Jangolova (Part III)

October 4, 2003

While shaking her head in time with the music coming from the strategically placed speakers at the spot, Ivie directed the piece of meat from the other end of the toothpick into her mouth and smiled to herself in satisfaction.
She did the right thing.
Susana, Sunita, Sakobi or whatever it was she called herself was a weird woman.
She did not like the woman and the affinity the 'winch' had for any and all things relating to her father. Like her for example!
This morning, she received a courier from her; it was a parcel containing a birthday card, box of chocolate and a teddy bear.
She found seven hundred and fifty Naira recharge card inside the birthday card and a note telling her to have a blast!
She shuddered and rolled her eyes in disgust from the memory.
The lady never bothered to find out if she had a mobile phone to start with.
She shared the box of chocolate with her roommates, chucked the teddy bear in her laundry bag and sold the recharge card for a hundred Naira less to the woman at the call center close to the buttery. Adding a little extra from her hidden stash of money, she decided to splurge.
She was pulled out of her reverie by the emergence of a female apparition from the direction of the toilet. She dropped her toothpick on the plate and tried hard not to stare but damn the chick was pretty!
Decked in sky-blue low waist bell-bottomed jeans, a pink tank top and matching sneakers, she looked like the girl in Sean Paul’s ‘Get busy’ video. (That is if she traded her ‘million braids’ hairdo for a closely cropped weave and her pink Barbie doll themed outfit for a black and white one with longer sleeves). The chorus of Alex Zitto’s ‘Baby Walakolombo’ slipped into her head, she let out a rosy chuckle. She watched as the girl picked a phone from her handbag, fiddled with it as though she were sending a text message and return it back to the bag.
The girl looked like she was at a loss for what to do with herself.
Ivie smiled.
Sadly, she left her camera at home. She was going to ask-whine-beg or plead with the girl to seat with her in her booth.
She would make a perfect date!
Grabbing a handful of change from her backpack, she dropped the bag on the seat to keep the space and bounded to the direction of the ‘lost girl’. Stopping to compose herself, she slid behind her and tapped her shoulders.
Startled, the girl let out a tiny shriek and spun around but busted into a laughing feat almost immediately at Ivie’s impish wave and cheerful face. “Hi.” She offered. “ I am Ivie, do you mind seating with me?” Flipping her braids over her shoulders she blinked and dragged her gaze away from the direction of the entrance. She tried not to look anxiously at the gate and planted a smile across her face. “Nope, not really. In fact, I’d love to! It’s my birthday today.” As though on cue, 50 Cent’s ‘In da club’ came over the speakers. She looked at her sharply, they exchanged glances and chuckled. She continued. “I was hoping my boyfriend would come.” She blushed. “Well, he is not really my boyfriend. He has a girlfriend, she is in Warri! He calls me his special friend. I love him and I’m spending the rest of my life with him.” Realizing she was blabbing she kept quiet. Ivie giggled. “You don’t have to explain, today is my birthday as well!” Her eye’s widened in amazement. “Are you serious?! It’s my boy-” she stopped herself. “Its my friend’s birthday as well. I’m Isi by the way.” She offered her hand Ivie took it and covered it in a warm handshake. “Pleased to meet you Isi.” Giving in to the urge to check once more, she tilted her head slightly and looked towards the entrance again, after about two heartbeats, she let out an excited squeal. “He is here!” She pointed to a tall dark man alighting from an 'okada' parked beside the gate. He was dressed in a tee shirt, faded ‘dirty’ jeans and had a tennis band around his right wrist. She bounced on her heels and tapped Ivie repeatedly in elation. “He is here!” She clapped her hands together, ran to the man and proceeded to jump on him. He caught her around the waist, clasped her in a tight embrace and twirled around. Still holding onto her, he let her slip to her feet and planted a noisy kiss on both her cheeks.
When she was done fussing over him, she linked her hand through his and pulled him to the booth were Ivie was now seated. “Ivie meet my future husband Sesan.” She giggled and slid into the boot dragging Sesan with her. “Sesan meet our birthday mate Ivie.” She turned to Ivie. “Sesan has been here on company assignment for the past two months." She smiled proudly at him and continued. "He is planning to quit that and start a company of his own! Still he wants to run back to Port Harcourt and leave me here all by myself. In a weeks time!” She punched his thigh causing him to grunt in pain. She grinned wickedly happy with the result of her onslaught. “But lucky for me, I’m graduating November! I’d work my service to Port Harcourt so we can be together.” She smiled cheekily and batted her lashes at him.
