Wordsmith live from London!/ Little Wordsmith business

Hello people, this is me reporting to you live from London, and I am here to tell you that the Nigerians have taken over i repeat, the Nigerians have taken over. This city is no longer an English city, as we all know it is now a world city run by Nigerians and Indians.

Speaking of Nigerians, we interrupt out regular programming to report that tomorrow from as early as dawn, do not panic if you see gorgeous young people dressed in green, white or Nigerian national dress. It is a day of pride because if Nigerians have achieved nothing at all, at least they are free to ruin their country all by themselves, and we must celebrate something or the other, am I right?? Right as true Nigerians, bring out your party clothes, HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!!!

and now to the regular programming -a very short piece of made up story for your pleasure. Comments and constructive critics are welcome

"...For the heart of man is desperately wicked..." says the Lord

      Sometimes I want to do bad things, terrible things. Sometimes I plan … things… before I shake myself and keep walking. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of an unnatural light in my eyes when I look in the mirror. Sometimes, I wish for horrible things and laugh before I realize I should stop. Sometimes I watch movies and I identify with the villain and scream internally when people cheer the death of the bad guy. I am your worst nightmare, because it is not the known ones-the crazy drunk, the crack head, the robber or the laughing lunatic that you should fear. It should be me, who sits on the edge of madness every single second, whose limits blur slowly but with certainty every single day.

 

I dream dark dreams. Dreams pulling me to join them in the darkness, to help them become reality. Sheer willpower and my mother’s prayers tie me to the light, and that fragile link holds for one more day.

 

For my sake. for your sake, perhaps it will hold steady. I am not the last of my kind.

Rant.

Hey people, thanks for ...listening?...reading?...supporting? Anyways thanks. I won't go into further detail about the previous because the whole thing is mostly my own fault. 

But, I do have something to get off my chest. Why is it that in Nigeria or at least in Lagos, its so hard to find good work? I love my country but this summer I had to spend the whole time making do with sloppy workmanship in all walks (works?) of life. I may be slightly picky but this "approximate" way of looking at things does NOT work for me. What do I mean by approximate?  I mean the way Lagosians will say that's kind of or approximately what you want so why don't you just manage it?

Err...because I'm PAYING for it???

For example an electrician comes to do the wiring and 'fixes' it so that it works but the socket and wires are hanging off the wall precariously and it all looks very shoddy. Like WTF, just because you dont mind living in a hovel doesnt mean I like to live like that.

Or you pay for a French manicure and they can't paint it straight so they tell you you have crooked nails and you need to manage it. Can I get a HELL NO. I had to call the manager before I got a good manicure, and this is after making them do it twice already. Dude, like is this is my first French manicure? I know I don't have crooked nails, don't blame your incompetence on my (by the way, lovely!) nails. Needless to say I need to find a new manicurist in Lagos, does anyone know a good one around Ikeja to Ilupeju area?

Or you ask for a very specific pattern for your very expensive Wodin to be sewn in and the tailor comes back with something that looks nothing like it you have to 'manage' the fugly mess. Why? I have to wear it not the stupid tailor? I want my money back.

Everywhere I went I had to 'manage' substandard service or grin and bear it when everyone tried to cheat me. And to make it worse when I won't stand for all the rubbish my mother starts telling me I'm too picky and I can't fight it because its part of Nigeria.

Let me tell y'all something if everyone keeps 'managing' rubbish, Nigeria will go further into the toilet as long as nobody strives for excellence. We 'manage' everything from bad government, bad schools, bad electricity, bad roads, bad police everything! We just manage and keep silent and then we wonder why our nation sucks! The answer. WE SUCK AT POINTING OUT WRONG THINGS AT THE RIGHT TIME! we wait till it will be difficult to repair before we start to say something...

OK finished ranting

promised I wont be an Alatenumo.

Thinking in London.

I went to the other side of the world to get away

but you wouldn't let me go, you wouldn't give up

now that I understand how you feel

I find you have finally given up.

Run Times

***this is only vaguely attached to my past life in a very teeny way i promise, for example I still have a low paying job as a student worker and I don't consider myself in anyway a quiet type :)***

I was exactly 19.605 years old when I first ran out of words. I was silent for the first time in 18 and a half years, the first time since I first started chattering almost without a stopping, except to eat (sometimes I chattered while eating) or sleep. I wish I could tell you a very exciting or tragic story as to why this happened, some story that would make you weep very hard or laugh out loud like IMers claim to do all the time on yahoo messenger. I wish it were a story you could put on Lifetime and make inspirational for women, and struggling people. No, this isn’t that story. I think I had just spoken so much, so fast and for so long that I had said all I had to say about anything.

