Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Sometimes, it is so much easier to give in to those desires that hold court in your heart. Maybe, I am not that strong at all. Maybe there is nothing even spectacular about me at all. Maybe I am just a 23 year old woman trying to survive in an environment that is not realy equipped to accept her when she is at her best or at least striving to be so.
Maybe I am tired of wondering when my time will come. Maybe I am allowed a moment of weakness. Maybe I am not weak at all. Maybe in fact, letting go will be a true manifestation of my strength. Maybe I am just lazy. I mean, can I say that waiting this long is too long? Maybe I am just coming up with one excuse after the other.
Maybe I should just enjoy this. Maybe I deserve this. Maybe this is all I can handle at the moment. Maybe it might become something more. Maybe one day, I will cease to be 23 and he 35.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Make blog protection services no talk say i be unfit blogger come comot my babies from my care.
I even have pics of my last design project up.
have a lovely weekend everybody.
stay away from anon comments with no purpose.
And finally a shout out to my blog crush: Yosh, what's up?
Thursday, August 16, 2007
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, August 12, 2007
1. WAFFARIAN X 19
2. IDEMMILLI X 15
3. TOYINTOMATO X 12
4. OMODUDU X 5
5. YOSH X 10
6. FINE BOY X 35
7. UBONG DA X 18
8. ATUTUPOYOYO X 28
9. DIARY OF A G X 16 + BREAK DANCING IN CLASS
10. OVERWHELMED X 25
12. JAJA X 12
13. GEISHA X 2
14. BOORISH (LISTENING TO MUSIC OUT LOUD)
15. EXSCHOOL NERD X 1
Jeremy Naija blog: I really need to go home. My driver has been here for over an hour.
30+: hmn, i think you want to ride the ambulance home. They are waiting for you outside.
Jeremy: why is everyone so mad at me? did i lie when I said they were making noise. they were...or did you not notice.
Princessa: all that one na yarns men.
Jeremy: I beg your pardon
30+: hei, chineke they will brush dis oyinbo boy today o
Jeremy: I have done nothing wrong.
Princess: didn't anyone explain to you exactly how writing-names-of-noise-makers goes?
Jeremy: Mrs. Somebody told me to write the names of anyone who makes a sound and subsequently add a mark every time after that.
30+: u are only supposed to warn them. You are not really supposed to give the teacher their names.
Jeremy: I am supposed to lie? Then where is the integrity in being the noise captain?
Princessa (bursts into laughter): sobquo, intagreetie, dis is going to be funny men. Toyintomato have break a branch and she said she will use it and kola si e loju
Jeremy: i never quite follow you, Princessa.
30+: she just means that Toyintomato is waiting for you outside with a stick. She intends to make marks on your face with it.
.Jeremy: My God, why has everyone gone crazy? I only did as I was asked. why is everyone on my case.
30+: I feel you. well, the boys were handed over to the seniors for punishment and Mrs. Somebody took the girls.
Princessa: and you know the seniors don't like us.
Jeremy: They don't...? Wha...
Toyintomato: ehen! dis ez whia u a hydeeng? Hmn, Jehrehmee, what did i does u, ehn, what did I does you? Dat u came and went and gave my name to Mrs. Somebodee?
Waffarian: Broda from obodo, na here u dey. we know know now. we dey find you.
(The class fills up with the girls)
Solomonsydelle: Jeremy, u wrote my name on the noisemakers list? when was I making noise?
Jeremy: if you all calm down, I can tell you exactly when you made my list.
Toyintomato: make your list. Hy did not make your list o. was heet not u dat write it yoursef?
30+: u guys please calm down. U guys will get in more trouble o
Idemmili: 30+, 30+, i know say ur eyes no go see road after oyinbo man don look your side.
30+: Idemmili, please watch yourself o.
Ex School: abeg, make I hear word. Ngbo, Jeremy, you were writing names today and of all the people you could see to name, you put mine.
Toyintomato: leave him o, atoole osi.
Solomonsydelle: u and who are lady-ing? abi u think u are still in london abi it even paris sef?
Idemmilli: don't mind this scotland boy.
Jeremy: I am from England
Toyintomato: hand then?
Waffarian: your return can be arranged cos I need to repay you generously for the opportunity you presented me with having to clean the toilets.
Toyintomato: Hand Hy ad to go clia the deesgozteen keecheen gottas.
Exschool: can you imagine?
