More naija dirty laundry HERE- thank God it is being aired though!
Imagine, girls as young as 11 being sexually harassed by teachers; it's a pity that this malaise of our higher institutions has gotten to younger girls, but it was only a matter of time. I remember hearing whispers from classmates in the primary school I had just joined (we just moved cities) about a girl having gotten pregnant for our Yoruba teacher the year before. I was in primary five, nine years old, almost ten and this was several months before I learnt, also from a classmate, what menstruation was - so you can imagine how innocent I was. This girl must have been around 13 or maybe slightly older and she had reached what would probably be her adult height and was very "ripe", that did not in anyway make it right!!! It is sick for any adult man to take advantage of a child entrusted to their care, where is the honour of these paedophiles??? Oh, they probably do not see themselves as sick people sha. It is just enjoying "perks of the profession"!
Its things like this that make me very disdainful of the people blaming the west for all of the erosion of values in society - as far back as over 60 years ago, my aunt was impregnated by her principal, in a very traumatising experience, that has her rejecting her child. Lets face it, many of our men don't know how to keep their trousers up, and it doesn't have anything to do with oyinbo!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Hair issues
I finally got my weave on out last week after having it in for a record period of 3 months. I just had to wash it in between, because I kept imagining that my colleague had changed departments and subsequently moved out from the office I shared with him, because he could no longer stand the smell from all the hair products and sweat emanating from across the room.
Speaking of which, why do I always get the guys who are hygienically challenged in my office? The guy who moved out loved to poke his nose,and he had a perpetual cold- the type you can smell several feet away(sorry to gross you out). He sometimes used my phone or touched my computer - my skin positively crawled, and I had been debating a polite way of telling him not to use my phone before he had the good sense to move. Just as I was sighing with relief, he was replaced, and his replacement not only pokes his nose, but also picks it and puts the stuff straight into his mouth. EEEWWW. I must urgently tell him to try and limit that to when I'm away from my desk. I do not need to see that after lunch!
Anyway, I digress from my topic, so I finally had my hair relaxed and it reaches just below my shoulders now. The reason for my jubilation over this perhaps to you not necessarily long hair was that one and half years ago, one preoccupied Jamaican hairdresser in London decided "everytin 's bad, ei trim it for you". As she was more intent on discussing the latest misdemeanours of her baby father with her friend than listening to my objections about cutting off all my hair because it had some minor split ends, I ended up with a cut that looked like this:
as in not nice looking at all, more like some rat had gotten to the back of my head. I am almost sure the fact that my dad and I had an argument later that evening had to do with the fact that I came back from the hairdresser’s with my head round as a ball and shiny with my hair funnily plastered around my face.
Seriously the hair looked quite nice enough when I left the salon, but trying to maintain a sane look with that 1/2-inch of hair at the lower half of my head was very difficult.
That is why I have been jubilating at my regained hair length and have spent my whole weekend perusing http://www.growafrohairlong.com/ trying to find out ways of ensuring that I never return to that state where I cannot pack all my hair in one again.
I have had a very good experience with using dark and lovely’s oil moisturiser spray for several months now. That has ensured much better moisturization for my very dry hair. I have also been steaming my hair with several concoctions at my hairdressers fairly regularly consisting of motions and fantasia products. In fact, I think a substantial part of my paycheck lastyear went toward financing her new house. My dh does not understand why I cannot relax my hair at home myself- I can and have done that in the past, but since I did not study hairdressing in the university, I decided to give myself over to the experts - not the crazy scissors wielding type, thank you very much. Leave my split ends alone, na me get am!
By the way, if anybody reading this has any tips about re-growing the hairline, I would be very grateful if you shared that with me.
Speaking of which, why do I always get the guys who are hygienically challenged in my office? The guy who moved out loved to poke his nose,and he had a perpetual cold- the type you can smell several feet away(sorry to gross you out). He sometimes used my phone or touched my computer - my skin positively crawled, and I had been debating a polite way of telling him not to use my phone before he had the good sense to move. Just as I was sighing with relief, he was replaced, and his replacement not only pokes his nose, but also picks it and puts the stuff straight into his mouth. EEEWWW. I must urgently tell him to try and limit that to when I'm away from my desk. I do not need to see that after lunch!
