Please vote for Temiville In the 2012 Nigerian Blog Awards!

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Hi people!

I was jejelly seating on my bed reading through my AG Abia v AG Federation case for Constitutional Law tomorrow when I stumbled across information that nominations have opened for the 2012 Nigerian Blog Awards. I just had to rush here and on Twitter to bat my eye lashes and ask, sorry, beg you guys to vote for me in as many categories as you deem fit.

The ones I’m eyeing are:

Best Writing Blog;

Best Faith based Blog;

Best Relationship Blog; and

Nigerian Blog of the Year.

Last year, I got nominated but didn’t win and I’m hoping I can win one of those this year.

Please vote for temiville.wordpress.com here: http://nigerianblogawards.com/register.php

I know I’ve been quiet in the last couple of months but let me refresh your memories on some of my stories over the months:

http://temiville.wordpress.com/2012/05/30/how-could-she/  with 877 comments

http://temiville.wordpress.com/2012/01/21/if-you-call-it-settling-then-yes-i-have-settled/.  With 398 comments

http://temiville.wordpress.com/2010/12/01/had-i-known/

http://temiville.wordpress.com/2011/07/21/things-are-not-the-same-as-before/

Ill stop here for now. Thanks guys and yes, blame my silence on my quest to become a Nigerian Lawyer!

God bless!

Temiville.xoxo

Please vote for temiville.wordpress.com here: http://nigerianblogawards.com/register.php

2 months in…

3 Comments

Like joke, like joke, I’ve been in Bwari for 2 months o and gradually, Bar Part 1 is drawing to a conclusion. I’m enjoying the experience but terribly looking forward to its end. I am alive and well, thank God. Armed with loads ofmovies, I’m hardlyever  bored. Anyway, this has to be my shortest post ever. I m dropping in to say hi and let you all know who to blame my silence here on: NLS. It takes up all my thinking :( but you can rest assured that I shall be back…soon.

Have a blessed weekend,

Temiville.xoxo 

It’s been 4 weeks already!

9 Comments

Ive spent a month here in Bwari. I remember my first hour. Stress-filled, I must say. I remember being told by a dear friend, O, to make sure I was well dressed. “well dressed” in NLS means white and black. And so, goody two shoes Temi showed up in her longest black skirt, a white Zara tank top, a Forever 21 blazer and black Primark flats. So you can imagine my shock when I got to Law School and found out I had been punkd. Yup, it was just about 5 of us dressed in our school uniform lol, there was guy all suited and booted so I felt a bit better.
I spent night 1 in a hotel because there were no rooms available. I was tempted to write Punch or even Linda Ikeji, but I gave myself brain and refrained from doing such. Majority are still staying off campus till the Bar 2s leave. I’m on of the lucky few to have gotten a room. I must confess, the rooms are lovely. They are like The Hilton for those of us who have served (NYSC). Lemme attempt a description: we are four in a two bed flat. Four of us share a toilet and bath. And we get someone (helper) to do the cleaning. It’s really comfortable ( in my opinion). However a good number of people just could not stay there and elected to stay off campus in some of the student accommodations available. There’s Elim, which is actually a hotel and goes for roughly 250k per month. There is redbricks Tamara, Global Village which are cheaper. Elim is bang in front of NLS though. .
Because I didn’t study Commercial Law, I have to take it as a remedial course. Interestingly, a number of students have not even registered. They are those who waited behind to graduate before starting. Personally, I think they’ll be fine. Classes are pretty easy to grasp if you try to study everyday, however short the time spent so doing.
I’ve met so many lovely people from all walks of life, I’ve heard all sorts of accents, from the British to the American to the merger of both. I’m trying to polish my French thanks to the Camerounians with us. I’ve met a number of MCLA readers too. Xoxo to the girl who asked her boyfriend to hunt me down and armed him with a photo of me. I totally appreciate you. God bless.
The hookups have started and it’s Week 4. What am I saying, in our 3 weeks in NYSC camp, some people went through 2 relationships.
The teachers are really good, excellent. Our male Criminal Law teacher is soooo good, he teaches like a preacher.
A downside to being here is the food. I used to laugh at those who complained but now, I get it after saving suffered a bad bout of food poisoning myself- the second case I know of. A friend found a praying mantis in her hollow rice sat week, another saw a stone( the soft crushable type) in her food. Lord help us. I was admitted and was put on drips and all. The clinic has really great staff and the whole episode cost me N350 including blood test!
It’s been so touching watching the present Bar 2s prepare for their finals. In church, that’s all the preacher speaks on. In CLASFON, same thing. There’s even a spiritual Call to Bar taking place n church for them. Looks like it ill be great. See flyer for details. I’m styling back during their exams. I can imagine how excited they’ll be on that last Friday!!! That will be me in a year, amen. I pray they all excel by His grace.
Another week is upon us. God protect us all and give us the strength to be worthy ambassadors of Christ anywhere we are. Amen.

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Hi guys, I’m in Law School

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Hello people,

How are you doing? I started Law School two weeks ago and it has been quite the experience. All sorts of drama I won’t go into right away. I’m enjoying my lectures and I’m really thankful to God for the opportunity.

I’m in Abuja and naturally, will be making air trips to and from Lagos. Say a prayer for your girl and other travelers. God be with us all.

