THE TOKOLOSH - South African Prankster, Leon Schuster and Alfred.

My Dear James

It’s been a while we spoke, it’s not that I didn’t want to write nor could I find the time to but the truth is, it’s hard.

Everyone walks around trying desperately to avoid mentioning you. I want to be angry with them but I can’t blame them cos talking about you is hard.

I still imagine you’re in med school away for the longest of times and dream of the conversations we would have when you get back. Then I wake up; and it’s hard to stay awake cos I still want to go back to sleep and talk to you.

I made some bad decisions this year and I’m so sure you would have talked me out of every single one. You were my conscience, the voice that curbed my excesses and always talked me down from whatever ledge I was standing on. I want to blame you for my bad decisions but it’s hard to do that.

The memories are fading and no matter how hard I try I can’t hold on to them. It’s like with each year some memory disappears and I can’t seem to separate the imagined from reality. Remembering is hard but the fear of forgetting is harder.

One thing I can’t forget is your love for music. I listen to the songs you loved and imagine us singing together, I can hear your distinct tenor. Remember ‘So Far Away’ by Staind? No one gets why I cry whenever I’m singing your songs, even though they are upbeat rock songs. They don’t understand that your songs are the last connections I have to you.

I dedicate this to you on the anniversary of your death. Sleep well my sweet brother for you will always be in my heart. No matter how hard it is to remember, I will never forget. 

Those bastards will rot in hell for depriving you of a full life.

Love always. Your big sis.

The Question Of The Child

A couple of friends were discussing the subject of love, marriage and commitment the other day and an interesting debate ensued.

Where I come from marriage is the ultimate achievement for a woman. Us unwed ladies are looked down on and pitied for not being fortunate enough to be married. You can hear it in conversations over your head "Poor you, still not married, she most definitely is doing something wrong to still be single after all this time". Hello! I'm still in the room for Christ's sake, shish!!!

So where was I? Yes, marriage as the ultimate achievement. The crowning glory of a woman is her husband and the jewelry in her crown are her children. Yes, I do agree that children are just adorable. This brings me to the crux of the debate; children seize to be the jewel in the crown when the lady is unwed. The question being why.

An unwed lady, we can condone but when she has kids in tow, it limits her possibilities of finding a Mr. Right to live happily ever after with. I once knew a guy who said he would marry a single mother with a female child but not a male child, his reason being he and his wife must share only one first son and that son must be his. Hmmmm, didn't get the logic then and still don't get it now. 

The realities that prospective single mothers have to tackle upon discovering they are with child are numerous

1.      What will my family say? - There is always the situation of being disowned and thrown out of the house by strict parents who can't stand the disgrace.

2.   What will people say? - The stigmatization of single mothers by their 'friends' is better imagined. People do have bad mouth and tend to wag a considerable amount of negative comments. The society automatically labels the lady promiscuous and wayward.

3.      Who will marry me? - There are a limited number of men who are modern enough to accept another man's child as his. And sometimes those 'modern' men act out when married to these 'promiscuous' women.

It’s not an easy decision, to keep or not to keep, that’s the question. 

As the debate drew to a noisy close, the floor was divided. Some were of the opinion that any lady who found herself in such a situation should suffer the consequences of their actions and endure punishment of life as a single mom with the possibility of no prince charming ever gracing your doorsteps. Reasons: 1) Abortion is a sin. 2) Screw society, you’re old enough to live through the stigma. 3) A man will eventually come, so fear not.

While a smaller number believed abortion was the only solution. Reason: A mistake had already been made why complicate your life even further? 

A lone voice maintained this position, "You don't know what you're capable of until you're faced with a tough decision.  Your decision can swing anywhere so be cautious about spewing boastful opinions and convictions".

 

I have to agree with her point of view and remain on the fence on this one.

What do you think?

All Of Me

P90X

Feel the endorphins; exercise gives you a natural high; don’t you just love the feeling you get when you exercise?

Lies, all lies cos I’m constantly in pain.

I’m not new to exercising. I survived the screaming bully that is Jillian Michaels and endured her torture and her tortured tools

1. Banish Fat Boost Metabolism
2. Ripped In 30
3. 30 Day Shred
4. Body Revolution

At the end of it all the fat wasn’t banished, my body wasn’t ripped nor shredded and my body, though down a few inches, wasn’t revolutionized.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying these exercises didn’t work, no; they just didn’t give the drastic results championed by the infomercials. I had high hopes for the duration of my journey with Jillian Michaels but those expectations got the life snuffed out of them at the end of every program I tried. I lost some weigh but not all.

