shirak!

So, apparently most of my charming and sweet female readers know too much about menfolk. Infact, some of you even know more than we do about ourselves going from some of the comments on my last post. *sigh* Women never seize to amaze me.

The man has not been born that can claim to totally understand women.

But, if you know this much already, why ask for more information? Why do I suddenly feel like I'm shooting myself in the foot? Giving myself up?

I will take Jinta's advice and keep my mouth shut on this.

No more.

I am sending this post in from the Dubai airport. I have 4 hours to burn in transit.

I had 55kg above the bloody Emirates limit of 42kg. The check in guy at the KL airport looked at my luggages, shook his head and said, "Sir, you have a problem". Well said. Had to spend the next 30 minutes repacking and packing all over again. I hear that's a widely known Nigerian characteristic :) My girl called and talked me through some proper packing skills. Ended up throwing away a number of manuals and packagings.

Emirates charges 150 Ringgits or $50 per bloody kg of excess luggage! That's robbery! Scratch that. Armed robbery. Thankfully, there is a cheaper option that takes about a week to get to you. Phew.
How the heck did I accumulate close to a 100kg of stuff in 4 months? Partly due to those people who gave me a list to shop for them and my lovely large family. I have to get married and cut them off my family list. That way I know it's just me and my wife.

So, here I am, looking forward to a blissful 7hr flight to Dubai. Sleeping and catching up on the latest inflight movies (Emirates really has new movies) and I get stuck with an elderly drone of a man.
From the time I sat down the guy kept on 'yarning'. WTF. I thought business class was for comfort and peace. Not in this guy's view. I was lectured by a 70 year old man on a wide range of topics including investment opportunities in the commodity market, world economy, world politics, problems with Palestinians and Jews, the over 100 countries he's been to, his 35 year old marriage... PHEW.
By the time I finally settled down to watch a movie with the guy soundly snoring beside me, the pilot said we had 30 minutes to touchdown. Drats.

Yes oh. I'm on my way to Lagos after 4 months and there are so many things I miss and more, I think, I do not.
I am excited. And thankful. For many things. Amongst others, J.

Argh. Boarding call for my flight.....

This is the first time I'm blogging from work and I feel terribly guilty, so I'm going to make this quick.
Thanks for your comments on My Women
Really don't know what brought that up, it was just the way I felt. And still feel.

Why is there a plethora of blogs originating from women?

I'm probably looking in the wrong place, but are women the only ones that blog on emotions, feelings, love?

Isn't there some masculine nigerian blogger somewhere that writes on female conquests, gadgets, electronics, sports? Male centered activities? Where? Where?
I'm beginning to feel emasculated (Currently watching Grey's Anatomy, that explains the word) Sorry. Did I say Grey's Anatomy? Na, I don't watch that. 24 is for me(getting tired of it though) . Oh, and Boston Legal. I love Denny Crane.

Think I'm beginning to yarn 'opats'?

I never start.
Facebook is not all bad...
A friend updated her profile early last week to say she was Malaysia.
Promptly sent her an FB nessage and she responded. She's around with another friend for about a week @ the Ritz Carlton in Bukit Bintang. Downtown Kuala Lumpur.
I was delighted oh. People I knew from Naija. Hallelujah! I went straight to the hotel from work on Tuesday and we hung out till like 1 am eating all sorts of Malaysian delicasies. I was proper feeling like some local already.

So, I hear fuel is scarce in Naija again.

I spoke to a friend in Lagos last week and he told me his driver had been out hunting fuel for 27hrs before he finally got a gallon!

WTF is going on there?!
No fuel in the car, so can't go out. Stay at home. No electricity. No fuel to run generator.
What to do?
I can't even think of that.
Ok, it's not that bad. At least we should get power for like 8hrs a day, right?

I hear they have regular power cuts in South Africa now.

Another friend that works with a multinational in Ibadan told me their South African colleagues flew in to Nigeria to understudy how they run the Nigerian business with generators.
Nigeria is now the standard of measure for power inefficiency.
Nuff said.

I've made up my mind.
I'm selling my car as soon as I get back to Naija and getting another bike.
The car is just sitting in Port Harcourt(PH) rusting... Anybody want a 2006 Corolla?
I live in PH, a big village. (My apologies to PH people) But for some reason, the town irks me.
I should be able to zip around when I need to move. Except when my wifey comes visiting. What the heck, she'll ride with me. Now, I just need to convince her.

male truths continued....

