The Reality of a Dream

Its amazing the kind of skills you immediately pick up when you live alone. Being solely responsible for myself has brought out the inner carpenter in me I never knew existed; as well as the amateur electrician and furniture assembler extraordinaire. I’ve found myself browsing through DIY websites with almost the same amount of zeal that was previously reserved for TSN and my favorite comedy series. It’s completely exhausting, and sometimes, I’m tempted to think; Independence sucks!

                                                 

Its funny, I remember being 12 years old and dreaming about the day I would grow up, have a career, an apartment of my own, and a closet full of fabulous shoes, maybe not necessarily in that order. I was absolutely convinced that these were the trinity of modern day success. I thought having these things would make me unbelievably happy. However, I conveniently forgot to consider a major personality flaw that I’ve been dealing with for years. Simply put, for as long as I can remember, I’ve had this horrid habit of wanting what I can’t have, the second I have it, I don’t want it anymore. A simple case in point; a while ago, I was just about to break a fast. Now for the duration of that fast, I had been fantasizing about a certain brand of milky chocolates. I told myself I’d get them as soon as the fast was over; I decided that I was going forgo them for awhile as part of depriving myself and focusing on God and all things heavenly. Well finally the D day comes, I rush over to my local supermarket and…its not there! Apparently they’d run out of stock. So, I hop into a cab and take a ride to another supermarket, then another…nada. You’d have thought the factory workers for the company had declared a strike on that particular brand. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I spent the next few days in a frenzy searching for them, from department store, to grocery shops, I even put out an S.O.S call to a few of my friends, asking them to contact me upon any sighting of the treats. Then just when I was starting to get really antsy, I spotted them! Finally! I spent a few seconds allowing myself to get really excited, rushed over to the counter and immediately paid for them, and then quickly tore open the wrapper. That was when I realized I had absolutely no desire whatsoever at that point to eat them. In typical Mimi fashion, I just didn’t want them anymore.

Well fast forward give or take a decade later. I have or am in the process of acquiring a few of the things that I dreamt about while growing up. Below, I have outlined a quick assessment of how far I’ve come and exactly how I feel about my current situation as regards the fulfillment of these dreams.

The career

I’m definitely grateful to have a job, especially in this economy. It’s great to have structure and I love waking up every morning and having somewhere to go and something to do. On the other hand, I don’t think I was quite prepared for the dreariness of bureaucracy, the battlefield that is office politics or the restrictive nature of corporate clothing. Honestly, the other day I was in the elevator when I spotted the reflection of a woman in a stuffy looking business suit in the mirror at the back. I didn’t think much of it until the man in the maroon suit stepped out on the next floor and I realized with a startle that the woman in the mirror was me. Seriously. At this point I’m thinking to myself, Really? I remember buying my first suit a little less than two years ago? Now I have a whole closet full. At the last count, I actually had more suits than jeans in my closet. Go figure

The apartment

Ok, I won’t lie. It’s nice amazing having my own space, and yeah by the way, I eventually found a place (See: Shelter & The City) I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But, I totally forgot about the responsibilities that come along with it. Like waking up on a cold morning and the water heater just absolutely refuses to come on, or opening a door and having the handle suddenly fly off in your face, or coming back home after a long day at work only to realize that your apartment is completely flooded because a pipe in your bathroom burst. (True story, happened to a friend of mine). Then of course there are the bills! Filling up a gas cylinder is annoyingly quite costly compared to what I initially thought. Now I completely understand why my mother freaked out all those years when I forgot the kettle on the cooker long after it had boiled. I also no longer get why I used to be so amused whenever I saw my little cousins crayon scribbles on their parents snow white walls. There is absolutely nothing funny about paying eight to sixteen thousand naira for a small can of four liters of paint. I repeat nothing funny at all.

The Shoes

I am still yet to acquire the fabulous collection of Louboutin’s, Choo’s, Blahnik’s and Prada’s. But knowing me, it’s totally possible that the day I buy my first overpriced designer shoes, I just may look at them and think, I’d kill for a pair of Primark sandals right now, they are so much more comfortable.

