Saturday, December 22, 2007

Kite Runner vs Moloka'i

There's nothing I love more than to kill the time before my movie starts by perusing the magnificent world that exists within the walls of the Bethesda Barnes & Nobles

I walked out with the book Moloka'i by Alan BrennertThis I started in the bookstore and then finished it in the morning after I got home from my movie.

After I walked out of the store I went in to see the Kite Runner

The soundtrack was amazing; courtesy the Italian Alberto Iglesias. The characters were just poetic. I understood them all. From the weakness of character that led to Amir's sacrifice of his friendship to Hassan, to the strength of character that was the pillar his father was made of, to the jealousy fueled cruelty that propelled Asfer from a neighbourhood truant into a Taliban general. I understood the starkness of the land (even though the film was shot in location in Pakistan and Northern China), I embraced the language like I understood it. The music carried me up and let me float down with the sureness of a descending kite and speaking of kites, did anyone know that they could be so fascinating?

It was a lovely film and when it was all over, I was blessed not to have to wait long for my bus as it was sitting right there when I got to the stop. It was like God knew how much I had needed the day's experiences and how much I needed to get home not just to finish my book but to go over my thoughts.

Have a wonderful holiday.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

I have played this song so much....

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Anti-Corruption Day

Watch This!!!!

See what our people have been reduced to......

Friday, December 7, 2007


Dear friends:

December 9th is UN International Anti-Corruption Day and Nigerian Lighthouse seeks to commemorate this day with a small but pertinent project.

The goal is to get as many people to write a 50 word (or less) message on how to eradicate corruption in Nigeria. All submitted messages will be posted at the website - .

Most Nigerians have an opinion on how to stop corruption. Here is a chance to share that idea with the world! So, simply write a message of 50 (or less) words and send it to Then send another message to your friends encouraging them to participate as well. This will only take 5 minutes of your time and the rewards - sharing ideas that will definitely improve Nigeria - is more than worth it.

Hope to hear from you all!

Nigerian Lighthouse Team

PS: To learn more about the origins of International Anti-Corruption day, please visit the United Nations page at

You can post yours as comments to this post and I will see that it gets to the Lighthouse.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

All hail Zhang Yimou

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Movies, soundtrack and the female element

Before you start, I will like to invite you to check this out. To the women, feel free to share your stories about that part of your anatomy that brings us joy, pain, confusion and comfort. And to the men, feel free to analyse that which your pursuit of defines your life's decisions.

I love film. It presents a world into which I can immerse myself and experience something that at the time is beyond my reach. I watch films quite differently from the average person. I absorb the dialogue, I crtique the wardrobe, sample the music and adopt the characters as my own.
I am going to share some asian films that have in some way brought home the female element and why I love them. I am sharing Asian films because though I am Nigerian and come from a country that has a wide and influential film industry, there are no films, in my opinion that explore the complex relationships that make up our women or dare to showcase women how they really are or ought to be without catering to stereotypical roles that tell us that we have to as women cater to the man at the expense of our happiness, goals and identity.
These films are different and hold different meanings for me but in essence they explore the woman and her varying identities

I love this movie because it's story completely seduced me and engulfed my senses. I have even written a play in my mind that I call an ode to this film. The performances were gorgeous, the scenery beautiful, the music was haunting and beautiful in its subtlety.
It shared a complex story of a power play between two women and the men whose desires they fulfilled.

2. MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA : adapted from the book by Arthur Golden
I love this film because I fell in love with the book. Plus, I am in love with Ken Watanabe, the lead male character. The soundtrack was so beautiful, the costumes gorgeous and the rumoured scandal behind the film's leading ladies, scintillating. I have this on DVD and watch the bonus features on occassion as inspiration of how good I want my cinematography to be when I make my own movies.
The story is of a geisha in pre-second world war Japan and her journey towards becoming a renowned "artist" or geisha. I have always been fascinated by these women who walk the thin line between "kept woman" and entertainer

I don't want to go as far as say that I worship Deepa but in some ways I do. As a film maker, she has continously chosen to break convention and tell the stories that need to be told.
If you have not seen this film, you need to because it addresses a traditional practice that in most developing countries is still being practiced to day and that is the unfair and unrealistic treatment of widows. "Water" is told from the Indian perspective. With the introduction of the V-Monolugues, we too as Africans can tell ours and help put a stop to a useless and unjust abuse of the basic human rights of women.

4. DOR
DIRECTOR: Nagesh Kukunoor
This director is one of the main reasons why I began to believe that maybe I could make it in the film industry even if I did not go to film school. With a background in engineering, he turned around and went into film and his work gets progressively better with each installment
I love this film because it is about the connection that we women have. This sisterhood, sorority that we have to keep alive, celebrate and promote. The performances were very very good, the scenery was breathtaking and the music I just fell in love with. One of the songs "Yeh Hosla" is playing with this clip

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Just Do It

So I have been going through some real difficult stuff in my life. Stuff that has caused me to question my relationship with God and my relationship with Him.
Somewhere in the midst of the chaos and confusion in my heart, I suddenly got the inspiration to just get off my arse and get the job done myself.
I have resolved that I will begin taking some steps. If I take one step and there is no more road, I will know that I have to back track and start in another direction- there are so many ways to get to Lagos Island besides the Third Mainland Bridge.
I have to stop waiting for someone to say "Hey Catwalq, there is the road." I wouldn't mind that, once I have started walking.
Wish me luck and look out. It's all about to happen.

Check out one of my odes to the designs that cater to my V Spot

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Where are you?

Where are you?
Don't you know that I am waiting to hear from you?
Don't you know that I all I look forward to in the hustle and bustle of the day is that time when the phone rings and your voice spills forth from the other end to caress me?
Don't you know that I have restructured my entire schedule to make time to conversate with you?
Don't you know I am so scared of myself now
I have checked all my sent messages...all to you
eighty percent of my calls...all to you
my naughtiest thoughts...all of you
My pseudo-diet plans...all for you
Call me
Tell me anything
I have become a walking cliche-d woman where I walk around and think of pink flowers and cotton candy
Of "his" and "hers" towels
That's what I am thinking about when my body is not pulsating at the mere thought of you
When I have to change my underwear as I have been drenched with the desire of you
Call me
Help my head calm down
Stop my mind from running riot
Give me something to hold on to
Where are you?
Where are you?
Don't you know?
That I love you?

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Do you know?

Where can one get statistical research data/info on the Nigerian Film industry?
Rules and regulations?
Historical data?

Sunday, November 4, 2007

I made up my own meme...twenty random things I am thinking

1. I feel so good right now. He told me I am the sexiest woman he has ever met. That's going to be my mantra as I work out this week

2. I am cooking fried rice right now

3. I have alot of work to do. Mostly because I procrastinated

4. I have to go get my things out of the dryer. Can't have impatient strangers handle my lovelies

5. I wonder what is on tv tonight. I am going to end up on either Current TV or IFC anyways

6. I love my bed. I am ignoring it right now though cos after I update this blog. I have to get cracking on my work.

7. I think I need to loose some serious inches on my waist.

8. I love blogging. I am in love with my blogville characters...

9. I learnt how to use a flat iron this weekend.

10. I have to post some important packages tomorrow.

11. Dang! I just realised I am out of plantain and so what will I eat my fried rice with.

12. I have salad cream so aha!

13. I wonder what other bloggers are doing.

14. I am going to start working on a movie script. I am convinced I can make a much better movie than anyone currently out there on the Nigerian market.

15. Why did my mummy not call me today?

16. I hope my brother is alright. I miss him bugging me. I miss my daddy too but right now I really miss Omo Mummy

17. I have to think of things to make up the random twenty points. Why didn't I pick ten or fifteeen?

18. What is that smell? Jisoz!!! My rice

19. It's ok. I am paranoid

20. Like I said, I am feeling very sexy today...but I am going to eat some of this food even though it is 9.00 pm at night...