Sesan rubbed his assaulted thigh and gave her a meaningful look. She let out an unladylike grunt followed by a giggle. Ivie cleared her throat to get their attention and added brightly. “Hey I’m finishing November as well! Are you in Uniben?” Isi nodded. “Ekewan campus. Fine and applied arts, I’m going to be an interior designer. I'd do Houses, offices, events venues, Aso rock name it! How about you?” A waiter in a faded orange tee shirt with the name of the joint crested across the front came to take their drink order. Sesan suggested they share a bottle of wine and mix it with soda.
They agreed.
When the waiter left, Ivie continued. “I am at Ugbowo, sciences. I applied for a postgraduate certificate in science communication; I want to be a wildlife journalist. I wish I could show you some of the pictures I’ve taken; I dropped off my last roll of film at a lab in GRA on my way here.” Isi frowned and looked at her. “Aren’t you going to do youth service?” She rolled her eyes in aversion. “I am of the opinion that youth service is a total waste of time. Anyways, I will participate though. I just turned 20. The masters program is for eighteen months. When I’m done with it, I’d come back and serve the fatherland.” She placed her left palm across her chest in mock reverence and added. "I promise" Isi exclaimed. “Ah! I turned 20 today as well, so we are birthday mates as well as age mates. I like you Ivie, we should be friends!” Feeling neglected, Sesan let out an exaggerated cough. It caught her attention. Pushing back the braids that had fallen to her face, she turned up her nose at him. “Don’t mind this one, he couldn’t wait and be born the same year as us, he is an old papa.” She made a face and stuck out her tongue.
A car surged into the car park and screeched to a halt about 10 meters away from where they were seated raising dust in its wake. An overweight lady tumbled out of the driver’s seat, banged the door shut behind her and charged straight to the bar. She stood in front of the counter and took to hitting the top as she spoke “Where is that witch working here? Where is she?” she reached across the bar and grabbed the barman's shirt. Wrapping her fingers around it, she used it to pull him closer until she had him in a firm grip. She caught his left hand and begun twisting it. Not wanting to fight with the woman, he remained calm until he doubled over in pain. He whimpered. The woman ignored him and called out. “Witch, better come out and confess if not this man’s death would be on your head.” A smallish looking waitress ran out from behind the door that led to the kitchen, fell to her knees and pleaded beseechingly. “Ma please leave am alone, e no do you anything.” The woman left the barman and in a few strides was balanced on top the smallish girl. She began to hit her and pounded her repeatedly with her knuckles, knee and clenched fist while demanding she confess.
Isi got up and ran to the lady with the intention of pulling her off the girl, Ivie and Sesan joined her.
Together, they managed to pull the woman off and drag her away. Eventually the security on ground came and escorted the woman back to her car.
Sesan stood guard until the woman was out of sight.
Isi helped the girl to her feet, led her to their booth and eased her into a sitting position while Ivie went to look for and bring back a bowl of water and a towel to clean her wounds.
The girl surveyed Isi in gratitude and whispered softly. “Thank you ma.” Isi stroked her hair and winked. “Its okay mami. Take the afternoon off! Join us, we are planning a party.” The girl smiled shyly, put her hand under the table and into her pocket and brought out something. “I no get present for all of unna but I swear, I no go forget wetin you do for me.” She handed what looked like a broomstick to Isi. “My mama bring am as she come from yonder. We dey use am change something.” She pressed it in Isi’s hand and continued. “You light am, when the fire catch you go blow am breeze till e off. As the smoke they blow, you go say the things wey dey your mind one by one, as you dey talk, you go count am one, two, three until four. When morning reach, na so dem go dey happen.” Isi smiled and put the stick inside her handbag. “Thank you mami!” Sunny Neji’s ‘Oruka’ started playing she gave a lopsided grin and nodded her head to the music. Patting her handbag, she added with a chuckle. “Cool wish thingy, I already know what I’d wish for.” She looked pointedly at Sesan and wriggled her eyebrows suggestively at him.
The girl got up and genuflected before standing straight. “I wan go, unna do me well today. That madam no be ordinary madam. I help am do something but she take her mouth change am spoil. She no come like am as e happen come think say if she kill me, e go favor her. As you see say death no be my portion come give me second chance, when I sabi finish, I go make sure say your second chance too go happen.” She gave a final bow and returned to the kitchen.

