OUR FEDRALISM IS A SCAM

“Politics is the Authoritative Allocation of Values for the society.” (David Easton)

Nigeria for a long time we know is a product of coercion of irrational actions of the Colonial Master to create a colonial appendage for its products and citizens. As a result, one wonders why Nkiru Asika says, Nigeria has ”over 200 Tribes speaking 300 Languages”, probably to show the heterogeneous nature of the Product called Nigeria.

Indeed, the valiant diversion of the Founding Fathers to create a miniature Federal Governmental structures is commendable- farther from its traditional allies, The Great Britain.

The United State of America’s Federal Structure did not sprout from the Blues; it was an aftermath of National Predicaments and Futurist Foresight to give the Minority a voice and follow a Collective Bargaining modus operandi.

I could remember vividly the compendium I read while as an undergraduate written by Michael Burgess on the comparative Analysis of Federations in the world. The United State remained almost an eternal model of Federalism birthed by Philadelphia Constitutional Convention (Virginia Plan) and Connecticut Great Compromise (New Jersey)

Where did Nigeria get this mysterious Federalism from? And why has it remained a producer of Federal mirage? This answer is not far-fetched, since The 1957 Willick Commission recommended that to obliterate Fears of the Minority groups, Minority Groups should be allowed to hold Political Positions to Balance Power against Inequality, create Special Commission for Minority dominated Areas, etcetera.

With this in our minds, different governments since the First Republic had been dealing with this appalling menace of Secession which are in form of Party Conflicts, Civil War, Religious Riots, Militancy, Ethnic Agitations, Genicidal Struggles, etcetera, and the only government that has tackled this objectively were Muritala- Obasanjo Regime of 1976- 1979- probably because of its Marxian Leaning, and Yar’Adua- Goodluck’s Government 2008- 2011.

Successive Governments aside those mentioned above can be quoted as often saying or acting in the manner as, “the Sovereignty of Nigeria is non-negotiable” with so much impunity and pride, as if they are the Humanity of Nigeria’s existence.

For this Product Nigeria to move forward, all must understand the Humanity we belong to as being a multifaceted being and not a one-way path. And we must ensure we go back to the negotiating Table to bargain for the possible continuous existence of Nigeria and its Federating Structures.

Why cannot the Biafran Sun shine from the East? Why cannot the fingering Creeks that bathed Kenule Beeson Saro- Wiwa  from Ogoni flow to the Delta into the Atlantic?

Written by Abayomi Olaofe.

Edited by Molawa Olawale.

MAAMI (MY GRANDMOTHER)

This morning, I remembered one out of my several moments with my Grandma and smiled. Not that it was funny.


On this day, she came to visit with my favourite aunt, my aunt is a Goddess in human form. We call her  “Oyinbo mi” very fair and beautiful, I adored her. My uncles soon joined and the house was full.

We we're excited to see them,  I and my siblings and parents. It must have been on a Sunday because my father was at home.

We lived in a room and parlour, the setting was simple- a set of brown chairs in the parlour,  a Tv that never works and a centre table. That was it. And in the room, a big bed for the parents, a wooden wardrobe and sleeping mats for the children.

There must have been an emergency or something but as usual the children couldn't know much so I didn't know what it was about.

I clinged to my aunt like a baby monkey,  their conversation started organically, from greetings to unpacking and all so they forgot to send me out of the room.

I sat there on the floor like a mute, I felt invincible as I watched them talk back and forth, what it was about I cant even remember but what I remember is watching my grandma’s gestures as she talked, I look very much like this woman I thought, especially our lips and nose. Why then does she always insult me that I have big lips?

So right there, in between the conversation of about 6 adults I made a statement in Yoruba ( Please try to read this in Yoruba) “maami, look at your big lips, they look exactly like mine “

Everyone  in the room shouted Ah! My mum's hands were on her head, My aunt's hand covered my mouth! I remember my father rushing to my side to probably prevent me from the evil that is to come but he was late.  Before he could reach me, maami got to me and nothing was the same.

THE LAST WATER BENDER.

“Knock knock.”

