He said, she said…

Good morning people…

As usual, I had a horrible weekend. Friday wasn’t so bad… NEPA was good to me that day so we had power most of the day. It was on Saturday that the devil decided that he didn’t like that I was almost smiling.

“How dare she almost smile?!” he roared. “I must put an end to this at once!! If we don’t take our time, she might actually smile or, even worse… BE HAPPY!!!”

*collective gasp from Ghadaffi, Hitler and MJ*

“We must not let that happen! Quick,” satan continued, “call Prof.”

“His nastiness, which Prof should we call?” Whitney asked.

“Call Nedu… Prof Nebo. Tell him to cut power supply to that area. Then call her landlord… say anything to get him upset so that he can call her and transfer his aggression.”

“But, your evilship, why don’t we just call her ourselves?” Abacha asked.

“No, we can’t call her.” said satan, “Unless we port, she’s not going to answer any calls from unknown MTN numbers… and that is our network of choice.”

So, I got a call from the landlord. He was pissed because he heard the carpenters were not working… the carpenters said they couldn’t work because there was no wood… and nobody said anything to me about needing wood the day before. Then the landlord’s brother showed up and gave me hell as well and I was tempted to kick him so far that he lands in the Brazilian rain forest, where he can get an unending supply of wood.

Eventually, I snuck upstairs to see if I could jump off the balcony and kill myself hide from the landlord’s brother, just to get some peace and quiet… I was in my brother’s old room, looking at the sky (I told you the ceiling caved in), when I overheard the carpenters talking on the roof.

They were talking about me!!!

They said a lot, but the summary of it all is that;

  1. I think I know too much.
  2. Oversabi dey worry me.
  3. Serves me right for getting yelled at.

I was hurt… not surprised, not angry, just hurt. I’ll tell you why they said all this…

I do everything myself. I fuel the gen myself, organize water, clean the house, cook… everything. The only thing I can’t do is get on a bike with a gallon to buy fuel… but I have a bike man who does that for me. I also have another guy who gets drinking water for me. Basically, I run this motha!!!

Then the carpenters came. They watched me for a few days and after that, the head carpenter (the Lagbaja wannabe) called me and asked why I don’t ask them to help me with little things around the compound… He said that they would be happy to help me if I needed it. I appreciated the offer and I thanked him but, as is my nature, I didn’t trust it.

I’m so proud that I would rather die by electrocution while changing a bulb, than ask a man to do it for me. I can’t stand the sight of their balls swelling whenever a woman asks them for help.

Anyway, I still didn’t ask them for help with anything… so they decided to do stuff on their own. Whenever they see that I wanna fuel the gen, they come and take the jerrycan from me and do it themselves. They didn’t let me do any heavy lifting. They helped me fill the water drum and when it rained, they cleaned up the water in all the rooms upstairs.

I won’t lie… I enjoyed it while it lasted. Life was easier. And I made sure I thanked them every time they did something for me. But I also made sure I never asked directly. Instead, I would just carry the jerrycan or bucket or whatever and act like it weighed 1000 tonnes… I’ll sigh, wipe non-existent sweat from my fore head and grimace, till one of them comes and does it for me.

One day, after the carpenter helped me bring in a mattress that was drying outside, I said thank you as usual. Then he said, “You no know say you keep foam for outside? So if we no dey, na so this foam for sleep outside?”

His question pissed me off, but I was in a good mood that day. The next day, I asked one of his workers to call him and that one said, “abeg, you too dey disturb person o.”

You can’t imagine my outrage!

And that was how the favours ended… I stopped letting them do things for me, even when they offered. There was no beef, no bad blood or anything… I just decided that the best way to avoid getting insulted was to go back to doing my shit myself.

And that’s why they said all the things they did on Saturday. I haven’t been able to relate with them properly since I overheard them. I can’t smile with them or exchange light banter like before… I’m acting like they do not exist. This morning, the carpenter asked if there was a problem between us and since I couldn’t tell him that his balls have gotten too big, I just said we’re fine. Of course he didn’t buy it… he knows something is wrong.

Their work here is almost done… and I really can’t wait for them to get the fuck outta my house.

Bloody wankers!

Now, I’ve exceeded my limit… I’ll gist you about Sunday in another post. Maybe tomorrow…

Have a lovely week people :-*

Question and Answer session…

Good morning people!