I really want to rant and moan and complain but I won’t. I want to rant about the fact that we have no accommodation prepared for us and were asked tosort ourselves out till the present Bar 2 leave. I want to complain about the Fashion Police. I want to complain but I won’t. Ill let it slide and focus on the good stuff. I’ve met so many amazing people, so many smart people. I’ve joined a charity organization-Bwari Child and will also join the Sickle Cell Foundation. I’ve joined the Christian Lawyers Association and Fellowship of Nigeria (CLASFON). I have joined the 5.30 am Aerobics Class. I have started a mini study group. Generally, all is going well. Today, we have a comedy show and dinner on Saturday.

Im looking forward to the year ahead!

Temiville.xoxo

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Adekunbi Adebiyi, the Superstar…Sleep well

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Kunbi

AKB

I remember walking into your office that morning over two months ago. I had been in the same office with you for about 5 months and our interaction was nothing more than the occasional ‘Hi’ and general ‘Goodnight’ to yourself and your colleagues. But this day was different… You smiled at me. It was like I just noticed the glow in your eyes and that cute contagious smile for the first time. I walked up to you and said…”Good Morning, what’s your name?” You told me. “Oh what a beautiful name”, I replied. You chuckled.

And that was how our beautiful friendship started! What a helpful, caring friend you were. I remember you helping me to get the AC remote from your colleagues whom I wasn’t so close to and helping me print and scan stuff. You were always willing to help. You gave me the nick-name A-Tizzle and yours was AKB. I remember how we would stand in front of Henrietta’s desk during the occasional break and gist till we realised we’d been out for too long and had to get back to work. You and Henrietta would take pictures and people passing by would tease you one way or the other. I remember you asking me what the response to the popular tease about your home town, “Omo Badan ki ni soo…” was.

I remember having lunch with you almost every working day. I teased you about bringing lunch to work and never eating the canteen food. You’d help me choose lunch, keep my space in the queue, warm my food in the microwave and even share your fruit dessert with me. I remember how I tried to copy you and started bringing my lunch from home too… that didn’t work out for long though obviously as my cooking experiments didn’t turn out quite as tasty as I envisaged.

I remember how I would walk you to your car after work and make your driver, “Baba”, wait another 30 minutes just because we were gisting. I remember the few times I’d ask you to drive home and how you told me about the little accident you had on Bourdillon. However you drove a couple of times, looking extremely cool in your orange or black pair of Ray-ban sunglasses.

I remember how sweet you were to your parents and family… buying them a cake just to appreciate all they had done for you, the beautiful cake you gave your aunty on her birthday two Sundays ago. You still owe me a piece of that cake though. I remember you asking for places where your younger sister could intern this summer. I remember you telling me you missed your older sister and how you wanted to visit her in Abuja soon.

I finally met your parents this week… I saw your dad’s “breakable” art collection you told me about and your fine, “ayounge” mum that you always boasted about.

I remember our shared amusement and strange interest in Africa Magic Yoruba movies.

I remember how you would say sorry and console me when I had my occasional cold and allergy.

I remember how you shared confidential business thoughts with me and how you wanted me to help out and convinced me to join the team in the future. I remember sharing my funny and embarrassing experience of selling female stuff and how you laughed and admired my hustle and entrepreneurial ability. Unfortunately, your business was still in the planning phase and I never met your partner. I hope we are able to somehow make it a reality.

I remember how you begged me to take you to my church’s midweek service and how you and Henrietta would tease and bully me about it. I eventually took you to church two Sundays ago. I remember how you praised and worshipped God that day. You were so moved. After service, you asked if I could remember the worship song played during the service that you loved. How I wish I could remember that song! I’ll try to get the tape of that service though. I remember how you said you liked my church and you wouldn’t mind attending our services more often. Sadly, that was the last church service you attended…

You were altruistic and cared for the less privileged. I remember you gisting me about your trip to a village in Ghana on a charity teaching program and the smart little girl whom you took a liking to because she was so smart and adorable (guess she reminded you of yourself but you never said so). I remember you asking me for advice when her teacher contacted you that she hasn’t been coming to school because her parents couldn’t pay her school fees and she didn’t have clothes and shoes. I remember us walking to lunch that day and you telling me “That girl must finish school o, over my dead body will she not go to school”. Sigh! Be rest assured that her scholarship will be formalised and she will be sponsored through school in your name.

I remember how humble and respectful you were. You called your colleagues in such a sweet but respectful way…”Mr George, Mrs O”, etc

I remember how I would disturb you to tell me what was wrong whenever something was on your mind or you were sad and how you tried to be strong and deal with it alone. The days you were sad, almost everyone around you felt it. I felt it so bad that I’ll worry so much and tell you to cheer up. I remember how you would be stubborn and ask me not to worry, that you’ll be fine but I should pray for you.

You were more than a friend… my lunch buddy, my trusted advisor, my little sister, my very dear friend. Within a few weeks of knowing you, we had shared so many deep and precious moments…

I’m glad our paths crossed and for all that we shared, however little it was. I know you are in a better place… away from all the strife and craziness of this world.

Written by “A-Tizzle” in fond memory of his dear friend, Kunbi Adebiyi who went to be with the Lord on the 3rd of June, 2012.

***

Hello guys,

Hope you’ve been well. I know I might have done this through other media but I’d like to send my condolences to all who lost friends, family, colleagues or acquaintances in the crash of June 3rd 2012. I know a few people who lost dear ones and it has been totally heartbreaking watching them trying to be strong or not even bothering at all. This is a guest post by a good friend who was friends with Irene Adekunbi Adebiyi, one of the departed.

