Wednesday, January 31, 2007

I Rise

When you’ve been hurt by someone you loved, anger is good. It’s what makes you strong... It’s what makes you a survivor. Those who have no anger at injustice are weak. They are the ones who ultimately fail. I’ve had many tragedies, but each time I rise. Sometimes it’s fast and sometimes it’s slow… but I rise. I rise from the ashes of pain. I rise from the ashes of unappreciation. I rise from the ashes of guilt. I rise from the ashes that was our friendship. I’ve fanned the stinging embers of loneliness and loss until they flamed into sparkling fires of will and determination. And because I did, I will survive.

Friday, January 26, 2007

Mummy Sunday 9

Inspired by one of my favorite bloggers LondonBuki, this is my ninth Mummy Sunday post!!! I dedicate it to all those who believe in us… with your wings, we can fly.


Next Stop: London, England

My mother had a dream of going to England for as long as she could remember. She’d told her parents countless times, but of course she was from a poor family, so it was almost unthinkable. They simply couldn’t afford it… and even if they could…it would probably have made more sense to send her older brother Okoro instead.


My mom did everything in her power to convince her parents otherwise… studied harder, helped out around the house more, anything to prove how ‘disciplined’ she was…


An opportunity came through after her high school education and they decided to let her follow her dream… They’d send her to London for her post-secondary studies.

Numerous friends and family members objected… because she was female and would only study to benefit her future husband.

A few guys were asking for her hand in marriage at the time but she wouldn’t even consider it because she had decided that nothing would keep her from her “British Dream”.

Her parents were ridiculed for allowing her to reject such ‘wealthy suitors’…


It’s been over two decades, but her parents have never once regretted that decision.

She proved to them that anything a male can do… a female can do just as well


So the marriage thing with Papa Overwhelmed never worked out… but she has two amazing children to show for it

She’s made sure her parents are in comfort for the rest of their natural lives… how’s that for a ‘female’?


I just wanted to send a big shoutout to my Grandpa… the old-school feminist.

Happy Wedding Anniversary Papa Nnukwu

Thursday, January 25, 2007

The ‘Psychic’ Tag

Unnaked Soul tagged me and apparently he’ll reveal some insights into my personality based on my answers. Try it if you want… it’s some fun!


Question 1:

Imagine you are in a desert (are you there?);
Now imagine a ladder (are you seeing it?);
Now what is the position of the ladder? i.e Lying down, Resting on something, Standing alone...
Logic says that a ladder can’t stand by itself… but I say fuck it… who gives a rats ass about logic in a bloody desert?


Question2:
Image a horse in that same desert (are you there?);
What is the colour of the horse?
What is the horse doing?
The horse is a colour I call ‘sweet dark brown chocolate’ (just like my boyfriend’s skin colour… lol).

The horse is galloping towards me so it can rescue me out of the desert hell-hole.


Question 3:
Come back to reality...
Give three reasons why you like water:
Water will wash me clean of the sticky, sandy feel of the desert

Water will quench my thirst

Water shows that I have hope… I might not die in the desert afterall


Question 4:
What is your favourite colour?
Give the three reasons why you like that colour:
Red

It punches up every outfit

It’s a sensual colour

I look amazing in it

Question 5:
What is your favourite animal (Even if you don't like, what would it be if you do?)
Give three reasons why you like/would like that animal.
Leopard

It’s very slinky

Its spots are quite chic/fashionable

It’s somewhat dangerous and has a very sexy growl

Question 6:
Imagine you wake up in a white room with no door, and no window.
What will be your first reaction?
What will be your reaction afterwards?
How the fuck did I get here?

How the fuck do I get out of here?

Question 7:
Without thinking, name two opposite sex names that are not your family member:
1. Kimor
2. Naijadude

Question 8:
Without thinking, name someone from your family member:
1. Justina

Question 9:
Name anyone, same sex or otherwise, that is not a family member:
1. Laspapi

Question 10:
List four of your favourite music title:
Karolina by Awilo Longomba

Hurt By Christina Aguilera

Rapture by Anita Baker

Lost without you by Robin Thicke

Sway by Michael Buble


Question 11:
List four of your favourite location/city:

Toronto

Port Harcourt

Accra

Montreal


Last One:
Arrange these animals according to your preference:
Tiger, Sheep, Cow, Monkey, Eagle

Tiger, Eagle, Monkey, Cow, Sheep

*I hope the results for this tag will prove what I already know... that i'll retain my natural beauty, charm and success well into my 70's. Plus I'll marry a handsome, tall guy who will dance with me to the Melodies of Awilo Longomba and Celine Dion on my wedding day. I'll have gorgeous mischevious and terribly smart children named after cities like Milan, Paris, and star in Nollywood and Hollywood movies. I will own homes in Port Harcourt, Johannesburg, Italy, Canada and England. My husband will find joy in me spending his millions on designer clothes and shoes, and give me deep tissue massages and be 'down for whatever'...lol *

IMPORTANT:

ConfusedNaijaGirl has a fantastic and thought-provoking post on her blog titled “A culture of silence”. In it, she talks about the hush-hush attitude of our people towards rape and child molestation… the way it is brushed under the carpet… treated as though it never really happens. Children are threatened, made to feel guilty… filthy. I think it’s a fantastic idea that she’s able to speak out against these sick and depraved acts... they undermine the confidence and self-respect of so many young kids... even scar a lot of them for life. It’d be fantastic if you could go on her blog and read the post. You can email her at con4fused@yahoo.com if you have a similar story to tell…she’ll be doing weekly posts just sharing people’s stories(anonymously of course). I believe in the power of collective healing… a problem shared is a problem half- solved. When we can talk about it… we can help to overcome that ‘culture of silence’.


Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Second Time’s The Charm?

Two summers ago, I met Kofi at a Ghanaian picnic. The picnic was amazing fun… good food, good people, good music. Half an hour before I left, an old friend Kudjoe came up and said hi. Actually, Kudjoe’s not really a friend… he’s more a guy who liked me in the past that I was never interested in. Anyways, Kudjoe introduced us and we hit it off. Apparently Kofi had been trying to ‘meet’ me the entire day but I’d been too busy having fun.


We talked for a bit… his statistics were looking good… 6ft 3, almost cute, medium build, 23, in university… I told him to get my number from his friend (I had to make sure it was alright with Kudjoe… he did like me in the past after all). But Kudjoe said to give him my number… so I did.


Kofi was pretty nice. I mean he did stutter a little and talk through his nose sometimes… but who am I to judge someone with a little speech impediment. It wasn’t like he spoke only vowels.


We went on a couple of dates in the first 2-3 months. Looking back now though, none of these dates were particularly memorable… just a pleasant passing of time with a somewhat pleasant guy. One thing my best friend did have a problem with at the time was the fact that he was usually only available in the evenings/night. I reasoned it was alright… he was in school and had a part-time job.