So I decided to curb my expectations and search for a fitness DVD that would get me closer to my goal within an allotted timeframe. I watched countless YouTube videos and read an endless number of blogs and reviews before selecting my next torture tool. Enter P90X – Power 90 X.

My weight loss journey started in May of 2012 after I tore through my dress at a function – it was 12noon. I held the dress together with safety pins for the duration of the event as I was the event planner and couldn’t leave. After the event, I drove straight to the gym and enrolled to start the very next day. I was so humiliated.

Starting out I was a size 20 bordering on size 22. Now one year later I am a size 18 still fighting to become a size 14 before January – fingers crossed.

Transitioning from going to the gym to a Jillian Michaels DVD was difficult and I cursed her every time I popped her DVD in. Good times. Now transitioning into weight training is something of a challenge as I do not have upper body strength.

P90X involves a lot of pushups, pull ups and planks – no walk in the park; and whoever said Yoga was a breeze was just fooling around. Yesterday was Yoga X day and Tony expected me to do this!

Hell No

Give me weights and I’ll lift them, but for crying out loud ‘Crane’, ‘Pushups with one leg in the air’! Seriously dude! And I don’t know where to find the time to exercise for 1hour at a stretch, God help me.

I don’t know what I’ve signed up for cos I couldn’t scrub my back in the shower this morning from the pain.

I hope I can live through this. Wish me luck.

Flirting 101

I need help. Teach me please

When You Grow Up

What do you want to be when you grow up?

How many times have we been harassed with that question? From age 6 we are all ‘bullied’ or pressured to decide what parts we will follow for the rest of our lives.

Like seriously! Such pressure.

Little do we know that this question and the answers that follow set off a chain of events that affect the course of our lives. Some never accomplish those dreams and our haunted by the feelings of failure and defeat for most parts of their lives while some of the lucky ones do get to look back at their lives, smile cos they are exactly where they wanted to be. They lived the dream.

I am most definitely not living my dream; the dreams of a little girl who started out wanting to be a teacher, then a lawyer. The harsh realities surrounding being a lawyer opened my eyes and killed any rose tinted delusions I had concerning that. And quite frankly as of right now, I’m coasting.

How many of you are really living your dreams. Whether it was the one you made when you were 10 years old or 16 years old. Can you look back and say I am exactly who I said I would be and still be proud of the decisions that brought you here?

I would really want to know.

2013 Tony Awards: Neil Patrick Harris Opening Number HD

Passenger 47E

So I just got back from a trip and I had the misfortune of seating beside a sleeper and a farter. I have no problems with a sleeping seat partner, but dude; did you have to expose me to the horrible mixes that were your meal earlier in the day? Gosh!

You all know I’m a planner. I don’t like to be taken unawares and as much as possible try to make everything conform to my wishes and desires. The one thing I hate the most after boiled beans is flying. I don’t hate flying because it is the surest way to die as the odds of surviving a plane crash is not good. No, I hate flying because in the words of Forrest Gump “Life is like a box of chocolate, you never know what you’re gonna get”. And in this instance chocolate is code for seat partner.

You hear a lot of experiences from frequent fliers; hits (kindled friendships on board the aircraft) and misses (noisy and irritating passengers with ulterior motives) and the stories in-between. As much as I secretly crave adventure, I try to avoid falling into either category so I bury my head in a book and movies if flight time exceeds 2-hours.

Generally, I haven’t had good experiences when flying. I once had the misfortune of sitting beside a man who smelt like a he-goat. Boy, was that smell foul; I still feel sick in the stomach every time I remember that plane ride (excuse me while I vomit).

I’m back.

Luckily for me, I had an atomizer and sniffed on my perfume for the 3-hour flight. I was high on j’adore when we landed. That experience taught me to always expect the worse when flying.

So there I was in yet another flight seated to a farter with his ass pointed in my direction. Lord have mercy! I was angry, so waited till he was awake, positioned my ass towards him and released a silent bomb, looked at him while smiling sweetly and said ‘I am just returning the favor, hope you enjoy mine as much as I ‘enjoyed’ yours’.

Then I went to sleep.

#Inyourface!