Jeremy: I am sorry you had to experience that but you must admit you girls were making noise. I mean, Waffarian, you were roaring loud in Pidgin English about whatever it was you were talking about and when I looked at you in warning, you waved at me.
Waffarian: Make I no greet you again? see me see trouble o
Jeremy: and u Idemmilli, am not even sure what "heaving bosoms and pulsating members" are but you and Ubong Da sure do
Solomonsydelle: when was I making noise Jeremy? you have still not answered my question.
Jeremy: I am surprised you don't remember with you and Jaja nearly coming to blows.
Solomonsydelle: so defending myself is now noise making
Ex School: oya prepare to defend yourself cos you are about to make some noise
Idemmili: and I guarantee you it will not involve heaving bosoms.
30+: u guys match your brakes o, match your brakes
Jeremy: what is all this?
(Overwhelmed and Geisha walk in laughing, encounter the situation and freeze)
Geisha: chineke me, what is going on here
Overwhelmed: gen gen, what is popping
Toyintomato: whia hare you comeeng frohm?
Overwhelmed: from Back Gate.
Geisha: went to get Suya, what is going on?
Jeremy: no, I am being accosted by them cos their names were on the noise makers list.
Geisha: their names were on the list or you put their names on the list.
Overwhelmed: come to think of it, I should be vexed with you.
idemmili: come to think of it, you should, where are you coming from?
Geisha: u know Alhjaji Blogger Generalwants to marry Overwhelmed. He organised her all this suya. U should see. (both girls open their bags)
Toyintomato: Jisoz!!! did hall the sheekens heen the town die?
Waffarian: o baby, dis jollification is not going to be a solo effort.
Overwhelmed: haba, u should know me now, if i wanted to solo it, I would not have come to class.
(they deposit the bag on Jeremy's desk and everyone begins to dig in)
Ex School: 30+ you won't eat? See princessa has jaboed you. Jeremy, u won't eat?
Jeremy: (slightly bewildered) no thank you. I am going home.
(the boys walk in)
Fine Boy: JEREMY NAIJA BLOG!!!! MY GUY!!!
Jeremy: Oh lord, not again.
Jaja (singing): white man
bring a little white rope for the white man
Ubong Da: Idemmili, freeze, thou shalt not indulge in the sins of the stomach alone.
Yosh :what are you still doing here?
D.O.G: mhmmmm, i smell spicy suya.
Omodudu: please tell me that Overwhelmed has got the hook up again.
Overwhelmed: u're damn right.
Omodudu: I am going to marry this chick. yeee
Atutupoyoyo: Jeremy, odaran, u are still here. U wrote my name. Awww, o boy why now.
Princessa: u guys nearly missed, the girls were going to brush him
30+: girl, your mouth will not koba u o. what are you playing at?
Jaja: eh, dibs on front row seating men. I am on Ugo's desk.
Yosh:I am going to assume, you are going to tell me how I got on your list.
Jeremy: (standing up) you know what, since none of you want to face the fact that maybe, just maybe, you were indeed making noise, then you can go ahead and brush, sweep, broom me...whatever the case may be. Just get it all over in five minutes. The driver has been waiting for me and I am possibly holding him up from picking up my dad from work.
Toyintomato: Liva koo, kidney ni. e rush e joo
Yosh: TT girl, pleasecalm down and pass me that breast.
Toyinyomato: eh Jisoz!
Yosh: chicken breast, that big piece there.
Jeremy: then it is settled, bye, thanks 30+ for everything. will see you tomorrow.
Fine Boy: o boy where are you going to? u have to sample this suya.
Jeremy: no thanks.
Yosh and Ubong Da: TAKE IT!!!!
Jeremy (assessing the situation, accepts a piece of meat) Thank you.
Toyintomato: u berra heat it veghy well. Heat eet hand swallow heet properly.
Jaja: oya e don do, next time, you will not be selling sweet and biscuit in class
(everyone bursts into laughter)
Yosh: yeah, cos it was when we were talking that my name got put down.
Jaja: solomonsydelle, solomonsydelle. i see u. i see u. soffry massacre that meat now. the thing is already dead.
Solomonsydelle: u people, I will bite this boy o.
Fine Boy: people, people, people; please allow me to enjoy this suya in peace and tranquility
Ubong Da: and the randiness of your thoughts
Idemmili: which one is doing him sef?