Actually there was one memorable date come to think of it… The night we went and made out in my old high school and drove around naked. See every once in a while I get a little crazy and do something a little wild… that was definitely one of those days… lol. I also remember that his fingers were quite long and fidgety… not quite a turn-on. Things with him were somewhat mechanical… just a little ‘textbook’. Basically up till that point… we were just having a lot of ‘surface orgasms’ (don’t even pretend you don’t know what those are… lol). He asked me to be his girlfriend a few times but I always gave very vague responses.


A month or so after, I decided I wasn’t really that interested in him and didn’t want to continue. I mean he was alright but I just wasn’t “catching feelings” for him. It was obvious he liked me… but I wasn’t quite there so I talked to him less and less. Then my mom disconnected my phone for about 6 weeks. The day she reconnected it, Kofi called me. I was so surprised… apparently homeboy had been trying my line every other day just to see if I’d reconnect my phone… that’s dedication right? I mean how do you say thank you to someone for that sort of thing?


Fuck him?!

Lol… not really… well at least not like that!!


With my phone back on, we sort of started talking again. Another month into it, we decided to give it another go. I’d been a little sick and didn’t want to go out so he said he’d just drop by and check on me for an hour or two. He brought some stuff over… I think some food, wine, ice cream, chocolate… things like that.


We ate and just chilled… and I think danced a little… Kofi had two left feet but he looked a little cute shuffling them around. Thank God he kissed better than he danced!


We were making out for a little while… I knew exactly the moment the mood changed. I realized this time he actually wanted to have sex with me. You know that moment when you think to yourself “I could let this happen… or I could stop it right now”. The thing was the only actual sex I’d ever had before Kofi was with my first which turned out horribly (lol…I believe everybody and their mama’s knows about the ‘rag doll’ experience at this point). I’d had opportunities since then but I didn’t really want to. I was about to stop him when it occurred to me that I might have a problem if I kept up with it… I mean I could end up rejecting every guy… never having sex ever again... being scarred and in the past my entire life.


I decided to go through with it… I guess I did it to prove to myself that I could.


I think we did the missionary… it hurt like Hell!!! But for every 10 seconds of pain… there was 1 second of sweet joy.


He came. I hadn’t.


I initiated the second round. I tried to ride him… searing pain brought me down from my high horse… lol. We reverted to the missionary… it was a bit better than the first one… but still not the ‘amazing grace’ everybody’d been singing about… I mean it was good… but I remembered a certain sense of disappointment… this was IT?!?!


One thing I do remember quite distinctly is this feeling that he didn’t believe he was the second guy I ever had sex with. I had told him this a time or two… I mean he never argued… but you know that look a guy gives you like sure buddy… at 19… I’m your second indeed!


Everytime he’d call me after that, he was always trying to initiate some sex talk… imaginary sex… or discuss the one we’d already had. I mean I’d grown to sort of like the dude… I did share my body with him after all… but I really would rather not extol the virtues of doggystyle on the phone with him… at least not yet!


I started avoiding his calls for that… coupled with the fact that he was a bit hot and cold. He’d call me telling me how much he missed me and wanted to see me during the week. Then he wouldn’t call to actually make the plans. After a while, I just couldn’t be bothered. I wasn’t “frigid” and that made me happier than I could ever explain… everything else could be sold to a Saudi Arabian Shepherd.


We talked less and less… the one day he told me he missed me terribly and wanted to salvage something out of what we had cos we were good together. We agreed that he’d come pick me up in the evening. Unfortunately that day, I’d gone downtown and was running late, so I told him to come pick me up from downtown and we could go out from there or he could drive me home to go change. Kofi told me that there was traffic and he was feeling lazy… so I was to find my way home and call him when I got home so he’d come pick me up.


That was the end of it for me


I mean we still see each other sometimes and I don’t mind replying his hi’s and bye’s cos he was a pretty nice guy… and I owe him a thank you for helping me prove to myself that I wasn’t completely frozen inside. That being said… I obviously have no interest in hooking up anymore or giving him my number. My earlier postConversations With An Exspeaks for itself.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Conversation With An Ex

I have this habit of never being friends with my ex’s. I usually don’t like to keep in contact because all they ever do is try to get back together (which I obviously want none of). I mean if t(he)y say(s) hi, I’ll be polite… I just never go out of my way to chat. I didn’t keep in contact with the only two guys that I kinda still liked after we broke things off just so I could heal and get over it completely.


Anyways, I saw one of my ex’s Kofi(6ft 3 inches tall, cute abs, Ghanaian, in university, slightly cute, great abs) at a party two weeks ago, and he just couldn’t keep his eyes off me. He even came and stood close to me so he could be catching all my ‘sexy movements’. Everytime I passed by him, he’d ask if I was alright (course I am… wasn’t that obvious?). I was so happy cos I was looking ‘stupendously sexy’. He didn’t even bother trying to ask for my new number again this time probably because of the conversation I had with him when he tried it at a Ghanaian concert about 11 months ago:


Kofi: Hey overwhelmed… long time no see or hear

Overwhelmed: I know… how you doing?

Kofi: Well I’m good… but even better now that I see you here… you’re looking good as always babe

Overwhelmed: Thanks… you’re not looking so bad yourself

Kofi: I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for a long while but you changed your number.

Overwhelmed: Yea

Kofi: Why don’t you give me your new number?

Overwhelmed: Why?

Kofi: Why not?

Overwhelmed: I’m just saying… how come you want my number?

Kofi: So we can just talk you know… I mean I can just call you up once in a while to chat

Overwhelmed: I’m so sorry Kofi… I don’t have a phone

Kofi: lol… Overwhelmed please stop your jokes… I can see the phone in your hand… just give me your number

Overwhelmed: I’m sorry… I can’t… I don’t think my husband would like that

Kofi: Husband? Overwhelmed which husband? I know you’re not married…

Overwhelmed: I am… and my husband is not in support of me having any male friends… he feels that anything I want to tell a ‘male friend’, I can either tell him or one of my girlfriends. I mean I remember you as a nice guy, and I would’ve loved to give you my number but imagine if I do that and my husband divorces me, do you have the means to keep me in the comfort I’ve become used to?

Kofi: lol… do you have any proof of this your marriage?

