SENSE AND SENSIBILITY.

I want to talk about a disturbing trend….

This post was originally intended to be a continuation of a series which up until now has only a part 1 and a part 2. In the light of a few realisations, however, I changed my mind.

Firstly, it is a lengthy enough topic to be a series in its own right. Secondly, although it initially appears that it is directed at the menfolk (same as the other two), I do acknowledge that both genders are guilty of perpetrating this evil.

What is this, you ask? Well, it involves the issue of social etiquette- or the lack thereof. While we were growing up, there seemed to be some tenets of social etiquette that were taken for granted; or maybe I just lived a sheltered life, because nowadays just about anything goes.

Let me give an example:

SCENARIO 1: Lady A and Guy B meet at a random social gathering. They have a conversation at the end of which they exchange numbers. Guy B decides to chat up Lady A on Whatsapp a few days later:

OR

Really, nigga?!

Dear country people, except someone introduced themselves to you as ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’, or gave you the permission to address them as such, this behaviour is just plain mannerlessness. Random terms of endearment such as these are the sole preserve of family and friends i.e human beings with whom one is in an actual relationship. You do know that in certain climes that could count as sexual harassment, abi? You didn’t? Well, you are welcome.

SCENARIO 2: Lady A rolls her eyes at this ‘boundary overstepping’ but decides to let it slide.

Wawu! Wawu!! Wawu!!!

Again, o ye uncultured creatures of the Seven Rivers, boundaries!

Unsolicited personal advice, admonitions, and all such things are the reserve of family and friends. And until you earn either of such titles, you can never go wrong with respecting yourself and minding your business. A simple “oh, okay,” or even “lol” whilst moving on to the next item on the agenda wee not kill you, brother holy nweje.

If the auntie should say let her answer you the way comments like yours deserve to be answered now, they will say her own is too much, dazz why she never see husband.

SCENARIO 3: This one is a personal favourite.

Lady A, in the spirit of Christianity and forebearance bites her tongue and steers the conversation to other matters and then halfway through:

Haba mallam!😨 Kadan kadan fa.

Do you want to wounjure yasef?

And the major proponents of this particular malady are more often than not:

a. The ones that are looking for where to chop and clean mouth and think it is by Whatsapp message. You need to go and re-cook that your jazz. E never done.

b. The ones that have given themselves target to marry by December and wake up one October morning and want to turn into Solomon Grundy.

Ogbeni camdan, take number and join queue.

My recommended answer to such a somebody is to ask them to think of their closest friend and then tell you if at any point in their life, they called him up and admonished him to be their close friend before it happened. Nope?……Didn’t think so.

And while the above are not actual conversations, I have had them in so many variations that I have lost count.

End of Part 1……..watch out for part 2.

To God be the glory!

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IN THE SPIRIT OF THE IMPENDING NEW YEAR.

In the light of recent events, it has become imperative to put up this disclaimer:

If in 2018, you plan to ‘find wife’ for any of the following reasons:

#1 you are tired of eating “iya Basirat”.

#2 you visited me and decided you wanted your house as tidy as mine.

#3 you want a fine geh that wee born twins for you.

#4 you want to marry a “profeshiona”.

#5 your mother is getting old and is disturbing you for grandchildren.

#6 you are tired of all this oppression -you too want to be hosting Christmas and Easter dinners at your house.

#7 you want someone who will look after your children while you go and ‘hang with the boys’, and return home at 2am daily.

#8 housework haff tire you.

#9 that 5k a month that you pay Uduak for doing your laundry can cook two-and-a-half pots of soup o.

#10 you need a son who will inherit your two shops at Alaba and the one at Aspanda.

My brethren, if your spouse-hunt is motivated by any of the above, biko kindly jump and pass when you reach my ‘dormot’. This is a new year we are about to enter and walahi I am all ‘Jesus-ed’ out. I will go HAM on any statements that do not portray sense and the fear of God. Okwa maka ndi ‘had I known.’

If people that fear God haff finish in this country, las las we pack to Australia. Make I kuku born half caste sef, at the end of the day.

And finally, lest I forget: if you also think getting married is your way of giving back to society by helping a hapless spinster out of singlehood and misery, please and please respect your ancestry by remaining in your village this Christmas, biko. We are talking it small small now o. Eh hehn.

FREE TO BE A SLAVE.

