A YOUNG MAN’S CRY
One of the good things about being young is being allowed to hope. To look forward to ageing gracefully and being allowed to dream. To dream and to realize your dreams. To fantasize about being great and being somebody. To reach out to the hopes of being like the Adenuga’s of this society and the Dangote’s of this life. Not everyone is allowed to dream anymore. Today, in the bus I realized this as I saw the bus conductor engage in an act so selfless and so simple, it made me sit and think. The beauty of life is the opportunity to pick out the path that we wish to journey. In my life, I have been allowed to choose. In so many young Nigerian’s lives, the same is not so. Consider the life of a conductor, yes we all need conductors. It is a profession that is well appreciated, not so?
Do many of us realize that in the society we live in today it is mostly a period of hardship and frustration that lead people to such odd jobs as bus conducting? Does it pain you to see a young boy who normally should be in school hanging precariously from a bus all in the name of routing for passengers? A young boy who was told that there was no need for more education because his family could not afford it. A young boy who decides that if education is so expensive then maybe it was not worth it. The irony that life introduces is that there is no one to help the boy out because everyone needs a conductor. The conductor of my bus today helped a secondary school boy who was stranded after missing the school bus. The boy did not pay the fare and the conductor did not inform his boss the bus driver. He spoke to the boy calmly and explained that next time he should try to come out early enough for the bus. My heart nearly broke as my spirit cried out. What about you? Who will educate you? Who teaches the mechanic to do his sums? Who encourages the little kids that hawk on the street to learn to add? Why are they out on the street instead of in schools where they belong? What can be done? Who ever thinks of these things? Am I the only one who thinks along these lines? Who are those who could affect the lives of these young ones? Why not take a stand and effect change in their lives?
How long would we put a blind eye to the pain of the less privileged? We all assume when we enter a bus that a bus needs a conductor, that the child hawking pure water was put there because of thirsty people in the traffic, the young man chasing down your car with gala or recharge cards for your mobile phone is a distributor making his own money. There were days in this country without the street hawkers. Is it not because the situation of the economy is harder that we have a case of hawking on the streets? It is simple, now you would treat bus conductors with a little more courtesy.
Not pity, which is not what they need. Just respect for the job that they do. The hard working mechanic slaving his energy under your car as engine oil drips on him. You would pay him on time, right? There are some who truly picked the profession that they are involved in at the moment. However, there are the precious select few who really would have loved to get an education but as we say in this country “na condition make crayfish bend”. These few who do not have a choice and do not have a way out. They are the ones with the frustrated and unrealized dreams. The ones with the dashed hopes. The young people with the unfulfilled desires. How do we help? A question I have often asked myself and one I think every other person who has been young and has been in a position to dream and has been allowed to achieve that dream. Take a moment while basking in your success to consider the young student turned conductor because of lack of money. The young girl turned prostitute because her father died and cannot continue to pay her fees. The young children on the street who run after cars begging people to buy what they have for sale. The mad rush to keep living in a world that gives no options to the next person. The confusion in their world when they see children their ages tucked safely in cars on their way to school. That is the day they realize that they also have a right to schooling. They have a right to dream. They have a reason to look forward to aging gracefully and being fulfilled. So continue to dream even if you sell recharge cards or sew for a living, there would be a brighter day. There is a better way out there and one day it would come to you. Unfulfilled dreams can be a burden and an ache in the soul. There is no way to relieve the pain of now or an unforeseen tomorrow. One can only wait and wonder and ponder.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
A YOUNG LADY’S CRY
She sat by the side of the gutter in shock. Shalewa did not believe her life. It was like a case of hit and run for her. Never in all her sixteen years had she ever thought she would be in such a position. Pregnant! What, where would she start? People had started to stare. No, she would not give them the relief of watching her get up from her crouched position by the gutter. She just wanted to be left alone. She very well felt like flinging herself from the top of the third mainland bridge. At least all people would do was say too bad, such a young, vivacious, nice, obedient and courteous girl. What a waste of a good life. She could imagine the derisive look people would give her mother in the market where she had a stall. Such a shame! What a shame for a young unmarried girl like her to have a bang belly. There was no one for the young woman to turn to. No options at all. An abortion was out of the question. Too expensive, too painful. The father of the baby was not an option, a secondary school student like her, could not even zip his breeches, not to talk of handling the responsibilities of a helpless child. He had freaked out when she had told him, started stammering, stuttering, and gesticulating. She had never felt so guilty of destroying a person’s life before. The first thing to do was get up from her position by the gutter, stop crying before someone who knew her mother saw her and tattled.
