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Category Archives: Memoirs

Back breaking clarity!

Back breaking clarity!

Two days ago, I was standing by the open boot of my car in a pair of cute heels, chatting away while absent mindedly lifting and arranging the boxes for the office Christmas party which was the next day. Just then, my village people struck! I twisted my back to an angle so I could lift and push an unruly box to the other side of the trunk when I felt the worst pain of my life and I howled like Tom getting a classic whooping.

I tried to stand up straight and the right part of my back hurt, I saw stars like literally. I walked painfully to the driver’s side and lowered myself gingerly into my seat, taking deep breaths while the sweat which had suddenly appeared threatened to blind me as it gushed down from my forehead in waves.

‘It’s probably a muscle strain or a sprain, take some painkillers and you’ll be fine’.

I nodded feebly as I put the car in reverse and started my homeward bound, very agonizing journey. You know how potholes can be vaguely annoying but quickly ignored when driving? Haa! Try driving with a bad back! It was bad enough that jolts of pain were shooting down my right leg and up my right arm as I stepped on the accelerator or turned the steering wheel to the right but those potholes had me screaming ‘Father Lord’. The pain was blinding and by the time I got home I was almost in tears.

I abandoned the baby girl life, kicked off my heels, managed to drag my handbag out of the car and limped to my bedroom. I have heard stories about lying flat on the floor when you have back pain but the thought of contorting my body enough to lower me to the floor filled me with palpable fear, I picked the bed and lay very still. Soon the pain passed and the sweating reduced and as my breathing became more regular, I picked up my phone with ‘kangaroo hands’ cos maami was afraid to stretch lest the pain returned. I actually thought I was getting better till I felt the insane urge to pee and tried to gingerly get up only to be rudely reminded that my body was not werking oh! I only had two options, pee in the bed or get to that loo no matter what!

Damn! I started thinking about the recent episodes of ‘Bob hearts Abishola’ and how Bob’s energetic mum had been dealing with being bedridden, started thinking about the story of ‘Sinbad and the old man of the sea’ and how Mr B would just be carrying me on his head everywhere! Then I thought about all the differently abled heroes I knew, the men and women who had learned to live their best lives regardless of their circumstances and a new respect for them rose within me. I thought of the zanku I hadn’t learned to dance yet and how I wanted to try the kizomba dance.

I thought about how I used to sway them hips and how I’d been reduced to walking like one of the old women in ‘Tales by moonlight’. I looked around furtively for something classy that I could use as a stick! I thought about how at 35, my baby girl life was being threatened into early retirement. Then finally I thought about my collection of heels!

‘No sweet Jesus, I cannot be subjected to wearing flats for the rest of my life please.’

Anyone who knows me, knows I’m crazy about shoes. I could already count at least four people who’d gladly come and share my heels assets with aplomb! Someone in University used to call me ‘height + heels’. Lol! Well some of us wanna touch the sky.

Sigh…I snapped out of my reverie, me that cannot even touch the edge of the bed in my current situation. Chei!

I made it to the loo and I could almost hear the furniture cheering me on as I took each pained step. Needless to say, I didn’t sleep all night and I couldn’t even toss and turn oh, just laid there like a log of wood, praying that cockroach would not choose tonight of all nights to climb me. Only had paracetamol at home and that didn’t even scratch the surface.

The next day, some dude who needed a favor at work woke me up with his calls, when I sent him a message that I was ill and my colleague would sort it out, he just replied ‘ok’. I rolled my eyes at the sms, what happened to ‘sorry’ and ‘get well soon’ and ‘take care’. World people! Anyway an alarmed colleague suggested I do an Xray and scared the living daylights out of me with her worst case scenarios. She wanted me to get to work immediately. Did I mention I work in another state? There was no way I was gonna brave at least a hundred potholes just to go get an Xray so I called the Orthopedic surgeon at work and described in great detail my symptoms, the location etc. He promised to send me a prescription and that I could do the Xray later.

That’s how yours truly was placed on several strong meds, one of which made me feel woozy from time to time. Ordered for some food, meds, company (my girl G) via my phone and even had that awkward moment where I was waving to the girl who brought the food, she was standing at the gate and I was trying to get her attention when some strange man in my neighbor’s house started waving back at me frantically. He was embarrassed and I was embarrassed, it would have been funny if I wasn’t in pain and wasn’t already dreaming of the rice, dodo and gizzard sauce I ordered.

