Meet the Parents

I just started dating my ‘bobo’. Yes people, the lonely days are over.  He is simply lovely. There are just no words. We are both a bit advanced in years; he is five years older than I am, so naturally, this is serious dating. To this end, family has begun to creep into the matter.

I’ve always wondered what it was like to meet “man’s” parents as a bona fide iyawo (no...creeping out of his room, one shoe in hand while attempting to wear the other, mascara halfway down your face, human hair a sorry sight and his mother catching a glimpse of your tore-up-from-the-floor-upness on her way to prayer meeting at 6am does NOT count as MEETING).

I got to find out first hand. I had romanticized it in my head soooo much...alas....c’est ne pas panadol as the popular advert says.

Let me tell you my head version of meeting the folks: a buxom semi-old lady who has the same loves and taste in lace and Ankara as me, will come rushing out of the bowel of her modest home somewhere in Lagos, arms outstretched and envelope me in a bear hug while in my peripheral vision, I will see a distinguished gentle man with a cane and possibly a pipe (why not a pipe and a newsboy cap as I’m building castles in the air) beaming gently while he shakes my hand (once his buxom wife has let go of me...of course) and giving me a back pat while he says in a booming voice “Welcome to the family, my dear” And I will do the Yoruba girl full kneeling and we would all walk back into the modest house, arm in arm, gisting while I decide I’m never leaving. Then I go on to raid the buxom old lady’s wardrobe (remember she has the same taste in Ankara) as she looks on indulgently while I cart away rolls and rolls of original vlisco Ankara.

Can anyone say “is this one high????”

First off, I’m not that forward. I’m not immediately chatty when I meet people. Very rarely will I initiate conversation in a circle I am not used to. Don’t get it twisted, I have been known to and will talk your ear off when I’m comfortable, just not immediately.

So Cherry, worrapoun?

That’s how my man invited me to his family’s New Year party in a deep surburb of Lagos, let’s not dwell on that sha. I was all “oh ok cool, will love to meet the folks”. As the date drew nearer, the kind fear I begun to feel was unknown to man. I pushed back pick up for hours and hours. Eventually, I knew the jig was up. I made my way to the deep surburbs, heart in mouth.  As we all know in a typical African setting, it takes a village, as such, “parents” is indicative of the ENTIRE family. Any one that is older than the bobo is some sort of father/mother figure in his life.

The reception was wonderful and I really should have felt at home. His mum met me at the gate with a massive hug and chided me for delaying pick up as long as I did while my man stood nearby; grilling and grinning.

I will take you through my three biggest fears.

1.      What to wear:

this was jamb o. I don’t think he appreciated how long it took me to find dress. All my clothes took on a stripper like quality: too short, too cleavage-y, too tight, too bright, too just not good enough. I eventually decided on the most ‘Mary-Amaka’ of my dresses; a black, flowery, boat neck, sleeveless dress with pleats. I looked like I was about to teach Sunday school. Things we do for man, eh. Mr. Oga’s lack of appreciation for the time and thought that went into picking the dress led him to say “your dress is nice but you should just be yourself”. The sideeye he received was brief (cos of his family) but sufficiently malevolent. Be myself ke? Ogbeni, park well! I was being myself, just in a longer dress than he was used to. The dress is the first impression before you open your mouth. An inappropriate dress will send the mother into a tail spin and if you’ve lost the mum, you’ve lost the war. There’s only so much of ‘omo ti o look responsible, yen’ that a guy can hear before he gets tired of defending your irresponsibly dressing ass for a chit more suitable for mummy. So if you’re intending to meet your man’s folks, I will suggest the following clothing items, Kaftans, Burquas (face veils, optional), lovely non-threatening knee to ankle length unfitted, dresses. Use a belt to define your waist and flatter the dress. Nothing fitted. You’ve been warned.

2.      What to say:

This one na die. In a house teeming with uncles and aunties, cousins and sister in law, brother and nephew, what to say will flee fast from your mouth, leaving you looking morose. I smiled a lot and I needed physio for my cheeks afterwards. I literally had nothing to say. Plus man was outside, determined to grill all the chickens in Lagos instead of being my ice-breaker. God is watching him. After a while, he handed me over to a cousin of his and we literally got on like a house on fire. I had been quiet for almost 2 hours periodically speaking to a friend of his, but for the most part quiet. But when I started talking to his cousin, my posture on the chair sef changed and we were just gisting away. His mum had to ask if I had met her before. Lol.