I guess at the end of the day, my strange personality quirk comes down to the principle of the grass being greener on the other side, with a small dash of the old saying be careful what you wish for.

Looking back, I realize that I should have been more thankful for the things that I had then, and spent a little less time dreaming of the things I felt would make me content. At the end of the day, having those things will not necessarily make you happier. So cliché yet so true.

I should have been grateful that I was still in school and didn’t have to face the reality of adult life, thankful that I had my family around me in my home, and, I guess at the moment, take delight in my Dorothy Perkins and Zara shoes knowing that my Chanel pumps are surely on their way to my walk in closet shoe rack.

With that in mind, I will also finally stop day dreaming about when I will own my own private jet. Who knows, I just might miss the good old days of delayed flights and annoying harassment from airport security officials. After all, stranger things have happened.

Cheers

Ma Travail Famille

                                                      
In a weird way, I’m starting to grow rather fond of my colleagues. I’m not saying I never was, but now, it’s starting to feel more like we’re one big, multicultural (albeit slightly dysfunctional) family of sorts. Like in every family, everyone has the role they play/position they occupy.

First up is Mr. X. He’s been with the organization since about three hours after the 'powers that be' realized that there was a need for its creation and existence. His Staff ID number contains shockingly few digits on it, and his entire CV reads like a history lesson on the organization. Unsurprisingly, he is the unofficial authority and  go-to guy  for consultations on how to navigate the muddy waters of company bureaucracy and politics. He has saved my neck quite a few times and for that I am deeply grateful. May he work live many more years *IJN. Amen.



Then, there’s The Madam, she of the ample hips and loud manners. The Madam is our resident expert on aproko matchmaking affairs. If you’re young and single, even if not particularly ready to mingle, The Madam has a special ‘sombori’ that she’s convinced is absolutely perfect for you. Never mind that outside the office environment, she has no idea who you are or what your interests, likes and preferences are. She got singles by the truckloads she can reach at the dial of a button, and she’s not afraid to force make an introduction between two obviously uncomfortable strangers, that usually results in an awkward exchange of numbers and false promises to get in touch.
                                                  

                                                     

I really like Lady CR. She’s completely clueless about the world around her in a way that is quite endearing. I really don’t think it matters that until a few months ago she thought London was a state in America. She’s really very sweet, hardly gets involved in any drama, and is genuinely concerned about the people around her. She’s the type that regularly asks you how your mother is coping with her knee, eleven months after you told her that she went for a minor surgery. I love the fact that she’s totally comfortable in her own skin and can laugh at her self quite freely.

Oga B is very cool. He can be really playful and childlike, I’ve raced him up the stairs a couple of times and sadly he beat me to it every time. He’s quite agile you see. I respect the fact that he’s so honest and never has a bad word to say about anyone even after working there for over ten years. He’s just a happy and cheerful fellow and I want to be just like him when I grow up.

The Doctor puts the A in Anal Retentive. He just can’t let go of stuff. Literally. When he was transferred to another department to the relief of my team and chagrin of his new colleagues, he insisted on hauling a desk that belonged to Mr. X up six flights of stairs to his new office. Simply because he thought his pen holder would look pretty on it. I also suspect it was some sort of ploy to intimidate the folks in his new department. A sort of “my desk area is larger than yours so-there” type of thing. I’m not quite sure it worked though. Last I heard, they’d declared mutiny towards him, as a result, he can often be found at his desk sharpening his pencils or roaming from office to office seeking idle chit chat. Ok, I kid, I kid, about the pencils I mean. But seriously, you get my drift?

“The Boys” work for a company that functions as a contract service provider to my organization. They are young and clearly very restless. It seems that the only thing they appear to have truly mastered in their months here, is the ability to list in alphabetical order all the beautiful young things that glide past their cubicles daily, according to the degree of their hotness. I however do not undermine the fact that they are really very brilliant at what they do. Anyone who thinks men are bad at multitasking needs to take a trip to my office on a fine weekday morning and watch “The Boys” as they work on their consoles, attend to staff and actively check out ‘babes’ while chatting on their phones simultaneously. Seriously, it’s quite impressive.