Secret 2:

We're unnerved by the notion of commitment, even after we've made one to you.
This is a dicey one, so first things first:
We love you to death.
We think you're fantastic.
The best thing to happen to us.
Most of the time we're absolutely thrilled that we've made a lifelong vow of fidelity to you in front of our families and friends at a bloody expensive wedding. (Enjoy yours OluwaDee)

But most of us didn't spend our formative years thinking, "Meehn, I just can't wait to settle down with a nice girl so we can grow old together."

Instead we are/were obsessed with how many women who resembled Eva Mendez we could have sex with before we turned 30.
Generally it takes us a few years (or decades) to fully perish that thought.
Infact, I still secretly habour mine. What the heck, I'm not married yet, am I?

Secret 3

Earning money makes us feel important.
I hear it is becoming more common for a girlfriend/wife to earn more than her bobo. Sometimes, even almost double. Infact, I think I stumbled on a Naija blog recently where the writer and her bobo decided that she would earn the cash, while he takes care of the kids (house husband). Ask Naija Chickito
This of course is a terrific development for all women in the workplace and all men warmly embrace it, right?
Right?
Yeah, well, that's what we tell you. But we're shallow, competitive egomaniacs.
You don't think it gets under our skin if our woman's bringing home more 'ego' than we are?
Someone I know told me earlier that he checks his wife's payslip regularly to see how much more he makes than her. He's recently been noticing that she's been closing the gap on him as she works harder (of course) and he's beginning to panic...
Solution: ''honey, don't you think you should take some time off work? Like a couple of years? Our kids don't really know who you are anymore''
Like he really cares..

Secret 4

We don't really understand what you're talking about.
You know how, during the day, you sometimes think about certain deep, complex "issues" in your relationship? Then when you get home, you want to "discuss" these issues? And during these "discussions," your man sits there nodding and saying things like "Sure, I understand," "That makes perfect sense" and "I'll do better next time"?

Well, we don't understand. It doesn't make any sense to us at all. And although we'd like to do better next time, we could only do so if, in fact, we had an idea of what you're talking about.

We do care. Just be aware that the part of our brain that processes this stuff is where we store the latest Arsenal/Chelsea/ManUtd./Enyimba/Shooting Stars football statistics. It does get pretty cluttered.

Or when we've had 2 or 3 or 4 dates with you, maybe even made out once/twice/thrice, we are just chilling, having a good time, and you ask strange/heavy questions. From nowhere.
Just out of the blue. No warnings or premonition.
''So, what are we doing?" Huh? "I mean, where is this going?"
Alarm bells start RINGING in our heads.
We understand this one.
Pleading Sydelle's fifth won't work here.
It means, Expressly clarify your objectives with me, NOW.
Another sample question:
What would you do if Eva Mendez (shit, she knows) wants to sleep with you?
Em, em....

P.S. I stumbled upon Afrobabe's post on Naija men yesterday
Darn, I felt good.

I'm still at work! Oh shit!!
Goodbye

I was in JS3 and 14yrs when I learned a vital lesson about love. My babe/crush at the time, Feyisade, was stunningly cute and frighteningly smart. And me? Let's just say I was an adolescent Will Smith (remember HITCH?) or better still, Steve Urkel (Family Matters) to her budding Gabrielle Union.

I was well aware of my good fortune.
You know the drill, when I was with her, my chest was out, tummy in. Yellow cheque uniform, prim and proper. White stockings and brown sandals to match. Boarding house style.
See me, Tobenna, hanging out with 'fine babe'.
Na yam?
Then one day in school, while chatting with her after an inter-school debate, some cutie from FGGC Benin walks by, wearing a tight red cheque and 'above-the-knee' uniform strutting her near non-existent backside (common ladies, I'm sure you remember this move) but well endowed breasts. Boy, was I distracted. Suddenly Feyi turned to me. "Were you looking at her?" she asked. "Do you think she's pretty?"
My mind 'wan scatter die'.

Of course I was looking at her!
Of course she was pretty! I paused for a second, then decided to play it straight in my stupid youthful honesty.
"Well, yeah," I smiled sheepishly.
MISTAKE!
Three days later our lovey-dovey game was over.

