To hell with 2014!!

Hello beautiful people!!…

I got home hours ago cos today was half day at work, so I’m working on my church assignment. Last week, my pastor asked us all to write our meal tickets for 2015. The meal ticket is supposed to be a list of all the things we would like God to do for us in the New Year. We’re also to include all the things that we plan to do for God.

I’ve told you guys before that I’m the kind of person who never knows what to say when someone asks me what I want. Last year, I didn’t write my list until I got to church for cross over service. I had to quickly tear out a sheet of paper from my tiny jotter and I wrote four things that I wanted God to do for me. And just to show you how unserious I was, I wrote down four very general things on my list.

Other people brought lists as long as my arm, in sheets of paper they had rolled up like ponmo. Some others wrote their meal tickets in notebooks with detailed requests like;

I want a dark-complexioned, 6ft tall man with beer beer, who works as a Safety Engineer in the HSE Dept. of Total, Lekki, Lagos.

So by the time we were blessing and anointing our lists, I was feeling very stupid holding up that tiny sheet of paper while other people were holding up A3 sheets of paper. Looking at my sheet now, I can see those transparent patches where the anointing oil touched the paper. It looks like something they sold buns or akara in. I’m thinking of just recycling this list and taking it to church tonight because I didn’t cross out a damn thing.

Does it mean that God didn’t do anything for me in 2014?? I can’t say that! Maybe it’s my fault for not being too expectant going into 2014.

I’m grateful for my siblings. I can’t say this enough. I thank God for the three of them. I’m also grateful to God for my health. I am literally the healthiest person I know… I brag about that all the time. Apart from one stomach infection last month and back pain in recent weeks, I’ve been doing great! That’s not something that a lot of people can say.

I am not going to talk about work or money. 2014 was rough career wise and money wise and I can only pray it gets better.

Romantically, 2014 was hard… I didn’t meet anyone new, but I learned a painful, but valuable lesson. It was a hard lesson but now I’m looking forward to meeting a new guy and being in a solid, meaningful relationship. I learnt that it’s ok to want something and go after what you want. Even better, it’s ok to make your demands known cos these modern day guys are smart… they know that they can get away with not being committed. So, as a girl, it’s easy to find yourself in an invisible relationship where you are doing girlfriendish things with a guy who may or may not be doing boyfriendish things with you. The arrangement is nice, but there is no commitment so that he is not tied down.

You want more, but you don’t want to scare him away with the “What are we?” question, so you stay quiet till you reach frustration point. Well, 2014 taught me that I can turn my back and walk away from that kind of messy situation. The next guy I meet, I’m gonna ask straight up, “Niggah what the fuck do you want from me?!”

If he can’t answer, I’m pointing to the door or the window… whichever he chooses to fuck out of my life from. It gets lonely sometimes, but that’s fine.

Also, I’m proud to announce that I’ve been celibate since the middle of February!!! YAAAY!!!

*waits for wild applause* *waves to crowd*

Yes, people… I’ve been a good girl since then 😀

I’ll admit that there have been periods when congy from the pit of hell gripped my soul and I started to see stars, but those times eventually passed and I got over it. Thank God for my job. Sometimes, I find it’s easier to just throw myself into my work and that helps. My poor MD will be applauding my results, talking about hard work and dedication. The poor guy doesn’t know that it’s congy power…

It’s really no big deal though. The longest I’ve done is two years and two months so you see this? Eees nuffin’!

Still on the romance page, I’ve decided that I won’t be friends with any of my exes anymore. I’m sorry, but y’all take up way too much time and energy. I get it; you wanna be able to tell people that you’re cool with all your exes, they are all your paddys, and that y’all are close, blah blah blah… good for you, but that’s not why we are here. There are no hard feelings… or maybe there are. I don’t know. But surely you understand that I don’t give a rat’s ass about your new girlfriend’s mother’s illness. Biko miss me with that BS. Besides, I’m starting to feel like my singlehood gives you some sort of pleasure. Why else do you ask for updates every damned time???

In 2014, I got closer to God *winks at God* *blows God a kiss*

I said I was gonna commit to a particular department in church and that’s exactly what I did. I started participating in church activities and I’m still getting to know people. So far, my biggest church lesson has been that God does not randomly strike people down with lightening. He’s not angry like that… if on a Sunday, you don’t have an offering, God will not strike you dead.