                                                                     

                                                                                    
Bobo is a recently employed junior staff just like me. He’s trying very hard to teach me Hausa. I am touched by the fact that he seems to think that I am making some sort of improvement. After all these months, I can barely murmur a “Lafia” to his daily “Inakwana”. I also suspect that he’s dating my friend, another junior staff with a thing for perfectly tailored designer shirts. Er, now I’m just being a complete busybody. On to the next one.

“The Lads” are a bunch of interns that hang around the same desk in a corner. They spend a fair amount of time playing games on the computer when they’re not being asked to do the menial jobs that no one else wants to do. By the way, I think there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this. Go #Team Speed Racer! I don’t know their names, because they seem to come and go in less time than it takes Aunty T to change her weaves. I’m too lazy to memorize names when I know they’re unlikely to still be around the next time I need some one to change my network cable. Oh well, we’ve all been interns at least once.

Aunty T is a remarkable business woman. I’ve heard from a reliable source that she owns quite a few buildings in the suburbs of Abuja. She seems to have a knack for spotting fantastic business opportunities. I love that the work she does at the company is just her day job. I love that she’s independently wealthy and doesn’t have to depend on just her salary. I do think she is in many ways a good role model for young women. I just wish she’d invest more frequently on weaves.

There are a few other people whose personalities aren’t rich enough to make for interesting reading on this blog. So let’s put them under the same category and call them “The Others”.

Then, of course, there is me. I’m quite sure that in a few years from now, there will be some smart ass, entry level employee who will sometimes, have nothing better to do than to write down witty and slightly sarcastic descriptions of the people around her on a blog. Luckily, for now, that smart ass seems to be me. And in a true display of nepotism, I choose to portray myself as; a hardworking, resourceful, and creative employee who is a true team player. #Notetofutureemployers.

                                                          

Whether you believe me or not is totally irrelevant, unless of course in the future you end up on the interview panel of my next job. In that case, the joke might just be on me.

*IJN: In Jesus name

Cheers

RE: THE STYLISH & VERSATILE AWARDS

Recently, I was awarded the THE STYLISH & VERSATILE AWARDS by NaijaMum


I would like to say a big thank you to her for this honour AND in keeping with the tradition of this blogger award, reveal seven random facts about myself. So here goes:

Seven (7) Things I love/hate about me:

1. I absolutely love fried food. Plantain, Chicken, Pancakes and Scrambled Eggs, you fry it, I’ll eat it. I guess that’s why in the words of Bridget Jones aka Renee Zellweger “I will probably always be just a little bit fat” Hehehehehehe. #Team Size 12!

2. I get bored very easily. I seem to suffer from restless mind syndrome. The second I feel like I’m not being mentally stimulated enough, I switch off and go into this zone where I start to think up random thoughts, some times about the people around me. (See:A Case of Mental Stalking). I have been caught by my friends many a times chuckling to my self or *cringe* soliloquizing. I swear I’m not crazy. I just have an over active imagination. *smiles*

3. I can be very fussy and/or anal about the littlest things. e.g what table to sit at during lunchtime at the canteen. I know, I know, I need to learn to let things go and move with the flow. I’m working on it.

4. I suck at math. Apparently, this explains why I have a really poor sense of direction; it’s so bad that sometimes I feel like I could get lost in my own bedroom. Sad but true. Sigh.

5. Ironically. I’m a really fast learner. I may stumble my way through the first time or two I’m introduced to something new. Then I reach the tipping point and become a total pro seemingly overnight. The only exception to this rule is at math and all things mathematically inclined (See Number 4 above)

6. I secretly think our Minister of Foreign Affairs is HOT! *embarrassed smiley*

7. Hi, I Mimi B and I am a news junkie. There’s something about knowing what’s happening where, at what time and by whom that gives me a total rush. I could easily marry a journalist and we’d be vey happy together, watching CNN et al all and discussing current affairs day long…

I hereby as is expected give this award to 15 other bloggers. So in no particular order, the award goes to:

thisisthediaryofanotmadblackwoman

jchubeta

temiville

9javatar

adehoneyinxs

gbemisoke

thirdworldprofashional

JouDeLZ

jadore-fashion

onenigerianboy

madphury

lookingglassofanimmigrant

sussieagbons

mytwokobo

TalesByMoonlight


Cheers.