*BREAK*
At this point, my mind has wondered to the first time my arm brushed against a girl's breasts in my JS2. Damn, it felt good. I brushed it again ;accidentally', and got a slap I deserved. I deviate.
Back to the jist.
*BREAK*

There comes a time in every man's life when he discovers the value of hiding the 'base' parts of his nature. He starts reciting the sweet nothings you long to hear:

"No, baby, I rather hang with you than the boys"

"No, baby, really, you can take my car out."

"No, baby, I wasn't looking at that babe wearing a wet t-shirt"

We're not lying, exactly. We're just making things...well, easier.
These white lies are pretty innocent, but they can turn confusing.

Many women think, If he's lying about himself, is he also lying about something else?
Is he having an affair?
And so, in the interest of clearing the air, I'm willing to share some of the private truths we wouldn't normally confess to.

I will not confess to them outside this blog.

Some are a bit silly. Some you've always suspected. Some are surprisingly sweet. (Guys don't like to reveal the mushy stuff) But read on, and you may discover that the truth about men isn't all that ugly.

Secret 1:

Yes, we fall in lust 10 times a day, but it doesn't mean we want to leave you.

When you ask "Were you looking at her?"

The stupid answer is "No oh, I was just admiring God's work"

The truthful answer is "Yes, we were."

If you're sure your man doesn't look, it only means he can see clearly from the corner of his eye.
When a woman walks by, even if I'm with my girl, my vision picks it up.
I fight the urge to look, but I just have to. I'm really in trouble if the woman walking by has her cleavage or more sticking out.
Granted, we men are well aware that our 'sizing up' the babe doesn't sit well with you.
But really, our passing glances pose no threat.
It's not that I want to make a move on her
Looking at other women is kinda like a radar that just won't turn off.

I read a related article to this online and it was just too true .
So, I have taken the pleasure to cannibalise/distort/plagiarise/customise it as I see fit.
It was not originally written by me.
Nevertheless, let me have your thoughts....
If you want me to continue, I will add the other secrets or, shall we call them truths....
Post by post.

Some write a prose
Some give a rose
All give something
Time, money, attention, whatever
What for? You may ask?
Womenfolk

There are 2 important women in my life
My mother, my lover
Whatever happens to my sisters?
Left to the men who would call them his woman.
Hoping he treats them like I treat mine

I try to love all women equally
But I love my women especially
Sometimes I confuse my women
Maybe even wish I could substitute them when the need arises
Truth is, my mother can never take the position of my lover
But my lover can take the position of my mother

She is my best friend, my confidante, my business partner
And most importantly, my lover
This, amongst all others, make her my best woman

Jumping Jehoshaphat!
(Honestly, I don't know where that came from)

I just finished the marathon, and I live to tell the tale as the evidence on the left shows.

21.9km completed in 3hrs 3 minutes.
For me, that was a major accomplishment.
For others, well, lets just say ''That's their own business''.
Not sure what my position is/was. I really don't care. I finished it in qualifying time of under 3hrs 30mins. And for me, that means I'm a star :P

Back to reality.
My legs are aching me.
Infact, aching is probably an understatement. They are killing me.
Right now, they are just moving in isolation of my body. No co-ordination whatsoever.
I say 'move' and by default, they move.
What have I done to ameli...., ameliroa......, (WHATEVER!) the issue?
I have picked up the yellow pages and phone to ask for a home masseuse.
Hmm, I wonder how that will go.
So, right now, I am patiently waiting for the person to come.
Relief is in sight.
It had better not be a man!!
And to think that I have work tomorrow?!
I may have to ask for the day off.

Em, not sure if I mentioned it before, but my stay in KL has been extended for another month.
Let's leave it at that.
Don't bother trying to understand the implications for me romantically.

Aah, ring goes the bell.
I think its the masseuse or 'massager'.
Anyone.

Gotta run.

that caught my attention today....

LAGIMO


I don't even know what the chorus means, but Rooftop MC's R.O.C.K



FITNA


Let's see how long fitna will last before it's taken offline.
Don't even know if its factual.
I'll reserve my comments on this for now.

It's a little past 8am.
I just woke up to a phone call from my angel...
I'm late for work and my bones are aching.
This is due to my 12km jog last night.
Na wah for this marathon.