There are so many girls so like Shalewa in our society today. It is a case of hit and run for some of them, for a lot of them the carelessness of having unprotected sex, the lack of education and the decadence of irresponsibility that is slowly eating up our society. Sex is being sold, introduced and accepted by young people everywhere. The act of the doing without any thought of the responsibility that comes up should anything go wrong is not being considered. Young girls are left with the burden of unwanted pregnancies because they have made the decision not to kill that which they have conceived within their wombs. Even though sometimes their parents make the decision, the girls carry the brunt of the action. They are left bereft of happiness and filled with regret and what ifs? What if the act was different? What if they had never done it at all? Is there anything that can be done to ease the pain or the disappointment their parents feel when they realize that their precious little girls are actually going to have little girls of their own. The fact that there are more young girls in our society with teenage or unwanted pregnancies does not seem to register with the individuals living in this society. There needs to be awareness, a solution somewhere, a hope for the girls caught in such a situation, a situation that could very well solved. Is abrtion the answer? Could it be an answer for you? Imagine being in a situation with an unwanted child, what would be the way forward? Have the child an give “it” away? Or just kill it? Sorry, excuse me, get rid of it? Im not making a political statement as pro choice or anything, just blabbing, running my mouth as usual, but think for a second, would ya?
She sat by the side of the gutter in shock. Shalewa did not believe her life. It was like a case of hit and run for her. Never in all her sixteen years had she ever thought she would be in such a position. Pregnant! What, where would she start? People had started to stare. No, she would not give them the relief of watching her get up from her crouched position by the gutter. She just wanted to be left alone. She very well felt like flinging herself from the top of the third mainland bridge. At least all people would do was say too bad, such a young, vivacious, nice, obedient and courteous girl. What a waste of a good life. She could imagine the derisive look people would give her mother in the market where she had a stall. Such a shame! What a shame for a young unmarried girl like her to have a bang belly. There was no one for the young woman to turn to. No options at all. An abortion was out of the question. Too expensive, too painful. The father of the baby was not an option, a secondary school student like her, could not even zip his breeches, not to talk of handling the responsibilities of a helpless child. He had freaked out when she had told him, started stammering, stuttering, and gesticulating. She had never felt so guilty of destroying a person’s life before. The first thing to do was get up from her position by the gutter, stop crying before someone who knew her mother saw her and tattled.
There are so many girls so like Shalewa in our society today. It is a case of hit and run for some of them, for a lot of them the carelessness of having unprotected sex, the lack of education and the decadence of irresponsibility that is slowly eating up our society. Sex is being sold, introduced and accepted by young people everywhere. The act of the doing without any thought of the responsibility that comes up should anything go wrong is not being considered. Young girls are left with the burden of unwanted pregnancies because they have made the decision not to kill that which they have conceived within their wombs. Even though sometimes their parents make the decision, the girls carry the brunt of the action. They are left bereft of happiness and filled with regret and what ifs? What if the act was different? What if they had never done it at all? Is there anything that can be done to ease the pain or the disappointment their parents feel when they realize that their precious little girls are actually going to have little girls of their own. The fact that there are more young girls in our society with teenage or unwanted pregnancies does not seem to register with the individuals living in this society. There needs to be awareness, a solution somewhere, a hope for the girls caught in such a situation, a situation that could very well solved. Is abrtion the answer? Could it be an answer for you? Imagine being in a situation with an unwanted child, what would be the way forward? Have the child an give “it” away? Or just kill it? Sorry, excuse me, get rid of it? Im not making a political statement as pro choice or anything, just blabbing, running my mouth as usual, but think for a second, would ya?
A MOTHER’S CRY
While walking back from classes one day in my school, I came across a sight I considered too unfortunate to be stamped on my memory. A young malnourished mother of two little kids sat at the roadside begging for alms. This is not a sight that is too strange in the society that we live in but it struck a chord deep in my heart. Usually in our society, seeing the less fortunate beg on the street is a sight we have become accustomed. Blind men, cripples, the deaf, the dumb, those with missing arms or other various limbs prowl our roads, highways and even streets and closes. Do they constitute a nuisance? Do you feel moved every time a blind man led by the hand of a child young enough to be yours sings a melodious song of blessings at your car window in traffic all in a bid to wangle loose change from your grasp?
