Monday, 30 June 2014

CeeCee...



Have you ever been to Eko-Idumota on a Saturday to shop? Ever been to the Trade-fair arena at Badagry on any day at that? Even 3rd mainland on a Monday morning! I used to think queues plus large crowds were only found at bus stations(especially on those Monday mornings and at the close of work); Petrol stations (those times of fuel scarcity or when it is rumoured and folks are just reacting to information). The only other times I've seen such long queues are in actual traffic, market places like Mile 12, Yaba and the likes when everyone( cars and pedestrians alike) is practically at a standstill...brushing shoulders as they pass.

Maybe these are not the best scenarios to allow play in your heads as you imagine all the craziness, but what else can be likened to those clustered mills of people at the roadside at every minute of the day, coming out of their expensive autos on major expressways just to buy one thing...corn worth N500 or less! Do you ever wonder? I wonder o. This Corn Craze is a shocker. Every time I travel either long or short stretches, the crowds are always there...towering above 'mama Nkechi', crisp notes stretched out in the droves. Be on the look out henceforth...try observe too. See them in their head gears, suits & ties with absolutely no shame whatsoever- this is not to imply there should be shame attached to buying corn on the road side. After all, I stop to buy fries (what we popularly call dundun and akara) almost every other weekend.

CeeCee, my choice pseudonym for Corn Craze.

Shockingly, it isn't just a 'Nigerian thingy', the Native Americans as well as many other cultures throughout the world love it. Although in this part of the world, we often associate corn with the color yellow, it actually comes in host of different varieties featuring an array of different colors, including red, pink, black, purple, and blue. I'll sure love to eat the pink someday...that's the girly colour for sure and I am female so don't blame me. In my poetic element I wrote this eulogy to a rare one...no rhymes intended, it's a free verse. Enjoy!

 Corn. Corn.

Our friendly fibre

Highly nourishing to our digestive tracts

Amazing grain that you are

Who dares call you plain, staple food or just mere snack?

Our long, unique, phytonutrient-rich food

The surest source of Manganese

Carotenoids leads the way; lutein, Zeaxanthin, hydroxybenzoic acid and protocatechuic acid...

The strongest antioxidants known to the specie 'man'

Corn. Corn.

Its diverse carotenoids is highly nourishing, providing superb health benefits too

A sure protection against cardiovascular problems, against risks of high blood pressure and the many 'whatnots' attacking the blood system.

Eat it fresh, while on its cob. Eat it popped or off its cob, mixed with beans as my grandmamma would too.

All these is sure to increase your fibre uptake

Good fibres providing me with many B-complex vitamins...B1, B5, folic acid

All key macronutrients for stabilizing the passage of food; steadying sugar uptake into the bloodstream and of course spikes or drops in sugar level is avoided this way.

I bet you didn't know too as I just found out, another fascinating thing about corn...its potential antiHIV activity!

Lectins are considered special proteins found in virtually all foods and for that matter, in virtually all organisms. They have the ability to bind onto carbohydrates or onto carbohydrate receptors that are found on cell membranes. In the case of some micro-organisms (including the HIV virus), the binding of lectins onto sugars has been shown to help inhibit activity of the virus. An example of lectin found in corn which is called GNAmaize has preliminarily been shown to possess this HIV-inhibiting property. Of course, research is still on going so keep the protection-guard on; no needle sharing and all the things we've been warned against.

Should you consume corn? Yes! Absolutely. Join in the craze... 









Writer's note- dundun refers to fried yam while akara refers to bean cake
                       Mama Nkechi is a fictitious representation of all corn sellers





Friday, 27 June 2014

Worth Blogging Experience...



So for 'still juggling' me who doesn't own a car YET (soon to be changed :o), I decided to take a cab to go see a movie last weekend, basically because I had nothing else to do and all my friends were out of town(case of loneliness).

The usual practice for me is getting into a chitchat mode every time I am alone in a cab...(yes you guessed right!). Reason for my chitchat is so I can come off as nice to the driver with the hopes of squelching any bad moves on his part - *hehehehehe*I am not being negative here. I just learnt a very long time ago to always LOOK FOR A WAY OUT! Be it in a bus,car,boat...be sure to sit close to the quickest escape. So back to my story...

