Bits of a Road Trip.

Men fight but make up quickly.

I had a good journey – from Abuja to Okene. Although the music was too loud and everyone was quiet or sleeping (I think) because I slept most of the way too. After we stopped for a bit at Okene and continued, one of the passengers had a fight with the driver. The passenger complained about the rudeness of the driver and that the driver’s disrespect for his age. They threw words at each other like “stop the car let’s fight” and “shey you said you would leave the car and charter another, what’s stopping you?’ and other variations.

The other passengers tried to soothe the passenger and from there it led to politics, God, Nigerians living in other countries, and everyone sharing their perspectives. Everyone wanted the other to hear what they had to say. the driver wasn’t interested and increased the volume of the CD playing.

I happened to be the only female among six other passengers including the driver. I had a conversation with the guy who sat next to me – young, early thirties. He’s been married for a year or so. He has a child. He was surprised that I could say my rosary in the car. He said that it made him ashamed. He talked about his wife and kid a little and how he met her. He told me about how he once had God in the center but that has changed. He could not explain what changed. He told me that it was the best part of his life but he doesn’t know how come he can’t go back there. After sharing a bit of this and that, he said that my parents did well in the way I was brought up.

I talked really little and liked to listen.

Erm, do I look that young??? He guessed that I was either in school or serving. Of course I couldn’t be married, I had no ring on it. They just looked at me as a young girl. Child. Something sha. Lol.

When the man started getting comfortable, I started looking for the next exit to end the conversation and go back to reading Americanah. As soon as he got a call I went back to my book and he didn’t bother me again. I saw parts of me in some parts of the book – the way I must have acted consciously or unconsciously both past and present. It was like someone had described some parts of you in a certain way before but argued that it was a a false description, then you’re given this novel to read and see for yourself.

We had a flat tyre somewhere.

I noticed that the married men, at least the young ones liked to say ‘my wife’. I liked that it wasn’t said like they had just made a new acquisition, rather it was said with happiness and  warmth – someone they love and look forward to seeing or talking. Lool! Don’t ask me how I know. I just feel these things. I hope you get.

Then there was the former-mad passenger who told us that he doesn’t go to any church in Nigeria. He agreed that God is everywhere but not in any Nigerian church and mosque – his words. The other passengers wanted him to share his ideology. (Dear readers, I’ll like to hear your thoughts about this). He was asked and he told them that he stays at home on Sundays but he has told his wife and children can go to any church if they want to (I was appalled). I just stopped listening to anything he had to say and focused on my book.

At this time, Former-mad passenger and driver were talking and laughing. The music was increased to an obscene volume but no one complained. It gave me a headache but everyone seemed not bothered. They were either fiddling with their phones or having conversations in monotones. So I read Americanah all the way.

The end. 🙂

A Visit to the Motherless Babies Home.

I went to visit babies at the Motherless babies home a few days back. It was my first. I saw babies of 18 months and below. I must confess that I was dreading visiting them. Why, you may ask. I didn’t know how to act: if I was to have the pity face or just act like life is beautiful. I chose to be myself and I enjoyed it. I also learnt that there was a difference between Motherless Babies Home and the Orphanage Home, don’t judge me. The former have fathers who lost their mothers usually due to childbirth while the others have no parent.

I carried one of the kids and while I did that, my sister asked the caretaker if she was permitted to do the same and she said no. I quickly dropped the little girl. The caretaker didn’t give a reason.

When we left the Home, my sister and I came to the conclusion that the children must really feel that absence of love a lot. During this season people come into their home and show them love. People give all so much but after the season life goes on. We get busy with work and forget how much these kids need love. So I guess the caretaker’s point was that they(kids) should get used to not being carried and showered with gifts and affection. Fickle minds that we have.

On my way out I noticed that one of the caretakers changing a baby who had pooed. I also noticed the baby napkin was in tatters. I felt for them. I asked my sister and brother in-law why they couldn’t provide better napkins for these children since people bring money among other things. Their opinion was that just the same way these children get love seasonally, the gifts are also given seasonally. Since they can’t maintain diapers while start.

It broke my heart.

Dear readers, please if you can help in donating things as little as diapers or you know someone that’s wealthy or not but willing to be of assistance, please have conversation with them. You can help these children. My thoughts are that if you or a couple of your friends can make a consistent supply of diapers to these homes – motherless or orphanage, you’ll be contributing immensely to the lives of these children. Please don’t wait until it’s Christmas or a holiday to visit them. You can do it at any time. Let them feel and know what love is and about.