Working on the island can be especially horrible. The number of beggars on Lagos Island alone is enough to make me nauseous. When driving, dirty cherubic little faces are pressed against your window pane, chanting that you are their aunty or uncle as the case may imply and that God was going to bless you in ways you never thought existed! Walking is a different case. While walking you have to make sure, you are not a sucker for little kids as their parents set them up to latch onto any unsuspecting passer by and solicit for assistance. I was a victim once and believe me as a sappy sucker for little kids I had to learn to condition my mind to remember the adults that set this up and my rage against them. This particular kid was a very beautiful Fulani girl of about six or seven years old. She had a poor grasp of the English language but could easily converse in broken English. After calling me her aunty like I was a long lost relative she began to narrate to me how the almighty was going to shower me with gifts if I gave her money. I then informed the young lady that I did not have money to give her since I had mentally scanned my purse and the lowest denomination had been a two hundred naira note. She then looked up at me and asked twenty naira? With obvious disbelief that this beautifully dressed “aunty” could claim not to have such a meager sum. No, I replied her. Ten naira? She took a stance as if haggling over the price of dried fish {eja kika} in the market. No, my darling I replied again. Five naira? She was almost stamping her feet now like a child throwing a tantrum. My dear, I stooped low to reason with her, the thing is aunty does not have any change. Oh! She said, I could see the light of understanding dawning in her eyes. She still held on to my hand as the wheels of clockwork where turning in her brain. Biscuit? She then whispered reaching a compromise. It seemed like the perfect solution.
I took her to a woman at the roadside who had a generous display of biscuits and asked her to choose. She picked up a biscuit that cost me just five naira yelled her “thank you” and ran off to find her mum or another prospective customer. All I could do was stand there and watch her go with my sappy “I am a sucker for little kids smile”. It so happens that the sucker for little kids is now crying out why? Why do these children have to be on the road? Why the streets and not the comfort of a home? What happened to the state or countries where these beggars come from? Are they refugees seeking solace? Are they illegal immigrants? I hear a lot of them are from the northern states. If they are, what are their governments looking at or attending to that they do not notice the regular outpour of their people to Lagos with little or nothing to cater for themselves. What is our government looking at or attending to that it does not notice the regular inflow of people into the state with no prospects, no hope of surviving or even seeing the next meal.
We Nigerians bemoan our situation; we cry out against the economy, against price increase, against bad living conditions, against bad roads and lack of electricity, have you ever considered what it is like for the other man? The little Arab kids that beg for alms at Yaba? The Fulani children at Sabo, Ikoyi and Lagos Island? Their parents who are blind, crippled, or too old to be pitied who live in cardboard boxes or houses with tin roofs. What happens when the rain comes? What do they do for the want of a toilet? I was once on the third mainland bridge and I saw two little boys defecating in the sea. That was as far as they were concerned their toilet. To me it was despicable and very gross. To them it is their only hope of easing their bowels. Do other people think like this? Do we in the comfort of our air conditioned cars and houses think of those who are less fortunate? Do we in our duplexes, three bedroom flats, two bedroom flats, room and parlors, with our generators,{even if it’s an “I pass my neighbour” } consider those who can’t afford a candle because the money could buy one wrap of garri, one wrap of sugar, one wrap of groundnut and one pure water? If you do not, let me take you on a journey in your mind’s eye. Picture that which I saw that fateful day on my way back from class. Sitting by the roadside, a young mother of about twenty two years of age with two of her little ones, a baby who cried out, flies buzzing on the little ones sores, a silently weeping mother, watch her tears drip from her eyes, hear her moans escalate as her child joins her melancholy, hear her begin to wail. A mother’s cry, Do you get the picture?
While walking back from classes one day in my school, I came across a sight I considered too unfortunate to be stamped on my memory. A young malnourished mother of two little kids sat at the roadside begging for alms. This is not a sight that is too strange in the society that we live in but it struck a chord deep in my heart. Usually in our society, seeing the less fortunate beg on the street is a sight we have become accustomed. Blind men, cripples, the deaf, the dumb, those with missing arms or other various limbs prowl our roads, highways and even streets and closes. Do they constitute a nuisance? Do you feel moved every time a blind man led by the hand of a child young enough to be yours sings a melodious song of blessings at your car window in traffic all in a bid to wangle loose change from your grasp?
