Our Breakup

After not calling me for 5 days, Kimor called me on Monday night.

Kimor: Hey Overwhelmed. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been going through a lot lately. I think we should take a break and just not be together anymore

Silence

Silence

Silence

Overwhelmed: Kimor…. I left you a message on Thursday night telling you my mom had been rushed to the emergency. How come you didn’t call me back?

Kimor: What does that have to do with anything?
Overwhelmed: What?

Kimor: It has nothing to do with anything. I mean if I was rushed to the emergency, would your mom care?

Overwhelmed: What?!?!?! Did you just say what I thought I heard you say?

Kimor: Yeah

Overwhelmed: Kimor… you actually opened your mouth and told me that? Me overwhelmed? About my mother?

Kimor: Yeah

I hung up

And called him back in the same instant

Overwhelmed: Just to make sure that I’m not dreaming this Kimor… Did I ask you how come you didn’t call me to at least check if my mom or myself was ok after she was rushed to the emergency. We’ve been together for 9 months and you asked me if my mom would care if you were rushed to the emergency?

Kimor: Yeah… anything else?

Overwhelmed: I won’t forgive you for this

Kimor: That’s what I’m trying to show you… doesn’t matter

Overwhelmed: Ok Kimor… have a great life

... the ‘dream’ is over.

I’ve never before felt such a strong need to hurt someone in my life as I do now. I couldn’t believe it then… and a few days after… I still can’t believe it. This is Kimor afterall. He said he loved me even in our last real conversation. Is this how others love? Only in good times? In such a callous way? When things aren’t the way they want… you don’t matter anymore? I mean even if we were just friends… he couldn’t show the most basic concern… just ask me if she was alright… if I was coping? I’m more pissed off at this point than anything else… when things like this happen you start to doubt a lot of stuff. You feel like you know a person… something of the heart that beats inside them. You trust that the laughs and the truths and the talks would open them up to you as a person… make them understand you… that they'd be there for you when you need them… cos you know you’d be there for them no matter what but I guess it’s too much to ask.

I’ve been around friends since the breakup… they’ve all had so many encouraging things to say and haven’t even given me the chance to see if I miss him… I’m up to my neck in outings and fun events. I’m still processing this but I’m surprised that I’m not devastated you know… I haven’t cried… maybe it still hasn’t hit me… but I don’t think that’s what it is… The words he said in the end have almost cancelled every good thing he might’ve been in the past. Love isn’t about eating my ***** and telling me I’m beautiful. Love is about being able to put aside your ego and stand beside that person in crucial times… love is letting someone know they have a friend no matter how bad things get. Love is good times and bad times and the inbetween. It is the ‘But I love you’ that comes right after “You’re working my last nerve”.

Maybe I'm naïve…

The Beginning of the End

‘Ah love! Could thou and I with fate conspire
To grasp this sorry scheme of things entire
Would not we shatter it to bits- and then
Re- mould it nearer to the hearts desire’
………………………… The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam verse 73

Kimor slept over at my house on Friday night (the Friday before the past one). Everything was great… we ordered some Chinese, took turns feeding each other and listened to Kt Tunstall. We talked on Saturday and Sunday and a bit on Monday.

On Tuesday, he called me in the evening to chat, but I told him I wasn’t really in the mood because I’d been up the night before talking to an old-time friend for over 4 hours so my mouth was ‘tired’. I would listen to anything he had to say though. After a few minutes chatting about nothing in particular…

Kimor: I don’t know Overwhelmed… I feel like these days we don’t talk as much… and it’s beginning to bug me
{Note: It’d only been a day}

Overwhelmed: What are you talking about... we talk all the time… I’m just not in the mood today…

Kimor: I know that… but I don’t think things are exactly the same between us as they used to be…

Overwhelmed: Seriously Kimor why is it that everytime we don’t talk for a day or two you analyse the situation to death. You worry about it until it becomes a big problem in your head. We haven’t talked in a day and all of a sudden our relationship is in trouble?

Kimor: I don’t really know… I haven’t thought it through… but I know that things are changing a little bit… and part of it is that I think I love you more than you do me… and I’m more invested in us than you are
{Get over it already}

Overwhelmed: I have no clue what you’re talking about… I don’t see what emotion you’re showing in this relationship that I’m not… this argument is tired

Kimor: That’s not really what I’m trying to say. For example with my ex-girlfriends… when they said they loved me, I saw it more… in everything that they did and in the way they were… they paid more attention

Overwhelmed: Kimor I do what I can to make sure we talk and spend enough time together… but I couldn’t give up everything that I am just to prove how much I love you. I am not those girls…

Kimor: I know that… and that’s part of why I fell in love with you and why we’ve been together this long… but sometimes I resent it as well

Overwhelmed: I do pay attention

Kimor: I guess it’s something about the amount of attention… like in the past, my ex- girlfriends...

Overwhelmed: you know what Kimor… if you want to go and be with your ex- girlfriends why don’t you just let me know… or if there’s someone else you think would pay you more attention and be better for you go for it. Lord knows that I love you and it would hurt like hell but I simply can’t spend most of my time explaining and defending our relationship. I swear if I wanted to break up with you right now and not give you the real reason… I know exactly what to do… not talk to you for a day or two… and agree with you when you start going on about how ‘things are changing’. The bottom line is that you either want to be with me or you don’t. You wanna break up?

