Once upon a JJC

Hiiiiii, 

It's me again, the reluctant Lagosian😊. No, this isn't a “Diary of a New Lagos Wife” entry. Just me, reminiscing

In the spirit of throwback, the JJC has clocked one year in a town she labelled strange. A year in and she can hardly wait to get out. My first time in Lagos wasn't exactly as dramatic as I'd expected it to be. I mean, all my life, I've stayed in the north only visiting some regions which did not cover the western side region. It also didn't help that I didn't exactly have the right notion of Lagos. It was always portrayed in the negative light; "shine your eyes o", "hide your phone o", "don't ask questions, don't ever give yourself away as a JJC". Phew, the cautions were (and still) many. Don't do this, don't do that. Have I mentioned the traffic? Geez, but I won't  go there. It's old news. 

Considering how I'd come from a relatively sane and serene environment, I kept wondering how I'd cope in this jungle. This no man's land. And then one day, it hit me. When the children of Israel left Egypt for the promised land, what was their instruction? Possess it. So I told myself to possess the land and speak into it. Lagos will not give me trouble, I will enjoy myself here and to the fullest. I realized that a whole lot of patience and guidance from the Holy Spirit was gonna be needed to live here in peace and soundness of mind. And gisting about my experiences definitely does help. 

So back to my first visit. It'd been after my dad's burial, I needed to not go to work immediately. So I detoured to Ajah where I hid my face from the world for a while. That first trip was quite uneventful, seeing as I practically went nowhere. But, I was finally in Lagos, that was what counted. . 

As it were, fate had its own plans too and so it was that I landed here, the land of the “buzzites” (busy bees), vampires, night crawlers and face changers. Nah, just messing with you 😀 

And that's that, ciao. 
My diary entries still continue here (Please tap on the link), that's where most of my Lagos living are journalled. 

Be safe, burbye...

Princess Warrior

So many fights

So many battles 

The greatest I fear

Is the battle of self

I have an ongoing battle 

One I thought

I won a long time ago

A pyrrhic victory at best

But a victory nonetheless

Alas I fear, 

An old enemy's risen.

From the shadows

It had been banished to,

It arises

But fear not, 

For this time, 

It shall be conquered 

Once and for all.

Once and for good, 

Shall it be conquered.

                                  ***

My note indicates that I penned this at 11:58am on 24th December 2013. Hmm, it's been three years. And I was at work. I recall the circumstances that surrounded that scribble.

Everyone's got a demon they battle daily; personal demons, work demons, financial demons. For some, it may be anger, depression, lust, envy, pride, name it. God gives us the victory daily.

Peace...

SOTD "New Dawn Fades" by Joy Division 

Christmas, here I come

"Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree you stand in verdant beauty." Fret not, I know it ain't Christmas yet, just testing my vocal chords to see if they still work fine (after screaming myself hoarse last night). Christmas' nearly upon us and I'm thinking, where did the year go? 2017 was fast. Too fast. Yesterday I was screaming happy new year and now...wow. I remember my days of listening to carols and religiously memorising them like my life depended on it, 😂 I and my sissy. Life was beautiful then. Not that it ain't now, but childhood innocence counts for something.

So, the year's rounding off once again to another close - glory to God. Is it too early to say merry Christmas? 😁 Merry Christmas. Please, just take it like that. 

😘 

Peace

Moments

It's not everyday one gets to meet good people and that's why saying goodbye to this set of people's heart breaking. One of my personal persons had to resign recently  and I miss her already. But that's life yeah? Coming and going. Today we meet people and tomorrow we say goodbye, sad.

Well, here's to baby girl, I wish you the best in all of your future endeavours. She was a sweet girl.

Frank Friday: Midnight Escapades

The things that happen at midnight are better left unsaid but I think my activities are innocuous enough to be talked about lol. I once used to be an active night crawler (nah, not in that way), I mean a night owl. Night time was when I was very active.

That year in school while men slept, Linda cooked, Linda washed, Linda mopped, Linda listened to loud music, Linda did a lot of things in that odd hour. My roommates heard it sha, lol. In my opinion, night time is divine. The silence and stillness, everywhere's so calm.

By night time I mean midnight. In this clime, the midnight hour's associated with a lot of terribles (is that a word please?); as that's when evil thrives under cover of darkness, and all. Midnight hour's that doorway between the living and dead. Yep, I said it. A doorway between the known and the unknown, the banal and the mystical. That hour where anything's possible. It's like a special time when anything can happen. Many folklore associate the midnight hour with magic; tales of mystic, mystery and a certain touch of awe. The dead come back to walk among the living, the pretty maiden changes back to her 'real' form, the wolf-man changes its form, skinchangers and other monsters walk upon the earth's surface. Whew, I could go on and on but I'm not Dean Koontz and the rest. It's when all the magic happens sha, you get.

