She that foundeth a husband....

I saw him.

I wanted him.

I facebooked him.

I added him.

He added me.

I messaged him.

On something that had nothing to do with him.

He replied me.

Then we chatted.

Then we emailed properly.

With our gmail accounts.

There we chatted as well.

Then he asked for my number.

Then he called me.

Then I called him.

Then he was coming to town.

So he asked if he could see me.

I said ok, that I would like to see him.

So we met and we saw each other.

We had fun.

He came back.

We had more fun.

Then I went over.

And had more fun.

Then I came back home.

And invited him over.

He came.

It had been all planned.

I was ready.

And I let him know.

It was magical as expected.

The next morning we talked.

And talked.

We were going to make it work.

We did.

It took us four years.

We made it work.

Then he tied me to him with a good old fashioned rock.

Over cake and wine, he said to the guests

"He that findeth a woman...."

I smiled to myself.

Because if anyone had been foundeth

It had been me finding him

Blog Mongers IV

What the hell do you think you are doing?

What do you mean?

I am asking you what the hell you think you are doing?

I...

Do you know that I almost fell out of my bed with fright?!!! I thought someone was dying!

Dying! Where?! Why?!

I can't believe this shit!

What are you talking about?

What are you doing?

Wha...Oh, you mean...?

Yes, I mean...

I was rehearsing.

For what? How to wake the dead?

(laughing) noooo, now, blogville idols.

U're fucking with me.

What? You don't think I can win?

U're fucking with me.

What?

Have you heard yourself?

What do you mean?

Let's just say that if I could bottle your voice, I can bleach metal.

What?!

Ya heard me

You are mean

My dear,I am your friend. I won't lie to you. Your voice is the stuff of nightmares. Look at my hair, it is still standing.

That's gel.

Uhn uhnnnn

yeah uhn

I applaud you your faith in miracles and I know I can't stop you but please don't melt the phones with your singing. Or aren't you having to call in?

You're mean

I am just saying. I am going back to bed, please don't make me wake up screaming like a woman.

Whatever man, u're just mean

No, Catwalq, I am telling you the truth....

Blog Mongers III

Dear Wise Sistah,
I have been started and deleted this email to you so many times that I have lost count. I knew that for me to get the healing that I so desperately seek, I would need to do this. Talking to you is the final phase of ripping the band aid off the wound that is my bleeding heart and battered soul. I know that this email will confuse you as you think you have no idea what I am talking about. But I can assure you that you do and in your own very brave way, you tried to prevent us all from going through the same experience but we were too absorbed by your tale to fully understand the bright red flag of warning that you waved. I for one, thought myself above such mistakes and thus walked right into one. Now, I have to retrace my steps and have returned to my starting point, bruised and bewildered but very grateful that I was even able to return at all. It seems that many others have not been so lucky.

I only have one question. It will explain the ramblings in the paragraph above to you and I know that your answer will help me immensely. Like you, I was lured into believing that life outside of blogville was just as believable and predictable as life within it; a place where the blogger and his words are the same.

How did you survive HIM? I am trying to and it has been devastating. I have lost myself in a most horrific way. I was wrenched away from my reality and everyday is a struggle not to loose all else.

Sincerely

Little-Enid-Blyton


I read the email over and over again, each time heart sinking to an even deeper place in my chest. Just when I had imagined that the past was all wrapped up and put where it belonged: on hot embers so they could be turned to ash, it seemed that a little piece had escaped the fire and floated up on the softest breeze to taunt me. I was suddenly enraged. Rising out of my seat with a loud, almost inhumane scream that tore itself from my tortured breast, I hurled my mug of coffee away from me and at the wall. The ceramic piece shattered releasing its dark contents in a splash against my curtains that were in its way.

I realized I was shaking; and so much that saliva was collecting in my mouth and coming out in small spurts. Tears sprang to my eyes and gushed out and before I knew it, I was sobbing. Not just for myself but for her. I slowly sank to my chair but had knocked it away when I stood up so instead my body sank awkwardly to the floor. There I sat in a most uncomfortable and undignified manner.