You see my problem with all this tithing and non-tithing debate……

Who forced you?!! If you are not convinced about paying tithes or the blessings of sowing and reaping; if you have been tithing out of coercion or fear of damnation; if you sincerely believe the tithe you have been paying in church could have helped your life better, then I have news for you:

You have been wasting your money.

Kuku keep it and buy extra credit or a new pair of shoes. The Bible says God loves a cheerful giver, so if you ever find yourself giving grudgingly there is no need, just pocket your money. The Bible also says anything not done in faith is sin, so if you are not tithing in faith it is kuku sin so you might as well pick a struggle that is less likely to give you a stomach ulcer.

If however you are not “dashing all your money to one greedy pastor”, may I now please ask you what konsai you in this matter? Why on earth are you drinking paracetamol for headache that is not worrying you? Is it your dash? Or your money? Abi your greedy?

If and when we come to seek your counsel- or come to beg you for school fees/house rent- feel free to lecture us on our financial “stupidity”. But until then, how about you put your mouth where your money actually is.

You live by hustle, we get. You have worked your fingers off for every single thing you’ve ever had. We totally understand. But you see, some of us haven’t. We couldn’t even.

We’d much rather live off grace. That’s the only life we’ve ever known.

THE OLDER THE BERRY, THE SWEERA THE JUICE!

I have always had a thing for older men.

People tend to see a younger woman-older man couple and think, “she’s with him for his money,” or “daddy issues,” but I beg to differ. I do acknowledge that this is sometimes the case, but more often than we may realise, it is not. Of course if said man is married then that is nothing more than a union of prostitutes, but there are legitimately single older men- whether divorced, widowed or just never been married.

I was saying to someone today that I honestly would not mind a 15-year (or so) age difference and their eyeballs almost popped out. But really. And my reason is actually very simple: having been on both sides of the divide I can say, without fear of contradiction, that older men are way more mature than their fine-boy-no-pimples counterparts.

Let us begin with the toasting process:

If an older man is interested in you, you are unlikely to ever be in doubt of his intentions. Not only would he make it very clear that he wanted you, he would also let you know exactly what for. So if he’s just looking for a good time,he doesn’t mince words or give mixed signals; ditto for if he’s looking for commitment. I love the way they are so direct and don’t have the time for ‘wasan yara.’

Of course it does stand to reason because there’s a certain quiet confidence that comes with age and one loses a lot of the hang-ups they acquired in adolescence.

IS IT HOT IN HERE??

Then there’s the fact that discussions between the both of you rarely morph into heated arguments. No raising of voices and attempting to ‘win by intimidation.’ These men know that you do not raise your voice, you improve your argument. Simpo!

I find it uncomfortable being with people who cannot argue quietly. Maybe it’s all the shouting they shouted at us while we were growing up, but I have developed a certain abhorrence for loud voices.

Then they have stories! When someone has been around for a while, there’s usually almost nothing that hasn’t happened to them, so them dey always get gist. You get to hear things that leave you in awe and wonder. And the people they’ve met, known, lunched with…… people you’ve probably only read about or seen on tv. I can’t lie, those things unconsciously elevate him a little higher in your eyes.

And last but by no means the least, men in their 40s and 50s still belong to the generation that believed in spoiling their women. So if you happen to be with them, they pull out all the stops: both the little and grand gestures. Things like coming to take you out for lunch everyday during your lunch-break, even if they have to drive from across town, are not uncommon. Surprise tickets to somewhere or the other just because you had a rough week. Sending cake to your office for no reason at all. Driving from Ikeja to Surulere to pick you up from work every evening because ‘house-job is sucking your blood, ‘ the list does not end.

Those ones understand romance. Not this instagram generation(ndi “have you eaten?”)that awon feminists have now even helped to justify their ‘romantic laziness’ in the name of gender equality. Until you push a baby out of your delicates, sweerat ain’t nothing equal about us mbok. To each his own lane. But that is a post for another day.

Of course there are men who were alive before Obasanjo became Head of State and are still stuck in the oral phase. Those ones are easy to spot sha once they open mouth; and they are the ones you are likely to find joining children that ASUU kept at home, to abuse other people on instagram.

There are of course, cons to this older man business, chief of which is that by the time one is getting to the height of their active stage as per ‘oza room’ tins, uncle would have already plateaued and maybe even begun his descent down the slope. So there may be some frustration in the years to come.