Kimor: No

Overwhelmed: How do you feel about me?

Kimor: I love you

Overwhelmed: then why do you make it so hard sometimes? Why can’t we just enjoy what we have? If a time ever came when we caused each other more pain than happiness… then we can end this relationship… in the meantime why can’t we just be Kimor? Do we have to analyze every silence?

Kimor: No. I realize there are some things I need to think through… but anyways I’ll call you back in 30 minutes

Overwhelmed: Alright

He didn’t call me back… apparently he’d fallen asleep. I called him about 4 hours later, right before I went to bed. I remember telling him to come and see me the next day (Wednesday) so we could talk things over and spend some time together. He said he’d let me know if he could.

He called me on Wednesday afternoon to say he couldn’t make it to my place. It was his cousin’s birthday and they were going to the strip- club. He had asked me before if I wanted to come but I decided not to cos I had planned to go shopping for my Saturday wedding outfit. He was a bit off(rude?) when we talked then… not the Kimor I was used to…

But I let it slide

I called him later on during the day to discuss the outfit I was about to buy. The conversation was ok… but he wasn’t really any help so I told him I’d call him back after talking to one of my girls.

I called him 3 hours later and he didn’t pick up.

“Kimor, you’re pissing me off. Anyways, call me when you get this message”

He didn’t call me back that Wednesday… or on Thursday…

I found out my mom was in the emergency on Thursday night about 10pm. He was the next person I called right after my younger sister. Once again, he didn’t pick up. I left him a message:

“Kimor, I think you’ve been acting a bit off… you didn’t return my call yesterday… guess you’re too busy doing you. Anyways, I just heard my mom was admitted into the emergency... I'm not really sure what's wrong. I’m on my way over there now”

He didn’t call me back that Thursday night…

I didn’t hear from him… for 5 days
I decided not to call again… it wasn’t a matter of pride… I did call him for two days in a row and he didn't return my calls… I had done absolutely nothing to him. I mean even if he was trying to ‘figure things out’… I’d been with him for over 9 months… shared my love, my life with him and had called to tell him my mom was in the hospital... couldn’t he even call to ask me if she was alright?
{He knows more than most how much my mom means to me}

Bloggers who only read me showed more concern than a man who said he ‘loved’ me…

I had left him to his ‘thoughts’ and he didn’t call me for 5 days until Monday night… the day of “Our Breakup”

The 'dream' is over

Kimor broke up with me

Last Night

I spoke to my mommy on wednesday night... apparently she hadn't gone to work during the day because she hadn't been feeling well... but she said she'd be fine... nothing a little advil and benylin couldn't take care of... minor cough, fever, headache

I was at my friend's house braiding my hair on thursday night and checked my voicemail at night... apparently she'd been rushed into the emergency ward a few hours after we'd spoken... she only left me that message because she didn't want me to worry... she just wanted me to know where she was in case i tried to reach her

I rushed over to the hospital immediately... i was so scared... crying because i'd been trying to reach my mommy on her cellphone and i couldn't.

The emergency ward conjured up so many horrible images... which I won't even write out... cos then they seem even more real.

I waited and waited in the registration area, sanitized my hands like they asked me to... saw other people in various states of 'emergencies' before I could see my mommy... and my panic grew... some friends did call me to tell me she'd be ok...

They ushered me into emergency room 1 to see her... Immediately i saw her lying on the bed with so many drips and stuff inserted in her... i started crying... she woke up instantly and i ran and hugged her... and we both cried

She told me i shouldn't have come all the way down since i live quite far from there... even if i was in another province... i'd come out... this is my mommy... my heart... i couldn't stop crying... we'd talked the night before and she was alright... but now she was in an ugly hospital gown, her face was bloated, the place smelt of so many different drugs... she had so many bandages on her from blood that they'd taken and drips that they'd put in... my first time in an emergency ward... to see my mom no less...

I calmed down after a while... when I realized she wasn't *****. She felt a lot better... an ambulance had brought her in because she'd called them in horrible pain... she'd been lying on her bed trying to sleep... and couldn't... when a sharp piercing pain started in her lower belly. Apparently she couldn't even stand up... and was rolling on the floor screaming... till she called them...

They'd run ultrasounds, mcats and various other tests on my mommy while i was busy braiding my hair... something about a cyst... a ruptured blood vessel... she had internal bleeding...

There were two options... surgery to 'correct' it or she was to 'leave be' and with time it would heal. My mommy has had two ceasarian operations and one fibroid surgery as well... the doctor even joked that her stomach was like a railway track... she opted not to have surgery.

She was feeling 70% better by the time I got there... there was no searing pain in her lower abdomen... but she still felt it a little... walking was a little hard for her... she was weak... but they said she'd be fine.

They transferred her out of emergency to a ward because the doctor wanted to monitor her progress over the night... they said they'd probably release her this morning... I wasn't allowed to sleep there... in the chair by my mommy... 'hospital rules'. So I stayed the longest I could there, and then went to sleep at my family home. I'm to call around 10am and see whats going on... if she's better, they'll discharge her.

I really hope she is.

Update: She came home today... she's feeling much better... a little weak but nothing that some prescription, a little rest and a lot of prayers won't take care of. Thanks for all your kind thoughts and well wishes. I'm so happy...

