Untitiled

I find men to be utterly fascinating. I really do. I think they are generally very direct, straight to the point, simple creatures. I like how they tend to see things in black and white. I like how they don’t over analyze things or get too emotionally involved when dealing with situations. Women sometimes tend to over think things, men generally don’t.

It is simple. One day, I was having a conversation with this Dude who was all up in my business at the time. I knew I could never go into a relationship with him, and I was trying to let him down gently, but he was being so persistent. So I decided in a flash of inspiration to use an analogy to get my message across.

“Okay” I said “Imagine if you for whatever reasons that are personal to you, decided that you wanted a blue ball. As in that’s what you really want. Blue or nothing right?” He nodded. “So what do you do? You go to the market, to people who sell stuff like that, and you search far and wide. You see many, many balls, in different colors, red, white, green, yellow, brown, but-no blue. What do you do? You go home, and decide to either come back another day or to go to another market and continue your search from there. Right?”

He stared at me slightly puzzled “Er no, wrong. I buy any ball I see, red, green whatever, take it home and paint it blue. Simple, why would I want to keep walking around?”

Two things hit me in that moment 1. That I had failed miserably in getting my message across and would have to think up another strategy  2.The huge difference in the way men and women solve problems.

I took an emotional stance towards solving the problem, I had to find the perfect colour or nothing, and I was willing to walk the ends of the earth (or at least the breadth of Lagos State markets) in search of it. He wasn’t. What he was willing to do was take whatever was available and make it work. This was a few years ago, when I was still in the early stages of coming to the realization that men were from Mars and women from Venus.

You know what though? The thing about being practical is that it simplifies things. Women are not the visual creatures men are. This means that with a few exceptions *cough* (you-know-yourselves), physical attractiveness is not as important to us as it is for men. I have lost count of the number of times I have heard a female say something along the lines of “Oh I really wasn’t attracted to him at all when we first met, but then when I got to know him better, my feelings totally changed. Now, I think he’s really cute”

Well, I, Mimi B have personally NEVER, ever met, seen or heard of a man who said the same thing. If a man is not attracted to a woman, then nothing for her period. No matter how nice or charming he finds her. No matter how well they get along and how much they have in common. No matter that they can talk on the phone for hours and he finds himself confiding in her. He simply puts her in the ‘friendship’ pile and there she will remain, until she wisens up, gets rid of any feeling she may have towards him, dusts herself up and get back out there. As long as he does not find her physically attractive or appealing, he will never take their relationship from a friendship to something more intimate.  Shikena.

I’m not quite certain that this is a bad thing though. I think men were created that way for a reason. That’s why (in my opinion) women have the ability to alter their appearance in ways that a man simply cannot. What I am saying, is that I really believe that there are no ugly women, simply lazy ones.  All na packaging. As long as a woman looks reasonably put together, sooner or later, men will come knocking.

I believe that the differences in the way either gender sees things has led to a lot of misunderstanding, misconceptions and  miscommunication over the years, decades and centuries (millennia even?). Like was mentioned in my last post, it seems women are naturally more expressive. We like to talk about our feelings and analyze what went wrong. The result of this is that most relationship stories out there are told from a woman’s perspective.

This brings me to the point of my post. I would like to give a few guys out there the opportunity to air their views and express their opinions on my blog. I want to hear relationship stories, the good, the bad, the ugly and the wonderful, all told from a male stand point. I am also interested in receiving write ups about any rants or raves you guys have about the female folk.  I have decided to title this series “He Speaks” and will run it alongside my normal posts on my random, mulls, rants, etcetera, read-my-blog title-and-you’ll-get-the-drift-posts.

Any interested contributors should feel free to contact me via email on: mimibarberblogspot@gmail.com.

I am more than willing to put up guest posts anonymously if a contributor so desires. I am aware of the fact that not everybody is comfortable putting their personal business out there. So, if you’d like to remain anonymous, please state so clearly in your email.

I look forward to your responses.

For those of you who are wondering, yes,  you are absolutely right. This post is partly a shameless plug to increase the number of my male readers. But it is also inspired by a genuine interest in the subject content.

Cheers

Calling Male Bloggers

Over a period of time, I have noticed that the readers of my blog seem to be largely female. At first I had no problem with this, and then I became slightly perturbed at the idea that I may be chasing a way a male readership without realizing it.