Oh, and you guys have noooo idea about what goes on behind the scenes… or maybe you do. After these few months I’ve spent behind the scenes, I now see every church service like a stage play/drama. You buy a ticket and go see a play… the play moves you- you laugh, you cry, you ponder over it- but you can’t imagine the amount of fighting, arguing, cursing, back-biting and near-physical blows that go into putting the show together. In the end, you have a cast (church workers) who worked hard to put the show together, but then end up hating each other’s guts.

Me, I’m trying to relish this stage I’m in where I still get along with everyone… I still love everybody and everybody loves me. I am afraid of getting to that hate stage, but my friends keep warning me that church people are humans and they are far from perfect so there’s bound to be conflict.

One of the hardest parts is un-looking when you see two people together who are famously shagging. You can’t point at them and say, “Hey! I know what you two use your anointing oil for!” because it’s not in your place to judge. Instead you act like you don’t know.

I think that’s it for me… 2014 is a year I’m desperate to get rid of. I can’t even think of a high-point, but my mind is filled with too many lows. However, I’m looking forward to 2015. I’m going to write everything I want on my meal ticket and I’ll try not to limit God with my mind. I was going to share some of my plans for 2015 with you guys, but this post is already an epistle. I hope you guys can stay awake long enough to get to the end…

Finally, I want to thank you guys for visiting regularly. I used to be so obsessed with my statistics page cos I didn’t know if people even read the shit I put out here. I had to stop obsessing over it and just write… I’ve gotten some mails and messages from readers that encouraged me. So I need to mention that I am grateful to you guys who read, even when I don’t have anything to say. Thank you!!

I have to go now. I need to work on this meal ticket… don’t forget to wish HRC a happy blog birthday.

Happy New Year guys!! To hell with 2014.

Boo boo’s birthday!!!

Hello beautiful people!!…

Hope you guys enjoyed the Christmas break. It’s been a looong ass weekend and I never thought I would be the one to say that I cannot wait to get back to work. Or maybe not necessarily work work… maybe just the office. Anything to get out of the house. I went to church this morning and everyone kept asking where I’ve been, from the pastor to my group leader to the security men. I miss just one Sunday service and Christmas morning service and it’s like I was the one who turned Mary and Joe back at the inn…

Meanwhile, today is my baby brother’s birthday!!! Yaaaaaaaaay!!!

You know how, in every family, there’s an underdog? He’s the one who starts out like he won’t have much to offer, so no one really focuses on him. It’s worse when he’s the last born cos it’s easy to just assume that he’ll grow up spoiled…

Well, that’s the story of my baby brother. It’s not like we thought he was useless. Far from it. It’s just that he didn’t do anything new that my parents hadn’t already seen in the ones before him. The only different thing was that he was the last child and last born kids never really outgrow their cuteness. He was cute forever, and the rest of us kids shamelessly relied heavily on his cuteness. We used it to get whatever we wanted from our parents.

“Enyi, go and tell mummy that you want to drink mineral…”

“Enyi, go and tell daddy that you want biscuit…”

“Enyi, go and tell daddy that you were the one who squandered Ngozi’s inheritance on Coldstone Ice-cream…”

It always worked like a charm.

Anyway, eventually, the baby grew up and it was time to go to school. I don’t know whose bright idea it was to send him to a military secondary school, but that’s where he went. He went in a child and came out so independent. By the time he graduated from university (with a first class), he was a grown ass man. It was as though we blinked and he grew up just like *snaps fingers* that!

Now, he’s like the shining star of our house and everything he touches turns to gold!!

I can’t describe how very proud I am of him. He takes good care of me and always always has a word of wisdom… When I’m having issues at work, especially with a co-worker, he always knows the emotionally intelligent thing to do. Once in a while, when I come up with one of my hare brained business ideas, he’s there to squish it before I give it life and go bankrupt. There’s absolutely nothing I can’t talk to him about.

He’s funny and he’s one of those annoying people who always see the bright side of everything. And I love how he lives life to the fullest… doing white people shit like mountain climbing and sky diving.

Enyi, I wish you the very best and I pray that God will continue to bless you. You are the bestest baby brother in the whole. wide. world!!! Thank you for always always being there… I love you loads.


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Dance Etiquette…

Good morning beautiful people!!!