A service of songs was held today in her honour and my oh my, the Word of God is truly refreshing. I could feel a burden lift off as the Pastors spoke. One of her best friends paid a tribute to her and I totally commend her strength as she delivered a beautiful summary of who Kunbi was. It gave an insight into the type of person she was, especially to those of  us who didn’t know her. All I can say is this: life is not our right, it is a privilege and for it, we should remain grateful and live purposefully. Kunbi, from all I can tell, clearly did. She packed so much into her 22 years that leave me inspired. As Pastor Ituah Ighodalo put it, Adekunbi Adebiyi is a Superstar!

God bless you all!

Temiville.xoxo

NB: Please people, DO NOT live in fear. Do not fear when in an aircraft or when your loved ones are in one. Do not fear. Fear brings torment and is of the devil. Affliction shall not arise a second time. Please walk  and live in joy and confidence and live a life that is at peace with God.

How could she?!

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Segun had been on my case for at least 2 years.

I met him one hot Saturday as I was waiting for a taxi on Grogner Street in Iwaya, Onike. He pulled over and  asked where I was headed. I don’t ever talk to people on the road but this day, the look of the mist on the window of his air conditioned car made it difficult to ignore him given the extreme heat I was exposed to.

I stepped into his car, grateful for the ride, yet determined to let him know I was no cheap girl that jumps into available cars.

“Thank you so much, Sir, for the ride. I normally wouldn’t do this but I have been standing outside in the sun for at least 30 minutes. The cabs come in trickles and are either taken or too expensive. No one is interested in going my way”

“Where might that be?” He asked, totally ignoring every other thing I had said.

“I’m going to Ikota but I’ll drop off once we get to any major road where I can find a cab”.

“You’re in luck. I’m actually going to VGC but I need to get to Surulere first. So I can either drop you off at a taxi park or you accompany me to Surulere and then I drop you off at your doorstep.”

Inasmuch as I was so eager not to overuse help being rendered, I opted for the latter option. I was in no hurry whatsoever to go my empty home. Mom and dad were on their way to Ikene for a week long engagement and my younger siblings were all in school. My best friend, Mololu had kindly volunteered to spend the week with me but she would not be  getting to mine until Sunday night so that meant I’d be spending Saturday night by myself with only Larry, the dog and Mustafa, the gate man, for company.

I looked at my wristwatch, with its recently cracked screen and declared,

“Well, it’s just 1.00 and I’m not in a hurry so I’ll go with you”.

I got to meet him properly. His name is Segun, a businessman who was into the oil and gas sector. He had been working for himself in Libya before moving to Nigeria  earlier that year. The Nigerian side of his business was only just growing and was already facing major challenges but a meeting he had in Abuja two weeks from our meeting would determine if a major stumbling block would be removed and his license would be granted.  He saw an RCCG band on my wrist and asked me to pray along with him. I promised to.

As he dropped me off at about 4pm that Saturday evening, I felt like I knew him already. Segun was very chatty, divulging a lot so quickly. During those hours we spent together, I also found out that he has a 5 year old daughter by a white French girl he dated all through his university years in France. The lady had gone on to marry another Nigerian and they lived in Port Harcourt with his daughter, Amélie. His dad was long gone and his mom had raised him and his siblings by herself. I did what I do not ever do. I gave him my phone numbers and my pin and from there, we became friends.

The problem with Segun was with his way of showing concern and love. My primary love language is Quality Time and I’m not really the type to get all mushy too early. So it came as a bit of a rude shock to me when I received my first “love you baby”, 2 weeks from the day we met. I really didn’t know what to make of the message and it abruptly ended our chat as I did not respond. To be fair to him, I assumed he was simply overjoyed as he was granted all necessary permits we prayed for, that he spoke out of turn.

About four hours after, at 1 am, I got another message from him telling me how much he’s so into me and how he feels like he has finally found what he had been looking for and if I would be okay being a second mom to his daughter and how he wants me to meet his mom. I read it and responded with a “BRB”. Later in the day, we met up for a meal and then I explained how, though I appreciate his feelings, it was all too soon for me and I would appreciate if I am given a bit more time to be on that kind of level with him. In the meanwhile, I suggested that we remain friends. He looked a bit disappointed but accepted and declared that he was in no hurry and would wait for me however long it took me to realise my feelings for him or develop them.

Segun was extremely generous to me, almost worryingly so. Once he travelled and brought me an orange Hermès’ Birkin 40cm bag which retails for about $2000. I was shocked and despite loving nice stuff, I didn’t want to take it from him initially but I eventually did mentioning it to him that he really didn’t need to spend that much on me and he should focus more on growing his business.

Mololu usually saw one Harrods or Neiman Marcus shopping bag or the other and was always encouraging me to “stop fronting and say yes to Segun before a sharp girl does”. I guess because of the manner in which he approached me, it made me a bit overly cautious since this his asking out was more like a proposal and he seemed so sure of his feelings for me. I slowed things down a lot and outrightly refused to meet his mom for the first three months. I didn’t want to get carried away at all and kept praying and taking things slow. Despite our living so close to each other, I hardly went to his and since I come from a relatively strict home, his visits were sparing as well (of my doing).

About six months after we met, work commitments took him away from Nigeria for a long while. During that period, he would come to Nigeria at least once a month, bombarding me with all manners of gifts. Even when he was not around, he’d randomly have flowers delivered to my office.

He would send handwritten letters by DHL and whenever anyone was travelling to Nigeria, he would have them deliver something to me, however small. There was a time he sent me a bottle of Lucozade because I had lamented that the Nigerian one tasted different. When it came to giving, Segun was without fault. But in my opinion, there was more to consider than how generous a man is.