Work

1. What day of the week do you wake up singing ‘boo ya! Its gonna be a great day?”
2. What day of the week do you wish would never end?
3. What day of the week do you go to bed crying and dreading the dawn?

The correct answers would be
a. Friday
b. Saturday
c. Sunday

And then you wake up in the morning saying this …

Trust me it has nothing to do with hating your job, cos I don't, but everything to do with the fact that Mondays are a drag and the fact that you often feel shortchanged in the sleep department come Monday morning.

It also takes a while to reboot and get your head in the game after the weekend lull (that's if your weekend was dull). Mondays are synonymous with reports, lots of meetings and appeasing clients for being deliberately incommunicado for the duration of the weekend.

I can’t help myself. I loathe Mondays.
Do you feel me? Or am I the only one who curses the first work day of the week?

Everything Happens For a Reason

I have not been a happy person.

I am not the type to wake up singing ‘I gat a feeling, that today’s gonna be a great day’. I don’t sing in the rain and don’t see the glass half full. You want sweetness and overflowing delight, move over to the lady in the adjourning cubicle, she’s your woman.

I work with plans and schedules. Everything has its place and must at all cost stick to the schedule I have created. No room for accidents, mishaps or incidentals. Everything must wait its turn.

Yep, I’m a planner.

So it was with great annoyance that my month of September was spent running from pillar to post, putting out fires and dealing with unplanned situations. It all started with the birth of my sister’s baby.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore my sister and her kids but the baby coming disrupted my careful planning. Her birth meant my mum moved out and into her home, taking with her all the luxurious advantages of living with a parent. In simple terms, I became the responsible adult I wasn’t planning to be, at least not yet.

1. I had to run my family home for 2 months. No financial assistance from anywhere which was a major strain on my finances
2. My laptop suddenly packed up and I had to purchase another one cos I had school work to do
3. My leave was shortened and postponed (aaaargh)
4. My car battery died, leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere. Talk about perfect timing!!!
5. The steering rack of my car began to act up. Money, Money, Money
6. My front tires began leaking arbitrarily so ….
7. And finally, my side mirror was totally annihilated 2 days ago.

Yeah, it’s been a financially tasking month. And I am so glad it’s over.

The month of July gave me a ton of heartache and tears but my September left a major dent in my wallet.

My colleagues and friends say I should look at the bright side, I’m alive, I have the funds to solve all the problems that have arisen thus far and I should be thankful.

Hmmmmmm. Be grateful right? It could have been worse, I know, but what happens to the plans I made prior to the nuisance of this September?
Wake me up when September ends. Wishing October brings back my smile, my mood and my lost joy.

Happy October

The Package

The person who came up with the adage ‘Don’t Judge A Book By Its Cover’ must have had a life changing experience.

It’s often the case with us humans to make an instant judgment about people within the first 5 – 10 minutes of meeting them. We pick up the subtle clues from body language and mannerisms to make an instant decision on what will determine the next phase of the encounter. Books would tell you first impressions are the ones that last the most so you need to put your foot forward at all times and be careful of the vibes you send.

I often find that I make up my mind about people within the first 10 minutes of meeting them. Those who happen to land on my irritated list, tend to work a whole lot harder at convincing me of my error in mislabeling them. If I don’t like you, it would take a message from God to persuade me otherwise.

You would be amazed at the things I could pick up as a reason why I do not like a person. Reasons range from
- Smiled too much
- Didn’t stand straight
- Too strong perfume
- Bad hairdo
- Humorless
- Choice of conversation

So it was just my luck that one cloudy day from work I met this fascinating young gentleman; real interesting, funny, good diction and easy on the eyes. I don’t usually talk to strangers especially on the bus but his introduction into our talk caught me off guard and pricked my curiosity. I was so engrossed in our talk that I missed my busstop. My colleague also in the bus had to call my attention so I wouldn’t miss the next stop. We exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up sometime within the week.

Unfortunately for me, I became the office joke and my colleagues gave me grief for a few weeks after that singular action. I didn’t mind it though; I had finally found someone worth my time.

I was on a lucky streak, my impressions were on point. Polite, articulate, gentlemanly, courteous. I was walking on sunshine for a week. I saw beautiful babies, imagined house hunting and decorating (yes o, after just a week). Prayers answered, I danced the funky chicken every night.

Month 2, I got slapped. Bitch slapped.

My perfect gentleman was married. Imagine my surprise. The worst part was that I got bitch slapped by baby mama number 2. Like seriously!!!