In a bid to make my blog more male friendly, I asked a few guys who have been on my blog how they thought I could make it more appealing to the male folk. I got a few interesting answers which I have decided to share with you below:

“It is rather feminist you know?” One told me. He said this in a low tone while watching me carefully to observe my reaction. I suppose he was worried I may get overly defensive. I didn’t. I was actually slightly amused. I gather he was referring to This post, which in all honesty I wrote mainly for the laughs. I felt like if I could address a few serious issues in the society I live in with a bit of humor then why not? I don’t recall making any references to bra burning or trying to pass across some feminist agenda messages *shrug* 

“Why is there so much pink?” asked another. I gather he’s referring to my background image and choice of font colors. Again, I selected this design because I wanted the blog to look vibrant and fresh. Can  I ask that you guys please look beyond my template and design and focus on the content instead? I can? Why thank you! You see, male bloggers rock.!

“You talk about shoes. A lot. Guys generally don’t really like to read about shoes”. Hahahahaha.  Noted. Maybe I should try putting up the results of the latest soccer matches instead, or talk about cars. That wouldn’t be too hard. I love cars…..

“You look at things through a very female perspective”. Sigh. It is true. I suppose that may have something to do with the fact that I am a female. Ok, maybe I should put up guest posts by male blogger’s from time to time….that may not be such a bad idea. I usually find it refreshing to hear things from a male perspective.  

Ok. I hereby openly and formally request that any interested contributors should send me an email. I’m particularly interested in content that is in line with the overall ‘voice’ of this blog. i.e witty, insightful  posts about ideas, thoughts, observations about life in general. They have to be strictly PG though *smiles*

“I think that there are generally more female’s in blogosphere than males. It’s probably because women in general tend to be more expressive in nature. You guys like to talk about and analyze things. For every male glossy magazine out there, there are ten more targeting the women folk.”  Hmmm. I think this dude may have a point. What do you guys think? Are there really more female bloggers out there?  Or am I just really unconsciously scaring off the guys with subliminal feminist messages?

An Ode to Friendship

I love my girlfriends.

I have always been slightly suspicious of women who brag about the fact that they don’t ‘do’ female friendships. Personally, I think girl friends rock. There are so many things you can share with another female that a man will never really understand. Like periods for example. Tell your best guy buddy that you’re having monster sized cramps and he’ll probably mutter an uncomfortable ‘sorry’ just before he speeds off or immediately changes the subject. Tell your girlfriend the same thing, and you’re immediately inundated with phrases like ‘Oh so sorry dear’ ‘Aww, I know how you feel’ and suggestions on what pain relieving tactics to employ. Alternatively, she may prescribe painkillers she’s sure will help based on her personal experience or that of a trusted friend and may even loan you her hot water bottle.  I once had a male doctor tell me that he thought Dysmenorrhea was a function of women’s imaginations. I wanted terribly to smack him.

Male friendships definitely have their place, but I honestly don’t know what I’d do with out my girl friends. They are the only ones who truly get why I need several pairs of black heels. A man just doesn’t know that you can’t wear black pumps with everything. If you think about it why should he? He can wear the same pair of black shoes with almost ever outfit he has and it’ll work just fine. A woman simply cannot.

My guy friends don’t understand my fondness for glossy magazines, or that burgundy and plum are shades of red. They don’t know how I feel when I’ve been standing for hours in heels and they can’t advice me on whether I should use a ‘Premium’ or ‘Supreme’weave to make the hairstyle similar to what I recently saw on Kelly Rowland. In a lot of ways they quite simply don’t get it.

My girlfriends on the other hand do. I can trust them for advice on things that I would hesitate even if slightly before sharing with my closest guy pal.

Like cars, they come in all shapes and sizes.

There is the one I will call my ‘superficial’ friend. The first thing she wants to know as soon as I’ve mentioned that I’ve met a guy is, in this exact order “Is he cute? How tall is he? What car does he drive? Where does he live? What does he do for a living? Is he a smart dresser? My friend I don’t want to see you near any random guy o, just know now’. As vain as she may sound, I really do think she serves a purpose, which is to remind me not to settle for less. Only thing is our definitions of ‘less’ varies greatly.