October 3, 2013
Her spoon fell to the floor and gave off a resonating clang. Letting out a sharp gasp, Ivie blinked and surveyed her table-mates. They looked like they were slowly coming out of a trance.
Still seated in the booth, everything looked the same save for the now empty bowls in front of them.
Sesan dropped his spoon face up on the tabletop and hooted in amazement. “Oh boooi! What was in that pepper soup?” Isioma dropped her spoon beside the plate, let her right hand fall on top her left hand which was nestled on her lap and sat up straight. Talking to her laps but loud enough for the others to hear, she spoke as though she were counting her words. “ I did it, I remember now.” She looked up and met Sesan’s quizzical expression. “I remember you.” She turned to Ivie. “You too Ivie.”
She brought up her left hand and examined her wedding band as it glinted in the sun.
She smiled wanly. “My wish came true.”
Ivie looked perplexed, with slight frown lining her forehead she ventured. “What are you talking about Isioma?”
Isioma flinched at the sound of her full name.
Very few people called her that these days.
Memories forgotten, they were returning to Ivie as well.
She folded her left hand into a ball, brought up her right hand, used it to cover her clenched fist and placed it on the table.
As she spoke, her face turned blank and her voice devoid of emotion “We were close in a different life, about ten years ago. I dated Sesan and you were going to be a big shot journalist.” Sesan scoffed and relaxed on his seat. He toyed with the toothpick holder in front of him. “How can I date you and not remember you? Was it a spiritual something?”
Isioma shook her head in objection and continued to talk. “The Joss stick might have had something to do with the otherworldly but our relationship was real. I was crazy about you, I think you were as well." She paused. "I was never sure. We were going to have a baby.” Sesan flared up, shot out of his seat and tossed the toothpick holder away. “This is bullshit. Rukky put you up to this right? The bitch is evil.” Ivie flung out her right hand and caught his elbow stopping him from leaving. She tightened her hold on him and tried to pull him back to his seat. “Please seat down, I don’t think she is lying.” She placed her left hand on his forearm and continued to speak. “ I think she is saying the truth, I believe her." She studied her for a second and continued. "I stopped believing in myself a long time ago, I still feel as though I missed something. If she says she remembers, please seat and let her continue.” He remained standing, breathing heavily with the heat of his anger radiating from his pores. She tugged at his elbow. “ Sesan please?” He ignored her. Giving up, she released him and let her hands fall to her side and waited for him to leave. He did not. Instead, he pushed the soup bowls towards the center of the table, picked the toothpick holder from the floor and returned to his seat.
Ivie waited. She tried to understand the images returning to her mind, tried to make sense of it all before tuning to Isioma.
She placed her the fingertips of her left hand lightly on her forearm, with a voice bordered by fear of the unknown, she inquired. “Isi, what worked?”


... to be continued

Potty Logic

If you went “What the hell?!” on seeing the picture, you can half imagine my elder brother’s reaction when after calling out my name for a couple of minutes and searching for me in my regular hiding holes, he came to my room and stopped short as I waltzed out of the toilet with said item on the really pretty saucer.
At first I wondered why he was looking at me like I had sprouted chicken feet, was airborne and using thousand Naira notes as chop sticks to eat goat poop.
Then, it clicked.
I laughed so hard that I came close to dropping the saucer along with the bewildering item on my freshly laundered sheets.
When I stopped shaking so hard from laughter, he cautiously came close to me, examined my bounty and left the room with an incredulous sigh.
After controlling the urge to give into another fit of laughter, I dropped the saucer on a stool and went on about my business.

A couple of people at the end of the year decide to take a break and leave the hustle and bustle of city living behind for a few days.
Some travel out of the county and go to either exotic or questionable locations, others go to their holiday houses within the country (a few people in this category have to hold a series of meetings to decide which “holiday home” they would retire to) while the rest return to the states from which they hail from; also referred to as their villages.
It is when you live in a city rich in smog, traffic jams and head splitting street noise from dusk to dawn that you can appreciate the peace and quiet of the last mentioned location.

The fresh unpolluted air, friendly well meaning greetings from neighbors and the magnificent starlit skies at night might shock you initially but after a day or two, it becomes something for the “happy moments”.
With the rate of indiscriminate industrialization going on in the country, unworthy road vehicles and the ability to change a “stop work” sign with a few Naira notes, I often fear that in Nigeria 10 years from now, children would have to refer to story books for pictures of open fields, fruit trees and butterflies.