Overwhelmed: Of course… can’t you see my huge diamond ring? (lol… thankfully I was wearing a huge gorgeous cocktail ring)

Kofi: That is not a wedding ring… it’s a fashion ring

Overwhelmed: I know… it’s not a traditional wedding ring… but my husband is aware that when I come to these parties by myself… there will be a lot of guys trying to take me away from him… so for that reason instead of getting just a small ring that nobody will notice, he got me this huge 46 carat diamond ring so that every guy can notice it from whatever corner and stay far away from me. (lmao… by this time Kofi was laughing so hard I almost blew my cover and joined in)

Kofi: Overwhelmed… I can see you’re still as full of shit as ever… anyways girl take care of yourself and say hi to your husband

Overwhelmed: oh I will… and you be safe too


(lol… immediately he left, me and my friends started laughing so hard the artist on stage actually started looking in our corner thinking we were laughing at him… husband indeed… lol)


No wonder he didn’t ask me for my number again two weeks ago… lol… I guess he didn’t want to hear my new ‘story’. As my mom would say… “A foolish answer for a foolish request”. I mean this dude was aware when I actually liked him in the past but he was always being hot today and cold tomorrow. Of course, once I decided to kill the whole thing… he was on my ass like white on rice. But I had already X’d it… Forward Ever... Backward Never!


{This guy was actually the second guy I ever had sex with, so I’ll probably write a more detailed post about how we met and how things ended when I have a minute}

(Unnaked Soul… I promise I’ll do the tag immediately after I put up my next post)

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Mummy Sunday 8

Inspired by one of my favorite bloggers LondonBuki, this is my eight Mummy Sunday post!!! This one is for every guy who doesn’t deserve my mommy… go on… get out!!!

Chasing Emeka Away
My mom met Emeka through her ex-best friend Aunty Ifunanya. Emeka came to Canada about 3 years ago. Apparently Emeka and Aunty Ifunanya went to the same high school in Nigeria.

I remember when Emeka started coming around our house. He was a bit fresh… I think he’d been here for only 6 months… the winter hadn’t broken him in yet. Mommy apparently agreed to date him because we seemed to like him(at least compared to every other dude). Yes, we used to like him… when we thought he was just going to be a family friend!

A few months into his visits, we started noticing ‘vibes’.


I mean the dude was around ALL THE TIME!!!
I’d go to school and come back…
HE WAS AT MY HOUSE
I’d step out to the convenience store, and when I got back…
HE WAS AT MY HOUSE!
I’d go shoe shopping, only to come back and meet him… AT MY HOUSE!!
I’d bloody wake up from sleep in the morning and… HE WAS AT MY HOUSE!!!

He even had a room in my house for crying out loud

I didn’t trust him… I mean the dude was about 4 years older than my mom and trying to start his life over(at forty something) and relatively new to the country. How was I to know he wasn’t just trying to use my mom to get his footings, papers… as well as her business and home?!?!

I was 17 and my younger sister Fire was 15.
He didn't even have the decency to talk to us about his intentions


There were just too many points on the ‘against Emeka’ line of debate:
1)My mom gave him his first job managing her new 'store'
2)All the furniture in his apartment came from ‘the store’, all the clothes in the closet were also from ‘the store’
3)He slept over at my house about 5 days in the week
4)He snored like a Kenyan Helicopter
5)He ate too much… his stomach was like a geepee tank… he was eating us out of house and home… I was cooking for 7 instead of 3 or 4!
6)He worshipped my mom(not in an ‘I-love-you’ boyfriend kind of way- but in a “you’re-my-meal-ticket’ kind of way)… and everybody could see it but her!
7)He even had a bloody key to my house and could just drop in anytime he wanted… MY OWN BLOODY HOUSE>>> imagine the rubbish!


I couldn’t respect the dude… I mean I understood the immigrant thing(I mean weren’t we all immigrants at some point or the other?), but what stopped him from getting a job elsewhere?
My mom signed his weekly paycheque… I mean she talked to him as an ‘employee’ at the workplace(and knowing my mom… she is a ‘work perfectionist’ and will take you to task if your work isn’t up to par) and a ‘boyfriend’ after work… TRIPLE EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Strike One was the ‘booty short incident’:
On a really hot summer night, I woke up from sleep to get a glass of water.
Mama Overwhelmed: Hey, how come you’re walking around the house naked like that
Overwhelmed: I’m not naked… I’m wearing shorts and a tank top
Mama Overwhelmed: Well you can’t be wearing your underwear around the house like that
Overwhelmed: Why not?
Mama Overwhelmed: Well, first of all we have a visitor…
Overwhelmed: Visiting whom exactly? Me I didn't invite anybody here oh. I mean how can somebody come into my own house and make me uncomfortable? Anybody who doesn’t belong here should pack their stuff and go home… I’m not in the mood to see anybody anyways. Besides, I was just sleeping and came down to get some water… so I couldn’t be bothered to find pants or something.

{I came back from school the next day and all my booty shorts and cleavage tops and short skirts were gone… my mom had suddenly decided that my clothes were ‘inappropriate’}
Years of shopping, hours spent trudging around malls for the perfect skirt, trips out of the city to find a perfect ‘Friday night shirt’… GONE FOREVER!
My money, my time, my effort… GONE!!!

That was when I knew I had to put something in motion… EMEKA HAD TO GO!!!

I made the plans with my accomplice (my younger sister Fire) and she executed them:
We started out with little things like putting too much salt in his food, my sister putting out her legs to trip him… just little things

Then came the second blow:
A few months later, my mom was trying to develop some business idea and she had to spend a lot of money for it.
She asked him for advice and he told her to go for it(probably to further his ambition and ‘climb up the ladder’… I mean he couldn’t be a' store manager' forever right?). She wasn’t sure how to get the money needed.

Mr. Genius Emeka told my mom to use the money she was supposed to use to pay for my tuition… that I could take a student loan… everybody did… and that I’d start paying it back when I graduated just like everybody else.

She used my money!!!
{I mean I'm not really mad at the decision cos she has to do what she has to do to put food on our table... but I couldn't stand the fact that he suggested it... slimy bastard}

I had to step up the game… this mother****** just had to go before he did any more damage

Plan B: to make his existence in our house a complete misery
We made up a code name for him. Anytime he’d pass by… we’d make a really loud snore sound
Actually Fire did that to alert me of his presence. Then we’d start speaking of a woman we knew who ate too much and snored like a donkey.
Overwhelmed: why do you think the lady ate so much?
Fire: She was used to drinking garri and salt for breakfast, so when she came across toast and pancakes, she couldn’t believe her luck. For her, life had just begun. So she ate and ate and ate some more.
Overwhelmed: So when she got full… what did she do?
Fire: She snored…
(and then Fire would make his dreadful snoring noises and we’d laugh until we fell on the floor… lol)

Note: we did this every single time he came around, which was very often… so he definitely heard this routine quite a bit. He even told my mom… lol… and she told him we’d come around.

NOT!

He also told my mom he was a little scared of me. It was obvious to him that my sister didn’t like him, so he was at least aware of what she was capable of and could work with that. But me… I laughed and smiled like nothing was wrong… but the look in my eyes sometimes… he knew I was capable of terrible things… lol.