Yeah seriously. Don’t know how I missed the signs.

Maybe I was blinded by my picture. My ideal man. The razzmatazz that I didn’t notice things like character and integrity. Or even have a conversation that was meaningful before daydreaming about babies.

The bitch slap hurts till this day cos it’s my reality jolt to look past the façade and discover the hidden potentials that perhaps lies within a short, balding, sweaty, rotund man.

Hidden treasures I’m told to find.

Adults Only

As I sat in the hall I wondered what the hell I was doing here.

The room was filled with 18 - 20 something year olds paying rapt attention to the man speaking in front of the room. His lips are moving but for the life of me I can't focus on what he's saying. His lips were moving and for a moment I looked around to confirm that he was actually speaking. Yes, he was cos I heard the lady beside me chuckle and nod in agreement.

Ok, so I'm the one with the problem. I need to snap back to reality.

"For your assignment, you'll have to conduct an audit for your chosen organization" he was saying. "You remember how to go about conducting a secondary research?" No response. Did anyone not take the class in market research? He asked.

I raised my hand in reflex. That was my first mistake. You know you're old or the most intelligent when your classmates take your business card/contact details at the end of a class.

I choose to accept the former. I feel old. If we were to trade stories during the break I'd be talking about pitches, closing business deals and my experience of working with various state governments and what would I expect as a follow-up conversation? my classmates asking me for job openings at my office. Yep, I’m old.

I should not be taking this class. What am I doing here? Yes, I'm a bit condescending but really, this adult education business is exhausting. I should be home with my family, resting, bonding, clearing my head and preparing for the coming week. Shish.

I hate school. Hated it at 12, at 18 and I still hate it even now. Whoever said things got better with age didn't go back to school after 28.

*Deep sigh*. I miss my bed and its 8am on a Saturday morning. I quietly excuse myself like I’m going to the bathroom and never look back. Who needs the torture of adult education anyways? I certainly don't.

Good riddance.

Now We're In A Relationship

Women love definitions, we love to put labels on everything so it sits right. We want to know where we stand in our relationships with the opposite sex so we read meanings into everything. Things just don't happen; every event and conversation is inadvertently linked. Or so we think.

We go with a guy to a wedding and automatically we see ourselves as his girlfriend. He invites us for a service at his church and we start wondering if he's just parading us to the sisters in church as a sign for them to keep off. We go for a family function, to which he has invited all his friends and we jump to the conclusion that he wants us to meet his family. Laughable right!

The mind of a woman. Navigating this treacherous minefield is an exercise in futility. You never come out alive so why bother. Trust me; you don’t know the half of what goes on in our minds.

Here I thought that women were a rare breed. We were special because of our antics and our skills in making mountains out of molehills; our ability to use tears and sometimes blackmail to get what we want out of each other and our men. This belief was firmly shattered by my new found Prince Charming. I never knew Princes read meanings into everything!!!

An accidental broadcast inviting my contacts for a church event awoke the sleeping attentions of my Prince turned Stalker. He automatically assumed I was coming around to his advances.

"So when are you picking me up and which service are we going for 7am or 9am?"
Say what? "I'm not going anywhere with you" was my immediate response.

And so began my back and forth discussion at 3.30am on a Sunday morning. He sure knows how to pick the wrong time to start a conversation.

This was not his first attempt to get me to go to church with him. Every time I said No to his ‘marriage proposal’ he always countered it with "Let’s go to church together, to show you I’m serious”. I didn’t know going to church together, for a guy, was a sign in the dating world for serious contenders.

"I've always said we should go to church together and finally you've invited me, why are you taking it back? Or you don't want to go with me because you're going with someone else? Why are you treating me so? Why is your heart closed? Remember, I don't have a car so I'll be waiting for your call."

"Dude, it was a broadcast, sent to all my contacts. Quit deluding yourself and go to bed".

He finally hung up when he realized I stopped responding and snored loudly into the phone.

"I’m going for a naming ceremony, please come with me. I’ve told all my friends about you and I want to introduce you to them". Sometimes I wonder if I should learn his language so as to communicate better my disinterest in ever going anywhere with him or my utter distain and disrespect for him and all that he stands for.

But seriously, who came up with this rule that going to church together makes you a couple? Or going for occasions automatically makes you a prime candidate for a relationship let alone marriage. If anyone has seen that rule book kindly scan some pages as evidence.