At the moment, I still have a village.
I count myself lucky.

Among the things I look forward to in my village are the structures that defy time and stand till this day, the do’s and do not’s of the land (…when giving a gift of yams, you either give 3, 5, 7 and above never 2, 4 or 6) and the assorted traditional delicacies which include *Ikpekere, *Oka bi ize weh, *Oli



and the not so traditional roasted groundnuts in their shells
* I am very sure my ancestors have gone 360 degrees in their graves at the bastardization of my mother tongue; I hereby beg their forgiveness.
*Ps:
To the nice reader who asked me what happens when you fart in a swimming pool, I’d like to first start by saying Oseyi is not short for ask.com (notice the absence of the preceding A and dot com in the name?) and then go forward to reassure him that the pool water will not change color around him (to my knowledge, that only happens when you pee in the pool).
For the record, it is very wrong to pee/piss/take a leak/ pass out urine/make water in a swimming pool.
You should never do that.
Seriously!
What happens when you fart however is that the gas, travels around your swimming suit (like a warm caress on a mildly sunny day) and comes up to the surface of the water as air bubbles.
So, unless you have a logical explanation for having loads of air bubbles around you, I do not think it is also a good idea to fart in the pool.
I hope by my kind efforts, I have been able to satisfactorily answer your question.
Have a lovely weekend and do not think of monkeys
- Oseyi

Living Flavours!

Random Do’s and Don’ts for the Yuletide season

Do not:

1. Hang mistletoe (or anything that suggests “kissing allowed”) in your partners abode especially if he/she resides in a “high traffic” space

2. Feel low because you think everyone has it better than you. That person is human after all and he/she would die one day.
Oh and looks can be deceiving as well!

3. Forget the reason for the season, it is a beckon of hope and celebration of the relentless love God has for (all) sinners.
Share the good news!
You should spread warmth and love to family, friends and associates (even those you hate)

4. Keep complaining of how bad things are! What have you done to fix it?


Do:

1. Sing a happy song, dance and laugh. If you can read this, you are alive be thankful.
2. Return a friendly greeting. Be courteous and polite; what goes around comes around.
good people still exist.

3. Ask a question when you are not sure of what it is. Assumptions can lead to certain death and that’s a fact!
4. Say it if it is important, listen to the “horses” version and accept the truth. On the other hand, keep it to yourself if it will not have a positive impact.

Know your ingredients…

1. Phosphoric acid: used as an additive to acidify foods and beverages. It’s the stuff responsible for the acidity of soda!

Other uses include; for the removal of rust, dental cement, electrolyte in phosphoric acid fuel cells,

removal of hard water stains in construction trades and as a pH balance in cosmetic industries.


2. Gelatin: a colorless slightly yellow transparent brittle protein formed by boiling the skin, bones and connective tissues of animals (especially pigs).

Gelatin can be found in: cake icing, glazes and cream.

Also in shampoo, hair conditioners and lipstick. Dairy products, canned hams and nail formula. Other uses include: clarification of wine and photography.

3. Xanthan gum: fermenting corn sugar with the xanthomonas campestris bacteria makes xanthan gum. The result is a slimy goo that is then dried up and ground to a fine white powder. This common bacterium is responsible for frequent outbreaks of dark spots on the leaves of vegetables. It is harmless to humans. Xanthan gum is used in salad dressings, dairy products and cosmetics.

4. Sorbitol: is an artificial sweetener that has about one third less calories than sugar.

It is a popular chewing gum ingredient that is sought for its ability to bring down cab count. Sorbitol can also be found in: diet soda (soda again?), toothpaste, mouthwash, cigarettes, laxatives and tobacco

5. Carmine: aliases include; carmanic acid, cochineal, Natural Red 4, crimson lake. It consists of a mixture of crushed female beetles. The part of the insect that contains the most carmine is the abdomen (it houses fertilized eggs).

Carmine is used to artificially dye foods red, purple and pink.

Carmine can be seen in fruit juices, energy drinks, berry punches, ice-cream, yoghurt, candy fillings, chewing gum, eye shadow, lipstick, powdered drinks, blush, eyeliner, ketchup, artist paint, crimson ink and cloth dye.

(So it turns out I have in my possession items which contain all five interesting ingredients... Yeay me?)


... To be continued

* If i feel like sha

Because I Said So!

