Suicidal questions to ask Ngo…

Good morning people…

How was your weekend? I had one of those stayed-indoors-from-Friday-to-Monday-morning weekends. I didn’t go anywhere… my neighbours probably think I’m dead.

I got some much needed rest though… the last couple of weeks have been really hectic! Did I mention that my baby brother is around? I’ve been looking forward to his visit since the beginning of the month. In fact, since the beginning of the year! Before now, I hadn’t seen him in over THREE years!!! It’s just been phone calls, texts and MTCN numbers the whole time… ( ._.)

Anyway, recently, I’ve been having conflicts with a few people who I feel are trying to take advantage of me… 🙁

You see, one of the worst things about being jobless unemployed between jobs, apart from constantly being broke, is how much of my time gets wasted by other people. One of the things I value most is my time! And lately, I seem to have come across certain people who have an urgent need to help me waste it.

I’ve gotten offers to babysit (for free)…

I’ve been asked to be a Math tutor to a boy who has the attention span of a bar of soap and yet somehow knows all the words to P-Square’s “Alingo”.

I’ve been asked to be a dietician slash training instructor slash weight-loss expert to a woman who doesn’t realize that the only people who “eat for three” are women who are pregnant with twins.

Personal chef, personal assistant and a few more… ALL FOR FREE!

I used to just say, “Sorry, I’m busy”… but I decided that it sounded silly coming from an unemployed person. So now, I simply say, “I’m sorry, I would love to help but I really don’t have the time.”

Smart people reply, “Ok… no problem.”

Sensitive people ask, “Really? Are you working on something now?”

Suicidal people declare, “But you’re not doing anything na!!!” to which I reply, “Well, we just re-painted our house and I’m very busy watching the paint dry… and you know we have a LOTTA walls.”

Here’s the part I don’t get; When some of them hear ‘No’, they get very upset.

And it could be anything else too… not just time.

It’s like your girlfriend who doubles as your accounts officer. She’s constantly calculating your salary for you; After paying tithes, paying his mortgage, he’ll send some money to his mother in the village who has refused to die, he should keep something aside as savings, maybe a lil’ something for his wife and kids, there should be 50% of his salary left, of which I deserve HALF!!

Or the horny idiot who lives next door… He’s thinking to himself; She’s single, she lives alone… guys don’t come around and I’m sure she’s straight, even though she jogs like someone with slight lesbian tendencies. And I can tell by the way she spits at my windshield every time she walks by that she digs me. I should be allowed to “hit that”… in fact, I deserve exclusive “ass-tapping” rights.

My thoughts are scattered today but I hope you guys can see where I’m going with this… It’s just so frustrating that at every turn, there’s someone somewhere trying to take advantage of a situation. And I keep wondering, where the hell do people just get this sense of entitlement? No one owes you SHIT!!!

If you see something you like, it’s ok to want it… it’s ok to ask for it… but you have no right to get upset when you hear “No”.

Parting words;

–          Your boyfriend doesn’t owe you shit… he has other girlfriends to take care of!! Make your own money!

–          If I took out time to teach neighbor A’s child how to make cupcakes, it doesn’t mean I have time to teach your kid. Chances are that I will shove her in the oven along with the cakes. Buy a Cookery book and teach her yourself!

–          And to you boys, it’s my ‘P’ to decide whether or not it will be set and who will do the setting… If p-setter A was successful, it doesn’t mean p-setter B will be. Get a bottle of Jergens or get over it!!

Now I’m just pissed all over again…

Shaaaaawers of blessing! Showers of blessing we need…

Good morning people.

I sliced off four of my toes yesterday… ( ._.)

Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit. What happened was, I was trying to get on a bus and I cut myself on the jagged rusty edge of the door. So, as we speak, there’s a bus somewhere with a piece of smooth velvety caramel skin dangling from the bottom of the door. Believe me when I say, it hurt like a MOTHA!!! Being a true aje-butter, I yelled “Ouch!”. But no one paid me any attention. The other passengers completely ignored me. So I sat quietly behind the driver and fought hard to keep tears from falling (like a brave little soldier) 🙁

Maybe it was because I yelled “Ouch” and not “Ewo!!” or “Yekpa!!”.  My “ouch” probably made it seem like an unserious injury. Blood started to trickle down my foot and into my shoes. Then I tried to put pressure on the wound with my hanky. When I brought my hanky back up, covered in blood, everyone, including the driver, started chorusing “sorry” and “doh” and “kpele”. Some offered me tissue and hankies. A lady even suggested that someone get pure water so I could wash my foot.

