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Category Archives: moments

TAN U (thank you), you’re far too kind!


And the award for the most versatile blog goes to” *drum rolls*…..

CHRONICLES OF THE NAIVE!

“emm, psst, babe na u dem dey call”.   *rouses from sleep* “oh yeah? you sure? Oh yeah na me ooo!”

“abeg, all of una shift make i fin road pass, oops sorry” *clears throat* “ahem, i mean excuse me i want to make my way to the stage thank you”

” i wanna thank my mummy and my daddy Mr and Mrs…, my grandma, uncles, aunties, cousins, tobi ogunbadejo (you’ve been a good critic 😉 christopher , tobbie, abiola, bleble, lola, idris (Ʊ knw ursefs) i wanna thank my pry 5 English teacher, Mr joe for trying all you can  to help me differenciate between tenses, verbs, pronouns, phrases, clauses (still make small mistakes but i try), i want to thank mr olisa….. my manager, make up artist, personal dj, chauffeur…. (whew, everyone in the hall don sleep sha) any how TAN U, TAN U!”

ok ok, for reals now. this is the first time I’m receiving an award for my blog and i feel so honoured ‘cos it is coming from someone i admire a lot, Neetah (memoirs of a woman with chutzpah, http://chocolatechutzpah.wordpress.com/) . It’s been a while i checked her blog trust me and im saying this with my checks turning rose red+scarlet red, i am addicted to her blog *coversface* The first time she commented on my blog i was surprised, and i did small windeck.

They say with more recognition comes  more responsibilities. yup i concur, ‘cos this award comes with its own. i got to pay for it in black and white, but i ain’t complaining, woe unto me if i complain. so here are my instructions;

1.Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them in your post.
2.Share 7 things about yourself.
3.Pass this Award along to 15 recently discovered blogs and let them know about it!

so without further ado, I’ll go straight to business.

I want to thank miss neetah (soon to be Mrs. *bigsmile*) for this wonderful award, recorgnistion and encouragement. more grease to your elbow and each morning you step out into the hussle and buzzle(is dat a word) of lasgidi, chin up always ‘cos you’re out to hit it with a storm. keep the good stuff flowing! p.s do visit her blog, see link above.

so this is the part that always makes me go blank for a few seconds, especially when asked in an interview or by a cute bloke on our first meeting (too busy admiring his cuteness 😉 7 things about me in no particular order;

1. I am an addict. yup i am addicted to Kellogg’s cocopops. every other cereal just tast bland. i tried rice krispies once but i ended up adding milo in each bowl. yes i am a choco addict. chocolates are ladies best friends

2. my fingers have acquired immunity against peppery sensations from ‘atarodo’ (small red pepper and chili pepper). yes i dont feel the sensation till i am reminded of it potency when i rub my eyes or wash my bum.

3. once had a dream of becoming a ballerina, but that was cut short in j.s.s 1 when our ballet instructor told us we had to pay 1k for registration and rehearsal wears. kicked the idea fast out of my mind before my mum did.

4. i could easily have played the role of the flexible guy in ‘fantastic four’ without any film trick. would have cost the director less ‘cos i’m a nice gal, would have charged $50 000. ok my point is im quite flexible. most people dont believe me ‘cos i am nicely padded until i do the split and bend over backwards until my hands touch the ground with no support.

5. if i wasn’t in the health sector, i probably would be an electrical engineer. As a child, i loved to open up electronics, pull them apart then arrange them like a puzzle. when things need fixing or setting up around the house, call me the-go-to-gal

6. i hate trying one things or giving the shop owners/attendants the idea that i am gonna buy something when I’m window shopping. i prefer to browse through the store, get the prices and move out. i feel its unfair to stress them and give them false hope. i sell too so i know how that feels.

7. I AM A WEEPER! i cry at the slightest emotional scene in movies, or song lyrics. in secondary school i got teased a lot by my classmate ‘cos the sight of a cane was enough to set the tap flowing.

Now to the hardest part of my instructions. to pass the award to 15 blogs. ill try my best *

1. Jenim Dibie http://scarcast.blog.com/

2.Krunchgrizzly http://krunchgrizzly.blogspot.com/

3. Le Dynamique Proffeseur: http://dynamiqueprofesseur.blogspot.com/

4.  http://thatsolagurl.wordpress.com/

5. http://thinktankt.wordpress.com/

6. http://slevincalevra.wordpress.com/

7. http://highlandblue.wordpress.com/

8. http://slimsiren.wordpress.com/

9. http://chroniclesofdania.wordpress.com/

10. http://www.thenakedconvo.com

11. http://papyrusczar.wordpress.com/

okay i don’t know any more blogs to put up 😦  i wish i had more. but these blog are wonderful.

