Pinky's Diaries

This isn't one of humourous stories about jumping in and out of buses, childhood and work life. This is where I tell my Creator that I'm in awe of His love and blessings. On the first of January 2013, while others were excited about the new year, I was more scared about how work life would be. There was no mum or siblings to run to if things get crazy. This was just me and I was scared to my bloody intestines. My wardrobe was beyond empty and my bank account more empty and to my worries, Rejoice, a good friend and sister laughed. "Girl, keep the old ones clean and ironed. More will come". I did part of what she asked cos I really do hate ironing! She wasn't lying after all. Family is all I've got. They make me laugh, cry, upset! They laugh at me, make me angry...love me. I've got lovely memories with you which can never be wiped off even in death. Sometimes, I sit alone and laugh at moments we've shared and people wonder if ive gone crazy. Thro

Christmas is here and I can't help but remember how it used to be. For different people, the season has different meanings; for us, it meant hard labour mixed with fun and stupidity. School normally closed on the 16th for the Christmas holidays. While our mates talked at length about how they would either travel out of the country or watch movies till thy kingdom come, all we thought about was how we would process palm fruits and kemel before we 'may' consider travelling to the village. It was never an easy task. For almost a week, we would bend over heaps and heaps of palm kernel separating them from their shells. Little wonder we didn't develop hunchbacks but we Kept our eyes on the price - Christmas day! On the 24th,we set out for the village in dad's Volkswagen beetle. Mum sat at the back seat with my 5 siblings and my uncle. Dad drove while l sat on a kitchen stool between him and the Christmas goat, bag of rice and our belongings packed in different color

Piak! Shiap! Piak! Goron!Don't be scared! I'm not mad yet! How else would you want me to explain mum's 'konks' (knocks) and slaps! I would have used 'whoop' but then you would think its just one weightless chiding followed by "..go seat in your naughty chair" or "You are grounded for a day! Go to your room!" My mama no get that kine time! The only ground you get to see is when she's rubbing your nose in it. See eh...if you ever thought that seeing stars after a slap was just some sort of cartoon exaggeration then you must be mistaken! Mum's slap will make you see a galaxy. There was no "..I'm sorry mum. I won't do it again." Hahahahaha! Imagine! She's stammering with anger, holding on to your trousers or whatever you are wearing and hitting your back side with so much vehemence over some silly thing you did...all you will be shouting is E kpo m nooo (I'm finished)...a nwu m noooo (I'm dead) ...ma

Just came back from evening mass as hungry as ever and there was definitely no food in the house! Its no news that I don't cook! After waking up by 4am and getting home by 11pm after straight 3hrs of traffic every day of the week (except Sunday), cooking on a Sunday night is the least of my worries. I don't want to hear it! I'm talking to you. Yes, you! Didn't you just ask if its this story I'll tell my husband when he asks of food? I'm not married yet so when I get to that bridge, I'll cross it...or not. But dear husband, you should better be in Enugu or Ghana cos I aint living in Lagos with you unless...unless...un...there's no unless.  Ehen, the koko of the matter is that I was hungry and desperately needed to fill in my tommy! I ransacked the fridge looking for what I didn't keep and as God may have it, there food was! Wrapped in beautiful foil. Though not mine, hunger is not a 'respecter' of cake ownership besides the cake has

*clearsthroat* Ladies, l love weddings a lot. Please endeavor to invite me to yours after this. Do not call me a bad friend cos you know I'm just a bloody story teller. Ehen, now that i have concluded my plea, I guess I can start my wedding story. School days were fun. People form all sorts of stuff. In normal schools, only the girls show off - try to be the first to wear the 'latest', 'capture' the best boyfriends and so on but in a school like UNEC, oh my UNEC, forming isn't restricted to just the girls. Guys too take part in that shit (forgive my language). It unnerves me when i see stuff like a guy saying duh and flipping his "hair" annoyingly when his head is bald. Some let rolls of condom fall off their back packs just to let us know they've got skills. Naive virgins! For four years plus three years strike, I saw things. On a certain sunny day, I forgot my umbrella and shades and was cursing myself for doing so when someone called out f

Truth be told, whatever was pursuing me this week had nothing to do with my village! I saw elements of Benin in the week's ish. My village people are not this strong. Hahahaha! (I haven't gone crazy yet, pals!) It is written that I should laugh in all things and situations! Alleluia somebody!  On Monday, I was exceptionally happy! That simply told me that the day would turn out badly but I couldn't stop being happy. By 4am, I was awake and agile. I did my 'daily' work outs that I haven't done in months and by 6am I was 'ready to rambo' in the best dress and jacket I have in my wardrobe! I was so excited that I wore heels 6inches high against the flats that I would have worn ordinarily. I whistled to old Frank Sinatra tunes. In all, it was just a beautiful morning! My bestie, Chuka, was right on time to pick me from the house! Ughhh! He looked so cute and sexier that morning! I guess I'm not the only one in high spirits. I gave him my customary

Let me tell a story before I continue. Back then in school, a year before I graduated, the Student Union Government held her elections. I don't care about such things. All the candidates went round the school campaigning for votes and stuff. I took interest in one who was contesting for the SUG president when he walked into my hostel room filled with girls without knocking. Nobody was naked or half dressed but I thought knocking would be the right thing to do. I asked him and his 'otimkpus' to step out and knock before entering the room. They did. I thought it would also be nice to listen to him but he started speaking through his nose (Just imagine a man who spent all his life in a village speaking through his nose) I plugged my ears to block out the ear drum tearing sound and continued with a movie I was watching. I don't care who wins anyway. After some minutes, someone tapped me and I turned. It was Mr. Presido, "You are a rude bitch", he said "If I

Let me warn you before you start reading. This is going to be a really short story! It was just a year ago that NYSC sent me to Bauchi. In my little Nsukka town I wondered where that is. Abuja is far. Jos is farther and I heard that Bauchi is farther than Jos. I sat at Lagos love garden in UNEC for almost an hour starring at my call up letter wondering what to do. Mum called and I told her in the tiniest of voices. My hands shook in fear. Mum being mum reassured me. "Its on earth right? Human beings live there. I'm sure other people were posted there too". Her exact words. With her strength, I resolved to face my fears. I asked around for anyone else joining me in Bauchi. No one. I must be really special, I thought. I didn't know anyone in Bauchi. Camp opens on Monday and the noble institution that I studied in gave out call up letters Saturday night. I got home early Sunday morning, packed my things and mum rushed me to the park. Mine was not