Sometime, five months ago, Mololu was sent to England for a training to last 3 weeks and she used the opportunity to shop and ended up having 2 extra boxes. She complained over the phone to me telling me the airline was overcharging her and then, partly because I felt it right to help and partly because I had ordered somethings which she was bringing for me, I decided to ask Segun if he could help out since I know he always travelled light and never uses the extra allowance granted to him. He accepted to help bring the extra boxes and I gave her his hotel address to drop them off a day before her flight. He was due in Nigeria a week and half after.

My suspicion was first roused when, upon his arrival, he took the bags to Mololu’s in Ogudu, instead of as I expected, bringing it to me and having us sort ourselves out. I asked for the favour. I mentioned to him that my stuff was included in the box so it came as a surprise to me when he drove all the way to hers the next day to drop the boxes off. When I asked him why he did that, he said the boxes were quite heavy and that he was going that way and decided to drop them off. I had more questions but felt since I was not his girlfriend, there is a limit to the questions I can pose without looking funny. My pride got in the way and I decided not to mention it anymore.

The calls reduced. The texts were shorter. The usual “love you” closing went missing. ‘Mololu too reduced her communication with me. Then one day, she drove to mine and after lunch asked the most random question, ‘Are you and Segun in a relationship?”. She looked like she had struggled to ask that question but at the same time,  as though that was her aim for coming to mine.

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing at all o. Just wondering ’cause you have known him for a while and you said you were praying a while back for direction and was wondering if maybe God said no since you are not dating him”, she mumbled.

“Omololu, did I say we are not dating?”

“Oh sorry. But I kinda know you are not”

At this stage, I know she and Segun must have spoken about our relationship status and so I decided to cut to the chase.

“Did Segun mention it to you himself?”

She looked down and playing with her perfectly manicured nails, said yes. I had noticed she brought a brand new car to mine with a new plate number. She had the black of my Hermes bag too. Wow! I didn’t want to believe what I know just had to be the truth. It was written all over her face. I don’t know where I got the strength but I said not a word after that. Awkwardly, she picked up her bag and car keys. I noticed then it was a Hyundai. It must be the Sonata she always wanted ever since it was released last year. She would always point at every 2011 Sonata she saw on the road and say she’d one day, get it.

To cut the very long tale short, my best friend Omololu and my 2 year old toaster are now together. Segun drove to mine 2 weeks after Omololu did and said somethings to me. He first of all apologised. He said he was not sorry for moving on but sorry that it had to be someone I knew simply because of the sake of his consideration of my feelings and not because it was wrong. He said, as I never for once, declared any form of feelings for him during our almost 2 year friendship, he does not feel he had wronged me in any way. He said he would always be grateful for meeting me as, through me, a door of everlasting joy had been opened to him and he would like my blessing as he walks into it. I was weak.

To be honest, I’m not hundred percent certain which hurts more, the fact that I’m losing a really nice and eligible suitor, that I lost him to a ‘friend’, the sneaky way it happened or the fact that I almost executed the deed for them by creating an enabling environment.

I really wanted to know how it all happened and so I demanded the tale, not from Mololu, but from Segun himself. He told me that the week before he travelled, when he saw her at mine, they had got talking whilst I was in the bathroom and she had mentioned she would be off on training and that she would be doing crazy shopping for her new apartment. They had a few ‘moments’ that day but they did not exchange numbers. It was the day she brought the bags to his hotel that the sparks went flying. She had gotten to his hotel at about 12 noon and they went to out together and he dropped her off at her hotel at about 9pm. Early the next morning,  at about 5 am, he drove down to her hotel to take her to the airport himself and from their journey, they got even closer. According to him, he knew that morning that he was ‘home’. That conversation sounded painfully familiar and I couldn’t help my grimace. At that juncture, I held up my hands and told him I was satisfied with the information he furnished and that they both have my blessing. He hugged me and left.

That evening, Omololu updated her status with these words “Those that wait on the Lord will rejoice. I rejoice. Behold, my Boaz!”. His picture was her DP. I remember that picture. I took it with his iPhone whilst trying out an app. Each day, a new picture of him would be put on display. There was even one of herself, Segun and his daughter. She had firmly ingrained herself in his life.

Due to how serious I know Segun is, it came as no shock to me when she told me they were getting married and she really wanted me to be her chief bridesmaid though if I felt I could not do it, she would understand. According to her, she was doing that for the friendship we once shared which she hoped we could revive. I refused. But not before letting her know that I could be counted on if she needed any assistance.

At about 12 midnight, I got this email from her,

“Sweetheart, I love you. God knows I do. I apologise for how I might have hurt you but despite all, I would be a liar to say I would or could elect to do things differently if given a second chance.

Oluwasegun has brought me the type of joy I thought was only for the fairy tales. But through him, I have my very own fairy tale. I love him with all my being. I know I might come across as insensitive and selfish. I am sorry. But please, try and find a place in your kind heart to let go of any hurt you might be experiencing and enter into a place of happiness for me, Omololu, your sister and best friend since our Corona days. It should not be heard that we are fighting over a man and remember, my darling, you never were in a relationship with Segun.

You never took the plunge, you shielded your heart from hurt and refused to commit to anything. I know you babes. When you truly love a man, you have no time for such long due diligence exercises. If you want to be sincere with yourself, you would admit that Segun never did anything to your heart. Your heart did not skip beats with the sound of his voice. Your body never quivered with the touch of his hands. I understand you two never even kissed. You clearly never felt love for him.