For a lady, running off tangent and reading meanings into everything, is mildly acceptable just because of the way we are wired; but this attitude from a dude, it’s totally unacceptable and reeks of desperation.

Please correct me if I'm wrong.

The Stalker

I had a day. You know one of those days that you’re at your wits end; you can explode at the least provocation so all you wanted to do was get home, curl into bed, sleep and forget.

The drive home, fortunately was smooth, otherwise, all the drivers on the way would have experienced my representation of road rage. As I drove in and shut the gate, I heard a knock at the gate. Who would be knocking at this late hour I remembered thinking. The dog was having a field day barking away and that was contributing to the pounding in my head.

I looked through the peephole and lo and behold it was Prince Charming. I prayed for strength.

He knocked and knocked but I refused to open. I was honestly terrified. “How did he find out where I lived”? I was home alone; as the continued to knock I began to imagine some horrible scenarios where I’m gutted and the last words I’ll ever hear would be ‘If I don’t have you, no one else will”.

When all became silent, I cautiously opened the gate and confirmed he had left. Relief.

Then the calls began.

I finally picked.
“Why didn’t you open the gate? You saw me coming towards you and you closed the gate on my face.” “I’m only trying to be nice to you. Why won’t you let me in?” According to him, he waited for me and finally spotted me driving in, so he came to say ‘hi’.

He went on to emphasize that he brought some shoes for me to select. This was his way of telling me to take him seriously – I am capable.

I let him have it. There were no restraints in my voice or choice of words neither was I civilized. At the end of my speech which was a combination of insults and name calling, this stalking was definitely at its end. No self respecting guy would take accept being called desperate or compared to a woman.

After my tirade, he said he was only trying to tell me he’d bought me a pair of shoes and wanted to be sure they’d fit since he wasn’t sure what my size was. He later sent the pictures of the shoes and apologized for stalking.

When I opened the picture, they looked horrible.
I called to confirm the worst and yes , they were Okirika.

It was finally over.

What Part of NO Don’t You Understand

I said no, I moved on and thought that was the end of it. Boy was I wrong.

Apparently when I said ‘No’ he heard ‘Give me time to think’.

My mind was further made up when on my way home he emphasized his jealous and possessive streak in his relationships. He was a go getter, focused and committed. If I were smarter, I could have read between the lines but I brushed it off.

Yesterday, I had 10 missed calls from Prince Charming. Yes 10, between the hours of 8am – 10am. Another 10 missed calls between the hours of 9pm and 10pm.

I finally picked at 10pm.

My ears were bombarded with a 5 minutes nonstop tirade.

“Why didn’t you pick my calls?”
“Why haven’t I heard from you?”
“Don’t you care about me? I have made my intentions known.”
“I’m old enough to marry and I want to marry you. Why are you not taking me seriously?”
“Is it because I don’t have money?”
‘Are you one of those girls that lead a guy on for a long time only to tell him later you don’t want a relationship?”
“Don’t you like me?”
“Your old enough to settle down so why are you playing games?”

It was all I could do to control myself. I have been practicing anger management and I was close to exploding when I thought, ‘he’s not worth it’.

"Hey Prince Charming, I don’t think you heard me the last time. I am not interested. I don’t think there’s a language barrier here. I don’t want to have a relationship with you and I don’t want to know you better. Leave me alone." Hope he gets it this time.

Help me out people, how else can a girl say NO?

The Wooing

It was a late Friday evening. The shops were closing for the day and I was rushing to make it to the last store down the street that still had lights on. I was in luck as I barely made it and walked away smiling carrying my dinner and breakfast.

Unbeknownst to me, I was being followed.

In the movies, the guy follows the girl home and tries to get her number. This is always the first step in wooing. It was late and in a hurry so I obliged.

Let the games begin.

2 days after the nighttime encounter, we had our first sighting. He looked ok. Except for the bloodshot eyes, smokers lips and a few bad teeth (me and bad toothed men *rolling my eyes*), I decided there wasn’t any need to seat too close to the exits – we just might have a nice evening out after all.

I wish I had sat close to an exit. I could have feigned going to the bathroom and disappeared. It was like staring in a very bad Nollywood movie, the type I would break the disc and flush the remains in the toilet. Thank God it was dark; I rolled my eyes so many times I thought my eyes would roll out of their sockets.