But again, that is gist for another jobless day.

GOD MADE DIRT; DIRT WON’T HURT.

Apparently, as a Nigerian geh, bathing twice a day is non-negotiable. It had never occurred to me as such, as nightly rituals mostly consisted of feet-and-face-washing (as I have near-dormant sweat glands, I’m certain I smell exactly the same at the end of the day as I did at the beginning; whether or not you agree is for ya pocket). Proper baths only occurred twice a day in special circumstances.

Recently, however, with the looming threat of an end to singlehood, I began to have a rethink. Parraps these unwritten rules existed for a reason……

Then I spent one or two nights in the house of a friend who has been in the matrimony business for nearly 3 decades and she echoed my sentiments. It came in the form of advice against my scant nocturnal rituals. Apparently, it was a habit I had to master before I made that long trek down the aisle.

Sigh.

I then decided to seek the opinion of one of my married contemporaries. She could not be bothered with including an extra shower visit a day to her already long list of responsibilities, except of course, when events looked like they were about to take an interesting turn. My, very legitimate, concern about this was that it put paid to any thoughts of spontaneity- and what is life if not for spontaneous moments.

So, bottom line: if you are female and Nigerian, twice-daily bathing is an important prerequisite for conjugal bliss.

Here is where things got interesting: of all (read both) the females interviewed, none (neither) could remember their menfolk ever returning the favour. In essence, it was alright for the men to climb into bed, right next to the squeaky body they had taken time and strength to bathe just for him, reeking of sweat and regret.

Never!

If I am going all Snow White and the Holy Temple, better don’t appear smelling like Iron Bracket or the deal is off! It actually does not take much to get a woman turned off by the way so………

The ‘I Think I Might Be a Man’ series….1

You know how they say women are multi-taskers  and men are one-track minded?

Well, I’ve been a woman for over 3 decades and I still haven’t got the hang of this multi-task thing. I face one project and face it squarely;  when it’s done I move on to the next one. 

It has even caused problems between myself and some people with their unrealistic expectations. A Jack of all trades is…… (fill in the blanks).

#IthinkImightbeaman.

RED MEANS STOP; GREEN MEANS GO, FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE!

A few millennia ago, I meant to start a series specifically targeted at educating our young men on woman matter. My altruism was however, misunderstood (pause to don martyr cape), and I was accused of coming down on the menfolk too hard and sounding like a joyless headmaster.

Sooo today I shall go very easy and concentrate on giving them the expo to decoding women’s sign language.

A few days ago, a friend and I were brainstorming {read, gossiping} and we came to the painful but necessary conclusion that men are colour blind. And I’m not just talking about the fact that indigo, violet and magenta are all purple to them.

{I cringe just thinking about this obvious heresy}.

We realised that most young’ins cannot tell the difference between red, amber and green. You can be morphing into the Incredible Hulk from all the green light you are shining and uncle will just be seeing amber. More than a few of us, I’m sure, have had an experience where we were practically throwing ourselves at a brother and 5 years and no show later, found ourselves having this conversation:

Uncle: shebi you know I used to like you that year.

You {incredulously}: you don’t say!

Uncle: I do indeed.

You: and you didn’t say anything because…..?

Uncle: Ah! You that was busy playing hard to get.

Chineke napukwa ekwensu ike tinye na dustbin!

Hard to get ke? Something that somebody nearly crossed the line from availability to prostitution all in the name of green light.

So it is to avoid such stories that touch, that I have graciously come up with a list of signs and what they stand for. You can thank me when you are giving the vote of thanks at your wedding.

#1. She Lols or Hahahas at ALL your jokes. My dear, I don’t care if you are a cross between Basketmouth, AY, Kevin Hart and Trevor Noah. NOBODY is that funny! This is a green light. Get up and move!

#2. She ‘misses’ three calls from you in a row and does not return any of them. Except she is dead or her phone was stolen, what she is likely saying is “miss me with that attention bruh.” This is a red light. Stop and make a U-turn.

#3. You miraculously run into each other more frequently than usual. It is very unlikely to be only coincidence; fate is getting some help and if it isn’t from you then it’s from her. Did you ever casually mention that you go to such and such a place every weekend, and two weekends later she ‘happened’ to be in the area? If this happens more than once, you might want to take your foot off the brakes.