Today is day 3 and I’m feeling almost good as new, I still can’t twist in certain angles though. I may even be able to attend Shiloh before it ends and who knows, be rocking heels by Christmas. Of course it helped a whole lot that Mr B returned from his trip and I could overexaggerate my pain and have him fawn over me abit! Don’t judge, nothing makes a princess all better like some pampering.

This incident gave me a whole new perspective about life and health. So many people have had their lives changed in an instant by a sudden illness or a dismal diagnosis or an unprecedented action and without forewarning or a backup plan. It’s tough, sometimes they have to be strong for their families even though all they want to do is fall apart. If you’ve ever been there or are currently in this situation I pray for strength for you, I pray for comfort and I pray for the will power to adapt, survive and thrive. Sending love and light your way…❤

If you have never been in this situation, don’t take your life or health for granted. Live your best life, have savings, investments and an insurance- nothing is too small and it’s never too late to start and be mindful of your health and activities. No one had ever warned me not to ‘lift and twist’ but after my back had issues I went online and bam! There it was all over the place! Warnings and more warnings and the degrees of injuries that could result from lifting and twisting. I think I was lucky, to be honest, it could have been much worse.

As Christmas draws nigh, please live life intentionally! Is your Christmas tree up yet? Mine is still in storage, Santa had better know I’m on bedrest, he should just nicely park the Lamborghini I asked for in front of my house and put the keys under the footmat. Daalu!

Have a great day Chutzpah fam,

Xoxo

 
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Posted by on December 6, 2019 in Memoirs

 

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Sisterhood of the traveling bras

It’s been a hectic 12 hours and I finally got comfy 3 hours ago. Well not too comfy because the chairs are hard and I am stuck for another couple of hours at the Dubai airport enroute my final destination.

I always wear jeans and a comfy top with a jacket for long trips, guess it’s the sensible attire for travellers. However this trip, I wore a strapless bra I had bought on my last trip to DC and the bra was giving me all shades of drama. By the tenth hour I felt like my bra and I had gotten into a fight and she was winning.

I was cranky, uncomfortable, held at ransom by a beige push up and almost believing I was gonna suffocate so I did the only logical thing. I stepped into the bathroom, removed the offending piece of underwear, heaved a sigh of relief and walked out a free woman. Bra safely tucked into my handbag.

It was 4am in the morning so I was gonna pretend I didn’t see the middle aged white lady gasp when I stretched out my hands to wash them and my chest peeked out from the straight confines of the side of my jacket- bulbous, bouncy and unashamed. Perhaps a nipple winked at her but who cares it was 4am like I said and the breasts still had two layers of clothing between them and the world so I shrugged and smirked and walked out of the bathroom- a renegade was born!

Now what made this experience epic? I began to take notice of lots of women in my ermm predicament. If you are an avid people watcher like I am, you’ll be surprised at the number of braless women at an airport. You can’t blame them, sometimes wearing a bra for a very long flight can be akin to wearing stilletoes and trekking! Awful and unnecessary besides no ones knows you there except for your travel companions and immigration!!!

So here are 3 life nuggets to glean from the sisterhood of the travelling bras:

1. The little things matter- many times we plan for the big events but it may be the little ones that get us in a pickle. Pay attention to details.

2. If you can fix the problem, fix it! Caring more about how you are perceived rather than what makes you happy and able to live a full, free life is no way to live.

3. You are never alone in a situation. Once you take a leap of faith you’ll be more than pleased to know you didn’t jump alone. You just didn’t notice them earlier because you were operating on different wavelengths!

Have a great day Chutzpah fam,

xoxo

 
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Posted by on November 6, 2018 in Memoirs

 

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Pointing Fingers

“A wise man once said that every time you point a finger to accuse someone else, your other four fingers are pointing right back at you…”

A friend of mine called me one day out of the blues that she had just lost her pregnancy and I experienced a rainbow mix of unexpected emotions. I was shocked and confused because I had seen her almost every day prior to that and had no clue that she was preggers. I felt sad and heartbroken because she had lost something she had wanted for so long. I felt hurt and betrayed because she hadn’t trusted me enough to confide in me till she needed a shoulder to cry on. For the time being I put my feelings aside and was there for her. I was everything she needed me to be.