Bottom line of our conversation is that I now have my best friend and girlfriend on my blog.
She found me.
She knows my pseudonym.
Put that together with blog on google and you get a direct link here.
Sigh.
I was not upset. After all, I casually mentioned it to her before I realised my mistake a few weeks ago. Didn't seem like she remembered.
I just feel like, well, a child that has been caught out.
So, I have had to take down the some of my most commented on posts.
(Y'all know what I'm talking about!)
DAMAGE CONTROL.
They will come back up, eventually. I hope.

Now she knows.
She says she won't come back here, but I want her to. Just not like this.
The phone call didn't finish well.

The half marathon comes up next Sunday. 21kms.

I still haven't decided on how to propose to my girl.
I'm still thinking, thinking and thinking.
I have some of her ring specs. now, a friend of hers got it for me. Size: O and 7. Whatever that is.
Colour: Silver. Still waiting to get the design she loves from my source.

I sent a mail to a friend who got married in November last year and asked him how much the wedding cost them.
He replied ''almost N3m''.
Rough conversion to dollars is $25,000.
At this point, I'm trying really hard to not scream an expletive.
$25,000!
WTF!@?!
I am definitely not ready to get married.

To top this, someone sent me this link:
(If your internet link is not fast, you can select to open the page using a lower bandwidth. Oh, and enable sound on your pc. The song is one of my favorite)

http://www.photosbyknight.com/gray/

All this for a proposal.
Was this an overdo or what?

Allow me to scream in my dialect......
CHINEEEKE!
My girl must not see this.
ABEG.

All my plans (or lack of) are now in disarray.

I know, I know.....
I have not dropped a post in 2 whole WEEKS!

There has been a MAJOR crisis at work that has left me practically living in the office.
Just got home now after spending 36hrs straight in the office.
I am DRAINED.

Just let me recover, and I'll be back crawling over all your blogs.

P.S. I missed y'all.

That's what they say. Isn't it?
Wake up, men!
That's a lie started by womenfolk to make us believe we are on top.
And we stupidly buy the crap.
Male ego, male chauvinists, blah blah blah...
Crap.

Want to know the truth?
Women have been pretending to be the weaker sex for centuries.
Just take a look around you.
They are very comfortable working behind the scenes.
Whether it's a sister, mother, wife, girlfriend, whatever.
Every man is answerable or can be manipulated by one woman.
Better it's only one woman. God help you if it's more than one.

Am I upset?
Nah. I just realised this fact after a score and dozen years in this world.
Realised and accepted it, actually.
Now, I can go ahead and plan to marry.

When it comes to sex, men tend to feel like the 'big kahuna.'
Over drinks, we boast to our friends about our 'legendary' sexcapades,
'Mehn, I chop that babe, easy.' Sharp guy.
Ever stop to think that the babe 'chopped' you? Or that she used you?
No way! We can't even think about that.
Infact, I shudder at the thought.
I met a girl once in Lagos, got attracted to her, and we had a freaking fabulous one night stand. Same day. A testament to my 'womanising' skills. Or so I thought. The next day, over breakfast, she calmly told me that we would not see again. No problem.
Saw her a few days later at Silverbird Cinema, wanted to renew acquaintances, and she almost literally said 'Do I know you?'
Damn! I felt used.
Scratch that. I was used.

My testosterone level is soaring up.
I need to find a righteous way to burn it out, so I've registered for the Kuala Lumpur International Marathon taking place March end with some of my colleagues at work. I have to jog 6km 3 times a week now. Hope to increase to 12km soon.
Funny thing is, because I'm black, they expect me to win the freaking marathon.
I tell them to take a chill pill oh. I'm Naija. We don't do marathons, talk less of win.
I have my own personal reasons for doing this. Faithfulness.

Hey, it's working.
There is a reduction already!

Ok, here's the koko. (jist)

I'm a Nigerian. Born in Nigeria. Educated entirely in Nigeria. Work for a Nigerian company.
This background is necessary for my tale.
About 4 years ago, after working for roughly 3yrs, I suddenly woke up and decided to go on a vacation to Yankee (America). Not jand oh(UK or London as we call the whole country here) Yankee! I needed to see this place.
My friends tell me, ''Visa go hard with this your virgin passport oh. Try jand first, dem dey give visa pass yankee. You fit go yankee later'' (Funny, with other African countries visas on it, it was still labelled virgin as far as yankee or jand wasn't on it)
No. I wanted to go to Yankee, men :)
So, I apply, get an interview and get the visa. Easy.
Don't let me start on the embassy process. The whole thing is a Nigerian movie.

