with me and decided to wait till our marriage to show her the physical side of our connection. I imagined that her near extreme lack of experience was because your upbringing of her had been strict. Her silences meant she was thoughtful. The trembling in her form when I held her equated for me, her suppressed desires.
`You don't know my confusion the first time we were together. I tried to ask her but I did not know how to because she looked so afraid that I too became afraid. I came to you Ma, because I felt as her confidante, you might be able to shed light on your own child...help me understand my wife. I realised I had married a child. Yes, she can cook any woman out of her home and shame disinfectant with her cleanliness.
That's another thing. The cleanliness. Anytime I came close to her, she would rise in the middle of the night to scrub herself so hard that there were red splotches on her neck and arms. I thought she was being clean but I later realised she was trying to get me off her. Why? Was I filthy? I too started bathing before coming to bed. There was no change to her reaction. I did not know what to do. She was not happy because I was not happy and I was not happy because she was not happy.
It was after our conversation that I realised that something terrible had gone wrong. In fact, I was almost sure what exactly it was. What I was horrified to find out was whom and for how long.
So, I am taking my woman away from here. Somewhere where together we can try to help her find her way from the nine year old she was before you Sir, came and destroyed her innocence. I did not come to you because if I had, I would not be on my way to a distant land but on my way to prison for having skewered you.
And as for you Ma, sitting back while the animal you call a husband defiles your daughter continuously. I was told that she had been a bubbly and lively child and that suddenly she stopped talking and when she resumed, it was in sporadic and short sentences. I guess she felt that no one would hear her screams or believe them.
She has begged me not to tell anyone. It's not something that I want to keep quiet because if you could hurt the flower of your own garden, what is to stop you from trampling on another man's. I have eyes watching you. I have ears listening to you. Every move you make, I will be there and when the time is right, I will come back and thank you for all you have done.
I don't know how long it will take. I, as her man, have to pay for your sins. I am just happy that I found this out. Imagine me in my stupidity, coming to both of you to please help me talk to your daughter. I can't imagine how much damage I have done. The good thing is that we have the rest of our lives to make it right for her and for us as well.
Don't bother to contact my family. My father knows. Remember he does not much like you. He must have sensed your pedigree when you met.
Thank you for at least giving birth to this incredible woman. This woman whose strength or beauty you cannot take and whose joys you will never know.
What ever is left of your days, spend it together. You deserve to.

Your Son-in law

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Dear Father

How much longer is my wait
To realise my fate
when will this dream cease to be
a dream and become a reality for me

Have I made a mistake
That turned me away from you?
Or have I simply not done
all the things you want me to

I sit here and watch others build
build all their heart's desire
rules i refuse to break
lest I walk a painful path of fire

still I cannot say that it's been that bad
cos even on the darkest days, it's not that dark
and the silence still contains whispers
to calm my frantic and panicked heart

Please help me
Father please take me
To the place that I have earned
Hopefully it's the same place I desire as well
if not
Then let me know
where and how far I have to go
because this torture of not being able to know
is becoming a secret hell

Dear Father
I know you hear me
As always you do
Your daughter is wondering
what next she should do
I guess I have to hold on a little longer
Though my arms are tired
cos I am not the only one holding
There's also the ones from whom I am sired.

Still I thank you for my little huge miracles
That make the days pass pleasant
And cushions to the falls
so the scrapes are distant
Help me be what you want me to be
A replica in the image of thee
so that I can manifest to me
The dreams that only I see

Sunday, November 11, 2007

A typical Friday

7.00 am
Alarm Rings...

WTF?!!!!!!
Oh, damn. Stupid alarm
What time is it?
i still have two hours till class


7.45 am
I still have time
Why did I even wake up sef?

8.30 am ( Class is at 9.10)
Oh God. Please help me wake up
Oya Catwalq, lift your leg...
lift your....