#4. You are always the one who initiates your conversations and you do practically all the talking. If you find yourself always saying, “it appears you are not the talking type,” that is more often than not a signal to abort mission. I repeat, abort mission. Every woman is the ‘talking type’ believe me. It just depends on who she is talking to.

These are just a few of the many {inexhaustible} signs, but if you are getting mixed signals and unsure of how to proceed, do contact me privately. It would be an honour and a pleasure to help you out of your quagmire and set you well on your way to the altar. Because as one of the newly inaugurated members of the Busybody Aunty Club, I have nothing else I’m using my life to do.

Sooooo…..with these few points of mine I hope I have you convinced that red means hit the brakes and green means step on it!

Thank you.

SPEED KILLS; TIMING IS EVERYTHING. 

It would appear that a lot of the young (and not so young ) men we have these days are….how do I put this delicately…….socially bereft. So whenever I encounter a young man who does something wildly inappropriate, I am tempted to pull him aside and tell him how counterproductive his actions really are, you know,  ‘in case of next time.’ Since I am unable to do this in real time, however, I’ ve decided that whenever inspiration hits I will take it upon myself to update our clueless young ‘uns one blog post at a time.

Inspiration number one inspired the title of today’s post. 😀

Dear Sir, 

I know you can’t help yourself. You ‘loved’ her the instant you clapped eyes on her. Her beauty/charm/figure has confused you all the way to your village market square and back. BUT!!! Please there’s a 10 to 1 chance that if you said this at your first meeting/chat you would be saying the wrong thing. You can never go wrong by pretending you just want to be friends at first (take a cue from Mr Wellington the sharp guy, that’s how you snag a hot chick).

Coming on strong is just a bad idea. It may work/have worked for some people,  but they are very likely the exception not the rule. You want her comfortable around you not retching whenever you open your mouth -or hit the send button. 

Trust me, there will be ample time and opportunity to display your lack of self control if and when she ‘agrees for you. ‘ In the meantime,  try and not disgrace your lineage by acting like a thirsty somebody. 

In the same vein, if the sister is playing it cool and showing that her people brought her up well, do not begin to whine about how she’s not reciprocating your thirstiness (again take a cue from social media’s latest couple). If you’ve been panting around like a dog in heat, that would be your cue to tone things down a notch as well.

Let me explain why this is good advice.  Getting to know her first before showing yourself would help you know what she likes and doesn’t like and how to propel yourself into her heart and plant yourself there. Most girls, once they got comfortable with you, would happily give you all the expo sef, so all you’d really need do would be wait patiently. 

Patience is key my brethren.  Patience and more patience. Speed kills.

Sincerely, 

Auntie Nina.

APRIL IS TURNING OUT NOT QUITE AS I HOPED 

I have been feeling a little disconnected lately. 

At times I cannot help feeling that GOd has a little too much faith in me. There are some tests I not only see myself failing, but woefully for that matter. Yet somehow God thinks it’s a good idea to let me take them? How could I possibly pass? Or is the lesson in the failing? 

You know how we always say things like “if God is all I have then I have all I need?” Ever feel like we mean that figuratively, not literally.? I know how I often wish the Holy Spirit could just become flesh for a few hours and I could call her phone or chat her up on Whatsapp and lament about everything that’s been tormenting me. And she would say how she feels me and how only yesterday so and so happened and nearly ruined her entire week.  Or something like that. 

I don’t know but…..yeah so I’m basically wishing I was 21 again. The thing about this aging is that less and less people have your time like that anymore. Not that they don’t care, just that they have bigger issues like our current GDP and how their children might have to wear last year’s outfit this Christmas. So, bigger issues than the very annoying message somebody sent you two days ago or how you fell mugu for the ninety hundredth time. 

#sigh

So as I was saying, disconnected. Not that I don’t think He will hear me but I’m not even sure what to say; I seem to have been saying a lot of things  I don’t mean lately. Like yesterday, I lost something which I shouldn’t have had in the first place and after searching futilely for it, I broke down and promised God I’d return if I found it. The events of the next hour or so, proved that I’d had no intention (or will) of keeping that promise. So something else happened that forced my hand.

It is a disconnected relationship where actions have to speak because words can’t. 

#sighagain

I need sound advice.  Good, unbiased, very sensible advice. Very sensible.

Sensible Advice \sen(t)-se-bel ed’-vis\: advice from the mouth of a person who has sense in his brain.