So, like most people who do memes, you have to tag some people. So I don't get beat up at the Blogville Townhall Meeting for missing out anyone, I thus invite you, the reader to tag yourself and feel free to use this as a post.
But you have to indicate that you are using it so I can come check yours out.
Have a wonderful week.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

When a queen fell...

Sometimes you hear that someone has thrown in the towel in his/her struggle to have a happy existence and opted to exit their present incarnation. Shock, disbelief, betrayal, accusations, condemnation cannot encompass the breath of the reactions that will follow.

As a child, I always considered such people cowardly. I mean, I would sneer, what could they be going through that they felt they could not solve? Now that I am older and have grazed through my fair share of frustrations and depression, I can imagine why at some point, an unscheduled exit will appear the release one needs.

Still I have held on and with each passing of the 'night' I am grateful for the opportunity to see the morrow.

Once when I was in school, I witnessed what many of us considered an attempted suicide. A girl, in my graduating year fell off the ledge of the balcony of our floor where she had been dangerously perched and warned repeatedly to dismount from.

She had been a slightly odd female; prone to mood swings, sudden displays of aggression and then surprising gaiety. I knew her, she knew me and we were not friends.

As she sat on the ledge, ignoring the warnings of our colleagues, she swung her legs as if she were seated on a swing only but a few inches from the ground instead of two stories up. I watched her from the corner of my eye not because I was concerned but because I was people watching. I would watch my classmates much like an outsider would watch a foreign people.

The next thing I knew, she was no longer there. She had lost her balance and fallen. Two stories to the ground below. Gravel broke her fall. Screams tore through the air as girls rushed forward.

Somehow, the SS1 girls who were on the ground floor responded like lightning and two seconds later, the fallen girl was being carried to the sickbay. Girls somehow had the intuition that at the speed the carriers were moving and with the weight of the fallen girl, they would get tired. They moved like a synchronised machine, moving to the ends of the train to take over the task and move her in one piece to our barely capable medical emergency care. Minutes later, the school ambulance raced out to the hospital.

Then the stories began. She had jumped, they said. She had simply leaned back and let go. She had been smiling. She looked happy as she fell. All sorts of tales. Night prep was a waste of time as no one could calm down. I joined in the talking.

Why would she try to kill herself? What an idiot. If she wanted to kill herself, we mused coldly, why hadn't she availed herself to the ten-stories high staff quarters on the compound?

According to the tales, when she was able to talk, they had asked her if she had tried to hurt herself and she had not denied it. Upon her return the next semester, we avoided her like a plague. I was not going to be the one to set her off and make her kill herself for real. She became even more quiet.

When I told my mother, she was so disappointed in me. She could not believe that I had joined in the common consciousness to scorn the fallen queen. "She was unhappy, why could you not see that?" my mother asked in her quiet voice that sounded much like a condemning yell.

I had been silent. I did not tell my mother that I had understood exactly what the girl had been feeling. I too had been unhappy. I had simply feared surviving an attempt on my own life than anything else and never taken the step.

I wonder where she is now. I hope she is happy. Each day, I choose to be. I refuse to be a fallen queen. I always have to find the strength to do that.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Lace & Adire IV

I am going through my list trying to make sure that I have got all Tammy needs for her trip.
I think I have.
My phone vibrates on the table. Once. It is a text.
I know who it is from because it is three am in the morning and only one person cares enough to send me something.
Also it is eight am where he is and he sends me a morning text up.
"My woman" it says "guess you are still asleep. I am at the office and I love you."
My whole body springs to attention.
It recognizes him and it yearns.
I have told no one about him.
He is my first blessing in a list of many and I am so elated that I feel like I can have it all and will.
I close my eyes and in my mind's eye, I can see his lips move, the words reaching out to caress mine in a soft kiss.
I quickly text him a kiss.
His reply is almost immediate. "Are you working on a project? Why are you awake?"
"I am. Tammy and school."
He does not like my job with Tammy or maybe, it's what Tammy does that he does not like.
He has not asked me to stop and offer to provide for me because he already knows what my answer will be.
The phone rings. It's an Unavailable number. Long distance. Him.
"Hey," my voice is breathy and anxious. It's almost like my body is drinking in the sound of him.
"Love, you are still awake? I really have to do something about this."
I chuckle because we both know that there is nothing we can do about the hours I keep.
What we are not saying but thinking is that if he were here, I'd be awake and working and so would he as we both brought the other to a release so explosive and earth shattering.
"I miss you." I tell him. I am not going to beat about the bush and have him fish such words out of me.
He sighs " I am counting down till xmas. If you cannot come to me, there is nothing stopping me from coming to you. Either way, I am going to be with you."
I close my eyes. I need him now. Almost painfully.
"Talk to me," I ask of him "Talk to me in whispers. Tell me anything but whisper it to me.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Lace & Adire III

I am trying to concentrate.
Ms Cesare knows my mind is not with her.
Still, I am taking notes without missing a beat.
I want to be with him so much, my whole body is tingling
I don't know how much longer I can wait.
It doesn't help that Tamara house a home that is softly lit.
The hues cast by her expensive Neimann Weeks lamp makes me think of skin slicked with sweat.
The fragrance of her pot pourri makes me imagine what his sheets would smell like.
My thighs are aching just to clamp down, trapping him inside of me.
"Catwalq?" Tamara's voice is soft but full of caution.
I am not paying attention. She is not finding it funny.
"I am sorry...?"
"Would you like to leave?"
I swallow. How can someone who says so little have the power to make me hear all?
"No, I am very much with you."
She nods. Her head turns slightly, a graceful and effortless return of her gaze to the paper in her hands. We are planning her trip to the Hamptons. A "meeting" with one of her clients.
"It's all so consuming, isn't it?" She says, her words seeming to float towards me in my daze.
My ears spring to attention.
"I am sorry?"
"It's all so consuming. Isn't it." she repeats, impaling me with her now green eyes. She changes her contacts so often, it is amazing. Green for her is the most disconcerting. And pretty.
"I am not sure I follow..." I stammer.
"Something tells me he is not an average man. Now, is he?"
It takes me all of three seconds to decide whether to lie or allow her some insight into my life. I mean, it's not like I don't know what she does for a living. But we are not friends. She is a courtesan and I am her assistant.
I nod. He is very non average. I am petrified to have anyone see just how he is making me feel, so I look at my feet. Tamara chuckles.
"You are a sly one, you. " she sighs "Enjoy this. You don't know how hard it is to have that feeling and keep it."
I look at her lowered head as she returns to her writing. Who is she really? How did she become this woman? This woman, men and in some cases women pay thousands of dollars for her company. This woman, with whom I have never seen a companion...a partner. This woman who in her silence appears so unbending, formal, and yet so sensual and vulnerable.
"I know." I tell her, because I do know how long I have waited for this.
"Tell him that if he misbehaves, I know a guy who can make him swim with the fishes."
I laugh out loud because the way she says it is so deadpan that it is hilarious.
She smiles at me and I can see why all want her.
"Pay attention."

Tuesday, October 16, 2007


Every touch
imprinted in my brain
Every single inch upon my skin branded by you
All I want
Is to be with you again
Wait for the time, I'll return to you

As season's change
Summer burns with passion
I'm restless, I am hot
Waiting for you
Falling apart
Going insane
Hopelessly waiting

Lyrics to a song I wrote and had performed. Dedicated to you. You know who you are.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Lace & Adire II

She lives in Friendship Heights. In a condo that was converted from an old apartment that was once inhabited by a famous DC socialite. I guess that is interesting. I am only interested how much it is going to cost my derriere to get to and from her place in the rush of a working day.

It has been agreed. I will come once during the week. On Wednesday. So her weekly schedule will run from one Wednesday to the next. Then on Saturday, I pick up dry cleaning, drop off the next batch, make sure the maid does the clean up like she likes it, cross check all appointments ("work related" or otherwise) etc. I am kind of a glorified maid but at the amount I am paid, I am considered an "assistant". And I am loving it.

I think the concierge at the apartment knows what she does or at least has an idea of what the nature of her job is. And I think he imagines me to be her protege or something. He looked at me funny when I went and I looked at him funny, right back. Caucasian Negro. Mssstsststhw!!

