I left work early on Thursday evening – bad hair day and it couldn’t wait till Friday. What if I don’t get there early enough? and trust me; Friday evening is not the best time to go to this my semi-posh salon. I don’t know who thought to educate all the young and old women in town on the advantage of going to the salon after work on Friday to avoid the whole Saturday rush, because in the end, it turns out that the traffic at the salon is the same on Friday evenings, Saturdays and Sundays. Now that’s me travelling from the point. I struggled through traffic, arrived at the salon building and faced my first trouble which was the usual lack of parking space. I’m not sure whose idea it was to build a plaza with about fifty shops and now garnish it with parking space for twenty cars in a country where everyone has their ‘Ferrari’ on the road. Even if it is not their desire for poor customers to own cars, at least each shop owner should own a car, abi? Let’s do the math, 50 shops, 20 cars, this one go require further maths… I no fit!

Finally, I got lucky, as this madam was driving out, although it was in one of those ‘pay to park’ spaces; or isn’t half bread better than nothing again ne? I was quick to squeeze my ‘Bugatti’ in before she changed her mind about leaving, and I’m sure I remembered to add a “Thank You Jesus”, being the sister that I am. As I tried to park properly, behold my double blessings – there was another car driving out. Then the security man says, “aunty, you go fit revise go back or you go just enter for front?” So I settled to park in front and then went on to pay for the space. I smiled when the lady asked, “how many hours?” In my mind, I’m like, you guys close in less than an hour, am I suppose to tell you that I’ll spend nothing less than three hours at the salon, when y’all will be gone by then? Nah! Then I answered, “Between thirty minutes and one hour.” I paid for one hour and moved on.

I entered the salon, with everybody struggling to do the “aunty, how are you?”, “long time”, bla blab bla… That’s them reminding you to tip them before you leave. I don hear una, oya let’s get down to business – My hair! That’s how someone opened her pedicure kit. Ha! That scent I cannot miss – ‘pure witchcraft’, then I whispered to the lady taking out my weave that I wanted a pedicure as well even as I was certain that I wasn’t due for another one just yet. I did a quick peek into my wallet. Extra cash? Check. Debit card? Check. Then I called the lover to inform him I was at the salon, who knows things may get out of hand, I might need him to pay last last. In his usual drama self, he goes “I’m sorry I’m very tired, I can’t come, blab bla ba”, then I answered, “Fine!” I wasn’t ready for all those weak lines, he’ll say he’s not coming and then he’ll show up. ‘Pure witchcraft’ again and I was asking for facials. I did another peek into wallet. Cash? Check. Debit card? Check. Everything else? Check. Let’s roll.

Of course I spent more than three hours at the salon, not with all the extra indulgence that I rewarded myself with. Whatever for? I dunno. To be honest, it was worth it sha. I was almost done when the lover walked in with some evening snack – snails. Oooh lah lacious, I (do not) love this man. But nah! I don’t eat where hair gets done (it’s something in my head, you won’t understand); I gave him my car keys to put my ‘jackpot’ in the car for me. He came back with a puzzled look on his face and asked, “You had an accident and didn’t tell me?” Accident ke? I was ready to act drama. Abi bobo yi fa nkan ni (is this boy smoking something)? At this point, Mr. Lover had realised what happened and knowing me well, he had to stop me from showing myself in public, so he goes, “it is not serious don’t mind me, it’s like someone scratched your car, just a small scratch”. I relaxed in my chair again and let the stylist guy finish up.

I finished, got comments on how my hair was all that, tipped everyone involved in making me look beautiful and I remembered my snails in the car, it’s time to go home, biko. Feeling fly with myself, I approached my car and was welcomed by the biggest wreckage ever; some person had given my car some fine brushing. Both doors on the driver’s side were properly damaged. At this point I’m sure there was no more ‘flyness’ left in me. My first anger was at the lover, why did he lie that it was just a scratch? I can come back to him later sha. Who is the moron that will spoil a fine evening like this for me with this kind of bad behavior? Back to the lover again, why did you deceive me so? The funny part is how I wasn’t exactly upset about the damage, but I was sha angry that the lover lied about the degree of the damage… That was just wrong.

That’s how I entered the salon on this fateful day; bad hair, tired face and all + fairly pretty car and in those few hours that I had transformed into a queen of sorts in my new look, my car was now a jalopee with the doors singing a dirge as I drove home.

I’m on a mission to be happy by fire by force, damaged car or not… A panel beater can fix that, my happiness is my job, and only I can fix it… xoxo

Yours truly

Lawyer, talker, gistaranta!

P.S. This post was written on the 4th of December 2013.

Posted in Amateur Writing, From the Archives, Life Stories, Random | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

FROM THE ARCHIVES: Don’t Just Exist Until Then… How Old Are You?

As I travelled along, my body grew tired; my legs were weak and my soul, thirsty.

I sat on a stone, looked up at the sky, the sun shone very bright and I thought, “Behold, the day is young and I have until dusk to finish my journey. I shall rest here a little”.

I opened my eyes and looked up at the sky again; the moon had sent the sun to sleep. The day was over and my journey, undone. Then I thought, “I cannot travel in the night. I shall have a drink of water and rest here a little until I see the sun”.

