PT 1: Am I Not Attractive? Why Don't I have Chykers?

You know I'm on my office desk, facing my computer and wondering what in God's name put me up to this. I have gone over this over and over in the last three hours and the harder I try to convince myself to open a blank MS document and write what I am being paid to write, the more my heart keeps telling me someone needs to read this just to feel fine. 

I did share with my sister and my bestie that one of the hardest things I have ever had to live with is being a twin. It is my blessing but it remains my curse. This is because, she is my exact opposite. People are too quick to compare us making me feel  inadequate because I'd rather just let my head down, never wear makeup or else I have been poked, not a fan of matching colours and unconsciously walk with a determined "stay away" strut. 

Summary in effect is while my mates learnt how to perfect their eyebrows, shave their legs and walk with that feminine bounce, I was too busy making sure I defended my weakling sister ( who by the way now fights for me ) so much that I became the tom boy and defender of the universe. While my mates were learning the perfect products for face contouring, I was too busy dreaming of building my empire and perfecting my "no man can help me with my shit" policy. 

You know when shit got real? When everyone around me began talking about what this chyker got them and what the other one promised to get them. Something had to be wrong with me. Cars didn't stop to offer me  rides, guys didn't beg to take me for lunch or promise to fund my fun time. To make matters worse, my sister's leftovers kept telling me how they should have asked me out instead. No guy used DJ KHALED's voice to offer me money "to spend for no reason". I hated and still hate to beg so my broke states were usually so long lasting. Small secret, I even sometimes felt my mom was disappointed because I never had the chyker who would come to the house, offer  her money or buy her beautiful things. My twin was the star kid. Thankfully, we shared the same clothes so my cover was never blown. For the records, all of these stopped in 2016, my year of serious awakening and self realisation...

NOTE: I am taking the cue from my reader who feels my articles are too long. It feels so good to be back! 

Dear Aunty Miss, DO NOT BLAME MY EDUCATION!

I stood at Gwarinpa stand shortly after church service and happened to listen,quite angrily, as YOU argued about the latest gist that has assailed Nigerian media for the past few days.

In YOUR words; “The kitchen is every woman’s office. Don’t listen to all these women telling you to have a career as they will be the first to entice your husband with food…”  On and on YOU went but wait, Aunty Miss, you have shared your opinion so hear mine.

Somewhere sometime, a child was born. It wailed angrily in a bid to announce its presence. it was cleaned, swaddled and it suckled from that which gave it life. Oh yes, It was a healthy child and It was female.

Somewhere not too far away, another was born through the same process but it had a piece of flesh dangling between its legs, it was male.

Please tell me, was there a special handling for the boy? He was cleaned, I was cleaned. He was clothed, I was clothed. He was breast fed but so was I! Aunty Miss are you following?

He was enrolled in school and so was I. I came first position while he second. He pushed me and I shoved him. We were spanked and we both cried out in pain. Was his cry glorious? Perhaps a clarion call effecting a trembling of the earth simply to announce the first holy sin of another perfect creation. Was it so different from mine? Aunty Miss answer Na…

Likewise we were educated. The essence they told us was to harness our purpose. Then this must surely mean I was given one (a purpose) by the creator.

 So we spent several years acquiring skill and knowledge to harness this purpose and yet dear Aunty Miss, you tell me my office is his kitchen and his in the presidential office? How reasonable you must be!

 I ask again why did I bother my clueless head with Algebra, Pythagoras’ theory, Aristotle, World Knowledge, History, American, Chinese and German literature ? Why bother my brain with Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalysis, psycho linguistics, systemic grammar, chemical compulsion when Aunty Miss and the other Guy would happily point that my brain is volatile but can only retain culinary skill with a body that's useful only to satisfy his canal pleasure and of course pop out more entities like them.

Well Aunty Miss, maybe you are but  I am certain that I am not! I sacrificed several years of my life to education in order to have an opinion on matters affecting me. I got an education  for me to be more than a furniture to some man who is frozen in a 15th century limbo with others like him depleting their ignorance while living in the 21st century where women have grown to be Chancellors of States, bread winners, globally recognised writers, lawyers and even taxi drivers.

Let me share some of my education with you Aunty Miss. You are first WOMAN before being a wife or mother. Your role as a woman is to find your purpose in life, educate yourself, set goals and reach them. Get a career simple! And your role as a wife? Definitely to take care of your man as his role as a husband is to take care of you.

However Aunty Miss, you confuse this very simple knowledge as best as you can. You were not born to pleasure any man. You were born to cover a lacuna ; a void that needs to be filled on this earth and it would be a shame if you filled only the emptiness in his belly.