I have to go to Sensuale to pick up her package. From what I know Sensuale to be, I guess we have a new shipment of "accessories".

I have homework. I have to learn to drive. This is going to be an interesting couple of months.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

Lace & Adire

"What is your name?"
"Catwalq". I answer trying to hold her gaze. It's her eyes you know, they bore into me unflinchingly, like she is trying to impale me with them.
"How old are you?"
"Where are you from?"
"Lagos, Nigeria"
"Interesting...and how long have you been here?"
"Four years now."
She uncrosses her fabric clad legs. I try not to marvel at the fluidity of her movements. Her pants are expensive, I can tell, the colour is rich and it suits her. I am thirsty but I do not reach for my drink.
"Why do you want this job?"
I pause because I am thinking whether or not to be honest.
"I need a position that will pay me well and does not include the hassle of paperwork."
She smiles. She knows what I mean. I need a job. I am not allowed to work off campus. There are no jobs on campus to hire me and I am running on an account of red with bills piling up left, right and center. She needs an assistant. I am here.
"How did you think to get in touch with me?" her voice is as warm as the tea she sips. I feel cold. Why, I don't know.
"It just occurred to me."
What was I to say? That I had emailed more than twelve others after having perused the internet for weeks and that she was the only one to get back to me. She was my first actually. I try not to think about the fact that she might have simply asked me here for her own amusement. I don't want to walk out of the cafe with a croissant and a glass of juice as my reward. I want a job. I want to work for Tamara Cesare. I want this job. I need this job.
"I was not looking for an assistant, " she begins and then adds when she sees my expression"But that is not to say I don't need one."
I have to be careful to curtail my facial expressions. She is reading me like a book. She needs someone as mysterious as she. She needs me to be as elusive as she. She needs me to be as private as she. She needs...
"I am sorry, can you repeat that again?" Shit! I wasn't listening.
Her smile is not amused.
"How much of your time can you give?"
My answer is rehearsed.
"I can work ten to fifteen hours during the week and my weekends are optional."
"Where do you go to school again?"
"On the Hill"
"What do you study?"
"That is pretty believe you can make it work."
"I am capable of balancing the responsibilities. In fact, I..."
"Very well," she interrupts "I will put you on a temporary basis...we'll see how that works out."
I nod.
"I expect the highest form of professionalism. I do not joke with my business."
I nod.
"You have to be discreet....And I will not tolerate slip ups."
I nod. Dis she expect me to comment?
She peers at me from behind her tea cup.
"I don't know about you...but at least you don't have that wide eyes innocence that one would expect but you are not that sharp either."
I am silent. Why is she insulting me.
She reaches into the flat purse that has lain in on the table between the two of us since we met. She pulls out a card, a pen and begins to write. I am thirsty.
"You haven't touched your juice...or your croissant for that matter."
I give her a weak smile.
She chuckles. "You honestly think that slurping liquid or chewing out loud will dictate whether or not you get the position?"
I don't know what to say, so I nod.
She hands me the card.
"Tomorrow at seven thirty. Can you make that?"
I quickly browse through my schedule for the next day in my mind. Seven thirty is late but it's good.
I nod.
"Do you drive?"
"No" My heart catches in my chest. Oh no.
"Can you drive?"
I shake my head. She looks at me for a long minute.
"Don't be late."
She rises as she speaks. I try to rise with her so that I can shake her hand before she leaves. She walks away before I can say a word; my hand hangs extended.
I look at the card. It is a local address. I hope it is metro accessible. I can't wait to get home and check the internet for the directions.
If all is well, I might have a job. As an assistant to one of DC's highest paid female escorts.

Saturday, October 6, 2007




TIME: 7.00- 8.30 PM






Wednesday, October 3, 2007

23 is the new 16....

Today I am 23. Oct 4th. Officially
Don't know how the post shows yesterday when I did it this morning.
I am optimistic about this new year of my life.
In so many ways, when I was younger, where I am today is not where I thought I would be.
It has all been a blessing sha and I am grateful.
Imagine all those that never got a chance to see their tenth birthday not to talk of their twentieth.
I guess I am now counting down to 30. Psyches.
Have a great day all.

Friday, September 28, 2007

EASTERN PROMISES....therapy here I come

So, I got up and dragged one of my best girlfriends and decided that we would do something that did not entail either one of us lamenting about the varying issues in our lives. We got on the metro, rushed to Potbelly's were we bout two sandwhiches to take into the theatre (hey, unless u have some spicy chicken wings or spicy food or sweetened popcorn, I am bringing in my own food), rushed to the theatre to find our first choice sold out. So, after a ridiculous game of rock paper scissors, we settled on

I must say that this was the first time that I actually felt disturbed by a film. I thought I was going to be plunged into a romantic tale about the russian mafia where the villains have heart and the codes of the familia are not necessarily wrong, just not understood by average society.
I can say that while I might have contemplated dating a don or two, I am not interested in meeting or identifying a member of the russian mob. Immediately the movie was over, almost the entire room rose as one and hurried from the hall, trying not too appear as jarred as they actually were.
Now that I am home, warmer (cos I dressed inappropriately for the weather...forgot it would get colder as the evening wore on and forgot to take a sweater) and listening to some soothing new age music from my Narada collection, I can say that the movie was quite good. The characters were raw and unapologetic and the leading female was unabashedly naive and romantic (you know, the type that sees the flowers and rainbows in everything).
I will recommend the movie for you if you have a string stomach. the gore is plentiful and sudden. You might cry out for your I did...hey, I no dey shame that kain thing. Why I go dey demo when I get mama?
Any ways, I am about to enjoy my weekend and hope you do the same

Tuesday, September 18, 2007


I went to see a free movie (yeah, sue me) out of Indonesia. Berbagi Suami (Love for Share) was an interesting presentation of three stories revolving around polygamy in Indonesia. Three women, Salma, Siti and Ming were profiled in three interconnecting stories that portrayed in what I must call a humane side of polygamy. Gone were the exaggerated theatrics employed in Nigerian films to tackle the issue that they in the end fail to either indicate is bad or good.

I loved the movie. Loved the stories, the characters, the footage, the soundtrack and did not mind that the movie seemed lengthier than 120 minutes. The best part was the question and answer session where the director who had been brought in by the association of southeast Asian countries in celebration of thirty years of good relationship with the United States.

Back to the movie. While it was not my first south east Asian flick (those who know me must know that I am a die hard Bollywood addict and I have dabbled in a Thai hit here and there) it was my first out of Indonesia and I must confess I imagined I was going to have to sit through a production much similar to the likes of which spewed out by our spare-parts-dealers-turned-film-producers. I was so surprised at the quality of the movie. The sound was amazing and the camera angles were well used.

I was so intrigued about this award winning film that I had to go google it. How is it that a country whose economy mirrors ours and has a movie industry even younger and less experienced than ours in Nigeria, produce flicks that have depth and direction. I think it is because their industry is run by trained storytellers. The director informed us that she researched her script for over a year before even thinking of casting. And that was all born out the curiosity created when she was introduced to her driver's second wife. I have heard alot of jokes about Nigerian directors and script writers who decide the next project's concept over the pounded yam lunch in between takes. I have no issue with that...if at least six months is devoted to digging in depth into the concept, researching and documenting the finds. They might find better insights and make films that we Nigerians abroad will feel unashamed and skeptical about inviting our friends to see with us. You don't know how many times my friends have come asking for dvds to watch, seen my film collections and I have to lie about lack of subtitles (which usually is true for Yoruba films) or that the disk is scratched (very plausible even of it is supposed to be new) or it is not working (again another possibility).....come to think of it, I don't even have to lie.

For the directors out there using film as their medium of communication, please take some time to put together your projects. The same way you will not leave your house half dressed don't send your projects out into the world have made. Research your stories. Leave your opinions out of it (I am tired of the self gratifying movies made my ignorant and chauvinistic men that paint outspoken and forward thinking women as immoral or religious fanatics that tout their faith...not everyone is of a majority faith and it is extremely annoying) and get those who know how to do it t work with you. It takes time but wouldn't you rather have a lasting quality product?

