Titleless

First off, I wanna say thanks to everyone that has read and commented on my previous posts. Thanks guys! In the short while that I've started blogging, I have come to the realization that reading and commenting on blogs is much more fun than writting. Some are born writters, some are born readers. I guess I belong to the latter. I wonder why it doesn't reflect on my grades sha (maybe it's because I read evrything except my school books). These days, I have been feeling too lazy to write and I dunno why but I'm gonna try. I've spent the last few weeks thinking of what I wanna do careerwise and relationship-wise and life-wise generally and I still dont have a clue (sad I know). I would like to be an on-air personality, I love radio, I always have my radio around me when I'm doing the dishes, bathing, reading, sleeping, basically everywhere. One of the things I miss most about Lagos are the radio stations. I like the job coz I get to dress the way I like coz the listeners can't see me, I get to hear all the music I want to, I get to talk (God knows how much I love talking), plus my friends also think that it is a good idea and the job will suit me, I'm the girl you come to when you buy a new phone and want to set the radio stations, but I'm not sure If it's the idea I like or the job itself plus my parents (mum especially) will object to that, she doesn't think its a 'proper' Job that I can do for long time, she thinks it should be a hobby. I'm thinking of getting my voice on CD's and going for auditions, I'll confront the parents when the time is right. I'm tired of the whole growing-up business, starting a career, a new life, getting married and the general challenges (I'm feeling the pressure already). NYSC is not even helping matters, I cant wait for this service to end, I feel like my life has been put on hold. Also, I can't seem to move on from 'Smiley', I wanna open up to someone else, but I think it's not yet time and I'm not yet ready. On a sad note, One of my besties 'AK' lost her mom. I pray God gives her and her family grace, strength and fortitude to bear the loss.

On being plus size....

Being plus size is not new to me. I don't remember a time in all of my 22 years that i was ever "lepa". I've kinda gotten immune to all the taunts and jests. If I am walking down the road and I hear sumone shout "orobo", I instinctively turn around to see if it's me they are calling. High school was the worst hit; I could not eat or drink anything in peace, true I was growing in astronomical proportions, but no be me now, na God! People would always give me grief and attack me saying stuff like: 'no wonder you are fat' or 'that is not good for you'. Come to think of it, I guess this is why till date, I rarely eat in public and I am totally uncomfortable when I do. I earned the name "ofili ganga", she was a character in Naija movies (yoruba ones). This woman is huge, monstrous, enormous (you get my drift). So u can imagine the horror when a boy in my class called me that name, I was mortified, I told myself "lai lai, this kind of nickname cannot stick". In panic, I went to the principal's office to lodge a complaint thinking he was going to call them to order but Alas! The next time the principal came to our class, he started off by asking 'where is ofili?' That was how I bore the name throughout high school and beyond. Honestly, I used to be bothered but not anymore. I believe that it's the quality of life we live that matters. Imagine when I die and on my headstone, they write "Here lies a skinny shapely girl, her curves will be greatly missed" WTH? I am not the poster child for obesity but I think there is a reason we were not all created the same. Imagine If everyone was tall, darkskinned and had a slim build, Imagine some 6 billion of us the same way, that would be boring. Variety is indeed the spice of life. So I am here for your entertainment. I remember all my attempts at losing weight; dieting, starving and going to the gym. At first, I would go to the gym and work out religiously but days into the programm, I tire. Instead I now started watching the other people and would say to myself "I'm not as fat as these people jor, abeg free me". I remember this slim chic at the gym then, I used to wonder what she was doing there, going up and down with her skinny self and making people like me feel bad, even when I learnt that she had a heart condition that required her to exercise, I still used to beef the poor girl o! She would try to talk to me and I'll be giving her attitude. Looking back now, I just laugh and ask myself: na she send me? I also had this boyfriend then who used to scare me as in dude literally put the fear of God in me. He would quote statistics on how most women who had complications during childbirth were plus size, how I was prone to heart conditions, diabetes, bla bla bla. Well, suffice to say, that was the beginning of the end of the relationship. It took me a while but I have accepted myself for who I am and that is Big, Bold & Beautiful. If you minus the hassles it takes to get clothes that fit, the times when bus conductors will ask me to pay for double seats and okada men will be glancing furtively between me and their tires and finally zoom off..... (ok, the last 2 examples have never happened but I always have nighmares about them), being plus size is really no biggie.

Letting go....

