This post has been sitting pretty in my drafts since June 30th, I wrote it at a time I found myself writing about marriage a whole lot. I decided to shelve it until another time and I guess that time is now…
Recently, I was having a conversation with a much older man about marriage and a woman’s place in the home. If you know me well- or at least read my blog regularly, you’d know that I do not believe in having specific gender roles in a marriage.
Continue reading “I am not Wife Material… And It’s ok.”
The title of this post should be woman vs. machine because the story is about a woman but I wanted to keep the M vs. M theme, so M vs. M it is.
Earlier today I was at the Nedoux Sewing Club which held somewhere in Lagos and I got to meet Nedu! And fifteen or so other fabulous ladies who obviously had a keen interest in sewing. I loved the class, Nedu was splendid- she made sure she carried everyone along and the course was engaging and interesting. This isn’t so hard, I thought and irony laughed hard at me.
It was the machines, the sewing machines- I used two! that robbed me of my triumph or was it satisfaction? It got so bad that I couldn’t stand to stay and watch others fly while I couldn’t even crawl, so I went out and got myself a drink and something to eat (I have to stop using junk food as an emotional clutch) and I called F who encouraged me to go back and make one more try.
It didn’t end as we hoped, I had to leave before I collapsed in a heap of tears and frustration (I hope Nedu forgives me for bailing like that). The journey back calmed me, helped me put things in perspective and I no longer felt like the biggest failure on earth (interestingly, I watched a talk by JK Rowlings on failure an hour ago on facebook. I feel much better now).
Will I still attempt another battle against the beautiful sewing machine? Not anytime soon, I need to recover from this one first. Apart from meeting Nedu and admiring her legs all through the class, I took some pictures that I absolutely love.
Just before I left home…
That’s how my Saturday went, tell me about yours.
The bus stops at the bridge in front of the National Stadium and you come down, there’s a woman at the back of the bus who’s insulting the conductor. You don’t linger to hear the end of the argument, it had started even before you boarded at Anthony bus stop and it will continue until she gets tired of shouting at him. You’re very grateful to have gotten to Stadium without losing a limb, the driver had driven with the speed of a man who was pursued by a vengeful ex girlfriend.
Continue reading “Of Bridges and Mortality”
Uchechukwu, my most annoying and most beloved (except Dede Udoka sha) cousin sent me a post yesterday and commanded me to share it on my blog. Even though he’s barely four months older than me, he likes to bully me. Anyway here’s Uche with his hilarious post, I’ll look for the last picture we took together and put it up too.
For the record, I must confess that nobody send me any message. As we are won’t to do in this part of the world whenever we are not willing to admit our failings- I blame Buhari. I was on my own, jejely, enjoying the recession when the foolish thought of writing came to my mind. Being the bored busy-body that I am and having never learnt to resist my more foolish urges, I quickly grabbed pen and paper. That was Friday morning. This is Monday morning and I have not written anything that WAEC would not see and demand that I return the certificate. Continue reading “Guest Post- Wayne Rooney, Writers Block and Random Ramblings.”
I wrote about regret a month or two ago, talking about how regret was necessary and no one should be ashamed of regret. However in her comment, Timi of the thelivelytwist.com(one of my many writing mentors- nobody does dialogue like her!) reminded me that the pain of things gone wrong will fade with time and will fade from regret to scar tissue. Continue reading “Pain might fade.”
Don Williams songs were part of the soundtrack of my childhood and You’ve got a hold on me was one of my favourites- even when I didn’t know what the lyrics meant. Continue reading “Lyrically- You’ve Got a Hold On Me”
After the American Vice Presidential debate where one of the issues tabled was abortion, a great debate has raged on social media on the subject. With those who believe no woman should terminate a pregnancy (Pro-lifers) having intense clashes with those who believe that a woman has a choice to determine whether to keep a baby or not and should access to an abortion (Pro-Choicers). Here are my thoughts on the matter.
We can spend days arguing from the Pro-life or Pro-choice points of view, We can sermonise and point fingers or come to blows on the topic but it doesn’t matter, it’s all talk.
Continue reading “Uterus rights”
The sound walked into the ears of each of the men and they jerked in unison as it tickled the nerves encased in the bones of their backs. Your father closed his eyes and put his palms on his head, with his elbows pointing in opposite directions and he jerked again.
The sound continued on its journey as you chewed the kolanut slower than you did before, letting the bitterness fill your mouth and your heart too. Continue reading “Kolanut palaver.”
My mum says there were women who were named Independa, they were born on the first day of October 1960- the day Nigeria attained independence.
Today is their birthday and Nigeria’s too but I’m pretty angry with the way things are here, with the silly progress we have made.
So I wrote a poem for Nigeria, it’s my birthday message to a country I do not love anymore.
Let’s count the stars, you said
But it’s cold outside, I sputtered.
We’ll wrap ourselves in our dreams
And burn tomorrow’s worries and cares, you urged
But I said no.
Continue reading “All gone.”