I would.

Friday, September 7, 2007

Borrowed from Nyemoni

Accent: Yoruba Brit on Crack..

Booze: Don't drink

Chore I Hate: I am lazy, so everything

Dogs/Cats: Neither

Essential electronics: TV( that has its own DVD and VCR player), a sound system, a computer (if that constitutes an electronic gadget...+all its accessories

Favourite Perfume: Right now, Armani Code, Estee Lauder's Intuition and Moschino's I love love...also, just tried on a Burberry Classic. It was lovely

Gold/Silver: Silver.

Hometown: Lagos Island, Lagos State

Insomnia: Not possible

Job title: Very Soon; Architect/ Developer and Entrepreneur

Kids: Not on my list of things to have now

Living arrangements: Useless dorm but my room is sweet…

Most admired trait: People have complimented my go-to personality, the way I talk, and that I am easy to talk to

Number of sexual partners: Male or female?

Overnight hospital stays: Diarrhea. The doctor on call was so cute it was illegal and he did not mind my leaky butt

Phobia: Smells and Failure

Quote: "Every thought, word, or action either purifies you or pollutes you." Sri Harold Klemp, Spiritual Leader, Eckankar. So which is it going to be?

Religion: Eckankar

Siblings: 1 brother. Very annoying but he can have my left kidney anytime.

Time I usually awake: When I am late for class

Unusual talent: I’ve still not discovered it…

Vegetable I refuse to eat: Most caucasian inspired squash.

Worst habit: Procrastination + Exageration = Disaster

X-rays: To get into secondary school and college. Many, as an out patient at Igbobi.

Yummy foods I make: Ogbono, itsekiri style. Efo riro. Okra. Yam Pottage

Zodiac sign: Libra!!! We rock

Play list: Tal, by Trapezoid.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

I need a topic to blog on.
Oya, donate...

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Just for me

Him: What do you want from me? I can't keep up with your games, Cat

Me: (slow chuckle) I am suprised you don't already know.

Him: Like I said, I am not into games. And I am confused as to why you are choosing to play them.

Me: Before I tell you, you have to promise to give it to me.

Him: I cannot promise what I am unsure of. You know that and neither will you.

Me: Then, I cannot tell you

Him: Then, I guess that's it.

Me: OK

Him: Fine, I don't care. You want it...whatever it is, so it is your loss

Me: How do you know?

Him: (Pauses, watches me) I don't. You won't say and I am not going to guess

Me: Fine...*sighing*

Him: What is it?

Me: Nothing

Him: Then why are you sighing like that

Me: I have the right to expel air any which way I like

Him: Suit yourself

Me: Fine. I am going home.

Him: So we are back to where we started?

Me: Actually no. I thought you'd be chicken but now I am sure. So u see, I have made some progress

Him: (silence)

Me: If looks could kill (chuckling)

Him: Catwalq!...

Me: Damn, u r pissed. Why?

Him: @#^%!

Me: Excuse you? I am going to assume that's not at me

Him: (sighing) Where is this going? We are beating about the bush. You keep saying you want something mature. I can't give you what you want unless you tell me what it is. U know you are not the simpering type and U know that type is not my type either. For the last time, what do you want?

Me: ....

Him: Hun?

Me: Release.

Him: Release?

Me: Release...for my body and my fantasies. Nothing more...for now and nothing less.

Him: ok...?

Me: You give me you and I give you me. We see just how explosive it all can be...i mean, the sparks are all there to see.

Him: Are you rhyming?

Me: No

Him: Carry on

Me: Next weekend, I am free. We can go where ever you choose and create whatever we feel like. The weekend is just what it is...a weekend. You, me and clean sheets...don't look at me like that. You say, you want me to be blunt...

Him: That you have always been

Me: Then, what is the problem

Him: Why?

Me: It's something that I want. Just for me.

Him: And me?

Me: Oh, I am open to whatever...just don't expect some circus-trapeze-swinging-type-shit. And I don't do excessive pain. A spank, ok; show up with a laddle and I will use it on you and your ancestry.

Him: (laughs)....just this weekend?

Me: For now, yes

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Me+ life= 23 year old woman with the personality of a 45 year old

He says to me, " Catwalq," (after a heated arguement) "I want to be regarded as the head of the household not because I beat (not literarily) my wife into a corner and command her to worship me but because she has taken a good look at me, assessed my strengths and weaknesses and has decided that yes XXXX (his name) is worthy of my heart and my devotion. That means, I have to have earned it through my actions and how I live my life not because I brow beat her into supplication (his words not mine. yeah, he is one of the book-ie ones). I want her to love me as I love her because I have earned her love."

I am thinking to myself, "Then why won't you give me a chance? I already think that about you, why won't you give me a chance? Matter of fact, why won't anyone?"

I am really hating always being the friend that everyone says will make a great wife, mother, cook, driver, bedmate...whatever-based-on-what-I-am-doing-at-the-time. Okay, so I am not so sold on the idea of the first three but damn, why must it be so hard.

This is what happens when you are twenty-three going on forty five.

I am going to get myself a soda.


Monday, August 20, 2007

Beasts of No Nation

I just read Uzodinma Iweala's "BEASTS OF NO NATION". Yes, I know I am late to the discourse of it but like people always say, "Better late than never". It was a heart wrenching read. I hurt all over as I took a journey with the main character, a little boy soldier through his experiences trying to survive during the war after having lost his childhood and being forcefulloy thrust into a world of chaos, abuse and violence.

His words were so simple and sincere that it was like I felt each shiver of fear, each hunger pang and his desperation. I wish I could write like that. It was a great book and I am recommending you read it.

And if you can, do keep in mind that you have to be careful what actions you take and be prepared to be accountable for them. I am sure that none of the generals who plunge countries into wars take into account the effects on the lives of those individuals who have absolutely no understanding of what they are supposed to be fighting for.

I always pray that every thought, word and action that I make is to God's glory and that of which is his. I always pray that I do not consciously or unconsciously cause another human being pain because if I do set out to victimise someone else, I have degenerated from the human consciousness of soul to that of an animal.

Thursday, August 16, 2007


Yesterday was such a good day. U know, one of those days when God hugs you and tells you that all will be well and that you are on the right part.
I was on such a good high.
So here's a hug from me to you; inviting you to share in my happiness.
Have a good day and GREAT weekend.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

On a mission...

I need all my guys and (capable ladies to help me out here).
Guys, I need to improve my technique....
When I tried, I don't think he liked my "efforts" too much even though he said not a thing.
I made sure everything was warm and that the motion was fluid but I am quite sure I suck (no pun intended).
I need tips before he comes back next friday.
I want to make sure that afterwards, he is not coherent. And in a good way

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Maybe it's just me...

1. I cannot wake up in the morning and immediately jump on the phone. I live with an aunt whom I secretely suspect is afraid of silences. She always has to talk about something or someone with somebody. I find I gossip more when I am around her and I don't like it. it gives me a headache (believe ot or not) and I always feel like I have done something wrong. As someone who has done alot of wrongful talking in her life, I am trying to practice the Laws of Silence; where I speak unless i absolutely have to and the utmost truth at that.

2. I don't like alot of light. People think I put off lights to save on the electric bill but it's just that I like shadows. In the shadows, you cannot see my face clearly and thus you cannot tell exactly what I am thinking. And in the shadows, I can conjur up images of my perfect place and immerse myself in it. With the lights on, the glaring realities of my environment are sometimes too much to bear.

3. I love easily, I hurt easily, I forgive easily but I do not forget.

4. I don't bear grudges...for long. It is physically and emotionally exhausting for me to dislike people.

5. I speak my mind and can be blunt and in some instances, tactless. I just want you to know what to expect from some extent.