I’ve Been A Real Bad Girl

SPANK ME PLEASE!!!

For the past few weeks, I’ve been somewhat obsessed with the idea of being spanked.

In the past, I think my ex-boyfriend did it a time or two… but it just always felt like something he was trying to recreate from a ‘Marcus porn movie’.

The current boyfriend Kimor is a little better in that department

I mean every once in a ‘doggy’ while, he’d slap my ass a little…

Hmmmm (lol… I do more of those than oohhhhs and ahhhhhs)

Then he’d stop

Arghhhh

Another time he did it once… and again… and again…

This definitely got an ahhhhh

Homeboy was sending shockwaves through my pussy

Ohhhh… spanking vibrations

THEN HE STOPPED!!!

I still came but I wanted that double sweet pain… I would’ve soared way higher

Later on I told him… I told him a couple of times actually that I was really getting into the whole spanking thing… that I love it!

The next time he was at it with some half- assed spanking, so after we were lying down drenched from our last ‘scissor twister’, I was like “Baby, you do realize I’m not delicate right?”

He laughed

After all the unholy beatings I received in Nigeria from my dad and school teachers, I never thought I’d see the day when it’d excite me so to have a grown man slap and tap my 'batty' at the same time. I don’t really have words to explain the exact reason why I love that initial sting and consequent ‘heat’

I’m just wondering what I gotta do to make Kimor take my ‘spanking desires’ seriously

Cos on the real…

I’m not really down with that ‘love taps’ stuff

I want him to smack my ass like it owes him 6 months rent

I want slaps that reverberate in my pussy… I wanna hear my ass sing hosanna in Igbo.

I want ‘slap energy’ bouncing all my coochie walls… coochie’s gotta run a fever

Kimor, you don’t know it yet but by the time I put one or two things in motion, you are going to finally spank me the way I want to be spanked.

I’m thinking ice and a leather whip

Next thing I’ll be getting into handcuffs and blindfolds

…………I’m really far gone… aren’t I? lol

Life in a song 3

I can love you like that by All-4-One brings to mind my first ‘chewing gum’ boyfriend Raul D. It reminds me of puppy love and naïve infatuation… of honest romance and heart-felt friendship… of roses and ribena … of short skirts and sloppy first kisses.

It reminds me of holding hands and checking to see if other people noticed… of ‘branching’ at his house on my way to the market… of wanting to tell the whole world he loved me… but still keep him to myself.

‘I can love you like that’ was the song he sang so beautifully in his rich baritone that I could almost face the fear and hatred at home… thinking of him created a safe place, a shelter… ‘my haven’. In this time, I was proud to be “Raul’s girl”… I was shy if he saw me eat… when we took pictures together, I’d be too shy to actually look at them… it was so difficult for me to stare into his eyes…

The song reminds me of the time when Raul was suspended for a month for fighting and I still didn’t leave him even though Lekan and Brian tried everything possible to make me do just that. It reminds me of the times I was reluctant to meet his mother cos she’d just know immediately that I adored her son… the times I touched his face just to see how someone this beautiful inside and out could be that into me…

This song reminds me of the purest relationship I was ever in… it was beautiful and sweet and innocent… it was my sanctity… my sanity.

'I can love you like that’ reminds me of the time I burnt my skirt on purpose so I could cut it short and Jimmy could see my beautiful legs. It reminds me of the numerous times I took money from my dad for non-existent lab projects and spent the money and time transporting to see Jimmy… to have him sing to me and hold me tight. It takes me back to a time when I dressed for Jimmy… I didn’t want him to see me in the rags my father bought… so I spent some of the ‘lab’ money on short skirts and changed under our stairs before I went out… and changed back into the rags when I got home. The song reminds me of my ‘near-heart-attack’ when my fathers car drove past me one Saturday on my way from Jimmy’s house in my navy blue mini-skirt.

I loved that he felt jealous anytime I danced with any other guy at our end of the year parties… I also knew what to say to make him smile.

‘I can love you like that’ reminds me of the warmth of the smile of a guy who likes you without boundaries…

{I'm sorry if you tried to leave a comment yesterday and couldn't... i mistakenly put in a dont allow comments thingy... but it's been fixed now}

Happy Birthday to my sweet tangerine Naijadude

My Jolene… knowing you has been a joy. I cherish our friendship and everything that you are.

I call you some days at 3am when I have to get stuff off my chest knowing that no matter when, you will gladly pick up and help me ‘deal’.

In unguarded moments, one finds out what peoples true opinions are. Time and time again, you have shown me your great heart… your compassion… your genuinity… your love.

You’re such a beautiful person inside and out… it’s always fun rocking the town and partying it up with you… my only concern is that you never start whining and grinding better than me sha… lol.

Happy 22^nd Birthday to my Overwhelmed Naija Bobo…

I only hope I’ve been as good a friend to you as you’ve been to me…

I love you

Your Jolene Forever

Overwhelmed Naija Babe

Aunty H

Ordinarily I wouldn’t write this seeing as I never really knew Aunty H when she was healthy, but my mom told me something yesterday that was so heartbreaking I cried.

You see Aunty H died about 2 years ago of lung cancer. She was one of my mom’s closest friends and business associates.