The driver and I started chatting, all in the bid to make him relax and laugh with me - as I have also come to learn from practice that this doesn't always work out best because some people will take advantage of your niceness! We talked about everything, from how lucky he was getting a passenger all the way from Sangotedo (somewhere after Lekki-Ajah), which is very rare as most people take cabs from Ajah or they don't at all, (sorry Ajah folks, I know you are posh). The smart driver trying to make me feel his cab charge was justified said he would have picked up someone along the way...that confidence (or was it tactics?) told me he must have whole-hardheartedly said his prayers before the start of work that morning.

As we approached my destination now, knowing I was somewhat safer from that distance, I decided to keep quiet and fiddle with my phone...catch up on all the 'dp updates', gossips and instagram updates that I missed out on.

Swipe. Swipe. Swipe...more news

Next thing the guy chuckled loudly beside me and turned to me saying:

Driver- "Sorry o sister, I'm just curious o. Would you as a graduate marry someone wey no be graduate?"

Of course, he wasn't referring to himself and I...get your mind out of the stinking gutter!

But I had that perplexed look for a split second wondering what he was up to o. If he was genuinely asking me for my thoughts or if he wanted to link the discussion to ehrm....'us'.

Me - "It depends o oga. Is it that the person no go school at all or him never finish school?"

This question has been asked severally in clear terms and sometimes not so clear terms inferred from the 'caliber of people' who come your way asking for your hand in marriage and I daresay logic rules passion too many times.Truth is a lot of us wouldn't dare get hooked to such a person, either as ladies or men. I mean when you have people; family & friends holding the glass of scrutiny, checking out everything about you. Your partner must pass mustard! I have to hand it to some men though, for them it seems love supersedes all.

Does love supersede all for you? Can you marry a non-graduate just as the driver asked me! Please share your thoughts...

The Preying Praying Partner II








Thelma Thinks...: The Praying Partner 2 (TTRWT)- By Oyinlola Sobowal...: The  Preying  Praying Partner “Okay maybe it’s a bit of that…the never having time but there is so much more and he is o...

Wednesday, 25 June 2014

TABOO


How do I say these things?
When I know the hurt they could bring
How should I say these things?
Should I act, talk, write or sing?

Why do I feel these things?
The jolt in heart, the leaps, the springs
How dare I feel these things!
Isn't this the stuff that ruins kings?

But it's you I get to see in my dreams
The forbidden fruit in the midst of the stream
It's you that causes my mind to scream
When both my lips are held by a seam

First a strike, then a spark, now a burning flame
And my life is never the same again
Then the breeze; the wind of rains came
But the burning still remains the same

Wish it were just your beauty and enchanting dressing
At least I won't be on my bed now stressing
Wish it were just your brain and lovable person
Then it could be any girl who's good with her lessons

It's clear I'm destined to live out this pretense 
with smoke in my nostrils, flames in my lens
With a wish and a hope held in fretful patience
For that time and space where 'WE' will make sense...






Post Credit goes to Gemini Jay

Friday, 20 June 2014

@ 30; Single and a Pariah? III



Part I here 


Part II here

The Monday Meeting usually followed with an evening buffet graced by 'meeting attendees' in one of the patio on the ground floor; only this time a larger crowd had gathered to celebrate a revered man; a usual tradition especially for long-serving employees.
 

Music blared from the twin speakers while the crowd buzzed and chatted away. Jed, Beatrice, Walter and Prisca are to be seen angled together in one corner each wondering in his and her mind if Dara knew.
 

“Do you think Dara knows what’s going on”, Prisca spoke up again ruling the conversation, asking the very question lingering in their minds.
 

“We are about to find…” was all the words Beatrice could form as their gazes traveled to the entrance where Austin was being ushered in, Dara trailing behind and angling to join the other four.
 

Klink. Klink. The sound of spoon against glass.
 

There was a great hush as Austin made his way to the extreme front to make a toast.
 

“I want to thank everyone for being here this evening”, he started, his smile reaching his eyes as they drifted over everyone in the room “It has been a great pleasure truly working with dynamic, bubbling and intelligent lot. I must confess a part of me hates to leave, but there comes a point in every man’s life when sacrifices are necessary” a long pause. “Permit me please to celebrate another of yours. I know today is your day Dara, I apologize for stealing the show”. He curtsied, with his smile still as broad. “Would you mind joining me up here?”
 