Simply put, the midnight hour is the best of times to be productive (my opinion). It's the best of times to pray, to listen, to meditate and to strategise. The midnight hour's a time to recharge and reboot by sleeping (for those who don't appreciate what the hour connotes) and I wrote that in the most condescending of tones by the way. I mean, how can you not appreciate that hour? Lol, I kid biko cos I'm now team sleep (on good days). I'd better enjoy it while stock lasts.

It's time I switched off now, it's 1:52 am btw. I've burnt my midnight oil to the ground and my hour's up. Just thought to pen this down.

Ciao...
I had fun scaring folks with that photo😂😹
Oh, and I've got cold. Again. Dunno how the virus keeps getting me😐😑

Miss Cally

Ah, Calabar my Calabar...I'll one day write a poem for you. There are few places you go where you can say home sweet home. For me, Calabar was one of those. You know how you meet certain people and you just have an instant connection? That's what happened between I and Cally. My dream city's what I call her. Going to Calabar was like coming home. I don't have any roots there sef but these things happen; inexplicable connection to places and people.

My mandatory one year service took me to Calabar and I was instantly hooked. Well, I took myself there cos I redeployed from my original state of service. I've loved Calabar from afar and it was one of the Nigerian cities I'd longed to visit, so when I saw the opportunity, I pounced on it.

KrossKopa

Jos is another place I'd like to also visit but seeing Calabar and living there's calmed my thirst. For now. You'd be surprised at my reasons for loving Cally, but love's love. There's a casualness to Cally that I like. Those people know how to take life easy. Oh, and they know how to enjoy life, like really enjoy it (story for another day).

Chilling after watching a match at the stadium. AFCON qualifier I think.

This match.

Everywhere I turned to, it was a park, more like a garden park, everywhere for chilling. Infact, it's a garden state. Every inch of ground's well tended and groomed. I'm sure it's serene environment's specially groomed to drive business. You know Cross River's known for its tourist attractions hence, everything has to work to promote the touristy feel. They did eat my money and made me spend more, but I didn't mind. Yeah, it's quite an expensive place to live in with limited employment/business opportunities (believe me, I tried getting a job). Most of the businesses there are concentrated in the hospitality industry. This again is due to the state's appellation as a destination spot for touristy tourists.

Entrance to my *PPA.

I really did enjoy Calabar. The people are friendly, cuisine's on point. I learnt how to eat white rice with pepper soup instead of tomatoes sauce by force. There's a dearth of tomatoes over there that's why (so I was told).

My *boli joint for when I couldn't bear to down white rice and pepper soup.

Not so clear but quite enjoyable. Especially liked the herbal leaves used, forgotten the name. It was slightly bitter. 

My journey to a healthy lifestyle started in Cally. I learnt to eat more fruits and veggies there. I even learnt to enjoy watermelon and cucumber. Two things I'd previously hated with passion. All my memories of Calabar are beautiful, thanks to amazing friends as well. I couldn't tour the *state as I'd intended due to financial constraints but I have no regrets.

And yes, I did make friends (surprise). They were that friendly and open too. They're not closed off like my Abuja people of which I'm one. Witnessed three weddings (could've been more) and turned down an offer to go for a burial ceremony (can't fit shout).

The view from my window, lol. Can't recall what festival. The road was later tarred and my ears heard it.

My stay in Cally was well worth it. It opened my eyes to the finer points of life. It's one aspect of my life I see as a major landmark.

I'm watching Jenifas's diary btw, and it's so frigging hilarious.

Well, what can I say? I had an awemazing service year in Cally and I promise to share more about it on my 5th year serviceverssary which will be June 2nd or is it 6th? I forget. Just stay tuned.💋

The pictures ain't exactly snazzy I know. Didn't have a blog and an audience in mind when I took them. Bear with me mbok.

*PPA: Primary Place of Assignment where during the mandatory one year service, you're attached to a School/Company/Organisation to give back to your Fatherland.
*Boli: Roasted Plantain
*Crossriver.

Lil. Ms. Poochie

 

It was a gloomy day with dark clouds, a blistering wind and an even darker mood. I had refused every offer of warmth and obstinately set out in quest of my dog, little Ms. Poochie. Lil Ms. had never stayed out this long and I was beginning to worry. In spite of the cold and cough that wracked my tiny frame, I was determined to find her. You see, my lil Ms. had once saved me and now it was my turn to save her.

I was a lonely child, sad and bitter and angry with the world. I was the one to always get into trouble and always the one to bring home bad news. My tanta says I'm the harbinger of evil. Even at birth, I killed my own mother. How evil could I get?

Thus branded, I was careful to not do anything to draw attention to myself; I kept to myself and endeavoured to always be on my best behaviour but trouble always seemed to follow me around confirming tanta's opinion of me. I was desolate and devised several means to write off my life but I was too cowardly to follow through. And then one day, lil Ms. hobbled into my life. I took to her instantly. 