Great pieces of (non)sense

Trust me, it doesn’t have anything to do with the post but It’s a beautiful picture. (._.)

Today’s post maybe regarded as banal to some but I hope you still read it to the end. If you do then I like you. :*

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It’s been over two weeks I came back from Ibadan and I planned to write about the period I spent there. I went to visit my sister’s family and in particular my niece.

I stayed in Ibadan for a month during which I visited nobody. I can’t say I’m proud of myself. I have a few friends that I could have visited but I didn’t tell them that I came to Ibadan. I even chatted with one of them while I was there and I deliberately let her assume that I was in Abuja. You would think I was so occupied that I didn’t want to see them. The fact is that I wasn’t. My period in  Ibadan was spent going to the hospital or shopping. No, I wasn’t ill. I only happened to be taking several tests for law school which I will be going to in October. Yes, I did shop a lot. Okay, a little; I went to several shops looking for formal wears, white shirts in particular because I need them for school. For someone who hates window shopping, I seized the opportunity when I entered several shops looking for white shirts by checking out clothes and accessories even if I couldn’t buy them. It’s not like I wouldn’t have wanted to buy but I had a tight budget and I had to focus on buying white shirts before looking at any other thing. I went to a market where the seller gave me over twenty shirts and I could only pick one because the rest were of poor quality. I didn’t even bother with the other shops so I stuck with the boutiques.

Note to self: YOU must study and work hard so you can buy the simplest and most elegant of the lot.

It may or may not be obvious that I’m a loner which best explains why I can stay on my bed all day as long as I’m given a laptop that’s got internet and electricity. I recently realized that I have a thing against watching TV. I just feel there’s no point spending any length of time on it when I can find whatever I’m looking for online or I could read a novel or something.  Unfortunately, my brother-in-law, Q couldn’t understand and whispered to my sister that he thought it was weird I stay in my room for long periods without watching TV or talking with them. My sister told me about Q’s comment so I started dividing the time I spent in my room by watching TV in the living room and having conversations with them. Many times DsTv was boring but boredom made me check channels that I wouldn’t have gone to at all. I spent a few hours watching the travel channel. I learnt inter alia that whenever the Chinese migrate/emigrate, they always settle in the most successful city in that country. So I finally understood how Chinatown in Lagos came about.

Have you ever heard of a culture where plates are broken and people dance over the plates? Well, Cyprus has such a culture. I’m not sure they are the only ones but I also watched it on TV.

Then I watched the wedding ceremony of a sixteen year old gypsy girl. Gosh! I must say that they are very dramatic. The whole carriage thing, her elaborate wedding dress and make up, and the fact that she is expected to be a stay at home mum while she quits her education is what I didn’t understand. I always thought gypsies were basically nomads and fortune tellers that wore too many clothes until the day I watched the ceremony. What I really like about them is how closely knitted the families are and how they make sure their culture and traditions aren’t forgotten.

I really enjoyed spending time with my niece. She’s a sweet child until she cries. I want to believe that’s normal among babies. I can say she’s going to be a tall child seeing as she’s growing out of her clothes so soon.  Did I say how expensive babies are? I still wonder how my mother gave birth to six kids. Well, things weren’t as expensive as they are now. I went to the hospital with my sister for the immunization of her daughter. There are just too many vaccines out there. Okay, lemme stop here.

I realized that contrary to public opinion (twitter), Ibadan isn’t so bad. As much as they have many old and rusted roofs (in other words many old buildings), they also have many new buildings/houses.  I like the fact that life isn’t on a fast lane, they have good schools and their cost of living is affordable. Compared to Abuja, their churches are made up of a smaller population which sits well with me and their Sunday school is more educative. I could consider settling there (this is my opinion; the partner may have other ideas). The only problem I have with the people in Ibadan is that they tell you the price of an item based on your dressing, car, diction, etc. My sister, X told me a story about how she went to buy a yard of table cloth that cost N200 (she knew its cost because she had bought it a few weeks before and wanted another). X went to the market with her friend and asked the woman who looked yoruba (a different seller) how much same yard cost and she told her N2000. So X looked at her friend and spoke igbo explaining how much she bought same it before. You won’t believe what happened next. The seller broke X’s conversation with her friend saying in igbo that she knew how much it was but my sister doesn’t want her (the seller) to be like her (my sister).

After my sister told me this, I quickly changed my mind but then, I couldn’t forget the other good things of Ibadan. But then…