APPARENTLY NOT ENOUGH FOR HIM TO LEAVE OUR FAMILY ALONE!
We kept torturing him in little ways but he refused to get a clue.

The final blow for him was 2005 Christmas:
My mom went to Nigeria and he went to drop her off at the airport. He came back to our house and I’d locked him out. He obviously had a key, but I had put on the chain deadbolt, I mean it was time for this guy to just go back to his apartment. I WAS PUTTING MY FOOT DOWN!

He rang the doorbell but we put on loud music and ignored it. I came downstairs a few minutes later and he was still ringing the doorbell. I walked past the door. I know he saw me and he knew that I knew that he saw me. Then about 3 minutes later, I called my sister Fire to go and open the door for him.

Immediately my mom came back from Nigeria… they broke up… apparently we were terrors!
Oh the joy!!!!!!!!!!!!


The ‘official story’ is that I’m wicked and he couldn’t take it anymore.
The honest truth is that Emeka had started disconnecting since my mom’s “store” fell apart. It hadn’t been generating revenue for almost a year and she was tired of ‘carrying’ it, so she sold.

After over 2 years of my mom’s hospitality, Emeka found himself in the job market. I can’t even begin to imagine how scary that was for a forty something year old man.
He started coming over less and talking back to my mom sometimes.
Things fell apart when the ‘center’ could not hold!


Chances are if you’re in the Igbo community in Canada, you’ve heard the story of the terrible duo… Overwhelmed and Fire
Emeka never tires of telling people what a terrible family we are… all this coming from the guy who wanted to be our ‘step-father’…
He tells them how much he 'didn't benefit' from my mom is to which she simply responds: “I am a woman and expect to be taken care of and spoiled by a man… not the other way around

What Sort Of Man Runs His Mouth Like That Anways?
A man like Emeka that’s who… we later found out that this was how he went through life… looking for comfortable women and living off them… he didn’t know the family he was trying to mess with… Plus he’s mad cos I’m guessing it’s probably been a long time since he had toast and pancakes for breakfast… SNORING FOOL/ BLOODY GOLDDIGGER!!!!!!

I might become a Medical Doctor in the future. I might find the cure for cancer, help in eradicating world poverty, or possibly even find a way to restore Stevie Wonders eyesight… but one of my proudest accomplishments will always be “CHASING EMEKA AWAY”!!!

Friday, January 19, 2007

Habits I want to break

1. I hate putting cooked food in the fridge... so I’m always reheating it… and after a warm or two, it tastes different and I don’t want to eat it anymore. Waste of money! When I’m home, mom usually puts the food away… but everytime I move back to school.. same story. Time to do something about it cos when I forget to warm the food… it goes bad… Another waste of money!
Benefit: I could use the money I’d save to buy a pair or shoes or 10

2. I’m such a big procrastinator. I always put everything till last minute and usually end up not having things at the standard I want them to be or even at the time I need ‘em!
Benefit: I could have more free time and stop being stressed about certain shit. Plus maybe I could go Makossa dancing more

3. Getting addicted to stuff. Every once in a while I get addicted to something… it could be anything from microwave popcorn, leggings, black nail polish, a musician, purple shirts to pickles. This is not a problem at the time cos it works and I love it for a while. But then after a while, I get tired of most things. Some after a week, some after a year… but the point is I get tired.
Benefit: I could have a lot more variety that my ‘addiction-at-the-time’

4. Eating weird. When I’m at my family home I just eat any and everything at anytime. Sometimes I eat 6 times a day… always snacking on something and visiting the fridge every 30 minutes. I always gain weight whenever I’m home. But when I go back to my ‘school home’, I don’t really like cooking or eating that much… so I lose weight… enough for my mom to ask me if I’m starving in school. After the past Christmas holidays in my family, I’ve probably gained about 4 or 6 pounds (I’ve never weighed myself so I’m just doing some guessing) and that sucks ass. So I gotta find a balance in my eating habits between my ‘school home’ and ‘family home’
Benefit: I don’t keep gaining and losing… and just stick where I’m at… cos I hate feeling ‘right’ today and ‘tight’ the next day.

5. Not doing what I say I will (different from procrastination… cos procrastination implies that I will actually do it… just at a later time). In this case… sometimes I think I need to do something… but never actually commit to getting it done. Case in point: My 6-pack. Now I’ve always wanted one, but I’ve never actually said I’d work towards getting one. Due to my excessive eating over the Christmas season, I’ve put on a few pounds… and they all went to my belly. I mean I got the tae bo abdominal video thing a few months ago but I never did it... but before I got it… I swore that was the only thing keeping me from a 6-pack. Now I’ve decided it’s not… and that an exercise ball is. The boyfriend said he’d get me one if I wanted it and was actually going to use it. I said I would… but knowing me…. Actually no… that’s not the point of this write-up… the point is to change those things… so yes… I will use the exercise ball to get my 6-pack because I’m thinking of getting my belly button repierced before my birthday and my stomach is not exactly in the perfect state to be shown… lol… the boyfriend disagrees… but isn’t that his job… to make me feel like a queen?
Benefit: I feel better?

6. Shaving. I’m not a terribly big fan of shaving. I’m not really hairy and will shave my legs when I’m wearing a skirt out… but during the winters especially when I know I won’t be wearing skirts, I usually don’t shave my legs that often (lol… about once a month). This isn’t really a problem but the shaving thing also extends to my privates. When I don’t have a boyfriend or anyone seeing it… I probably only shave down there once every 3 weeks (terrible… I know especially as most of my friends shave twice a week or once at the very least… lol). Now the not-so-great thing is that for some strange reason… I’ve been too ‘lazy?’ to shave and the boyfriend actually asked me to… lol… this open relationship ‘we-can-talk-to-each-other-about-anything’ thing can be such a pain sometimes… lol. Anyways, I want to start ‘feeling the desire to shave more often’… I don’t want to do it because of a boyfriend… I want to 'want to do it'…
Benefit: No more burning bush innuendos from the boyfriend… lol

7. Feeling disconnected. Lately I’ve started feeling disconnected from a lot of stuff. I don’t know if there’s any particular situation/reason for this… but there are things I gotta fix.
Benefit: when things are fixed… they aren’t broken anymore?!?!

8. Buying summer shoes all the time. I don't really like winter boots… for some reason I’m addicted to ‘summer heels’… you know your regular stilettos, peep-toes, wedges, strappy sandals(by the way… for some strange reason I don’t really like ones that tie at the ankle… well except for one pair that I totally love). I probably only have about 6 winter boots… and I hardly if ever wear them (my best friend Naijadyme pointed this out to me last week). I need to start buying more and falling in love with winter boots… seeing as it’s colder most of the year than it’s warm.
Benefit: warmer feet that are still sexy?