It is difficult to advice on what to say for the first meeting. But listening is a good skill too. Don’t knock it.

3.      What if they don’t like me:

I am adorable…if I do say so myself…and I do. This thought didn’t cross my mind until I realized I forgot my peace offering at home almost halfway to my destination. I’m like what kind of knuckle head visits a place for the first time and not take anything. I’m going to come across as completely mannerless to his folks. Then I had a healthy dose of…DAMN! They may actually not like me. That’s a real possibility. The cure for this lies in getting to the venue. They may or may not like you. Good luck on that one.

Anyways, you’ll be glad to know I got through it unscathed. His mum was nice. His dad is the silent, stoic type and I didn’t formally meet him, so no clue on his thoughts. His uncles and aunties are pretty nice. Promises were elicited that we would visit them individually and until such a visit, they ‘did not know me’.

It is one of the toughest things to go through in life cos your partner can’t feel it with you. They are his folks so they are nice. He is not being insensitive, those are just the facts. I’m glad the initial show-pony stage is over. But there are truck loads more to meet. Wish me luck.

Outrage: Dr Bello

I was sent this account of a new movie showing at Silverbird nationwide from a very enraged friend of mine called AA. She is so enraged, she wants to sue. And I say SUE...read on to understand her gripe.

My husband and I arrived the Silverbird Entertainment Centre in Abuja on Friday December 28, 2012 at about 8:00pm, with no particular movie in mind. Having had a tiring day at work with no time to check up the available movies, I relied heavily on the movie guide in selecting a movie. My attention was drawn to the movie “Dr. Bello” not just because it was tagged movie of the week, but also because the movie catalogue had the following information, “Starring: Maria Bello, Pierce Brosnan, Claudette Monk, Gerard Butler, Samantha Ferris” and a promotional image showing some New York buildings with a mountain in the background. 

See flyer for details ...

Fortunately it was delayed and was to start showing at 8:20 which made the timing perfect. Even more perfect was the fact that my husband loved Gerard Butler. So before he could take his time to locate an action movie or cartoon showing at the same time (yes, I said cartoon), I quickly pointed out that Gerard Butler would be on a screen by 8:20, so we decided to see Dr. Bello based on the information in the movie

catalogue.

We walked into the viewing room minutes into the movie and seeing Dr.Preston Burke of Grey’s Anatomy on screen seemed a good sign of the caliber of actors and genre of the movie. As a matter of fact, I thought he was Dr. Bello. I quickly took a glance at Mr. husband, already proud of my choice of a movie. We were lucky to get a good seat; the movie progressed with some white faces in an American hospital, and some shots of the empire state building. But that was it, there was one black face at the hospital, a janitor, so I thought oh well. 

Then there was Jimmy Jean-Louis, the Haiti born actor famous for his role in Phat Girlz and another black guy in a room. I’m no racist, I’m black. It’s just that when I see Gerard Butler and Pierce Brosnan on a movie schedule, I know what my expectations are, especially when you are a great critic and you’ve recommended a movie to Mr. husband who will be too glad to gloat, if your recommendation goes south.

In no time, we were in Nigeria, hearing recommendations about getting connected through MTN from Stephanie Okereke and Femi Brainard, heading to Olumo Rock, and then getting arrested by Jide Kosoko on the way to Ondo. By the time we got to Ondo with Genevieve Nnaji, we knew it was time to cut short our expectations. This was no more than an Africa magic production with a few shots in the US and a few white skinned folks. There was just no Gerard Butler in the movie called Dr. Bello, neither was there a Pierce Brosnan.

Was it a honest mistake or had Silverbird deliberately misrepresented the facts to the audience, to me most especially. Personally, I relied heavily on the movie catalogue in selecting a movie. After all, that IS the purpose of a movie catalogue. Plus, I don’t remember seeing a disclaimer anywhere like “silverbird will not be liable for any reliance on the information supplied in this movie catalogue” Dem no even born them. What then would be their job?

My Lawyer instincts tell me that I accepted to watch Dr. Bello, based on the representations made by Silverbird and furnished adequate consideration when I paid N3000 for two movie tickets for my husband and I, not forgetting the over-priced shawarma and fizz drinks. Once we realized there was no Gerard Butler, we were out of the screening room barely 40 minutes after we got in. I would like to think that I would be entitled to a refund or free tickets to see another movie for which I will not be relying on the

movie catalogue or perhaps a legal action may be appropriate in the circumstance because “When you purchase a product based on an ad or statement that you later learn to be untrue, you are the victim of false, or deceptive advertising. As a consumer you are protected against this type of advertising and can sue the business that released the advertisement or lodge a complaint against them to a state agency.”