I was by no means absolutely mute. I answered questions, I asked questions, I spoke to people. I just became that characteristic alien to my previous nature: taciturn.

I was sitting on a bus when it happened. All my friends had gone home for the holidays and I was alone in our small town with no one to chatter at. Someone sat next to me and said: “will you be staying till the end of summer?” and I said “Yes”. I did not say : “Yes, I’ll be working and …..” or “Maybe, I haven’t decided yet but....” Just “Yes”.

I was tired of everything and had a good feeling that everything was tired of me, or at least my voice.

When I got home that day, for the first time the silence in my room did not overwhelm me. I did not immediately turn on the radio, or the TV to fill the silence.

I sat.

I thought

I looked at my life.

My life consisted of a low-paying job that fuelled the purchase of not very attractive low-quality clothing on my US size 10 frame and also the purchase of cheap food that maintained the said size 10 frame

“Not attractive” I thought. All of a sudden, my mind shook and groaned under all the weight of the dissatisfied thoughts that had been repressed amidst my chattering. I felt an almost physical pain as I thought of all the unpleasant aspects of my life

And just like that I decided to run.

I can’t tell you that the minute I started running, I could run everywhere and anywhere without running out of breath. The first time, I turned back after 15 minutes and swore never to go again.

Soon, though I realized that I only got absolute clarity in my head when I was running (or shall I say trying to run…) and soon the weight became too heavy to bear and I wandered out again.

Whenever I put on my sneakers I ran away from all my issues, silently, with no music but my thoughts towards a destination I was not sure existed. I ran in the rain or sun. I ran whether I felt like it or not.

One day, I got to my destination.

I did not recognize my destination when I saw it. It looked strange and unfamiliar. My destination was happy and beautiful. My destination glowed and was full of light. My destination beckoned with a bewitching smile.

My destination was me.

First of all, my heart goes out to Buttercup o, for those of you in the know just pray for her ...although it will be kind of interesting with a God from Nigeria.

Me: "Dear God, I'm praying for Buttercup"

God: "Abeg, I have people with real names to deal with"

Me: *grovelling* "Please now you know who I mean, Lord" 

God: ....long silence "I'll think about it..."

In other news

So tomorrow is my last day at work o :( but no more leaving the house at ridiculous hours :)

Its kind of annoying but today when I'm about to leave all the fine boys started work *HHHISSSSSS* . I am not obsessed with boys but like i've had to manage all kinds of ugly so and sos toasting me and the fine ones are now just coming. I'm so annoyed ...they're prolly wondering what happened to my face (i keep squeezing it cos my colleague keeps going on about how fine they are and how much she's looking forward to working with them)

anyway sha i'm excited to be going back to school...Did i tell y'all that although I usually go to school in Boston I'll be in the Europe on exchange soon. Yup. I love travelling up and down and pretending to be a JetSetter. 

I heard that the Nigerians in Europe (particularly UK) scene is extremely snobbish..any ideas if this is true and why?

Funny/Weird Story number 1

You know that guy who was calling me almost religiously that I mentioned, well I thought I should send him a package since he has been burning up his phone cards on me. That was now the last time I heard from him. Did I overwhelm him or what? It was just a small present o nothing too fancy. Ah Well. I'm off to the land of hot gentlemen. i don't mind, I'm a single 20 year old. The world is my oyster.

Funny/Weird Story number 2

Ok yesterday on my way home from work , I saw a tow truck with a car on its back and towing another. I now saw it broken down later in traffic being towed by another truck so imagine. a truck being towed by a truck being towed by another truck while carrying a truck. priceless. O ye kin ya photo (I shoulda taken a pic)

And Finally

Getting back to my wordsmith role I gat a short story for you guys...as soon as I finish it.

Thanks to everyone who stopped by my blog! I'm so happy to have been Charized. Chari go and call B'cup o or something

Toodles,

Smith

Getting to know you...

Does anyone remember The King and I which was like the razz junior brother to the Sound of Music. There was this song on it called "Getting to know you, getting to know all about you..."



I know. dryness. but its stuck in my head so sue me...



Alright *cracks knuckles* here goes..

Wait! So I had a GREAT weekend and...alright i'll get to it...



Charizzle asks



1. What's your greatest fear...

That'll be a tie between being morbidly obese and going to hell after a painful death. Call me shallow but the thought of being very fat scares me

2. Are u wit someone now..how una meet? do u think he's the one...

I'm not with anyone, but I do have someone I really like that calls me in Lagos everyday from where I go to school abroad. weird. we met at a geeky african students meeting. i think he could be perfect for me but I don't believe in 'the one'

3. Tell us what ur lofty dreams are..

My lofty dreams include making my name famous in Nigeria in a good way for generations to come
.
4. Ur favorite spots on blogville...