Working on the island can be especially horrible. The number of beggars on Lagos Island alone is enough to make me nauseous. When driving, dirty cherubic little faces are pressed against your window pane, chanting that you are their aunty or uncle as the case may imply and that God was going to bless you in ways you never thought existed! Walking is a different case. While walking you have to make sure, you are not a sucker for little kids as their parents set them up to latch onto any unsuspecting passer by and solicit for assistance. I was a victim once and believe me as a sappy sucker for little kids I had to learn to condition my mind to remember the adults that set this up and my rage against them. This particular kid was a very beautiful Fulani girl of about six or seven years old. She had a poor grasp of the English language but could easily converse in broken English. After calling me her aunty like I was a long lost relative she began to narrate to me how the almighty was going to shower me with gifts if I gave her money. I then informed the young lady that I did not have money to give her since I had mentally scanned my purse and the lowest denomination had been a two hundred naira note. She then looked up at me and asked twenty naira? With obvious disbelief that this beautifully dressed “aunty” could claim not to have such a meager sum. No, I replied her. Ten naira? She took a stance as if haggling over the price of dried fish {eja kika} in the market. No, my darling I replied again. Five naira? She was almost stamping her feet now like a child throwing a tantrum. My dear, I stooped low to reason with her, the thing is aunty does not have any change. Oh! She said, I could see the light of understanding dawning in her eyes. She still held on to my hand as the wheels of clockwork where turning in her brain. Biscuit? She then whispered reaching a compromise. It seemed like the perfect solution.
I took her to a woman at the roadside who had a generous display of biscuits and asked her to choose. She picked up a biscuit that cost me just five naira yelled her “thank you” and ran off to find her mum or another prospective customer. All I could do was stand there and watch her go with my sappy “I am a sucker for little kids smile”. It so happens that the sucker for little kids is now crying out why? Why do these children have to be on the road? Why the streets and not the comfort of a home? What happened to the state or countries where these beggars come from? Are they refugees seeking solace? Are they illegal immigrants? I hear a lot of them are from the northern states. If they are, what are their governments looking at or attending to that they do not notice the regular outpour of their people to Lagos with little or nothing to cater for themselves. What is our government looking at or attending to that it does not notice the regular inflow of people into the state with no prospects, no hope of surviving or even seeing the next meal.
We Nigerians bemoan our situation; we cry out against the economy, against price increase, against bad living conditions, against bad roads and lack of electricity, have you ever considered what it is like for the other man? The little Arab kids that beg for alms at Yaba? The Fulani children at Sabo, Ikoyi and Lagos Island? Their parents who are blind, crippled, or too old to be pitied who live in cardboard boxes or houses with tin roofs. What happens when the rain comes? What do they do for the want of a toilet? I was once on the third mainland bridge and I saw two little boys defecating in the sea. That was as far as they were concerned their toilet. To me it was despicable and very gross. To them it is their only hope of easing their bowels. Do other people think like this? Do we in the comfort of our air conditioned cars and houses think of those who are less fortunate? Do we in our duplexes, three bedroom flats, two bedroom flats, room and parlors, with our generators,{even if it’s an “I pass my neighbour” } consider those who can’t afford a candle because the money could buy one wrap of garri, one wrap of sugar, one wrap of groundnut and one pure water? If you do not, let me take you on a journey in your mind’s eye. Picture that which I saw that fateful day on my way back from class. Sitting by the roadside, a young mother of about twenty two years of age with two of her little ones, a baby who cried out, flies buzzing on the little ones sores, a silently weeping mother, watch her tears drip from her eyes, hear her moans escalate as her child joins her melancholy, hear her begin to wail. A mother’s cry, Do you get the picture?
Sorry, everyone for not being here a while……I kinda got lazy really, listening to Michael Bauble, I really don’t know the spelling and such but I do believe it’s a beautiful song….I’m crazy about music really, all kinds…..I have those I can’t listen to for too long, I guess most young people are crazy about music..Rock, Eclectic, Melancholic, Hip hop, Pop, Techno, R and B, all types truly. I’m mad about practically all kinds but I can’t listen to just anything…. Some kinds of music interest me just briefly….I met someone recently, young , but he loves to listen to techno! Young people these days listen to everything but I have never met someone who could actually claim to enjoy the drone of continuous beat as is in techno, I mean we listen to people like Kylie Minogue….that’s actually the closest some of us get to techno or the “heaven” song by Dj somebody…I don’t know…Howie Day just came up…collide another beautiful song, now Kc and Jojo’s all my life, it seems to be my night! What was I saying before I began to drift? Yeah,, I was doing the techno rundown, if there’s someone else out there who does the weird music thingy, please let me know….got introduced to Enya just last year and what an introduction it was, im hooked now, eaten up all she’s spat out, she is preety deep though one of ma best friends has deeply found claims about her being demonic, the demonic list includes Evanessence, Madonna, every rock star, especially hard rock ones, but it was when the Xmen joined the list that I decided she had gone too far! I mean I love the xmen, cartoons, evolution, part one, two and the last stand, crazy gimmicks, what? Don’t be disrespecting a good thing…abi?