An Embarassing Tale

                                   
I have a friend who never gets embarrassed.


She baffles me quite frankly. I get very embarrassed, very often, probably at least once a day.

Now, my friend, let’s call her *Jane is in many ways your very typical, happy go-lucky young woman. She’s a total Sanguine, always upbeat, extremely down to earth and almost annoyingly constantly cheerful.

On the day she made this revelation about herself, we were having one of those nostalgic conversations where you reminisce about your secondary school years and all the antics you got up to back then. The chores you skipped, illegal provisions you snuck in, boys you totally ignored because you secretly had a crush on, etcetera, etcetera. She’d just concluded a story on some particularly wild behavior that landed her and her friends in trouble; the school authorities had brought them before the whole assembly the following morning in a bid to punish them through ridicule.

“Oh my gosh” I said “you must have been so humiliated, I’d have been”

At this she shrugged “Nope”

Really?

Then she tells me that she’s never been embarrassed in her entire life. “Honestly Mimi, I don’t really get it when people say they’re embarrassed, I have no clue what they’re talking about. It’s not an emotion I’ve ever felt”

I am stunned. Then she asks me what kinds of things humiliate me; lots of things actually, being called out for deviant behavior in front of a crowd of my peers for example.

“What else”?

Being nabbed mental stalking, being caught in a fib, bumping into an old secondary school rival at an event where she looks totally glam, and you’re having a bad hair and everything else day (not saying it happened to me, I’m just ‘ahem’ saying, you know?) Loads of things

“Why”?

“Why what”?

“Why do I feel embarrassed when any of these things happen to me”?

“Well, because any normal person would”?

She objects to this, “I’m normal and I never get embarrassed” she said.

So I start to really think about it, and when I’m done, I believe I have the answer.

I think it has more to do with the fact that my minor choleric nature has perfectionist tendencies, which puts pressure on me to be perfectly behaved at all times. Whenever I feel like I’ve dropped the ball, or not lived up to my standards, the result is instant mortification.

It seems I need to learn to give myself a break. I am not perfect and God doesn’t expect me to be, He only wants me to strive towards it.

In a bid to do this, and become more like my friend, I shall from hence forth adopt the following behavior/attitude:

1. I shall no longer tell fibs:

Quite frankly, there is no such thing as a white lie. Telling your best friend “No, creating a fake FaceBook personality/profile so you can track your ex’s every ‘like’ is not creepy at all!” or, in a conversation with your colleagues claiming that “of course you’d date a homeless guy in a heartbeat if he was really, super nice, after all, It’s the love that truly counts”, is actually an outright lie. Having such fibs exposed can leave you (or your best friend) feeling extremely ashamed.



2. I shall always be perfectly put together /poised at social gatherings:

Yes. I shall ensure that I have my game on at all times. From now on, prior to any event where I suspect that there maybe obnoxious members of the Nigerian Paparazzi, or, that I know is likely to be a gathering for young, upwardly mobile, city dwellers, I shall arrive prepared. What’s five or six hours of facials, manicures, pedicures, massages, waxing, stringing, plucking, pulling shaving and flat ironing/curling of my hair extensions (Erm, Peruvian, no less) if it saves me the humiliation of been seated beside a former School Senior/Bully looking anything less than Chic?



3. I will no longer feel the need to explain myself at all times:

If you happen to live in my apartment building, and you frequently see me stumbling home at 12am on Saturday mornings, you can choose to assume that I’ve been very, very, naughty that weekend. I really will cease to be bothered by this, as I know that any attempt to explain that I may be coming back form a church organized activity for workers will be met with unbelieving smirks and knowing winks. I know what I did last weekend, and trust me; it was far less exciting than you think.



4. I will desist from any behavior that may result in my being called out in front of my organization, to be used as an example of how not to behave and break company ethics. Being led away to the back of a Black Maria Van by the EFCC while over two thousand people, may of whom know me look on is not what I consider the best way to learn a lesson in “How not to care about others opinions of you”

At the end of the day, that would just be plain embarrassing.

