Dear diary

So that’s how one scantily dressed musician took my favorite cookies and turned them into a euphemism for sex (or something like it).

There I was minding my business (sort of) and looking for food to eat when my attention was caught by ‘Oreo’ boldly crested across the TV screen. I halfheartedly continued the task at hand and begun stealing glances at the TV wondering what was coming next. I looked away for a bit.
When I looked again, there was a bowl of said cookies on screen with a man and woman looking like they were about to do ‘grown up things’ in the background. By now I was salivating for the cookies and decided to perch on the edge of the sofa curious to know what was coming next.

That decision was my mistake.

The rest of the song is a blur.

The end of it all is that now I can’t honestly look at a piece of Oreo cookies without wondering

a. If that’s sugar or Iyanya’s #### lying snugly between the cheeks of the cookie sandwich and
b. If I’m about to lick, bite and chew Iyanya.
Like seriously?
I mean why?
Why Oreo? Of all the desserts, confectioneries and treats, it had to be the one I like!
To make matters worse, so people like me can’t make up excuses for him or say he could be referring to something else, he made sure he had Oreo samples splattered all over the video. I’m sure if I watch the song again I will find more Oreos in sublime locations.
What ever did Oreos do to him? Why oreo? I mean there is the whole McVities brand family to choose from – hobnobs, digestive, shortbread even short cake amongst others. There is Maryland cookies, Danish and if he wants to go the Naija way, there is Noreo, Coaster and the mother of all mainstays – Cabin!

Why Oreos? Why? Why? Why???!

*Pause here for dramatic rant*

At the end of the day, I ended up eating one kian yam porridge that had a hint of vinegar, no onions, plenty fish and tomato puree.
The height of the porridge was when a white French-ish (he speaks fluent French and struggles with English) Chef cleaned out his plate with the conclusion that the food was spicy but good – bon!

Which brings me to another entry; the day I wandered towards yonder.

It would have been a regular normal story if it had not involved a yellow man, a red taxi, a cold bed and an impulsive urge to er… wander?

... To be continued

hiatus

/haɪˈeɪtəs/
noun (pl) -tuses, -tus
1. (esp. in manuscripts) a break or gap where something is missing
2. a break or interruption in continuity
3. a break between adjacent vowels in the pronunciation of a word
4. (anatomy) a natural opening or aperture; foramen
5. (anatomy) a less common word for vulva

Derived Forms
hiatal, adjective
Word Origin
C16: from Latin: gap, cleft, aperture, from hiāre to gape, yawn

- Collins English Dictionary - Complete & Unabridged 2012 Digital Edition
© William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins
Publishers 1998, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2012


Now that’s over with…

In my opinion, I have always argued that “wetin concern agbero with overload" will be the price increase you will have to pay per extra kilogram he is being made to haul. That is if the agbero being referred to in the above quote is the one that chases you with wheelbarrow or ‘baco’ bags forcing/urging you to give him your groceries to carry for you for a “small” stipend. If it is otherwise, you don’t have to accept this argument. like I said, it is my opinion.

This was going to be a really cute story of how one mother of an infant tied her wee baby on her back and ran to knock on the door of another mother of an infant (who due to the combined effect of the heat and the baby's restlessness had already tied her baby on her back after stripping said baby to a tiny cotton chemise) and told her that NEPA people where out side cutting their shared power supply line.
The story halted at this point because mother 2 was confused. She remembered sitting with her husband a few days back, keeping him company while he paid the bill online. She stood rooted to the spot counting her fingers to make sure she got the days of the week right. By the time she came to and got her legs to function again, mother 1 was standing outside with her stamped NEPA bill trying to explain to the mule headed gentlemen (one on the pole disconnecting the line, one in the car looking like a sickly getaway driver for a heist and one looking into space while the mother spoke) that they were not owing any payment so did not warrant their actions.
Mother 2 watched the proceedings from a distance because she knew since they paid online there was no stamped NEPA bill to show.
She nodded encouragingly at mother 1 supporting her in her mission from afar.

The cuteness was actually imagining a horse and a donkey getting together. The particular word to describe rest of the story eludes me.

The questions:

1. Do they know it is unsafe to keep cutting and reconnecting power lines?
2. Do they see the connection between constant cutting of power lines and electrocution of innocent homeowners and bystanders?
3. What type of spirit will push them to go ahead to disconnect the line after proof of payment has been tendered? Tendered by a mother backing a heat-disturbed baby for that matter!
4. Do they sleep with both eyes closed at night or do they find someone else to lay the blame on… the devil maybe?

Will remain “for the gods to answer” as they say.