However, I cannot discount the friendship you shared. Till date, he still goes on and on about how you are the only friend whose loss moved him to his core. I can testify too of your level of regard of your friendship and respect for him. But my dear, friendship and respect are not solid foundation enough upon which to construct a marriage. You knew this and this is why you stalled. What did not grow in 2 years would most likely never grow.

I hope you understand that the aim of this email is not to throw in your face the fact that Oluwasegun and yourself never had anything concrete but to let you take a proper, honest and dispassionate look at goings on. If you do, forgiving me would come, naturally.

I can’t stop loving you dear. I am sad that the vow we made to each other 16 years ago to be each others’ maids of honour even if one got married first would not be fulfilled. Please, re-examine your heart and find a place in it to forgive me.

Yours now and always,

‘Mololu.”

The tears came pouring down. I couldn’t say exactly why and they were not asking. I felt sorry for myself. I felt sad because I really wasn’t crazy about Segun but we could have made it work, I guess. Omololu now was benefitting from all the prayers I invested in Segun, all the fasting. That, more than anything hurt me. I would have married Segun. I just needed him to pass one more test and voila, I’d have said yes to him. I never thought he’d stop loving me. I never though I’d lose him and certainly not to my friend, my supposed best friend.

***

I eventually decided to be her Chief Bridesmaid and muster strength to be happy for her. There was no faking the look of intense joy on her face when I told her I changed my mind. She jumped on me in her usual boisterous fashion, laughing and crying at the same time.

God has been helping me. It has been hard. Especially when I see the look on Segun’s face as he looks at her. He never looked at me that way, I must confess.

His business has been doing greatly and he is sparing nothing for his wedding. His daughter, upon Omololu’s request, will be both the little bride and the flower girl. Omololu’s nephew will be the ringbearer. Her Eli Saab dress is absolutely beautiful. Segun flew us both to England to get it. She asked for a size bigger and I suspect she is pregnant.

With each day, the feeling of hurt and betrayal gets slowly taken over by happiness for her and hope for my own future. I still haven’t met anyone worth reporting on and despite this, I have joy. Not happiness, but joy; joy that all will turn out well. But for now, I still can’t help from asking myself each time I look at Omololu, ‘How could she?!

***

Ok, MCLA readers, what are your views on this situation?

-Would you accuse Omololu of being a conniving, scheming friend? Or would you blame the writer for being a slow person who forgot that time waits for no man and who possibly had started taking Segun for granted? Or should we lay the blame at Segun’s feet, the slimy bastard who had the nerve to move from one girl to her best friend? Or is there really anyone to blame? Could it not be argued, and successfully too, that when love takes over, restraint is hard, if not impossible, to practise and maybe, as Omololu stated in her letter, Segun was never destined to be with her friend?

-Do you support long periods of ‘fronting’ or as some term it, due diligence/waiting on God’s approval? How long is too long for a girl to keep a guy hanging?

-Also, the issue is raised on the appropriateness or not of a guy coming on strong and speaking of marriage early on thereby making a girl overly careful and scared to say yes.

-I also see the matter of getting your friend close to your man or potential man. How close is too close? Was the writer silly in giving them that opportunity to start something or would it have happened anyway?

-There is also the issue of being a good nice girl who would not accept anything (gifts etc.) from a guy as you want to build things together and do not want to appear to be using him and then along comes ‘Sisi Nene’ who takes whatever she is offered, sometimes even demsnding,  and dude keeps loving her deeper and deeper.

These are a few of the issues I identified. Do you see more? What are your thoughts?

Muse with me!

Temiville.xoxo

The Estate Gate in ‘Lere

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I live in Surulere.

Tired, I stroll home from the estate gate. Mayowa had graciously offered to pick me up every morning and drop me ever since my 5-year-old Camry decided to die on me.  Thankfully, the house was only 10 minutes’ walk from the gate and I had refused Mayowa’s offer to pick from my front gate. I needed those moments of reflection. In the mornings, I would think about my To-Do list and pray as I walked to the gate and in the evening, I’d think about how much I had achieved and how my day had gone.

Today was a different day, however. I had received Bolanle’s call as early as 7 am as I walked to the gate. My ‘Ara Nbe’ ring tone blared and vibrated in my hands, rudely bringing me back to the earth as I was lost in prayers. I had been so tempted to put it on silent and ignore the call but it was Bolanle calling and since I had not spoken with her in a while, I decided to pick. I also figured that it must have been urgent for her to be calling me so early in the day.

‘Hey boo’, I said attempting to sound chirpy.

‘Wasssaaaaaap?!’, she screamed. She sure sounded excited for a 7am call and no, I was not disappointed.

‘I’m engaged.  Dipo proposed’, she gushed.

I was stunned. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am always excited at news of people deciding to be together forever. But with Bolanle, I just couldn’t get past the shock and into the joy zone.

‘Molly, are you there?’.

Nothing.

‘Omolade?’, her voice woke me up from my reverie. I didn’t realise I had been quiet for a while.

‘Babes, I can’t lie to you. I am shocked. Like seriously? Shepe that dude has proposed, just like that?’, I asked.

‘As in Molade, I don’t know. It came as a shock to me too. I’m just like in a state of shock too. He did it last night and then my battery died and as soon as I woke up, I said to myself that I had to tell you first after my family. This kain God sha’.

‘Wow’ was all I could manage.

Bolanle, oblivious to my total shock went on,

‘There’s so much to catch up on my love. Let’s do dinner tomorrow at Cactus. I know you have issues with your car so I’ll drop you off afterwards. Is that okay by you?’