“Who is it?”, I reply in my normal ‘plix go to your room’ voice.

“It's me.”

“This ‘me’ wey dey knock all the time sef”, I mutter to myself as I unlock the door and swiftly swing it open.

“Good morning. I'm sorry if I woke... ”

“No oh, I wasn't sleeping oh. I was even about to come and open the door sef. Don't be”, I abruptly reply. Izz nor me that this fine fish will pass by.

Ewuchim oo, plix ehn, all this beauty is it for one person or for you and your sisters to share? Na there and then, I realise say you dey vex be say fine girl never knock for your door for morning. As sharp shooter wey I be, man gats shoot en shot in any way possible so I proceed to ask her in;

“Please come in, dear, so I can shut the door. Mosquitoes here work even during their leisure hour.”

“Heh, thanks but I'm just here to borrow your fetcher.”, she quickly responds.

I think to myself: Ahn, only fetcher? Plix can I fetch you some of my loving too while at it? In fact, can we fetch each other forever bikonu?
Thank God mind reading isn't an actual thing.

“I was about going down to fetch water myself. Why don't you wait a second while I get the fetcher and my gallon.”

“Okay”, she goes, as she proceeds to sit on my 35k mattress. I'm happy.

My drums are filled up but a wise man once said “half empty and half full are like saying potato and potato”, so I quickly trip and voila, my drum is half filled. There's water everywhere but a little wetness never killed anyone.

We get to the well and I fill up all the gallons. Contact me for your fairly used watering cans.

I insist on carrying both our gallons while she holds on to the fetcher and funnel. I can do this. I've been training for this day.


Meanwhile, she lives on the 3rd floor and I, myself, on the 1st, but what is distance but a measure of space, so I flex my biceps up until the 3rd floor. Ooh, I know she wants me right now.

We get to the door and she thanks me but I insist on finishing what I started, so she lets me take it into the kitchen after much hesitation and grammar.

“Chairman, how far na?”, I proceed to greet the Uncle lying on her three deck in bed like he owns the place.

“Your brother looks like you oh”, I say to her, in an attempt to console myself as I leave the room. She smiles, leans forward and whispers to me, “That's my boyfriend.”

I realise the 3rd floor to the 1st floor is far. She's not even that fine and it seems the only thing wet right now is my room.

No, I'm not crying oh. It's the pepper and onions from the Indomie she was cooking.


Written by Tuzy for Awestafricangirl.

Little Ayo.

It happens all the time, children cling to me in the bus, in the mall, in the market, anywhere. But little Ayo’s clinginess was different  ! I was really tired today and the traffic was making matters worse. Heat, noise and fumes from every angle. May we live long in this Lagos.

A tired me is a very touchy me, I get cranky. A hungry me is even worse. This evening, I was tired and hungry.  Mama Oyo's amala was all I ate all day, you can't blame me. My office area is like a desert, no food, you'll have to find your way to VI or Admirality.


I was lucky to get maruwa going to Badore as it was already late, I sat beside a lady. She looked like a trader retiring home after a long day with her load. She carried her baby girl on her laps, paid little or no attention to me, nobody has time in Lagos.

I had shopped for some fruits under the bridge and now balanced them on my laps, little Ayo must have seen my banana or watermelon or orange as she starts dragging my bag with her tiny fingers. She would drag for a while and then give me a toothless smile, I would smile back.


She continued, her mum would try to stop her but she wasn't having it. Then she  moved from my bag to my hair, dragging my braids playfully and smiling, I was forced to look at her hair , few strands scattered all over, I'm almost certain she uprooted them herself. As I reached for her hands to release my hair, she held my hand to ransom.  That's was it, my heart melted. She was all over me now doing all sorts, I couldn't help but ask for her name, her mum said ‘Ayo and I replied with ‘ No wonder ‘

She was very energetic, full of life. Ayo was such a delight. Some children would cry under such circumstance but she chose to smile and laugh and her smile gave me so much joy.  It was so good that I forgot how tried and hungry I was. We were like pals, giggling and talking about things we both do not understand. Her mum couldn't care less, she literally ignored us.