I never knew her healthy because she started her long and drawn out battle with cancer a few months after we arrived in Canada. Thank God she had her family to support her throughout the ordeal. I never saw a man love a woman as much as Aunty H’s husband did her. Uncle B not only satisfied all her needs… he anticipated them. It was so hard seeing him try to remain strong even as her condition deteriorated week after week and the life slowly ebbed out of her.

My mom cried every time she went to visit.

Aunty H’s spirit was so strong… I mean she lost almost 60 pounds but still believed she’d get better. She couldn’t even breathe on her own and was plugged into an oxygen machine but never gave up hope.

She had two children Lisa and James. James is a big hockey fanatic, so as long as there is ice and a hockey puck, he’s happy. Lisa’s about my age. When her mom was alive, they used to argue all the time cos Lisa was into clothes and boys and more clothes and more boys. Lisa is a daddy’s girl so the only reprimands she ever got were from her very strong willed no-nonsense Jamaican mother.

What made me cry last night was when my mom told me about Aunty H’s burial. Apparently, Lisa had been in shock. She never made a sound but tears kept streaming down her face. She couldn’t believe her mom was dead… her strong willed mother… her no-nonsense mother…

She wouldn’t let them take Aunty H away… she kept putting makeup on her mother. First she’d put on lipgloss, then she’d wipe it off and put on lipstick. Then she’d put on eyeshadow, then eyeliner… then clean it all off and put on mascara. Then she’d put blush on her Aunty H… She wanted her mom to look pretty…

All the while tears were streaming down Lisa’s face

………………….. and mine as my mom told me the heart-wrenching story

RIP Aunty H… I hope you’re in a better place.

Celebration Time

Put on your dancing shoes, pour yourself a glass of champagne and toast the person next to you… celebrate with me… this is my 100^th post on blogspot!!!

I started this blog in August 2006 because I had so much to talk about, so much past experiences and current emotions to sort out. Today March 13, 2007 I still have a lot to say… but I’m already on my way… 100 posts on my way.

I wanted to send a shout-out to Naijadude and DisillusionedNaijaGirl… both of you inspired me to start blogging. Another shout-out goes to AfricanPrincess… you were the first person to comment on my blog.

During this journey I’ve learnt more about myself as a person and the world around me. I’ve become part of a little ‘dysfunctional’ blog family… I now have cyber sisters, blog brothers, friends… and I really appreciate each and every one of you.

We’ve laughed, smiled, cried together and I’ve never felt the need to be anything other than what I am…

I appreciate every comment left on my blog, every suggestion, every word of encouragement, every piece of advice… (well except for the holy rollers and ‘recent anonymous liars’… but this is a happy post so we won’t get into all that…)

Some of my favorite write-ups are:

• Nigerian guys I’ve dated or almost dated parts 1, 2 and 3.
• To my Favorite Soccer Player
• The deceit that led me back to Biafra
• Torn
• Life is good
• Dedication to the first guy who ate me out (Azuka, Delot and Olawunmi’s favourite post…lol)

It’s been quite emotional writing my Mummy Sundays:

I’ve written 13 so far. The links are on the sidebar of my blog

I’ve also been trying to deal with my daddy issues:

• You took me to the gynecologist when I was 8 parts a and b
• Rejected from Birth
• No longer your little genius

As well as the uncle:

• I hate the night
• Ordinary Day

Documenting my journey with my boyfriend Kimor:

• I met a boy
• Butterflies
• Being friends with the man of your dreams
• To be loved
• When we almost broke up… Part 2: What a weekend
• Control freak
• I hope he didn’t hear me
• My secret’s out in the universe

And most recently… I love writing my ‘Life in a Song’ posts

If the glass of champagne wasn’t enough to get you boozed up, feel free to have a drink at your local bar or grocery store (if you’re into fruity shit) on me… Olawunmi, Laspapi, Soul and Vera will pick up the tab later… lol.

Here’s to a hundred more posts… Cheers blog family

Life in a song 2

“Holla Holla by Jah Rule” reminds me of a time of slight happiness in my last year of secondary school in Nigeria. It was so popular at the time and every guy in school knew the lyrics. It was somewhat amusing when they started trying to ‘holla’ at us…

The time of “Holla”

Then I was one of the girls in school that a lot of guys wanted to be with… my classmates, my math and chemistry teachers.

I was the tall girl with the beautiful skin, cute smile and sad eyes… I guess in their own way, they all wanted to wipe away the sadness

Holla reminds me of the time when I was the only girl at the back of the class with all the ‘cool guys’... they sang and rapped and tried everything to take me from Jimmy.

Actually before Raul transferred to my school, his brother Ricardo liked me something terrible… he was a very handsome, rich kid and did just about everything to gain my attention. Almost every girl in my school liked Ricardo… and some of them were beautiful, worldly, rich girls with skin like buttermilk, summers in London, homes with swimming pools… but Raul wanted me. He sent a number of his friends to come and ‘holla’ at me … he actually made up a song that he sang(rapped?) every single time I walked past him be it 2 times or 12 times during the day… he made me smile… and started to grow on me. I don’t remember actually saying a word to him… he just liked me… I knew he liked me… and he knew that I knew he liked me… and for that time, it was enough. Then he transferred out of my school… before we had a chance to actually talk…

Then a few months later, his brother Raul transferred into my school… and a few weeks in began his campaign to date me. He wrote me poems, sent his friends to talk to me… did it himself a couple of times… was heartbroken when I told him I could not date him… he didn’t understand that I couldn’t invest the emotion and time for reasons I didn’t want to explain(my home situation). He never gave up… and after a while I just gave in… he was the second cutest guy in my entire school… just a beautiful beautiful soul.