Within minutes of landing in our seats, my ears were ringing. I knew his life story, his parents’ names, why and how he lost his job, his age, his desire to get married, and his failed relationships (all within the same street!). I ordered a Chapman and hurriedly downed the drink so I could hasten up the entire evening.

His ramblings finally landed on Amaka, his love that got away; the poor dude couldn’t wrap his head around what went wrong. Being the love doctor that I am, I devoted my time to discussing his love interest all in a bid to get the evening over and done with.

Then out of nowhere he says ‘So, what do you think? I want us to have a serious relationship leading to marriage’. Say what? Yes, I was taken aback cos barely seconds ago I was consoling the poor chap about the love of his life and now this!

If you were the last man on earth I would still say HELL NO, my evil twin screamed inside me, but I offered a polite smile, said no.

I was finally free. I was blunt enough to express myself politely and clearly and I was really proud of the fact that my alter ego remained locked up. In the real world, No means No. apparently Prince Charming had a totally different idea of the word NO.

And so it began.

The Haunting - Introduction

Ladies are suckers for the fairytale. A man to sweep them off their feet, dote on them, be attentive and available to them whenever they need. To find such a man, in a woman’s world, is to have struck gold. And for as many who get to experience the fairytale romance, they get to die happy and fulfilled women.

Yes, we all want that fairytale. I caution though, be careful what you wish for.

I love the great romances. The classic and modern love stories. The moment when the boy and girl meet and you just know that this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship. *deep sigh*.

Life in the movies and real life are very much opposites, but a girl can dream. I sometimes dream of meeting Mr. Right and just knowing that this was my Prince Charming, we would look into each other’s eyes and just know we were meant to be together forever. Yes, I’m a romantic at heart, but a cynic in reality. It’s all make-believe created to sell movies.

I just realized that some guys share the fairytale, love you forever dream. Who would have thought?

So it was just my dumb luck that I had the misfortune of meeting my very own Prince Charming. One of them die-harders who have watched one too many romantic movies that ends with the guy getting the girl after being persistent. The patient dog doesn’t always get to eat anything; it often dies from starvation – that’s the imagery in my mind.

Within the next couple of days I’ll share my experience of being ‘haunted’ by my rejected Prince Charment.

Enjoy.

Them Pearly Whites

There are many ways of saying hello without saying it outright. My favorite form of hello is a smile.

A smile could mean different things and elicit different responses. For instance it could mean back off you imp, pay me another compliment cos you’re in the zone brother or I’m shy but I really like you. All you have to do is read the corresponding body language and you can tell your next course of action –fight or flee.

I love smiles. It’s an interesting pastime for me and I often find myself staring and watching people around me so I can catch a glimpse of them pearly whites and try to decipher what they just might be thinking at the moment of the smile.

Not too long ago, I found myself in a room filled with people and instead of participating in the various conversations going on around me, I picked a seclude spot and watched the smiling and scowling faces around the room. (Yes, I’m weird like that).

I could tell those who were genuinely enjoying themselves, those tolerating their companions and those who had the come hither smiles plastered on their faces (they had things other than healthy conversation on their minds).

Someone was staring at me. I was so lost in thought that I hadn’t realized I was being watched also; I felt a little embarrassed. I looked up and he didn’t look away. He walked slowly and purposely towards me all spotless and unwrinkled in his fitting white shirt (I could tell he worked out). This was a well built brother, tall, slender, a blend between white chocolate and creamy coffee – my spec.

I couldn’t believe I was blushing. Me! never would I have thought I would see the day. But there I was, bashfully smiling when he got close enough to speak. Hi, my name is Femi.

That was the last thing I heard.

Was I overwhelmed by his beauty? Swept away by his charm? Quite the opposite.

I didn’t hear a word of what he said cos of his teeth. It was a mess in there. Talk about decayed and greenish teeth. As he spoke and I cried within me at another waste of man I tried to imagine him kissing me even if it were on the wrist and I choked on my drink spilling it on myself. That way my cue to make a hasty exit and I took it.

After all said and done, It’s all in the teeth.

The Abyss

You know you’re upset when an overwhelming sadness envelops you, a huge knot forms in your chest making it difficult to breath with ease and you just want to snap at any and everyone from the least provocation.

At least that’s how a feel.

For me, there’s no greater feeling of loathing and joy all wrapped into one than at the moment when you give into the feelings of stewing anger. It’s a bitter sweet feeling that as much as I dread those moments have come to subtly welcome.