I’m at work and I miss home. I had such a wonderful weekend… I didn’t want it to end. I stayed home from Friday evening when I got back from work, till Monday morning. I didn’t even go to church yesterday. The only time I left the house was Saturday evening and that was to buy a truck load of paw-paw and oranges just down my street.

No trips to the market, no cooking, no church work… just some laundry, a bit of housework and lots of sleeping and Tv watching. It was some much needed me-time. Now I’m looking forward to the long weekend coming up 😀

We’re having our office end of year/Christmas party tomorrow and I’m a bit worried. Everyone else is excited but I’m not… First of all, it’s an ‘all-white’ party. We’re supposed to be dressed in white and I don’t have anything to wear. Not one single white outfit is in my wardrobe. I have black and white, red and white, yellow and white, but nothing that’s all white. And Lord knows that I can’t afford to get a new outfit… not right now.

The second issue is, I don’t really wanna party. I’ve been avoiding parties for a while now and I’ll tell you why. Earlier in the year, I read Steve Harvey’s “Act Like A Lady, Think Like A Man”. In one of the chapters, he wrote about the kind of woman that men want and it completely changed my life. He was talking about the difference between a “Throwback” and a “Keeper” and he said;

“…a woman who drops it like it’s hot and puts on a dance floor performance that would make video vixen Karrine Steffans blush is a throwback.”

I’m not a bad girl. I talk rough and crack the most obscene jokes, but I am really not a bad person. I (used to love) going to parties, letting loose and allowing myself have a good time. I will usually take as many bottles of Smirnoff or Snapp or whatever mild poison is available that I need to let myself go. I’ve never gotten drunk… tipsy, yes, but never to the point where I can’t walk a straight line.

And one thing a lot of people don’t know about me is I love to dance. Not only that I love to dance, I’m a pretty good dancer (even if I do say so myself). Initially, when the party is just getting started, I stay safe doing the running man and the electric slide. Then the alcohol starts to kick in and Jason Derulo comes on and asks me if I know what to do with my big fat butt? You’re damn right I’m gonna wiggle wiggle wiggle…

The pimp walks into the crib and you expect me to drop it gently like it’s luke-warm? Hell nah! I will drop it like it’s on fire baby… that’s the only way to drop it. ‘Twas it not for the sole purpose of twerking that God blessed me with those special lower back twerking muscles?? I realize that not every girl has ‘em. ‘Tis a blessing.

So can you see my problem? According to the book, I’m not the kind of girl you take home to mama. But in reality, I’m just a fun-loving girl who wants to party without being judged. I want to twerk without coming into work the next day and having guys give me suggestive looks. I want to dutty wine and side-split without girls calling me a slut behind my back. Otherwise, what’s the point of going to a party and sitting quietly a few tables from my MD and sipping on Ribena for 3 to 4 hours?


Here’s an example; Some time ago, I got kinda close to this guy. It wasn’t anything special but there was some potential there. We could talk about almost everything. He used to say that I was fun to be with and how much he enjoyed my company. I probably wouldn’t have gotten ideas if he didn’t used to say shit like that…

Months later, he ended up with some other girl- quiet, sweet, Christian girl who cracked only righteous Christian jokes. A friend asked him about me and his response was, “Abeg o… I can’t handle Ngozi”.

We all laughed about it but it touched me. It was a lesson… an eye-opener. I’m not sure what to do about it though. It’s probably too late for me to change who I am. I mean, I can’t walk around town pretending like I don’t know how to twerk and I don’t watch porn. That would take too much energy… but more and more, it is helping me make up my mind about the kind of man I would like to end up with.

Meanwhile, I’ve been trying to work on my end of year blog post. I would like to share a few things I’ve learned this year. Last year, I started late and abandoned it half-way so New Year’s came and went without me saying anything. I don’t want that to happen again this year… especially since my blog will be two years old on the 31st!!! 😀 I’m really excited about that.

Oh yeah… one last thing, you guys should help me thank God for two of my colleagues who were both attacked by armed robbers, one last week Tuesday and the other over the weekend. The Tuesday guy was stabbed in his arm but he’s doing well. The other guy was shot at close range but for some reason, the gun didn’t fire. He’s in the office now and everybody is making him tell the story over and over again… poor guy.

Have a beautiful week guys. I gotta run. I’ll let you know how the party goes…


I need a car…

My country people!!

It’s only Wednesday and I’m exhausted… About two weeks ago, I made up my mind to be more independent in my transportation life. By independent, I mean going to work and coming back on my own. Before then, every day was an adventure. Usually, I find my way in the morning… that is not a problem as long as I leave the house early enough. It was returning home from work that was the issue.