Then suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I was going to say what I had been threatening to say and what HE had threatened me not to. I no longer cared that he said he had emails from me that would contradict my allegations and turn me into the woman scorned and the stalker spurned. I did not care that he said he had me on video doing unspeakable things in the nude, so drunk that even I could not remember. I did not care about all he had said. All I knew was that I was dealing with a very sick and twisted individual who needed to be stopped. Someone who used the cloak of anonymity to befriend and betray the trust of innocent women; Sistahs of mine.

All of us had become bloggers for different reasons and had been grateful for the camaraderie and friendships we had found. We had made the mistake of taking it outside of the realms for which it was intended. The hand we had extended had been horribly maimed. Our bodies and minds horribly raped. The result of mine lay in some dumpster somewhere along with other unformed human waste that could only be found in such clinics that performed the service.

It all had to end. And I had decided to bite the bullet and do the deed. I picked myself up, pulled my chair back and returned to my computer screen. The email was still open, Little-Enid-Blyton's email sitting undisturbed and unflinching. I opened another tab and logged into my Blogspot account.

That motherfucker was going down.

Blog Mongers II

I have just been on your blog. What the hell is going on?

My dear, na so I see am o. Leave them, when their joblessness comes to an end, they will move on to something else

This is serious o. You have almost a hundred and fifty comments and most of them are just insulting each other left, right and center

hehehehehehehhehehee

You are laughing...

I should not laugh? This shit is funny o.

Men, this blogging thing sef. Some people have turned it to a do-or-die affair.

Omo[1], for some of them, it is.

What even happened sef?

Nothing o. Remember when I went home last month for xmas...

ehen

ehn, that was when it all happened.

U mean the reunion issue?

Yes o. That is what they have now turned to ammunition and used to make noise over my head. The mumus[2]

Ehn-ehn. This is serious o.

You cannot even imagine. I have been bombarded by emails from all over. Even bloggers that I thought were my friends are misyarning in my direction. The shit is exhausting.

What are you going to do?

Nothing. I don't have time for uselessness. Though, I am enjoying it sha. I am riding those blog hits all the way to the bank. You know I have ads on my blog.

Wait o, you really need to break down what is going on because I am lost. Which one concerns Skinny Dude with the matter?

Oh that one? he is the one that started it. Him and his gbeborun[3] mouth. That man talks like a bitch men.

Where have I been all this while?

U dey ask me? I dey with you?

I am serious joo. Explain, what happened

Men, I am tired. It is a long story.

Haba. You cannot do this to me o.

You don't know how mentally exhausting this thing is o.

Please now

Okay. Remember how when I went home, I planned that fundraiser and invited all my friends?

Ehn now, you invited me sef, just that I ended up not coming home again.

Ehennnnn. Anyways sha, the week before my beach fundraiser, you know Roses And Diamonds planned that her annual bloggers' reunion party that every one and their mama goes to. Lepa Shandi and Skinny dude were there and somehow, one of them said that I was in town and that they had just spoken to me on the phone. Can you imagine that Roses And Diamonds made them call me, put me on speaker phone and talk to everyone there? I was so upset. I had to say hi to like twenty people, some of whom I did not even know....

I remember that she blogged about it.

Men that one is small. She was sha like "why did I not come?" me, i cannot now be telling her that i have no interest in meeting her and her band of "bloggers extraordinaire"; so I said I was sorry and that I had not been aware because I had been planning to my trip home and that I could not make the get together even for a drop-by because I was not in Lagos at the moment.

Where were you?

In Lagos.

Olosi[4]

men, what is going to carry my leg to such a place? If I am not talking to you outside of blogville by now, you should know that I don't want to see your face anywhere.

You are a blog snob

And proudly so. If I wanted to know everyone, i would have used my real name.

So what now happened?

Ehen, that is how she huffed and puffed she was asking me to come and I was like, I couldn't. Long story short, she said that she was planning another one two weeks from then for those bloggers who had missed that day and she would not take no for an answer. I told her I would try and hung up. I was leaving the week of her second shing-ding so I knew that even if she called anyways, I would be out of the country...

you sef...

anyways, my event holds and of course you know all those that were there: Aristocrat, East of The Niger, Her Majesty's Spy, Prince of my Castle, Still Waters and co.

