Off My Chest…

I feel like every time I post something, I’m constantly apologizing for my inconsistency. Well, this time, I simply won’t do it. Just because I feel like you guys don’t deserve a watery excuse. Ever heard of the saying, “You are Jollof rice, Do not let anyone treat you like white rice!” Well YOU,  are my Jollof Rice. You are the redness to my tomato, and the spiciness to my ata rodo. You guys do not deserve slacking. I guess I did apologize *inserts cheeky laugh*

I am currently in the library as I type this. There is a couple seated in front of me, and I am disgusted. This is not the first time it’s happening and I am honestly wondering what exactly God is trying to tell me. I have no problem with PDA. If you like, naked yourselves on the library couch, your wahala. However, all I ask is that the PDA is good.

I think they are attempting to kiss. But all I can see is an appalling exchange of saliva. The girl has her mouth hanging open, almost immobile. And oga bros is sucking on her lips? The confusion going on in my brain is beginning to ache. How exactly are they this terrible? Do they not watch movies at least?!

I almost want to to go over there and ask them to stop this rubbish, but home training. In some twisted way, they seem to be having a swell time. Why don’t I get up and leave you ask? Because I am a bizzy body, and I need to see where this goes. Is there going to be some form of fondling? Is the librarian going to tell them to knock it off? Am I going to throw up on the floor?

Aunty just  pulled away. Uncle looks taken aback. She looks up at me and our eyes meet. I expect her to look away in shame or something but she keeps staring. I look down at my computer and type for a little bit. I look back up and this ant is still looking! Worst part is, she has this dirty smirk on her face, like she has been doing the sexiest thing ever. I burst into laughter. I think this is my cue to leave guys…

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So, I definitely went way off track there, but it was a good start to my day. Back to the agenda of the day! First things, first – Nigerians in the diaspora. I am a Nigerian in the diaspora, so bear this in mind before you attack me.

I  hate it when Nigerians who are abroad, come out and talk the worst smack about Nigeria. Granted, you have a right to, but to what end? If your end goal is to somehow be a part of the change, then fine. But what right do you have if all you want to do is be vocal on these issues? WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO CHANGE THE STATE OF THINGS? Tweeting? Of course, that is definitely going to provide a widowed mother with the support she needs to feed her family of five. Spare me.

I’m going to counter myself here, but I understand and am fully aware of the hardships that come with living in Nigeria. Right now, I’m sure you’re in  in a place where the mere thought of erratic power supply is  as foreign as seeing a dog stand up and dance Shoki. It is not a topic for discussion, because it doesn’t happen. You’re in a country where the educational and health sectors are fully functioning. You’re in a country where your security is guaranteed. You’re in a place where customer care is not a myth. The list is endless.

But think about it, if we all “run away” with this selfish “as-long-as-I’m-good–everyone-else-can-burn-in-hell” mentality, who are going to be movers and shakers?  In no way am I implying that people in Nigeria are daft, I’m just saying that Nigerians in the diaspora could be very useful additions. We don’t need that many people. All of you proud people that believe you inhale perfumed air, please stay. We don’t want, neither do we need you.

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*Tiri gbosa for the nappies!*                          

I am a natural hair enthusiast, even though my hair has been chemically altered. I like natural hair because the natural curls suggest self love. I like natural hair because I prefer a full head of thick curly hair to my boring straight.

At some point in my life, I  plan to rock my curls while I bare my chest and shout “Black Lives Matter!” from the roof tops. Because obviously, having natural hair automatically means I love myself more than my relaxed sisters. It means that I am automatically allowed to be passionate about social issues because I have not given into the ways of the white man.

Wholup, Wholup, Wholup. This is where you people get it  twisted. How does me having relaxed hair diminish my self worth in any way? How does it translate into me giving into white supremacy? How does it mean that I love my black any less? Why do some of you extreme naturalists see yourselves as superior? I need answers.

I acknowledge that a lot of natural girls are in it just for the curls and healthier hair. Shalla to you gals! You guys are the ones who make me dream of shea butter. But when I hear people say things like “When I think of relaxing my hair, I almost want to throw up!”, I wonder. So me that I have relaxed hair, I am foolish or what? You that you just hopped on the band wagon, because that’s what’s hip now, well done. I hope your fro is infested with lice, and they eat your brain. Mushroom.

I have so much to say on this topic, but for now, I’ll leave it at that. Permed or nappy, y’all are beautiful. Once in a while, just massage your scalp and remind yourself that your melanin is popping and forever will.

Disclaimer: Everything expressed in this article is solely my opinion. Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. If you like, tight it to your chest, your wahala.