I for one would rather fill the emptiness in the world, his brain and his belly. Tell me about the other woman whose man decided to objectify before one of the most powerful women on earth. Was she satisfying his bed and belly when she travelled to garner votes? Was she satisfying his needs when she attacked a so called “big mouth” for opposing her man’s government ? So why must she now only satisfy his needs when she decides to speak the truth which is her opinion and is her constitutional right. Or wait, does our law forbid freedom of speech and opinion? I do not think so because if it did, you would have maintained a closed lipstickless mouth at the Stand. My point is, if you Aunty Miss can have an opinion, why can’t SHE have one too?

Rather than battle one of your own, YOU must learn to stand by us if only to end this era of misogyny and chauvinistic policies. We must educate these 15th century men living in the 21st century together that we are not made to pleasure them. We can have careers, use our education, enjoy the rights of airing an opinion and still cook ourselves nice meals which they are welcome to eat if they want to.  If you cannot do this, then do not blame my education, our problem is you!

PS: I'm sorry for my long leave of absence but I am excited to announce that finally, my twinnie has decided to join the blogging business! This beautiful piece was written by Nwogu Patsy and I am sure you enjoyed it as much as I did! Expect more.

DANFO DIARY : Catching The Personality Thief !

I love rainy season which is one reason I have not complained bitterly about how this nasty bout of daily rain has ruined my plans, style and made me lose extra pounds. Rain is  a pleasant occurrence only if you are in your bedroom snuggled within the duvet kingdom, relating with your pillow and  imagining it to be a member of the opposite sex. 

 

If you are unfortunately headed to work or some other place Lagosians like to fill up the roads for on a rainy day, I hope you understand that you are damned! The traffic becomes unbearable and the price of transportation doubles. Of course with the scarcity of Danfos and the multitudes piling up at the bus stops, pushing and dragging is the only way to get a comfortable seat in any available Danfo.

What a day, I said to myself.  I managed to get into a bus finally for double the price to my destination and not just any seat, the most coveted seat in a Danfo! 

As I settled in still savouring the taste of my victory, I remembered the steaming nylon of Puff-Puff  I had purchased on my way to the bus stop. Life seemed so perfect! My utopic moment was however cut short by an image that clouded my eyesight. I turned and saw him  hanging by my side of the door.

He was too nicely dressed to be one of these hooligans that parade Iyana-Ipaja and enough for me  not yell at. Just because I found him responsibly looking did not mean I was going to share my rare smile so I maintained my straight face whilst chewing my Puff-Puff ever so sexily. 

Like you already deduced, Mr Man wanted to rap about how much my beauty blinded him. In his twisted mind, the brother was actually chyking me. All I noticed was his struggling corrupted accent (a blend of Igbo and one of these confused American/British accent). Just when I thought I could no longer stand his jibber-jabber, the bus driver jumped in and the engine roared to life! As a sharp guy, my Nwanna quickly pulled out his designerless wallet and dragged out a complimentary card. He made me promise to give him a call but immediately he turned, I squeezed the crap and threw it out the window, feeling sorry for Lagos state roadside cleaners. 

Fast forward to today and I am at the bus stop where I met the annoying gentleman. I kid you not when I say that I had not stood for ten minutes before someone whistled in that disgusting Igbotic manner.  "Fine baby, wosupu" he said and I turned ready to give him my Karashika certified glare but what or who I saw dried every venom from my face and mouth.

 Uncle was standing all so impeccably dressed but this time with some shabbily dressed men, obviously transport company salesmen. It took some time for me to hear what he was saying to me and when I finally did, I nearly toppled over with laughter." Sister, na Sapele you dey go or Warri, Port Harcourt"?

Thankfully, my Danfo ride came so I gave him one last stare but with a huge grin and said " Nna ahia oma !"

GUYS, WHAT IF SHE ASKS TO SEE YOUR MANHOOD BEFORE TAKING YOUR RING ?

Did you hear that a Nigerian woman filed for divorce just one week after marriage because she could not stand the size of her spouse's weapon of creationtivity? Well, if you are Twitter savvy, you must have learnt that the issue caused quite a frenzy especially after Ghanaian TV host whose picture is delectably on the header of today's post disclosed her daddy in the Lord's opinion . Madam Jessica Opare Saforo claimed that her pastor strongly supports the act of peeping at the arsenal of the brother to avoid stories that touch after saying I DO.

DANFO DIARY: BY POPULAR DEMAND

The engine finally groaned to life after four able-bodied Agberos had pushed back and forth for some minutes. I was fast losing my cool. When will DANFO drivers learn to properly service their buses and fuel before picking up unsuspecting passengers? The man beside me began to complain a little too loudly in a manner that seemed like he was talking to himself but by the tone of his voice, he was clearly looking for contributors. He was on about the decadence of today's generation and how the Buhari  led government is the sole cause of whoring men, weed smoking youth, and irresponsible DANFO drivers. I honoured him with some seconds of my signature disrespectful eyeballing. Mamazeus has got no time for that, she was too hungry biko. To make matters worse, the woman by my right made no attempt to control her little girl who found my newly braided hair fascinating and would not stop tugging . I was seconds away from baring my teeth at the kiddo but nooo, hold in your demons, I told myself .

