Good morning people…
I refused to say anything about Goldie’s death because I knew that my friends would see through the BS. While she was alive, during the BBA show, I was an unrepentant Goldie-basher. In the three months that she was there, the only positive thing I said about her was that the wall paper in her room was a nice colour.
I didn’t even know who she was before she entered the house. Of all people, it was my MUM who told me about Goldie. I was irritated by everything from her propellers false lashes to the way she chewed food. Then she fell in love, and watching her and Prezzo made me want to slit my wrists AND overdose on Vitamin C. However, by the time she was on her way out of the house, my respect for her had grown immensely. I’ll tell you why…
You see, I’ve loved that kind of love where you’re so obsessed with the person that you forget your middle name. When he’s happy, you are happy and everything is right with the world. But when he’s mad or sad you feel like your life is over. I compared her in-love Goldie to my in-love Ngozi and I realized that ‘in-love Ngozi’ probably wouldn’t have had the kind of self-respect and discipline she displayed. She remembered her middle name and made sure their love started and ended in the kitchen. I think most of the women who hated her did so because they recognized a bit of themselves in her.
Anyway, she left the house and although I was far from being a fan, I had some respect and the public dissing stopped.
I just wanted to say that before sharing with you something that happened yesterday…
Yesterday evening, I was in my room upstairs and through the window, I was eavesdropping overheard two women in the neighbouring compound having a discussion. I could see them sitting outside their building on tiny stools, those small stools that are perfect for gossiping, and they were talking about Goldie. They talked about her time in the BBA house, her marriage to some other dude, her music and career. The woman doing most of the talking (let’s call her Ode I) apparently got all her info from her husband. The other one, Ode II (or the Real Ode) was soaking up all this info and making the necessary dramatic “Ehen?”, “Youdonminit!” “Haba!” responses.
Now I understand that no one really knows the facts and details about Goldie’s story. And we may never know. But their version was so distorted that I was expecting to hear about a love-child that was conceived in the BBA house, born in an undisclosed location in Lagos and sent to Kenya to be raised by Timon and Pumbaa.
Some parts were hilarious, some parts were disrespectful of the dead, but the part that made me want to tear my mosquito net was when the following ensued:
Ode I: My husband even tell me say im see where dem talk say Goldie dey hide skeleton for im cupboard!
Ode II aka The Real Ode: Talk true! You see dis people?! Abeg tell me why pesin go keep skeleton for inside cupboard? Wetin she wan take am do?
Ode I: All dis celebrity, you think say their success na by ordinary hand? Most of them, juju go dey involve na!
My jaw is still by the window where it dropped.
I’ll end by simply saying Rest in peace Goldie…
Let’s have a wonderful week people 😀