It didn’t take too long however, to realise she wasn’t the only one that needed comforting. I called my mom to unburden my chest and she told me it was usual for some friends not to tell each other sensitive stuff like this because of our culture and the ‘you don’t know who is really happy for you’ mentality and that maybe the couple had reasons for keeping it in and I shouldn’t let it affect me. But it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. All my other friends had told me the news as soon as they peed on the stick and this friend had shed tears more than once that some other friend of hers had excluded her from the baby announcement and since some of her inner circle knew about it, I felt I had been deliberately excluded.

So I called up one of my oldest friends to whine about it and as I was going on and on about the seeming betrayal, I let it slip that all that time I had confided in this friend about the procedure I had done, and she had never once felt the need to trade her own secret and voila, the next instance something unexpected happened. My dear friend cut me short and asked when I had the procedure done. I told her and as it dawned on me that I had goofed, I felt the embarrasment creep up my neck. I had kept the details from my friend even though she had initially suggested it and asked me about it once or twice. I hastily replied that I wanted to be sure the procedure had worked and was waiting for the right time to break the ‘good’ news which unfortunately never came. I tried to convince her that I hadn’t excluded her for any negative reason and that it was just more convenient to tell my other friend because she was going through the same issues that I was. Right then it occured to me that I had been feeling hurt and betrayed when I had done exactly the same thing to my other friend!

So many friendships have had bad blood mar them because one friend hid a new man, new job, a pregnancy, an engagement, a wedding announcement, a party, a promotion, a hangout or some other opportunity or good news from the other friend. We have done this to protect their feelings, prevent jealousy or bad blood, protect our good news from frenemies (and village people) or just to keep our matters private but most times we inadvertently hurt someone who has only good intentions towards us. The worst part is that the friend doesn’t know which of the above reasons you had for excluding her and many times emotions make people assume the worst.

So how do you control the dissemination of your private affairs without sacrificing a good friend on the altar of secrecy? Here are 3 points to note. This points don’t apply if you deliberately excluded the person for any reason.

1. Be consistent. Let your friend know exactly what place she occupies in your life. Every person has different circles of friends. If you have 2 best friends, don’t tell one and leave the other out unless it is a known fact that you are closer to one of them. If you tell only your inner circle a secret, a friend in the outer circle won’t feel excluded unless you have given her reason to believe that she was part of your inner circle.

2. Be sensitive. Don’t assume that your friend understands why she wasn’t included. Take out time to explain to her and to gently tackle how she may be feeling. Invest more time, attention and love into the relationship so that you restore the balance that was there before the big reveal and so that she is assured that she wasn’t excluded for a negative reason. This may take time, don’t be in a hurry to move on unless you are sure she has.

3. Be fair. The world is so intertwined that many times we get as good as we give. If you are a private person then don’t get mad if someone else keeps their information private. If you planned to keep the information private but a couple of people already know about it, tell the people who are important to you rather than someone in your inner circle hearing it from a random friend outside or finding out she was one of the few people who didn’t know. Remember gist gets around pretty fast.

Life isn’t static. We will always have our own secrets and not be privy to someone else’s. Even though we may be inadvertently or intentionally excluded from certain circles of trust, we must be careful not to point fingers for with someone else we may have unwittingly crossed the same line. People have different characters and if you choose to be friends with a secretive person, you must own this and not get upset when the person is just being herself. You must also understand that some secrets are kept out of fear of past personal failures (they don’t want to jinx it) and not fear of what you can or can’t do to ruin it.

Finally, if you choose to keep a secret, do it for your own reasons and not because of advice from some random third party who doesn’t understand the depth of your friendship and has made you suspicious of the very people you trust. Your friend knows you and as a result can anticipate your reactions and odd behaviour hurts even more.

Nobody is perfect, may the force of friendship be strong within us and may forgiveness, love and understanding guide the ones we love and the ones who love us!

Have a lovely day Chutzpah fam,

Xoxo

 
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Posted by on May 23, 2018 in Memoirs

 

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The Rumble!