Too many to mention...you know how you can go from blog to blog for hours on end? but for now i'll say the ex-school nerd, afrobabe as well as everyone on her blogroll, Vera, You and Buttercup (no but seriously), Solomonsydelle etc

Temite asks
"What was your biggest mistake and did u learn anything from it"
I don't really know yet as in time will tell. For now I think my biggest mistake was letting my self esteem issues control me when I was much younger, but now I've learnt not to be afraid of anybody's idea of me.

Buttercup is like
"Are you male or female"
Tried to be vaguely ambigous but I'm glad to be a woman. or girl. dunno. when do you cross the line?? whenever i say a woman my mum bursts out laughing sooo...

Anyway I hope this was fun...everyone loves to peek into other people's lives don't they?

Later!
Smith

Get to know the 'smith

I guess I'm an Aseju person (excessive person). First I run away and don't come back for months and now im blogging everyday. I used to be a regular blogger before I deleted my blog a couple of years ago... and now this is the new re-invented me. This is supposed to be a mishmash of submission : short stories, poetry and my life.

Getting to work today was dramatic o-(even the work I was rushing to I'm here blogging! Pssshhhwww) First of all the driver doesnt show up till 7 am and if youve read my post from 2 days ago you'll know why this is drama. In addition, he ran a stop sign (really just a man dressed in black screaming 'STOP!!!' same difference ehn?) and got arrested. So I left him and hitch-hiked to work. Yes. I hitch-hiked in Lagos. God really has my back...

So...we're going to play a little game called 'Get to know the 'Smith' so I can make friends on blogville and stop being horribly lonely hehe. This is how it goes, anyone who reads this has to leave a comment with any question for me except "What's your real name?" or a meme and I have to answer it. shikena! so easy!!

In addition each week I blog I will mention a blog I think is extremely well-written. (i'm so full of myself ain't I? one person is reading this and i think i'm a star lol)

nyways

toodles!

Goodness gracious me, 2 posts in 2 days...

I certainly did not write this...but I think its excellent...these are lyrics by Mark Schultz. It's making me cry at the moment... So pretty

Walking Her Home

Looking back
He sees it all
It was her first date the night he came to call

Her dad said son
Have her home on time
And promise me you’ll never leave her side
He took her to a show in town
And he was ten feet off the ground

(Chorus)
He was walking her home
And holding her hand
Oh the way she smiled it stole the breath right out of him
Down that old road
With the stars up above
He remembers where he was the night he fell in love
He was walking her home

Ten more years and a waiting room
At half past one
And the doctor said come in and meet your son

His knees went weak
When he saw his wife
She was smiling as she said he’s got your eyes

And as she slept he held her tight
His mind went back to that first night

(Chorus)

He walked her through the best days of her life
Sixty years together and he never left her side

A nursing home
At eighty-five
And the doctor said it could be her last night
And the nurse said Oh
Should we tell him now
Or should he wait until the morning to find out

But when they checked her room that night
He was laying by her side

Oh he was walking her home
And holding her hand
Oh the way she smiled when he said this is not the end
And just for a while they were eighteen
And she was still more beautiful to him than anything
He was walking her home
He was walking her home

Looking back
He sees it all
It was her first date the night he came to call

Mark Schultz / © 2003 Crazy Romaine Music (ASCAP) (Adm. by The Loving Company)

*Insert Clever Title Here*

To any ghost readers there :), I haven't been on this blog because I had absolutely nothing to say that I thought was important. It has however recently come to my attention that things I consider to be extremely boring may be interesting to others.

At the moment I'm in Lagos ...I have been for three months actually. And Yes, I actually feel a little comfortable now that there has been a little bit of light... :D That's actually the only thing that can completely drive me from Lagos. Electricity. I hate hustling to iron or wash my clothes, or pump water o anything like that. Anyway Lagos is now looking fresh o...as in  there might be something in this Eko o ni baje thing sha.

I've been working in Lagos and battling the third mainland issue ...if you guys havent heard about it...there's one major way of getting from the Lagos Mainland (mostly middle class housing) to the Island (mostly upper class housing and business district) and that is the Third Mainland. Now this Third Mainland was rumoured to have been vibrating and for once in the life of Nigerians, it was actually decided to save lives BEFORE a major catastrophe could happen and actually start repairing the bridge. SO part of this major bridge that at least half of Lagos' ten million residents drive through at least once a week is closed. Chaos ensued.

But ...its been rather organized and I usually get driven so I can catch up on my sleep when I leave the house at 6 15 am to get to work at 9am (nope not a typo...)

In short Lagosians are still alive and kicking. We will survive because we always survive, that is the Lagos way...as long as no Tsunami shows up we'll be good... (God forbid...I have a morbid imagination)