6. I have a phobia of smells. I have started using men's cologne because it is stronger. i brush after every meal and chew minty gum so much, I fear I might have damaged my enamels. i just fear that people will say that I am smelling and no one will tell me and yet everyone will talk about it. I have an aunt with horrible bad breath, even after she had brushed and I try not to sit too close to her.

7. I love food. It's almost disgusting. I can be mad depressed and once I eat, I feel better. Food is my comfort. My weight blows up and down. I fluctuate from an 8 to a 4 from time to time. I am trying to find other ways to channel my frustrations or to calm my worries. Blogging has been one of such ways.

8. My greatest fear is failure. Failure to build what I dream. I calm myself by telling myself that "God would not have gifted you with the ability to dream and think the way you do, only so that you can desire a certain accomplishment all your life". Sometimes, that helps to calm me and when that doesn't work, I pray. And when that doesn't work, I eat.

9. I watch all sorts of things on television. From porn to foreign films. I have always loved tv.

10. I crush on guys alot and almost as quickly, i loose interest.

11. I wouldn't call myself beautiful. And I never have. I maintain however that there are two basic types of girls. Those that compete in the beauty pageants and those that produce and direct the show. I am the director. My beauty is in my mind, my thoughts, words and actions.

12. I love my butt. It was the one thing I always loved about myself. Though, its size fluctuates based on my weight.

13. I am going to be a great in three fields: Architecture, Film/Theatre and Fashion. I know it and I believe it.

14. I have never had a "real" boyfriend. Sometimes, i don't like it but most times I am okay about it. As I get older though, I fear I might not be able to function in a relationship as I am so used to doing things for and by myself. I have always had problems sharing. Not material things. But myself or my life. The things that matter most to me, I keep to myself. Thus, very few people really know me.

15. People have told me that I am funny. I sometimes fear they laugh "at" me and not "with" me.

Thursday, July 26, 2007


GOD FLICKS HIS WAND... ( in the Nigerian Part of heaven)


ANGEL INSPECTOR: well u r at the manufacturing facility. u just got made. here is your spare-parts sheet. As you receive your parts and functions, u get the dispatcher to tick them off. oya,come down.



CATWALQ: (WALKING ABOUT, COMPLETELY BLOWN AWAY) wow, oh my God...look at that...and that...and that... wow. my goodness. wonder what that is...hello, bye, excuse

SOME RANDOM SOULS LIKE THIS: Hello, what is ur name.

CATWALQ: catwalq. what are yours?

RANDOM SOUL 1: random soul 1

SOUL II: random soul II. where u just made?

CATWALQ: no oo, i was made this morning (notices an exchanged glance) why, what is it?

SOUL II: why r you incomplete? are your parts made to order?

CATWALQ: what do u mean?

RS1: look around. u notice anything?

CATWALQ: (LOOKS AROUND. REALISES SOMETHING IS AMISS) everyone looks different. what is going on?

RS1: u were supposed to make the rounds at the departments and collect your things. What do u have tamped on your paper?

SOUL II: what were u told that the paper floating around your head was for?

CATWALQ: Oh gosh, I completely forgot...

SOUL II: (RETRIEVING PAPER) mm-hmn, obviously. all she has is speech. no brain, no limbs, no eyes...nothing (TO RS1) am even surprised she has not fallen into a ditch all day.

RS1: (TO CATWALQ) where have u been? what were u doing? what were u thinking?

SOUL II: I must say that that last question is quite daft considering her brain item is not ticked...

RS1: shut up!

CATWALQ: (STARTS TO CRY...NO TEARS COME...NO GLANDS). what am I going to do? what is going to happen to me.

SOUL II: I guess, u can be one of the cleaners here...shucks. u need limbs for that.

RS1: Soul, waka far, right now....

SOUL II: (walks away chuckling)

RS1: (LOOKING AT THE PAPER): let's see. where r u being sent to?

CATWALQ: (HICCUPPING) I think to Yorubaland by way of Benin.

RS1: it says here that u r going to be a girl, so let's first make sure that u have those parts covered.


HEIGHT ANGEL: ah, sorry o. i just gave the last few inches to that one going. If u can come back tomorrow, maybe they would have brought a new batch of clay.

RS1: what about all these ones in the basket?

HEIGHT ANGEL: abi, u wan put me for trouble. no be d same place dem dey go. na d one wey remainder from since more-reen, na im dey dere. see dis yansh, as e big so, the leg wey co carry am don finish. see this hand, look am, u see sey the colour na one kain. i don tell u say i don finish d one for toh-day. if una come tomorrow, i fit find proper one for u.
when dem say make u comot?

CATWALQ: this night.

HA: abi, dem give u something chop? where u bin dey since more-reen?

RS1: no mind am o. as im collect im voice, na tori im knack till im waka go d other side. na for brain department we just dey commot since. dey even don pack commot for office.

HA: na wah o. oya, make I look my supplies. I fit get weting I go combine, make im face no kill im mama when e land.

(they burst into laughter)

CATWALQ: are u mocking me? I have a feeling that I am being ridiculed.

HA: shuo. na oyinbo pikin?

RS1: no o, dem just talk say, im go go school.

HA: dosgbe. I don see like five hundred today wey go go school. na so all of them dey knack English for here. One of them even vex me sef, na im make me wan keep im left leg. I con remember my former oga wey try am one time, na devil shit in dey take hand carry.

RS1: o ti o

HA: oya, Cattie-qwal, abi wetin be ur name?

RS1: (TO CATWALQ) he is talking to you

HA: leave am. im battery neva charge complete. e go slow for some time. oya take. manage this one. I no tink say u go too tall. but as u be woman, u go take koko shoe correct am.

To be continued.

Friday, July 20, 2007

That fateful day...

Venue: Eck African Seminar, PH, Nigeria, August 2000
Catwalq is at the Seminar Services desk welcoming people. Both Francophone and anglophone.

French Guy: Allo

Catwalq: Hello, Bienvenue.

French Guy: Oh, Merci, ou est le bureau de change (where is the bureau de change?) I here, Ivory Coast. No naira.

Catwalq( nodding seriously): Excusez moi, je ne parle pas francais. un moment ( i am sorry, I don't speak french. One moment. let me get someone)

Catwalq: eh, Naija French Speaking Bobo, can you please help this guy from Ivory Coast? You speak french abi?

NFSB: yes, where is he from?

Catwalq: Ivory Coast.

NSFB: Aaah, Cote D'voire.

Catwalq: No, Ivory Coast.

NSFB: (tone very superior and patronising) yes, cote d'voire is french for Ivory Coast.

French Guy: (nods in agreement. looks at catwalq funny)

Catwalq: (looks at ground. it doesn not open. Counts number of witnesses: about twelve)

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

I thought I was in love. I was knocking twenty and had never had a boyfriend. I desperately wanted this to be real. My adoloescence was leaving me and retreating to a distant memory devoid of all the silliness and carefree living that all my girlfriends had experienced.

Whilst they were swooning over improperly penned love letters and saccharine sweet romantic dalliances, I was poring over university brochures and countless novels. I was always odd amongst my friends even though I fit in with the crowd. Fiercely outspoken and intensely imaginative, I always wished that I too could have a very generic type tale to tell whenever my friends and I gathered for a hang. I never did. Even as I feverently prayed that things would change.

He was everything I wanted in a man. I was young, had no references against which I could compare him but I knew he was what I wanted. He was intelligent, suave and extremely funny. He and I shared a kin sense of humour. He got my jokes. I got his jokes. We read the same books. He was intrigued by all the things that I told him I had seen as well as those that I was planning to see. He lived alone, was working after having sailed through school abroad (where I wanted to go) on a scholarship (like I wished for). His mother was the woman I wanted to be when I grew up. His sister was an architect like I was planning to be. He was a youth leader and advisor in church.

He was tall, and his black skin shone like only a man from the river belt could. His hands were large but gentle; I knew because anytime he touched me, whether just to get my attention or to help me after I slipped in shoes that were not made for walking, I burned the feeling in my mind; my unexplored desires bubbling up to the surface like the inferno of a volcano.