Fifteen minutes into the very uncomfortable journey, the worst happened. A middle aged man stood up from his seat, cleared his throat and started off his obviously well rehearsed speech: 

"My brothers and sisters, I greet you all in the name of the father, son and holy spirit.

my name is Doctor Chima Saint Andrews and I have bring here today the medicine that is on popular demand.
This medicine have cure one million sickness including jedi-jedi, pile , HIV and even cancer.


All wetin you need is to mix it with honey, Kaikai or the one dem dey call Alomo bitters. When you don mix am finish, you go drink one bottle and you go shit all the dirty for your belle.


As you see me so, I no fit lie. I am a doctor for over thirty-five years and I don cure plenty person from different sickness dem. I dey cure even low sperm count, vaginal discharge and other sex collected sickness dem. But make I warn una, pregnant woman no dey drink this medicine 
oh 

This medicine na Omega 360 and na 500 naira I dey sell am but because of say I carry church mind enter this bus, I go sell am 300 naira. Even if you get 200, I fit still find dash you. Na Christmas I dey do for una oh  "!


I also get...

The man went on about the different drugs he had for sale and I sat, staring at him asking what the hell I was seeing. Anyone foolish enough to buy the  tiny bottles of concoction was either having suicidal thoughts or truly bonkers.  I wanted to laugh out loud at how stupid he sounded but I held my tongue in check, let him give us an amazing show then sit down with his vials of poison.

I turned out to be the foolish one as to my utter amazement, people started ordering for his OMEGA rubbish. The anti-Buhari enthusiast beside me fell hard for it. Looking like one who had just seen a ray of light in the darkness that beclouded this generation and not wanting the magical drug to pass him by, he nearly jumped off the seat to grab a bottle that was being passed to an obese woman behind our row. When he was certain he had claimed the vial, he asked the drug dealer if the drug could by any chance work for diabetes and of course the magical drug could take away all types of diabetes in five days ! 

I felt like a Nollywood ghost. I was there but I could not call the man out for stealing from the clearly hypnotised  passengers. The fact that not one person was immune to the drama except my humble self that is, still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

After selling every drop of his magical concoction, he yelled excitedly  " Anthony Wa oh". I heard the Mountain of Fire prayer point sound track on speakers in my head. It was yelling my favourite part , " What are you waiting forrrrrr". "You have to stop this man before he gets away", I told myself or at least give my unrequested  lecture on how one drug cannot solve all of humanity's ailments... I tried to open my mouth but then I realized my stomach had not been stuffed with my compulsory Puff Puff dose ( Doctor's prescription)  so I sat back and continued to get high on exhaust fumes. Let it be said that I warned them, even if it never came out. 

 ** Singing**   ''PLEASE DON'T JUDGE ME, AND I WON'T JUDGE YOU...''

DANFO DIARY : SOMEBODY CALL EMERGENCY, I CAN'T FIND MY BOOTY !

As I write this, I am close to tears not because the woman who just sold lunch to me refused to add enough stew, stating emphatically that the price of tomato has increased but because I cannot seem to find any more buttocks to fit into my jeans. 

Everyone who knows me understands my unending struggle with my Chinese butt. You all know how squats did me a little good but that was till my DANFO rides started taking its toll on my precious BUMPER. I have nothing but love for my sole means of transportation but shey na like this we go dey dey ?

DANFO DIARY: LEARN LAGOS SURVIVAL TIPS FOR FREE IN DANFO RIDES !

 Well, not exactly for free, seeing that you will pay your bus fare!  Anyways, It all started with me paying too much attention to a conversation that was no way my business. The lady was distraught. She  did not understand why Lagos had to be so tough. Nobody seemed to care that she was new to the chaos called LAGOS. Her listener was also clueless on how to solve her problem. He kept repeating " It is well, you will get used to It", like that was supposed to automatically solve her feeling of alienation. I wanted to interrupt but I was too finely dressed to be asked what my business was so I continued pressing my Blackberry. Let her continue sleeping on a bicycle. Alright, alright, that was wrong so,  If you by chance find her, make sure she reads the next paragraphs. It would save her life in Lagos if I do say so myself.

HOW BEST TO MANAGE YOUR LIFE, PASSION AND A 9-5

   We might as well skip introductions and head straight to the point. Believe me when I say guys, I have learnt the hard way when it comes to managing my time and getting the job done. For some of us who manage a life, nine to five  and still want to run our passion, managing twenty four hours is an herculean task. Time just goes by before you can get a grip!