Anyway, back to music…I especially like my music slow. Im not sappy or anything, it just has a calming soothing effect. I do the hard rap thingy waving my hands and stomping on my feet and doing the jigga sign, Eminem makes me laugh off my head so I like him too. Snoop doggy dog has no message for me except it has to do with drugs or sex so I don’t like him strictly, Busta rhymes still catches my fancy with catchy songs like I love my chick, though the video was a black Mr and Mrs Smith remake, it was cool. I listen to reggae….can I say that? Well, Bob Marley classics sha, I hate listening to Joe and guys who sing like him because they tend to make “their” women sound weak, pitiful and without a mind of their own….i do know that people love Joe’s “I wanna know” but when I heard the song I was still in secondary school, and I had my own version, I wanna know what makes you smile so I can be the only one who makes cry, who wants to give anyone that kind of exclusive rights to hurt you? Don’t tell him so he has an excuse when he does hurt you, it’ll hurt more if he knew…lol…that’s what I think sha. I’m open to all kinds of music, I’m what you call a music prostitute, I surprisingly do soul and jazz sometimes, blues too, I also catch lyrics fast. It’s a gift. I love gbedu! Yeah, I didn’t mention our Nigerian scene abi? I love the sensible songs but when a song says mama had 9 pikins or a girl don dey make u drink ogogoro, I switch off, I believe every song should bear a message, do you want to make me laugh? Listen to Eminem’s ‘the way you shake it” and compare it to Nigeria’s own “where you get that @#$#, then tell me what you think…lol. It’s all in the mind, I love to rep naija, cos it’s a great place all round…there are a lot of great music people here too. Not meaning to do an ad for anybody here but we all agree don’t we? Some nigerian acts are the bomb! Really, trully some are copycats of course, n be bad thing, them et them plenty for yonder..lol, some dey even copy the copycats….na wa o, wetin we go call those ones copying copycats abi copycata? The message needs to be spread that THE NAIJA MUSIC SCENE,it’s not for everybody. Ome songs kill your love for music, I wont mention any….u can’t make me, I wont be no target for no missiles, No matter what I love gbedu!
Anyway, back to music…I especially like my music slow. Im not sappy or anything, it just has a calming soothing effect. I do the hard rap thingy waving my hands and stomping on my feet and doing the jigga sign, Eminem makes me laugh off my head so I like him too. Snoop doggy dog has no message for me except it has to do with drugs or sex so I don’t like him strictly, Busta rhymes still catches my fancy with catchy songs like I love my chick, though the video was a black Mr and Mrs Smith remake, it was cool. I listen to reggae….can I say that? Well, Bob Marley classics sha, I hate listening to Joe and guys who sing like him because they tend to make “their” women sound weak, pitiful and without a mind of their own….i do know that people love Joe’s “I wanna know” but when I heard the song I was still in secondary school, and I had my own version, I wanna know what makes you smile so I can be the only one who makes cry, who wants to give anyone that kind of exclusive rights to hurt you? Don’t tell him so he has an excuse when he does hurt you, it’ll hurt more if he knew…lol…that’s what I think sha. I’m open to all kinds of music, I’m what you call a music prostitute, I surprisingly do soul and jazz sometimes, blues too, I also catch lyrics fast. It’s a gift. I love gbedu! Yeah, I didn’t mention our Nigerian scene abi? I love the sensible songs but when a song says mama had 9 pikins or a girl don dey make u drink ogogoro, I switch off, I believe every song should bear a message, do you want to make me laugh? Listen to Eminem’s ‘the way you shake it” and compare it to Nigeria’s own “where you get that @#$#, then tell me what you think…lol. It’s all in the mind, I love to rep naija, cos it’s a great place all round…there are a lot of great music people here too. Not meaning to do an ad for anybody here but we all agree don’t we? Some nigerian acts are the bomb! Really, trully some are copycats of course, n be bad thing, them et them plenty for yonder..lol, some dey even copy the copycats….na wa o, wetin we go call those ones copying copycats abi copycata? The message needs to be spread that THE NAIJA MUSIC SCENE,it’s not for everybody. Ome songs kill your love for music, I wont mention any….u can’t make me, I wont be no target for no missiles, No matter what I love gbedu!
Updtate!!!!