Jaja: Me thinks our boy is sprung
Jeremy: hun? (everyone looks at him)...sorry...ignore me
Fine Boy: no, no, no people, allow the guy and by the way Jeremy that meat is not going to eat itself. don't waste Alhaji Blogger General's finest.
Yosh (to Overwhelmed): does that guy know that you are not even yet fifteen?
Atutupoyoyo: wetin "consign" the man? for kano she for don born like four junior Blogger Generals wey go help their papa dey chase the chicken around.
Toyintomato (laughing with everyone): four, haaaa, mohdarah! killer!
Waffarian: so fine boy, why r u so happy?
Fine Boy: Waffy, my sister, I believe I am in love.
Waffy and Solomonsydelle: u believe...
Yosh: when Kpakpando catches you
Ubong Da: it will be nothing like what he will suffer when Baba Alaye get's his hands on him
Ex School Nerd: ye, fine Boy, please don't tell me...
Jeremy, 30+, : What?
D.O.G: He is talking about Taurean Minx.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Blogville has opened my mind and heart to discourses that I feel in my estimation need to be experienced by all. From politics to erotica, blogville has something for you. Nigerian bloggers are much more special because their insights are borned out of surviving in a country which has little or nor respect for the workings of a creative mind. The average person has no patience to comprehend how much work it taked to craft words into literary sculptures to pique interest, seduce the intellect and hammer home a strong message. They are too busy with the business of surviving.
That is why I would think that Governor Fashola will have much more on his plates than to push sanctions of the choice of wardrobe of the modern Nigerian. The hypocrisy of this witch hunt is so blatant, it is disgusting. The same people screaming for moral reform are unwilling to tackle issues like sexual and domestic abuse, human rights violations, economic corruption and trafficking of any kind.
I need an explanation of how the sight of skin is going to affect the price of fuel. I need to know how a man choosing to braid his hair is going to provide constant eletricities so that students can study, businesses can run and people can enjoy the small, modest comforts of their homes.
Our forefathers and foremothers walked around (in most cultures) in loin cloths, completely unashamed and UNAFFECTED with the sight of exposed skin. In comes the puritanistic and pervasively conservative caucasian missionaries and they brainwash an entire people into believing that they are ugly and backward and we accept it and pass it on both directly and subliminally to subsequent generations.
Maybe we are, or how can you explain that a majority faith leader issues the ban on what a woman can wear to worship and immediately the entire congregation accepts it because, like in the worship of shrines, God apparently resides in one place.
My aunt who agrees with this idea of women not being ALLOWED to wear trousers to church told me she felt so because it is a garment associated with men. I corrected her by saying that it is a garment associated with freedom: freedom of mobility. A man is free to move around and do what he wants while women are forced to scurry about in the shadows so as not to terrify the man when he realises that the woman, if given the opportunity will accomplish alot and possibly more than he can. Am I now to cater to the insecurities of all men who cannot define themselves exclusive of the worship, adoration and deference of women?
I think amongst our people of sheep, God is a semi senile, absent minded caucasian MAN with a long beard and a quick temper who forgets what is going on and then remembers with swift "punishments" for those who erred whilst he was sleeping.
Nigerians, please wake up. You are sliding further and further into the backwardness of ignorance and hypocrisy. You are ruled by fear in all that you do. The western world sees this and capitalises on it and you say nothing.You refuse to challenge those whom you know are responsible for your problems, instead, you in turn inflict more pain on yourselves and on others or you chase after matters that have little or no bearing on the immediate situation. Case in point, the administrative board using HIV and pregnancy tests as a combatant for pre-marital sex when most HIV victims contracted the virus from our pathetically substandard medical practices. Please go to every university in the country, no matter how low on the radar and you will be shown, if you ask which youth are mistresses and boy toys to the wealthy and powerful. Start using your brains, there is a reason why that organ was placed in your head, above all other organs so you can think and reason from a higher perspective.
Some might say, why are you speaking out? Is it because you are one of those women who dresses indecently? I ask, then, what is decency and by whose standards do we measure it? Some people think that it is immoral to patronise and perform in the arts; to them all form of vocal talent that can be displayed is immoral and for the more silent ones like the fine arts, they are a waste of time. There are some that consider the advancements of technology such as the television and radio backward.Some think I am immoral for even speaking at all because as a woman, i guess their understanding is that, as a woman, I am only supposed to use my voice in acquiescence to whatever oppressive and represive situation I am faced with. Are these the people I am supposed to watch blindly while they attempt to come between me and my destiny?