A lot of girls didn’t like that he was with me… but never actually said anything… probably because back then I was in another world…my own world. In spite of the fun times at school, I was always conscious that I was going back home at the end of the school day to drudgery and misery. I wasn’t affected by their concerns… I didn’t know much affection then, and found pleasure in simple things. I didn’t need the expensive gifts and the cards and restaurants and concerts… all I needed was for him to smile and hug me… and all was right with my world. Besides, I wasn’t allowed to go to those places and see those things even if I wanted to. He was fascinated by me… as I was by him.

I was amazed that he wanted to date me when there were girls who would give him any and everything he wanted… I mean all we ever did was talk… and sometimes kiss and cuddle… except for the one day he touched my breast lightly through my shirt, we never went any further.

Holla reminds me of Nnamdi… the very brash guy in my class who always acted the part of ‘native doctor’ in every school play. It reminds me of Nita who slept with all the big boys in our area… of Chioma, Ann and ‘sexy rat’… the ‘happening’ girls in school… who wore 3 inch stilettos to Saturday lessons when the rest of us were in ‘kito sandals’.

Holla reminds me of Raul’s corrupt younger sister Risa and the times we all stayed in class and made up new dances to hit songs. I wish I could see Raul again just to thank him for being there for me at a time when I really needed someone… the 8 or 9 months we had together were bliss!

HOLLA!!!

Mummy Sunday 13

Inspired by one of my favorite bloggers LondonBuki, this is my thirteenth Mummy Sunday post and the fourth installment of the “When You Weren’t There Mummy” series!!! I dedicate this to my Aunt Obianuju… you gave Fire and I a home when we really needed one.

Resettling

Dear Mummy,

After the attempt to escape from Ngwa Road failed, our father moved us to a different part of Aba. This time, he left us with his second oldest sister Aunty Obianuju. Aunty Obianuju was a midwife with three kids- 12 year old Lillian, 10 year old Britney and 5 year old Adam. I was 9 years old and Fire was 7. Aunty Obianuju’s husband was a chemist and part- time trader in the North. He only came back East to visit his family about twice a year. Aunty Obianuju had 2 bedrooms, 1 living room and shared a kitchen with numerous other tenants in a very huge 3 storey building on Hospital Road. For the life of me, I can’t quite remember the bathroom. She had her midwife clinic on the premises, so she had a lot of nurses and helpers around all the time.

In our room, there were two beds. One was shared by Aunty Obianuju’s husband’s younger sister Patricia and the house-help Chichi. The other bed- the childrens bed- was a king size bed shared by Lillian, Britney, Adam, Fire and myself. We probably would’ve had a better time on that bed if we didn’t have to constantly deal with Adam’s bedwetting problem. Lillian was an expert ‘quantity surveyor’ back then… she was able to calculate tangents and slopes and create obtuse angles that enabled the 5 of us to sleep on that bed without smothering each other.

Initially I felt myself far above our surroundings…

I mean suffer as much as we had in the past… neither of us had ever had to share a small bedroom with 7 other people…

We’d never had to leave the room at set times of the day because aunties needed some ‘private time’.

We’d never been in an environment where everybody in the compound came out to scream and shout everytime an airplane passed by.

We’d never been in an environment where we were taken places and made to speak English in order to intimidate and/or impress other people

We’d never slept on a bed with a nylon protective covering so someone’s midnight pee could be ‘run off’ and cleaned without denting the actual mattress

We’d never had to put mats on the floor to sleep sometimes because we just couldn’t take the sweaty cramp of the bed any longer

…………… But we got used to it after staying at the Okonkwo family house for a few weeks.

With time, we actually began to cherish the sense of family we experienced there.

We learnt to be grateful for the smaller portions of beans we ate on a regular basis

We learnt to eat fast when it was family garri and soup time… cos we knew we’d starve till the next meal if we didn’t eat at the same rate as everybody else.

The ‘Yard’ also started to become some fun after a little while

We cherished the fact that we could go out and play with other kids

It was fun watching the dance steps they made up for every new song

It became fun to go to the clinic and check out the newborns… especially when they were twins or in rare cases…a triplet (actually I missed that miracle cos I was away at school at the time… I’ll tell you about that later)

We started looking forward to helping our neighbour ‘Brother Uche’ get groceries because of the little money he gave us… which we later used to buy 10 Naira Ugba that came in little ‘polythene’ bags

It became fun to watch the weekly or bi-weekly ‘pot wash’ to see who could scrub the back of their pots the cleanest with wood ash… I never participated in that either but I loved watching particularly because my cousin Lillian usually won.

It became fun to take ‘communal showers’

We had a great time watching Nigerian movies at Aunty Ekene’s house and trying to stop her 3 year old son from trying to look under our skirts.

It was also interesting watching Odinaka’s mom pop out kid after kid especially in light of the fact that we hardly ever saw her husband.

I remember our joy when it rained because we could put out buckets and collect the rainfall and not have to fetch water for the next day or so…

I remember the local shoemaker in the area who tried to lure all the little girls in the area with candy and chocolate and promises of ‘free shoe shines and repairs’

I never went there alone… THE NASTY PERV!!! I was the same age as his youngest daughter… and her friend at that!!!