‘Cactus is fine. I’ll make sure I close early tomorrow. Can you be at my office by 6?’

And that was how we firmed up plans to go over how on earth she got proposed to so soon after a major breakup. Not only did she get proposed to, from the way she spoke, it was also a well thought out and well prayed over decision.

As I say my prayers, preparing to sleep, I still cannot get over the shock of it all. Omobolanle Ajibade? Engaged? Getting married? Wow. I can’t but remember past happenings…

***

Bolanle Ajibade is an amazing girl. We had met during one of the CD days at Eti Osa II LGA. She was a Batch C corper of the past year and I was a fresh Batch A corper. She was just impossible to ignore. She had been driven to the Local Government in a company car still wearing a business suit and I had wondered what she was doing there. She had tried to get some document signed but the Zonal Inspector told her she could do no such thing without the proper NYSC gear. Without arguing she left and reemerged about 10 minutes later in her khakis and white top.

I said ‘hello’ to her and asked her where she her Place of Primary Assignment was. She didn’t look like your average corper plus the fact that she had a company car and driver intrigued me even further. She mentioned one of the best consulting firms in the world with their head quarters in the US. She had already been working in the States and basically hustled/begged for a transfer to Nigeria where they had recently open shop. She looked so focus, driven and when I learned that she studied at Yale, I was blown away. We became fast friends. That was 3 years ago.

We were each other’s confidantes through series of bad relationships. She was there for me 2 years ago when I broke up with my boyfriend of 5 years. I, too, had been her shoulder to cry on when 2 serious relationships failed.  Well, with Bolanle it was always a serious relationship or nothing. She was never the type to ‘sample’ or to ‘see how it goes’. She was a serious minded lady who put that into everything she did. Bolanle and I weren’t your typical ‘see each other every day or even every weekend type of friends’ but when we did see, we shared deep things that our everyday friends were not privy to.

Bolanle’s last relationship was pretty sad. She had dated Chinedum for about a year and theirs appeared to be a rock solid relationship. They were friends first and later it developed into a strong attraction. She had invited him to her Church and he managed to convert from his Catholic faith and even became an Usher in the Pentecostal Church. From Day 1, Chinedum had been honest with her about having had a child whilst in University with his then girlfriend, Princess. His son, Jonathan was about 4 when they met. At first she has struggled with the idea but after praying about it, she decided to let it go and even asked to meet him.

Princess was only 20 when she had Jonathan and he lived with her and her parents up until she finished university at UI. When it was time for her to proceed to obtain her Masters degree, he moved to Abuja to live with Chinedum’s parents. According to her, he was a cute, well-behaved young man and she could already imagine him as hers. The fact that his mom was away and that he was with his dad’s family made it easy for her to envision life as a family unit. She would always buy him toys whenever she went with Chinedum to visit his parents and she would call to speak with him often. She loved him already and it appeared the feelings were mutual.

To cut a very long tale short, Chinedum broke up with her. According to him, he wanted to make right his wrongdoing of impregnating Princess at 19 despite the fact that she was a very good girl back then thereby subjecting her to ridicule from all fronts and exposing her devout Catholic parents to shame. He said that by them getting married and raising their son together, the shame of it all would be, in a way, less impactful. Princess, he explained, was a decent girl who had prayed to God for them to get back together and had refused to even date after him.

Bolanle later discovered that Chinedum eventually returned to Catholicism as Princess is also Catholic and their young son had been raised in the Catholic faith. She was devastated and inconsolable. She would weep at every slight memory of Chinedum. But through prayers, fasting, constant support and the realisation that they could really not remain friends, she bounced back. A bit too strongly, I think.

This happened just about a year ago and last I checked, she was not serious with anyone but merely going on mild dates maybe to the movies and the occasional dinner. I really couldn’t wait to get the details of how she managed to get proposed to so quickly.

Bolanle and I planned to do dinner by 6:30pm. I work in VI and her office is in Ikoyi so the arrangement was for her to pick me up by 6pm and then we go to Cactus which is not too far from my office. By 5:30, I was all packed. My boss had given me a task at about 3:30pm that should ordinarily take about 1 and a half hours to complete but I made sure I lingered till when Bolanle pinged me that she was in the car park to send it off and then I was out.

‘Babes, how na? How was your day?’ she asked as I settled into her car.

Just there, same ol’. Yours?, I responded leaning over for a kiss on both cheeks and a tight hug. I hadn’t seen her in a while and she looked good, slightly chubbier but good all the same.

‘It was great o’, she said as she began navigating her way out of the car park.

Excitedly, I declared, ‘enough of story abeg lemme see your ring!’.

It was a single stone ring with a rectangular cut diamond sitting within a high four-claw setting, with tapered shoulders. It was beautiful. Simple. Elegant.

She was so happy and her happiness made me happy for her too but I was so scared. I had only met this dude once and I thought things were a bit rushed on his part but from the look on her face, I could tell that she was in perfect peace. It was a look of contentment, the type of look that would be found on the face of a sojourner that had arrived at his destination.

As we arrived at Cactus and she put the car in park, I held her in a tight embrace and the tears came pouring, of their free will. I was so moved by it all.

I had skipped lunch and so had built up a ravenous apetite so I had pasta whilst she had a chicken Caesar salad.

‘I’m trying to fit into a size 8 wedding dress o,’ she announced.

‘What? You guys are already talking marriage?’ I don’t why that made me surprised but it did.

‘Ahn ahn, ore, you see ring on my finger, won’t you be shocked if we are not talking marriage’. She had made a fine point.