It rumbled and I quickened my pace, breaking out in a cold sweat, my house no where in sight. I felt another wave of regret wash over me as I broke into a run. I slowed down when I noticed the lascivious look on the face of the guy walking towards me. I hastily tried to gather my composure and give him my best version of disdain. It rumbled again even more loudly and I gave up, panic replaced the forced disdain on my face. I needed to get to my house before I was swept away, engulfed in the tsunami that threatened me. I started jogging. 

“It’s marvelous that you are keeping fit, I see you girls every evening but jogging is much better than walking. Yeah that’s it…”

I could barely offer a polite smile at the intrusive stranger. He had no idea that my world was about to collapse. That the sweat was not from exertion but from anxiety. I needed to get to my house on time!

21….22…..23

I took five deep breaths in close succession and continued counting. 

You can beat this…don’t succumb. My t-shirt was drenched in sweat. I heard the rumble again…much louder this time and my heart sank. I kept walking because I was too afraid to imagine what would happen if I stopped. I just kept walking…

I do not remember getting through the gates or turning the key in the lock or even ditching my clothes as soon as the door slammed shut. I only remember the relief that washed over me as I sat on the toilet and with one last rumble, let go…

I’m never touching milk again! Said the lactose intolerant girl for the umpteenth time. 

Sigh…we never learn!

Are you a little like me, thoroughly in love with something that’s so bad for you and willing to risk it all for a little taste every single time? Do you make penance afterwards with dozens of promises soon to be broken at the slightest whiff of temptation?

We all have our weaknesses but saying no to them is a skill we must acquire and master or else one day we’ll be so engulfed that we won’t make it home on time. 

So what’s yours? A secret addiction? An extramarital affair? Whatever it is you need to kick that habit before it ruins all you hold dear. The thrill and the danger are not worth the cold sweats, nervous shakes and dread that usually follow and perhaps like me you have become accustomed to this weakness and a little hardened, ready to bear the consequences like a Gee, remember that you may have to pay the wages for those sins very publicly and like me, almost crap in your pants in the middle of nowhere all for the love of milk…

#kickthehabit

Have a lovely night chutzpah fam,

Shout out to all the lactose intolerant people in the world.

Xoxo

 
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Posted by on July 24, 2017 in Memoirs

 

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When neighbors cross boundaries

Yesterday evening we had some friends over and as we saw them to the door, we noticed my neighbors were by my door chirping away excitedly. My landlord is not aware of this set of tenants as hubby and I never informed him of their illegal occupancy. They have a little shelter just by the door and hubby and I decided to live and let live and contribute our little good to the world by letting them stay. Anyway last night one of them must have been feeling pretty excitable because the next thing he was in my house right after I had just confidently assured my friend that our neighbors never ever overstepped their boundaries! Hubby was on the other side of the door and slammed it shut so that neighbor number two wouldn’t tag along, leaving our friends and I outside shouting unsolicited advice about the best way to get rid of the uninvited guest. 

‘Put off the lights’

‘Chase him towards the door’

‘Don’t let him get past the sitting room’

His partner turned her head mournfully from side to side, awaiting the lynching of her rogue love. And finally le boo was able to get the intruder out of our house and I think the adrenaline in my veins went down a notch.

Yes I have two cute birds living in a nest of twigs just at the entrance into my house and yes it took me a while to get over the fear of creatures flying at random in my personal space. They had never misbehaved till last night and now I’m not sure if I can trust them anymore. Real life neighbors are a bit like that. Unpredictable! I have had all sorts of neighbors in my 30- something years on the planet and have decided that boundaries must be set from the get go so that cordiality is not mistaken for foolery. It’s odd because I grew up watching the British series ‘Neighbors’ and singing ‘…that’s why good neighbors become your friends…’ and I have had a few friendly neighbors however erring on the side of caution is still best.

People generally are as unpredictable as those birdies. They allow curiosity get the better of them often to their detriment. Why that bird who had watched us open and close our front door every day for over a year decided that he’d try to get inside that evening beats me but I can understand where he was coming from. So many of us are on the outside looking in and waiting for just the right moment to take the leap that would potentially change our lives but can we take a moment to think about what boundaries we may inadvertently cross in doing so. Who would be hurt in the process or get burned? Whose trust would we have to betray? Sometimes crossing certain boundaries may leave irreparable damage so tread carefully in your relationships, your businesses and life in general. 