Anyway, I digress from my topic, so I finally had my hair relaxed and it reaches just below my shoulders now. The reason for my jubilation over this perhaps to you not necessarily long hair was that one and half years ago, one preoccupied Jamaican hairdresser in London decided "everytin 's bad, ei trim it for you". As she was more intent on discussing the latest misdemeanours of her baby father with her friend than listening to my objections about cutting off all my hair because it had some minor split ends, I ended up with a cut that looked like this:
as in not nice looking at all, more like some rat had gotten to the back of my head. I am almost sure the fact that my dad and I had an argument later that evening had to do with the fact that I came back from the hairdresser’s with my head round as a ball and shiny with my hair funnily plastered around my face.Seriously the hair looked quite nice enough when I left the salon, but trying to maintain a sane look with that 1/2-inch of hair at the lower half of my head was very difficult.
That is why I have been jubilating at my regained hair length and have spent my whole weekend perusing http://www.growafrohairlong.com/ trying to find out ways of ensuring that I never return to that state where I cannot pack all my hair in one again.
I have had a very good experience with using dark and lovely’s oil moisturiser spray for several months now. That has ensured much better moisturization for my very dry hair. I have also been steaming my hair with several concoctions at my hairdressers fairly regularly consisting of motions and fantasia products. In fact, I think a substantial part of my paycheck lastyear went toward financing her new house. My dh does not understand why I cannot relax my hair at home myself- I can and have done that in the past, but since I did not study hairdressing in the university, I decided to give myself over to the experts - not the crazy scissors wielding type, thank you very much. Leave my split ends alone, na me get am!
By the way, if anybody reading this has any tips about re-growing the hairline, I would be very grateful if you shared that with me.
Continue doing your thing, Charles! ( The Prince's Advocate)
My opinion doesn't count for too much on the issue I am writing about, since I am not British. I am nevertheless one of the not very many (so it seems at least from a perusal of London dailies) admirers of Prince Charles.
My admiration of him dates almost 20 years, since I read about his landscape paintings in one of my mother's copies of Woman's own. Being Nigerian, I was impressed that a future king could have other preoccupation apart than chasing small girls or throwing his weight around and making life difficult for everyone. That liking was in no way diminished by finding out over the years about his environmental awareness drive, the fact that the organic food brand Duchy Originals was his brainchild and is owned by him and finally about the Prince's Trust respectively. I was therefore very happy after reading this article, which for once stood up for Prince Charles.
I think it was a pity how Diana died, and also very sad how her marriage to Charles broke down, but I do not think that it is fair to put all the blame on him. Bluntly put, Diana was not a saint either. Whether or not she was pushed to her indiscretions during and after their marriage by Charles's going-ons with Camilla, and/or the disdain of the Queen for her is a point which I cannot argue on, as I do not have enough information. One thing I do know is that, whatever pushed her, a lot of her actions were unacceptable. However it would be too much to expect people to be fair in their judgement of Charles, after all, sex sells and sexy he is not! Besides, these are the same people who have elevated Jade Goody to celebrity status - I rest my case.
My admiration of him dates almost 20 years, since I read about his landscape paintings in one of my mother's copies of Woman's own. Being Nigerian, I was impressed that a future king could have other preoccupation apart than chasing small girls or throwing his weight around and making life difficult for everyone. That liking was in no way diminished by finding out over the years about his environmental awareness drive, the fact that the organic food brand Duchy Originals was his brainchild and is owned by him and finally about the Prince's Trust respectively. I was therefore very happy after reading this article, which for once stood up for Prince Charles.
