Decades: Chunks of Time

Life is so funny. And so painful. I used to think of myself as an easy-to-heal soul, you know, the type that forgives easily, and forgets. I still heal easily - on the surface that is. My skin heals quick and I have no scars, no matter how severe. But I am wrong in my assumption. My heart has scars that wont dissappear. It is odd that the two scars that are prominent were brought on by similar circumstances, and by friends. The first was from a bossom friend who I loved deeply. I really felt for this babe. Don't get me wrong - I was not attracted to her, I just saw her as the sister I never had. I went out of my way to please her and help her. It wasn't that she was ill, or disabled or anything. In fact, she was and is a beauty - long legs, pretty smile, lovely figure. Around her, short, pudgy me was not self-conscious however. I felt at home with her. It didnt even matter that we were of different religions. All that mattered was her happiness. Our friendship stood the test ...

Have you ever planned the next year of your life and then after a few months, realized that nothing went according to plan? Well it happened to me. Back in October, I knew where I wanted to be in a year's time: I was going to be married, with my husband and I studying in a foreign country for masters degrees. We had applied and then things began to happen. First my Dad felt I was rushing to get married (Never mind that he'd insisted when I was 17 that by the time I reach my age, I should have given him 2 grandkids for him to spoil). Then my acclaimed alma mater university refused to send my transcripts to the schools I had applied to. As if that was not enough, I had not taken my TEOFL exam which was required to apply. Its now June. I lost the admissions because my transcripts never arrived even though my university claims they have sent it. My father has finally agreed to let me get married BUT at his own convenient time, and his own way (he has just declared he doesnt want us...

After a stressful day at a client's site, I got home feeling dog-gone tired. I went to check on my Mum and got a heart-stopper. After I left for work in the morning, my brother found her struggling to breath. He called Dad who got a heart specialist hospital name and address in Nigeria and sent it to my brother. He rushed her there and after several checks, the verdict was: she's overworked, overstressed, and in need of rest. Her flunctuating high blood pressure, low resistance to illnesses and skipping heartbeat will get worse if we don't act fast. She needs to reduce her workload drastically. She needs to rest more. She needs to stop worrying about things. She needs to change her diet totally. It was a wake up call for me. All the time that she was being prodded with needles and xrayed I was thinking only of work. Even as I entered the house that was what was on my mind. To be honest, if she hadn't chided me that I didn't ask how her day was, I probably wouldn...

I want to vent. Last week I had to mail the office that I wouldn't make it in that day. Then I had to send a file too so I used my flash drive on my brother's laptop for a few minutes. Later in the evening he came to tell me his laptop was acting pretty wierd- conclusion? There was a virus causing havoc on it. So I told him I'd scan my flash in the office, then ask advice on how to help him out. I got to the office and I scanned the flash, no issues. Then I double-clicked the drive and viola, my system started shutting down. I panicked and cried out. I called an angel who sent me a link to download a tool that he said would help out. Needless to say I was paralyzed throughout that day- I could not do any work. I got home and still gave him the link. He downloaded the tool but it was not effective. I went out, got back home and you know what? My darling brother had gone to see a friend I'd introduced him to who's a hardware guru. And guess what? He took the internet ...

What is this wahala now? Why must such a tiny state in Nigeria cause so much wahala? It is not even in the center, it is not even an original state but a cut out of another. I really dont understand why every newspaper feels they must print something about Ekiti on the front page every single day. And this has been the case since it was created. The latest sensation is the election rerun that even our busy President had to take time to go and see. I mean, you would think with all the monitoring eyes, everything would run smoothly but no, another twist in the saga has been announced. The outside world thinks we should be ashamed of ourselves. I a just praying that it does not get bloody, and that Ekiti will stop trying to keep attention all the time. Am not dissing Ekiti o[that was for Vicky who will soon be my husband, so he'll not quote me after the wedding - he's from Ekiti :D]. Am just saying they should behave themselves.

As I reply the last person to leave me in the office and wave goodbye I glance at the windows. It'd gotten dark and I knew it must be the clouds I'd seen earlier. The next time I look at the clock on my pc screen its a few minutes past six. I'd just read my pal kafo's latest blog post and I smiled sadly because I understood her pain. I was right where she was at the moment. Then I heard the heavy downpour outside. There was no way I was leaving the premises in the rain. While I waited for it to subside I took my time to think up an apt comment and wrote it. At the dot of seven I was outside the office gates with a shower cap on my hair. I waste ten more minutes in the light showers before heading to New Garage where I find an almost filled bus heading in my direction. After me there were only three passengers left. I removed my shower cap and stared out into the rain. It was getting worse by the minute. I waited expectantly for what I knew would come next: dripping. ...

Ok, its day 9, and I must confess I broke the rules a little. Rather than not eat fruits I chose not to eat at all. I didn't feel hunger pangs and I must say Vicky had to insist we go eat when he heard I had not eaten for over 10 hrs. I travelled for the easter break - went for Vicky's elder brother's wedding. I had to go a day earlier so I could participate in the preparations. This time we were on the husband's side of the wedding so we really didn't have much to do, but the little we did was a lot. I learnt to use my creative imagination again - did a lot of ribbon design and frills and twirls and stuff. We had to make the wedding Bible and the Wedding letter (Those of us that are Yoruba, know these things) frilly and nice-looking. We also had to tie ribbons on every other item - yam tubers, packs of 6-pack can drinks (up to 20 of that), and even a packet of sugar. At one point I asked if there was a goat on the list - at least something would wear the ribbons pr...