Have a great night!

Lots of love chutzpah fam,

Xoxo

 
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Posted by on July 23, 2017 in Memoirs

 

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Natural Hair Karma!

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I haven’t written a memoir in a while.

I’ll be the first to admit that. Well I got married (stale gist) and a lot of well meaning people were fast to point out that MizChutzpah would have to put a lid on her memoirs since no well meaning married woman should ever be caught talking about her personal life on social media!

Well I’m not sure they were referring to tales about my unruly hair oh cos if they were- biko thou judge and jury no vex, but this tale must be told!

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You already know my hair is one kain, read here if you have forgotten: this my hair sef

Anyway thanks to relaxers and good weaves I had been managing my hair jejerly and a lot of people even gave me pretty nice compliments because the hair upon all its shakara cleans up real nice on good hair days! And then the advent of the natural hair journey movement changed my life!
I’ll admit that in the early days I was like lailai ti lailai, I am team relaxer for life (who doesn’t like sleek straight oyinbo looking hair?) and the way some of the girls were wearing the hair like class captain badge sef and not even packing it properly just put me off.

Then came the fights on social media, name calling and what not became the order of the day. The naturalistas trying to make everyone feel like they betrayed their forefathers simply because they put relaxer in their hair! I would just sip my tea like Kermit and buy my Dr. Miracle while enjoying the debate on Bellanaija! I couldn’t imagine having to struggle with a comb every single day for the rest of my adult life. I had it all figured out truly until I stumbled into this whole no relaxer movement pretty much by accident!

I had bought my relaxer (it’s still sitting on my drawer) but couldn’t find the time to go to the salon (not a DIY freak abeg). After I was forced to remove my weave (when hubby is almost going to kick you out of the bed because the weave is starting to smell), I contemplated what to do with the dew hair. One morning I packed it to work as best as I could, hoping I’d breeze in and breeze out before anyone really took notice though truth be told for some reason I was feeling myself that day (the hair was fine sha) and got some natural hair compliments (odd) though one babe told me to go and relax the hair sharply. Anyway I kept putting it off till it became a thing somewhat (thanks to wigs, they are the real MVP).

Fast forward a couple of months and there I was, bored on a Saturday night in March 2016 and watching youtube videos when I stumbled on a DIY big chop video (shey I told you I wasn’t a DIY person). Anyway my hands got all itchy and I knew I was about to do something stupid, I left hubby in the sitting room and like a naughty child went in to play with my toys (toys being a sharp pair of scissors, my hair being led like a sheep to the slaughter and my mirror) and chop, chop, chop I went, feeling like Edward Scissorshands and somehow deriving some morbid satisfaction from seeing my hair fall to the ground. I walked quietly to the sitting room to confess my sins and reverend father was not pleased! His first reaction was a horrified expression while he was gathering the memento to utter his first words. Feeling cocky I gave him the scissors to finish the job since the middle of my hair looked like a rat had had a field day there. Being the supportive man he is, he quietly added barber to his cv and tried not to say the words he so badly wanted to say. I wore a hair band to church the next morning and I absolutely hated my hair. I won’t lie I sat on the toilet seat after church and cried my eyes out till it was time to make lunch. Nothing eats at your self-confidence like having hair that can’t pack!

Fast forward a couple of months, a million trial and errors and endless wigs not to mention the fortune spent on hair products half of which I couldn’t or wouldn’t use and my hair and its hunger for hair products had become a standing joke in the house. The hair had grown to a point where it could be joined with plenty attachment to make a base for weaves and I was living my life almost the same way as before the big chop (team weaves and braids), to me it was not a movement, I had nothing to prove. I wanted to feel beautiful and whatever helped me achieve that was my business alone! I’d like to give a shout out at this point to closures, whoever invented them should just come and collect her award because my hair was too short and natchy to peek out from a weave so that really wasn’t an option! Anyway since I was playing for both teams, I knew one day karma would catch up with me (it kuku has and I didn’t die so I shall continue this hair bigamy unrepentantly forever)!