I opened my eyes again, many ‘suns’ and ‘moons’ after; the sun was as bright as I’d known it; the stone I sat on was the same. The only difference was my hair; it was all grey, oh no, and my face too was old, my eyes were dim, my youth had gone with the years of sitting and waiting; and my journey remained unfinished. My dreams were the same, and they were after all – just dreams!

I died long before I started living, until it was impossible to live again and I thought – I can only exist until I die the final death… No?


I started writing again recently after a very long break and trust me; it’s all shades of strange. First, I don’t have any music playing in the background. I never write anything without music, I don’t even have proper music in all my gadget life; IPad, IPhone, IPod, Blackberry, Laptop, Media Player, ITunes, etc (oh yes, I brag, how else will you know what I own? :p). I had a couple of old songs on my Blackberry until last week, my memory card decided to wipe off all my stuff while I was trying to ‘DJ’ at my mum’s birthday.

It’s not just my musical life (or lack of it) that’s faulty, I’ve stopped reading, eating well, hanging out with friends (food for thought: do I still have friends sef?), and general fun stuff. Until now, I didn’t realize how much of me had died; I don’t even know how and when I stopped living. I just thought – oh well, I’m getting old; it’s okay to be bored and all.

It’s a phase many can relate with; that phase where you are almost not interested in anything anymore. You know how your friends call to say “hello” and they ask what you’ve been up to and your answer is always either “nothing much” or “just there”… That’s the problem right there, there can’t be nothing much going on, you have to make plenty happen plus you don’t need me to tell you how sad it is to be – just there. This was my wake up call – nothing much + just there.

Oh well… Now I know, I’m not old… I cannot be called that, until I’m about sixty or thereabout and even then, I’m not sure ‘old’ will be appropriate. Even my dad at sixty-five doesn’t refer to himself as old, so… Let’s leave old alone.

I want to start living, but the deal is usually to wait till the end of the year, do the ‘New Year Resolution’ thing again, live by it for the first week in the year… carry it a little into the second week, maybe and then back to ‘Dear Sweet Old Life’. That’s a ‘No Deal’ for me. I have a whole lot to start doing immediately, life is short, I can’t wait to start living again; I want to write again, read book after book after book, get another degree, I want to own a bicycle and ride it around, I want to paint, draw, dance like I know how to, make a few good friends, reunite with my good old friends, be nicer to the lover, do the big chop, learn to sew and all the other things I’d have done if I didn’t grow up fast, I want to be sixteen again, I want to be FOREVER YOUNG and I want to start NOW! So help me God.

I will start with my baby steps and as I advance or perhaps when life happens, I hope that I can always come back to this space to share… xoxo

Yours truly

Lawyer, talker, gistaranta!

P.S. I wrote this post on the 17th of July 2013 and saved it at about 01:12am (at least that’s what my computer said). I wrote the first and second half as two different posts on the same day, however, for some reasons ranging from lack of topics to the similarity in their content, I decided to merge them together as one post. Plus, the lover I spoke of in paragraph five (5) of the second-half post is not the lover again, lol… So much has happened since my decision to start living again – almost two years ago.

Posted in Amateur Writing, From the Archives, Random | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Ready, Set… Action!

Like many firsts – first day at school, work, a club, group, etc. writing your first blog post is not supposed to be easy; it doesn’t get easier with procrastination either; and this is because in the end, procrastination is just delay. NOTE: delay has no role whatsoever in simplifying things… Well, not in this case (trust me, you have heard this from the procrastination boss herself).

Meanwhile, I think it is weird that I should find this hard though, on a good day, I will jump at any opportunity to pick my pen up or endlessly romance my MacBook keyboard, stringing words together. Today, I’m like a fish out of water as I sit here, laughing and saying to myself, “it’s not that bad jor, just start!”

Please forgive my manners; let me start by welcoming you all to my not-so-anonymous blog. You all are very welcome; please feel free to bring your friends and family next time! After my many confessions I’m sure you already know that this is not easy, but I’m positive that it will get easier over time; especially with your constructive criticisms, encouragement, friendship, ‘gbagaun-detecting’ (lol), etc.

Before I proceed to give you gist on how it all started, I must remember to blame myself for lying sha… no genuine regrets though. However, this is my story – I have this friend that is always on my neck about anything and everything; if it’s not, “when are you starting your blog?” then it is, “when are you going to start working out?” or “are you still fighting with him? Hmmmn, you don’t want to marry, abi?” when it is a good day, then she is talking about detox, fruits or just jesting. I am not sure how I have coped with her all these years, but I am certain that if I have not died from her rants all these while, then I am a survivor, she can’t kill me again. Lol… Back to my story, she woke up on ‘that’ side of the bed again and called me last night and the next thing, she asked if I had finally started my blog. The first silly reply that popped into my head was a lie – I said, “yes, funny enough I’m working on it at the moment”. The long ‘yaayyyyy’ she gave me afterwards, I just knew that I had to get to it ASAP.

My dear people, that is how I got here – shuffling feet, tapping fingers on the table and praying that I get it right the first time. Yay or Nay to that, we did make progress or at least, we started… I will make that a yayyyyy! xoxo

Yours truly,

Lawyer, talker, gistaranta!  

Posted in Amateur Writing, Random | Tagged , , | 4 Comments