After being overfed at Cactus with portions that look like they were designed for three, Bolanle needed no urging to come out with her tale…

‘Molade, you know it all nah. All the weeping, gnashing of teeth, sleepless nights all because of man? After that whole Chinedum episode dear, my mom gave me some sound advice and I will do you great justice to pass on these nuggets of wisdom’.

By this time, I was caught up. I couldn’t wait to receive these wise words.

‘You see’, she went on, ‘my mom never understood why I would be so into a guy thereby giving him the power to hurt me so much when it’s not like I’m married or even engaged to him. She just didn’t get it. She reminded me of how things were done in her days where different men would woo her and the only heartache or inconvenience she would face would be in deciding which of her suitors she wanted for a proper courtship.

By this time, I was enthralled though words like ‘woo’, ‘suitor’, ‘courtship’ were kind of alien to me.

She went on,

‘Mom told me I was silly for investing so much in a relationship that had no guarantees whatsoever. She said I had tried things my own way for so long and failed at it and that I should simply humour her and give her own mechanism a shot. And that my dear Molly is what I did.

I prayed to God and decided to get lost in His love instead of focusing on the love man had to offer. I decided to let Him take the wheel. Then I started going out more. I’d go for events, fashion shows, birthday parties, karaoke nights with friends and their friends, singles’ meetings and dinners, the whole works. I met loads of people, loads I say. I gave out my number and gradually started selecting the ones I could relate with properly. I ignored the faffers and the obviously crazy ones and then gradually, the ones whose craze manifested with time. All those times I was going on dates, I would go on 4 dates in a week. In three weeks, I’d have been wined and dined by 6 different guys. Eventually, over time, I whittled the number down to three: the three I liked the most.

I never lied. Never promised nothing. I let them do all the hustling over me and I did all the watching, praying, studying and of course, enjoying. I was not technically going out with them but I knew they liked me and were thinking seriously about me’.

‘There’s something I must mention, babe’, she said with a glint in her eyes. ‘Go on’, I responded, almost impatiently.

‘Their presence in my life acted as a balance as I had a tendency to hold on too tightly to someone I like. But seeing three people allowed me to be able to turn down dates, be unavailable and pretty much have a fulfilling time instead of just always being there for that one person. Since I never so much as pecked them all that while, I felt not an iota of guilt.

After three months, three became two and then it was I who was faced with deciding who I wanted to be with.  I could have decided alone but I chose to decide with the help of praying people such as my parents, my pastor and his wife and my grandma. They didn’t give me any names of who is right or wrong but they told me to trust God and keep praying.

Within 2 months, my likeness for Dipo grew to deep love to almost match his for me. I gently told the other guy I was getting serious with someone else and lo and behold, on Friday after a dinner date, he proposed to me and I knew without a doubt that he is my man.

‘Wow all this under 7 months?!!!’

‘Yes oh, Molly’.

She then dropped me in front of my house gate as she wondered aloud if it would be a Kosibah gown or a Pronovias one.

***

It is a Monday morning.

As I walk to the estate gate to meet up with Mayowa, I reflect on events of the past few days. Could Bolanle’s mom be right? Is it okay to keep your options open even after the guy(s) has made it clear that he likes and that he wants to be with you? Is this not cheating, even if not in the strict sense? Maybe if I had practised this method with Tunji, I wouldn’t have been totally crushed when we separated.

The method does have its appeal I must agree. It helps us women not focus too much on any one guy thereby turning him to a husband before he even understands how he feels for us. It helps us maintain a happy, carefree, demeanour that isn’t overly clingy or expectant.  It takes away any semblance of urgency, desperation or need to always be with one man which then gives him the ammunition to hurt you, even when he doesn’t mean to, like with Chinedum and his going back to Princess.

Now that Detola from the office is beginning to show interest, I’d go out with him and see what he is about and then on Thursday, I’ll accept Mayowa’s invite to go to the movie premiere. I’ll go with Alex and his sisters to the programme their church is organizing. By the end of next month, I should have my top 3 contenders. This definitely has its appeal.

***

Dedicated to all the amazing people I work with.x

***

Happy Easter people. If Christ rose on the 3rd day, doesn’t that mean He rose on Monday? I’m just wondering.

I cannot be myself around you…

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Can two walk together except they agree?

I cannot be myself around you

I feel the need to form, to act like a lady when I can be so crazy

To fake an accent, when I am as real it gets

To sit straight when all I want to do is slouch

To wake up early when I just want to sit in bed and drink yesterday’s unrefrigerated juice

To be nice when I just want to be grumpy

To  laugh cutely when I just want to roar in an unfeminine manner

To watch E! when I’d rather watch Africa Magic (Yoruba)

To send ‘nice’ tweets when I really itch to be crude sometimes

Can two walk together except they agree?

***

I like you

I believe you

But we are two different people

You, the nice and polite gentleman

I, the free spirited soul

Can two walk together except they agree?

***

You read your Bible everyday

I read when I remember

Maybe when the Preacher man directs us to a passage

Or I want to prove someone wrong

I forget to pray

Though I am not so much of a Bible reader

I know that passage that asks,

Can two walk together except they agree?

Disclaimer:

*A piece of art*

Just one is not enough mehn!

11 Comments

It’s Friday again!!!