Then there’s my really spiritual friend. I use the word really intentionally because most of my friends are spiritual (not religious) people anyways.  As soon as I mention I’ve met a boy all she wants to know is “Where does he worship? Have you heard him pray? Do you think your destiny’s can function together? What is his belief system? I just want to make sure that you’re not unequally yoked you know”

My practical friend likes to keep it real. She wants to know “Are you guys compatible? What are the things you really don’t like about him? Is he supportive of you? Do you think you guys have any potential for longevity? I just don’t want to see you in a crash and burn situation you know”

My idealistic friend is the complete opposite, ever the romantic; all she really cares about is my answer to the all important question “Are you in love? Because if at the end of the day you’re not, then there is not point you know” she says.

Like I said I love my girlfriends.

I’m sure my gushing, might lead some people to think that I’m just blessed to have a bunch of people around me who are just perfect. Far from it. There have been fights, hurtful words said in the heat of the moment and tempers frayed. We are not in any way perfect; we are just people who constantly and openly practice the art of forgiveness. Show me two friends who have never had a disagreement and I guarantee you that at least one of them is pretending. I read that on someone’s blog, can’t quite remember whose and it just stuck with me because I think it is so true.

Sometimes when I hear from female friends’ stories of betrayals and the like from other females, I gently challenge them to

1. Ask themselves in all honesty if they in any way intentionally or otherwise through their words or actions contributed towards the actions of the person who admittedly wronged them.
2. Ask them to try to see things from the other person’s perspective. Sometimes, standing in another person’s corner of the room allows you to see things from a different angle.

I am not undermining the fact that there are people out there that you are better of withdrawing from in order to lead a healthier and happier life. I am just saying, that sometimes the person who thinks that there is something wrong with everyone else should accept that they are the common factor in all these failed relationships.

My girl friends bring joy to my life and enrich it in many ways. They are not many true, but I think that it is better to have a handful of good friends than a room full of bad ones.

I was inspired to write this post as an ode to female friendship because I think there is far too much negativity associated with the subject far too often.

Today, take time out to be thankful for the gift of female friendship. The bible says that "A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly; and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother" Proverbs 18:24 (KJV) allow me to paraphrase when I say I believe this extends to sisters as well. 

P.S 

Ok so I know this isn't really an ode per say, seeing as it is not a poem, just stick with me on this : )

Cheers.

Dear Mimi

Dear Mimi,

How are you? Well, actually, I know exactly how you are. You’re bored out of your mind aren’t you?

Right now, you’re probably at home watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer because you are still yet to realize how silly that show really is. You’re also waiting for your SSCE results to be released and hoping it comes out in time for you to start filling that college application form bought with love by The Brother, and sent down from his campus in Accra. Your mind is running in a million different directions thinking of what your near future might look like. Well, that’s exactly why I wrote you this letter. To give you an idea about how things turned out in the next few years. A sort of peek into your destiny if you will. 

Well, the first thing I want to tell you is that you didn’t end up in The Brother’s school after all. It’s a long story but-actually no it really isn’t. By the time your admission letter turned up, you were already a registered student at the School you swore you’d never in a million years attend. Yeah, that one where you can’t dye your hair like you really wanted to and have to wear a skirt at all times. Sorry. It wasn’t so bad though, you met some really cool people and grew to appreciate the power of a perfectly fitted pencil skirt.


More importantly, this was also around the time when your relationship with the Lord grew in leaps and bounds, and you did things you’d never done before. It was truly amazing how differently you began to view the world and your place in it. Those were special times.


During your holidays, you had to do a number of internships. It was part of the requirement for the course you chose to study you see. This was where you got your first taste of what it felt like to join the rat race and work for a living. It was equal parts horrible and delightful all at the same time. You had to wake up at 4:30am everyday so you could make the commute to your office. That really sucked. But there were good times as well, like when you picked up your first pay check, and immediately spent most of it on a new pair of black, suede peep toe shoes. They were well worth it though.



This was also when you met that boy.



When you were done with school, you interned at this other really cool place because you didn’t want to sit at home bored while you waited for your call up letter. So while your mates were chilling, you were waking up early and rushing to work everyday, yeah you’re anal like that.



You got sent far away from home for service year. Don’t worry though; the whole thing wasn’t quite as traumatic as you feared. You ended up staying back there against your wishes at first but then grew to love the place as you went on to meet another set of really cool folks.



I want you to know that you now have a nephew, and as opposed to what your huge ego was telling you for months, he looks absolutely nothing like you. Well except for the eyes, which as you well know is a family trademark.