9. Crying so easily. I cry at everything… commercials, songs, books, movies. shows… EVERYTHING! It’s a problem cos I can’t bloody control it… I mean I could just hear someone say they felt like they weren’t pretty as a kid… tears run down my eyes. I could hear a song about someone missing their dead dog… and I’d cry. I could watch a movie where someone bursts into song cos their boyfriend is leaving em or someone perfects a dance everyone doubted they could do… I cry. I hardly if ever cry about my problems... but I do for others'. This is a bloody problem… Saddest part is… I don’t think I can do shit about it… except maybe… become a Nollywood actress and have them cast me only in those scenes where I get to cry(like Stella Damasus Abodein and Nkeiru ‘whateverherlastname is’… actually this might not be a bad habit after all…
Benefit: If I get into Nollywood, that’s a benefit… if that fails… then see an eye/tear duct Doctor… lol

10. Not being seriously willing to visit Nigeria. I mean I always say I will do it… but I back out at the last minute. My mom bought tickets in December 2005, but I decided not to go eventually. I promised I would go summer 2006 but decided I wanted to get a summer job… I decided to make it December 2006, but I backed out last minute… I um… had to um… do boxing day sales? Lol… I know… the excuse was pretty lame… especially seeing as my mom will actually pay for the ticket. I guess part of my fear is that my dad might find out we’re there and I’m not completely ready to deal with him yet. My mom tells me we won’t go where he lives… but then there’s the dilemma… that’s where all my friends are… and since I don’t have any of their numbers, emails or addresses, I’d have to go visit to meet up with at least one or two. I mean if I went and stayed with my mom’s people who I don’t really know… they might be older people not willing to club/show me around… then that’d just be a flop. But I know if I met up with my old friends… that’d be the ultimate Naija Experience. So I guess I gotta find a way to get in contact with my old friends and actually go through with my promise to visit Nigeria this Christmas. I mean everybody that went from Noni Moss, Vickii, Maiden Voyage, Babe, Temmytayo to LondonBuki are saying good things right?
Benefit: I get to eat suya, isi ewu, abacha/Ugba, fried yam, ofe owerri, amala, fried snails, drink akamu, palm wine, schnapps(lol… I just always wanted to know what it tastes like!) plus I heard there’s a strip club in Nigeria… it’s more important for me to see that than it is for me to see the bloody Eiffel Tower or even pyramids of Egypt… a strip club in Lagos?!?! My own Lagos?... now that I gotta see!!! Lol(notice how I only get selective information about Naija… I know when a strip club opened there but just ask me who is running for presidency in Nigeria right now… and I won’t have a bloody clue… hehe… can someone say selective memory?! lol)

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Dirty African Hobo Guy

I woke up on Wednesday last week and I just looked in the mirror and thought to myself… babe you’re pretty. (lol… have you ever had one of those moments? When you see what everybody else sees in you?!... No? lol… well I did last Wednesday).


So I decided to get a new pair of shoes to celebrate this (not that I need a reason to buy shoes anyway).

I was at the subway, waiting for the bus to take me to the store, minding my own business… when a dirty African hobo guy started walking down the subway stairs.


How did I even notice a Dirty African Hobo seeing as I was ‘busy minding my business’?

I’ll tell you how:

Dude was walking down the stairs, clutching his waist and grunting ‘yay, ouch, ay, ouch, oh, ay, ouch’

Lol… seriously… I couldn’t believe my ears… I mean if I was hearing this behind closed doors, I would think it was a grandpa due for a hip replacement still trying to catch some ‘senior doggy style’.


Anyways, everybody turns to look at the dude cos it was pretty loud and strange… I mean seriously who does that.


So I was still standing there waiting for my bus, ‘minding my business’


Guess who walked up to me?!?!
YES… THE DIRTY AFRICAN HOBO!!!


He walked right up into my face: I could see he was African (probably Somalian or Ethiopian), he was old (as in older than my mama old… 50? 60?)… had some gray hair, was wearing dark dirty clothes, looked like he’d worked a triple 8 hour shift at the factory(yes… 24 hours straight… you couldn’t look that bad working anything less than 24 hours straight!)


Anyways, he gets right in my face and opened his mouth to the ugliest and dirtiest teeth I’ve ever had the misfortune of seeing in my life. They were dark/yellowish black?/ uneven, somewhat smelly… and worst of all he had a gob of something on his lower teeth. A very dark gob that looked like a clop of burnt fried plantains glued there… it was scary.


I’m a tall girl… I was even taller than this guy but I was scared out of my mind… I mean this was a public place for chrissake but I almost couldn’t breathe… Mr. Hobo Man was reeking and ugly… and just unpleasant looking.


Dirty African Hobo: Hi, you’re beautiful

Overwhelmed: Thanks

Dirty African Hobo: you’re really beautiful

Overwhelmed: Thanks a lot

Dirty African Hobo: Are you married?

Overwhelmed: Well um

Dirty African Hobo: I want to marry you

Overwhelmed: What?


He inched even closer… the man was like just a breath away from me… and I was looking around for someone to help/rescue me… but every one gave him a wide berth… it was me against Mr. Hobo Man


Dirty African Hobo: Yes I want to marry you… I’m a chemical engineer and I’m making $24 dollars an hour. I have all this money and no one to spend it on… I want to marry someone I love and take care of you as my wife… so are you married?

Overwhelmed: Yes, I’m already in the process of getting married
Dirty African Hobo: You look so nervous… you keep wringing your hands and shifting and picking your sweater and moving away… don’t be nervous or scared of me

Overwhelmed: um… I’m ok…


He inched even closer if that was possible


Dirty African Hobo: Yes… you are too young to be married. So did this guy actually ask you to marry him?

Overwhelmed: yes

Dirty African Hobo: And you said

Overwhelmed: yes… in a little while

Dirty African Hobo: you’re really beautiful… you should go to school instead of getting married

Overwhelmed: I do

Dirty African Hobo: I want to marry you

Overwhelmed: …..

Dirty African Hobo: I’m from Africa and I saw you from the stairs and I want to marry you. I can do black magic… I’m from Africa


At this point I was almost wringing my sweater off… and the scariest part was that I wanted to move away but this guy looked downright demonic… I mean I wondered if he’d kill me or something if I told him to go away… I mean I knew if I walked away he’d follow me….


Then... my saving grace:

My boyfriend called my cell phone…. Lol… you should’ve seen the speed with which I picked up the phone. I never pick up that fast even when the Chinese people are delivering my Satay Beef!