It is at those moments I am allowed to be mean and nasty; and all this can be hidden under the disguise of anger. I realize that people tend to make excuses for your behavior when you’re angry. They stay out of your way and sometimes the unpleasant ones become nice. I have come to love those moments when I can get away with anything.

My guilty pleasure at these unfortunate moments is to wallow within the soft caresses of comfort food – ice cream, chips, cake, soft drinks, chocolate, cookies – you name it. Any and every junk food forbidden to me on a normal day just seems to materialize and offer me some semblance of joy, however short lived.

I have long since mastered emotional eating - the act of stuffing your feelings down with food; I eat feel guilty and then punish my body and mind – my body is tormented by an exercise instructor for over 1 hour afterwards and my mind is tortured with accusation and reproach afterwards. Why then do I keep doing this to myself you might wonder. Why give into the forceful gripping hands of anger and self pity?

Why the hell not?

Because I’m human. Because unlike, you I have failed to master my emotions. Because, I am tired and I need to cut myself a break sometimes. Because maybe I just want to indulge in the excesses of junk food that I don’t normally allow myself. Because I am a troubled soul and can only understand the abyss that is self pity.

Just because …

Happy Work Anniversary

Today I woke early and it felt like a good day. A good day for me doesn't come always so i cherish those rare moments when from the moment your feet hits the ground you can say 'Today Is Going To Be a Good Day'.

It was spectacular in a big way but thankfully the day sprinted to a close just when I thought I was about to lose my cool. I was screamed at at work but surprisingly smiled all through the ordeal - I can't remember ever being so calm in similar situations. Maybe I'm high on life?

It made me wonder though how long one should to continue to swallow crap all in the name of paid employment.

Today marks another anniversary in the grind and I find myself asking 'What the hell am i still doing here?' Is it the fear of the unknown that keeps me so rooted or I just haven't realized how much i love it here?


Today was a good day, I hope I can say the same about tomorrow.

The Grind Called Work

Its upsetting to know that you work your whole life fulfilling someone else's dreams but never have the time to build and live your dream.

This activity called work is so time consuming that if we do not give ourselves room for pause, when the final moments come we just might have nothing to show for the days and years spent here.

We built your dream, who gets to build ours?

Abeg, Live Your Life

It seems like those who pamper their lives die faster. My Italian friend, a chain smoker, does not heed that warning on cigarette packs - that smokers are liable to die young. "The man who wrote that warning," he tells me, "was writing it with the right hand and smoking with the left." And he is approaching 80, this smoker!

We're more likely to lose the things we cherish to save. The young girl with an unwanted pregnancy never has miscarriage. The married woman pregnant after years of waiting risks losing it if she laughs too hard. Life is like that.

The rough guy in school who hardly read his books, who was written off for being too adventurous and reckless, is the owner of that new bubbling firm. Among his workers are the erstwhile efficos in class. Life is like that.

Back then in the village, one young man used to chase snakes wherever he saw them. His bravery was too risky. The animals appeared to have developed a biological alert for his presence, fleeing from his trouble whenever. Yet they routed their revenge towards his colleague who feared them, and once planted venom in his veins.

The mad man lives longer by rotten food. The wayward girl marries the most eligible bachelor in the neighborhood, while her "virtuous" peers sometimes wait longer. The Casanova wins the best girls. Life is like that.

Even Christ said it, that he who saves his life shall lose it!

Point is: there is no absolute rule or formula in life. One man advances by discretion; another, by indifference, and both can reach the same goal. Live your life!
Immanuel James Ibe-Anyanwu

A SONG FOR JULY

Another month has ended.
Another chapter closed.
Dreams and plans upended.
Hopes quashed or relived.

I’m thankful for the little things
The medium and big things too;
The weird twists my life has made within these 30 days.

I should be sad and bitter
I should be hurt and closed
If only you knew what I have seen
You’d shrug and hold me close.

I’ve sighed, I’ve cried,
I’ve lied, I’ve died
In more ways than one;
But through it all up right I stand and still refuse to cower

It’s not my strength nor is it my will
That keeps me moving on
It’s just God’s grace I can’t erase no matter how I fall

A few true friends, a few close mates
Keep pushing me each day
To see the best and receive God’s grace
With every passing day.

July is gone, today it ends
I’m glad to see you go
And I hope and pray to find God’s grace
As August bids Welcome