I was almost at my estate as I handed her to her mum, she took her from my hands with a thank you. Brought out her breast for her to suckle and In less that 1 minute Ayo was fast asleep.


Sometimes, life is not so bad after all.  Thank you Ayo.

MENSTRUAL HYGIENE DAY

I became a tomboy in my early teen out of frustration, I realised I didn't have all the girly qualities girls my age had. My best cover was to become an ‘almost boy’. Luckily for me I could play soccer and volley ball, those helped with my disguise.

As a very smart kid that I was, my education was pretty fast, at age fifteen I was out of Senior Secondary School. Right from JSS 3-SS3, almost  all my female class mates had started their monthly  period  save I. I could not understand why nature decided to exclude me from this ‘cool thing ‘  I wasn't pleased.

I just wanted mine to come,  I remember how my mother used to wash her  blood soaked folded clothes, I would sit with her till she's done. But as much as I wanted mine to come, I did not understand how to cope with those clothes . And oh! the stench!

So by SS2 third term, some Corp members came to my school, my favourite was Mr Samson not Miss Funmi that we nicknamed Miss Pepeye, she wears hideous high heels and was skinny to the bone! During assembly one day, Miss Pepeye announced that there was going to be an orientation for the girls about blah blah and blah, who cares, I was not a girl.

Apparently, the orientation was about menstrual hygiene and it turned out to be so cool.  The coolest part was that we were all given free Always Sanitary Pads, one each. Even though I couldn't use it then, I could not wait to give it to my mum. That simple act of kindness will stay with me forever. That must explain why I am loyal to the ‘Always’ brand.

Menstrual hygiene is very important,  it should be discussed often.

Here are some tips to keep yourself safe.
1.Keep separate underwear for your period.
2.Change pad every 4-5 hours
3.Wash yourself every time  you use the toilet.
4.Choose one method of sanitation. E.g.. Tampons, Sanitary Pads or Menstrual cups.
5.Don't use soap or vagina hygiene products.

Bandits Kidnap Three Persons In Fresh Katsina Village Attack

Bandits have kidnapped three persons in a fresh attack on Dan-Ali village in Danmusa Local Government Area of Katsina State.

The attackers also carted away money and valuables in the attack.

A resident in the community, Malam Tukur Dan Ali, confirmed the incident to Channels Television.

He said his relative was part of those kidnapped.

According to Dan Ali, the bandits in their dozens arrived in the village around 1:25 am on Tuesday and kidnapped three young persons, one of which is women.

He added that the attackers shot into the air to scare residents.

“The bandits made several gunshots sporadically and made their way into the houses of Alhaji Musa and Alhaji Gambo where they kidnapped the three persons,” he explained.

He said the bandits had however released one of the victims, Hajiya Fatima unconditionally.

He lamented that security operatives were yet to arrive in the village even as at 5:30 a.m.

Efforts to reach the spokesman of the state police command, Gambo Isah, a Superintendent of Police (SP) proved abortive as calls made to his phone were not returned.

Bandits attacks and kidnappings have been on the rise in Katsina State. The level of insecurity recently led members of the state to call on the Federal government to declare a state of emergency on the state as quickly as possible.

President Muhammadu Buhari in reaction to the spate of attacks ordered the security chiefs to commence an investigation. He also assured that the government will restore peace and stability in the state.

Meanwhile, Governor Aminu Masari has signed into law mandatory death sentence for anyone convicted of cattle rustling or kidnapping in Katsina State.



Source: Channels TV.

Amaechi Cannot Speak For Igbo's, Peter Obi Fumes “He did not even achieve anything in his own state.

The People’s Democratic Party (PDP) vice presidential candidate Peter Obi has said berated Rotimi Amaechi, minister of transportation over comments attributed to him on Igbo presidency in 2023.

Rotimi Amaechi said the people must not demand the presidency slot in 2023 for refusing to back the All Progressive Congress (APC).

Nigeria which has three major ethnic groups has not produced a President of Igbo extractions since 1999.