Ivory is a big girl now; she’s all grown up and in the University. By the way, well done o, as it turned out, you’ve created a fashion monster. No matter what she might say, just know that all those years of playing dress up with her, and teaching her how to mix and match made her develop some serious shakara (we call it swagger now). I’m serious, her own pass me sef, it’s getting out of control but what can I really do except buy her more shoes.



Before I forget, please stop thinking of Olly and Cherry as your benchmark for the perfect relationship. I really don’t want to corrupt your innocent mind; but there’s so much nastiness going on in there that you’ll be shocked when you eventually get to find out. It takes more than being really pretty and having a boyfriend who’s well known to have a healthy dynamic in your relationship. The last I heard she had dropped out of school and he had moved to a different country and they have nothing but unpleasant memories between them.


By the way, Ms Knowsitall got knocked up and had to marry her baby daddy is married now. She was one of the first people you know to tie the knot.


For those fleeting moments when you wonder, yes you have in fact stopped growing. You will after all have to spend the rest of your life having to deal with Mummy calling you short. Just keep reminding her that 5”5 is considered average height for a woman. You are also still not a size eight (well actually you are in The States and even smaller) but you have learnt to deal it and moved on.



If I could give you any peace of advice, I’d tell you to relax, be nicer and stop watching Buffy!

Whatever will happen, will happen, and I promise you’ll always have help to deal with whatever The Lord allows life to send your way. Please, please, please be nicer. Not everyone has ulterior motives. As for Buffy, well, first of all it is just plain evil. Being best friends with a Witch who likes to summon demons for fun is just wrong, no matter how fun/cool/not creepy-at-all they try to make it look. Also, like I said earlier, it’s just a silly show. 

Some things have really changed:

Uncle J is now filthy rich

You grew to love shrimps

Miss P is married to a white man

But others haven’t:


You hate Macaroni

Mumsie yells-a-lot

NEPA (we call them PHCN now) still ‘takes light’


I really can’t remember anything else that you might like to know. Sorry if I left anything out but the truth is you’ll find out soon enough anyway. But I hope I’ve really covered most of the important stuff.


Guess what though? I still have my prom dress somewhere in my closet and yes it still fits perfectly.

See you in the future.


Cheers

The Makings of a Wife

When I grow up, I think I’d quite like to be a wife. Or at least buy one.

I mean a real one. Well, a real African/Nigerian one I suppose. You know, the kind who wears a Bou- Bou and likes to pound things.

I say this because right now, in many ways, that is very far away from whom I actually am. For starters, I despise the Bou-Bou. It’s very unflattering; who ever came up with the idea of a loose, shapeless female garment should be flogged in my opinion. No matter how hard one tries to dress it up, it always gives off a distinctly unfinished vibe, like “oh I just threw this on while I think about what my next outfit should look like”. All the busy patterns and embroidery you see on some of them , put there I suppose by the designer in a bid to make them look more fancy; only serves to make the wearer look like an enormous wall painting. Then there are the ones that come complete with their matching scarves, to finish off the horrible look. Sorry o, but until drab, unbecoming chic becomes the new in thing, I think I’ll pass, thank you very much.

Then of course, there is the constant need to appear, well for lack of a better term, like an African version of "Susie Homemaker". Your in laws are showing up for the weekend? Why your house must be scrubbed top to bottom and your freezer filled to the brim with all kinds of food items from that market on the other side of town. The one where you have to spend two hours in traffic both ways to get there and back; yes that one. This must be done in order to avoid embarrassing one’s spouse by not allowing the relatives to ‘carry gist’ back to Mama and Papa about their lazy, over indulged daughter-in-law who refused to feed them properly.

I’d quite like to do this as well; if only I didn’t loathe going to the market. It’s an inherited condition. Honest. I used to be quite ashamed of the fact growing up, I kept mute about it for the most part, trudging along with my mother from as early as the age of nine, while silently detesting every second of it. It was my own dirty little secret. Then, when I was about eighteen an amazing thing happened, I discovered that I wasn’t alone. It turns out; I have two aunts who are exactly the same way. One hasn’t been to a market in over a decade, the other makes well planned out in advance monthly trips, buying copious amounts of foodstuffs so she doesn’t have to endure the misery for at least another month. Apparently, I take after them in this manner, so before you judge me do realize that it’s not my fault. You see, it’s hereditary. I’d also like to state here for the record that both of them have families (husbands and children) who are extremely well fed and suffer no obvious symptoms of malnourishment. Somehow they make it work. I was curious as to how exactly they did that and proceeded to ask the second one how she coped with only monthly trips.

