Decades: Chunks of Time

Well, I got a call from a classmate on Monday that I needed to come back to Lagos to sign yet another form for my NYSC (I signed the fifth one the last time I went to Lagos). I am getting tired of the NYSC even before it has begun. But you know that with out the passing out certificate that shows that you participated in the program to serve your mother land, nobody will employ you here in Nigeria (and I think even the UK is asking for it now. People is it true?). So I have to travel back to Lagos asap, as the boy who told me said the forms will be submitted to the Dean of Student Affairs Office on Friday. So people, I had to choose one of these three options: A. Take a N15,000 flight down to Lagos and get there in time to fill the form, and take road transport back to Abuja. B. Take road transport to Lagos on Wednesday (I need a day at least to get permission, see my current website clients and notify them of my trip). Keep in mind that Road transport takes at least nine (9) hours to

I just read some of my baby girl's blog posts and fell in love over again. with words. I used to love writing, then all of a sudden I stopped. I think I need to pick up my pen again. Poetry is music on paper, someone once said, and how true it is. The words were just flowing like a brook through my soul. I think you all need to visit http://realitythrukemieyes.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html. RIGHT NOW! Kafo, keep it up. Keep it real! I love you always girl!

So where did I stop? Oh. Those people who would put down anything just to say they contributed to something. But the bride didn't even budge, since she had compromised enough on that very gown by adjusting it to fit the 'standard', there was no way she was going to let it bother her. I admire that. The second wedding was also lovely. And larger. It was in an ancient Seventh-day adventist church in Ile-Ife, and it was packed full as well, both with Nigerians here and in the diaspora. I was feeling okay and looking forward to seeing Vicky who managed to come for the engagement and wedding. He covered some of the wedding with the camcorder I brought. He was so happy to see his friends, that his conscience didn't bother him that he 'ran' from the office with a fake sick leave. You should have seen the smile on his face. I loved it. Back to the wedding, I loved the gown, and the colors chosen for the wedding. I loved the wedding website as well, its something I can c

This week, starting from the beginning (Sunday of course), till the end (Thanksgiving Service on Sabbath - Saturday). It started off with Busayo Ola's wedding on Sunday, and ends with Biola Kolade's wedding thanksgiving service on Saturday. I actually attended both weddings. I use the word actually because, for the first, it was a painful sacrifice, and for the second, I went out of my way to attend it.The first wedding day dawned with my head being pounded continually by a sledge hammer (Literarily, I woke up with a blasting headache). I was shivering and I had body pains all over. These were my usual Malaria symptoms, but I wasn't going to allow anything to hold me down that day, not even the sledge hammer.I had to go to the bride's house to get my attire, and it turned out to fit me like a second skin - too tight. I had actually visited the house twice to get the dress, which was sown for me by the Bride's tailor. I had sent my measurements via text to the Bride&

I got many reactions when I got home on Sunday. My mum practically lifted me off the floor. With tears in her eyes, she could not believe that she had survived without seeing me for three whole months. I was just happy - then surprised at the nice and gentlemanly way my brother (who's now a handsome young man, by the way) was behaving. I got served breakfast in Dad's room, and a bottle of wine was popped in my honour. I was touched. Then I entered my room, and found out that the clothes I left behind were two sizes bigger, and baggier. I had to start picking what to wear. God help me! I like feeling trim, but I have to keep on reminding myself that I am in my father's house, and it has this power to make one really fat, even if you spend jut two weeks. Honestly. Its a tried and tested statement. So I am watching it. Big time.

Man proposes but God disposes. At least it was so in my case. I had great plans to carry out when I got to Lagos, but here I am with less than half carried out. And time is running out - its so fast! I wonder where the day goes everyday. The weddings are so close now, its like its tomorrow. I cant wait! I still have to get my dress for the first one, but I hope it wont need adjustments. I seem to have lost so much weight - my mum screamed when she saw me. My whole family still cant believe that I could be this slim - and I am still complaining that I seem to stop at size 12! Don't mind me. I'll fill you in with each detail!

I was a virgin until recently. A virgin flyer that is (what was running through your mind?). I had never travelled by air prior to the 12th of August, 2007. This was due solely to the fact that I was an obedient child, and we were forbidden to fly because of the terrible state of most of the aircrafts in Nigeria (before). But since the multiple plane crashes, things have indeed gotten better in the airport system, only that my father didn't want to hear that. NO FLYING. Period. Then I got my chance, last week, when my Mum flew to Kaduna, and Dad was stiff-lipped angry. (So angry he was silent for a while). She told me, and added directions on how to leave the airport when I arrived in Lagos, if I chose to fly. Of course I chose to fly! And it was a lovely experience. Compared to the 10 hour journey by road (My Dad doesnt just insist on you travelling by road, he also selects which bus you travel in. Very thorough man), it was a fantastically short journey for me. In less than one h