He said: “I don’t know what they will do now for voting against the APC. For refusing to support the APC, they cannot come to the table to demand the presidency slot."

Reacting, Obi while addressing reporters yesterday in Port-Harcourt said he was amazed at Amaechi’s statement, who is not from the Southeast but is writing off the region from the next presidential election.

According to Peter Obi: “Amaechi is not from the Southeast, so he cannot speak for us.

“He is not in any position to make such statements because even he that is in APC; he did not contribute anything to the success of that election.

“He did not even achieve anything in his own state.  Those of us from the Southeast who are from the PDP contributed to the success of our party.

“For example, PDP in my state got 95 percent. They (APC) didn’t even get 25 per cent in Rivers State.  So he is not competent to speak on the Presidency in 2023”.




Source: Sahara Reporters.

Niger Governor Dissolves Cabinet, Directs Commissioners To Handover Today

The Niger State Governor, Abubakar Sani-Bello has dissolved the State Executive Council and directed all Commissioners to prepare and hand over the affairs of their Ministries to their Permanent Secretaries.

The governor directed all other political appointees to do same and handover to the most senior civil servant in their departments or agencies.

In a statement by his Chief Press Secretary, Jibrin Baba Ndace, the Governor commended the Members of the Executive Council and Special Advisers for a job well done and directed that all handover should be perfected on or before 12 mid-night of Tuesday.

Addressing the valedictory session of the council after a meeting that lasted for almost seven hours, the governor expressed his appreciation to council members for offering themselves for the service of the state at a crucial period like this.

“I want to express my profound gratitude to all of you. I appreciate your commitment to the service of our dear state. You all have contributed immensely to the social contract we had with our people four years ago. The modest actualisation of the “Restoration Agenda” was a product of our collective efforts.

“I want to wish every one of you success in your future endeavours while I implore you all to remain committed to the development of our dear state. Your valuable contributions are highly appreciated and I make bold to say that you all have done well.

The valedictory session had in attendance, Members of the Executive Council, Special Advisers, Permanent Secretaries, Local Government Director of Personnel Management, DPMs and other stakeholders.



Source: Channels News.

2019 Budget: I Rate Saraki Very Low On Patriotism, Says President Buhari

“I asked them how they felt to hold the country at ransom for seven months without passing a budget. Unfortunately, they were not hurting me; they were hurting the country. So, really, in terms of patriotism, I think I rated them very low indeed.”

Nigerian President, Muhammadu Buhari has passed a vote of no confidence on the leadership of the National Assembly in the enactment of the 2019 Appropriation Act.

Buhari, while speaking, on Monday night, during a videotaped interview broadcast on Nigerian Television Authority, NTA, said he had conveyed his reservation directly to the legislative leaders while assenting the bill on Monday morning.

When asked to comment on the delayed budget passage, president Buhari said, “I think a culture was developed in the National Assembly that they should dictate the terms, which was wrong. It is the executive that dictates the terms and takes it before the legislature. It (the legislature) will examine it and agree or disagree with it.

“But when they go around posing that they are the government and not the executive, then that’s the problem. I felt and I spoke personally to the Senate President, Saraki, and the leader of the House, Dogara. They could not deny it.

“I asked them how they felt to hold the country at ransom for seven months without passing a budget. Unfortunately, they were not hurting me; they were hurting the country. So, really, in terms of patriotism, I think I rated them very low indeed.”

The President noted that constitutionally, he could not help that there were things that had to go through the legislature.

“But to hold a budget for seven months cannot be justified if you really bother about the country,” he added.

Source: Sahara Reporters.

BREAST CANCER AWARENESS PT 1

...”can I have your number? You are very beautiful, I would like to keep in touch.” Those words came out of his mouth  smoothly, he must do this a lot. I felt irritated, rolled my eyes in a – I was expecting this manner, scribbled my number on a paper and exited his office.

One of my friends in the university had breast surgery the previous semester, she is very blessed from above like me. The doctor had said it was a lump and they have to remove it quickly. We cried and prayed and thanked God after the success.  So, there I was, with a similar problem. I know friendship can most times be about sharing each others pain, joy, food,  clothes. No one warned me about sharing illnesses.