Overwhelmed: Hey Baby, I missed you, I wanna see you… I can’t wait… baby um

(In the meantime… Dirty African Hobo was just looking me up and down… his eyes were shooting sparks forreal)

Boyfriend: lol… are you alright?


I slowly walked away and fortunately my bus came so I quickly walked away from Dirty African Hobo guy who kept squinting his eyes at me

Needless to say, to make up for the terrible encounter, I ended up getting 5 pairs of shoes instead of one… lol… what can I say… I needed to be surrounded by pretty things at the time… and trying those shoes on and taking them home definitely did the trick.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

My Best Friend Angela

Angela and I have been best friends for about 2 years. She’s one of the sweetest people I know. She’s nice,hilarious, honest... and just so giving. I love this girl so much cos she’s one of those friends who will go out of her way for me, as I would for her.


Unfortunately, Angela relocated about 6 months ago to another city to spend time with her family and I’ve only seen her a few times since. In spite of that, whenever we do get together or talk on the phone, we just continue from where we left off.


I missed her so much


BUT NOW SHE’S BACK BABY!!!


She got back in yesterday and I was just ectastic!!!


We talked for at least 3 hours bringing each other up to date on everything.


I’m Sad:

I'm sad because she was sick over the holiday and I didn’t even know it. I mean I was sick as hell too with food poisoning… but hers was worse…I mean she had to go to the hospital (yeah… it was that bad!!!). She had lost so much blood that they even wanted to give her a blood transfusion… her blood iron, hemoglobin, just about everything blood related in her system is messed up!


My Best Friend Angela has a blood clot or fibroid in her uterus: I’m silently crying…

I’m crying cos she’s having surgery in a month or less

I’m crying cos some people don’t survive the surgery

I’m crying cos even if it is successful, this surgery might not be her last

I’m crying cos in a critical situation, they might have to completely remove her uterus and render her barren for the rest of her life

I’m crying cos she doesn’t have any kids

I’m crying cos in the worst case scenario… my best friend Angela could die!!!


I mean we knew there was a problem from before because she always had really heavy periods and for the last month or two she spent here before relocating, she was having 10-15 day periods… but we never thought it was this bad.


Wherever you are, whatever your faith, please help me say a prayer for my Best Friend Angela that the Lord keeps her safe for me.


I love her too much to contemplate anything other than her total and complete recovery…


Please please… help me pray for my best friend Angela.

Monday, January 15, 2007

I hope he didn’t hear me

The boyfriend was over on Sunday.


He’s one of the most genuine people I know

I remember the day I met him like it was yesterday...

I was in a terrible mood and he still managed to make me laugh.

I spent the rest of the day thinking about him and the months after falling deeply into him.


He’s that one boyfriend that I’ve been able to tell everything… the tragedy, the pain, the hurt and all the mistakes that I’ve made.

In front of someone else I might’ve felt some embarrassment… some need to keep some of it to myself… but we’re past the point of secrets and fiction


It used to feel like I was stuck in an eternal winter… but he’s brought sunshine.

There’s enough warmth and heat that the ice in my heart thaws just a little more everytime we’re together.

I no longer feel as emotionally empty… as cold


Sometimes I wonder how someone who’s been through so much could retain such honesty and charm.


He’s given me back something I thought I had lost a long time ago…


Now I have laughter and spontaneous celebration


The past 9 months knowing him has been a marvel, an adventure, an exciting journey.

Being with him is easy… safe, warm, comfortable and easy.


He was over on Sunday and we just held each other.

With the familiarity that comes from extended intimacy we knew not to rush as we were already aware of what the night would bring.

He lit a candle and we talked and laughed, ate and drank.

When all our other needs were satisfied and passion was the only one left, we made love.

It was sweet, tender and gentle… all the things that he is


Then I blurted out:

I Love You


(and instantly went into panic attack mode)

(I mean I’ve never ever said that to a guy before. I really like my boyfriend but I'm not sure that I love him... I mean I couldn't... at least not yet... I'm so confused...)

I know he already loves me

I still have some thinking to do… but in the meantime… I really hope he didn’t hear me!!!

Thursday, January 11, 2007

High Horses

Being on a high horse means assuming an ‘attitude of arrogant superiority’ (www.wordnet.com). It is to be disdainful, superior, or conceited. Different people have different reasons for starting blogs… some write to entertain the masses, some write to be discovered, some write to keep track of their lives, some write to meet others, some write to resolve certain issues in their lives, some write for a combination of the above reasons.


I knew all this the day I decided to start up my blog. I also realized that by creating a blog and making it accessible to the general public, I was giving up a certain part of myself and making myself open to public opinion which includes support, advice, and of course criticism.


I also know that in the ‘free world’, there is freedom of speech. It’s also obvious that people grow up in different environments, which shape their different opinions. That’s all well and good.


Now what I can’t understand and refuse to understand is people who ‘get on their high horses and pronounce judgement on me here… especially in matters of ‘certain morality’.


It’s funny because most people that do this cite the bible and other ‘moral/spiritual quotations’


That kills me because what this implies is that these ‘upholders of the law of Christ’ are somehow better because they’ve read numerous bible quotations, go to church once or twice a week, and probably have their pastors number on speed dial.


I’m probably not the most religious person out there. I mean I believe in God, his mercies, his power, his son Jesus, but I don’t go to church every Sunday, don’t know my pastors number and only remember a few bible quotations(mostly ones that I was made to memorize as a child)


One thing I distinctly remember is that when people were trying to stone Mary Magdalene in the good book, Jesus told the peopleHe who is without sin, cast the first stone”… and heaven knows I’m no Mary Magdalene(whore). I only share my body or myself with people I deem fit and whom I care really strongly about and I really couldn’t be bothered with what the ‘holier-than-thous’ think of this cos I suspect they’re no ‘better’ or ‘worse’!


I come on my blog and I talk about my life… my past… like the abuse I went through in the past and my daddy issues(which apparently I have a lot of). I document the journey of my mother and how much I’ve learnt from her and continue to learn. I also talk about friends that I’ve made and friends that I’ve lost. I write about lessons that I’ve learnt and mistakes that I’ve made… I talk about guys that I’ve dated in the past and the guy that I’m with now. I do all this in an attempt to grow and become a better person (and of course learn from a lot of other bloggers). I guess the topic that hackles some folks the most would be sex. WHOOP DEE DO… I TALK ABOUT AND HAVE SEX!


I find that most people who leave the ‘change thy ways whore’ or ‘the Lord condemns your actions’ comments are usually ‘anonymous’… some of them are probably bloggers ‘too chicken’ to put their ‘name’ behind their opinion. Others are ‘voyeurs’ who find pleasure in glimpsing into your life… are too quick to find fault and condemn you, all the while hiding behind their own walls. They keep their own secrets, fetishes and fantasies to themselves… to fit the norm.