Where my candle sellers at?!

Imagine that

I stood like that for almost 10 minutes wondering what my neighbor was doing with furniture in the trunk of her car. With the ongoing strike, I wondered…

1. If she had decided to change profession or was moving on to greener pastures?

2. If she were moving away, would she tell me goodbye or just disappear?

3. Why she choose today of all days to move furniture?

4. Was the furniture new or old?

5. Was she bringing it home to use as firewood?

6. If she preferred pussycats to puppy dogs?


I would have continued to stand in front of the house barefooted with my hands over my head and legs bent into a perfect C if not for the cramp that was beginning to develop in my neck from straining to investigate a situation that was clearly none of my business.

Before then, I had decided to make a report of my latest inquisition but one thing lead to another night came, morning came… today makes it about 5 weeks since then.
At that time, I took it upon myself to uncover the bitter kola conspiracy. I titled the report: ‘Bitter Kola – the handy nut’ and listed some of the benefits “I was told” could be derived from chewing it.
They included:

1. Mosquito repellant
2. Medicine for cough
3. Immunity booster
4. Alcohol sweetener
5. Libido enhancer and
6. Snake repellant.

Sadly before I could investigate further or confidently share the information, bitter kola became the cure for Ebola alongside bathing with salt in scalding hot water. Information to which my response was "Hian!"
While on the Ebola topic, take time out to visit this website: www.ebolafacts.com it actually does help to be informed and educated. The site explains what Ebola is, the symptoms of infection, how it is transmitted, discredits myths and lists basic prevention techniques. It is updated regularly and has an easy to follow interface. Kindly spread the word and eradicate ignorance where you can.

Finally if there is animal control in Port Harcourt city, I’d like to report a case of identity crises. For about 14 months or more, a goat that believes it is a dog has been terrorizing residents in the area. The goat’s manifestations include; chasing after cars, grunting menacingly at people/small dogs and attempting to bite humans. I am appealing to the concerned party to look into this matter.

In about a week or more, I will be ready to look into the bitter kola conspiracy once more. If you have alternate use of said item not listed already, kindly inform me. Until then, stay safe and informed.
Cheers!

Stop, wait a minute!

This is me pushing against the current, standing at the door to July and wondering how it got to this.
Yesterday it was May, I had put up a sticky note to "call Ugo" who was initially the only person I knew born in the Month of May (this is the 1st year I haven't called, texted or put up a smiley on his Facebook page).
Before I got a chance to do the 'belated birthday dance' it was June 1st along with the routine barrage of broadcast messages stating the obvious and asking you to 'forward this if you love Jesus'.
Few days after this unbecoming tradition I was first making a fuss, stressing over my dad not being able to have a proper birthday celebration

(I believe: 1. Birthdays are special 2. Are to be celebrated, no matter how quietly 3. Should be marked with something nice like a card/gift/treat or some legal sane act.) Then reminded that my oldest niece, her twin, my sister and my youngest nephew were born not so far apart within the same month and finally juggling party invitations from a clutter of friends inviting me to celebrate with them.
It was when I realised I was moving, putting up pictures on BBM, texting and calling every other day to give my croaky rendition of 'happy birthday to you' I stopped to count 9 months back on my fingers and tried to understand what it was about the harvest season that caused the June baby boom.
It's June 30th today, epiphany eludes me still. Which brings me back to my present position.

Holding on to June.

It is the middle of the year for crying out loud!
It should be at least a day longer like January or December not just start and stop abruptly like a confused car battery. Speaking of cars...
I'd like to send a shout out to the driver and mobile policemen and in both the white and black Hilux trucks with FG licence plates who took one-way not because they had to but because they have 'the power', came out of nowhere and drove straight for my father and I.
You see there was a ditch nearby and we easily could have driven head first into it, shattered the windscreen with our stubborn skulls, flown for few seconds and finally learned if all dogs go to heaven but it turns out the power I serve is greater than the power they have.

Daddy dear held on firmly to the car steering with trembling fingers and kept repeating "I didn't see them" in a shaken voice, he didn't notice my amazed look at his stunt driving abilities.

(* note: seat belts are quite useful)

After confirming we were all alive, he snapped out of the funk and was back to his regular self looking forward to reading the news while munching on groundnut and sipping from his cold glass of beer.

This month I met people, I made new friends.

I watched a couple of drama presentations on stage, went to the movies and I haven't thrown a tantrum over my missing mister (yet).
There have been weddings, deaths and births.

In all these I say thank God.

...

...

Ah well, I guess it's time to move on.

This is me stepping aside and looking forward to the rain and sunshine.
July can only get better.

Cheers! !