8.45 am
Yeepa
Mo daran
Where is the toothpaste?
I have not even prayed
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
HUUUUUUUUUUUUU
May the Blessings Be
What will I wear o
Let me look out the window, is it sunny
Aaahh, I see people in multiple layers
Beige coat it is...illfitting but warm
Who on earth is in the bathroom at this time?
"Hey girl, what's up?....yeah, I am late...no take your time"
What kind of nonsense is this?
While she is glueing on her face let me lay out my outfit.
No can't wear this one...have put on weight
The button's off
I don't like the way the hem sits on my shoes
Not warm enough
T-shirt and Jeans it is....
"Oh you're out? thanks . be right there"
Where is my text book?
ok...I don't have one
Notebook I meant
Do I have any assignment?
Thank God, not today
Yeeeee, I have to finish my sketches for 2.00pm.....
Aaaaaarrrgh
Oya
What is the time
9 o'clock?
Well, class is at 9.10 so I have ten minutes to take a bath, curl my hair,get dressed and get downstairs, out and up the hill to class...
Where is the toothpaste?...I am going to bite this girl today
"Yo, you're supposed to cover the tube when you're done and why is the paste caking at the top?"
is this heiffer giggling?
Boya o ro pe mo n sere ni...nonsense!!!
brush, brush, brush, brush...where is the flat iron...brush, brush, brush, brush
this my face that looks like the surface of the moon
"Hun? .....Sure..."
Spit...aaaaaaaahhhhhh
Aveeno facial scrub
Maybe I should stop accepting poverty and just invest in proactive
Girl, you need to loose some weight. Stop wearing those corset tops, they are deceiving you
I will start my diet tomorrow
No, come to think of it, I have that thing in the morning
I will start on Sunday...oooh, have service
I will start on Monday so that it will be the beginning of the week and I will be disciplined.
Run the water for the shower.....aaaaaarrrrrggghhhh, I guess that's not the hot side


10.45 am
one, two, three, four
walk, walk, walk
men, I am so late, it's disgusting

11.15 am
Professor: ....so that is how you can manipulate smoke from refuse disposal into a public display of art. Using all we have discussed, the project is due on Friday
Catwalq: what project?
Professor: I do not acknowledge the presence of those who disrupt my class with lateness.
Catwalq: I am sor...
Professor: See you next week
Catwalq: Ugh!!! see yourself?

11.45
I am upset with myself
putting myself in that position where just anybody will be talking to me anyhow
I am going to go eat something

12.00
you know you should not be drinking sweet stuff
diet...diet...diet...
oh, I remember I am starting it on Monday so one little drink won't hurt
Ehen where is that bag of rendering pens?


1.50 pm (rushing to design class at 2.00)
oya comot for road if you cannot walk
who holds hands and lover-doveys in the street in winter?
these akata people sef
Dang girl, what is that on your head?
There's a brown girl in the ring tra lalalala
There's a brown girl in the ring tra lalalalalala
Oooooh, I want those pair of shoes
Wonder how much they cost...
EWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOO u want to use your jalopy to kill me?
how will i tell people that I was hit by ambulance?
Were
Go and tell them am not home o?


3.00 Pm (browsing the internet in class)
hmnnn....20 comments....nyzeeeeeee
Professor: Ms Catwalq, would your housing be less dense or more dense?
Catwalq: hun? I am sorry? (chineke, was he talking to me all this time?) Please can you repeat the question?
Professor: On this campus would the housing be less dense or more dense?
Catwalq (which campus? which of the housing? think! Think!! Think!!!) uhhhhh, as dense.
Professor: Hun?
Class: hun?
Catwalq: It should be equal-equal
Professor: Okayeeeeee, any answers
(six hands go up)
Why did you not ask them first....
Let me play my mahjong jooo
I am about ready to start my weekend
Why has he not called?
I hate all this transatlantic loving men
my phone bill is in the pits
He has to call
let me flash him
yeah, i no dey shame o...011 ....
I definitely have to start my workouts
where is that my bellydancing DVD?
and my yoga DVD?
and my taebo DVD?
I need to find one and get serious
yeah, I am starting Monday and this time it's for real
When is this class going to be over?
I want to see that free movie men...yeah broke chick's in the house
Eeeehhh it looks like I am really going to be in the house today
It is raining ke?
Ooooh-ooooh
me I am not going anywhere o
Olorun ma je
with this demonic icy rain in this place
i want some tea
yeah, hot lime tea and plenty sugar