My mother noticed it. Maybe because she had never seen me that animated around anyone before. neither had she seen me suddenly taken with my appearance. i was suddenly worried if he had seen whatever I was planning to put on that day. For the first time in my life as a female I fantasized about what it would mean if we could nurture our relationship till when it was right and we got married, what my first name would sound like next to his. Luckily, my mother was half itsekiri, half Yoruba, so I had access to and experience with his culture. i wondered if I could endure the dressing. I started trying my hands out at preparing what I had deduced was his favorite dish.

I confided in my best friend who was stunned that I felt that way. I had been pegged in school as the "most likely to beat up her husband herself". I hadn't liked the title but I was kind of glad that people were able to deduce that I was a no-nonsense person. My friend got to work trying to find out if he was involved with anyone. He was 25 going on 35 and I was 19 going on 30. We were going to be perfect together.

Then, at a party that I had spent ages getting ready for cos he was going to be there, he introduced me to his girlfriend. I died as I shook her hand. That was the day that I knew without a doubt that I had a chance at acting. My mother was sure she had been hallucinating about me and my friend felt she had imagined our past conversations about him. The girlfriend was perfect. She was just the kind of woman I knew he would have picked. She was funny, lively and very beautiful. I hated her because I liked her alot. He watched for my reaction, like he was anxious for me to accept her. He introduced me to her as his baby sister. he was the last child of his mother and so, he had always been the baby. Everyone thought that was cute. My stomach was churning.

Why would he want you? I asked myself. You are too fat, too dark, too short, stoo chatty, too young....every flaw I felt one could have, I drummed up as a reason why he could not be mine. I was so pained, i was numb. I began to tell myself that what they had would not last. I wondered if I prayed, maybe God would bring him to ME. Then, I realised that was an insult to God and to him. he was happy, clearly that is why God had brought him and her together. I even fell ill. My mother blamed it on my erractic eating habits. She tried to talk to me, to get me to talk to her. I brushed her worries aside and blamed it on my quest for admission. She bought it. i was studying for A levels, Jamb and SATs. I had alot on my plate.

Maybe, they would not last. Maybe... I'll wait.

I am sitting in front of my computer. His email is short as usual and filled with all I want to hear,except... he as proposed and she has accepted.

Friday, June 29, 2007

With Whom am I to be vexed?!!!!

Na so God take internship bless me dis summer after I don pray tire. For those who don't know, that means that I have to register my internship as a class as the American government will not allow me to work. I mean at 23, still requiring pocket money is grounds for all sorts of disrespect. E remain small, I almost comot my aunty pikin head when e ask me when I go pack comot from im mama apartment go my own; afterall, all the other women wey im sabi get am for car and house. me I just dey dey watch tv all day.

So anyways, back to my internship story. I now rallied around and generated the $500+ to register the course( i mean I have to pay to work) and went to almost five buildings (one of them does not count cos it is a renovated container/trailer) just to get signatures, documents, stamps, u-name-ity so that my immigration documents will show that I am allowed to work. The firm sef don tell me say, I gats to get it all done by Friday if I want to get paid so I was flying up and down in the bastard hot sun. At the final stage, the international students services office, as I awaited the advisor to put me in the SEVIS system. one of my guys from Trinidad and Tobago was commenting that I it might be a better idea to walk around with a bucket instead of a handkerchief, because it was like I swam into the office in my own sweat. Na im I laugh kon tell the guy say "My broda, dis country is precious o". We come begin laugh all the many "interesting" things Yankee gets to offer international students.

Apparently the exec assistant (or something like that was listening; she is American). Na im she come ask me if university dey my country? I look the woman, I look my friend.
"I was just curious to know if y'all got colleges back in your own country." she open mouth explain herself. I blink once, where she dey carry dis one go?
"Yes," My friend too answer. Im even talk say for im own country,university is now free. ( I see pple hopping to the Trini embassy in Lagos now)
Na im dis woman come slap me and my friend without lifting her hand.
"I mean, for all of you who choose to come here for an education," na she dey talk am dey go o, "and y'all complain so much, why don't you stay back in your country? I mean if America is so bad, why don't you stay in your own home?"

Ladies and gentlemen, has anyone ever talked true (excuse d english but I am writing my thoughts verbatim) and the thing pain u to the point way tears form but shame no gree make dem fall? Na so the woman's words come be like dat kin dirty water wey pepper sellers dey throw-way for market. I mean, she is goddamn right!

Why should I be relegated to a numerical identity all because I seek an education and an environment that rewards my efforts accordingly, allows me to explore all my talents and become the best I can be? Why, if not that the alternative is an invigilator refusing me my exam papers after my parents had spent thousands on a private tutor and I, many sleepless nights preparing for my JAMB, all because I refused to "settle" like everyone else in the class? Why should I have to flee my father's land cos as an outspoken woman, I might say something to offend someone in a cult and he/she/they will organise to have what limbs I escaped Igbobi with? Why did I have to flee to a country whose currency's exchange rate to the naira was once 2:1? Why did I have to be up at 4 am to make the 6 am line at the embassy bearing documents endorsing all my family's property; property which on average, their pple cannot boast off? Why do Americans have the misconception that upon discovering that I am Nigerian, i must be wealthy/ Afterall, most of the others they have met, live large, don't work and are the offspring of government officials.

I was very embarrassed by the woman's question and I could not tell her that in as much that she, her government and her fellow citizens seek ways to humiliate me and my people everyday we remain on their land, it is not as bad as the degradation my people face each day at the hands of their own motherland blood. Even as each day passes and graduation becomes less of an illusion and more of a glaring reality, I ask myself, will there be a place for me at home when I return? If there is, will I be able to be a productive and effective member of society? If there isn't, then with whom am I to be vexed?!!!!

Monday, June 18, 2007


i think I need a boyfriend.
Or just maybe a lover.
No, I think I need a boyfriend. I am fed up of these few and far between unsubstantiated dalliances. Ladies and gentlemen, I need to find my Sheik now!!!!
*sigh* This is what watching Oxygen and Lifetime does to you. Then when you add a full dosage of a string Bollywood hits where women effortlessly have hot men (who dance "questionably")pining and singing after them just because they wore a wet saree, you suddenly start wishing for your own bollywood story.
What story am I to tell?
Where is my stash of M & Bs?

What's My Blog Rated? From Mingle2 - Free Online Dating

Mingle2 - Free Online Dating

No wonder I am lonesome. My blog life even sucks men. I am not edgy enough. U know what things are about to change

Friday, June 1, 2007

Mummy and I

Over the phone. Time: 6.30 am(my time), 12.30 pm(her time)

Mummy: hello, hello, hello...Catwalq?

Me(slurred): Yes, hello, mummy

Mummy: Where have you been? Did you not see any of my missed calls? I left you five messages.

Me: By the time I saw them, it was too late for me to call you.

Mummy: I was very worried. It's not like you to go missing like that.

Me: Why? I was not missing. Did I not just speak to you like yesterday? The phone was on vibrate. What is going on?

Mummy: I should ask you that. How are you feeling? I hope you have not started eating stupidly again. You know you don't take dissappointments well.

Me: What?

Mummy: Don't 'what' me. I heard you over the phone asking for the "largest drink that they had."

Me: Mum, it was a soda. I have told you I don't drink alcohol.

Mummy: And I always thank the lord because kani u did ni, that will be what you will be using to drown your issues like all those...

Me: (cutting in) Mummy it is about six in the morning...

Mummy: What is that supposed to mean?

Me: Nothing, I...
Mummy: I should get off the phone for you? (voice has risen)

Me: No I did not say that, I am just like...

Mummy: And here I have been worrying myself sick; making calls trying to see how I can get you some money even if it is only five hundred and your are asking me to get off your phone?

Me: I did... (mo daran/ I am in trouble now)

Mummy: You were the one hungering to go to the US to study and now all these issues. First with your cousin, me loosing my job and this internship we had so banked upon getting lost. Do you think I like what you and your brother are going through?

Me: I am sorry.

Mummy: Well, if you do not want to talk to me, then you hang up. I don't know why you called me and told me that the programme did not work out if you did not want to talk with me about it.

