Feeding the three picky eaters she had given birth to, always required plenty thought, trickery and cunning and if all failed, her weapon of last resort- fried plantains and scrambled eggs would get them to finish the food, leave two or three slices on the plate, or eat the fried eggs and four slices of plantain respectively in order of their births. Continue reading →
Nuttin No Go So was my favourite song when I was 15, I would listen to it several times daily on my brother’s discman. It held me through the twists and turns of teenage angst and uncertainty about impending adulthood and choices.
Then I forgot about it. Continue reading →
Let the music play,
As long we like,
As loud we want,
Will you dance?
I was writing about going to ‘Mango village’ while I was in JSS1 with Glory (I can’t remember if Martha came with us or if she was supposed to be the sentry} but as I wrote, I remembered the story you are about to read and began to write it instead.
When I was in JSS1, I was a bony, big eyed bibliophile who had only one bucket, a green OK plast contraption that provided for all my needs which was only one- washing my body. I washed my clothes at the tap and formed a pouch with my house wear, as other girls did, for taking the clothes to the dormitory without needing a container for them. You didn’t need a bucket of water to flush the toilet, you simply needed a paper or leather (nylon) bag and a good throwing arm for flinging the products of your business far into the corn farms that framed the back of our dormitory. If you were not in the frame of mind to expose your tender buttocks to other girls and most importantly, the teachers in staff quarters who used the road a few meters across from Culverwell, you would brave the faecal landmines to have only the budding ears of corn and God as witnesses to your bowel unloading activities. Continue reading →
This post was supposed to go up yesterday, the twenty-ninth day of December is one of my favourite days in the year, you see- it is the day I get to say my birthday is next tomorrow. This year has been tumultuous, the changes I have been through seem to have been too intense for one year. However I am grateful for a lot of things, maybe more than twenty-nine, maybe less but let’s start… Continue reading →
I met Marie on Timi’s blog when I was featured here. Her blog is lit! (link at the end of the post) and I’m so honoured to have her here. The post should have been up since Friday (which is when I like to put up guest posts) but I had a bout of back pain (the pain killers I’ve been on since Tuesday became ineffective all at once) and I forgot to post it. Enjoy her scintillating post and watch out for Part 2 (as our nollywood brothers will say)
I started to feel concerned about what the outcome of the recent female African Cup of Nations (Afcon) finals hosted by us (Cameroon) could lead to, when I spoke to a former classmate who paid his Nigerian wife’s ‘bride price’ (Africans generally take this seriously and the marriage starts from there) a week before the said finals. I asked him jokingly why they couldn’t have waited until after the Afcon fever, and he said indeed the had planned to wait but when the knew our two countries were once more going to clash at an afcon final, they preferred not to risk the turnout or outright failure of their marriage…