I visited him before I left, gave him the letter I wrote him. I was hesitant at first but later decided to just get it over with. 'Him' in this case is Smiley, this is coz his smile will take your breath away (at least mine) We talked, we agreed, there was no way we could start a relationship with the distance between us. I am not a fan of (Long Distance Relationships (LDR) and he in his own words says "LDR's are a no-no for me". So we decided to let go cos it was the logical, adult, responsible, smart, right (I've run out of oyinbo) thing to do. I have then realized that there are sometimes when the right thing feels so wrong, I started having second thoughts: what if I have passed up my one chance at true love and happiness? Isn't it said that when you want something, you go for it and damn all consequences and all obstacles become surmountable? Guess we didn't want it bad enough, but then again, who would blame us? We had barely known each other for 5 months and seen ourselves a total of 3 times. Yeah we've got great chemistry (physics sef) over the phone, we totally jelled, have similar thoughts, ideas and attitude towards issues/life, Smiley makes me laugh, I feel safe and I like the person I am around him but then again, what does that count for in the grand scheme of things? I mean, I've never even kissed the guy, I don't know his genotype (which I think is very important by the way coz I am not gonna start a relationship that is genetically doomed) and a lot more stuff I am yet to discover. A LDR in our case would have been silly and childish of us, so we are doing the adult thing (even that doesn't make it hurt less). It's been over a month since I last saw him and communication between us has been strained, we're both guilty of not making effort. I'm trying to 'deal' by limiting contact and I dunno what is excuse is. I'm drawing solace in a Yoruba adage that translates as: The water that one is destined to drink will surely not flow past him/her". It is also said that "if you Love/treasure something/someone, set them free; and if it/they are yours, it/they will surely come back to you". So I have let go, I have set free and I am waiting......

My Camp Experience

'BAYELSA' was boldly written on my call-up letter. I have never imagined myself in this part of the country before now but with total resignation to the will of God in collaboration with NYSC, I packed my bags. I arrived at kolokuma opokuma (tongue twister abi?) L.G.A where the orientation camp is located. Registration was the beginning of a revelation for me, I realized that you pay for everything; If you wanted to staple a passport to a form, you pay. Simple, mundane things had a price tag attached. Registration ended with collection of kit and nothing fit (well, wasn't really suprised). I then proceeded to make ammendments and ended up paying an exhorbitant amount for patchwork that was badly done. Camp life was crazy, for me, it was a mix of everything; fun, sadness, happiness, suffering. Everything sorta balanced out and merged into a great experience. From the overcrowded room, to waking up for headcount in the middle of the night, to substandard kit materials. The weather was another story entirely, it rained every single day and we had to rely on body heat to dry our whites. Sometimes, we wore it damp like that and it will dry on our bodies. There were completly irrelevant (in my own opinion) lectures and there were limited/no chairs to sit on and you either sit on the floor or stand, sometimes for up to 3-4 hours. The food nko? They served weevil-infested beans almost everyday, eba like it was running out of fashion and occasional rice with watery soup and miniscule pieces of meat. The ridiculous morning race disguised as jogging. They wanted to kill me ni? Me ke? I started avoiding it o! The military guys took pleasure in harrasing and victimizing us, they would call us names like otondo, akamu, they would shout at us; "ajuwaya! double-up" they would go to the clinic and bring out those who were feigning illness, make them chant "i no well" while marching round the camp. They would also barge into the female hostels, even enter the bathrooms while girls were bathing shouting "fall out, fall out". The people were another case entirely; the good, bad and ugly. You hear some graduates blast grammer and you ask yourself: who let this cat outta school? And then i stylishly ask: abeg, which school did you graduate from sef? Then again, I met really hilarious, crazy (in a good way), cool girls. These people made camp fun. Sometimes we would stay awake till 2-3 a.m gisting and laughing. Then the guys; well, what can i say? Guys will always be guys and it has been drummed into my head by family and friends that guys (most of 'em) in camp are looking out for a fling and as per the sharp girl that I am, I didn't trip for their lines but I had a good laugh at their attempts. There were a few cute ones though. Passing out day was one of the happiest days in my life. Though I had fun, it is one of those experiences you never want to repeat. I can't wait to start my assignment as a teacher, I hope it will be fun.

Finally

Yeah! I did it. I guess i'm officially a member of d blog community. I've fiddled with this idea for years. This day goes down in history (yes, I like to feel important). On this rainy sunday afternoon, in the city of Portharcourt, a blog is born. She will be named sumptuous and she shall write about anything and everything she can think of. So about me (I think we need to get this out of the way) I am me, a 20 something year old Nigerian girl, currently serving her fatherland. I love writting, it's a means of escape, it's theraphy for me. That's it for now. I'm looking foward to this blogging experience.