Me: I always call you first...

Mummy: Hang up now, se I am bothering you (voice is soft and childlike...emotional blackmail mode switching into gear, tread softly)

Me: Mumm...

Mummy: I called, maybe we can pray together. I sent your brother to go and put credit on the phone and I was waking up every hour to try and reach you but you sound like you have everything under control so u can go.

Me: I am sorry. I did not mean to be rude. I was just scared when you said you had been trying to find me. (placating and cajolling) You know that I always want to talk to you. You can call me anytime even if it is in the middle of the night.

Mummy: That is what you always say but apparently it is not true. Otherwise you would have picked up all my calls.

Me: The phone was on vibrate.

Mummy: I do not know why you have a cell phone if you do not pick up.

Me: The phone was on vibrate.

Mummy: God forbid there should be an emergency.

Me: The phone was on vibrate.

Mummy: (silence)

Me: (silence)

Mummy: (silence)

Me: (silence)

Mummy: (to someone in the background; probably my brother) abi omo yi i ti hang up ni? (Or did this child hang up on me?)

Me: Hellooo mum, am still here o

Mummy: I was about to say. The slap I would have sent your way would have set your brain aright...hang up on me...o o to be (you will not dare)

Me: (agreeing) Lai lai. So what's up?

Mummy: Nothing. I just wanted to see if there had been any development with your dean.

Me: Sort of. He has been making calls and calling in favours trying to get me a placement. I have wasted three weeks and though that is not good, I am very hopeful.

Mummy: (sigh) And I know you have no money

Me: Yes

Mummy: (exclaims) Heeey!!! Olorun joo ( God please)

Me: Don't worry, I am fine.

Mummy: U are still at your aunt's house?

Me: Yes.

Mummy: Please tell her that only God can thank her for me for all she has done for us. I hope you are behaving yourself and helping her keep her house well. Don't say because she lets you that you will eat all her food. Remember what you looked like when ypu were fat...and your health.

Me: Yes, mummy. (changing the topic) What are you doing?

Mummy: I am going to Akure to go meet your dad. There is a spiritual seminar. We have to tackle all our issues from all sides. A family that prays together...

Me: ...belongs to the same faith

Mummy: U r really quite stupid.

Me: Sorry. I am just saying.

Mummy: Well, that is one. I have just paid the rent. Your daddy brought what he could, I ran around and so we have settled the landlord, three months later.

Me: Thank God, now no shaking.

Mummy: Yes O. Oh, and we have a new president.

Me: I know, Uncle Yara on-the-dialysis-machine.

Mummy: Haaaa, Catwalq-i, only God will forgive you.

Me: But that is what they said, and there were pictures to back it up. I even heard that he collapsed and had to be rushed to Germany.

Mummy: Where are you hearing all these things?

Me: On the internet

Mummy: Is that what you are doing with your time?

Me: Yup. for now. abi, what else do I have doing but eating, browsing the net and watching movies telling myself that I can write a better script.

Mummy: You better start writing that script so you can sell it and send you and your brother to school so that your father and I can sleep in peace. We are not young any more, if you don't know. I should marry you off and collect bride price but with your intelligence only God knows what I will be able to get.

Me: That will be your fault having kids in your late thirties. You guys have always been old meen.

Mummy: enu e( your mouth)

Me: About our presie, I heard that he is the first in that position to hold a collegiate degree.

Mummy: o ti o (na lie)

Me: Yes o. na so we see am.

Mummy: I mean, I knew Baba Iyabo did not go to school but what about Zik and others.

Me: Ibo ni wan to fe ri? (where would they have found one to attend?) which others, Abacha or Shagari?

Mummy: May be he will be able to better manage this administration

Me: Let us pray that he is. Is Omo Mummy (younger bro) going with u?

Mummy: No, we can't all go. Saving up for the portharcourt seminar.

Me: Ok

Mummy: What about Bomboy Rascal?( Aunty's seven yr old son)

Me: Sleeping. No one is up yet. they should be actually

Mummy: ehn ehn

Me: poor boy, aunty ti kanran mo omo naa titi wan lo sun last night ( aunty was irritable towards him till they went to bed last night)

Mummy: ki lo sele? (what happened)

Me: His friends told his mum that he did well in the class math quiz and she was ecstatic until she realised that he got 14 out of 21. She nearly bit his head off when he started singing along with Rihanna on the radio. She thought he got a hundred percent and found out his grade infront of the other parents who were also eager to hear what he got with the way his classmates were advertising and endorsing him.

Mummy: Aaah, eeyah. How did his classmates get involved?

Me: I did not tell you that Bomboy had gone to school to tell them that he was an African prince and heir to a throne?

Mummy: Eh-eh (bursts out laughing) but in a way it is true. He will just have to kill about three hundred families before he can get to the throne of Lagos.

Me: He now has supporters and subjects probably hoping to relocate to the Africa from Coming-to-America.

Mummy: Hun? What does that mean?

Me: Coming To America? Eddie Murphy? Zimunda? Can't you remember?

Mummy: What?

Me: The movie where he was an African prince who came to the US looking for a bride.

Mummy: Ehn-ehn, yes

Me: You have no idea what I am talking about, do you?

Mummy: No

Me: Well, they created this Africa of perfection.

Mummy: Ehn-ehn ( getting lost in the conversation)

Me: When are you leaving for Akure?

Mummy: When I get off this phone, Omo Mummy will take me to the bus park. Infact, I should be off now. Seems like you holding strong.

Me: Where r u going to? After waking me up from sleep. I was dreaming that I was dating a rich and powerful sheik who built a house of gold and diamonds for me...u better stay and gist with me.

Mummy: Oniranu (useless person), I hope you memorized his number so you can call him to come and fix your financial worries...wo, (look) I am going now, ok

Me: So, you don't want to talk to me, Okay o hang up now.

Mummy: Do you want to talk to your brother before all the credit is gone? (to my brother) you want to talk to your sister?

Me: No, tell him that he is an ugly mushueshue but I love him and he should hang on

Mummy: (repeats the message)
He said you are a goat.

Me: It is not his fault. If I was there, I would bless him with a hot slap.

Mummy: You better have a ladder because there is no way you will reach his face. Short rat.

Me: (gasp, feigned hurt) U are so mean

Mummy: (evil chuckle) My child, don't worry ehn, everything will work out. God is not asleep on us. Take care, ehn

Me: Amen...are you going to leave me here after disrupting my sleep?

Mummy: Bye joo

Me: U are going to hang up?

Mummy: Yes. Love you. Be strong. You are not alone. Remember that you must pray. That is the only way we will get through this faze

Me: So u r going to hang up?

Mummy: *hiss* bye jare, ok, bye. (hangs up)

Friday, May 25, 2007

The scourge of anonymity

Lately, blogs that I love have been bombarded with some literary deviants posting rude and senseless comments under the name "Anonymous". While I am an advocate of free speech and I am always open to listen to opinions other than mine, I would like to ask that people refrain from using blog commentary as a means to defame someone's character.

If u don't know how to say what u feel in an intelligent and educated way, then keep quiet and move on. If I do not like something, I try to say it as politely as I can. Heaping curses and insults on someone ( whom you apparently do not know) is a characteristic of a lack of good upbringing. And that is why Naija cannot move forward because most of you with complaints are so busy insulting others and not proferring any solutions to what u consider the problem...

Racquelle-Cutie, Bella Naija and Babaalaye have had their blogs made victim to this waste of words. Let me say this: Not everything you read on a blog is true and so for those who have built this fantasy in their heads about whom the individuals behind blogs are, you might be pleasantly/ unpleasantly surprised to find out that the person is just an aspiring writer, scrimping and saving his income to pay for time at the cyber cafe so that he/ she can post his thoughts and ideas online.

Let's blog free and happy. Take from the writers the things that you can apply to your everyday life and progress with it. Some offer us humor as their all purpose elixir; others, their take on current events or their analysis of an issue of interest. I love blogging and reading what I like to consider the creativity of some of the brightest minds my country has to offer. If you do not agree, it is your right to do so. But as in all things we have to have some modicum of decorum and personal ethics when we sit at a keyboard and manifest our thoughts into words.