Everyone has been askin for an update on this blog, well roll out the carpets and bang on the drums cos here it is…..did I hear a cheer? Okay, the thing about bloging is sometimes, you o…wht do I write, I know I vented out some ex boyfriend steam at the beginning but im recovered now….still kinda somehow where guys are concerned but I think im fully recovered…so no more thrash, I promise, real issues and other stuff.cross my heart and hope to vomit…..`
Everyone has been askin for an update on this blog, well roll out the carpets and bang on the drums cos here it is…..did I hear a cheer? Okay, the thing about bloging is sometimes, you o…wht do I write, I know I vented out some ex boyfriend steam at the beginning but im recovered now….still kinda somehow where guys are concerned but I think im fully recovered…so no more thrash, I promise, real issues and other stuff.cross my heart and hope to vomit…..`
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
paranoia!
nope, im not paranoid....at least i dont think so....
another thing i absolutely hate doing is eating in public....why do i hate eating in public....it's very simple...everytime i do, i feel eyes poring over my food and thinking.....oh my GOD! why wont she be fat? look at what she is consuming......
anyway, i went to eat recently at a fastfood restaurant....i initially wanted a burger but when i got there i decided on eating real food. after placing my order, i tried to get a seat, i usually like seating in a corner so that i dont have an audience during my gross "consumption of fat" but being typical rush hour on the island....the joint was full...there were only seats by the window, this is bad for me cos not just the people inside get to watch you, but the people outside as well....anyway, i got there and started to eat.......after a while, i noticed the prickles going down my spine........i knew someone was watching me eat, i looked up and caught him....there! right across the room there was this light guy staring at me....im absolutely not attracted to light guys, really, trully so i did not have a problem but this one kept staring so i started a monologue with myself
girl have you got oil on your mouth?
have you stained your shirt yet?
are you chewing with your mouth open?
what?
it's not cause he thinks you are cute because watching you eat is absolutely not cute....
he was still staring......
i was beginning to get scared
baby do you know this guy?
maybe you do
this guy could not be attracted to you, you only attract guys 38 and older...believe me, i do....
anyway at this point he had finished his meal and had begun to walk towards me....i decided to paste a smile on my face just in case i knew him.......he walked right past me!
mehn, he wasn't 38 or older....lol
nope, im not paranoid......
another thing i absolutely hate doing is eating in public....why do i hate eating in public....it's very simple...everytime i do, i feel eyes poring over my food and thinking.....oh my GOD! why wont she be fat? look at what she is consuming......
anyway, i went to eat recently at a fastfood restaurant....i initially wanted a burger but when i got there i decided on eating real food. after placing my order, i tried to get a seat, i usually like seating in a corner so that i dont have an audience during my gross "consumption of fat" but being typical rush hour on the island....the joint was full...there were only seats by the window, this is bad for me cos not just the people inside get to watch you, but the people outside as well....anyway, i got there and started to eat.......after a while, i noticed the prickles going down my spine........i knew someone was watching me eat, i looked up and caught him....there! right across the room there was this light guy staring at me....im absolutely not attracted to light guys, really, trully so i did not have a problem but this one kept staring so i started a monologue with myself
girl have you got oil on your mouth?
have you stained your shirt yet?
are you chewing with your mouth open?
what?
it's not cause he thinks you are cute because watching you eat is absolutely not cute....
he was still staring......
i was beginning to get scared
baby do you know this guy?
maybe you do
this guy could not be attracted to you, you only attract guys 38 and older...believe me, i do....
anyway at this point he had finished his meal and had begun to walk towards me....i decided to paste a smile on my face just in case i knew him.......he walked right past me!
mehn, he wasn't 38 or older....lol
nope, im not paranoid......
riding the bus!
im not a typical buttey, im not a buttey at all. i hate riding the bus anyway. i trully do. for someone who has been riding a bus for years and years, i still hate it. even with the horror stories you hear about "bussing". some people get carried away to destinations they never envisioned before and get beheaded......oh bother
anyway, why do i hate the bus?
should i start with the press of bodies?
i hate feeling like im in an enclosed space....is that claustrophbia or something? i dunno. im not really comfortable with touching others or being touched. now in a bus, you ain't got no choice. there's a press of bodies left, right and centre. i totally hate that and as per not being a buttey now, i aint got no choice.
bussing for me can be a funny experience especially with conductors. they can be so much fun!
with thier dirty mouths that need washing out with soap as they insult anyone who dares to ask for change or make a comment about thier transportation vehicle. i am always so amused as i see a driver or conductor getting thier groove on with a passenger who argues the cost of transportation or something.
