Showing posts with label Scrambled. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scrambled. Show all posts

Busted...

8
COM
Labels: · Posted by at
I knew this day would come...
I’ve known for a couple of weeks now...
It’s been like a time bomb ticking away to destruction...
It was not unlike a volcano boiling to eruption...
I saw the signs; I felt the symptoms...
I chose to ignore it...
I knew this day would come; Today is/was the day.
I’ve been courting a breakdown, waltzing on the edge without thought to safety, pushing myself so damn hard to the brink, thinking me a Superwoman. I am good at juggling...I’ve almost never dropped any balls. I am that good...BOOM! I’ve been juggling family, work, friends, colleagues, domestic staff, businesses {in plural}....but for some reason, balls be dropping in recent times and they are actually causing me body harm.
Did I tell y’all that my househelp of the It Starts Again! post ran away 10 days again? Yes, she did! I went out on that Saturday to attend to one of my businesses and i got back to her absence. Nobody knew when she slunk outta the house. She did leave her suitcase-ful of dirty stinking clothes behind...makes me wonder what she stole to make up for that deliberate oversight. Couple of days ago, i found an ID card with her face on it but the name reads Oluwakemi R. Reymond! O_O. She told me her name was Blessing from Ogoja. Oluwakemi does not sound like any Ogoja name i know! *the hammer in my head resumes its pounding duty*
I can’t....I just can’t shout!
It took one itsy bitsy random scorch egg from Mama Cass and the volcano erupted! Food poisoning is a curse from Hades. Today, it swirled through my body and the last kilojoules of energy i’ve got left, it totally sapped. My stomach cells feels decimated, my body feels drained...hollow even. I’ve got no energy left for anything...
...anything except for Chets, who seems to be having his own episode of food poisoning from the porridge they foisted on him in school.
I’m watching Zizi wreck havoc on my DSTV decoder with her little pink Ikea fork and i’ve got no strength to shout her out of the spot.
I loathe unmade beds and untidy spaces. I cannot even exist in such environs. At the moment, I am lying on a bed piled high with rumpled bunched-together bed sheets and duvet, smack in the middle of a room that is begging for a visit from any resident of Broomsville. Did i mention there are clothes strewn in all directions? In my normal reality, i woulda broken out in pulsating boils; i woulda been itching all over. Things are not normal at the moment....i’ve got no strength. I DO NOT CARE!
I can’t shout!
I’m going to stop now and go "suck my thumb" for the rest of the night, hoping and praying that sometime during the night, the universe will align itself and give me back my reality. I hate being sick...who will take care of my babies?
I think i need vacay time...
Sometimes, i wish i wasn’t an adult yet...way too many responsibilities!

Scrambled Post Numero Dos: The Pressure To Perform

2
COM
Labels: · Posted by at

We were driving out of our compound, the hubby and I, on our way to a hangout one fateful day. That day wasn’t the first time we noticed it but it was the first time the hubby commented on/about it, “This couple live a really weird life!” and I totally concurred with that assessment. Why? If you said some ghosts reside in that flat, you might not be totally wrong…the flat is always as quiet as a tomb, the only sign of “life” being the cars parked in the car lot and the occasional swish of their living room blinds! And they are not old folks oo….those two would be in their mid-thirties max! I do remember saying, “If only they have kids!!”

Days later, I heard a bit of their story….and another story totally unrelated to theirs:

Story 1: In his former flat when he was still a struggling bachelor, things went from rosy {ok, maybe not rosy but life was great} to unbelievable hard luck. When he got married, everyone heaved a collective sigh of relief….believe it or not, there’s always the inexplicable showers of blessings that settle on couples after they are legally hooked up, from their wedding day sef…I kid you not. Even the Bible said, “He that finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favor in the sight of God”.
And so after marriage, jobs knocked on their doors; contracts came from far and wide; life was good again. Then the Mrs became pregnant and their joy was complete. Notice I didn’t say the Mrs had a baby because that joy was truncated…she miscarried! With that unfortunate incidence, badluck finally located their address, took up residence with them and refused to leave them be. It came down to either they moved out or badluck takes a hike. Badluck refused to bulge...they moved!!!