It was in July/August, in the middle of the Ebola wahala that all this started. You guys remember that at the time, we didn’t really have all the details of the disease. It was easier to sensationalize it than to just Google the facts… all we knew then was that;

i) The Ebola virus was manufactured in a lab in Ferguson, Missouri.

ii) The virus had well developed limbs and it could walk/jump/fly from one person to another, penetrate the skin and cause your internal organs to shrink.

Naturally, like everyone else, I was afraid. As fucked up as my life is, I didn’t wanna die. And I figured that the fastest way to catch Ebola was by being pressed together like sardines with sweaty strangers in a danfo bus. So I reduced public transportation, and after a while, I stopped taking buses altogether.

This fear of Ebola made me an expert on the lives of my colleagues who stay in my area. I knew what days they had mid-week service, I knew when they had to leave early to pick up kids and I knew when there was a turning up and he/she would not be heading straight home… ‘turn up’ is usually on Fridays.

I also knew the unspoken rules and regulations of each car…

There was the sleeping rule; One car had a paid driver and that car was sweet because I could sleep the entire journey without feeling bad. I and Madame would lounge in the back seat and she didn’t mind as long as I didn’t snore or drool on her car seat while I slept. Then there was my friend’s car… that’s the cool car. It was my favourite car because we would gist and laugh from the minute we leave till when I get off. However, in that car, no matter how tired I am, I dare not sleep.

There was also the eating rule; In one car, you could eat whatever you want… I’m talking eba, fufu, ewedu, amala… whatever! It didn’t matter. In another car, the eating rules were stricter. It was there I discovered that I had a secret power/hidden talent. Did you guys know that I can chew kpekere silently? Well, neither did I until one fateful day in September. I was in a car on my way back home. The car was dead silent. My colleague’s husband was driving and no one was saying anything. Me, I was in the back seat cold and hungry… I hadn’t eaten anything the whole day.

We got to Ikoyi and met some traffic. I signaled to one of the Kpekere boys and a couple of them rushed to the car as I wound the window down. The entire time, I was feeling very self-conscious. I didn’t know whether or not to offer them some. Were they too cream for kpekere? Or did they like their plantain self-fried? I didn’t know.

I bought two packets and just stared at them in my laps… you guys know how noisy the kpekere wrappers sound right? So you can imagine how much louder the sound was in a quiet car; it sounded like Christmas bangers. But I had no choice because I was starving. It wasn’t until after I opened it that I realized that the least of my problems was the noise the wrapper would make. I managed to open it, yes, but how was I going to chew the kpekere without sounding like a stone crusher in a quarry?

Brethren, I can’t explain how I did it, but I ate one whole packet of kpekere without making a sound!

*waits for applause to die down*

Afterwards, just before I got my stop, my colleague asked, “Ngor, you didn’t buy your Chipsy again?”

I told her I bought some, and even ate one. Till now, she marvels at how I was able to eat it without making a sound. I think she even respects me more.

*waits for second round of applause to die down*

Anyway, that’s how I discovered my superpower (silent kpekere chewing) and that’s how I got spoilt. Suddenly, I was too good for public transportation. I would sit in my front seat, with my seat belt, and look upon other poor passengers in Danfo buses, feeling sorry for them as they were packed like sardines in those tiny buses.

Fast forward some months later and one evening, I realized that I had become an unabashed car chaser and colleague harasser (When will you be ready to leave? What time is your husband coming? Must you pick up your child from daycare? When I was two I could find my way home from daycare… and so on and so forth) On so many days, I would be stuck in the office because I can’t go home till someone else is ready to go home. And it’s not like it’s a productive kind of waiting. The internet has been terrible recently so it’s not as if I can download good quality porn while I’m waiting. In the end, by the time I get back home, I am exhausted from sitting around and waiting.

So, I made up my mind to grow up. Ebola has gone and there’s nothing to be afraid of except some body odour, sweat and a lot of shouting/arguing between bus conductors and passengers. So, far, it’s been a living nightmare. Nothing will make you hate life more than being squished between two ugly ass men/toads who sit with their legs wide open and tell you to “ask your oga make im buy moto for you na, if e dey pain you.”

Happy new month people… maybe tomorrow I’ll gist you about how I got married last week 😀