Valentine gift.

Yeye girl,
How e come be say na you dey control my mumu button like how Okocha dey gum ball to im boot as twenty defenders dey chase am? You wey no even fine like that sef, with your k-leg and opolo eye and you no even dey try draw your eyebrow like your mates them. No be say na the better cloth you dey wear or long hair wey you kukuma get. No be say you no get your good points sha but I dey suspect say jazz dey involved for this matter. Continue reading →

Man Vs. Machine- it won…

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.


That’s how my Saturday went, tell me about yours.

Of Bridges and Mortality

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 →

Guest Post- Wayne Rooney, Writers Block and Random Ramblings.

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 →

Pain might fade.

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 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 →