Granpa


*sigh*

woke up this morning to see a message sent by my cousin T “Our Grandpa don die eeee oooo, Died dis morning @ 1 am”

instantly all drowsiness was drained, in its place a wave of heat. hormones both known and unknown took over my emotions, i couldn’t believe it, i spoke with him last week! He was fine, in perfect condition! asked my cousin if he had a heart attack but she said he was perfectly alright until around 12 am when he had a brief illness then died peacefully at 1 am.

Everyone around me says i should be grateful, celebrate his life ‘cos he went at the ripe age of about 85, yea i know i should and i am grateful to God for the life he lived but still, that does not prevent the shock, sadness and… i don’t know. My maternal grandpa died while i was a toddler so i never knew him, my paternal grandma died some years ago in London, met her only twice so i was never close to her.

But my paternal grandpa, spent the first 9 years of my life growing up around him. he lived upstairs the family house while my nuclear family stayed down stairs. I Remember him telling me to stop running and stamping my feet on the stairs and corridor, i remember he had a favorite spot close to the window in the sitting room upstairs so he could see those going in and out of the compound, i remember is big old ‘grandpa clock’.i remember thinking to myself “grandpa has such weird head, shiny until half way where he had little hair” (i later learn that’s because he was bald).

Recently, our relationship had been reduced to a Christmas and new year visit, of which sometimes i feel like cutting the time short ‘cos i know he would fill me up with stories about how our family came to be, history behind the family name and how all Tubi’s are connected. i can almost tell the history as he would. sometimes i loved to hear these stories, sometimes i just wanted to say hi and move on to do more youthful stuff. sigh, i wish i had giving him all my attention. He was always so happy to see me, or hear my voice on the phone. I wish i had called him more often.

Last week my mum called me on the phone that grandpa had asked of me, wanted to know if i had gotten to the UK safely, i was ashamed, 3 weeks of being here and i didn’t call him. called him instantly and he was so glad to hear my voice, prayed for me and gave me advice. He sounded so healthy, no hint of the event that would happen today at 1 am. he sounded like a man that would live another 10 years. He sounded like a person that had lived a full life, and was very satisfied. This goes to say no one knows the next second and whats in it.

we as humans we often take family relationships lightly and we value relationships with outsiders and strangers as supreme. we shower more affection on people who often us them as rags. we get too caught up with our self indulgence that we forget to give and take the little moments that make up our existence. we wanna have fun, we wanna live our own idea of whats important, but family IS important. we spend hours on the phone with outsiders but can’t spend 5 minutes with family. if we don’t value and understand the importance of our earthly family, how can we understand God’s family? how can we understand what is and whats not in God’s kingdom if we fail this earthly test? since i got here i haven’t called my maternal grandma, been caught up with  school, and settling in. God help me.

My condolences to the family of Pa oladipupo Tubi, may God receive him into His rest. Grandpa i love you and will miss you.

Oops!


Woke up this morning and a question i usually get from new acquaintances; mostly male jumped into my mind. “What is your most embarrassing moment?”. i am still trying to figure if this sharing of images that should be buried in the sand and locked up in a chest then thrown into the Pacific (God helps the pirate that sees that chest thinking its a treasure) helps in the bonding process. Usually at that point when i’m asked, i go “emm, Uhh…” *crickets* my memory hits skip. But this morning my memory decided to remind me of two vivid moments in my short adult life *sigh* i guess it has a mind of its own, my memory that is. choosing the time to torture my delicate mind.

As fate would have it, these two blush moments are of the same genre (yeah genre I’m allowed to borrow the word to fit my bill nah, right?). The ASS-OOPS! Genre.

Huh hun, ASS! *smh*. My first encounter with the defamation of my ‘chickness’ was during my first year in the university. It was a bright sunny friday. i decided to go to class in ‘trads’ trading it for my usual jeans and tops (note jeans and top is the way forward if you wanna survive in that jungle of a class each morning to get good seats. I’m almost tempted to describe our survival skills for upcoming freshers but i’ll just say make sure you have good sneakers). I didn’t feel like struggling, that morning. lucky for me, i have a cousin who always had empty seats at the front, she likes to think herself landlady, ℓ☺ℓ.