Well the norm can suck a madman’s dick for all I care!


Call me silly, but I fail to understand how feeling comfortable in my sexuality which is inadvertently a part of who am… makes me a slut. I have never once on my blog or in my real life stolen my friend’s boyfriend, taken anyone’s husband, seduced anyone’s preacher, or virgin. I’m what some people might even consider a ‘sex beginner’… I’ve only been at it for almost 2 years and only had sex with 4 guys. But I’m guessing that for these ‘Saintly virgins’ and ‘perfect beings’, that’s 4 guys too much and 2 years too long.

Well they can all suck my pussy when I’m pissed!


I do not live my life based on what people say on my blog... so I don’t really understand why some people think that I’ll change who I am to suit their ‘ideal’ or ‘squeaky clean image of a Nigerian girl’.


I am not here looking to be saved by anyone… I’m here to find my way and document the steps I take. I’m a healthy 20 year old with healthy habits and a healthy lifestyle. I read like everybody else, laugh like everybody else, dance like everybody else and chances are... fuck like everybody else (whether they choose to admit it or not!)


I got really pissed reading some ‘holy holy’ comments on my last “My Sex” post. I still don’t understand why a 'so-called' moral or holy person even bothers going through my blog and reading my post when you see a post clearly titled “My Sex”… or were they looking for some bible quotations there… I’m guessing Sex is French or Greek/Latin for disciple or revelations?:

· Our resident anonymous poet ‘OverNoticeMe’ commented: “If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, it must be a slut. Oh the simile… and he/she/it rhymes too! How exciting is that… honestly, I’m almost having an orgasm contemplating this figure of speech!!! Poetic Fucker!

· Another ‘Saint’ and ‘Virgin Mary’ Ariiyike said... “Haba! Show some decency”. Now Miss Ariiyike's blog is titled “Freedomuntitled” and she calls it ‘a blog that allows me to share my thoughts on any issue.it is not dedicated to a single topic or a particular area of interest. As long as it is value based.’ So apparently she’s a pillar of moral values and quite ‘saintly’ it seems. I’m guessing the references to doggy style, cunninglingus, public sex are quite offensive seeing as she’s quite a ‘decent’ human being. I’m also guessing that Miss Ariiyike has never been kissed, fingered or fucked. She has probably never ever given a guy her number because “God’s time is the best”. I’m guessing she has 4 times a week sessions with her pastor so they can discuss when “God’s time is going to come” and she thinks that “Men come from a different planet” but somehow she will be equipped with the knowledge to deal with them ‘when she’s getting married’. Of course she won’t date… because then the guy will try to touch her and that’s “against His will and the rules of the church/pastor”. I’m also quite certain that she’s never found a guy cute or had ‘lustful thoughts’ cos those ‘are against the bylaws’… DECENCY MY NON-EXISTENT LEFT NUT!!!


· Now for the 'morally upright' ‘youth pastor’ Adeolu. He’s quite the ‘journalist’ and obviously well versed in the ways of the lord… probably even more than the above two. He starts: "Overwhelmed Naija babe, I was really scared when I read this, I didn't imagine that a human being could be so shameless. I'm sorry to be judgemental, it's okay to be aware of one's past, but I think it's better to know shame for shame, repent of past foolishness and seek Gods face. You are a Nigerian means you are my sister. We have more dignity for ourselves than this. What has sexuality and advertising turned our world into? I think your life has more value than this, else, God won't exchange your life for His son's - Jesus. What?? I don't know if your blog title adequately covers your real name, but I don't think you want your children to grow up to read this post. Repent...(turn around), those that are spared to see tomorrow and those that the divine believes there is hope will change, or be useful. I grieve."


Isn’t this about the sweetest thing you ever read in your life? “He grieves” for poor old me… “he wonders how someone could be so shameless”… he wants me to “repent” because he fears my life is one of “sexuality and advertising” and he wants me to restore “value” back in. He thinks I should start living for my future children now because they will obviously be ashamed of their mother ‘overwhelmed Naija babe’ when they are born, grow up and read my blog. Endnote: He is also of the opinion that I should become useful.


This is the most judgemental and recycled piece of crap I ever had the misfortune to read in my entire life. Where on earth does this fucker get off?

How on earth could my 'blog cover my real name'... so mr. spiritually smart thinks my parents called me 'Overwhelmed' or 'Naija Babe' or both?!... Some folks... Some folks....

Oh and I did a little research and apparently the 14th apostle Mr. Adeolu is a friend of Miss Ariiyike above. What a fun conversation they’ll have tonight about that ‘ungodly overwhelmed Naija babe. Well the both of you can shove your morality as far up your asses as is possible!


Now Mr. Adeolu let’s get one thing straight… I am not your sister… because if you were my brother… I’d give you out for adoption (with or without our parents’ consent). You think Christianity is about judging others and telling them how ‘bad’ and ‘shameless’ are?.. Even I ‘the great sinner’ know better. I believe you missed the first 4 rules of the ‘church bylaws’. You’re supposed to welcome me with both arms, sing me a hymn or two and tell me God loves me ‘just as I am’ first. But I guess you missed that part of the manual.

What exactly are you scared about? Sex? Did you also miss the reproduction lesson in Biology class because "as a 'Christian'… you’re not supposed to learn that part of biology"?


I saw your picture and you look a bit older. I’m guessing you’re still a virgin and have never looked at a girl with a ‘big booty’, masturbated, watched any kind of porn, grabbed a “sister’s tit” … if you have… that would be hypocrisy wouldn’t it… and I don’t think the ‘good book’ approves of that… right?

Oh and don't forget that in addition to that... there are tons of other laws/commandments in the Bible that you gotta follow too since you're such a stickler for 'the right thing'! Sheesh

So now just getting down and doing a little ‘doggy’ makes me less dignified? Hmmm… I guess now that you’ve cleared it up… I’m going to burn up my short skirts, break off all my heels, throw away my lipglosses, break up with my boyfriend and book an appointment with you for ‘moral cleansing’… ABSOLUTE AND TOTAL NONSENSE… Please hold your ‘moral peace’ and don’t forget to shut the door on your way out!

I guess Zee's Uncle Ogbo was right... "Churchianity is not Christianity"

These “Spiritual Snobs” kill me every single time!!!

EndNote: I’m not writing to fulfill anybody’s ideal, needs or expectations! This blog is not ‘required reading’… if you don’t like it, me or my opinions… I won’t cry… really… I won’t… move on to the next blog… I checked and there’s over 2 million registered blogs on blogspot… can’t be that hard to find a more ‘suitable one’!!!

I'll leave you with a quote: "If you go around with your nose in the air, it follows that you're going to spend your life staring at the ceiling."