Remember (if we are to take the bible as a source), it was spoken words that manifested life.
The written word is just as powerful.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Dear Mrs. Jolade Ekeinde,

I just finished watching one of your movies "The Woman In Me" and I can rightfully say that you have put my over inflated impression of my butt to shame. What I used to shake with pride are mosquito bites compared to what you are carrying. I am a woman but GAD DAMN!!!!
I will appreciate it if you can tell me what it is that is part of your diet to result in that contraption that escorts you everywhere you go. I mean, you were in profile and had moved two frames across the screen and your derriere was still coming after you.
I am not even sure what the movie was about though it came in two parts and four cds. My aunt and I just spent over an hour discussing how we can elevate our "defense" status in the general direction of your stats.
We would appreciate any assistance towards the attainment of our above stated goal.
Thank you in anticipation of a favourable reply

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Discard with...

No worries. Rayo gave me the hook up and so all the blogs that I stalk on a daily basis are listed on your right...


Can someone please show me how to create links to other blogs. U know, like on the side of your page where u can list all your fave blogs and u just click on them and be connected right through.
I have tried everything; maybe my eyes are not working but I cannot find anything in my settings to get it done.
Ehn, Biko nu

Wednesday, May 9, 2007


I do not know if you are familiar with this picture/post and ensuing hulla-balloo I am sorry that I have not yet figured out how to make short links to other posts. However:

Dare Obasanjo ( son of our about-to-be ex president) posted a picture of a domestic servant in the employ of his father at the presidential villa. the man looked dejected and deprived. the room in which he sat lacked even the most basic amenities required to make a room look like it was lived in. A mattress covered with a faded sheet of floral fabric lay on the floor and the man sat next to it under a window. In the caption under the picture, Dare referred to him as a "servant". The world took notice and people in blog ville started shouting.

I was not surprised that he had called the man a servant. The word servant has been made derogatory by man. God is the greatest servant of all but man has succeeded in dehumanising those who are in his service.

What I was more surprised about was that a servant living in our presidential villa looked like a homeless person and that Dare's comment on the backlash following the posting was that he hoped he had given people a chance to vent and that he was amused that they were all so concerned even though they had "abandoned their country".

I am glad this is a blog because in that one moment of reading that statement, resentment and disgust flooded my insides. I was not angry at him but rather at myself and the rest of my brethren. When we let thieves and rogues populate our senate, house of assemblies and gubernatorial positions, destroy our infrastructure and cause us to become second class citizens in foreign lands in our quest for peace and better futures, what do we expect as intellect from one of their children?

His father likes to think that he has done a lot of good and taken our country to another level. Yes he has. He has surrounded himself with alot of ass-kissing criminals that shade his view of how much the country has fallen apart and promoted the legalization of corruption. He is never quite aware of the gravity of the situation. Does anyone remember January 2002 when the explosions happened at the Barracks in Lagos and our dear president showed up surrounded by his retinue of imbecilic ministers and protocol officers completely decked in expensive lace to shout at the devastated families that he did not need to be there when they bombarded him with their cries of distress. Twenty minutes later, he was whisked away to another part of the country where he was wined and dined to the glory of his position and it was only when he saw the backlash that he was given a complete picture of what had happened and he issued a public apology. He has always had an over inflated view of himself (claiming he had to wait for God's directive to run for re-election; is he the only one that talks to God?) and so he has been easy to push to the role of a figurehead kept complacent and occupied with people who come to heap false praises at his feet. I wonder when he realised that he was seriously disgracing himself and his country taking international trips like no business and did any one ever hear the gists of Stella's pilferring.

Dare might not know and then again he might. Irrespective, he has been desensitized towards the bigger picture which is shame because I know for a fact that his father started off as a soldier and thus was not always wealthy. What makes me panic is that it is people like him that will be handed the reigns of the country by all their connections whilst those of us that really want to make a difference and just simply want a country where your efforts are rewarded equally and your aspirations have a chance of being realised.

My parents really were not going to send me abroad. The money was not there and at this moment, it still isn't and our prayers always ask for a legal miracle. After my mother witnessed how I was blackballed at my JAMB examination because I refused to pay the invigilators, she saw how futile her and my father's efforts to raise my brother and I in Nigeria to be upstanding and honest citizens were going to be. I left with money generated from the sale of our only house. I left as the older one to try and make a way for my family. I did not desert my country. It had no future ahead for me if at one point in time, I did not want to be caught up in social infrastructure failure, corruption and bribery, sexual harassment with no laws to defend my honour, marriage to fufil societal obligations and an every day struggle. I left because I wanted to know that there was a place were effort was rewarded in its exact proportions.

The white man's land is not really better. It has very little history that was not dependent upon the destruction and sabotage of others.

I am going to return. I only beg God that when I do, I do not have to deal with the Dare Obasanjos, his father's generation or others of the same breed of ignorance and self serving attitudes

Saturday, April 28, 2007

So, i woke up way too early today to attend a luncheon organised and sponsore by LINKS. An women's only organisation. Imagine AKA meets church group. I mean white tights and ankle length skirts, huge corsages and a choice of either coiffed or wind blown hair.

As I was saying...because myself and the two girls representing the international student body at the university did not have cars we had to hitch a ride with one of then organisation's members who had to be there about two hours before the event itself had to begin.

We arrive and the three of us are nearly paralysed to realise that the average age in the room is between 55 and 60. And also, they had not yet set up so we found ourselves having to help out. Hoisting foldable chairs in four inch hills is not an experience I want to repeat.
Plus we stood out something bad...the three of us: One trinidadian in a halter dress and fuck-me pumps, the other in a i-go-to-church-but-only-to-see-if-I-can-jump-the-pastor's-bones kinda dress and finally moi in a green and black ensemble complete with gele reminiscent of a candidate for Ovation's middle pages.

then the maintenance guys were trying to hit on all three of us at the same time; like I am just hot to jump in bed with someone whose stomach puts an eight month pregancy to shame. YummieAnyways, two hours and fifty times introducing myself (talking slowly and saying my name, school, major and country) later the event starts.

Students from two other colleges in the district have arrived and so we have brought down the age average to about 45. Was no mean fit too. If we had been short even as little as two people, we would not have made it.

The highlight of the event was not the ear drum splitting Nigerian opera singer in her mismatched blue lace (with silver detail) and bright orange Aso Oke...No, it was the talk given by the guest speaker, Faida Mitifu; Ambassador The Democratic Republic of Congo.

She spoke so eloquently on her country, its past and what it aspired for the future. What it had gone through under a 20 year long dictatorship and the ensuing wars it had to suffer to free itself; what it meant that 86% of eligible voters participated in the past election to intstall the current president after factions had been torn apart.

I was even more shamed when she talked about what women in the Congo had endured as victims of the war: suffering physical and horrendous sexual abuse at the hands of various militia and I had only been minutes before thinking about where I was going to get the money to get another pair of shoes. Anyways, the event was quite nice and enlightening.

Trust Americans and their fear of fire, salt and pepper. the meat had pink in it. I looked at it and gasped out loud. The chef pleased at my "obvious" delight at his masterpiece smiles and tells me "It is medium rare lamb chops.

I smiled and slowly moved forward towards the sweet rolls. If man was supposed to eat raw animals, we would still be living next door to brother lion and sister leopard and fire would be an aspiration.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Where I found myself online
I really cannot tell you how I got to this lady's website. All I know was that I had somehow begun reading abput life in Dubai. A place to which I am trying to organize a year long study abroad programme.
It is amazing to me how all the laws out there benefit the man and inhibit the woman and if someone there tells me a story abour Adam and Eve, I will slap you. that is just to show u that Adam was a mugu. Just chopping everything handed to him. Luckily the first one to learn how to read and write started to put things in order to ensure that his muguness did not land him in too much trouble.
For all that did...look at the world today