Having a cold shower early in the wickedly cold morning is not funny.
Not funnier is finding out (after the wickedly cold shower) you left your towel in the other room because you first of all (*do not go down low) dropped it when you quickly threw on a shirt to answer the door for your over zealous trash collector and then later became so much in a hurry to make it a little earlier than late to work that you ran to the bathroom almost immediately and braved the ice cold water.
Running naked with water dripping down your back might look sexy, appealing and hot in the movies but in real life, it is *@#**ed! (pardon my french).

Then there is Daniel!
Daniel is a rambunctious 13 year old from Imo state, Nigeria.
He made me speechless for all of 20 seconds when he told me point blank that a woman's place is in the kitchen.
When I had my wits about me, I got up from my perch, pulled out a seat for him and invited him to parley with me.
Further discussions revealed his mother as the source for his convictions.
She told him that in the kitchen lies a woman's power, that if the husband were to take that from her, she would be powerless.
So basically, my 7 years in the university was a complete waste of time as my life ambition ought to be dreaming of the day when that special man would take me into his house to lord over his pots, pan and silverware.
Daniel can make a sandwich, does not like beans and wants to be a lawyer when he grows up.

Yesterday, when I got in late and was asked why, I said under my breath that it was because there was juju on the road.
Today, I stopped by said juju and took a picture of it

Tied around a stick are pieces of red cloth, snail shells and a very short broom.
I do not know if the snail is still in its shell or out with friends but examining a dangling snail on a lonely bush path did not seem like such a good idea at the time.
It appears that putting a nice friendly signpost with a "do not disturb" does not quite work for everyone.

The thought of Friday scares and excites me because I plan on doing something very (very) naughty.
It involves fluids, flashes and latex.
I am curious as to whether I'd do it or chicken out last minute.
What do you think?

Yeah since I mentioned it and cant now seem to get the song out of my head, here's Olamide!

He did his own version of azonto with the song "First of all" - freestyle. The track gets me every time. Heck get down low if you want to!!

- Oseyi

See Fada see Oyibo!

Sunday!
I swear, Sunday crept in on me and I was not prepared.
Today is even Monday!!
O how time flies.

Things I did not do Friday

1. Get carving knife.
2. Use my mind to clean the house (did it with a broom instead on Sunday)
3. Get a good reason for not attending the wedding (went and had a *to be continued blast!)

When I was much younger (the age when my father #especially when I was ill and refused to accept food of any kind# would convince me that diced pineapple was a special type of ice cream that will melt in my mouth after I ate it) my Uncle P told me how the word Oyibo (oyibo was slang for a white man i.e light complexioned skin that changes color to suit the present emotion - embarrassed: red, sick: green, cold: blue, etc. I say "was" because now, thanks to "skin toning, highlighting and lightening soaps and creams, any one can be an oyibo, ask Izy!) could be easily interchanged with priest.
There were so few that whenever you were to see a priest, he was most likely to be a white man.
Saying "see fada, see oyibo" then was like saying "six and half a dozen" now.

Sunday:
The message from the pulpit was about the coming celebrations; Christmas, boxing day... the new year! (For those too busy hustling to notice the weather change).
How we has humans strive to perform better when we know there would a suitable reward for our labors, having expectations and working towards a goal.
It would have been a perfect Sunday if earlier in church, I was not doing battle with the demon of sleep who pulled down my eyelids when ever we were asked to sit.
All through the struggle, I felt like part witch that went for convention during the night and part "Okpo" who spent the night "servicing" high end clients but, to God be the glory, I prevailed!
After having almost sprained my ankle form walking into a pothole that wasn't there initially, I returned to a house without power supply and washed my legs with the last drop of the water I paid mummy F to source and fetch for me.
It occurred to me that good roads, electricity and pipe borne water could pass for rewards for hard work but unfortunately, we as a people (children of a country over 50 years old) are still "expecting".

Saturday:
Was a blast, ooooh am in lurv!! Would talk about it next time.

Is it just me or to cockroaches now feed on camphor?

- Oseyi

Dream factory complaint form

I can confidently say under oat that in the last two weeks I have not seen, listened to or perceived horror movies of any sort so when twice in one night, I was awoken at "unholy hours" by first the feeling that I was not the only one in my bedroom (it felt like a vampire was saying prayers before meal) and next being dragged home by a lioness as dinner for her cubs I begin to wonder just where dreams come from.