I stepped out of the office to see my mum, she sat with her hands in-between her laps,  you could tell she has been crying. I  walked slowly  towards her to share the news.


Oftentimes, I hear people say “ Ignorance is bliss “  I'm not so sure that's a wise statement when it comes to health related issues.  I wish I knew about breast cancer earlier, I also wish I was aware of the hormonal changes before and during a woman's menstrual cycle which could cause tenderness, heaviness and pain. I wish I knew it was okay to check my breast regularly.



I remember calling my mum from school, my voice was husky and shaky  from tears. I had cried overnight asking God questions like “ how would  cutting off my breasts glorify you huh?”.  I told her how heavy my breast are and when I say heavy I mean heavy! She sensed the fear in my voice as I sensed in hers. By evening I was home.


My mother has never been able to explain where I got my big breasts from as hers are moderate. As a teenager, I outgrow my bras every 3 months, I often catch her looking at my chest in disbelief. I took off my bra, she examined them thoroughly. I laugh as I write this but it was not funny then. She thought it was a spiritual problem, she picked her phone, called her pastor, in the morning, we were at the mission house.

Prayer session was over, my mum started explaining all over again in tears, her emphasis was on- “My enemies will not mock me over my children “  I was asked to take off my top for examination, the truth is I didn't care my pastor was going to touch my breast, after all  he was like a father to me.

“ It is spiritual, I  have dealt with something similar, I will give you something to use”. His words were affirmative. He prayed again, a prayer of deliverance. We left...




To be cont.

THE TRUTH IS, MEN ARE SCUM.

Sunday evenings are for beach outings in Lagos I guess. Looking dapper in my all white ensemble with a touch of floral scarf. Brows perfectly carved with a dash of red lips stick, I head for the door. I can tell it is going to be an interesting evening.


Bid my sister farewell as she keeps gushing and complimenting my improved make-up skill; I feel like a pro. Halts by the mirror to take a long look at self; smiles in admiration, pops my booty Ta and
ta! Saying to myself in a reassuring tone 'I am a baby girl for life'. Now hurriedly descending the long stairs, I am late as usual. I am not surprised.


Wearing white in Lagos can be an extreme sport when you're not driving. What’s more extreme is if you live in an area filled with stagnant water from recent rainfalls. Hop! hop! that's me jumping all the water my village people set as trap for my slay. Jealousy kill them.

Phew! Not an Israelite, but I got to the dry land unscathed. I am becoming an expert at this. I am now hailing a bike, ‘esssss, 'Aboki take me to the gate'. He halts abruptly before me as I climb with utmost
carefulness, nothing must ruin my dress.

Part of being a Lagosian must be, knowing how to balance on a bike and enjoy the ride.

Just after the third bump, something awakens my memory. Oh shoot me! I forgot to take some money with me! Checks my bag clumsily for my ATM card... Oh thank God! Quickly taps the Aboki; ‘My friend, you fit carry me go ATM?' He responds ‘yes aunty’. I heave a partial sigh of relief.


The long queue is expected on a weekend. I take my rightful place on the line, look around the gallery, First bank is boldly written on each machine. There are three of them which signifies 3 queues. There is also a dark lady before me, her hair is neatly plaited into two cornrows. I envy her courage. The braids I have on is already driving me nuts. Now praying silently, ATM’s in this country do not respect your emotions at all, they can treat your fuck up anytime mehn.



As hanty conrows steps forward to withdraw, my heart leaps for joy. I am next, so I'll soon be by the beach sipping some booze and shaking my booty!

It's been more than 10 minutes now and this hanty is still there, hmn okay, maybe she's a member of the 30 billion gang. We shall see.

Las las she signals me to come, this better be good. She says to me in a very confused manner ‘I don't know why this machine is spitting my card out o'


Ah, okay. In utter amusement and concern, I explain to her patently, I think you are on the wrong queue as this machine only accepts First bank users card. She paused for a second as if to digest the not so good information I just gave,  gives the longest hiss I've heard all my  life and walks past me grudgingly without a thank you. Hehe! hanty conrow, am I the machine?