Wednesday, January 10, 2007

My Sex

1.) How old were you the first time? 19

2.) Name of your first? Fucking Idiot

3.) Good or Bad? Absolutely terrible. One of the worst experiences of my life… he doggy-styled me my first time!!!


4.) Name of the worst and why? My first cos he hurt me terribly and I just couldn’t have sex with him after he fucked me like a rag doll THE VERY FIRST TIME!!! Then second is my last ex-boyfriend… while fucking… he was always going “so you like it huh, so you like it huh?... when he was feeling particularly wordy… he’d go “so you really like it huh, so you really like it huh?”… Lmao… how do you enjoy sex with that kind of noise? Plus he was way smaller than he imagined (lol… ouch!) but kept going on and on about how ‘hung’ he was!

5.) Name of the best and why? My current boyfriend cos I’ve never had someone like me so much… so in tune to my pleasure, someone so in love with me. I’ve never felt so comfortable with my body, my sexuality and it shows. We just feed off each others energy and creativity and trust me… we be doing some bedroom Olympics sometimes!

6.) Weirdest place you ever had sex? At the park… lol… and got caught! You should’ve seen the expression on the Indian lady’s face!!! Lmao… she’s probably scarred for life… but oh well!

7.) Favorite Position: I just luv luv luv doggy-style (the regular one… and another variation… the ‘elevated doggy’ … you know when he puts like a pillow under your stomach and you cock your ass up on the bed, whine on it and just GET IT!!!)

8.) Ever fake an orgasm? Nah… if I don’t like what I’m getting… he’d know it. I’ve always been quite the hedonist… all about pleasure (his and mine!) If he can’t make me cum… then he must be working with some messed up equipment cos my body is naturally full of ‘chemistry’… lol. I’ll take over the reigns (literally) if he’s not doing it the way I like…

9.) Would you admit it if the person asked? Hmmm… I’ve never faked and never plan to… I’m all about communication and body language in the bedroom… so this isn’t even an option for me. I don’t waste my time chasing ‘pipe dreams’!

10.) Favorite time of day to have sex? Ohhhh my gosh… ‘Waking-up-to-sex is the new BLACK!!!’ (the stories I could tell… hehe)

11.) Most times you have had sex in one day? lol… maybe 5 times… the boyfriend came over after not having seen each other for two weeks(once on the bed, once in front of the mirror, once in the shower, once standing up, once… honestly I just lost count throughout that day… but trust me I’d never been ‘so sexed’!!!


12.) Same person? (is there an alternative?) Lol… of course!

13.) Ever fantasize about someone other than the one you’re with? I ‘displaced’ myself having sex with the two ex’s that I talked about in question 4… I never really fantasize about other people when I’m having sex with someone… I’m either in it or I’m not.


14.) Restrictions during sex? That’s a story for another post.


15.) Accessories? Never tried any… so I don’t even know

16.) What? Okkkk… silk scarves and some ice.

17.) Done it in the rain? The shower count?


18.) Done it in a car? Nah… but done other things… I got eaten out in a car by a Jamaican… oh my gosh the ecstasy!!! On another occasion, me and my Ghanaian 'second fuck' drove around in a car late at night naked just for thrills… lol… I know… I have issues! Thank God the cops didn’t find me! but one Indian man and his son will never be the same again… lmao… you should’ve seen the look in their eyes… (it just occurred to me that Indian people always catch me doing ‘naughty’... lol)

19.) Had a Threesome? No…. not interested


20.) Want to have sex now? Lol... what do you think?


(Everyone on my blogroll is hereby tagged… I’m interested in seeing who actually does it)

Monday, January 08, 2007

An Ordinary Day

Life’s catastrophies happen on ordinary days just like today
Days without major bomb threats, terrorist attacks and war announcements
Just ordinary days


Days without earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes or other natural disasters
Just ordinary days

Days with no special headlines, no special sunsets, no special signs from above…
Just ordinary days


He used to creep into my room on ordinary days just like this

I still had Kelloggs cereal for breakfast
I still sang to Celine Dion in the afternoon
I still ate fried rice for dinner

Yes, it was an ordinary day just like this

Lying half asleep, 14 and innocent, he taps me:
“Overwhelmed are you awake?”

I turn towards the wall keeping my eyes shut tight and my body rigid… showing no sign of life

He comes even closer and my heart starts beating really fast… I hope he can’t hear it

I begin to shut off, to lock away my emotions, to close off my senses… to hide my pride and empty my mind.

He keeps tapping me… I respond because if I resist a moment longer, he’ll know I’m faking sleep

But If I stay in the room, she might wake up and see him… then maybe he’d stop… but then she’d be tainted forever
I follow him out

He tells me to sit down on his bed
I do and a second later I feel his weight push down on the mattress
Even though I know it is useless I hold the blankets closer…

He strokes my cheeks and then leans over to kiss me
NO!!!
He could do whatever with my body cos I could pretend but never would he kiss my lips… never would I let him taste my joy, my pain, my laughter, my hurt… MY LIFE!!


I smell the Guiness on his breath
He’s not drunk though… sometimes I really wish he was cos then I could excuse this atrocity… I could say that he doesn’t know what he’s doing… and blame the liquor… that maybe he didn’t remember what he did the next day
BUT HE KNEW… AND WORSE STILL HE REMEMBERED… THAT’S WHY HE DID IT ALMOST EVERY NIGHT

He keeps touching me
“Don’t turn away from me, please help me out Overwhelmed.”

My heart hardens as I look into his face… I can’t bear the lust in his eyes, so I watch his hands instead.
I watch as his hands rub me, grab me and touch me on an ordinary day just like this

I beg him to stop… try to make him see reason but he can’t… he’s such a poor soul… so tormented cos he finds pleasure in the body of his family.
He promises he won’t put it in… he’ll just rub himself around and he’ll be alright.
He pleads for my understanding and forgiveness even as he does stuff that I almost can't remember.
I still have clothes on but I feel as though he’s seen into the deep recesses of my soul.

He’s tainted me with his exploration… but still I let him
He doesn’t understand why he does what he does
He tells me he wishes I was not family… he’d want to be with me forever… he loves me
But couldn’t he see that I now hated me? I hated myself for allowing the ugliness that happened in the same room almost every night that had that blighted my very soul.

Uncle mine… you made sexual advances on an ordinary day just like today!
You took the song out of my mouth, the words out of my pen, the light out of my eyes on an ordinary day just like today!

I try to escape my memories…
Sometimes I’m successful and other times I’m not
Some days my anger comes in explosive spurts and on other days it’s a slow flame that builds into a bonfire.
Some days I’m sad and others I’m not
Sometimes I smile cos all seems forgotten and other days I hang my head in shame
There are moments when I feel guilty and there are moments when I feel nothing at all


All these things happen on an ordinary day just like this