Hi there, I could make up a million and one excuses for why I haven’t really posted anything in a while…but the truth is there isn’t… Or is there?
So basically, the past few months (after summer) has been really horrible. I feel like I was cursed or something. The worst was when my laptop decided to die on me. I took it in for repairs and they said it needed system re-installation and all that crap. Suddenly my laptop hard drive became faulty too.. To cut the long story short, I spent over £170 repairing this thing and lost all my data that was saved on the stupid laptop. To be very honest with you, I cried…like literally cried with tears and everything. All my assignments, essays…everything was gone and all hope was lost. Even my stupid back up hard drive refused to work. At this point, my blood pressure was over the roof to be very honest with you. Stress levels increased and all but luckily for me some of the essays I wanted to submit were still saved in the drafts section of my email; and thank God I had the initiative to save some stuff on my USB drive. The I.T guy who fixed my laptop said it was still possible to get all my work back, but I had to contact some data-retrieving company that would charge me about £500. -_- Well, ain’t nobody got time fo’ that.
That aside, I honestly haven’t made out time for myself. My life is such a mess right now… like tangled thread sorta mess. Plus I haven’t even called my friends in months! Even the ones in school are now on a hi & bye based friendship.. 😦
But then again, ladies and gentlemen, I am alive and well today. Tenk you and bye 🙂 xx
There are so many things I just feel like sharing/telling you guys on this blog (at least those who know that I have a blog anyways); but sometimes I just can’t articulate them (‘them’ being my thoughts) into words. You know…One thing I really like about blogging is that sometimes when you feel the need to talk to someone about something or maybe rant, but you really don’t want to, your blog is always there for you. It acts as a replacement of an individual listening to your every complaint about things that are relevant, irrelevant. and basically every other thing that crosses your mind and stays silent and then you get that feeling of satisfaction or accomplishment when you’re done. Lol, bear in mind that I’m referring to the blog as a human a.k.a personalisation. Get my drift? Lol 🙂
Then again… you may have restrictions, in other words even when you type things up, you may still have doubts about posting it due to sensitivity of issue, it might be way too personal and it’ll just end up being in your drafts till God knows when. I don’t know if it’s just me that does this but when I don’t feel the need to blog about something, I just type it up in Microsoft word and save it as a document. Lol, weird…I know. But it helps or works especially when you want to rant or talk about something and you do not want anyone being all judgemental and all. So it’s basically a way of letting off steam, I think. Lmao, you might as well be saying “why doesn’t she keep a diary then?” Lol, I don’t keep one because of the following:
1) I don’t need to.
2. I think it’s old-fashioned.
3. I see it as a waste of time.
4. I can be a very careless goat sometimes. Lol, someone will DEFINITELY find that diary sooner or later.
5. Don’t you watch movies? When people’s diaries fall into the wrong hands, things go wrong e.g. It’s always used to either blackmail them or it may end up being used as evidence against the individual.
Lmao! That last one was a joke O:) but still…I could care less to be honest. Like I always say, to each his own. One man’s meat is another man’s poison.
There was this quote I saw on Tumblr a few days ago that I think is relevant in a way to this post. It read;
YOU WERE A WRITER
PEN TO PAPER.
JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE NOT WRITING
DOES NOT MEAN YOU WERE NOT WRITING
P.S Thanks to everyone who actually reads my blog. ‘Preciate it. 🙂
“Having those little bouts of depression all of a sudden…”
This is me in a nutshell…basically. Pretty random but yeah.
“Lately I’ve been feeling unable to properly articulate my thoughts and feelings into words that suitably convey them. It’s one of those days when my true introvert takes over and I want to hide under a rock. And not say a word. (I think I’m more of an introvert than an extrovert to be frank with you). On those days, I don’t recognize myself and my own nonchalance confounds me. I want to just sit. Not lie down, just sit and stare. I don’t have the energy to smile and pretend to be happy or to care about conversations I would usually care about. I can’t look those I love in the eyes. Can’t bear to see them so concerned, so perturbed that the ball of cheer they used to know is completely opposite to her usual self. I can’t look at them because most of them will not understand that I just want to be alone. Because I don’t want to bawl and make a fool of myself in public. I can’t tell them that I’m sad because I’m homesick or because no one really understands sometimes.