It’s been a while hasn’t it?…

Mother was around over the weekend. She had attended a church conference just outside of town and after the conference she decided to come into Lagos to visit her daughter’s sister 😀

She finally left yesterday morning. I wasn’t in tears when she left, I wasn’t sad or devastated, but it was nice that for once, I didn’t do cartwheels of joy as she was on her way out. For once, she came, spent a few days and left with no stab wounds or head injuries. In other words, it was more or less a peaceful visit.

Me and my mum are not like the average mother-daughter pair (like the type you see on tv). We don’t talk about men; I can’t tell her about my relationships or my friendswithbeneships… she watches the news a lot, but we don’t talk about that either. I don’t tell her about stuff that goes on in my life. She doesn’t even know I own a blog. It’s just the way it is…

We used to constantly butt heads and people say it is because we are a lot alike. I guess I can see that now that I’m older… I should also mention that I look exactly like her ( . _.)

I remember a long time ago, when we were having serious issues. I went to spend some time with my favourite uncle, who is now late… whenever I had a problem with my mum, he was always on my side. Anyway, on that trip, I met his new wife for the first time. She was amazed at the resemblance between me and my mum and she told me that if my mum died and I went to their village, people would run because they would think my mum had come back to life…

I told her that I was highly interested in testing that theory out ( ._.) Don’t judge me, I was pissed…

One of the spiritual gifts the Lord has blessed my mum with, is the divine ability to ask a question and, in the same breath, answer her question with another question. She already knows the answer and because she knows the answer, she can already guess what you’re gonna say. So what she does is that she will develop a theory and run with it, then build on it till it becomes fact.

When she came on Saturday  I was just out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and her assault began immediately;

Question 1; Why have you lost so much weight?!

Answer; Haven’t you been eating?

Me; Welcome mummy.


Question 2; Why are you looking like this?

Answer; Is this the way you like it?

Me; *silent*


Question 3; Why did you cut your hair?

Answer; Is it because you don’t have money to be making it?

Me; *silent*


Question 4; Don’t you think this place is too dark?

Answer; Why don’t you ever open the curtains?

Me; *silent*

And that’s how it went that Saturday morning. I wasn’t there when she was giving my father her analysis/report but knowing her, by now he thinks that my prolonged state of being unemployed has made me clinically depressed, which has caused a reduction in appetite. The reduction in appetite has in turn led to anorexia. As a result of severe malnutrition, chunks of my hair have fallen off so I cut it to even it out. And also, I’m a vampire slash werewolf who reacts to sunlight…

It’s no wonder she failed Interrogation 101 in the Police Academy… *smh*

Anyway, once I was able to convince her that I’m not clinically depressed, or HIV positive, the rest of the visit was event free.

The roof renovation is on-going and I’m still camped in the living room downstairs. A few more workers have joined the first three, so there’s even more noise and chaos. More workers means more fights. So, I’ve been called a few times to settle disputes between the head carpenter and the head iron-bender. I always end these issues peacefully, using negotiation and conflict resolution skills I learned from watching Tom and Jerry. It kinda makes me feel wise 😀

The head carpenter is the Lagbaja wanna-be who is always singing. He’s a very funny, carefree person. He says he likes me and he’s going to marry me… he even told my mum when she was here. I’m thinking a safer bet would be for me to go to a lab, break into the AIDS cupboard and inject myself with the virus directly. This dude brings a different girl to his room almost every night!!!

On the other hand, the iron bender looks like he attended kindergarten with Methuselah. He keeps calling me his daughter and I don’t like it.

So apart from the entertainment I get from watching the workers fight, it has been a VERY slow week…

Hope yours is going much better.

What would Jesus (the business woman) do?

Good morning people!

Today, we’re talking about World Peace…

I have very unrealistic ideas about how we can obtain world peace. Not only are my ideas very unrealistic, they are a little on the foolish side. I know that now.

You see, I grew up watching things like Oprah, the Bold and The Beautiful, As The World Turns, Santa Barbara and later, All My Children. My parents never ever sat me down and said, “Ngo, when you grow up and your boobs get bigger, do not bang another woman’s husband”. No… I learnt my right and wrongs from these soaps and talk shows. Among many other things, they taught me that;

– In the future, whether or not my boobs get bigger, I should never bang another woman’s husband.

– I shouldn’t steal other people’s business ideas and sell them off as mine.

– If I fake my own death and then come back to life 15 years later, I should not be angry if the husband I left behind is now married to my sister.