Story 2: Chuks* hustled really early in life….at age 27, he was already a manager of some sort in his place of employment and he never forgets to mention that fact every opportunity he gets. Nice crib, tear-rubber Kia moto {with that igbo accent}, and then the girls….dude was living largesse.
Then....came the suspension, the demotion and finally the sack letter from work!!!


Two stories so unrelated and yet so similar. These lives however had some factor in common: they were both tenants in the same apartment complex at that time...they had the same landlady and rumor has it that she is as diabolical as they come!

This brings me to the issue I wanted to discuss today: Some evil that {wo}men do! 


Why would a landlady settle for mortgaging her tenants' good fortunes for her own selfish gains? You already OWN a house...several i reckon, the tenants still pay for the accomodation and its still okay with you to take away their unborn child, their jobs, their happiness??? *Sidebar: I'm not inclined to believe all these jazz stories i hear but hey, i didnt live the experiences....my neighbours did. As at today, that compound is uninhabited cos their gist have made the rounds and nobody wants to be Madam Landlord's next victim. My neighbour and his wife are still trying to pick up pieces of their lives; Chuks got gainfully employed 2 months after he moved out....
        
Growing up, i had this classmate with moneybags as parents. Their house was huuuuuuuge, especially so to my young eyes and they were always always chaffeur-driven to and from school. They had the best of everything. Somehow, this story filtered into school that their father sacrificed the mental health of their eldest sibling for the riches, reducing the poor boy to an imbecile. Whether there were any truth in that, yours truly cannot say but i've heard similar stories over time...too many i dare say...that it makes one wonder. I do know i kept a very safe distance from them after that story!


Stories of wealthy men without neither wives nor children abound, something to do with the dubious ways those monies were made. Tales of varying misfortunes that follow women that "know" such men in the biblical sense equally abound! All for what? Recognition, the i-have-arrived type? Greed?


Somehow, I Am Content With What I Have has become my mantra. It has to be. Rome was not built in a day...it took years of planning, years of careful execution of laid-down plans...no corners cut, years of hardwork and committment. If it were quickfixed, im sure it woulda come apart like a pack of cards eons ago!
The society should not pressure us into having what we obviously cannot afford, by any means necessary. I mean, do you have any idea how many kids have been pressured into stealing from their parents by an innocent enough tweet or status message that says, "Chilling in KFC...amazeballs"? If you reside in Lagos, the sightings of young unemployed girls mostly in their teens {some of them students, some of them from relatively humble backgrounds} with 24inch original brazilian/malaysian/peruvian weaves are pretty much common occurences. However, if you know how expensive those weaves are, you'll begin to understand the point im trying to communicate. Heck, some of us pay in three instalments for those weaves and we are gainfully employed! The pressure....


Let me not even dabble into the subject of the Blackberry. If you live in this country, Lagos to be precise and you do not owe a BB, i have just one message for you,"Welcome to 2011. To be able to live in today's world, kindly make your way to Computer Village and purchase yourself one, new, used or otherwise. Its in your best interest! PING!" I say this because i seriously believe you've just been released from that cryogenic prison that held you hostage for so long! Otherwise, how come you do not have a BB? The pressure....


The iPad came out last year....the hype and the raves that followed after its launch were so freaking unbelieavable, i actually convinced myself there was need for one and so, i bought one. I will admit to feeling really good with myself after that purchase...levels. I was still trying to learn how to blog from that contraption when iPad2 hit the market! WTF?? Seriously, in less that four months, my purchase was outdated? The nerve of Apple. Somehow, i have convinced myself that there is absolutely no difference between both iPads and that is what i believe. If you have any contradicting opinions, i'll beg you to keep it to yourself....i am happy where i am right now.
But alas, the Blackberry Playbook is out. The truth, guys, is that i am still happy where i am. Unless that tablet or any other of its kind that might make an appearance in the nearest future can wake me up in the mornings with a cup of tea, take me through my exercise routines, feed the kids breakfast, bathe them and prep them for school, unless that tablet will cook my meals and do the kids homework, attend open days and take notes all by itself, unless that tablet is simply put MINI-ME, i am not shelling my hard earned money to buy nada...pressure be damned! Kilode?!


