Showing posts with label amenities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label amenities. Show all posts
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Pressing desire
The weather was wickedly cold!
The initial plan was to take a leisurely stroll on one of the muddy pothole infested roads which usually run through the streets and freeways of Nigeria but it soon turned to a game of "hopscotch" as I commenced hopping from one foot to the other playing virtual hopscotch with the “ankle twisters” aka potholes while trying to dodge dirty splashes from tire’s hastily meeting puddles as mobile road users meandered blindly through imaginary traffic in a bid to get… home?
Like though some invincible trainer slash coach was not impressed by my sudden athletic prowess as displayed in the impromptu workout session I was having, he decided to intensify my session. I was next presented with the curious task of finding “proper” sites to direct my gaze to as first one then another car parked in front of me to let out frantic male occupants who were in quite a rush to answer “natures call”.
It seemed like every twelve steps I took summoned both car and driver from nowhere, compelled them to divert from their initial destination and pee at my feet.
When the third car repeated this routine and presented not two but four occupants (all male), I had to stop, look about and survey my surroundings in case there was a sign or banner of sorts I failed to notice earlier.
Where I was coming from or going to on that wickedly cold day in June is something I hope to discuss some other day but for now, it is a hush-hush affair *wink*.
Before I keep mum, I’d ask no one in particular the following question:
Why it is okay for a man to whip out his “willy” when the urge rises and take a piss anywhere in public and not be judged whereas a woman discovered in a compromising position (say standing in a squat with legs apart – one slightly ahead of the other, skirts raised to a decent height with the fingers of her right and left hands lost somewhere between the folds of her dress) going about her business is frowned upon and in some places called dirty? Why cant what holds true for "Peter" not be applied for "Paul" (or Pauline in this case)?
Word of the day:
Toi·let!
pronounced /ˈtoilit/
Noun
A large bowl for urinating or defecating into, typically plumbed into a sewage system and with a flushing mechanism.
Get it?
Surprise – surprise! We are in the month of June, 6 months down the chute.
By this time in December (last year) the trending topic was “new year resolutions”, attitude and mantras for “twenty taa-teen” (2013).
Question:
a) Did you make resolutions last year?
b) Do you remember your resolutions?
c) How many have you accomplished and
d) What is holding you back from the rest?
I remember my TO DO LIST
I’d like to believe I’ve done 2 out of 4 *clears throat* which is quite fair based on the fact that I still have 6 months to get to the remaining 2 but then again, who am I deceiving?
Earlier this evening, I hurried past a man and his ram out for walk in the market in a bid to get a handsome bunch of plantain for myself before the “night shoppers” got to it.
The first thought that occurred to me was “is this the same man that had the goat from last week” the next thought was “is he happy?” I did not stop to deliberate on these musings, I had a mission to accomplish.
As I made my way home victoriously swinging my cute fingers of plantain snugly settled in the nylon bag the nice lady had sold them in, I thought of my resolutions for 2013 and wondered…
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
What's Myne (Part 2)

Baba Igho was an unhappy man. His crops were failing and his livestock dying.
With the land refusing to yield sustenance, one by one his tenants moved away.
Left with no source of income, His riches dwindled and in time he fell very ill. Spending what was left of his money on nurses and medicine, he could scant afford to live.
Seeing the state of his affairs, his only remaining and faithful servant Akpos (a young man he had rescued from a life of debauchery and decay) packed up what was left of his belongings (they fit into a medium sized Ghana-must-go bag) and said to him. “Sir, you have suffered enough. If you recall, you once told me of your beautiful daughters. Kiki owns a quarter of your land, you wed her off to a politician who held promise. You must not stay here and die like a brigand. Come, let us go to Kiki. She is your daughter who loves you to the moon and back, she will care for you.” Without hesitation, they setout and made their way to the other side of the land.
They travelled for a few days and finally got to the boarders of the estate.
Getting closer, they were shocked at the sight before them.
The place was in ruins; there was poverty and sickness in the land.
When they arrived at Kiki’s abode, she was in tears bargaining with tax collectors.
Her children were holding unto themselves in the background emaciated and crying from hunger.
She was aware of their arrival but paid them no heed. After she had begged for a little more to no avail, she turned to her father and pointed at him accusingly. “This is all your fault father. You never taught me to share or care for others. Look! My land lies in ruins. After I sold all my tenant’s crops and took control of their meager means of livelihood to feed my family, my neighbors abandoned me. Now, having no one to take care of my bills, I am in debt.” Looking at the children with pity, Akpos asked. “Where is their father, your husband?” Kiki laughed hysterically. “Husband? Which husband? I got married to a shadow! No wait, a honey tongued serpent!! That man made so many promises, promises he never intended to keep. He led the people on and gave them hope. Feeding them with lies, lies and more lies. When the people got tired of his deceit and empty promises, they smothered the light of hope and took matters into their hands. After he had gotten fat on the wealth of the land, the land turned on him, tore him to shreds and ate him.” she sighed and added under her breathe. “ I could not find even his bones to bury and it is your entire fault father.” Waving her fingers dismissively, she turned to Akpos. “Get this wretched man out of my sight. I barely have enough to feed my children and myself and you want me to care for him? Can you not see I have guest?” The tax collectors got up in shock and retorted. “This man is your father! In a way, he is also our father for he gave us the means to start our trade. As you have no pity for an old man in his time of need, what you have, we shall take from you. We shall give it to your needy tenants and then cast you out from your home.”
Akpos picked their bags, reached for Baba Igho and led him away. “Come” he said. “We shall go to Zizi.”