– I shouldn’t use people to get what I want.

– There’s a possibility that Nne, my big sister, is really my mother ( ._.)


And it is these principles I’ve been following, or I have tried to follow, most of my life.

I’ve been through a lot in my time on earth as a human.  The only good thing about my experiences is that they have made me uncommonly sensitive towards the feelings of others. Yes, I also have the ability to not give a f#&k sometimes, but I can find ways around it. And that’s why it hurts me when people completely disregard the feelings of others, family, friends or even strangers, for their own selfish purposes.

Let’s discuss a scenario…

Imagine that Jesus was a woman and he was here on earth in this present day. She (Jesus) is a business woman and she’s got things she needs to sell. So she meets one Mr Dangote-Adenuga, the son of Mr and Mrs Dangote-Adenuga, (Mr and Mrs Dangote-Adenuga is what you get when Adenuga’s son marries Dangote’s daughter). Anyway, Jesus knows that this Mr Dangote-Adenuga has the means to change her life to the 4th generation… if she does business with him, she will be able to send her great-grandson’s best friend to Harvard.

Sadly, Mr Dangote-Adenuga is a bad man. That’s putting it mildly… he’s a disgusting, sex addicted horn-dog. He cannot transact business with a woman without banging her. His PA, his secretary, his personal trainer, his cook; he has banged them all. If there’s a woman around him, be sure that he has banged her.

So this female Jesus knows he is a dog. In fact, Mr Dangote-Adenuga has made it very clear that if she is serious about doing business with him, she has to bang him first.

So, what would Jesus do?

I know for a fact that Jesus would simply walk away and find business elsewhere. Jesus would know that even if she stands her ground and refuses to bang Mr Dangote-Adenuga, for the sake of business, something will have to give eventually. Even if there’s no actual sex, there will be some ass-grabbing or tit-squeezing or body-pressing for sure. How then would she be able to look Mrs Dangote-Adenuga in the eye during the annual Christmas party?

In my ideal world, there is no selfishness and people consider other people’s feelings. You don’t need to step on anyone’s toes to get to the top. People stand in lines (preferably straight lines) and wait patiently for their turn. You don’t use other people to get what you want, then discard them when you’re done. There’s no backstabbing, no lying, no cheating. My ideal world is like where the Teletubbies live, but with lots of alcohol, free porn and cable Tv.

But these days, people don’t care. If you think like this, about an ideal world, it means you are not “sharp” or “street smart” or “business savy”… in other words, it means hunger never wire you.

I have nothing against being a “sharp guy”. I just don’t like it when it involves hurting someone else’s feelings. If Mr Dangote-Adenuga was single or widowed, then maybe yes… but he isn’t. And for the sake of world peace, the feelings of Mrs Dangote-Adenuga  and their seven kids have to be put into consideration.  If growing up, you were one of the seven children or if your mum was a “Mrs Dangote-Adenuga”, you should be especially sensitive.

I won’t even bother telling you what brought up this rant… but brethren, am I making sense at all?



Good morning people…

Has your friend ever called you up late at night crying? She’s crying and you keep asking what the problem is but she can’t speak through her tears… A million things race through your mind. You’re hoping that it’s her boyfriend and he just dumped her, because that’s the kind of news you can handle. Getting dumped is bad enough for her to weep so bitterly, but it’s not so bad that she can’t get over it in a few months.

But she’s crying too hard, so you know it’s not her boyfriend. Then she finally manages to tell you that her mum just died in a house fire…

That was my weekend people.

My friend is mourning. She’s miles away and I’m feeling very helpless because there is nothing I can do from here. Her mum wasn’t sick, she wasn’t travelling, she was just at home and there was a fire and she died.

I’m calling my friend almost every hour. Most of the time, she doesn’t answer the phone. Secretly, I’m glad that she doesn’t answer… cos I have no idea what to say to her. I keep saying “I’m so sorry” over and over again. I dare not give her the “Jesus talk”. I have nothing against the “Jesus talk”; telling her how God knows best, and God is her strength, and how her mum is in a better place, but I’m sure there are more than enough people around them now giving them the talk.

It’s always easy to give the “God knows best” speech…  Most Nigerians have perfected it and it’s almost an automatic response to anything that happens. You can catch your husband in bed with your daughter’s best friend and people would advise you to “seek the face of God in prayer”. But until God answers, shouldn’t you bitch-slap the little tart so hard that she becomes deaf (in both ears)? So, I’m wondering, till God heals my friend, what can she do to survive each passing day?