Sometimes I cried because I was 9 and all I wanted was my own home… I didn’t want to move anymore. Also, Lillian oppressed me sometimes… she said little things that hurt or she’d stop talking to me for a while for no apparent reason… sometimes I didn’t like her very much… she kind of scared me… cos she was usually nice for a while… and would suddenly flip and hate on me for things I didn’t understand. I absolutely adored Britney… she stood up to Lillian for me a lot… and we had a friendship that was outside of our familial relationship. I never really formed a relationship with their brother Adam- he was quite spoilt and spent most of his time playing football, eating sweets and crying. He was a beautiful boy though and we were cousins… so we lived like that.

The bond between Fire and myself started to change a little because she started to fit in a little more in the house on Hospital Road…she was lively and a bit younger so she wasn’t as affected by all the moving and mood swings. She was oblivious to tensions except when it concerned me. She understood me like nobody else could… she’d just come by and give me a hug when she saw me staring into space… she’d cry when I cried even if I didn’t say why… she tried to stand up to Lillian for me because she knew I’d never say a word about any ill-treatment… I’d learnt how to shut off that part of myself and keep my thoughts from anybody except Fire. The only thing is that she was becoming like the people on Hospital road… to her it had become home. For me on the other hand, it was just a good place until the next move… I didn’t want to become too attached cos I knew it wouldn’t last for too long… it never did.

I never did feel completely at home there, but I did grow to love the house on Hospital rd., because in it, Fire and I felt more welcome than we had in all the others.

Aunty Obianuju loved us with all her heart… and it showed.

Our father never came to visit us in the first few months, and once again, we got used to life without him.

Lord Save Me

Lord save me from the hands of psychotic people who only read my blog but claim to know me more than I know myself
Lord save me from those who sit behind a computer and try to construct a different reality for me even though they have never met me or spoken to me in their entire lives
Lord save me from those who mock my life and every painful thing I've ever been through
Lord save me from those who seek cheap thrills here... from the poison and venom in their minds and words
Lord save me from people who come to discourage the progress I've been making in my life through this blog.
Lord save me from people in the throes of desperate madness and attention-craving.
Thanks heavens for comment moderation and the end of their '15 minutes of fame on my blog'
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!!!

Life in a song

I was listening to the radio last night and a young man called in. He told the radio host about a girl he loved with all his heart and had spent the past 4 years trying to tell. He watched her get dumped time and time again and kept begging her for a chance just to show her how good she made him feel inside. He wanted to make her smile… to make her happy… but she wouldn’t let him.

The radio host played him a song called “I can’t make you love me” by Bonnie Rait. The lyrics of the song made me cry… they were so beautiful and expressed the pain of unrequited love… something most of us have been through once or twice in our lives…

Listening to that song made me realize that at every given point in my life… the good and the bad… there’s always been a song or two that captures what I feel… or my mood. Sometimes the songs don’t have much to do with what I’m feeling… but I just happened to listen to it a lot when I was going through a particular experience… so for that reason… anytime I hear it… it reminds me of a time, place or person… and some songs just elicit a very strong emotional response.

“At seventeen by Janis Ian”… I heard this song for the first time last week and I’ve cried every single time I play it… I want to stop listening cos it hurts… but I can’t seem to stop myself… it’s on instant replay.



Ms. Ian sings the lyrics of a certain part of my life: “I knew the truth at seventeen that love was meant for beauty queens and high school girls with clear skin smiles… and those of us with ravaged faces lacking in the social graces desperately remained at home… remember those who win the game loose the love they sought to gain… to those of us who numb the pain… and those whose names were never called when choosing sides for basketball… and dreams were all they gave for free to ugly duckling girls like me… ”

I never thought myself ugly but I never thought myself particularly beautiful either. It was never really about my physical features… I didn’t really have any eyebrows, maybe my nose was a bit wide as my face was round… but I guess I had a nice/pleasant enough face, I didn’t have a big butt to speak of… or a flat tummy… and didn’t particularly love my big hands or feet but I had a passable body. None of that particularly pleased or bothered me… none of it was a compliment or insult to me… it was how my creator had seen fit to make me. The part that bothered me was the inside… I felt horribly ugly inside. I always felt not good enough… I mean I strived to be the best at the things I did but I still never felt good enough. I felt worthless… as though no matter what I did… I’d only amount to so much… that my fate was predetermined… was cursed… limited…

I felt like a fraud everytime someone called me pretty or beautiful because that wasn’t how I felt… I felt dead inside… and I knew after a little while they’d be able to see it too… they’d look into my eyes and know the outside was a farce… I was a mess, I was scared, I was angry, I was hurt, I was numb…

Perhaps my face wasn’t ravaged but I felt ravaged deep within and I knew that was worse… a pain that I haven’t completely lost… I laughed and joked and danced with them but a part of me was always outside looking in cos that wasn’t my life… my life was that of fear when love came in slaps and whips… there was nothing to numb the pain… I kept it all inside and it ate at me every single day…

I tried to reject every good thing that came my way because I almost felt I didn’t deserve it… I wanted to hurt them before they hurt me cos I knew that was what people did… they hurt you… they left you… they moved you… they destroyed you…

‘…and dreams were all they gave for free to ugly duckling girls just like me’…

Kimor

I’ve lost count the number of times I picked up my phone to call you and remembered you were away

I have so much to tell you…

Have fun over there but get back soon

Come home

I miss you baby

Phantom From My Past

My friend Irish Cream is having a little birthday get-together tomorrow. She’s new to Tacoma University and hasn’t made many friends there or outside come to think of it. I don’t go to her school but I know tons of people there. I’m that friend who invites my friends to make your party popping… so I’d taken it upon myself to do just that.

