Showing posts from 2013


Yesterday I posted something in one of my blogs, and today I was shocked to find someone quote a sentence that described my exact sentiment to a tee. I was even more surprised to find that it was lifted off another post- a suicide note on a personal website.
I went over to the website and was astonished at how the whole note could easily have been written by me. From the time frame to the areas she felt she had failed, to her feelings about herself. I only disagreed with one thing , and that is that she felt she had nothing more to give. My greatest frustration stems from the inkling I have that I have a lot more to do here, but the many unnecessary hurdles to doing them.

Anyway, here's the link

( that link has been taken down but see the post here)

I am not about to commit suicide- at least not yet; I have a daughter, a young innocent, who is my weighty anchor to mortality. But I won't pretend it's not something (that's b…

What I Am Fighting For

The Log In Your Eye

I was awake when the verdict was read. It was about 4 am and Piers Morgan had tweeted that people should tune in to CNN as the jury had come back. I already knew that Zimmerman would be free but when they declared him 'not guilty', I was gutted. I did not sleep till about 7 am or so, furiously tweeting my anger, and retweeting those who shared the same sentiments, or arguing with those who didn't. How shallow, and blind and evil and callous could these white Americans be? How could Zimmerman be free?

Even the day after, I was still blinded with rage! A 17 year old boy, I thought! Jesus! I was ecstatic when New Yorkers went on a protest march towards Times Square. I zealously retweeted pictures and the commentary of Lola Ogunnaike. Finally something was being done about this injustice...

Then it occurred to me

A few days prior to the ruling, 46 (FORTY SIX) secondary school children had been brutally murdered in Yobe state. Reports from Aljazeera (Aljazeera oh!)  said they …

When All Else Fails You Better Blog

I loved 234 next. I was a zealot for the paper. And when I moved home and could not buy it anymore I religiously read their online version. Until the sad day when they pulled the plug and turned out the spark of hope they had hitherto lit in the hearts of Nigerians.

I had several favourites (writers) in 234Next; Ikhide Ikhalose, Rukky Ladoja, Dele Olojede (sometimes), and Tokini Peterside are names that readily come to mind. But by far my best ever writer was Yemisi Ogbe.

Yemisi Ogbe! Where do I begin? That lady wrote about food and condiments like she had an intimate, private relationship with them. I am a foodie, and consequently, an avid reader of food blogs, and viewer of cooking shows, but I have never seen any food writer so enamoured  with Nigerian food, and so expressive of it, with such a rapturous passion akin to a new member in a religious sect. When she wrote about say, tomatoes, you were introduced to them anew; she would tell a story about her interaction with a certain…

C'est La Vie

Life can be ridiculously tough for a lot of people, and incredibly cruel. You attempt to rise and you are beaten down, mauled and trampled on. Then left for dead. And if you are stupid enough to try to rise again the process is repeated till you get the message. You just keep catching curve balls with spiked edges, and you are expected to make it a fun game. And sometimes you win, you really do. But that's not often. And that is just for regular people. If you were unfortunate to be born with some 'defect', like a brain, and/or an aversion to conventional wisdom, or other physical/ physiological differences, then your curve balls have curve balls of their own. You are wrong in all the right ways; but aint nobody got time for that shit.

For those times when you just want to crumple into a ball and whither into oblivion, remember this: life is a fucking wimp. When the tears dry, fight back.

Cryptic words. I know, but here's something less cryptic from one of my favourit…

Chili's A Writer!

I received an email in response to the one I sent asking to be a writer on that blog I spoke about here. The email said that if I sent a contribution and they liked it they would put it up. A few hours later I sent one and asked if they loved it. The answer 'a resounding yes!, can we put it up?'  And that is how I was published. Thank you, thank you,. No pictures please.

Check out the article here. It has already received 5 comments. Oh! And the picture beneath is me, of course. I am that shapely and sexy. And slim.

Excuse Me, I Think You Forgot To Hide Your Vulnerability

I love TED talks ( You know how you are afraid of talking about a particular habit or taste or choice of yours, or afraid of doing it, and then someone or some people finally mention that they do the same thing and you think 'phew, thank God I am not abnormal'? That is how the TED talks feel to me.