Maybe I’m the one who is not mature enough spiritually… Yes, we trust God and we know He knows best. We even accept that He has a reason for everything. Still, with all the shit we go through, sometimes it would be nice to be able to ask Him “Why” and get a response, just so we know…

I’m just tired.

Rest in Perfect Peace Mrs Jaiyeola…

Still not toasting… but here’s part II.

Mornin’ people!!!

Ok… so after my last post, some of my guy friends almost shot me. They came to the defence of their fellow man and now a few of them think I’m an evil witch who should be burned at the stakes. So I decided to tell you the other part of the story so that you’ll see that I’m right and he’s wrong!

And here we go…

I admit that with the “Do you still want me to toast you?” question and disclaimer in mind, the fire had cooled significantly on my part. Still, we continued to talk normally over the next few days. But that was the week my baby bro was coming into town… I had so much running around to do, and I was always so busy. He even complained a bit about not being able to see me again anytime soon, since my brother was going to be taking up all my time for the next couple of weeks. I couldn’t give a definite answer then so I told him we would “see how things go”.

The night before my brother came in, dude called three times and I missed his calls. I guess maybe I shoulda called back, or sent a text like I usually do (apologising for having missed his calls), but I didn’t. I didn’t because the devil told me not to… ( ._.)

People, you won’t believe that it was the last time I heard from the dude till almost three weeks later.

I’m sure some girls here have had a guy go AWOL on them before. It could be a guy you’re just getting to know or even a guy you’re dating and suddenly, he just stops; no more calls, no more texts, no mails, nothing. Initially you’re pissed but then you start to get a little worried. What if he’s sick? Or what if there’s a problem in his family? What if his liver and one of his lungs are stuck to the front tyre of a BRT bus? So you pick up the phone, make the call and ask, “Are you ok? How come I haven’t heard from you?”

Then he replies and says, “Nothing”. No reason, no explanation, no apology… just nothing. When that happens to you a few times, and you know how hurtful it is, the next time a guy stops calling, you tell yourself that if they pull him out from under the BRT bus alive, and he regains full use of his fingers, he can dial your number. Till then, you’re not putting yourself in a position to hear, “Nothing” again.

But after three weeks, I kinda start to get worried, so I sent him a text. It was a very short, simple text… in the text, I asked when he would be done with the books I lent him (did you really think I was going to ask if he was ok and find out the location of his liver and right lung? *rme*). He didn’t reply the text, so the next day I finally called.

Brethren, I used to think that “Nothing” was the worst I could hear after three weeks of silence. Well, “Nothing” would have been better than the “Who is this?” he asked me.

Laughter tore my belle… I was laughing so hard at myself. I told him who it was and he said his phone got missing stolen eaten lost two days after our last conversation, so he no longer had my number. Then he asked why I hadn’t called since, if nothing else to find out if he was ok. I was in so much shock all I could reply was “nothing”.

The next day, he calls me up and says he wants to stop by and see me. I’m not having that so I tell him that I’m out and I won’t be home till much later. He says he’ll come over whenever I get back. Later, he calls and this time, I’m really not home. I’m on the next street buying suya for me and my cats. I don’t tell him that though… I make it sound like I’m out somewhere with friends. Thank God for the suya malaam’s radio that provided background music.

Dude gets annoyed and accuses me of avoiding him. I’m this close to saying, “Doh!”

Then he starts again with the “Why didn’t you call me?” interrogation. He more or less demands that I tender an apology. I almost told him that I will apologize when God installs air-conditioning in hell. Instead, I said that, out of respect for him and our mutual friend, I would rather not get into a confrontation, but that I don’t appreciate him putting all the blame on me.

He concludes by declaring that he can’t deal with my “drama”. Then he adds, “I’ve tried and tried but obviously, you are not interested in what I’m about. I’m not in the habit of chasing shadows or wasting my time. I like to call it as I see it so it’s best if we continue this thing on a strictly friendship level and forget about anything else”.

And that’s how it ended folks.

Please answer the short questionnaire at the bottom of the page. Thank you.

  1. Who do you think is right?

a)      Her Royal Crankiness

b)      Dude

c)       The 72 cats


  1. Who do you think should be president?

a)      Her Royal Crankiness

b)      Ngozi

c)       Ngo