I was calling my friend Kumasi to invite him to the get-together, but it was the Jehovah Witness that picked up… My Jehovah Witness.

My Jehovah Witness asked me how I was… and told me he missed me… that it’d been almost 2 years since we’d last spoken but he still thought about me sometimes… that he’d wanted to call me but the last few times he’d gotten in contact with me… I’d been so cold… I told him I’d been hurting… He knew… he understood… he’d been hurting too… he wished things didn’t end the way they did… he really missed me… he wanted to see me…

I told him to be serious and he told me he missed the feel of my lips. I never replied him but my heart skipped a beat. He was never a beautiful man… or really my type… but there was something about him… he’d made me feel warm inside… I never thought I’d like a guy as much as I had liked him until the boyfriend came along…

For some reason I invited him to Irish Cream’s get-together… a part of me wants to see him… I want to see if my heart will still beat the same way… if I’ll still smile when someone calls his name…

I don’t know…

A part of me wishes I didn’t speak to him at all… and a part of me wishes I’d spoken to him for longer

He asked if my boyfriend was going to be there. I asked him how he'd found out about the boyfriend. I know he knows… and he knows I know that he knows… but we didn’t really talk about Kimor. I told him he wasn’t going to be there. He said good. I asked him why… he said he only wanted to see me.

Why didn’t I get mad when he said that?

He made me smile when he told me he still had my number… it’s been 2 years…

I know this won’t go anywhere… I’ll never go back to him…or the way we used to be… I won’t leave the haven I’ve created with Kimor for a ‘flight of fancy’… but just hearing his voice tonight took me back…

It took me back to times when I could just talk to him for an hour and all was right with my world.Times when we only kissed and our souls were sated… Times when we were able to affect each others moods… each others days. Times when he wouldn’t come to a party if I wasn’t going to be there… Times when we never said a word but everybody knew there was something between the both of us… Our time.

I’m already thinking about what I’ll wear tonight

Hi5 Messages

I’ve been feeling a little down and disillusioned lately. In the meantime, a week or two ago, LondonBuki had a post about some of her weird(er) hi5 messages, so I decided to let you read couple that I got in the past that had me rolling with laughter or just going wtf:

1. how are you doing. Your face looks pretty much familiar. I think we've somewhere b4, i forgot. anyways, i just wanna make friends, lets start by introducing ourselves. I live in ***. i'm in college. i wud love to know more things about you too, if u dont mind. Holla back when u get this

(The often used “You look familiar” … lol… that brings to mind a Nigerian party I went to last year. A strange guy came up to me with the same line “Hey girl… you look familiar”… I laughed for a moment and said… “Nah sweetie… you’ve never seen me in your life. The worst part is that you’re still using 2005 pick-up lines… I think you’d have a better chance if you used something a little more recent.” The guy started laughing and was like dang girl… that was cold. He didn’t get my number, but at least got my name… that was something… oui?)

2. Hi dear ! how are you ? have you MSN? i have with webcam :-) *******@hard-core.hu i want to see you kissesss

(How incredibly exciting… this guy is just a tech. whiz… not only does he have MSN… he also has webcam… I’m stupefied!!!)

3. I am **** ***, a graduate of economics, presently running a master program in university of *****.i am a christain,i worship with living faith church. i work with ***** com.i am an exciting and interesting person who believe strongly in a heathy friendship.i would appreciate if you could oblige to have me as a friend.i await your swift repply.best regards...................

(He’s in a masters program and he can’t spell properly… but who am I to judge… maybe he didn’t want to wow me with too much vocabulary initially… I’m terribly impressed… he works, and is a Christian… that’s so hard to find these days)

4. I want fuck u because you is sexy girl

(That’s all the reason you need eh?!)

5. Hi Overwhelmed, Whats going down, I was just so overwhelmed by ya best friend,especially getting to know she is beautiful in and out.could you please do me a favor to hook me up with her.Just play a nice role for me and tell her i'm nice in and out too. I believe i am. Regards.

(lol… a dude I don’t even know wants me to hook him up with my best friend … the fact that he’s “nice in and out” is enough reason… who would’ve thought?!)

6. Hi there cute girl, I coulndt resist your profile, so I send you this email. I who send it is ***** from Sweden, but just now I work in Kuala Lumpur. Please let me know more about you. Hugs and kisses from your new boy firend *****

(I didn’t know a single hi5 message automatically made someone my ‘boyfriend’… but then again we learn new things every day… no?)