I can’t say all these because then I sound cliché. Like all those “teenagers”. I can’t listen to myself complain about how lost I feel and how no one understands and so I say “I’m fine” and attempt a smile while I hope they believe the smile. I also hope no one believes my fake smile sometimes because I know I do a really bad job at it and it would be heartbreaking if anyone I knew or was close to was really stupid enough to fall for it. Sometimes when I feel this way, I’m happy because then I can honestly say how I feel about certain things and my ruthlessness feels so good. It surprises me and terrifies me, but the release is so selfishly refreshing. It’s my own hideous oxymoron. I see the surprise and fear reflected in their own eyes and I’m happy to have done a good and proper ruthless job.
Then I go home and sulk quietly. I might write about it and then post it five weeks after because I really don’t want anyone trying to decipher me, or even worse, succeeding. After all mystery is supposed to be attractive.And then I pray. I pray that my God understands that I’m just a teenager with all these hormones and disturbances. I know he sees my true self and my heart and he knows I’m no ruthless person. Well, most times.
And then when the storm has passed, I slowly feel myself bloom. Ever so slowly. And smiling feels real and not like my face is unmoving plastic. And my heart beats better. And I’m happy again. And my friends recognize me. And they pretend that everything I’d said in honesty was just me under the influence. I try to consolidate those things, make them realize the truth, but it really is up to them.”
At the moment, I’m just a happy bunny and I really don’t care.
I really am just trying to express my deepest thoughts in the most non-confrontational way possible. All this preamble is because I want you all to know that if I sound a little annoyed, it’s because I am a tad irritated by this situation and I yearn to set some things straight and discharge any misconceptions.
It’s about Africa; Nigeria. It’s about the gross misrepresentation of Africa and the immensely condescending responses of people who have no idea of what Africa is to her. Where to begin? Africa is a wonderful place with some of the most hospitable people in the world, some of the friendliest and kindest hearts you’ll ever know… at least I can say that about Nigeria. Everyone looks out for everyone. And while it may seem that this results in a great deal of nosiness, it is truly comforting to know that you cannot be attacked in the presence of people whether or not they know you without finding strangers who’ll chase your attackers and recover your lost belongings on your behalf. People will not turn up their noses or shrink back and pretend unawareness when they see you in trouble, regardless of your race.
Yes, I mentioned race. I do not like to talk about race. I’m that person who pretended race did not exist and until I moved continents, the biggest form of racial prejudice I knew was that African parents are not keen on having their children marry white people. Well, most Nigerian parents. They’re terrified of this possibility and while I believe in seeing the person and not the colour, sometimes it’s not even about colour, it’s how the colour and person is raised. You see, Nigerians grow up watching American movies and reading American books (at least I did); we know A LOT about how people in the Western world live, I knew about mashed potatoes, tortillas, meat loaf, shepherd’s pie before I was ten and I had never tasted any of them. Let’s not forget that as a child growing up in the 90′s and early 2000′s without internet and DStv, I didn’t have a lot, but I knew. It is therefore shocking to me (yes, shocking) that people on this side of the world know close to nothing about Africa.
A large part of the blame is our administration’s for not putting out enough good representation to combat the bad, no doubt. African Governments contribute to the ignorance with issues of corruption and fraud. The media also contributes to this. Unfortunately, a lot of the things we see, read and hear about Africa tend to be bad. But, it still baffles me that all some people know about Africa is that there are children dying of AIDS or hunger or something. Maybe I lived a very sheltered life, but I’ve never seen one of those AIDS-ridden children in Nigeria. I know they exist in other African countries and it’s sad, but it’s also sad that that’s all some very educated and ‘exposed’ people KNOW about Africa. A British professor does not know that Nigerians don’t speak ‘Nigerian’ and that there are over a hundred languages in our country. It’s our diversity. We don’t all need to speak the same language to be united because we have this amazing kind of English called ‘pidgin’. A Ukrainian actually considers believing that African women produce BROWN breast milk. Yes. Shocking. HOW? I was recently asked if Nigerians wore trousers in Nigeria and I asked what the person thought we wore? ‘long flowy dresses’. As ethereal as that sounds, I beg to differ, we are not flowy gown wearing people, but like every other part of the world, Nigerian women are fashionable and very trend conscious. At least she did not picture us as half dressed people swinging a la George of the jungle with elephants and giraffe. Can I just say now that I’ve never seen either live because we don’t have them in my country.
