Dear diary, today I went to the market.
Before I got there, I stopped at the bank - with all the fake news and rumours of security threats being flung about like ends of a woman's wrapper, I thought it wise to stock up for the long weekend and then some more.
Earlier in the day, before having a bath, I decided as far as dress codes went, I was going to be the anti-valentine .i.e. there will be no moving around town looking a pair of red pliers for me with my sexy giraffey-looking bow legs especially.
I decided on a preppy-ish look of dark jeans with a stripped bright blue and gray scoop neck top. I pinched on pin earrings to stealthily remove focus from my undecided haircut.
At the last minute, I pulled on my trusty black sneakers - if fake news people decided to manufacture credibility for their fishwife tales, I believed it wouldn't hurt to have the right footwear to bolt - .
As soon as I entered the banking hall, I saw red.
There were red dresses, bottoms, tops, shoes and even hair accents. It appeared even the bank staffs had jumped on the bandwagon as a majority of them were wearing branded red polo's.
I didnt realise there was an amused smile plastered across my face till a familiar face responded to my smile, called my name and ushered me to the faster lane.
Trying to make an effort to be in the spirit, I saluted the somewhat handsome fellow seated next to me.
He did not respond.
(In my teenage years, such acts were described as élá)
Few minutes later the fellow sighed and flung his hands in despair. He said he had been trying to do some calculations but hadn't been able to concentrate since he ignored my greetings.
I wasn't sure how to respond so I went with an "aah".
As a result of network issues the queues at the bank were long and un-moving. The gentleman took it upon himself to explain to me that this was because the APC political party were in the process of rigging the election. He wisely added that they needed to deprive us of internet so we would be ignorant of what was going on in the country as well as use the rest of it to ensure they produce enough dummy voter cards, comunucate with their minions at INEC and in the military. While trying to sell a better option (the PDP candidate) to me, he made sure he dropped news that he was an iPhone user (he had just broken up with his gf because she smashed the screen of said device), was a fun loving *wink* person and drove a jeep.
I thanked him for the informative session and proceeded to the market.
The gods must have been on my side at the market place because I got all the items on my list save for one within 5 minutes of my arrival.
I made my way to the last stop met a 60-something year old looking seller and learned I knew nothing about preparing one of my favorite native soups.
After promising me that her secret ingredient (it cost 100 Naira) would keep any man that tasted of it close to home she urged me to marry from my tribe and make more efforts to learn the language. I told her thank you and made my way home.
As I got ready for bed, I was at peace.
The day ended on a blissful note with a phone call that warmed certain delicate parts of body.
Oh and the soup tasted delightful too - there'd be no using it to keep any man though.
There were red dresses, bottoms, tops, shoes and even hair accents. It appeared even the bank staffs had jumped on the bandwagon as a majority of them were wearing branded red polo's.
I didnt realise there was an amused smile plastered across my face till a familiar face responded to my smile, called my name and ushered me to the faster lane.
Trying to make an effort to be in the spirit, I saluted the somewhat handsome fellow seated next to me.
He did not respond.
(In my teenage years, such acts were described as élá)
Few minutes later the fellow sighed and flung his hands in despair. He said he had been trying to do some calculations but hadn't been able to concentrate since he ignored my greetings.
I wasn't sure how to respond so I went with an "aah".
As a result of network issues the queues at the bank were long and un-moving. The gentleman took it upon himself to explain to me that this was because the APC political party were in the process of rigging the election. He wisely added that they needed to deprive us of internet so we would be ignorant of what was going on in the country as well as use the rest of it to ensure they produce enough dummy voter cards, comunucate with their minions at INEC and in the military. While trying to sell a better option (the PDP candidate) to me, he made sure he dropped news that he was an iPhone user (he had just broken up with his gf because she smashed the screen of said device), was a fun loving *wink* person and drove a jeep.
I thanked him for the informative session and proceeded to the market.
The gods must have been on my side at the market place because I got all the items on my list save for one within 5 minutes of my arrival.
I made my way to the last stop met a 60-something year old looking seller and learned I knew nothing about preparing one of my favorite native soups.
As I got ready for bed, I was at peace.
The day ended on a blissful note with a phone call that warmed certain delicate parts of body.
Oh and the soup tasted delightful too - there'd be no using it to keep any man though.
Happy Valentine day.