By then, I was annoyed… You can’t imagine how much I wanted to tell them to kindly shove their “sorries” up their asses. I know ‘sorry’ wouldn’t have fixed my skin or made the pain go away, but it would’ve been nicer to hear it BEFORE I lost 3pints of blood.

Then, on my way back, in a different bus, I was unlucky enough to sit beside this tall slim dude. He looked quiet and trouble-free so I said “Good morning” and took the seat beside him. He replied saying, “Welcome my sister”. His reply was a tad bit over-enthusiastic I thought, and his smile was too wide but since he didn’t have RAPIST written anywhere on his forehead, I stayed. Just as the bus started to move, the dude got up, adjusted his pants high up his waist and turned round to face the back of the bus.

Then he began to preach.

I didn’t mind that he was preaching… it was quite fun listening to him give incredible testimonies. My favourite was the one about a girl who had been bedridden since she was “wan years of hage”. She was now 28 and still very sick. The doctors had given up, she was sent home, she even died, yadda yadda yadda, he prayed for her and viola! she came back to life and was healed. I also didn’t mind that he was shouting at the top of his voice… he had to so that the people at the back of the bus could hear him (it was a big bus).

What I had a problem with was the drizzle shower rain downpour  tsunami of spit that he released upon my head during the sermon. Because I was right next to him, he was literally standing over my head and showering me with spit blessings from above…

It was at that point, squished in a rickety bus with all sorts of people with hair wet with spit, that I became overwhelmed with self pity and I started to cry. I cried for my lost skin… I cried for the job interview that ended up being a complete waste of my time… I cried cos I was afraid that the preacher’s spit would seep through my empty, hairless scalp and get into my brain… I cried because Destiny’s Child might never get back together. I cried for everything under the sun. It was just one of those days… 🙁

Don’t worry, I didn’t disgrace you guys… it wasn’t a war cry. I wasn’t wailing or anything like that. The tears just kept falling silently.

I’m not writing this to get pity cos I’m feeling much better now!!! Just wanted to gist you about how horrible yesterday was…

Besides, it’s all part of my crap and you guys gotta read it :p

Have a great day people!

Dubleew dubleew dot NSCDC dot cum…

Good morning people… How’ve you guys been?

Last week was terribly busy… My friend came into town and I was the (self-appointed) chaperon. She had places to go and people to see so we were constantly on the move, going from one end of town to another. This friend of mine is a very close friend, but in reality, we don’t have very much in common. I met a lot of her friends and, as is always the case with us, I found that I didn’t have too much in common with her friends either.

They weren’t all bad… some were nice enough and it was a genuine pleasure to meet them. Some I felt like throwing over the edge of a cliff just to see if they could fly or, if not, how much of a mess their brains would make on the ground at the bottom of the cliff.

By the third day however, I was tired. I got tired of always having to defend myself, or explain why I am the way I am and why I’m not EXACTLY like them. Eventually, I was able to convince myself that the chances of her being robbed, kidnapped or beheaded in my absence were slim, so I quit my volunteer job as chaperon… she’s been doing her running around alone. She’s still alive and well and un-kidnapped. Our friendship took a slight bruising but we’ll be fine 🙁

Anyway, I wasn’t so busy that I didn’t know what was going on around me…

I think I’m the only person who hasn’t yet cracked a ‘My oga at the top’ joke. Before that embarrassing interview, the term ‘My oga at the top’ was just vernacular for missionary position. Now, thanks to the retarded twit, we won’t hear the end of it…

Yes, I laughed my ass off when I first watched it. In fact, I laughed the first 53 times I watched the video… but by the 54th viewing, I started to get irritated. 55th I was angry. 56th I wanted his resignation. 72nd I wanted his entire lineage wiped out.

Why, you ask. Well, I was reminded of my days as a youth corper when I served as a Biology teacher in a government secondary school. There were French teachers whose only knowledge of French was “Ménage à trois”… then we had science teachers who couldn’t properly balance a chemical equation. You guys can’t imagine how badly the students were affected by this. And it was those kinds of teachers who had visions of moving up the ladder and maybe one day becoming Principal of a school!!