I buy the cheapest return ticket (I couldn't find someone to 'lap' me) - economy, last row, Iberia, via Madrid at the cheapest time - January end. (I asked the ticketing staff if I would get a reduced fare if I did not eat on the plane)
Time spent in Madrid waiting for a connecting flight: 13hrs.
Who cares? I dey go Yankee!

Landed in JFK. Chei! Obodo oibo. I honestly felt like kissing the tarmac as we disembarked. True oh.
(Bear in mind that all I knew about America was the thousands of hollywood movies I had seen, MTV, CNN etc, etc.)
Flew in with only a backpack, (went back with 2 mega boxes) passed through customs, no stress. Final checkpoint, Homeland Security. That name filled me with terror. ''Can I see your passport, Sir?'' I showed the bugger. ''Step this way, Sir''.(Naija passport) ''How long you here for, Sir?'' ''3 weeks'', I replied very humbly. I had heard that these guys could deport you in an instant, visa or no visa. ''This backpack all you got for 3 weeks, Sir?'' ''Yes....''(I be wan add Sir, but liver no gree me) ''Somebody picking you up?'' ''No'' I reply. My hopeless friend just sent me an email describing the way to his place in Jersey.
After strip searching my well packed bag, they let me through.
''Have a wonderful stay, Sir'' This their 'Sir' sef don dey tire me.

January end, apparently it's still winter in NY/NJ. I had no idea. Frostbite and cold nearly finished me. Naija guy like me. We (Nigerians) have this illusions of grandeur. I wonder where we get it from. Walked into a shop the next day, put on the winter clothes I needed, went to the counter and paid for them with the clothes on.

Got to Penn Station in NY from the airport, I saw a guy carelessly urinating inside the station. My word?! Maybe he's mad! Got off the PATH train in Hoboken and an elderly wowan squatted right at the entrance and was urinating!! What is going on?? Did the plane miss road? What country am I in? America? I get unto another train, and drop off at the final station. There's a huge waste dump beside it and a stench. There's a strong wind on the streets and dirt is flying all over the place. The place reminded me of .......... Mushin market!
Right now all my five senses are reeling from the assault.
I hear my name and turn to see my friend. At last, someone I know, in this jungle.
We walk to his car, he unlocks the door, there is a steering lock bar across his steering wheel. The type my old man used to use in the '80's. He unlocks this too.
We drive to his house, there is a gate with a chain and a padlock across. He unlocks it, drives through and locks it back.
In Yankee! This is looking really bad. My first day.
WTF is all this?!

One time, NEPA even took light for about 45 minutes. At night! No candle to light (like the one on my profile picture) or torch/lamp to put on. They tried sha. They only took the light only once during my 3 weeks there :)

New York has a stark semblance to Apongbon and CMS. Ok, apart from some fantastic sites (Broadway, Times Square, etc), big TV's and bright lights. It was complete with proper Nigerian-like markets (just like the ones on Broad street/Mandilas in Lagos Island) right beside the skyscrapers, beggars (''yoh, homie, can I get a dollar''), people sleeping on street corners, people hawking $1 watches and wallets on wheel barrows, mad traffic (both vehicular and pedestrian), people selling hotdogs and whatever else at street corners (in Naija, it would have been akara balls/bole/guguru & ekpa)

How come I don't see all these things on CNN or the movies?

I eventually ended up having fun. Went to fantastic places, met great and not so great people.
Spent a few days with some childhood friends in Texas.
''Tell us,'' they asked me, ''how is Naija now?''
''Oh, not bad. Same 'ole, same 'ole. Some improvements here and there, the economy is improving. Getting better, but very slowly.''
They look at me, shocked. ''We've never heard anyone say good things about Naija. All we hear is bad news''

There you go. Different folks, different strokes.

So, this is America? By my experience, yes.
Was I in the wrong place at the wrong time?
Maybe. Correct me, Americans.

Lesson learned, America is a great place. Sometimes true. Not always.

P.S.
As an aside, Hasbro is creating a new Monopoly (remember the game?) with world cities. You can vote for your cities. Deadline is 29th February. To vote for Lagos to be included, click this link: http://www.monopolyworldvote.com/en_US/world
Probably too late to make a difference. But who knows.