Cheers

Avoiding Social Profiling: A Christmas Guide

Criminal Profiling:The act of drawing on prior research and knowledge to create a psychological profile of an unknown criminal offender. Criminal profiles are created in order to allow law enforcement to catch criminals more efficiently.

 

Folks! Its that time of the year again. The time when the city streets empty out, the markets become full of tacky looking coloured lights and badly packed hampers, and our local TV stations start to air live footage of the ubiquitous children’s parties, crammed full of kids in their ‘Christmas Dresses’. We are forced at times for hours on end, to watch as they give shout outs to their “their Mummy and their Daddy and their brother and their sister and their teachers and their friends”, while clutching tightly to their nylon bags filled with plastic toys and cheap biscuits that Father Christmas gave to them.

 

It is also the time to become especially wary of the Nigerian law enforcement agents who completely ignore the science of criminal profiling in favor of what I like to call, Social Profiling.

 

Social profiling as opposed to criminal profiling is the act of drawing upon stereotypes, assumptions, personal perceptions and prejudices, to create a physical profile of a non criminal, accused offender.

  

Simply put, the intent behind criminal profiling is to arrest and prosecute criminals, in order to make the society a safer place. The intent behind social profiling is to harass and embarrass law abiding citizens in order to financially enrich certain members of the Executive arm of government.

 

                                        

 

 

 

 A number of these law enforcement agents take a great amount of pride in what they perceive to be their resourcefulness in applying their Social profiling skills to unsuspecting members of the public. Most vulnerable to this, are the road users who are fortunate (unfortunate?) enough to own private vehicles, and possess enough knowledge of how to operate them along our nation’s roads, streets and highways.

 

Driving a car in Nigeria I am told is simply not what it used to be. It is not enough to ensure that you take care to obey all traffic rules and regulations and stay awake long enough to arrive at your destination safely. Some street smarts are also required in order to ensure that one does not become a victim of an over zealous social profiling officer.

 

 
 
 
 
 

Popular opinion seems to suggest that certain demographics are far more vulnerable to this form of harassment than others. For example, young, single women driving vehicles are far more likely to be pulled over for a stop and asked to produce the obligatory documents/items before they may be allowed to go on their way.

 

 

 

Middle aged men who appear to be private chauffeurs are also routinely checked, as well as cars full of young men between the ages of 18-30 who may seem to be having way too much fun. Woe betide the unfortunate driver who lacks any thing from a fire extinguisher to a waste paper basket (yes, I’ve been told they ask for those as well), you shall surely pay for your mistake, through the exchange of a certain kind of paper.

 

To avoid becoming a prey of social profiling this joyous season, one may need to employ any of the following measures:

 

• Engage in light banter and convince your profiler that you really understand where he is coming from; he is not a bad person, only a victim of an unfortunate circumstance/system. Then shake his hand.

• Prominently display a sticker representing one of the arms of the executive or legislature in order to convince profilers that you are either one of them or extremely well connected to some of them. This gives the impression that pulling you over might end up being more trouble than it is worth

• Appear to be a gentleman who is a member of the middle to upper financial class and put on an aloof expression throughout the entire exchange

• Be a woman. Cry. Explain that you had no idea that you were expected to drive around town with the original copy of your car’s receipt, which you were given at the dealership where you bought it three years ago. You promise you will never, do it again. Ever. Then offer to drive them to your husbands’ office at the National Assembly or official office of the State Governor so he can assure them that the car you are driving is indeed your property. Watch them immediately begin to scatter in different directions while energetically urging you to get into you vehicle and drive away, as fast as you can, as soon as you can, and pretend the whole thing never happened.

• Step out of your vehicle. Claim to be a lawyer and pretend to jot down the identification numbers on their name tags. To appear more authentic, it will be useful at this time to reach into your glove compartment and begin to rummage through it in a bid to produce your personal copy of the constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. They must be made to understand that you know your rights and will not be intimidated.

 

• Pick up your cell phone, dial a number and say “Hello? Uncle GoodLuck? Yes it’s me, good afternoon-“ Then look up, realize that there is no one standing in front of your car, switch on your ignition and drive off into the sunset.