So I was just going through the TED app on my phone, for talks I had not watched or listened to yet, and I came across this one. It is Brenee Brown, a researcher , speaking on her findings of the essence of the human existence- vulnerability. As much as I like TED talks, I have never played anyone over and over again- and not especially with limited bandwidth- but I replayed this one thrice. Now, in your spare time you can watch this and hear the gems that she so beautifully shares- I will not even attempt to help her. But I will share the bits of this talk that came right up to me and slapped a smile on my heart.

Brenee studied vulnerability, courage, authenticity and …

My New Favourite Thing

It is amazing, isn't it, that I have five blogs (5!) and I still cannot say everything I want to, in any of them. On this blog I am reluctant to say as much as I would have, because I am known by a few people who read it. On other blogs there is a totally different theme and agenda so some things might be inappropriate, or just irrelevant.

That is why I like this blog.  It reads to me like a conversation I would have with some of my crazy friends. It has no airs and does not welcome pretentiousness. And the fact that these are AFRICAN WOMEN, speaking happily about a topic that is still considered too sacrosanct for them to even acknowledge, is amazing. The topic by the way is SEX.

I was introduced to the blog by a friend of mine- one minute silence for the abrupt death of that friendship- who sent the link, probably to reveal his true intentions on one hand, and to get the URL for my own blog, on the other. Whatever the reason, he unleashed a monster. I have applied to be a contr…

Little Chili's Got A Boyfriend

Whenever I go to see my three year old daughter - she stays with my parents in Benin- she is always on her guard, anticipating my next move, in an attempt to ensure I do not leave her abruptly and come back to Lagos. When she was younger, I would leave when she was asleep, or while she was in school, or generally unaware. I stopped leaving so abruptly when my younger brother told me that she would be so disoriented when she woke up and/or came back and could not find me. That notwithstanding, she still worries about my departure, so much so that she sometimes wakes up late at night, checking to make sure I am still on the bed. Or if she cannot find me there, she comes to the living room searching for me, no matter the time of night. And when I drop her off at school she tries to prevent me from leaving for fear that I will travel.

This last visit home was not different, if anything it was even more turbulent. When I dropped her off at school her teacher had not arrived yet, so I sat …

The Waiting Place

One of my favourite poems is Dr Seuss's "Oh! The Places You'll Go". It is a children's poem, and somewhat comical, but it reads like a life warning from a parent to a child about the vagaries of life, and more importantly,  the need to press on, believe in and pursue your fulfillment.

My favourite part of that poem is The Waiting Place. It is not  a particularly pleasant part of the poem, but it challenges several things, both positively and negatively. On the one hand it challenges us to avoid procrastination and seize our destinies and/or our futures. On the other hand, for me personally, it challenges the validity of hope. But you be the judge:

The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bi…

Athazagoraphobia Gained

For the phone to ring
The email to come
For the truth to be denied.Seen through all the well-spun lies
But still
I miss you.

So I Read Americanah

I have been a fan of Chimamanda Adichie since I read ' Purple Hibiscus' several years ago. I would buy every book she wrote after that, which were two actually; 'Half of A Yellow Sun' and  'The Thing Around Your Neck'. She almost lost my attention with the latter because I felt that it was a rushed compilation of half developed plots and characters. I hated it. So when I heard Americanah had been released, I anxiously looked forward to it, as her opportunity to redeem herself (in my eyes).

Unlike a lot of people, I was very excited at the size of the book; it meant there was more to enjoy.  I began initially to read it voraciously, but soon slowed my pace as I went further, when I realised there was a very desperate message forcibly and brusquely pushing its way out.

The character of Ifemelu in the early stages was one I could relate to, not only as a regular Nigerian girl growing up in the early nineties to the noughties, but also because she was the basic, …

Happy Birthday To Me

It has been a long, rugged, journey, one that I have not even been exactly proud of.

For the past week or so I was terribly angry with myself, totally unforgiving of myself, for what I would call a lapse in judgement in relation to an individual. Then last night I got news that a friend had just slumped and died- most likely of a heart attack- and that helped me put things in perspective.

I am grateful for life, for the love of my family, my daughter,  for my experiences, both good and bad, and for my dear friends. I am excited about what could be, and what I have the opportunity to achieve now that I am free. I might make mistakes and make the wrong choices but  guess what : I am human. And everyday I live, and every year I add, provides the opportunity to wipe the slate clean and start over.

So here's to me for adding one more candle to the birthday cake; may all my dreams come true and more importantly may I feel 100% worthy of them.

Happy Birthday, Chili.


Someone just sen…