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September 12, 2014

MAMA SYKIK .....



I remember the day mama Sykik found a love letter in my closet.

Back in the days, love letters where the “ish”, it was the means through which boys wooed babes. I  have mentioned in some earlier posts that I was a late bloomer so I didn’t get boys paying attention to me till my undergrad years........there was the random boy, here and there but Mama Sykik played her “breathing down my back” role so well and co-opted my brothers into saving their sister’s purity till marriage.

There was this boy who had taken a big brother/boyfriend role over me in school, come to think of it he never toasted me sha. The boy had to change schools in our second year and so we were separated and there were no GSM phones then. It was a tough time for me, I felt lost and so when I got a letter from this bobo (he sent it through a student who had visited his school). I read the letter every day and mumuishly took the letter with me home during the holidays....somehow Mama Sykik poke nosed through my stuff and read the letter, this was a letter I kept well folded inside my bible (I had to keep the letter holy abi nau). Mama Sykik doesn’t understand that there is anything called boundaries or personal space. After this incident, I learnt the trick of Eneke the bird that “since men have learned to shoot without missing, he has learned to fly without perching." I learnt to keep my privacy from her prying eyes.

I got home from my Mum’s store that day and met Mama Sykik at the door, brandishing my love letter (she doesn’t waste time attacking) immediately I saw the letter, I died and travelled to heaven..........it was easier facing God than Mama Sykik, I swear. She was gangster like that.....all I heard again was

Mama Sykik: Sykik am I not talking to you
Sykik: Ma, what did you say (My heart was skipping and I still couldn’t make sense of what she was saying)
Mama Sykik: are you listening to me at all, since you are deaf, let me explain myself better

Mama Sykik delivered one of those her “abara” slap, “abara”- is a back slap that brings you out of a coma. It works; ask any Nigerian Yoruba girl who grew up in the 80s and 90s. That “abara” brought me back from my coma and I can’t remember what my explanation was, but I must have confessed to sins committed and uncommitted. I was made to promise to break up with this bobo and cease all form of communication. After the beating and threats of that day, I am sure I never spoke to any man except my brothers for weeks.

How do you break up with someone who never toasted you sef? I told bobo about the incident and we just remained discreet until Mama Sykik caught us again and this time around she drafted Papa Sykik to cast the “spell of boyfriend” from my life.

I love Mama Sykik and  wouldn’t trade her for anything, though back in the days I had no “relationship” with her because I felt her parenting methods were cruel but I won’t be half of  who I am today without that strict grooming. Papa Sykik blended her parenting skills with his modern methods which she felt was “ajebutterish” but see me today, I turned out right even if I have to say so myself.

Will I trade my growing up years  for anything......NO......will I train my child(ren) same way......not really......but I am certainly going to do some “abara” giving or how else will they know I am a Yoruba mummy...lol....and God loves a cheerful giver :) 

September 08, 2014

MRS SOMEBODY



Young and without any care in the world, fresh out of school with a good paying job, cap that with a beautiful face and figure what more can a girl ask for? Hmmmmm.....she felt on top of the world.
Wow, she’s still a virgin at 36years and no boyfriend. She’s feeling old and grey; where did the years go......wait a second...where are the guys?

There’s a front desk officer in my office, her name is Sisi, and she got married less than a year ago. Her fairy tale wedding was the talk of the office and the so many “ohs” “ahs” no let person hear word for a while. It was rumoured she had landed a “big boy”, a-la- Abuja contractor.  In Nigerian parlance, a contractor is someone who doesn’t have a regular pay job and lobbies for government contracts. Depending on his connections, he might be getting the contracts in droves or trickles; he might also be a front for the “bigger boys”

Fast forward to some months after the “city people” wedding, the crack in the marriage is so wide that it has turned to office gossip. It is been peddled that Sisi paid for the wedding expenses, paid the house rent and also general upkeep of the house, the man rides her car (this car was bought by a sugar daddy according to the story tellers).   According to the association of office mongers (Sykik is not a member oh, though I somehow find myself in the gathering by default....hehehe.....I need to keep abreast of events around me and don’t worry, I cover my ears with the blood of Jesus before and after the tales) ,  the man hasn’t landed a contract in the God knows how long,  so his finances have dwindled and Sisi is tired of the charade and has asked him to pack out of her house, after all she paid the rent and he’s using her money to “carry babes” and flenjour all over town to keep up with his big boy status.... apparently the man has been chopping life at her expense.

The matter reached its peak when the man had to send emissaries to come and plead with Sisi in the office. Sisi no gree oh, she just downloaded all her expenses since she got married and asked them to give it to the man and also get him to repay her for feeding, his  monthly upkeep and accommodation for the last few months ( I was told the expenses included the car maintenance and fuel).......

Now, back to Miss-tall-and-graceful, yes, you are 36years old and still single, last time I checked marriage doesn’t give an automatic gate pass to heaven. The bible doesn’t list being single as a sin......... yeah, it definitely feels lonely and cold (at times), but the good news is, it doesn’t feel that way all the time. Enjoy the free time now while you can, you think you have spent too much free time already, let me tell you something, a lifetime of being married is truly a lifetime...it’s more than being called MRS, drop the desperation because the loneliness you are experiencing now is not because you are unmarried, it’s because you decided to host a pity-party everyday 247..yea....I would rather you make the right choice than make a desperate choice.

I am not qualified to give advice because I got married early so I probably don’t know how you feel but trust me, I know how it feels to want something so badly that every cell in your body aches and quakes, I know what it feels like to want to yell at God and say “Are you sure, you are God, do you thrive in my pain”.......however, I also know that there are days when you read stories like Sisi’s story and  you say “Dear God, did I call you names last week, I am so sorry, it was  that time of the month”...lol....yes oh, God knows about PMS, he knows about mood swings and he sure has a sense of humour too.

Don’t know if this post makes sense but, this is just another finger-is-itching-me-to-type ish!!!