About the karma incidence…

It was my birthday and I needed to renew my passport. The day before, I had put my hair in twists so that it would have a nice curl by the morning (thanks to youtube I had become a natural hair stylist guru of sorts plus the hair had grown plenty oh). Unfortunately my forestry reserve of hair was having the birthday blues and refused to be tamed so I put a hair band around it and left it looking the way natural hair looks when we don’t comb it (it’s still a style) and feeling the urban chic, I waltzed on cloud 9 to the immigration office. There was a short queue for the data capture and the woman in front of me caused quite a scene with her gorimapa ‘Amber Rose’ inspired blonde hair/head and when they refused to take her pic with her head looking like that, she had to beg random strangers for their wigs till an older woman obliged. If you have never borrowed a stranger’s wig, without a mirror or comb and had your picture taken the very next second for a passport that you would have for 5 years and a pic that would contribute to your luck at the visa office, then you cannot fully understand this woman’s ill-fortune. People found it so ludicrous they could barely contain their mirth. I won’t lie, I probably chuckled a little bit because really what if the wig had lice? (Mi o wa ku). Anyway that’s how it was my turn oh and I got up feeling fly and sat at the photo booth only to hear the worst words ever said to me: “Madam hoff ya scarf, no scarf fo pazzpot”. First of all WTF, second it’s a hair band, third WTF….sigh….why me? On my birthday of all days? How would I explain this cave woman passport photo? Anyway I could see from the impatient look in the man’s eyes that he wasn’t joking and he couldn’t be bought or swayed so I jejerly ‘hoff’ the thing and allowed my wild mane go free. I couldn’t even get myself to look at the picture on the screen. I looked like ‘I woke up like this’ but not flawless like Beyonce, more like the ‘I didn’t comb my hair before bed taadaa’ kinda look. #villageheadmaster #rugged #africangeh #villagebelle. I probably died a thousand times (the kind of death that your yeye lungs continue to collect air like they cannot sense the dire situation).

Anyway please don’t ask to see my passport and if you work in a visa office and happen to come across a hair with a face , I would like to just put it out there that I wasn’t trying to make a statement, the hair just refused to behave that day…here’s a toast to the next 5 years rocking my fro in my international passport! #karmaisunkind

Have a lovely night Chutzpah fam,
And next time you think you are having a bad day, look at your well coiffed hair in your passport photograph and thank Jesus!
xoxo
🙂

 
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Posted by on September 12, 2016 in Memoirs

 

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The City called Chaos!

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Valentine’s day has come and gone and while many remember fondly the day and it’s sweet memories, others are glad it’s in the past. I spent the weekend attending a friend’s wedding in the ancient city of Ibadan and I must say those hilarious memes about Ibadan peeps don’t even tell half the story. 😉

Driving into the town, we were in awe of the okada men who drove their rickety bikes like they were Harley-Davidsons giving motorists a heart attack every time they pulled a stunt. I couldn’t help blessing Fashola and Oshiomole for curbing this menace in the metropolitan areas of their respective states. We checked into a hotel in Bodija supposedly one of the good ones and we were welcomed by a rude receptionist who’d probably just realized she was the side chick judging by her surly demeanor. It was Valentine’s day and the six of us checked into three rooms on the same floor eagerly anticipating the rest of the evening. We had a good laugh about all the people wearing red or a touch of red, from the vulcanizer to the bus conductor and the bride and groom had not been left out, their engagement colours being red and gold.

The men had threatened to burst our romantic bubble by announcing that they were going for the groom’s bachelor’s eve party that night with none of their wives in tow. We begged, cajoled, threatened and cried but all our pleas fell on deaf ears. The men imagined scenes from ‘Hangover’ and ‘Last Vegas’ and were not gonna fall for anything we were saying. When we realized they weren’t budging we revolted and announced we were gonna have a ladies’ night, wear our sexiest and paint the town red without our significant others. Alas we forgot we were a long way from home. The first disaster was the absence of running water in the entire hotel. We couldn’t take our baths or flush the toilets, it was absolutely ludicrous. The staff ended up fetching buckets of water for us to our consternation. Then in a bid to cheer us up, one of the bell boys announced that the hotel had Val presents for every room and so we trooped downstairs to claim our pressies. The side chick receptionist looked mildly surprised and then crestfallen when she reluctantly handed us the gifts, I guess she was hoping she would end up with one of them at the end of her shift. Well if she had been nicer I would have given up my ‘hamper’. The so-called hamper consisted of some sweets, onion crackers, nasco biscuit, an artificial rose and a bottle of cheap vodka but like they say it’s the thought that counts and these people needed us thinking sweet thoughts since they hadn’t fixed the water problem!