That moment of awkwardness when you feel stunned too.
 

“How does one reject her boss in the presence of so many people!” she muttered under her breath looking pointedly at Prisca; like she had all the answers in the universe!
 

Ten quick steps got her head-to-shoulder with her soon to be ex-boss.
 

An impregnable silence it was…
 

Austin cleared his throat.
 

“I have a special gift for you; it’s a simple poem I wrote and I hope you’ll like too”. He took a step closer, his presence mere inches away...
 

“It was there
And it was clear
My desire was bizarre

It was the choice from the voice
It was a confession
Which led to my decision
That decision which is now an addiction

Philos it was
Eros was the cause
Cupid was the god

'You know who’ is the love?” his voice a tad lower
 

“You Dara”.
 

His gaze reaching her every core as he held her left hand in his burly hands and turned to the crowd.
 

“Some of you probably guessed already what this is about, maybe you are right” he chuckled aloud. “Dara and I have been good friends for a while now, but today before everyone, I ask with joy in my heart that you marry me Dara. It took me all my willpower to keep from answering your calls today as I would have given myself away. Come share the rest of your life with me. Be my friend always. Let’s navigate life and love together…”
 

A shocked and perplexed Dara took several steps back, shaking her head ten times per second.
 

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t do love. I can’t do love”, she chanted as she ran pass agape mouths and bewildered looks leaving a behind a flustered Austin….


***I hate to do this to you again! But I must continue another day...soon enough don't you worry***

 I got ya ;-)

Thursday, 19 June 2014


The Preying Praying Partner



Thelma Thinks...: The Preying Partner (TTRWT)- By Oyinlola Sobowale: Oyinlola The Preying Praying Partner Voice filled the air In the wake of the night it could be heard It was hers ag...

Tuesday, 17 June 2014

Behind these folds...

Recently, a dear friend shared some stories with me; of a husband bored of his wife just after childbirth and wives who show disgust at the sudden increase in their husbands' 'bellies' and sizes. I'm no judge but the gist inspired this piece as I hope it strikes a chord within you...



Behind these folds…
 

Is strength, immense wealth, no stealth
 

Is focus, a genius, no puns
 

Is wisdom, a king’s son, no dumb
 

Is a nurturer, a sure builder, not destroyer
 

Is a warm giver, a care giver, not a gold-digger
 

Is a rare gem, a real femme, not of caustic tongue
 

Is a rare gem, a real gent, not of fist and icy words
 

Is a clear thinker, a fair judger, not a torturer
 

Is a an achiever, a detailed planner, never a quitter
 

Is a true lover, a faithful partner, never for once bitter
 

Is a genuine friend, who tends, never condescends
 

Is a good doer, a law abider, not a rules breaker
 

Is a fun lover, not a night crawler nor a party pooper
 

Behind these folds…
 

Is him
 

Is her
 

Is you
 

…and me
 

Mere fat. Blubbery substance
 

Not a definer of who we are
 

Behind those folds are beautiful minds
 

Go show some love

Monday, 16 June 2014

If Music were a man


If music were a man...
 

He'd have a million one-night stands
He'd be picked up at clubs, bars on the streets, in fact everywhere imaginable


He'd be romantic; take me on long walks

on the beach and kiss me in front of the whole world
He'd notice me in the crowd and for 3-5 minutes, I'd be the only girl stirring his blood...
 

He'd make love to me daily, while he whispers sweet nonsense in my ears
He'd be my best friend
He'd know exactly what to say to make me feel better


He'd have a kind word for every mood

The perfect lyrics to salve my every wound


He'd be eternal, able to touch me, no matter how old he is

He'd feel my emotions; my happiness, pain, even my hidden dreams


He'd be present at the most important events in my life

He'd be my solace after a long hard day, working my ass off in a place filled with strife


He'd smile at me and I'd get lost in the beauty that he is

He'd rock me and hold me tight as I cry myself to sleep...


He'd be there when I lose people I love and when I make new friends

He'd remind me of people and make me smile or cry accordingly


If music were my man...