So, no, I didn’t feel bad when I heard about his suspension. I think he should use this time to sit in front of his mirror every day and recite the words ‘World Wide WEB’ over and over again. And he should learn that most websites end with dot-cum and not ‘dasol’ (that’s all).

I also learned a new language some days ago. I only know a few words (a few bad words) but I’m hoping that with time I will get better. I was learning to speak Ijaw (Bayelsa Ijaw). It’s actually not a difficult language… Let me teach you;

‘Confused’ in Ijaw is ‘Ebele’.

‘F*@kfaced’ is ‘Goodluck’.

‘Wanker’ is ‘Jonathan’.

We can form a sentence using those three words;

Eg. Goodluck Ebele Jonathan is a goodluck ebele jonathan.

You see how easy it is? I’ll let you guys know when I learn more but this is essentially all there is to know…

When I heard that GEJ pardoned Alamie-whatever, I thought maybe he wanted to hire him as a personal stylist and make-up artist for Dame Patience. But alas! I was wrong…

It’s extra painful for me because I’ve always been a secret GEJ supporter. I always say I’m not a fan, but I really am (or used to be). I didn’t use his picture as my Facebook profile picture (like my sister did) but I believed him because at that point in time, I felt he was the lesser of many evils.

Due to recent events, I’m therefore using this forum to officially renounce all things GEJ…

…and any one (lawyer, barrister or whoever) who tries to use legalese to confuse me by telling me that there’s a difference between a presidential “pardon” and “clemency” is just a jonathan who is as goodluck as our president :p

Have a blessed week people…

Those in favour say “Aye”… all those opposed say ‘Aye’ too. The ‘Ayes’ have it!!

Hey people…

I didn’t put anything up here yesterday but it feels like I haven’t spoken to you in ages and I actually missed you guys. I can’t explain it but that’s how I felt… 🙁

I had a very nice weekend though cos a friend of mine came over on Sunday and we had pepper soup and talked about everything under the sun, then we looked at pictures of hot, half naked girls on girls on facebook ;-)… I had a really nice time cos I wasn’t expecting him. (Thanks sweetie!!!!)

Anyway, apparently last week was all about the women… We had International Fish Brain Women’s Day during the week, then it was Mother’s Day on Sunday.

I decided I was going to shut up since I didn’t have anything good or positive to say on those days, but then I thought; since when has that ever stopped me? On a good day, half the shit that falls out of my mouth is X-rated and unproductive so why stop now?

You see, I’m one of those people (or probably the only person in this world) who thinks that women are to blame for a lot of the things that have gone wrong and are still going wrong in the world today. And I’m not even referring to the apple-eating-Garden-of-Eden incident that most men use as an example…

It’s a personal belief I’ve held for a very long time but I don’t like to share it because I sound mad whenever I try to explain it 🙁 But, today I’m going to try…

You guys remember Hitler right? He had a mistress who later became his wife… right?

There was Idi Amin who married at least five wives…

And Josef Stalin who married twice…

Abacha, before he died on top of national ho’s, had Miriam…

Osama Bin Laden also married about five times.

For a lot of us, unless your dad is gay, he left you and your mum for who? Another woman…

Do you guys see where I’m going with this? When I think of women, it’s these women who come to mind. Weak, selfish, nut-jugglers who stay silent in the face of the evil that men (their men) do because they benefit from it. You’re probably wondering why I focus on these ones instead of on the Mother Theresa’s, Michelle Obama’s and Oprah Winfrey’s of the world right? Well, it’s because I think the bad ones still far out-number the good ones… and that’s why the world is the way it is today. I therefore refuse to celebrate International Women’s Day 🙁

Last month, when I saw pictures of Henry Okah’s wife after his sentencing, I was pissed… In the scene, she was crying and how I wished then that a stray bullet would penetrate her cheap lace wig, shatter her skull and pulverize her brains!! Is that too harsh? I don’t care…

It got me thinking… maybe a new bill or law needs to be passed. It would state that; Henceforth, any man found guilty of armed robbery, fraud, terrorism, boko haramism (their own has passed terrorism), rape, kidnapping, extortion, drug trafficking etc, especially when any of these acts leads to the loss of human life, should be arrested and charged accordingly ALONG with his ‘ryde or die chick’, unless said ride or die chick can give sufficient evidence of not being ‘ride or die’ and having no knowledge of her partner’s criminal activities. All those in favour say ‘Aye‘…

To avoid persecution, the woman should be able to prove to the court beyond a reasonable doubt that in the course of their relationship, she did one or more of the following;

1. She asked her man why he only goes to work at night and returns early hours of the morning with blood stained clothes. Is he a midnight butcher?