6.30 pm
you are almost home
just a few more steps
you're almost home
*shiver*
*shiver*
why could I not have applied to a school in California or Florida
Maybe earthquake would have carried my class away
Or hurricanes
Mba, winter it is

7.00 pm
Scrubs
ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba (those that know the JD song know what I am singing here)
ooooh what is this template on BimbyLads blog?
let me try and change my own

8.00 pm
MO GBE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have deleted my blog

8.05 pm
*phew* false alarm
all these yeye free sturves on the internet to mess up my evening

9.00 pm
Good night
No more energy for a fight.

11.30 pm
I am hungry
where is that ice cream?

Sunday, November 04, 2007

An ode to Jenny...from Bimbylads book

Thanks to Bimbylads for the inspiration...

I am not angry.
I am numb.
I am not feeling anything.
I don't think I can or will ever more.
Why are you asking me to look at you?
What do you think I will see?
Other than the one who has taken my trust and brought me to my knees.
What is her name?
Why her?
What does she have that I don't?
Does her mind produce the words that you claimed seduced you so?
Or is it a lack of her ability to do that that you sought in the first place?
Does her skin rise at the sound of your voice like mine does?
Do her hips match the oscillation of yours in a fierce dance of desire?
Do her lips part to paint the night with sounds of pain that only pleasure can provide?
Does she make your whole being slam to a screaming halt?
Do her nails make the scratches that you so like to admire like badges of a night well spent?
What does she have?
What does she smell like?
Jasmine? Citrus? Silken sheets?
What does she taste like?
What does she have?
Does she drop all she is doing to rush home to bring you the report that you were reminded time and time again to take with you but inadvertently you forgot?
Does she spend time pouring through recipes to create dishes from places you have never been but you imagine that upon eating them you will go?
Does she hold you when the attacks come? When your own body works against you to deprive you the freedom of air?
Doe she hold you in the night when nightmares terrorize your dreams? And say not a word even though she knows you will never admit to the fears that plague your night?
Has she met your mother? That witch that was sent by the devils and trained by his demons to make my life a living hell?
Has she met that woman from whom I have hidden all your failures and up to whom you will never speak in my favour?
Has she met the woman who begrudges me her lack of a grandson when three beautiful princesses glorify our home?
Has she met your drunken brother whose filthy paws constantly grab at my breasts like they belong to him and whose alcoholism you defend and expose our children to?
Has she met your family members to whom you will not confess the true state of our finances but are quick to give them all their heart's desires while I have to sell off one inheritance after the other?
Has she met that good for nothing human waste, Kalu, you call a best friend? I am sure she has. He probably introduced the two of you.
What does she look like?
Who is she?
Is she as stupid as I for staying with you all this time? Praying each day that maybe the man I fell in love in will be the one to return to me from his hard day's work?
So, what do you plan to do with her?
Is she to replace me?
Why?
What have I done wrong?
What have I not given you?
My heart? I gave it to you. I don't think you remember what you did with it
My life? I don't know what it is without being miserable with you.
My body? It bears the scars of carrying your seed three times. Of receiving your seed a million times. Irrespective of if I was in the mood or not.
Why are you asking me to look at you when you are not answering my questions?
Why are you telling me this?
You did not tell me before you went to her. Before you thrust into her body that part of you, you used to say was mine.
Was it ever?
Why are you getting angry at my questions?
Do I look angry to you?
*laughs and shakes head*
Why are you looking like that?
Why are you holding your stomach?
What is wrong with you?
Oh, you better answer my questions.
Cos I am not getting up from here until you do.
And there is no way you will get to the hospital on time.
Why are you looking at me like that?
You thought I did not know what you were planning to tell me tonight?
Do I look stupid to you?
I guess I must cos I am amazed you did not know that I knew
Well dear, I always did.
Stop gasping like that...you will wake the kids.
Yeah, those chemicals will do that to you.
It's so funny how selfish you have become.
You don't even realise that we have not eaten together in years.
You don't even notice that I do not eat when you eat because you creep up in here at the most God-awful hours of the day.
Well, sweetie...you better start talking.
I am not sure how much longer you have.
You see, I am stupid.
I did not read the warnings on the label