How I got to the beach is story for another day. Let's focus on the fun here, shall we? There is a lot of activities going on I can't count.


All my girls are ballers, full squad; no shaking . Nothing in the world gives me more joy! I’m now sipping my Heineken and gisting with the girls but all I see is bad romance.

Everywhere I turn; couples kissing , shirtless dark men, couples making out, ass grabbing and all! I am not even exaggerating! Is this what you people come to do here? In this mammy water territory? Ok.


One delicious looking, hot chocolate guy just winked at me. My heart did Kikum! kikum! He licks his full lips in a seductive manner and smiles.  My ovaries are not even calm again, I can hear them shout daddy! It's like I'm pregnant, pregnant from his wink.



His white shirt and shorts are dripping water, I can see his well built chest and well... other things.



I am now smiling back, as a voice called from the ocean. 'Babe! Are you cold already?' Babe ke? I turn to see a fair lady walk towards him, places a kiss on his lips and they start to play. Wow! What did I just watch? Uncle caramel toppings, is my singleness a joke to you?


As angry as I am, 'lead us not into temptation’ is all I can mutter under my breathe as I hear a voice in my head say ‘daughter of Zion, focus, these men ain't loyal'.


Written by Molawa Olawale.
Directed by Ifeoluwa Odeniran.
Edited by Rukayat Mudashir.

THE AMAKA SYNDROME

There's this popular song by 2 face Idibia where he sings over a promising beat, about a not so promising girl, who goes by the name "Amaka", who disappointed him and never showed up - when it mattered.

For Nigerian male youths, this was more than a song. It was like an eye opener as to what meaning lies behind the name "Amaka" - short for "Chiamaka" -  which can be used interchangeably with disappoint or disappointment. It's a popular Igbo name which has little or nothing to do with the bearer being beautiful and everything to do with the joy the bearer as a child brought to his or her folks when he or she was born. More on the she part.


Okay, enough with the history, that's not what we're here for. On a normal day, this name, in full, when translated in English means "God is so Beautiful", but being the abbreviation lovers that we are, we cut it to "Amaka" which when translated is "So beautiful". I'm pleased to tell you that today is no normal day.


Today is the day we'll discuss the name "Amaka"; if what they say about it is true and how much influence it has on a potential bearer.


In the spirit of retrospect, I'd like to reference the short-lived love story "2:33AM" where I'm pretty sure it was one of the Amakas at work and since a drop of oil can contaminate the Ocean, then, yea, Amaka is indeed a disappointment.


Ladies and Gentlemen, the Amaka syndrome is real. Every second, another young Igbo girl, born into this World joins the pack, just by simply adopting the name. They're living amongst us, walking and breathing like normal humans. They're probably even building an army of Amakas to disappoint us all and take over the World. Save an Amaka today, rename her on your phone!

This is not much of a discussion anymore cause I haff already drawn my own conclusion. Plix, don't coman tell me it's a lie, I will bite you. God bless us all.


Written by Tuzy for Awestafricangirl.
Edited by Molawa Olawale.

2:33 AM

It's 2:33AM. Exactly 2 hours and 33 minutes since I made what could possibly go down as the dumbest decision so far, four months ago.

I still hear her voice in my head; gisting happily with her friends. She's probably even forgotten I exist. I wonder who she's with now and what she told him bout her immediate past relationship. That is, if in fact, there was even a relationship.

I should've taken heed to the voices in my head when they said young love was for the feeble minded. I thought it was only the bravest of men that let themselves be vulnerably in love, for it is only in being weak that one can truly find strength?

Wasn't that what you said to me, Ghandi? Yeah, it probably wasn't Ghandi's quote but what does it matter? All philosophers are the same seeing as this conversation is happening in my  head.

I don't really know if I know what love is or how to know it's real but what I know for sure is that what I felt for Chiamaka was real and I can't help but feel foolish every time I remember how she left me at the altar.