Nigeria and Africa are victims of the ‘single story trap‘. The world only knows one side of all the beauty that is us. The world only sees starving children, jungles, safaris, AIDS, mud houses and hot sunshine when they hear Africa and with a bleeding heart, I urge you to find Africa, find Nigeria, because you know nothing about us. I’ll leave a few sites below that showcase Nigerian food,music and culture and monuments and literature below and if you really care and if you never want to seem condescending while you pretend to know us by what flowers and trees we grow or if our ankara is cotton or greeting every Nigerian ”Ba Oni”, then take the time to see beyond the single story. We can tell when your smile is condescending and when you think our accents are too heavy. We don’t like it when you mispronounce our names and it confounds us how the CNN can pronounce Russian names like ‘Tsarnaev’ and not ‘Chinua’. It’s worrisome that some people have no idea that Nigerian authors exist, but they seem so curious about Nigeria. Reading is a fine step.
Rice is not all we eat. If that’s all you see us eat, it’s because that’s all you have for us in your countries, no offense. We eat moin-moin, yam ( a lot), egusi, afang (no, its not spinach), tuwo,okpa,akamu, akara, abacha, plantain and more. There are thousands of recipes on YouTube if you actually want to know. We do not understand the fascination with our hair. A lot of Nigerians do not like to have their hair touched – it’s strange. No one at home touches our hair and too much/unnecessary touching makes us feel like exhibition pieces in museums. We also do not know all the Nigerians who live in the same country as we do. It’s not possible. Do you know Fela? Do you like his music? No? It would be nice if you listened to him.. and Lagbaja and Asa. They’re very Nigerian. Don’t expect us to know your ‘indigenous’ artistes if you don’t know ours and don’t make us feel bad about it. If we give you gifts- African gifts; ankara, beads- wear them proudly. Our parents raised us well and we do not like to refuse food or hurt people’s feelings so try not to force us to eat things we do not like because you could not eat ogbono soup or goat meat peppersoup even if we paid you. Respect our cultures like we respect yours. We do not have ‘national songs’, there is no such thing. There is a Nigerian/National anthem and many Nigerian songs. Ever watched ‘Ije’? The Nollywood film? You should watch it. Or ‘Araromire’? If you want to see the beauty of Africa, she won’t be a mystery. You just have to try. These are both amazing movies in my own opinion. Normally, some of these nollywood movies are very cliché & repetitive but these two (and a few others) have very good storylines and have won many awards both locally and internationally.
I was upset. Really upset. I feel better. If you’re Nigerian, or African, I hope this makes you feel better and if you’re not… I hope this helps you. Ignorance is not a good look. If you care, if.. then try. If not, keep walking and don’t be surprised if you never ‘understand’ Africans. I love all my non-African friends, but life is better with knowledge and this is for some of them. All the things I cannot articulate in person. I hope this makes sense to you and you see my heart. And you understand that I don’t need you to worship Africa, just give her a chance and see her beauty.
Hi guys! 😀 Been a while…again. ._. You can’t blame me, I’ve got school and besides, exams are around the corner.