But hey, this is just my opinion....you are entitled to yours.


Been a while. Missed y'all!

Scrambled Post Numero Uno: Tossing The Baggages

3
COM
Labels: · Posted by at
So, two days ago i tweeted: My brain is so fried right now...i think i need to blog to relieve the tension! Y’all expect a really scrambled post!
As promised, here’s the first in what might be a long list of scrambled posts:

Some fourteen months ago when I was about seven months pregnant with Zi, I was honoured with an encounter with one of those unwholesome/unsavoury characters that bad experiences are made of!
I had closed from work later than usual that day and not wanting to keep my driver longer than was necessary, I had asked him to drop off close to the house so I can drive the rest of the way home. He cleared off and momentarily parked the car at the only good spot on that stretch of the road. Incidentally, the spot was right in front of a gated desolate-looking  seemingly uninhabited compound. No harm done, right? It would only take me a few minutes to climb down from the back seat, waddle across and make myself comfortable in the driver’s seat then continue on my merry way home, yes? Hmmmm....
As it were, i was still trying to waddle across to the driver’s side when this ‘uniformed’ guard came out from the kain building i thought was uninhabited. The following convo ensued:
Guard: Abeg abeg, comot this car from here! {such courtesy...smh}
Me: Oga, sorry. I won’t waste time...i just wan drop my driver
Guard: Abeg comot this thing. Why you go come park car for in front of person office? You no dey even think?
Me: But i already said i was sorry. I’m leaving already.
Notice how i had switched to proper English...anger does that to me. Did this creature that does not even qualify to be called dude just call me a brainless bimbo? Anyways, i decided to be the bigger person and shake it off. And then he said:
Guard: Me? Understand? I don come your office before come block am? I no blame you. No be because you don go prostitute finish, one stupid man come give you car, na why you go dey talk anyhow!
That, stopped me in my tracks. In slow mo, i did a one-eighty and faced him-from-the-pits. I tried...God knows i tried, but i couldn’t contain the venom cooking inside of me {plus everyone knows that pregnant chics are particularly cantankerous....temperament move from zero to a hundred in one second flat!}
Mehn, i let loose on the man. I’m not only pint-sized, i abhor physical confrontation. But what i lack in physical strength, i more than make up for in the mouthing section. My word vom was on another level that day. I whaled on the man. I dredged up residual angst from things that supposedly irked me at work that day and i channeled all into cussing the fool out! Boy, i forgot i was pregnant and tired! My outburst shocked by driver...he was still hanging around...into speechlessness! {in the almost-two years he has been in my employ as at that time, he has never seen me like that}

In all my rantings, i did make sure he heard one message loud and clear: at least i had the brains to ‘prostitute’ myself to a man who could afford to pay for the ‘service’ with a car!! Hidiot!!! I was so worked up i didn’t even notice the sizable crowd that had gathered..trust Lagosians! So furious was I that i had started saying, “With this pregnancy i swear it shall...” when i felt a hand on my shoulder and i turned to see an elderly respectable-looking lady shake her head side to side and say, “Don’t! Not with the child in your womb! Let it go!”
I let it go. I climbed into my car and i drove off, fuming all the way home.
It wasn’t the fact that he called me a prostitute that got my goat; it was the fact that he assumed i had only to spread my legs to achieve this object of his oh-so-obvious envy. Heck, i cooked and cleaned and laundered and kept house and pushed forth babies....i worked hard for my car!! What right does he have to trivialize my hard work by calling me a prosti? God punis...*woooosaaaa* bless him in where ever difficult corner he is in right now!!!!
I know that incident pained me well well cos each time i drive by that building till date, i mumble ‘idiot’ under my breath unconsciously! Blogging it makes it so less of an issue. Here’s hoping i finally let it go....he was just another frustrated nonentity!

My brain does feels slightly better...one baggage dropped off.
************************
NB: Do not forget to follow this blog by clicking on the Follow icon. Thanks for visiting this blog!
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)