Just so we’re clear. I’m not saying Dr. Bello is not a nice movie, I didn’t see it to the end so I can’t make that call. I’m saying thanks to Silverbird’s movie catalogue, I was too disappointed to appreciate the movie. Thankfully, Mr.Husband was magnanimous enough not to rub my choice of a movie in my face, but I’m personally seething at the misrepresentation and I must be appeased. 

I laughed long and hard when I received this because funny enough, Lagos traffic forced me to watch this drivel disguised as a top shelf movie. I laughed and talked all the way through...which would have been fine for a comedy but not for a 'topical, heart rending drama depicting sacrifice for our brethren, our hallowed educational institutions and our efficient police force' . Gimme a break! I saw the movie all the way and it was N1,000 terribly spent. I saw an opportunity to make a great comedic movie gone to waste. The only good thing they did was to showcase rustic Nigeria and its sights and sound. They just boobooed us with Isaiah Washington. The Lord is their strength!

On a legal side, false advertisement is a standards issue and legitimate expectation is also to be considered as reasons to sue. Someone should take this up with SON or the Films Board. It is the lowest, most disgusting form of trickery. Lagos Silverbird did not lie so blatantly and the sour look on the attendant's face told me all I needed to know about the fil so I did not have any legitimate expectations that were dashed like my darling friend. Take heart ehn. Let's fight the power. If you're suing, let's make it a representative action for all the bs times that my movie will go off mid-watching without any apologies. Silverbird nationwide have the worst staff EVER. I will be happy to join in and I have a cause of action: Silverbird sucks!

Thanks for sharing AA. I really loved the write up.

The Holiday Chronicles

Happy New Year lovies!

Indeed, I have been a very naughty girl with my blogging. I accept.

It is a combination of gruesome hours at work, extreme fatigue and a pesky writers' block. All probably going to get worse this year cos my supervisor at work has absconded under the pretext of going to do "Masters" (*sideeye*) leaving me by myself to man the department and a subsidiary company (God knows his house address). Sigh!!!!!

Anyways, enough of the moaning. On the bright side, I got a break from work, which sadly, like all things, has come to an end. So this is a post recapping a couple of things I did and lessons learnt rounding off the old year.

You would think with 13 days to spare, I would be out and about doing things and having fun...well, let me tell you, I had fun of a different variation...I slept!!! I will explain why this is noteworthy.

You are no kin of mine if you are unable to embark on and enjoy 10 to 15 hours of sleep. In fact  it is a proven fact that all members of my father's side of the family are sleepers who can sleep on top of water. So add this normal day fact to the fact that I was actually completely sleep deprived and exhausted, the inevitable conclusion is na sleep sure pass.
 I actually took days off to catch up on my sleep and walking about my house aimlessly. Christmas day saw more of sleeping and aimless meanderings about the length and breath of my house. A very rewarding endeavor...trust me.

For this post to not be entirely about my abnormal sleeping habits, here are some things I did (besides sleeping) that may interest you. (Trust me...you care.)

1. Clubbing for the aged.
After almost 9 months of not darkening the doorsteps of a clubbing establishment, I decided to put on my dancing shoes and gerron the dance floor.

Big. Mistake.

To start with, the contents of my bag were more geriatric at the nursing home than young lady about town. I had a handfan to counter the heat as well as combat dizzy spells from the all too common bane of the clubbing contingent ...oh no...not cigarette smoke...this enemy is much more aggressive and goes by the name of BODY ODOR.
I also had a pair of comfy sandals to change into after the initial gra-gra of swaying in on the requisite 4 to 6 inch heels.

I was quickly reminded of why I had stopped walking my old ass about clubs. The reasons are as follows:

a. Jesus has my heart;
b. the larger part of the crowd were my brother's people who had returned from 'the abroad' for the festive season sporting vomit inducing 'fone'; and
c. I had a 9 to 15 years head start on them in life.

I was actually approached by one these youngúns at a club called 'Sip'. It was cute.The following is the conversation that ensued between the young man who will be referred to as 'California Love' (cos he took the pains to remind me repeatedly that he had come from California, like the puke inducing, forced forne was not enough of a give away) and myself.