Baba Igho and Akpos embarked on another long journey to Zizi’s estate.
On nearing the land, they were awed by the beauty before them.
There was a huge wall which ran around the boundaries of estate and came to stop at intimidating gates in front. When approached, they were halted by trollish looking guards. “Who are you?” they demanded. “This is Zizi’s father!” Akpos cautioned. Eyeing them with uncertainty, the guards deliberated quietly for a while before turning to them. “Wait here.” They ordered. “ We shall fetch the mistress of the estate and bring her to you.” Baba Igho and Akpos stood at the gates and waited for the guards to return.
Towards evening, decked in dazzling attire and doused in sweet smelling perfume, Zizi came to them. She stood at the other side of the gate and spoke. “Oh my father, can you see how beautiful I am? I wish you could come over here and admire my beautiful land but my husband loves me for my beauty and hates anything that is ugly.” A look of yearning and sadness crossed her face, she added softly. “He spends so much time away and comes home only when he is able.” She dispelled the emotion with a shake of her head, brightened up and continued. “ He says he makes me beautiful and I am grateful for that. He is all I have you see and I work very hard to keep him. I cannot dare to let him return and behold your unsightly forms. Please leave the premises now. You can come back when you are presentable.” She turned her back to them and hurried out of sight.

Baba Igho slumped to the floor and lamented. “Leave me now to die like a brigand Akpos, I can take it no longer. My daughters break my heart.” Akpos pulled him up and shouldered him to the side of the road. “Come now, all hope is not lost yet. Your last daughter Mimi will never turn you away. We shall pass the night in that shade down the road and at dawn, we will go to Mimi.” Baba Igho did as Akpos suggested and soon he was fast asleep.
They were awoken at dawn by screams in a distance.
It was coming from Zizi’s estate.
It was Zizi.
A fire broke out about midnight and burned half the land to the ground. In Zizi’s bid to escape the inferno, she slipped on a tube of skin moisturizing jelly and fell to the ground scarring her now delicate beautiful skin. Her husband returned shortly afterwards, He took one look at her minor injuries and decided he could not live with such ugliness.
Faced with the reality of loosing her beauty and husband in the same day, she ran mad with grief.
Akpos packed their belongs and roused Baba Igho. “Come.” He coaxed. “ It is time to leave.”
The road to Mimi’s estate was littered with debris and decay.
They sidestepped refuse and carefully made their way to her abode.
A man who bore a striking resemblance to Mimi’s husband opened the door.
“Where is Mimi?” Akpos asked. The man laughed and threw the door wide open. “Come on in!” They entered the place and saw Mimi.
She was huddled in a corner of the living room.
Her hands and feet were bound and her eyes tied shut.
“Who are you?” Akpos demanded. The man laughed menacingly, sat down on a thread bear sofa and signaled to a scantily dressed female (there were a handful of them drifting about the house). She disappeared momentarily and returned with a tray bearing glasses of liquor, pills and suspicious looking powders. She dropped the tray beside him, disappeared for a while again and came back with another tray.
Squatting in front of Mimi, she cut up pieces of bread, coated it with some of the powdery substance and forced her to eat it. Some of the females came forward and picked a glass or tablet from the tray while the rest continued their confused roaming about the house. “Join me!” the man offered, they shook their heads declining. The man shrugged, helped himself to a glass and spoke between sips. “I am what is left of that woman’s husband. She terrorized me, pushed me and eventually broke me. Even after the music left my soul, she wouldn’t let me be. She turned me into a lapdog to do her every bidding. When my fans saw what I had become, they came to my rescue. They gave me a way out and took care of her for me. Now all she does is seat in that corner and cry, she tells me the drinks and drugs will be the ruin of me and begs to be set free but I will not be enslaved again.”
Akpos ran to her side and made to release her but people who seemed to materialize from thin air held him back. The man held a gun to the back of his head and whispered. “Touch her and you die. She is mine and mine alone. You are not welcome here, leave now and never return.”
Akpos went to Baba Igho’s side, held his hand and led him out of Mimi’s estate.
“Where are we going?” Baba Igho asked. “Back to your miserable life.” Akpos replied. “Your daughters have turned away from you in your old age and you have no where else to go. You shall return to the ruins you call home and die there like a brigand.” Baba Igho stopped walking. “That is not true,” he said hesitantly. “ I have not three but four daughters.” Akpos turned to him a flicker of hope crossing his face. “You do? In my years of serving you, you never mentioned a fourth child. Where is she?” Baba Igho bowed his head in shame. “I do not know. I stripped her of her inheritance and cast her out when she was a young child.” He reached for a broken branch lying on the road, picked it up and used it as a staff. “ Come Akpos, let us return to my miserable life, I deserve to die like a brigand.” He dropped the staff...
.... to be continued
Monday, December 3, 2012
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
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