Anglo9ija

I once took a girl to an art gallery in Abuja, and was left to rue my luck the whole night. Who send me message? That was three years ago though. She tried to tell me she wasn’t into all that art stuff. That she felt a little frightened by paintings. I said you ain’t seen art like the one we’re going to see. Kai, the more painful part was that she used her own mouth to say “Come oh, this boy, when are you taking me out for dinner sef?” That kain thing! You know, with a teasing, affectionate tone. You needed to have seen the mouth wey ask me this thing. Ol’ girl was mad pretty, with a perfect rotundity of hip and breast that made the knees quake. Because na she don dey post me since, you can imagine my delight when the request eventually came. Joyed that the gods of my ancestors were well and truly in my favour for the nwa to give me a chance, I had no idea witches and wizards that pervaded the Naija atmosphere won’t let me be great. Instead to just find better place carry the a...

*Building A lasting Relationship Is Hard Work* I have discovered that love doesn't guarantee the success of a relationship. Love cannot help you stick to one person all year round, and on the other hand, cheating isn't always a product of not loving your partner. In fact, loving someone doesn't guarantee not falling in love with someone else. Relationships work out mostly because of our head not our heart. It works out because of our emotional maturity, empathetic intelligence and self discipline because, time will come when you'll see more beautiful, handsome, romantic, intelligent, sexy, rich, curvy and God fearing people than the one you're in a relationship with. In those times, love will not help you; self control will help you, emotional intelligence will come to your rescue and commitment will keep you going. With those characteristics, no matter how you feel for someone else, the person you're committed to will rank first in your life. You think happ...

Nothing beats the sight of a Nigerian big man who thought he had played you, only to end up needing you few years down the line. Especially those money-miss-road specie who struggle to fit their belly inside their shirt so much, you wonder if the tailor didn’t take their measurement. So 2014. Big man wanted to take time out, for the first time in his life to go on holiday with his wife and 4 kids. Never travelled in his life. Passport more virgin than Virginia. Has no time for the paperwork, let alone those of his family. Big man raises the topic with my Dad, and says he wants Dubai. Shocked, my old boy asks how? For all your money, aren’t there better places for vacay? Big man says he hasn’t got a clue, and all these so called better places have too much paperwork involved. My son can assist you, old boy tells him, but you know, you gotta appreciate him well for the effort. Big man says OK, I want Eliza. Fine, I say. I’ll tidy up the forms, ensure your documents are right, ensur...

African passports: The powerful, the weak and the (now) barred from the US by Kate Douglas on '30 January 2017' On Friday US President Donald Trump signed an executive order that barred citizens of seven nations from accessing a US visa to enter the country, effective immediately. Among these are citizens of the African countries Libya, Sudan and Somalia. These countries already have some of Africa’s weakest passports, according to the Arton Capital’s Passport Index, which ranks national passports by how easily they can visit other territories – either without a visa or with a visa on arrival. There are only 37 countries globally a Libyan passport has easy access to, while there are 36 for Sudan and 30 for Somalia (which is ranked the country with the weakest passport in Africa and fifth-weakest in the world). I nterestingly these African countries are also some of the world’s least welcoming – meaning they don’t allow many others in visa-free or visa-on-arrival. Somalia i...

I was once told that using the grinding stone was the way to go. I have heard also that a wise African woman was not supposed to wash with a washing machine,... Our religion, our way of life spells hardship. If u are not living the hard life u are not a correct African.  Hence the controversy that still exist on vaginal birth via CS.  The screaming, yelling and mind blanking pain is still argued as the way to go even God said so. The blackmailing tool. I stumbled on a utility shop on instagram and like damn why did they born me for this country. Doing the conversion to Naria sef did nothing but dampen my spirit more.  Oyibo build things with enjoyment and ease in mind. They take ur passion,desires and create a home for u. Na house wey I no get light wey I go get light glowing center table. Enough of the day dreaming, until I can afford voice sensitive blenders,  make I go start to use to grinding stone😀 it's a long cooking process.

In Naija, when someone tells you “come let’s have lunch” tomorrow at Chicken Republic, you grin yourself to the location, with an empty pocket. Because, not only would you eat on a free, your host is likely to in fact pay your taxi back home, afraid you may have become too heavy to walk. In “the abroad”, when your oyibo friend tells you “come let’s have lunch” tomorrow at Nandos, you had better not start thinking the MENU belonged notoriously to you, and the bill, exclusively on him. No. You cannot do this. I almost learned the hard way on a wintry December noon at Covent Garden. This Norwegian friend had continued to moan that each time I came into town, I vamoosed without a word. How could I have known that his “come let’s have lunch” was on per-head billing? This thing they say about listening to the solemn inner voice. Works like fuck. I tucked 30 pounds in my pocket, money I scarcely had, as I’d only planned to see a Chelsea game the next day, and return to the idyllic Ab...