 

 

 

If all of these fail, put on your very best smile and heartily wish them a very Merry Christmas. Tis the season to be jolly after all.

Cheers



                                    

A Gift of Thanks

Its amazing how sometimes, we hear the same words of advice over and over again and yet never think it applies to us. Recently, and I mean, very, very, recently. I realized how completely and totally ungrateful I’ve been.



God has been so amazing to me this year.


I finished my Youth Service and was retained by the organization I served in. In spite of the fact that I was told throughout my entire service year that this would never happen, as the company had placed an embargo on employment. To be fair, the embargo was strictly complied with throughout the year, lifted temporarily to allow me (and my batch members) to be employed as staff, and then placed back on firmly. If this isn’t a miracle then I don’t know what is. To be honest, God was faithful, He led me to sow a certain seed while I was serving and I obeyed even though it wasn’t always easy. Looking back, I have no idea how I did it. All I can say is that God deeply loves us “and wishes above all things that we prosper and be in good health” and somehow the grace for obedience came upon me supernaturally. So at the end of the day, it all comes back to him.


So, I got a job, without hustling, writing a test or knowing any Uncle on the Director’s floor. It came to me on a platter of gold, ‘and the Lord gave it to me as a free gift, smiling as He gave it to me’. So with all this, you’d think I would have been out of this world excited the day I got the call that I was offered the job right? Nope. Quite the opposite. I’d gone back to Lagos immediately after my Passing out Parade (POP) and was looking forward to grown up life in the big city of Las Gidi. In my own mind, I had no intention what so ever of settling down in Abuja. I didn’t want to leave my comfort zone and my family and circle of friends. So it was with tantrums and tears that I was bundled on a plane, mentally kicking and screaming, back to the F.C.T, where I knew so many people longed for an opportunity to live and work in. I just felt I wasn’t one of those people. Throughout this entire ordeal, the only thing that gave me comfort was knowing that I would be returning to the amazing church that I had found a home and comfort in during my service year.


So I came back, and I have to say I have no regrets. Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t all been fun and games, and I am still trying to settle down in some ways. But, I have now come to accept and understand the simple fact that I had been hearing all my life, as someone who was born into a Christian family; that God has a unique plan and special purpose for my life. I am at peace, because I know that


“The plans he has to wards me are thoughts of good and not of evil, to give me a hope and a future”


I may not know what the year 2011 will bring, or even where I will spend this Christmas but the Lord knows. That’s all I need to remember, that my life could not be in better hands than that of the Lord God Almighty.



In addition to blessing me with a job, I can honestly say that many of the prophecies that my Pastor and Mentor, Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo has said over my life in the last few months are already coming to pass and I am amazed, over whelmed and grateful to the Lord most high. Truly this has been a remarkable year.



It has not been without its share of challenges though. And difficult ones at that I must say. It’s been hard, but God has and continues to see me and my family through.


Now back to the issue of my ungratefulness. I realized like I said, very recently that I had been choosing to focus on the things that hadn’t worked out this year, instead of being grateful for the things that had worked. My thanksgiving and praise had been so fleeting, and my complaining, asking and grumbling had been lingering.


Now, I seek his forgiveness. I have been listening to an amazing sermon by another of my mentors Reverend Sam Adeyemi called “Thanksgiving” and I know that I must give an offering of praise and thanksgiving for all that he has done for me.



“Be cheerful no matter what; pray ALL the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live” 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18 (MSG)



This is the scripture I have been mediating upon for awhile and it has given me great comfort, peace and joy.


So yes, like I said I choose to be Grateful and not a Great Fool


In addition to the “big things” I am just as grateful for the “little things as well”. This Christmas, I am thankful for many things a few of which I shall mention:


I am grateful to be healthy. I have had friends and family spend Christmas in the hospital on their sick beds away from their family and loved ones. I am grateful to not be in that position


I am grateful for my friends both new and old who have been great sources of joy and blessing in my life


I am grateful for the peace that I have which passes all human understanding and for joy unspeakable


I am grateful for my new nephew, whom I already love with all my heart.


I am grateful for the freedom I have to worship the Lord as I desire, how I desire, when I desire. It means so much to me in ways only God can understand.