That aside… So, I was feeling quite nostalgic and the thoughts of home kept swimming in :(. I don’t keep diaries, so that’s when my laptop came in handy 🙂 Someone once told me that “the most random thoughts make the best stories”
Writing Typing time! ^_^
Nigeria is such a beautiful place complete with colour, diversity and culture. I love that place. Today, I’ve put together a few things that amuse me about growing up as a Nigerian. I hope you all enjoy it and think of home, especially if you’re not in Nigeria right now. And if you’re not Nigerian, this is a rare peek into the life of a Nigerian child. 🙂
Nigerians are so big on respect. They love to be respected and they teach their children to respect everyone older than they are, even if they’re just two minutes older. Please whatever you do, do NOT greet a Nigerian elder with ”hi” or ”hello”, been there done that, it does not end well;
You: Hi aunty
Aunty: Ehn? Hi kwa? Can’t you say ‘Good Afternoon’???
There may or may not be ensuing slaps.
I believe respect is also the reason why children are not allowed to drink malt, No? Even in weddings! The servers will pass by you or give you coke, Fanta or Sprite if you’re not an adult. This is quite random, but I’ve always wondered why some Adults always put all those liquid milk (especially peak milk) into their malt
– No one punishes like Nigerian parents. It’s a fact. The fear of your parents is also a very good place for wisdom to start. When you have committed, your parents will call you by your full name (e.g Chideraa Marie Modupe Nicole Obi) and after a dialogue that is actually a monologue of them shouting rhetorical questions like, ”Am I your mate??” at you, they will proceed to either flog you or hit you with anything from wooden spoons (used for the making of Garri a.k.a Eba) to slippers. God bless you if their weapon breaks on your body, because then you will be beaten for the loss of the weapon. Also, do not attempt self-defense, you might destroy the weapon and like I said, that doesn’t help you. And do not try to run, they will throw things at you and catch up with you. So, don’t do it.
Also, whatever you do, do NOT respond to any accusation your Nigerian parent makes because it will be held against you.
”Why are you just coming home?? You were with that boy again abi??”
”Daddy… We just went to…”
”Shut up! Are you talking back at me??”
– Nigerian parents are the lords of sarcasm and bitter irony. When your father calls you ”my friend”, it’s never a good sign. They also have the habit of calling your name a specific number of times (they know this number) designed to instill fear and then they’ll ask-”How many times did I call you??” when you’ve done wrong. They’ll say things like –”Ask me again!” when they don’t know the answer to your question or ”oya beat me!” when you try to defend yourself against them. They’ll tell your teacher to flog you; yes, they might plead with her to flog you very well if you do wrong (I’m a living witness to this 😐 ). You might be fortunate to have parents on the other side of the spectrum who’ll come with a cane to flog your teacher after she has flogged you.
– Try not to correct your Nigerian parents, especially in English-related issues. If they’re in a good mood, they’ll laugh and say;
”Ha! It’s not my language oh!”
If they had a bad day?
”So, you now have no respect abi? Is that what they’re teaching you in that your school?”
Ignore the fact that your parent says ”Bee-yonce” as opposed to ”Bee-yon-say”. DO NOT CORRECT THEM.
– Nigerian parents are not pro-dating. They are pro-marriage. They expect to see a prospective husband or hear about someone coming to ”knock door” when you’re twenty five but they expect you to never date anyone. Well, ladies, we have our work cut out for us. We ”garra” make some magic happen!
– They were all straight ‘A’ students in their time. They hit you with the classic line of, “I always came first in my class”. You have no business failing any course.
”Mummy, I had 90% in Mathematics!”
”Ehn… Where’s the other 10%?”
Daddy interjects: In my time, I had 98% minimum!
Well, what can we do? This is why most, if not all Nigerian students do very well everywhere.
Nigerian parents do not understand the song choices of this generation. And while I don’t blame them, it hurt my feelings when my mum said that my one of my favorite Beyoncé songs, ‘Halo’ sounded like a funeral song. Despite my arguments, she still maintains her ground till today. She also thinks that most of the songs that our generation listen to these days are “Gbo-Gbo, Jim-Jim” (LOOOL. That’s basically an onomatopoeia for the ‘songs we tend to dance to in this century’ :’) ) According to her, it’s all noise *sigh. She’s probably right. They’re probably right and we’re all too starstruck to see clearly. I always tease her with some of the songs ‘they’ listened to in their time; especially this one with the lyrics, “Celebrate good times, come on!…” *moonwalks across the room* Lol, the song is catchy. You guys probably know it…or not. ( ._.)