lets look at this sketch for instance.............
conductor:yaba, yaba, yaba, enter with your 80 naira change o, if u no get change your money na 100 naira.
my mind: please nobody challenge him unless u need trouble.
unfortunate passenger: wetin u mean? if i no get change nko?
nutty conductor: i don talk am o...u no get change ur money na 100 naira, if u no like am , make u come down o...
passenger: we go see!
after we have all paid....the conductor deliberately leaves out the change of he/she that had the guts to contradict him.....
passenger: conductor where my change?
conductor: begins to whistle....
passenger: conductor.....
conductor: silence
passenger: conductor, abi u no hear?
conductor: a look of utter denseness....(if that's a word)
passenger:conductor......
conductor: (ready for trouble)....passenger
passenger:conductor
conductor:passenger
passenger: my change?
conductor: i don talk before abi u no hear? infact i no get change....
passenger: u no get change abi? wetin u wan make i do?....yada yada yada....until others intervene, all the while the conductor has been "catching trips" like they call it.
i remember one of my hair raising experiences with a conductor. it was quite recent sef. i don't ever talk to conductors because i know better. well, this stupid day, i was on my way to ikeja from the island and the conductor said the bus was 120 naira....now that was not the first time a lot of us on that bus were going that way and a lot of us knew that the bus was a 100 naira. i kept quiet because i was reading a book. other people in the bus were not that quiet sha. they got mad......
the guy probably had a bad day cos he shouted them down.....get down if u can't pay!
we all paid and there was a little issue of change. some young guy with an accent politely told him he couldnt accept old notes cos of the new rules....
this got the guy going again....he left with his tail blazing hot!!
i didnt have any idea how angry he was until i saw him charging to my window....he was in fine form and he was shouting...pissed off by the others in my bus...i dont know what got into me...trully i don't..i hate it when people can't keep thier cool...it pisses me off...so i shut the window...right in his face...i didnt want to be disturbed in my book reading...
GBOAH....now that was a loud sound...the sound of the window under the power of his fist...the guy was punching the window....right beside my face...i had had enough!
hey!...that was me sticking my face from an open window...what the hell is your poblem?
he was screaming now....in yoruba for the life of me i could not understand him....so i shut the window again....he started to punch again.........
hey, can't you control your temper?
sister was on a roll...........
he fired me back with come down here and let us see.............
see what? u think i want you to take off my face with those fists of yours?
i ain't that stupid...yet.
at this time everyone else in the bus had started to shout....
i had lost my temper............did i talk to you? did you hear my voice? what is your problem?
he was shouting at me like i was a kid....i'll beat you up!
go and beat your kids at home.....drunkard...do i look like your daughter?
small girl come down let me beat you up.........in a bulls eye mister.....all i need is a phone call and you'll sleep in jail...at this time i was thinking of who i'll call with righteous indignation......at this time the whole bus park was filled with sectators.......old guy speaking yoruba and lil girl politely insulting him in english..........scallywag.....frustration ain't a nice way to wake up....if you are frustrated go shoot yourself!
hehe....that day was fun cos i was an innocent bystander with a bad attitude......i don't talk much cos i know about my acrid mouth!
at the end of the day the whole bus was in an uproar....some guy in the bus decided people were being rude to the old man and i politely asked him how else id have told the old drunk not to take my face off....he then said he wasn't reffering to me but to another person....now the "person" to whom he reffered was old enough to be his mother...she felt insulted and we were at it again....bussing can be fun!
my worst bus experience was recently. i was ill and had to take a bus home....unfortunately i slept off only to be rudely awoken by a hand on my breast!
some old guy who was sitting beside me and he had been systematically getting high....forgive me...airee by "feeling" my breast. i was so upset, i could almost cry.
when i woke up, he was shocked but not enough for me....i slapped at his hand but i trully wanted to beat him up....these are parts of my body we refer to as "private" and here a member of the public is taking liberties........when it's not a public offer?
all i could manage was a sweet smile and a "the next time you do that God would strike you down dead". that was all i said and that was because i took a minute before i spoke.....i almost cursed him...trully i so wanted to....so you see my bussing fear is grounded on some plain facts!
anyway, why do i hate the bus?
should i start with the press of bodies?
i hate feeling like im in an enclosed space....is that claustrophbia or something? i dunno. im not really comfortable with touching others or being touched. now in a bus, you ain't got no choice. there's a press of bodies left, right and centre. i totally hate that and as per not being a buttey now, i aint got no choice.