2. She asked her man why he’s always buying chemicals, wires and detonators. And why does he always get nervous and sweaty around a ticking clock?

3. When presented with gifts such as jewelry, cars, iphones, ipads etc, she refused the gifts and asked her unemployed, 200level undergrad boyfriend how he was able to afford them. And by the way, who is Amanda Tautbottom, the white woman from Australia he’s always chatting with online?

If she can’t show that she did any of these things, she should be executed right beside him… because she is just as guilty.

I’m pissed because, even though I know it’s something both women and men do, I actually expect so much more from women. Every time there’s something in the news about some evil deed that one man committed, I always look out for the ‘ryde or die’ chick in the form of girlfriend, wife, mother or mistress. She will always be there…

So what do I suggest these women do?

Well, I really can’t say exactly, but I know that if Oscar Pistol-rius was my son, by now the police would have a handwritten confession, including cartoon diagrams of how the shooting happened. The case would be closed, an apology would be given to Reeva’s family and I would go and visit him every single week of his life-sentence.

If Jerry Sandusky was my husband, I would’ve poisoned him after he raped the first child. Then I would’ve dismembered him and fed him to wild dogs.

If Osaze Odemwigie was my husband, I would’ve hidden his car keys and deflated his tyres…

I would not be quiet in the face of evil!!! And maybe that’s why I’m still single 🙁 But if we spoke up more, if we put up a fight against evil, if we didn’t act like we don’t know that our daughter’s boyfriend is a married man, maybe the world would be a better place and we I can celebrate a guilt-free International Women’s Day.

Just sayin’ people…




Dear Ngozi, I’m thinking of relocating to Mars…

Good morning people…

This blog is a little over three months old and I just realized that nobody has written in yet.

So you guys mean to tell me that out of all my Facebook friends, my Twitter people and the other people who stumble across here by mistake, not one single one of you has a problem you think I can help you with? There’s no one in a secret gay/lesbian relationship? Afraid to come out of the closet? None of you is having a scandalous affair with your sister-in-law? No STDs? Unwanted pregnancies?


Well, ok… since you’re all perfect…

I’ve got something I need to get off my chest. Before anyone starts getting excited, I can’t tell you exactly what it is. I thought of writing in “anonymously” but all the parties involved would recognize themselves immediately after “Dear Ngozi”… then I would really be in trouble.

The truth is, I didn’t really do anything wrong per se. Honestly. In fact, if I had to appear in a court of law because of this, I would be found Not Guilty by reason of Congy 🙁

But then I sit and think of all the parties involved and I can’t help but feel responsible for the ones who will be hurt or disappointed by this wrong thing I didn’t really do. And the sad part is that the ones who should take full responsibility, seeing as they were the master minds behind it all, they don’t care… they’ve moved on and left me to deal with my over-active conscience.

So I’ve got people’s feelings I need to consider, my reputation and my friendship with the most affected party. I’m trying to deal with it the best way I can right now but I already know that by the time shit hits the propellers, no one is going to want to hear my side of the story, not even my friend. I will be called the Conniving Daughter of Jezebel and will most likely be cast out of society to live in a dark forest with Miss Piggy (my pet pig) eating wild berries and roasted yam and wearing raffia skirts.

Then every time I come out into town to get batteries for my dildo, some new porn and other minor supplies, people will point and say to the little kids, “That’s that evil girl who tried to destroy a great friendship. She now lives in the dark forest… next to Dr Sid.” At the shop, the shop attendants will say to themselves, “If she had kept a steady supply of them dildo batteries in the first place, she wouldn’t be in this mess.”

And I won’t be vindicated till on the day of judgment when God Himself will look you all in the eyes and ask, “Na she sin pass?” Then He’ll explain what really happened and how it happened. And everyone will apologize for sending me to the forest and they’ll give me the keys to the city and make me Mayor of Heaven…

Ok maybe I’m being a bit dramatic…

A friend of mine says I should confess and save my ass. Me, I’m thinking of relocating… to Mars. It’ll just be me, Miss Piggy and Curiosity; no judgement, no men, no alcohol.