Dressing up took longer than usual, i had to wrestle with the skirt to get it over my bum. Did the material shrink since the last time i wore it? i refuse to think i had added a few pounds, i still look slim, my mirror never lie. To make the process easier, i decided to ditch wearing tights. Wrong idea.

Finally, i got to class. Strolled in like a peacock, with my nose in the air. i could feel the guys checking me out, damn, the ‘trad’ was working its magic, flaunting my figure eight. The shortage of breath was worth the attention. i should get prospects by the end of class. i was happy with myself. i sat close to my friends and cousin at the front of the class. Halfway through the lecture, i received a note from a guy sitting behind me. Wow!, so quick, I’m gonna enjoy today. i opened it and it read “you ass is hanging”. I’m like “what tha heck is he talking about?”. Then i was prompted to check the zipper of my skirt, it had given way! My ass WAS hanging!. You might say “she should have underpants on”. yea i did but they weren’t your regular ‘mum underpants’ if you catch my drift. I had switched to allow my ass fit into the skirt. i took a quick glance at the pips behind me, the roll was occupied by guys i went to secondary school with, amongst them was one that had even asked me out! 😦
Funny i can’t remember how i survived that day. But i sure know i didn’t get any prospects!

My second defamation of ‘chickness’ was during my service year. For those of you who have served or are currently serving, you will attest to the bagco super sack they call khaki. i wonder why they bother to ask us for our size when at the end of the day, we all end up with parachutes *smh*. So as it is the norm, i had my khaki amended at mami market for a whooping 900 naira after much pleading msheeew. If only my ‘London tailor was nearby, 100 naira would have done the trick. The lady did a good job slim fitting it. Too good a job. It fitted my frame like a second skin. At first i was happy but after washing it shrunk. i had become a teblic over night. And so i was doomed to wearing double ‘sokoto’ for the one year service.

On this glorious day of showing, i don’t know what possessed me, i decided to wear my khaki alone. Usually its either i wear my white t-shirt on jeans to the secretariat on reaching there i add my khaki pants on the jeans or i go wearing black jeans with my white t-shirt (this is allowed for corpers in FRSC community development group, Ota secretariat). i guess i wanted to feel like correct ‘otondo’ by dressing 4/6 (that is white t-shirt, khaki trouser, white socks and white tennis minus the cap and khaki jacket).

Anyway, on this blessed day, as i got down from the BRT i felt breeze seeping through my khaki from behind, but i didn’t give it so much as a second thought. As i climbed the ‘okada’ that would take me to the secretariat, the intensity of the breeze on my ass had increase, now i started to worry. When i got down, the khaki had loosed from my the waist to the mid section of my ass. This is not good. My white couldn’t even cover it. the disadvantage of buying police t-shirt. I then remembered i didn’t have my clearance letter from my employer so i had to take a bike to the office.

By the time i got back for my clearance the hole had widened so much i had to use my bag to cover it. i finished clearance Ąπϑ as bad luck would have it, my corper friend with whom i used to hitch a ride home wasn’t around. So i made the humbling journey with my tail feather out for all the corpers to see, got on a bike straight to the BRT terminal. Thank God a bus was waiting there, i practically jumped into the bus. Another bad idea, ‘cos the khaki burst open completely and yours truly was not wearing your usual ‘granny pants’ but the rather eyebrow raising one. i sat down close to entrance praying that today will be like those days when the bus would be scanty. Your guess is as good as mine. It was filled to the door.

As we got closer to oshodi, i was breaking into bouts of sweat. The thought of the whole bus seeing my black ass was terrifying. i begged the lady beside me for her scarf but it was too small. Like she would give a stranger her scarf. i measured the distance of the exit to my seat- 3 strides. As the bus slowed i didn’t wait for it to stop. i was the first one out the door, my bag second but it was useless anyway my ass was out for the world to see. Thank God i met a pashmina trader where i got down.

So lessons to be learnt;
1. If you are going to wear eye popping underpants, please have security either in the form of tights, shorts, or ‘shimi’
2. If you decide to put on something that is next to skin please, wear undies that cover your ass properly Ąπϑ won’t show traces on your outfit.
3. Please avoid outfits that you struggle into. The pleasure is only for a moment. The aftermath is a disaster.
4. We can’t always predict opps!, so ladies have a permanent pashmina in your bag.
5. Corpers make sure there is enough allowance for shrinkage when slim-fitting your khaki

I hope my ordeals have taught you something.