Altar is such a strong word, you'd say but this is not your typical almost married sorta altar. This is a ‘private University student girlfriend supposed to come see her boyfriend during her short lived, once in a blue moon, Easter break but ends up leaving the relationship that same week without explanations’ kinda altar. The very altar on which my relationship lay was defiled  and left to rot before my very eyes.

We had been on & off for two years but I finally resolved to fight for love against all odds and hope it'll prevail. We had a misunderstanding which led to 3 months of silence but I swallowed my pride and broke that silence that night when I made that call, with the airtime I loaded to subscribe for a data plan.

Alas, I gave up my data for love and the same love has left me alone in a data-less relationship.

Why did she leave? That's a question I'm hoping to get an answer to, someday. But for now, all I have are these words I mutter to myself like I'm silently praying, and the time 2:33AM repeatedly hunting me.

It's 2:33AM and you're still not here by my side where you said you will always be, four months ago. I shouldn't have made that call.



Written by Tuzy for: Awestafricangirl.
Edited by Molawa Olawale.

HOW I MET MY INSTAGRAM FOLLOWER.

Have you heard the popular saying about social media? The one that calls it a global village? Well I have, and I did not understand it fully until this morning.


It was almost 8:00am and I was still standing at my popular bus-stop waiting for a bus of my choice. My black jump suit- V-cut low back with a lace-up front fitted my balanced size 8 body like a fiddle. And of course a yellow Ankara jacket to cover up.


I stopped wearing makeup to work some months ago, it was not convenient for me anymore as the late riser that I am; coupled with it's  economic effect on my pocket. I gave up.


But today, I  decided to do abit of touch up which explains why I was late to work, still standing, I heared the sound of an approaching bus. In the bus was a lady waving at me as if she had seen an old friend.


I took a good look at her, she was wearing a midi brown dress which compliments her skin, her chubby cheeks took the form of a mini puff puff as she smiled and waved simultaneously. She was very pretty I must say, but she's not in my memory, trust me; I have searched.

At this point I figured she could be waving at someone behind me so I turned, just to see a blank space, oh! it must be me then.


I smiled back in a dutiful and courteous manner as I walked closer to her bus, she must have sensed my confusion so she shouted ‘Instagram!’ Instagram? This blew me away! You follow me on Instagram? She said yes! You need to see how my smile brightened, I actually blushed.


I was now standing by the door, what's your Instagram handle I asked her excitingly,  she mentioned it and it now makes sense. Wow, I love your page! I actually love her page, she promotes small businesses and women in business.

I'll be in her DM all day, maybe we can do some collaborations. Maybe she will become my friend. Wishful thinking.

MISS BLOOMINGTON

This is how these big stories start in little ways...

“Why don't you come over to my place?”, young Paul asked Miss Bloomington in response to her status update.


She had posted a status update that read “I'm so bored, I could do anything right now.” and Paul wasn't one to miss an opportunity. He was what you would call a Cristiano Ronaldo when it came to the opposite sex -always at the right place, at the right time and with the right moves.


Bloomington on the other hand was fresh on campus and out to explore, but she wasn't particularly open about it. You know girls and how they'd rather make you work for it,  than just give in to the hormones and save everyone the stress. Every girl's favourite quote would be “No food for a lazy man.”


She was already bored so nothing could be worse than that at this point so she pondered on it for a few minutes. She swung between the boredom, her hormones and what was left of her home training.


Then, she realised she didn't even have transport fare and it wasn't a battle she had to kill herself fighting today so she turned her data off, threw a bed spread on her purple, well-inched mattress and slept her ass off.

Moral Lesson: Before you start bothering yourself whether or not to accept an invitation, be sure you have transport fare.



Written by Tuzy for Awestafricangirl.
Edited by Molawa Olawale.

I AM RELATED TO THE LORD OF LIGHT.

         

It's 03:29, I am here and my excitement for this blog probably sent these blood sucking, malaria sharing anopheles mosquitoes to keep  me awake. Hold on; let me “kill them all” in Jon's voice and then go on to gist you about my ancestor.  Nothing's fair in love and war. This is war.