A nation that forgave a certain Muhammadu and made him president has no moral scaffold to stand on and condemn James Ibori who served a six-year prison term for his crime. If your grouse is that he sought to celebrate his freedom, then look around you properly, and see the other crooks you celebrate, from the Lagos strong man, to the Kaduna short man, down to your Daddys and GOs who emotionally manipulate the ignorant and vulnerable and part with their money; look to the very cabinet of the "incorruptible one" that presides over you at the very top, the one who cleared his grass-cutting staff from all wrong doing, look to your cowardice in the face of these staggering stealing, and talk about something else. In the face of soaring prices of food and commodity, in the face of a currency that is continuously turning to mush, in the face of near genocidal onslaughts in Kaduna, in the face of everything that should make a people squirm in horror, Ibori is the least of your proble...

I swear, nothing boils the blood like reading all these people backtracking on having supported or championed Buhari's emergence. I mean, cut the bullshit. Spare us. I beg you, n'ihu chukwu na mmadu, Please. Spare. Us. Instead of scribbling these articles taking it all back, why don't you lot just shut your face. Just be quiet. You make it so hard to endure the hardship. You make it so hard to grieve for a future that seems bleak and stolen. You were convinced he was the shit; fine. You didn't have an alternative; fine, we hear you. Leave it there. Don't take it back. Don't say you regret it. You sound foolish. You are annoying. Go away.

#EXCERPT "Yes I can find someone that looks better, cooks better, freakier, more submissive, with a few more curves, a few less blemishes, etc. But I don't want someone else. I want YOU. I have scars that no one else understands, but you do. We have memories worth holding on to that we can use to teach our kids how to love their wives and husbands. I don't want to keep starting over with a new face every time something goes wrong or the grass seems a little greener on the other side. I want OUR grass, OUR lawn, one house, and two cars...for US. I don't care what else is out there. Our relationship can only be affected by what goes on between us. What's outside is irrelevant. I know, we're both flawed as hell. But instead of always moving on when things get rough, how about you grab my a little tighter, and we make this thing work. We deserve the effort. Our love is worth it.." -A Cheating Man's Heart Novel Series -> https://goo.gl/jk8Fow

I discovered too late that I was too close to the car ahead of me.  the driver seemed to be in close relation with the officer on the road.  with a hiss,  I made to turn away from the obstruction on the road.  will I call it wrong or right timing because as I made it almost out,  the car ahead pulled away then I heard the officer shout reaching for his gun.  'madam,  if you move I will shoot you'. with adrenaline surging,  I struggled to have a smile up hiding my fear and disgust.  he entered my vehicle.  I reached out for my car particulars assuming that's what he is in for. he looked round and then said ' madam find me something we Don dey for sun since'.  I scowled within and reached for my purse.  1000 naria was out,  I wanted him gone.  he held unto my hand and said ' for this act,  God bless u.  if I had liver,  I would have shoved him off with a spit but I am supposed to be a lady and he is th...

On a quiet night like this, an oyibo girl (white girl)  wooed me, only to threaten me with police the next day. How could I have known it was all a game. Ol’ girl was fine ass hell, and had an ass you couldn’t look at with your mouth closed. In my mind I was like: where and how did that come about?  Maka chukwu, still staring, I asked: how did all that come to plant itself so notoriously on the rear end of nwa bekee. You are so cute, I love your attire. She told me. He’s a stylish man isn’t he, she would tell her friend. Nwa bekee literally stopped me in my tracks. Pulled up a phone and asked her friend to take a photo. Not to thump my chest though, I was dope as fuck on that day. I had just landed Wales three weeks ago. I had this wicked Gucci shoes on, a River Island pant, a blue and white stripe shirt, and some sick wool jacket I bought off E-bay. I bounced majestically on the promenade, beneath the yellow evening lights overlooking the Cardigan Bay. Take my number,...