Nigerian parents are very squeamish about saying ”I love you”. You have to say it first. Many Nigerians have never actually heard their parents say ”I love you” to them. They love you, they’re just shy. I know, it’s cute. ^.^
If you were raised in a Nigerian home, especially if you’re female, you’ll know that every morning, you should sweep the house and its environs. Basically, you clean every day like a health inspector is coming to visit. The only problem is that Nigerian mothers are stricter than the average health inspector.
Nigerian weddings are the greatest! Food and dance! The problem is that it starts two to three hours later and to be an MC you have to be a proficient ‘apologist’ to apologize constantly and promise to set the guests free on time. Another problem is that people will probably fight about food and drinks. And insult those serving and accuse them of enormous partiality. You also have to bring a gift or forget about receiving a “soh-veh-niah” (souvenir).
We invented spraying money on the couple while they dance happily. And then we dance on the naira notes.
At a Nigerian event, it is most likely that you’ll be unable to see in front of you, thanks to the many gele-wearing women.
NO NIGERIAN PARENT WILL PAY YOU FOR DOING CHORES.
”I’ll use the money to feed you. Who pays your school fees??”
They will even make you wash dishes and clothes when you have a dishwasher and washing machine. Do you want your husband to send you home? No? Ehen, wash.
Hot chocolate like ‘Milo’ is called ”tea”. In Nigeria, you hardly see anyone who drinks tea. They may have tea in their cupboard but 70-80% of the time, it remains unused. Meanwhile in the U.K it’s like a daily ritual for the citizens. I still don’t drink it, regardless *shrugs*
Visitors show up without calling and eat all the food in your house and leave a mountain of unwashed dishes. At least, it’s not as bad as family that comes to stay for a week and stay a year.
And now, some final fun facts;
– In Nigeria, an average road side seller of ‘Gala’ runs faster than Usain Bolt.
– Witches in Nollywood movies are a thousand times scarier than Freddy from ‘Friday the 13th’ or Chucky from ‘Child’s play’
– Nollywood movies induced the fear of cats in me 😦 According to the movies, cats are all evil. That’s probably the reason why MOST Nigerians dislike cats and start “binding and casting in the name of Jesus” when they see one.
– Nigerians are accustomed to doubling words, e.g; ‘follow follow’: A person who follows the crowd. ‘Chop Chop’: Someone who loves to eat. ‘Kata Kata’: Basically trouble of massive proportions.
– We rename objects; T-shirt = Polo. Hair packer = A hair band of some sort that you use to ‘pack your hair’ :/(otherwise known as a scrunchy).
– Nigerian breakfasts are the greatest. They range from akara, bread and akamu a.k.a pap to yam porridge. They’ll have you either sleepy all day or extra fortified depending on the kind of person you are.
– Eating Garri and egusi, oha or any other soup your mother prepared for lunch is a daily ritual in typical Nigerian homes.
–DO NOT expect to see Ice-cream in the ice-cream containers left in your freezers/refridgerators. Half of the time, it’s just soup stored in there. -_-
-No one makes declarations like Nigerians;
”The devil is a liar!” can be a declaration, confirmation or question.
”Jesus is Lord!” or “Blood of Jesus!” comes in handy in times of profound shock.
– A Nigerian child is everyone’s child. Your mother can call your neighbors to beat you. Yes. Or they’ll just come on their own. This is why everyone both related and unrelated to you is your ‘aunty’ or ‘uncle’.
I love Nigeria. I love my parents and all Nigerian parents and every time I see other children who weren’t raised properly, I’m grateful to my parents for teaching me courtesy, respect, self-sacrifice and patience. Appreciate your parents! They love you.
P.S – I would love to hear your funny experiences growing up as a Nigerian and maybe we can have a reader’s edition. That’s if anyone gets to read this at all. ._. Don’t be shy, leave a comment! 🙂 x