“Well”, she said “after buying in bulk a lot of what I need, I send someone from time to time to help me get top ups of fresh meat and veggies, things like that to add to what I have at home”. Sounds brilliant to me, but did her husband have any issues with it? She shrugged “Oh he whines about it from time to time, growing up, he had one of those mothers who cooked a fresh pot of soup everyday”. She rolled her eyes “Whenever he says to me, ‘I really hate that you avoid going there at all costs’, I always say, well, if there’s only one thing you hate about me I think I can live with that, cause all I ever hear day in and out is how much you love me’ She grinned. They have been happily married for over ten years.


Then, there is the birthing of babies. It is excruciating. I know this because my cousins, friends, aunts, colleagues, well wishers and enemies alike have told me so. Also, I have watched ‘Birth Stories’ on Zone Reality a few times, and it was some of the most traumatic minutes of my DSTV viewership experience. The only thing more horrific I have ever witnessed on the said cable service provider was the Nollywood movie ‘Beyonce and Rihanna’, terrible stuff.

Anyways, in addition to the joys of labor, a true Nigerian wife also has to worry about birthing the right kind of children. Let us kid ourselves not; sexism is alive and living life to the fullest in this corner of the world. Woe betide, the woman who finds herself without the much sought after male heir (I have always disliked that phrase). Everyone, the educated and uneducated alike begin to pretend like they never studied O level biology. That by the way would be a totally lie, we all know Biology is the third mandatory course (after English and Mathematics) that any O Level exam writer in Nigeria has to sit for in their SSCE examinations. They ignore the stories our teachers told us about the X’s and Y’s and The Wife finds herself having to deal with some serious side-eye anytime she walks into a room full of the dreaded relatives. Oh for a time when a little child will be judged not by the colour of their sippy cup (pink or blue?) but by the content of their character…..

I personally know of families made up entirely of daughters who totally run their world. They build houses for their folks, send them on luxury vacations and fuss over their every need. I’m just saying. A boy, a girl who cares, as long as you have a child who loves you and makes you proud right? I digress.

One way I think I’ll be able to score some points though in being a good Nigerian wife is by being the hostess with the most-ess. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from my Mum it’s how to host a good get together. She will be absolutely shocked if she heard me say this because she really does think that I am quite hopeless when it comes to things like that. What she doesn’t know is that I have actually learnt a lot from watching her through the years. So, I suspect that mine will be the house where The Husbands’ friends will gather to watch a game of football while I entertain them with my pointless commentary. That has to count for something at least?

So, with these few points, I hope I have been able to convince you and not confuse you that er……I’ve completely forgotten the point of this post.

I think I’ll just end it by celebrating Nigerian women, wives and mothers (both the traditional and the untraditional alike). You guys rock, just as much as the men, husbands and fathers do.

Cheers

* I would strongly advise that no one take me too seriously as I am really just mouthing off on my personal opinions. Apologies to anyone who adores the Bou-Bou

**Please ignore the title of this post, I do realise that it is horrible, but I was too lazy to think up something smarter.

Hoodwinked

I think I just got scammed.        

It all started the other day, when I looked up from my desk and saw that a small crowd had gathered around a spare table close to my cubicle. Curious, I’d asked Bobo what was going on

“Well” he said “we are all getting tested”

He made it sound important. ”Tested for what?” I asked

‘Everything’, he said. So I went over and had a look. I saw one of my superiors in the office whom I will call Mr. G, hooked up to what looked to me a lot like a lie-detector machine. He had a look of intense concentration on his face. A tall slim woman in a black suit poked at this left palm with some sort of electronic pen, while her assistant behind her took down some notes. Finally she was done.

“Ok”, she said “I have you results as well as recommendations on the sort of treatments you should embark upon” She rattled off some medical lingo while Mr. G looked on, he nodded a few times, seemingly in agreement with what she said.

“So are you going to get checked?” Bobo asks me. “Well…” I shrugged, why not, everyone else was, what did I have to lose. It didn’t involve needles of any sort so I didn’t have to be worried about any pain or be afraid I might contact some sort of weird infection. “Sure” I said.