He'd lie to me

He'd never be faithful to me

He'd never know I exist

He'd walk right past me

He'd leave the party with someone else...
 

I'd have to share music if he were my man
 

I'd be incapable of making him stay with me


He'd be the player I couldn't make fall in love with me


But still he'd be unable to hurt me deep  enough to leave him

Oh! if music were a man...








Post Credit goes to 'Tomilola Parker


Monday, 9 June 2014

The temptress' best friend

Walking down the tree-shaded road,right down to work...they've been doing that for years 

SHe was her neighbour from next door

SHe's been her best friend since age four

a chubby faced angel with long hair,she always thought they'd be the golden girls

Their hair is all trimmed the same,brown contact in both' eyes

still they wouldn't spare her a glance

SHe gets all the guys,even hers

She cries deep into the night wondering why...

Men's heads turn even when they had dates on their arms

SHe gets warnings,never punishment...SHe only needs to smile

SHe's got them freezing like shallow pond in winter

the temptress could get away with anything,only needs to bat them 'lashes too

Until he said 'hello'...he actually spoke her name

she's all smiles and giddy because they connect

its just her he likes

they sit out and chat for long whiles

late nights spent knowing her

he comes late from work,still rushes to her

they getting so deep in love and she hoped somehow...

but of course the temptress wouldn't rest

her best friend is @ it again!

chumming up to him,the soft whispers of sweet nothings

the smiles & laughs & sultry looks

the jokes & gentle sway of HEr hips

it works every time,SHe has them purring in no time

Playpen through senior secondary

First year through convocation


SHe sure has character...it's called cheap stunts

this temptress never rested until SHe took away her man that ever mattered...



Writer's note - I hope i didn't confuse you with my 'SHe' and 'she' usage. It was the best way I knew to differentiate the friends without ruining the rhymes...'SHe' is the temptress and 'she' the best friend

Friday, 6 June 2014

What's the big deal about the WORLD CUP?


More ‘greens’ have filled the market space. Green bags. Green pants. Green shoes. Green caps. Green emulsions. Even Green chalk! Everywhere is green, with a minuscule touch of white.

The stores will begin to close early again. Maybe traffic will ease a lil bit- I hope so…Maybe then we can journey freely on Lagos roads. It also means passengers of danfo buses will have to hold tightly to their bags and for a lot of women, their head gears as bus drivers will be in a hurry to catch on highlights of games if not the entire match.

So what is the fuss about really?

The other day I saw my uncle dearest, Baba John as popularly called, lugging two 25-litre jerry cans obviously filled with PMS; sweating and smiling. His near black crooked teeth shining through like he had a gold medal around his stubby neck worth a hundred thousand euros. Come to think of it; I never really get to see the man in broad daylight despite the fact that I occupy his BQ! Okay, maybe it’s not that bad. There were those Sundays when he returned early from Church; but that was just twice a month at best. His business forage takes him far and far from Eket to Owode, and the neighbouring African countries where he gets his huge truck-loads of palm kernel oil which he supplies to food and pharmaceutical companies.

“Daddy John welcome”.  From under my Pepsi-canopy where I sit sometimes to unwind and reflect, I called out to him in greeting trying not to sound like the many half-educated folks in our big compound of smaller detached houses.

“Thank you Kenneth,” he called back in short breaths

I wished I could carry one of those for him but I lacked the strength and willpower. Still I offered.

“Let me relive you of one of those,” I said trotting behind him

“Ahhh…thank you my son, I’m sure you have some school papers to mark. Let me handle this as a big man” was his response as I smiled to myself, glad he didn’t take me up on my courtesy offer.

I stopped getting angry when people refer to me as a small man or imply it since my twentieth birthday because that is what I am- A wiry lad. At twenty four, teaching a class of senior students at Crescent High, I would pass as one of the students myself, as a junior student in fact! It still baffles me how I got that job teaching Physics to a bunch of gals and boys three times my weight and height.

Laughs and shakes head.

Baba John came out almost immediately with the same smile plastered on his face, whistling as he sauntered past. Next thing I saw was him carrying a third jerry can and I couldn’t help but ask…

“Daddy John, have you added crude oil trading to your line of business?” my confusion now obvious.