California Love: Hey, I've been looking at you from over there
Me: *furiously fanning myself as Sip is a health code violation and death by heat is a possibility* How are you
California Love: I'm great. Listen, I've come all the way from California to meet you
Me: Other side of the room is California??? A lot of Nigerians have not caught on to this marvel.
California Love: Haahaaa. California USA. Do you want to dance.
Me: * I feel so ashamed cos I actually grumbled like an old bag lady* It is too hot to dance in here.
California Love: Listen, since I came from California, I've been looking for a tour guide to show me around Lagos. I believe you could be the one.
Me: Very foolish and trusting of you. It is too hot. Bye dear.
*Exits club left.*

The worst part of the night and clubbing in Lagos  really, is the hustle to get into the clubs and the power drunk and very foul smelling bouncers.  We went to this club called Aura and people swarmed outside like the cure for cancer was inside the club. The beefcakes parading as bouncers had an attitude to match their physical stink. They kept pushing people back and just generally being rude. Like this was not bad enough, I felt my perfume flee from my body when it caught a whiff of a particularly aggressive body odor from one of the young men hustling to get into the club. I just gave up, searched for my friend and we left for a Chinese restaurant that tuned into a club after hours then to an actual Chinese restaurant for some much deserved nourishment.

Needless to say, clubbing is now officially one of my least favorite activities.

2. Compact or Camouflage? The adventure of the purchase of an IMAN compact powder.
Despite my Lagos girl know-how, I got conned out of #4,500 for a powder that makes me look like a second degree burns victim. I have never been so light and patchy in all my life!

 The special lighting effect in this popular beauty shop in Ikoyi whose name sounds like 'minkabobbylyne' had me fooled that I was a dewy goddess with glowing skin that MUST be accentuated with a Luminous IMAN powder to foundation as they did not carry my boring, old Flori Roberts powder.

I allowed them to lead me to a chair amidst cries of "Ah Aunty! Skin yin fine gaaan!!! E ti e ni spots rara!!! (Ah Aunty! Your skin is so fine. You don't have any spots) ".

Then, a magic brush was produced and after several minutes of light dusting, I was luminous as promised on the pack of the powder. My glee was short-lived, when upon returning home with my expensive powder, my obviously not magic brush could not replicate the magical dewiness/luminosity that the minkabobbylyne brush had perfected.

I ended up looking like someone whose old skin and baby skin were warring with each other after a particularly aggressive chemical peel.

Things we do for the gbogbo bigz geh effect! Sigh!!

3. The Best Show Ever!!!!!!
The one, fun thing I did during this holiday was the only thing that did not cost me a penny. I went to the Bez and Friends Concert at the Eko Hotel. This was literally days after the shambles that was the Koko Concert, which thankfully, I chose a night of choco milo eating and Nollywood movies watching, over.

My sister, who has the best job on the face of the earth, scored us free tickets to the show.

That concert was a master class in event planning. Beautiful! Beautiful!! Beautiful!!! Coupled with the fact that I am a huge Bez fan, the night ended on a perfect note. Bez was charming, the live music was just on point, there was some chick who did a duet of 'More You' with Bez, whose voice is literally to die for. I just had a perfect night.
Plus he had the cutest violin player!!! *love*

Following that night, plans have been kicked into high gear to kidnap Bez and put him in a room and just creepily stroke his face while he sings 'More You', 'Zuciya Daya' and 'I know' over and over and over again. To this end, I have secured an introduction . Can someone say 'friends in right places'?
Lesson learnt: Bez is awesome! Finish!

4. Plastic Parade.
My cousin's step sister was opening her store and I was asked to come. As one who must not be a last carrier, I carried myself to the opening.

On getting there, I realized that my cousin and another friend of mine (a relative of the store owner's husband) did not want me to be great!

These binshes had invited me to a spendfest!!! The clothes were handmade and pretty. The gliteratti of Lagos had turned out in full force and in Jenifa speak "dis was the opposhunity of being a bigz geh dat I always wanted to be"

Hiding my patchy face (see item 2) behind my hair  I went to work; looking at clothes and jewelry, trying on a few things and eventually, whipping out the plastic to pay for my purchases. Alas, they were quite meager and not quite bigz geh worthy at all. But nonetheless, some garri will be ingested as penance for my foray into Lagos High Society.

Staying in one's lane is highly advised for the new year.

This concludes my holiday chronicles.

I had a lot of fun in rounding off the old year; loads of weddings and family fun. I have missed you like crazy and I have outed myself with respect to some things I was busy doing instead of blogging.

Send my cane via the comments page.

Have a fulfilling 2013 my darlings