My Friday night is best forgotten; how a day can nosedive from being promising to stark raving depressing is beyond me but happen it did and live through it I did (special thanks to "monkey man" for chasing away the Friday blues, you get a banana! *wink*).

Hello Saturday!!

Things to do today

1. Stop trying to use my mind to get rid of the cobwebs in the room and get friendly with a broom.

2. Either come up with a foolproof excuse for not attending the wedding or find a dress that would not shock my "christian sister" or make me look like an "mmgbeke" (the last part is more important).

3. I should get a good quality carving knife, never know when the need might arise.

4. Get up from bed!

Talking about getting up, how come there are no longer talks about increase in global warming, ozone depletion and the need for conservation?

Has the environment suddenly righted itself or have we made less important things our priority?

There used to be a song taught during my primary school days about how kids and everyone should learn to Reduce, Reuse and Recycle.
Musicians and people in the entertainment industry promoted healthy living and things good for a growing child, but as I write this, "kpakurumo", "your waist" and " make I knack you akpako" keep replaying in my head.
Self destruction, objectifying women and lawless living has been made to look cool.

I'd end this with the lyrics and link to a song by a gorgeous, beautiful, talented and vibrant lady Ty Bello, she was on to something, enjoy!

- Oseyi

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBOFGDFyz1I




"The Future" - Ty Bello

VERSE 1
We are the future
We are the dream
We are the nation
We are part of this

Yes we are so amazing
That’s the least we shall be
At the heart of the nation changing history

BRIDGE
How can they say that we are finished
We have just begun
When we have no where else to run to
We have no where else to go

So get out of the way
Out of the way Of the land of our dreams
We are the nation we are part of this
We are the nation we are part of this

CHORUS
Ooooh, Carry the song
Carry the sound
The future is here
The future is here
Goodbye yesterday
Tomorrow is now for the taking
The future is here
The future is here

VERSE 2
I am the future
I am the dream
I am the nation
I am part of this

Yes I am so amazing
That’s the least l shall be
At the heart of the nation changing history

BRIDGE/CHORUS
The future
The future has
The future has come

Paper or Plastic?

One of these day's I'd build up the nerve to go the store beside the shop where I grind tomatoes in the market and ask if they have 2 dozen pregnant flies, a tortoise's first dream or the eye balls of virgin frogs.
I mean, for a "spiritual shop" I would not expect any less from them.
It wouldn't surprise me if they have a working POS machine on the premises and the attendant asks me if I'd like the pregnant flies wrapped in paper or plastic.

But until I grow a second pair of kidney that would enable me work the liver to allow me walk into a "juju" store, I guess I'd keep walking past said store and wondering what else they have in stock.

Oh! And how many of the people I have come across so far patronize them .


Today's lessons:

1. Garri Ijebu and stew will never pass for a satisfying plate of "swallow".

2. When the love of your life introduces you as "my er- friend" you can be certain that you are on a very "long thing".

3. Never fart in the staff room when there are less than 2 persons present (or it is likely that you will not be by yourself in the staff room for long).

4. The person that came up with the idea of "if you miss someone, call" was on some sort of cheap high.


I believe soon, Nigeria would be ours. You can either agree with me or go and hug transformer.

What did you do today?

- Oseyi

Bugs to taste

You can not begin to imagine the disappointment I felt after having successfully devised a way of keeping "bole" hot for longer, I set the table before me armed with a chilled sachet of pure water and my trusty blackberry phone (to snap my food before eating it; this seems to have taken the place of prayers before meals) only to pop open a "brand new" bottle of ketchup and jump back in surprise as winged insects scuttled out.

The seriously "9jan" part of me wanted to use a spoon to remove the insects and continue eating but the health wary me who couldn't figure out how live insects got into a sealed bottle of ketchup decided to close the bottle back, insects and all and eat my bole "without" t'was a sad evening for me me and my bole I tell you.

I promised to wow all and sundry with my next post but due to cases that involve casting out demons, shining my eye's and stalking men, me and my pc have been having an estranged relationship.

All this will change ( hopefully -gulp)

The idea of Salt, Lime and Stranger things is to (aside from that which the name implies) try out different flavors, mix to match, say whats on my mind and on the minds of those who dare to think it.

I am 1st an African, among other things so do not expect me to shun where I am from.
On occasion, I could decide to be a boy or a girl depending on my mood, nothing do me, na me get my mouth.





- Oseyi