You did not mention all those celebs now.

You are telling me. Anyways, stupid me invited Skinny Dude because somehow, we had been chatting offline and we yarn small small sha and I thought it would be a good networking opportunity for him, cos that guy has so many ideas, too bad he just yarns like a woman. That's how when he now saw Roses And Diamonds, she was like "Where is La Femme Executive?" That one was like "oh, she has gone back to the UK o. After her party last week. In fact, this blogger was there...

Haaaaaa

That blogger was there. bla bla bla bla....it was like another bloggers reunion, just with the creme de la creme.

O pari[5]

I am guessing that alot of people were there because that was how it all began. the mugu now sent me an email saying that if I knew I did not want to meet her, I should have just said so instead of pretending and lying. And you know me now, I was like "I am glad you understand"

No you didn't!!!! Kike, your mouth sef...

Me ke? what did I do? I mean she hit the nail right on the head. I would have given her a prize but I did not have spare change...

Bitch

hehehehehehehehehe. Wharreva joo. That was how it all began o. She told one person and another. the next thing, someone is putting up a post on their blog on how some naija bloggers feel too big with themselves and the olorigbeske[6] decides to mention that for example La Femme Executive is one of them.

That was what I saw and was like , ah-ah what is going on? Went to your blog and saw that the party had already started without me.

Men, you missed. You should have read the post when Roses and Diamonds said that she is such a humble girl and proceeded to give us a brief run down of her life and all the nonsense she has accomplished. I laughed so hard, I almost deleted an important file. The razz mbeke

This is all so surreal. My own is just that, what concerns all the people who feel that they have to say something?

You know most of them cannot seperate the blog from its blogger. I remember the post that I put up about seducing my boss and the emails I got then with people, mostly female asking me to repent and desist because I would be ruining someone's marriage--I had said that he was married--some even emailed me just to insult me and to call me all sorts of names. I......

which boss? you own your own business or when was this?

They don't know that now. I remember when I met Aristocrat and he was like "you are shorter than I expected."

He thought you were tall?

Well, at least taller than I am. I was like, "You are poorer than I expected."

You did not!!

I sure did. That was way before we started dating.

Your mouth is going to put you in trouble one day

It already has mennnn. What possessed me to say "I do"?

Wharrever it was, your wedding is about to be off the hook. I wonder what those bloggers would say if they knew that the two of you are getting married. On blogville, you are always fighting...

hehehehehee. That is why this drama is funny to me. Some people want to kill themselves over shit that is not that serious. Woooo, me I am hungry, I am going to make something to eat.

My dear, we go yarn later. Nighty night

Night sister-in-law. Go and update your blog joo. That place is disgraceful...

Naughty girl.

[1] Omo: child
[2]Mumu: Imbecile
[3]Gbeborun: gossip
[4]Olosi: fool
[5] O pari: It's finished!
[6] Olorigbeske: Big headed

Blog Mongers I

Hano lives at 2, Fortworth Avenue. He lives in a three bedroom, two and a half bath, walk-out basement townhouse. He drives a Volkswagen Jetta. He leaves for work every morning at 7.00 am so that he can beat the beltway rush and make it to work for 8.30, after which he would spend the next thirty minutes setting up his desk, making scalding hot tea to jarr him awake and check on his internet affairs. This is one of his favourite times of the day. The time between 8.30 and 9.15 when the office is quiet and empty of his other colleagues.

This is the time he runs through his check list of blogs, reading and leaving comments. He has his favourites because almost every other day, they have a new post up with content as intriguing and as entertaining as the commentary that follow.