The guys decided to accompany us to shoprite. I think they were either worried about the hot dresses their wives were wearing or the fact that our itinerary included a movie at shoprite, dinner at a Chinese restaurant, suya, liquor and shaking our ukwu at any club we found before midnight! Anyway as far as they were concerned Ibadan was unsafe and they needed to keep us safe. I was still scoffing at that concept when we noticed that the women in the car in front of us were being robbed. Seriously what do you do when you notice that sort of activity in the car in front of you? There were no cops on the road and the taxi had no plate number. My friend tried to be a hero and was trailing the car but the driver noticed us and increased his speed along with some dangerous swerves and soon we realized we had not only lost them but we were lost as well.

We eventually got to shoprite and I experienced shoprite Ibadan for the first time in history. I think I actually feel safer in the market on Lagos Island than I ever did throughout my time there. There were thousands of people running against you and basically doing nothing. I could only imagine the pilfering rate, the security was obviously swamped. Seriously tho’ why would there be that many people at shoprite on Valentine’s day not doing anything? Did dudes take chicks to shoprite for dates? #eternallyconfused
My wallet was securely wedged between my arm and chest throughout. The guys were thoroughly frazzled and begged us to just buy suya in addition to the party favors we got from shoprite and have a quiet bridal shower at the hotel. We finally agreed after they promised to take us out somewhere romantic the next evening and after they showed us the way to the suya they left us to our fate.

The rest of the night was an angry blur (more like a bleh). We made the mistake of going to options 24-7 to buy suya and the other half of the population of Ibadan were there. It took us two hours and four reorders to finally get our soggy, onion-less suya, throw in two guys – one obviously having a mid-life crisis and the other still trying to find himself who were both hoping to get lucky and then the female police woman patrolling the road at night not to mention almost getting lost and we were back at the hotel too tired to have the crazy party we had planned. The men were just leaving for the bach eve and the hotel manager announced that my friend K and her hubby were the lucky winners of a romantic dinner for two in the hotel lobby (rolling my eyes), maybe the dining room was fully booked but the table for two at the lobby was anything but romantic and my friend’s hubby announced he was on his way out and that was the end of that story (I wonder what was on the menu 😉 )

The next day was beautiful, the wedding was a gorgeous one and we had a splendid time. After it we decided to watch Kevin Hart’s new movie “About last night“.

It would have been a great movie if my hubby hadn’t dozed off ten minutes into the movie. The Ibadan cinema was hot, noisy and shabby but they had a gregarious audience and their comments added to the excitement (p.s if you are one of those people who like quiet cinemas DO NOT go here). That night I didn’t sleep a wink. I spent the night vomiting and stooling and by morning I felt like the walking dead. Everybody blamed the Chinese I had at the wedding. It was Ibadan’s way of saying ‘I am glad you came, do visit us again…’ (evil laugh)

I jejerly bought imodium and kissed the rustic city goodbye…
How was your weekend? I know mine sounds like it was the weekend from hell but despite being stuck in the city called chaos, I had mad fun! 😉

There was a poll on the website asking readers if they thought Valentine’s day was overrated and majority (57%) felt it was overrated. I actually agree with the majority simply because I have learnt not to put too much pressure on myself or my loved ones. Too many of us have made val’s day about the gifts instead of the emotion behind the gestures. I had an awesome time because I was surrounded by friends and family (even though I almost died). It’s never too late to make the person you love feel special, don’t wait till February 14th next year to do it.

Have a lovely night Chutzpah fam,
(writing posts for y’all to read is really therapeutic, do drop a comment so I know you are there…)

Xxx

 
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Posted by on February 17, 2014 in Life, Memoirs

 

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