My grandmother is an interesting woman- shiny dark skin, beefy booty, long brown hair with silver linings. Fadeke was the strongest of them all. With her soul  piercing white eyes, she could read the mischief brewing in my mind.  I can still hear my ears echo from one of her slaps. Grandpa revered this woman till he died.

I was a nosy child, that irked a lot of adults. Back then,  children were simply not allowed to know some things. But what do you say to the adults? Not today.  I would balance my ear flat on the wooden door, listen to every word and return to my goons to serve hot gist. 3 out of the 10 times I was caught; I wished the Lord  of Light would come running to rescue one of his descendants.


Speaking of the lord of light, Fadeke would gather her grandchildren periodically to tell stories .  As she balances herself on the tall chair, we would take position on the mat at her feet. We were like her disciples. What's disturbing is, there's always a cane by her right side long enough to meet you in hell!



Once upon a time in the land of Egba, a great warrior was born. Dada made a grand entrance into the world with a stone in his left hand. Picture this, a newly born baby came prepared to stone Buhari to death? Buhahahaha. Regretfully;  baba followed the wrong Nysc batch.


Dada was so powerful he could control lightening and thunder; that's not all, he could also emit fire from his mouth! There you go, our very own Lord of Light! This made him a fierce warrior, who wouldn't be? Think about it, small darcays like this you'll see fai fia.


He once  electrocuted an entire court room because they were going to sentence him to death for the murder of his wife, hmmmm. I've had it, the curiosity in me would soon land me in trouble; I knew this. So I asked, grandma, if he is truly  your great grandfather; how come you don't have super powers?



She then said to me with her brightest smile, 'Come, come closer let me answer you specially'. Fadeke  barely smiles, something is off but I could not place it. I drew closer as requested, then it hit me. Her masculine hand hits my face hard! The sound of lightening mixed with thunder couldn't compare! Right there and then ; I was convinced she is truly a descendant of the Lord of Light. Period.




Written by Molawa Olawale.
Edited by Abayomi Olaofe.

MY AGBERO AND BUS DRIVER CHRONICLES. AJAH UNDER BRIDGE.

Talk about a burst of colours; my yellow bag and pink top was popping, I was ready for the day. Got to the bus stop, my favourite Agbero- tall, dark, huge chest and all was on duty, I was relieved. I would usually go to him to help me get a bus whenever there's a gbe body e situation.

He never smiles; I caught him once with my hawk eyes; it was a Kanye experience, the switch though.  Me  I sha saw what my eyes was looking for; his teeth was sparkling white but he's lost a tooth in the lower front row.

I restrained from saying hi this morning, the situation was within my powers, the conductor continued calling bus-stop rhythmically, different ushers for different buses persuading you to enter.  The call and response usually goes on till the bus is full.

I entered a white bus; I already know my seat, back row window side. That's my comfort zone, don't ask me why or how pliss. Ears plugged, music blasting, morale was high as per TGIF vibes nobody can steal my joy.

Few minutes before take-off, Simi’s sweet voice was gradually fading, I was just hearing gbas gbos gbas gbos, as if someone changed the music to Small Doctor but I was holding my phone so errrm no one can change the music right? Then I  looked up to see what's happening, it appears my fav agbero is also a good cook, he was just pounding the driver like cocoyam. Ah! Kilosele now now?

The amebo in me is fully awake now trying to catch up on the gist, As I watched the agbero drag the  driver from his seat mercilessly I turned to the  fair lady beside me : wetin happen? She replied with a non-attentive ‘I no know o' she; also trying to get a good view of the brawl.

Punches and slaps, plenty Yoruba flying in the air, I couldn't pick the words but I guess it was mostly about how I'll beat you to death. I was shamelessly looking out for the agbero, although he had the upper hand but ‘no be person wey first call police dey win case'

Las las, we won!  I mean the Agbero won the fight.  Passengers were already impatient, some dropped to enter another bus but as for me? We die here. I’m in my comfort zone come and drag me.




Written by Molawa Olawale.
Edited by Abayomi Olaofe.