How dare I even think to challenge the status quo? Well, the status quo is rubbish; an amalgamation of ill conceived ideas, structured to keep a certain group of people in control of a nation of people who are just like sheep.
I am getting increasingly frustrated that there will be no country for my children to grow up in. Our neighbours are leaving us behind. We call ourselves the "Giant of Africa" but now Nigeria is appearing more and more like the good for nothing big brother with an over inlated image of himself. And I am panicked to think of how many women and men will get hurt by these recent developments
I am tired and I need to know what I can do.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Now, I was on the path towards my sexiness. Yes, so I was short, round, had no hair but my bra would change all that. My mother would start respecting me and very soon all the men would be at my beck and call. The reason they were not after me was because I had no "uplifts" to my "weapons of mass seduction". In 24 hours, I would cease to be Cattie and become Miss Catwalq, potential owner of double Ds (so I prayed).
After conveying to my father and brother in the most important of tones (like they cared), our mission, my mother and I set off for the one place in the world where you can find the most sexy of undergarments: Tejuosho Market.
I was nearly besides myself with excitement. i could not wait to return after mid-terms with my new bra(s). Almost everyone in my class had them in every shape or form; even those whose "aspiring" potrusions were competing to attain groundnut shapes and sizes. I had been eyeing in envy all those girls in dorm as they dressed and unleashed on my non-bra-wearing person their imported varieties in color and fabric, I was determined that I too would give them a run for their money. They were to wait and see. The new and improved Catwalq was about to be unleashed.
First we stopped at every customer my mother had in the market and she informed them in loud whispers what we were here to do. Laughter, cackling, winks and immediate perusal of my chest followed. i endured it all because at the end of the long stretch of market corridor, right under the staircase leading upstairs to the clothing and apparel section and male sales people who liked to grab at females sat the mecca of brand new female underwear. they could laugh all they wanted, when I passed back in an hours time, they would see just how little of a girl I was.
We got there. The women called out to the my mother and I and if not for the instructions I had been given before getting out of the car, i would have jumped forward and started rolling around. My mother settled on one woman with a nose ring. Seeing my eager face, the woman pulled out a bag containing some of the most colorful bras and matching panties I had ever seen. The models on their packaging, were white and had ironing boards for stomachs. the patterns were checkered, floral, mickey mouse, smiley faces etc. YES!!!! This was it, oh my God, this was it.
"Let's start with a 32 C" my mother informed the woman.
The woman expertly unwrapped the bras and spilled its contents out. She selected one. I will never forget it as long as I live. It was bright yellow with little red flowers running across the front. the top of it was scalloped in the lace patterns of the petals. the straps were tiny and had a little bow on the shoulder. The unpadded cups settled tightly into metal lifts to rest under my bra-virgin breasts and lift them to glory. And in a few minutes, it was going to be mine. i put my hand forward to touch it.
Smack! Iya Catwalq'a hand came out of no where and stung my skin. I retracted my smarting hand to saftety. What is going on? Even the seller was startled
"You will not wear such? Do you want to catch breast cancer?" say what? "or don't you know that the metal in the cups can rust against your skin? You will not put me in trouble. Madam, don't you have more suitable ones without metal?" My mother asked
"I get d one wey get plastic." the woman answered.
"No, none with anything. Just bring the plain bras."
I watched in slow motion as the objects of my sexual liberation that had been just minutes dangled beneath my nose like a punishing temptation, were slowly retracted and folded away and a bag containing another brand of womanhood brought forward. I nearly burst into tears when my mother reached for the bra of her choice.
The straps were so big, I could have checked "towel" off my back to school list.
It was plain cotton. Plain, boring and uninspiring cotton.
Visions of dressing in the dark to avoid being seen with such underwear catastrophes assualted my mind and my throat began to clog up with tears.
"Mummy..." I began.
"What?!" my mother snapped. That "what" was the kind that preceeded a slap and unlike Adaure's mother who waited to get home before she was beaten, my mother had no problems rearranging my facial features right there in the center of the market. And no one would intervene too because she just might met out the same to them.
That was how I walked home, the "proud" owner of four bras and matching panties.
We took the same route we had come in with and I had to "show off" my purchases.
When i got back to school, I made sure I took my shower at 3 in the morning and always dressed behind my locker door.
It took me two years to get over the experience.