Like me, she had been battered and looked half starved. Her ear was torn and bleeding, I presumed she had been involved in a dog fight. You see, dogs like humans share a lot in common even though I sometimes think they're smarter, the big dogs pick on the smaller and weaker dogs. Now I know why they call it a dog-eat-dog world, that statement had always puzzled me.

Lil Ms. was my saviour in many ways, I learnt to know what it meant to be loved and to love, I learnt to laugh and to play (lil Ms. says I ought to play all day, that it's my right). Above all, I learnt to forgive.

One day, my tanta had beaten me for no good reason and banished me from her presence. I was forbidden to cry before her and so poured it all on poor lil Ms. I kicked at her and bawled out my eyes, I could tell that she was hurt with the way she looked at me just as she hobbled off.

I was sorry to see her go but was too mad to care. After I had calmed down, I went looking for her in all her favourite places; at the pond where she liked to bark at the ducks, at the flower bed where she pretended to be a pretty flower and at the churchyard where she liked to lie and gaze up at the sky, but she wasn't there.

Now I was worried, it would rain soon and I had yet to find lil Ms. My lil Ms. never liked rainstorms, they drove her crazy. I remember her restless pacing, how she used to whimper and howl, I must find her before the storm broke. I'm sorry lil Ms. Please come back.

Now I'm crying, the tears mingling with the rain. I was sorry I'd shouted at her and kicked her. I was sorry I had thrown stones at her. I was sorry I had treated her as my tanta had treated me. I was sorry for it all. I was even more sorry cos she didn't deserve it, she who had loved me with dog-like devotion, I'm sorry lil Ms.

*In loving memory of Cornell.

Photo Credits: Pentaxuser, Flickr.

Frank Friday: Ramblings, Mutterings and What Nots

Gosh, I feel so fagged out. I laughed long and loud in my head at that expression. The last time I used that was in my secondary school days. Oh those were the days. We had a variety of slangs at our disposal that our speech never lost its flavoured touch.

There was never a boring gist. Whose gist would be boring when one had such an arsenal of northern spiced slangs to choose from? Now I'm "irin feeling tech" lol (only my school mates will relate with this).

All of my life, I've stayed in the north and though I don't speak the language, I'm much more northerner than southerner (is that correct? My head's kinda fuddled right now).

It's been a tedious week and I'm undergoing a spell of laziness with this blog. No, I don't think it's laziness, I don't just have enough energy to expend on it right now I think. Will be back with a bounce I promise. Once I'm done figuring out my life that is. I'm always having to figure out my life I don't understand again o, shuo. Am I alone in this? Anyways, just promise you'll wait for me? *batseyelashes* tashakor.

Cheers...

Photo Credit: Nil

(Of course it'd be nil. Did you see any photo there?) Lol

Burning Bush and Other Stories

On a certain road trip, I came across a scene -a long forgotten practice that put a smile on my face- bush burning. Not just any bush burning, bush burning with the intent of killing Rats, Rabbits, Grasscutters and any/all unfortunate resident(s) of a bush. All these are what we refer to as bush meat, a delicacy. If you haven't eaten bush meat, I wonder for you.

So, I saw this teenagers (boys of course, they're the hunters) armed with their sticks in a semi circle, ready to deal a deadly blow to any unfortunate victim that comes running out. Now I wonder if I felt sorry for the hapless creatures back in the days when I participated in this hunting expeditions. Ok, I didn't participate in the hunting per se but I did watch (from a safe distance), so I was more or less a passive participant lol. At least, I wasn't part of the welcome party. Those were the ones who stayed back home but wanted part of the goodies.

I spent a growing up part of my years in a barrack. So when word made the rounds that the neighbourhood boys were going ahunting, I also made haste to catch up with them. This was the closest I came to a hunting experience and boy oh boy did I enjoy it. The thrill and the excitement of the chase, I feel I'd have ruptured in sheer delight should I have been an active participant cos these feelings alone came from mere observing.

They set a portion of the bush on fire and then position themselves around the periphery. Sticks, Clubs, Hoes (anything capable of delivering a sure blow) held high waiting for the helpless creatures fleeing uncertain death and into seemingly safety, but instead, into the arms of certain death.

Now, uncertain death in the sense that they may have had a 50-50 chance of survival if only by burrowing or just staying put. But you know animals, instead, they panick and run into the waiting arms and weapons of mass destruction the boys (survival instincts though, sheesh).

Sometimes, we humans do this too. When things aren't going so well; our fortunes change or something like that, we panick and then make wrong decisions that only puts us into bigger trouble. From frying pan into the fire, remember that saying? It's best to remain put, waiting out the storm while scoping out your options. But some of us just can't wait, I know. I struggle with waiting too but waiting's an essential part of life. You'd be surprised at what it births.

I don't think I'd enjoy such sport again. But seeing those boys and the burning bush just brought back the memories.

P.S: Panick=Panic.

Photo Credit: Africa Geographic Magazine