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

So cos I temporary have my profs camera...

So I was tired of eating.... (yeah, am an ungrateful heiffer at times)



So i went and got out...

the yam


chopped peppers and onions




corned beef



seasoning


and came up with
Washed down with

Then instead of repeating that the next day, I decided I wanted some fake pounded yam and ewedu

So I burst out the frozen package of ewedu and shoved it in the blender

Put water on fire (and some blended crayfish and seasoning in the ewedu)




and warmed some of the old fish stew


So my okele making skills still have a long way to go...this is at the beginning o before some of you start making noise



But if you put the saucer (or whatever you use to scoop the meal) in hot water and pat the whole thing down after it's all done, u end up with...


So all in all
Rice+ stew+ fish+dodo= A-
Yam + Corned Beef Stew = A+
Fake Pounded Yam= C+
Ewedu= A+
Fake Pounded Yam + Ewedu= B-
Catwalq after eating all this food = quite useless

And thru it all my sink was....



Please feel free to make yourself a plate....

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Cleanliness is next to Catwalq



When I was a little girl, my mother would shake her head in despair at the state of my room. The room I shared with my younger brother always seemed to have an invisible wall with his side spotting the made bed and my side a postcard image for a cyclone disaster.

I also promised myself never to become my mother who had sponges for everything (sponge for tumblers was not to be mixed with the one for plates and those, God forbid, must never be mixed with the one intended for the gas cooker...) and napkins for every occasion. She is clean to a fault.

Flash forward to today and I am my mother. I have to make my bed before I leave. My closet must be arranged and be able to shut. My drawers are neat and arranged. My kitchen must be spotless and so must my bathroom be. My books and reading materials, not so much so but everything does have some sort of order.
The problem: I have a suitemate.

Maybe it is just me but I don't care what kind of weave you have but if it is shedding like a mongrel, it really should not be on your head.

You have to learn to clean your toilet at least once a week. For boys, that might not be a serious issue but if you are spotting a vagina or intend to stick something of yours in one, the toilet must be paid attention to

Once you are older than eleven, I don't see why anyone should have to remind you to do your dishes. It makes the kitchen smell, breeds roaches and is a burden on your roommates

No matter how pretty you are, if you cannot keep a home clean and you intend to validate your existence through marriage, you might be unpleasantly surprised to find that even though your husband has armed you with an army of paid staff, they do not respect you and neither does he. Also, chances are that you will breed another species of dirty people just like you.

Everyone should have . Lysol with bleach. It is man's gift to those who cannot scrub the tub after a shower (which you should do to avoid stains and discolorations). All you have to do is spray the tub down, go put on your body lotion, come back and rinse it down and go off to your day.

As you cook, clean up. That way, when you are done the kitchen does not look like something horrible happened and we need to send for CSI

Cleanliness is next to Godliness. If your body is a temple for God, should the place within which you place this said temple not be worthy of it?

I am trying not to get fatigued by the experience of a girl who is using her body like a woman but refusing to keep her home (or suite which we share) like one. It makes me feel like I am thirty and more to be obsessing over the fact that there is hair in the sink, foundation stains on the counter top and spilled food in the fridge....I don tire o my people.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Brave Ones and Lost Ladies.