7. Hey wassup mah!its funny,i got you, the beautifullest woman on my hi5 list but i cant even talk to .what should i do to get in touch with you prettyboo!Im running outta ideas and patience...its like we were suppose to meet up with eachother allready! what you think!? am i asking too much!? or should i stop hoping!? ********!(keeping my fingers cross)

(oh my gosh… he called me prettyboo just like I like it… I can’t wait till he starts slapping my ass and calling me ‘down-ass bitch’… ahhh… finally my dream ghetto romance…)

8. Hi, I am ** from the netherlands(Holland) I am 44 years and wokring as an accountant. I am honest, romantic and sportive I am divorced for more then 10 years now I am searching for a nice woman that is honest friendly and romantic for being friends. My hobies are swimming, biking, travelling, driving my car, tabeltennis, nature, hiking and watching movies or dance on good music. Of course I also love romance with the one I love, I mean I love hugging and kissing PLease e-mail me to ****@q8.nl From there I can send pictures. I hope we can become friends

(I always did want a father figure boyfriend… and one from the Netherlands in Holland(not the one in Lagos State). I mean I’ve had guys who ‘danced to good music’… but never one who ‘danced on good music’… I think this guy might just have the secret of the universe in the palm of his hands… )

9. Hi!! I am mexican boy!. I would like to know you. I think that you are a interesting girl. I don't a lot of english, but I will try in order to chat with you better. Kisses

(I don’t recall any part of my hi5 profile where I mentioned being an ESL tutor… but I guess my mama is right… to whom greatness is given, greatness is expected)

10. Can i print up ur pictures to use to jerk it babe? What do u say?

(Well… since you asked so nicely… NO FUCKER!!!)

11. hi i'm not from your past but find you attractive and would want to be friends with you. i suppose i guy finding u attractive should not be new to you. i would be interesting however to find out how you handle it. it rather ineteresting you prefer not to answer about your status. may i ask why. out of curiosity though i also believe being friends is knowing you. looking forward to hearing from you soon. take care and stay blessed.

(Awww…. What a sweetheart… since he pays my internet bill and bought me my computer, I am obliged to answer his questions about my relationship status among other things)

12. I’m still loving your legs. Would you let me to cover them of kisses?. Would you let me to kiss you even between them? Kisses dear ... many kisses.

(Oh my gosh… this guy is a revolutionary… he actually kisses girls… and in between their legs too… Isn’t this terribly exciting?!)

13. When God created you, I believe that it was only you he create that day. You look so natural and beautiful. I just want to let u know that ur pic are killing me if i have the chance to meet a wonderful girl like u in my life i will blow the sky open and i will do anything anything to make my girl happy. Let me hear from u my lady.G. ***** from Amsterdam.

(I think this guy should be arrested… he might be a terrorist… blowing the sky open for my love and all… lol… I’m just saying)

14. Nice to meet you.... Nice profile you've got there.... What cupsize do you have? they look so yummie ;-) Do you use msn? Would like to chat and or cam with you.... ;-)
Mine is *******@hotmail.com

(I believe my La Senza and Victoria Secret helper now owns a hi5 page… I guess they have new bras in and want to reserve me a pair or two… what other explanation could there be for wanting to know my boob size?!)

15. how are u?i hope u are fine and cool. ***** is my name,i am 24 years,single and looking for a gal for a lovely n nice relationship. i am a highly educated guy,a sexy and fit black guy,curled black hair,brown eyes,5.10ft,average bulit. i am a student at the ******** university offering business administration,a trainee manager at royal mail and a dj for a radio and night clubs. i am a ghanaian but i was borned n raised in london and i live with my three lovely sisters in london so u can visit me at any time or day. i saw ur ad at the hi5 and i decided to write u cos i really love ur interest and i wish to know u better if u don't mind. i don't have a pic cos my scanner isn't working i am a friendly,loving,caring,good sense of humour,i love clubbing,reading,travelling, dancing,singing,sex,music. u can ask me any questions and i will surely answer all.
i will end here with much love and kisses to ur sexy lips. take care of urself and have a nice day love, **** do write soon..u can call or text me on 079********,sweetness no prank or private call n u can leave me a txt n i call u bk

(Someone please give this guy a book deal… he’s career- oriented, successful, lives with his 3 sisters and even has a cell phone… I mean Monica Lewinsky only gave a presidential blowjob to get a book deal… why not this guy?)

16. salut beaute je vous souhaite une bonne ann�e 2006 et une bonne sante je voudrais votre numero de telephone merci de votre comprehension

(Anuofia nwuru anwu… enwere ebe edere na hi5 profile m na anam asu asusu ndi akpuruka ahu ina asu.. ala nye kwa gi nshi oku… agadi ekwe nka… iche nam nwere ohere ina e decode okwu aturu e na ede?! Okuko na awi ara ‘comprehend’ kwa gi ebe ino… ya tupuo gi otele ka ihapu ina enyem isi owuwa with okwu enwero meaning… Bonjour to gi na ndi ‘psych ward’ gi… na 2007.)

17. 301-***-****.I told my mom that when I wanted to get married that the lady I wanted to marry would call her.Her name is Denise,just joking but an attractive woman as ur self makes some 1 like me want to come down there just to meet u,and come back home!Stay sweet.

(Oh my gosh… he/she/it is horribly funny! I think I’m in love!!!)

18. damn your so sexy in that dress...how about we let Nigeria and Jamaica meet...

(Why the hell not… what are a couple of oceans and thousands of miles of landspace… just geographical nonsense… I think a bridge can be built to connect Nigeria and Jamaica… that is what he means right?)