I waited for everyone who got there before me to have their test done, and then finally it was my turn. I took a seat. She made me take off all my jewelry, placed a small rubber device in my right palm and told me to squeeze down hard. I did as she instructed and watched a tad anxiously as she squinted and hummed to herself.

“So, what does it indicate?” I asked “Am I okay?”

“Well, your internal organs are perfect, just perfect!” She says. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then she adds “But, you have far too much sugar in your bloodstream, I see you eat way too much Carbs. Also, you’re allergic to cold, your eyes are showing signs of strain from staring at a PC for hours on end and you need to detox your system”

I nodded thoughtfully, it made a lot of sense. “Right” I said “I think I agree with you on all that, I do eat a lot of carbs, I despise being cold and I do have to spend my entire work day in front of my computer without an anti-glare screen. So Thank You”

“You’re welcome” she said “ That’ll be one thousand Naira”

“Er, okay then” I said, I saw her assistant had a wad of one thousand naira notes clenched tightly in her fists so I deducted that everyone had had to pay the same fee after getting the ‘tests’ done. So I forked over the cash.

“Also, she added, “I sell Chinese herbs that can help you combat your problems. They are 100% natural, not like orthodox medicine that’s been processed. They are very healthy and have no side effects, I believe in treating your body with the utmost care you know?”

I nodded. Again, she sounded so, well informed, knowledgeable, like she knew exactly what she was saying. “So how much will that cost me?” I asked. She made some quick calculations “Thirty thousand Naira. I could deliver it to your desk tomorrow morning. You have to act quickly you know? Before you develop any complications” She said.

“Well,” I said “I think I’ll do another test in a hospital just to confirm your diagnosis, then I”ll give you a call and have you bring the stuff over, deal?”

She shrugged, “Okay, well I’ll see you later then” with that she sped off.

I went to Bobo, another of our friends A was with him. “So” I said to Bobo “ Did that lady try to sell you anything?” I asked him

He nodded “Yes she did, my bill came to Thirty one thousand Naira, I told her to bring in the stuff tomorrow, you have to act quickly on things like this you know?”. A added “yeah she gave me a bill of twenty grand as well”

I raised my eyebrows, “Really? what exactly did she say was wrong with you?” I asked. A shrugged “ she said that I eat too many carbs, and that I was allergic to cold”

“Do you agree with her?” I asked. She shrugged again “I guess so, I do eat a lot of carbs and I get really cold sometimes so…”

“She said I had eye strain from staring at a PC all day, that I eat too many carbs and that I needed a detox” Bobo offered

I rolled my eyes “She told me the exact same thing” I said “Now that I think about it, of course we eat too many carbs, we are Nigerians! The Air Conditioners are on all day blowing cold air down on us from the vents above our heads, so of course we get really cold sometimes; we do most of our work on the computer so eye strain is unavoidable and a no brainer and the detox thing is so ambiguous”.

A agreed with me “I think you’re right” she said. Bobo looked slightly perturbed “I’ll tell her I’ve changed my mind when she comes back tomorrow” he said. We all sighed, what a waste!

Later that night, as I lay on my bed and thought about other things I could have done with my money I’d given to the ‘scammers’ (A large cheese shawarma, top up credit, a new lip gloss, cab fare, a movie ticket, dry clean a Jacket, e.t.c). I wondered how on earth we’d all been so gullible; no doubt, they made a tidy sum collecting ‘medical test fees’ from a number of some of my other unsuspecting colleagues. There are over a thousand workers in my office building, if even a quarter of them had fallen for the scam (as I’m sure they did) that would have easily made two hundred and fifty thousand in one afternoon, excluding the costs of the ‘Chinese medication’. Not bad for an afternoons work.

As for me, I will learn to shine my eyes, quite simply anything that seems too good to be true, to easy, too simple, or too cheap (such as a full body medical examination for the princely sum of one grand) often is. I’m sure I won’t get taken in by such an ovbious scam next time (I hope), after all as they say, once bitten twice shy.

Have you ever had the experience of being swindled?

Cheers

Article on Wedding Trendy

Hi people,

Recently, yours truly wrote an article that was published on the fantastic online wedding magazine for the stylish African couple, Wedding Trendy. To read the article click Here

Will be back with other gists later

Cheers