There's Shady Lady, a young Nigerian woman who blogs out of her base in New York and posts the most outrageous tales about her exploits with people she knows are dubious and shady. There is Tantalizers, a young Nigerian man who loves to cook and works in a bookstore. There is East Of Here, a Rwandan journalist who fled to France when the genocide began. There's Seffi Appiah, a Ghanian woman who always finds something amusing about her daily commute to the senior citizens' home where she works as a nurse. There's Lace And Ankara, a young Nigerian woman who imagines herself to be the next vogue in the making for her blog is filled with borrowed reports and commentary on the latest fashions from all over the world. There's Michael Butts, whose blog Hano does not understand but finds fascinating because of all the information pertaining to technology displayed and discussed there.

Hano reads blogs from contributors all over the world. He is familiar with the different cultural groups on the internet: the Africans, Asians, Europeans, Americans, South Americans and Australians. He loves them all. The ones that he pays most attention to are the Africans because their tales are so unique and highly indicative of where the social consciousness is.

For instance, there is no morning that he stops at Shady Lady's without seeing some offended Nigerian calling her out on her supposed activities. There was a time that Shady Lady indicated that someone had reported her to the authorities and they had investigated her using her URL. That had been an interesting time because Shady Lady had gone offline for three months. While she was gone, the comments on her blog reached almost three hundred as various theories were thrown about as to her wherabouts. She later surfaced with a post full of curses for whoever she believed was responsible.

He loves her blog. He loves what she writes. It always makes him laugh. Especially when she decides to take digs at other bloggers. Her post on one female blogger, Sitting On The Rock got more than fifty comments in its first hour. Sitting On The Rock always wrote about her plans to get married before the end of the year and each post was an outlet for her frustrations at her lack of success in finding a mate even though she had intensified her prayers, fasting and involvement in church. Shady Lady cleaned the floor with her and the ensuing online brawl lasted all of three weeks with bloggers taking sides and expressing their own views on the issue.

Hano had watched it all unfold and die down. Shady Lady, bored, had moved on to other issues. Sitting on the Rock had fled the blogging world. The drama was over. And it has been for a while so, Hano is a bit bored with what the posts he sees online in the mornings. No one is saying anything important and no one is pushing any new projects.

After scrolling through a few blogs, he moves to his email. He hits the "compose" button. He sends two emails.

The next morning he is tickled to see one of his favourite female bloggers, Express Lady give a spill all post on her relationship gone sour with another blogger, Aristocrat. He checks the blog hits and smiles.

I don't particularly like children. Growing up and envisioning my future, I could see a career, the possibility of a husband but I never could envision some little things running around complaining of hunger or each other. I don't have the patience or the interest to indulge them. But I do not see why one should deny them their childhood either. I had mine. They deserve theirs.

I sometimes feel the emphasis that Nigerian women put on children is not necessarily because they are so loved but because of what motherhood represents and affords the woman. As a "child bearing" woman, she-the mother that is- is certified as "fully functional" and she secures her position in her marital home. And we all know what "marriage" is to the Nigerian woman.

I know that mothers do love their children. My mother would give me her heart right now without batting an eyelid and she would do the same for my brother; so, I am not saying that a there is a lack of love and affection. I am just saying that I feel that some of the ways we define motherhood is not something I aspire to be a part of.

If and when I decide to become selfless and revolve around someone else, I plan to adopt. I cannot understand how when God has created a balance between women seeking children and children seeking mothers, we still have so many children living in deplorable conditions in orphanages. Or women being put through hell because of "their" inability to produce children? Why would I subject myself to midnight sojourns to the riverside and eating odd delicacies like fried tortoises under the moon when I can simply walk into one of such homes and pick one child to give my whole life to?

Some argue that "There is nothing like your own blood. What if the child asks for his/her mother in the future?" Then by all means, let us get a private detective and seek her out; provided she has indicated that she wishes to be found. I am of the mindset that if all I can do is love that child and give the child even half the childhood experience my parents provided me, then I have done a good thing. Imagining that because you nearly ripped apart your insides pushing forth someone into this world is a guarantee that they will love and respect you says to me that your definition of what it is to be a mother is askewed.

I think children ought to be nurtured, cherished, celebrated, disciplined, educated and learned from. It is a huge responsibility to be given the task to help shape the destiny and mindset of another human being. It takes patience, selflessness and a great deal of creativity. Love is secondary. I love kids, I just don't like them.