“Ha ha ha ha. Ahem…” he cleared his throat.

“No, I am only preparing for the next few weeks. You see, I would hate to run out of fuel while watching the world cup, not even this time around that Nigeria managed to qualify” his thumb and forefinger raised in the air forming a small circle signifying ‘managed to’. “So it is very necessary to have some reserved” he explained proudly carrying the last keg of PMS to his guest toilet turned store attached to the side of his apartment.

Meanwhile inside the living room…

Happy to be home alone, Mama John stayed glued to the TV watching the fourth part of ‘It is my throne’ on Africa magic. Her throaty laughter reaching the doorway as Baba John and Kenneth made their way in.

Rising quickly, her eyes darting to the wall clock above the Television set, Mama John reached to Kenneth to get her husband’s satchel.

Wife: “My husband, you didn’t mention you’ll be coming back this early from the shop. I haven’t even started making dinner!”

Husband: “Ehn…yes I know I didn’t inform you because you see I didn’t plan to myself but I decided last minute to make some quick purchase. Let me also inform you that this is how it will be for the next one month. I’ll be home earlier than usual so better to get my dinner ready on time. The Almighty World Cup starts in 8 days!”

Wife: "B…But"

Husband: “Wait now, lemme finish. There will be a few new rules in this house”

Curious to hear the new rules even though I wasn’t technically living in their apartment, I felt it was crucial to know too and so I perched on the farthest of the living room sofa…my ears standing.

Husband continues

“Rule numba one- The only times we will put on the generator in this house is when matches are to be aired. No Africa Magic, not even that your mundotelevision abi what do you call it…?”

“Numba 2- No parading or bumbum shaking in front of the TV anyhow when I am seeing a match. Hold your sons and stay with them in the room if possible, I know they love football like me anyways but tell them no bouncing on the sofa.

“Numba 3- The food thing. Odikwa very important. Let it be ready round the clock and no playing love in the afternoon, Mama John”, his voice dropping a decibel lower “but we can y..you know quickly enter room in between matches”

“I think that’s all for now," he straightened "For now o. if I think of anymore, I’ll inform you. Go get my dinner started now woman”

“C…come come,” take this match fixtures table and paste on your kitchen wall. Times and days have been highlighted so you can properly prepare.

Wife: “Me I don’t understand this your closing shop early for an entire month o, won’t your business suffer?”

Husband: “Let it suffer Mama John! Let it suffer! We are talking World Cup, you are talking productivity and sales. What do you think the savings are for?”

…and on and on my uncle went.

It is time to gather again in our favorite jersey colours.

Time to bite non-existent fingernails, gnash teeth and scream curses at lost opportunities!

It is time again to block roads. Have homes filled to the brim; clubs selling hot drinks in the highest quantities and hopefully party if Super Eagles win…

That’s the big deal about the World Cup. Up Eagles!!!



Sunday, 1 June 2014

Our Immoralities...their kinks


We sat in the shadowed hallway

On rafters made of fronds

That at any given moment of any day

Could break and let us fall

But what difference will it make with our bodies all mangled and torn


Still no help even with all our calls

We doubt the existence of life

Absolutely no sound from beyond these walls

Not of rain patters in this season of many rain, nary a squeaky sound of mice

Is anyone searching, our colleagues and neighbours maybe


Our captors in our cunts they belong

Mornings, in our drugged state are for us to sleep

At night-time they return for a bountiful feast, bringing more friends along

Glugging on our nipples till they sore, these creeps!

All the kicks and angry fists landing in between the deep-sated beastly moans



We traded our stories, in between wakefulness and drowsiness


But alas, are we different in the ordeal we are passing through?

Out there in the larger society today the depraved roams looking for victims

One can never predict the manner or nature of his iniquitous trap

Just like the two experiences from weeks ago...



An innocent ride down the road, he seemed nice…”why not”, I thought

A down-the-street drive of 10 minutes turned weeks in this hellhole

My immorality? He said I enticed him with the slits in my dress


A quick drop off of some urgent deliveries made earlier after he left the office

She accepted the offer of a drink only to wake up in this stink

Her immorality? He said she came at him with barely enough cloth covering her 'cleaves'


My story and hers, same with all of ours.

You judge us too?