Every time I want to advise rich people, I imagine them saying: "How come you aren't rich with all these your brilliant ideas?" In other words, when one tells me: "Mitty, I want to start a bottled-water company", I'm like "Cool story bro. That should be nice", when in fact I feel like saying "Chineke ekwela ihe ojo! Bottled-water company, in a recession, when former bottled-water drinkers are migrating to sachet water?" Don't blame me. I know how the game goes. When these guys talk plans, its mostly to just keep a discussion going, nothing more. Na too much advice dey bring insult. Nobi me dem go use shine. MO

There is always that strong shit, dense and defiant, that refuses to flush no matter how many times you twist the water knob. It just sits there, staring at you like “oga you no serious o!” You squeeze the knob again for one more flush, hoping the many cycles of water must have weakened it, but whossai. And then you pick up a full bucket of water, and with all the anger in you, ram it down the toilet bowl, and then it swims, dancing from side to side, while you pray: biko kwa, don’t make me fetch another bucket. And then it circles and disappears. What's funnier is that you let out a huge sigh of relief afterwards.  Can you imagine? A sigh of relief; that the shit is finally gone.  MO .

Uncomfortable truths travel with a great deal of difficulty. People have spent time rationalising why Tuface pulled out of the planned protest. With many suggesting they weren't disappointed. But the situation is what it is. I urge everyone to read up on Charles Novia and Temidayo Ahamnisi's take on this subject today and understand the implications of what Tuface's actions mean for his legacy. I was among the growing number of netizens who defended Tuface's involvement in the protest and held my breathe for what seemed an epochal moment. Alas, he pulled his head away from the plough. Predictably, much of the reaction to Tuface's action was one of sentiments, a la "if you're vexed, you go and protest yourself", "he has achieved a lot by merely popularising the protest", "leave Tuface alone, he was threatened", or "he's legacy is still intact". Such emotionalised responses mostly served to mask the fact that i...

ON RESPECT AND OUR FAULTY VALUE SYSTEM. This post is inspired by something I witnessed yesterday. I'm at this neighborhood barbershop, waiting for my turn. Seated on my left is this woman with an adorable daughter, not older than 7. On the woman's left is this burly fellow, chewing—rather loudly—on whatever had the unfortunate happenstance of ending up in his mouth. Man Utd's match is on TV, but no one seems interested in it. Everyone seems lost in the reticence of their minds Then it happens. A plastic wrapper—that transparent garb, branded with the colors of capitalism and western consumerism, that always betrays its content (the content now lost in the dreary chasm that is Mr. Burlyman's digestive tract)—slips from his fingers and lands on the floor.  The young girl picks it up and, probably reiterating what she was taught in school, hands it to Burlyman and says "unku, it is not good to litter the flo—" She barely finishes when her mom's...

"IF I HEAR PIM!" We all, at one point in our lives, must have experienced this (directly or otherwise) while growing up: you notice an older relative doing something your prepubescent mind informs you—based on what moral codes you were brought up with—is wrong. You cannot understand why he's engaged in something so wrong, and so brazenly at that. You approach him, for no other reason than to correct him. "brother, but this thing you're doing is not good" His palm, in a flash, connects with the back of your head, so fast that you're temporarily discombobulated—the sound produced by the slap resembling a sonic boom that you would be forgiven for thinking his hand, in reaching for the back of your head, broke the sound barrier. Tears well up in your eyes. You start to protest, fighting back the uncontrollable tears. Your protest is met with four words. Four words we're all so familiar with: If I hear pim! There's this premise—one inculca...

A national emergency should be declared on the current state of akara in this country. That shit too damn white on the inside these days. Too damn white it's like they put nothing in the beans but salt. Where's the spice and seasoning that gave akara it's naija swag? Where's that light-red colour you saw inside when you broke a hot one in two and watched the vapour rise before you like incense? Akara that used to be so rich, when you squeezed two in the centre of a bread loaf and took a bite, your eyes close on their own. Instead of looking to produce pencils by 2020, the goal should be how to rescue the almighty akara from its current deformation.

Dear custodian of African Culture, Have you risen with the sun this morning? If so, then doxology. You seem to be adept in stringing together a list of ideologies/actions that are totally alien to the African culture. For that I must salute your versatility. However, for posterity sake, kindly—and I hope it's not too much to ask—produce a comprehensive list, with diagrams and trend charts if possible, of everything African and exclusively African. I'm pretty sure this would aid your followers in identifying what ideologies to subscribe to—being an inherent part of their culture (keep in mind, while you do this, the sheer number of different cultures in Africa, some openly conflicting wi th others) and what to eschew. I would be most grateful if you accede to this request expediently. Warm regards. Yours truly, A confused African.