bussing for me can be a funny experience especially with conductors. they can be so much fun!
with thier dirty mouths that need washing out with soap as they insult anyone who dares to ask for change or make a comment about thier transportation vehicle. i am always so amused as i see a driver or conductor getting thier groove on with a passenger who argues the cost of transportation or something.
lets look at this sketch for instance.............
conductor:yaba, yaba, yaba, enter with your 80 naira change o, if u no get change your money na 100 naira.
my mind: please nobody challenge him unless u need trouble.
unfortunate passenger: wetin u mean? if i no get change nko?
nutty conductor: i don talk am o...u no get change ur money na 100 naira, if u no like am , make u come down o...
passenger: we go see!
after we have all paid....the conductor deliberately leaves out the change of he/she that had the guts to contradict him.....
passenger: conductor where my change?
conductor: begins to whistle....
passenger: conductor.....
conductor: silence
passenger: conductor, abi u no hear?
conductor: a look of utter denseness....(if that's a word)
passenger:conductor......
conductor: (ready for trouble)....passenger
passenger:conductor
conductor:passenger
passenger: my change?
conductor: i don talk before abi u no hear? infact i no get change....
passenger: u no get change abi? wetin u wan make i do?....yada yada yada....until others intervene, all the while the conductor has been "catching trips" like they call it.
i remember one of my hair raising experiences with a conductor. it was quite recent sef. i don't ever talk to conductors because i know better. well, this stupid day, i was on my way to ikeja from the island and the conductor said the bus was 120 naira....now that was not the first time a lot of us on that bus were going that way and a lot of us knew that the bus was a 100 naira. i kept quiet because i was reading a book. other people in the bus were not that quiet sha. they got mad......
the guy probably had a bad day cos he shouted them down.....get down if u can't pay!
we all paid and there was a little issue of change. some young guy with an accent politely told him he couldnt accept old notes cos of the new rules....
this got the guy going again....he left with his tail blazing hot!!
i didnt have any idea how angry he was until i saw him charging to my window....he was in fine form and he was shouting...pissed off by the others in my bus...i dont know what got into me...trully i don't..i hate it when people can't keep thier cool...it pisses me off...so i shut the window...right in his face...i didnt want to be disturbed in my book reading...
GBOAH....now that was a loud sound...the sound of the window under the power of his fist...the guy was punching the window....right beside my face...i had had enough!
hey!...that was me sticking my face from an open window...what the hell is your poblem?
he was screaming now....in yoruba for the life of me i could not understand him....so i shut the window again....he started to punch again.........
hey, can't you control your temper?
sister was on a roll...........
he fired me back with come down here and let us see.............
see what? u think i want you to take off my face with those fists of yours?
i ain't that stupid...yet.
at this time everyone else in the bus had started to shout....
i had lost my temper............did i talk to you? did you hear my voice? what is your problem?
he was shouting at me like i was a kid....i'll beat you up!
go and beat your kids at home.....drunkard...do i look like your daughter?
small girl come down let me beat you up.........in a bulls eye mister.....all i need is a phone call and you'll sleep in jail...at this time i was thinking of who i'll call with righteous indignation......at this time the whole bus park was filled with sectators.......old guy speaking yoruba and lil girl politely insulting him in english..........scallywag.....frustration ain't a nice way to wake up....if you are frustrated go shoot yourself!
hehe....that day was fun cos i was an innocent bystander with a bad attitude......i don't talk much cos i know about my acrid mouth!
at the end of the day the whole bus was in an uproar....some guy in the bus decided people were being rude to the old man and i politely asked him how else id have told the old drunk not to take my face off....he then said he wasn't reffering to me but to another person....now the "person" to whom he reffered was old enough to be his mother...she felt insulted and we were at it again....bussing can be fun!
my worst bus experience was recently. i was ill and had to take a bus home....unfortunately i slept off only to be rudely awoken by a hand on my breast!
some old guy who was sitting beside me and he had been systematically getting high....forgive me...airee by "feeling" my breast. i was so upset, i could almost cry.
when i woke up, he was shocked but not enough for me....i slapped at his hand but i trully wanted to beat him up....these are parts of my body we refer to as "private" and here a member of the public is taking liberties........when it's not a public offer?
all i could manage was a sweet smile and a "the next time you do that God would strike you down dead". that was all i said and that was because i took a minute before i spoke.....i almost cursed him...trully i so wanted to....so you see my bussing fear is grounded on some plain facts!
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