I think it was a pity how Diana died, and also very sad how her marriage to Charles broke down, but I do not think that it is fair to put all the blame on him. Bluntly put, Diana was not a saint either. Whether or not she was pushed to her indiscretions during and after their marriage by Charles's going-ons with Camilla, and/or the disdain of the Queen for her is a point which I cannot argue on, as I do not have enough information. One thing I do know is that, whatever pushed her, a lot of her actions were unacceptable. However it would be too much to expect people to be fair in their judgement of Charles, after all, sex sells and sexy he is not! Besides, these are the same people who have elevated Jade Goody to celebrity status - I rest my case.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
I love you
When we met, we fell deeply in love. We said we could go to the ends of the earth for each other and we meant it. I walked around all radiant, because finally I had found my one true love. People had misgivings, parents were worried. Why on earth did you have to fall for someone a world apart? It never works out, it can't be love, its for material gain, what didn't they say?
In spite of that we went ahead. Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life. You said to me a few months before we got married, as we discussed problems that could come our way "the problems will probably come where we least expect them". You couldn't have known how right you were.
Somewhere along the line we stopped communicating. We knew we loved the other person, but were no longer sure about how they felt towards us. The voices kept getting louder - get rid of her, he is no use to you. We spent more time fighting than we did having fun. You placed ice cold walls around you heart and kept me out. I started to act out, to try and provoke a reaction from you. You withdrew even further.
We got to a point where we decided separation was the only option. We sadly gave in "everyone was right, such relationships do not work afterall". I was shattered, went about my life like a zombie. I loved you more than life itself, yet I could not continue being the only one working at this relationship. Cultural differences had not helped matters. I would say one thing, you would hear something else. You would say something and I would understand it differently.
Both stubborn as bulls, neither would give an inch, I would thaw and you'd be frozen, and then you'd thaw and I'd be frozen. I lived to receive your calls, yet I was ice cold most times when I answered the phone.
Finally, I started to pray. When I met you, you fit completely the description I had written in church about the Man I wanted to marry, right up to the huggable part. I wondered now, whose voice I had heard. You could not have been meant for me if it turned this way. I had no way of knowing you were going through the same things I was. I knew that the faults were not all on your side, I can be difficult to live with. It had been a difficult time for us both, with settling down and trying to start a new life together.
Then finally, you said the thing I had been waiting to hear - you said you remembered again why it was Me you married and no one else. You said, "let's try again". I was so shocked that I could not react. The one thing I had given up hope upon was happening.
I realised that this was a refining process. I will never take you for granted again. I hope you won't me as well. I am so greatful to God I received back the man I married.
I love you my Huggy bear, I pledge my life to you anew. You make me complete, I could never be the person I am without you by my side.
I love you.
In spite of that we went ahead. Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life. You said to me a few months before we got married, as we discussed problems that could come our way "the problems will probably come where we least expect them". You couldn't have known how right you were.
Somewhere along the line we stopped communicating. We knew we loved the other person, but were no longer sure about how they felt towards us. The voices kept getting louder - get rid of her, he is no use to you. We spent more time fighting than we did having fun. You placed ice cold walls around you heart and kept me out. I started to act out, to try and provoke a reaction from you. You withdrew even further.
We got to a point where we decided separation was the only option. We sadly gave in "everyone was right, such relationships do not work afterall". I was shattered, went about my life like a zombie. I loved you more than life itself, yet I could not continue being the only one working at this relationship. Cultural differences had not helped matters. I would say one thing, you would hear something else. You would say something and I would understand it differently.
Both stubborn as bulls, neither would give an inch, I would thaw and you'd be frozen, and then you'd thaw and I'd be frozen. I lived to receive your calls, yet I was ice cold most times when I answered the phone.
Finally, I started to pray. When I met you, you fit completely the description I had written in church about the Man I wanted to marry, right up to the huggable part. I wondered now, whose voice I had heard. You could not have been meant for me if it turned this way. I had no way of knowing you were going through the same things I was. I knew that the faults were not all on your side, I can be difficult to live with. It had been a difficult time for us both, with settling down and trying to start a new life together.
Then finally, you said the thing I had been waiting to hear - you said you remembered again why it was Me you married and no one else. You said, "let's try again". I was so shocked that I could not react. The one thing I had given up hope upon was happening.
I realised that this was a refining process. I will never take you for granted again. I hope you won't me as well. I am so greatful to God I received back the man I married.
I love you my Huggy bear, I pledge my life to you anew. You make me complete, I could never be the person I am without you by my side.
I love you.
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