Tuesday, May 26, 2009
she thinks you are after something
Frown at her,
she says you are rude
Have her alone,
she thinks no one can have you
she says you are a playboy
Take her gift,
she says you are a gold digger
she says you are proud
Talk of love,
she says you are after something
Talk off romance,
she says you are a sineer
Be calm about it,
she says you are a slaker
Hold her on first date,
she says youy are too forward
Take some time,
she says you are too weak
Makwe love always,
she says that is the only thing you want
Dont do it always,
she says you aren't man enough
Buy her gifts pr pay for her services,
she says you call her a prostitute
Dont give her ,
she says you dont care
Try tio correct,
she thinks you want a permanent relationshi[p
Dont correct her,
she's too loose
So,....what do women reaaally want?
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Open toilets spreading its putrifying stench, blocked drainage pipes, gutter-cum-waste disposal units, bubbling spyrogira-filled puddles from open drainages, filled and over-flowing bins and waste disposal units, obese street rats who neither fear man nor foe but stand boldy before you staring you in the eye even as you approach them, naked wires, pools of corrosive urine in the street corners and beside long time packed up vehicles especially in motor parks slowly corroding the tires. Infected sores, mosquito infestations and infections, poor ventilation, etc..all in the same neighborhood. How could this be? No wonder the houses are cheap and they say we live in the slums. Whose fault is this/what the government doing?
If you have ever dropped a sweet wrapper on the street;
If you have ever stopped to wee in the gutter, on the street, by a wall, on the tire of a parked vehicle;
If you have ever refused to dispose of your waste properly;
If you have never taken part in environmental sanitation;
If you have ever thrown something in a gutter;
If your restaurant/bucker/kiosk/shed/telephone boot is by an open gutter;
Then the fault is yours- not the government or God. For every sweet/ biscuit wrapper, puere water pack, empty bottle, polythene, scratched recharge cards, gala meat packs, orange and banana peel etc, in the street is an invitation to someone else to add to the pile.
Start immediately by putting the sweet wrapper in your pockets or held back in your grip to be thrown in at the next proper waste disposal that comes your way. Who says naija can not be as clean and good as the cities we see in the tube. . . ?!
Monday, October 6, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Even though you are @ the lowest strata, you can still afford low cost foods from the varieties of 'Mama Put'and 'Iya Basira';
Even though the streets are dirty & we curse, spit, breath less & hold our noses each time we pass the dump, it makes it easy for us to guitlessly fling ours on the way to work, afterall...ur quota wont make a difference to the heap!
Even though the touts and 'agbero's' could be wild in thier elements, they can put the town on stand-still once you pally wit them and they take a liking for you;
Even though underneathe is a gutter bubbling with algae and spirogyra, the petty trader still deems it a perfect spot for her tray of wares.
Even though there's a greenish-brown, tummy-wrenching puddle between you and the woman hailing fresh/tinned tomatoes and fish at obviously cheaper rates, you find a way around it to maximize this-once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity;
Even though you dare not buy/drink pure water at your VI/ Ikoyi or Lekki office, you go all out to gwt a combination of pure water and gala or 'kpof-kpof' at the bus parl and get down to business in the bus;
Even though you wonder how people can sit and eat freely at the road sides during the day having an umbrella and a weather beaten lace curtain wound around it for covering, you steal out in the covering of the night and partake of the communion;
Even though everything seems stale, TY Bello says it's green;
. . . Lagos. . .even though even though, it is still a wonderful place
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Just two days ago at 'bout 5.06am, i was all set to leave for work. With the recent 3rd Mainland Bridge closure saga...all mainland legs are on deck earlier than usual. As i was about opening the locks, he told me same thing i had started getting used to hearing every morning;
"You should have prayed when i told you to and you said later, now you're all set for work and wana rush it. He's begining to hate your menu y'know"?
I stood still, keys dangling and guilt smeared all over the red wall of my heart. After rushing outta the gate each morning, i keep promising Him not to do it next time without having a deserving tit-tat with Him and the next morning...i dont. I just serve Him my 2-minutes noodle instead of Spaghetti Bolognesse.
Looking at Dimitrian with the forlorn eyes of a sad puppy, i gave him the noodles(spoke in tongues for some seconds) and rushed out. "Some kid...", he said.
Walking down Kayode street, Lagos was already agog with its usual hassle, noise and confusion. Surely, even God set a daily deadline to listen and answer the prayers of Lagosians cos the background was a mixture of sounds- the wailing Imams from mosques, the early morning wails of the agbo jedi-jedi seller, the cursing danfo drivers at their fellow head-strong colleagues, the bellowing town-crier calls of the lagos danfo-conductor and deafening horn blasts- would give Him a hard time! Approaching Ikorodu express road- lucky to have successfully dodged a fast approaching aboki okada with no lights on- i could make out "wole Akpogbon CMS, hundred naira bus! Leventis, Akpogbon CMS..."! Sieving the background noise, i trailed the repeated words and got into the bus. Minutes into the bumpy ride between Onipan and Fadeyi bus-stops, the need to settle into my seat properly arose;
"Madam please adjust your bag on the chair".
"Madam please i'm not seating properly, please move the bag...", i repeated.
When it became obvious madam wasn't going to move the bag, i leaned forward and began 'moving the bag'...
"Ti'm ba fun e n'ifoti, wa a mo boya m'0ogbe baagi l'ori seati"! she spat.
Confused and persistent, i kept tugging at the 'bag' before i realised it wasn't a 'bag'! The woman who couldn't even do a 45 degrees turn to face me began to release bottled up torrents from her yesterday. The only thing i made out in her out-pour was i was 'rubbing her butt'...ewww! Her butt and hips were so fat she didn't feel the slim lady beside her sitting on it till she attempted to turn. Her lad-ladden butt was pouring out of her seat.
Absent mindedly, i gasped, "Is that your bottom?Jeeezuss!"
The laughter from that scene lasted till Ajah Park bus-stop as i shot out of the bus for security purposes...
Now Carl, those weren't curves; those were mounds of thick lad running off her seat on to my knees.
The fat is enviable when it forms a well curved silhouette and well crested cleavge( as i use to my advantage at work) and not when you've got love handles lined down your sides, a tummy fighting with your belt line and stopping you from looking down at your feet and a bum with nauseating dimpled adipose tissues divided by a G- string underneath a lycra pair of pants...yuuuchk...
Since my second year in uni, i have lived a life of weight consciousness. While consentrating on losing some love handles, the arms take it up; while pedalling at the thighs the tummy begins to bulge!After some time i almost gave up, "Will i kill myself?! Whoever i end up with will like and love me for who i am!" Of course talk is cheap and self deceit is temporarily soothing but the truth remains and aint pretty in the mirror.
Today's chic is so conscious of her BMI her life sucks.While eating M&K's, she throes away the coloured ones sticking to the brown ones, she orders for tasteless soda water outside,in parties and celebrations she excludes the koko of the party(excess meat,drinks and cakes). Slowly, life has become frustrating for us cos as much as we skip the delicacies and repent on our snackings, we still dont fit into them clothes...'life aint fair sometimes' we say