I am grateful for the opportunity I have had to be so blessed by various men and women of God in the last few weeks. It’s been such a privilege.


Above all, I am thankful for life. Mine; as well as that of my family and friends.


Flowing from my heart, are the issues of my heart. It’s…..gratefulness.


This Christmas, what are you thankful for?


Merry Christmas people.


Cheers.

The Ten Conversations

There are several conversations I would happily and willingly never, ever, have again, if it were up to me. I am tired of answering certain questions about myself, my background, my name, my race, my beliefs, my boyfriend, or lack thereof. I would love to be able to use this medium to officially tell all Ye “Aproko Ninjas”, to please MYOB- Mind Ya Own Business, but I know that that will never be.

Therefore, I hereby proceed to outline all the conversations that I never want to have again, in the hope that answering all those questions here and now will save me from ever having to repeat them ever again. So here goes:

1. My name is Weyinmi and no I’m not Yoruba. My full name is Oritseweyinmi. It is Itsekiri, and yes, I am aware that it means ‘watch my back’ in the Yoruba Language. Every third Yoruba person I have ever met in my life (and having lived in Lagos trust me I have met plenty) has told me so. So please feel free not to repeat that particular piece of information to me. I already know.

2. My name is WE-YIN-MI. It is three syllables. How hard can that be to pronounce? Please refrain from calling me any of the following; Wah-yeh-me, We-hi-n-mi, or Why me. I especially cannot stand it when people call me Barbara. My last name is Barber, unless we are in a formal/professional setting, please call me Weyinmi. It is my name and I have no problem with it. If I am not you Aunty, please don’t call me Aunty, even if you are three years old. If I am not your Sister, please don’t call me Sister, even my brother doesn’t call me that. Also, I checked my birth certificate a while back, and I am quite certain that I saw none of the above written as prefixes before my name.


3. No. I don’t speak my language. Or my mother’s language. Or any of the indigenous languages spoken in any of the Nigerian cities I grew up in, and I am deeply ashamed of this fact. There is no need for you to make me feel any worse about the matter by quizzing me about it. I know it is a totally disgrace, and I still think that some day, I will wake up rapping in Itsekiri, singing in Delta Ibo, and Soliloquizing in Hausa. Till that day, please give me breathing space about the matter.

4. I am from Delta State; I also have ancestry from Sierra Leone. It is a long story and I never feel like talking about it.

                                         

5. I only have one sibling. Yes, that means my parents only had two children. Why? Well I really don’t know you’d have to ask them. Maybe they were trying to be the poster children for birth control, or maybe, just maybe, they were satisfied with having a son and a daughter and didn’t see the need for any more. We may never truly know.

6. No, I didn’t break my arm as a child. If you have any questions about my genetic make up, you can ask the big man upstairs. Please don’t ask me. Believe it or not, I actually didn’t make myself or get to choose what I’d like to look like. None of us did. So asking people why they look the way they do is just impolite.

7. I may or may not have a boyfriend. If I do, he is none of your business, unless I think he is and then I will freely and gladly tell you all about him. If I don’t, it is none of your business, unless I think it is, and then I will freely and gladly tell you all about it.

8. I don’t do favorites; as a result I don’t have a favorite colour, book, author, actor, actress, ice cream flavor, musician, genre of music, TV series, movie, website, designer, or anything in particular. I love many variations of different things.

9. Yes. I am a deeply spiritual person. I love to talk listen to and talk about ‘The Word’ of God, and I strongly believe in the power of speaking/praying in tongues. I am very, very far away from perfect, but I believe in living right according to the bible’s instructions. That means; No cheating/stealing/doing dodgy deals/fornicating/lying/telling dry jokes (Oh wait, that’s not a sin? Well it should be) etcetera, etcetera. I am trying really hard to make heaven here, and I’m sure many of you out there are just like me. What? I don’t look like it? Why? What do believers look like? Oh I see. Hmmm. I’m going to need to dedicate an entire blog post to fully address this issue, maybe I’ll do so, sometime in the future.

10. If you have any conversations you never, ever want to have again, please feel free to let me know about it.


Cheers.