So I was avoiding my homework and gallivanting about blogville when I found this.

I was immediately flashed back to when I was in secondary school and one of my classmates told me about a family she knew that was being torn apart.

Apparently the family was of one of the elders in her church. The son of this family whom I will call Brave One had fallen in love and decided to marry this girl whom we shall call Lost Lady. What was the fuss about? Well you see, Lost Lady, whilst in her youth had experimented and been about town quite a number of times. And she had been a student at the government college where my classmate's father had been the principal (that's how she even knew Lost Lady who had been suspended and reprimanded so many times, it was unbelievable)



So in any case, Lost Lady had lost her way, painted the town red, been expelled and left the place for Lagos. There, she also shook the third mainland bridge and rotated the island. Then one day, she met Brave One and calmed down. He knew her past because they had been classmates or something of the sort. He did not care. Together, they built a relationship that everyone was against from the very beginning.

The whole thing exploded when Brave One returned home to this same town that they all came from (and where she had schooled) to announce that he had asked Lost Lady to be his wife and she had said yes. Brave One was promptly disowned by his father with the option of a return only when the relationship was terminated. The poor guy asked them to kiss his derriere, went on to marry the chick and have a beautiful baby boy.

So now, Little Brave One is about two years old (at the time I am hearing the story), the family is split because siblings are taking sides, community is talking, my classmate's father who is most respected has been called to intervene ( Methinks Brave One is the only son...or something) etc.

This whole time my friend is talking, the group is all ears and chipping in "Ehn-ehn", "for real?" and "can you imagine?" where necessary. I am more intrigued by the fact that she (my friend) is not in support of the union and the fact that the parents of the boy are leaders in their church.
It just so happened that I heard the story after a marathon of religious discussion where the general consensus was that my choice of faith was going to lead me to a fiery pit and only a conversion to theirs was going to change my sorry fate.

I asked ' So, she cannot get a second chance?"
The conversation stalled. Then immediately sprang up with responses that were along the lines of "But look at all she has done...." Apparently, she used to date older men, smoke, sleep around, bail out of school, steal...anything you can think a misguided chick can do in her teens.

After reading Seun's post as well as a few others that I have perused in the past 48 hours, I was once again wearied by the knowledge of the standards that society places on my sex. A misguided woman can never find redemption. A misguided man defines redemption. A sexually aware/ liberated woman has a permanent apartment in the devil's condominium complex. Well, wasn't a man built to be depositing his gifts all around?...I mean, walk down any Lagos street and they are there spraying the walls of public property with their ammonia laden gifts and a woman who does the same has to hide behind bushes that might give her a horrible itch.

The most judgemental are also the most religious. It doesn't matter the faith. I have met some Eckists too that have caused me to blanch at their ignorance...but every soul is entitled to their level of consciousness.

This girl needed a second chance. She had made mistakes with the decisions she had taken. She was lucky, she found a man who was willing to help her rebuild her life. Whether he later fell to the pressure of his family of emotionally blackballed her into subservience by lauding her past over her head remained to be seen but at the time of the story, he was the Brave One.
His family did not see his decision to stand by this woman as strength but as a sign of his weakness to his lust or her use of some charms over him.

The church had banned the couple because they were seen as immoral. And so did most people who heard the story. She and so many women have never been given a chance to rise back to their glory because the society is hypocritical whereas Alamiesiegha or what ever his name was given a return party after he returned from his brief incarceration. His errs most likely has cost many a family their livelihood and happiness, many a youth their dream and our nation her dignity but hey, he is man and Lost Lady a demonic incarnate.

Men, one day you will meet a lost lady. Be brave enough to love her and give her a chance. I am sure that is all she needs to find her way. Women like that are usually always reliant on men for direction and validation so your support will be the nudge that she lost her way to find.

Ladies, let's give our sisters a break. Any one of us could be her.