To be honest, I’m really not one of those who get particularly excited about Fridays. Truth is, it feels good to have a good lie in on a Saturday but that hardly happens for me so what’s to be so excited about? I will still wake up at 5 am tomorrow. I will still get out of the house at 6 to join the jogging group. I will still study so yeah, thank God it’s Friday but aint nothing special.  Just not to sound too anti-TGIF, I took it upon myself to bring you some interesting TGIFriday photos. Enjoy…

This though, lol

I don’t know if I have mentioned this already but I’ll go ahead and let it out: Wednesdays at TPH are amazing!!! This Wednesday, I really did not feel like going to Church. I just wanted to chill. I wanted to do anything but go to Church. To make Church look even longer, I was going to have to stroll down to the Dome (it’s only about 10 minutes’ walk but still). After much internal debate, I carried my Bible and started my waka to TPH. That, my dear readers, was a decision I really thank God for helping me make. By the way, whenever there’s something good you need to do but you find yourself struggling, like Nike, just do it. It will end up being a very wise decision. This pertains especially to things like giving (to charity, paying your tithes, giving a more generous offering), going to Church, praying before getting up, calling a friend who just pops on your mind etc.

So I went to Church and took a seat and since we had been told that Pastor Rapu would be ministering, I was waiting patiently for one deep, ‘ooh ahh hmm’ inspiring message. But what happened was totally of a different dimension. It was worship all through! I mean worship all through. No, ‘let’s open our Bibles to… as service is about to start’. Worship was service. Service WAS worship. It was amazing!

Another side note: there was something on my mind as worship went on and it threatened to hinder my ability to go into His presence and stay there. I kept looking at my phone waiting for this call and I was sooo distracted. Note of advice: when you are expecting a call or worried about someone or something, if you, like me, don’t have enough strength to cast it aside and focus solely on God, pray to God for grace, excuse yourself, go outside,  make that call, come back in, put that phone on ‘All alerts off’ and FOCUS. No use trying to be strong when you’re not.

What Pastor Rapu spoke on after the service ended is worthy of a separate post and I will do just that soon. Here is a brief introduction however:

Idolatry must be stamped down upon. You cannot serve two masters. Idols are not just the Baals, the Sangos, the Mammons (money). It is way broader that those. Just as the prophets of Baal were disgraced by their god in the book of Kings, so will anything you ‘worship’ except God end up disgracing you. I identified at least three idols I was battling with which God is now helping me deal with. Identify yours today, acknowledge your weakness in addressing them and ask for the grace to overcome them. God help us all. Amen.

On a random note…So my friend and I were doing some domestic financial analysis the other day, here goes…

In Nigeria today, for a young person with a bit of work experience (between 1year-4 years’ experience)

-an okay job is one that you earn N150,000-N200,000

-a good job = N250,000-N400,000

-a great job = N500,000-N750,000

-a marvelous and amazing, worthy of testimony on a thanksgiving Sunday job = N800,000-N1.5M

-an ‘it’s a lie, it’s not possible, I don’t believe until I see the pay slip’ job= N2M and above.

Now, let’s imagine a scenario whereby you have a great job and you earn 500k per month. You are also married and you have 2 kids. Let’s do a quick but rough estimation of expenses incurred annually/monthly leading a relatively middle class lifestyle (the middle class is blurred in Naij to be honest).

Quick Info

Dictionary definition of Middle class: a class of people intermediate between the classes of higher and lower social rank or standing; the social, economic, cultural class, having approximately average status, income, education, tastes, and the like. 2. the class traditionally intermediate between the aristocratic class and the labouring class).

(I came up with most of these figures but they are as close to reality as you can get)

-your kids (Aramide and Ese as you are Delta and you marry Yoruba, hehehe) are 4 and 2 and are going to Corona VI (N800,000)

-you live in a 3 bedroom flat in 1004 (N3M)

-you have a car, your spouse has one too (N4M-unless you take loans in which case your situation is even worse)

-you intend to go on annual vacations with the entire family (not Jand, I mean real vacations-2M)

-you hire domestic staff, driver-N30k p/month, house help-N10k, cook- N30k)

-you feed (can’t come up with an estimate, hmm let’s say N150k)

These are just a few of the expenses.  Some might be unnecessary e.g. house helps and cook if you are a super woman.

How on earth are you supposed to do all this on just your own incomes as a couple? Point is: you need to have at least 2 streams of income. Ideally you should aim at MULTIPLE streams. Dependence on a job is not the way forward. It is not going to give you the life you desire. We need to start thinking up ways to sustain ourselves beyond the monthly bank alert from your work place. I get so inspired by young people who have identified this truth and are running with the vision of self employment or at least ‘something by the side’. Identify your area of gifting, hone it and let it begin to speak for you. After all Mark Zuckerberg has one head.

Have a great weekend!

Temiville.xoxo

The homegoing…

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Thursday the 3rd of March

Hmm, I know I have been a quiet little birdy all this while but it was because something was brewing…something huge!!! Wait for it… I returned to Nigeria after almost 5 years today!!! Yes, I did it…

'Im coming home'

When the thought of going back started playing around my head, I got a lot of weird looks from people and even a few actual queries like, ‘Temi, do you know what you are doing?’ Have you prayed? Are you sure it is God and not just you being homesick? Why not pray harder, apply for jobs harder?’ But I knew without an iota of doubt that it was time to return home. It was not about being homesick or because job opportunities were not forthcoming, no. There was something bigger, deeper, more profound. There was this heavy sense of ‘The time is now’. No more ‘the time is nigh’.

This feeling was so deeply rooted in me that no amount of drama I have experienced in the past day have managed to shake my sureness. The drama started from Heathrow o. I looked like a refugee with all my stuff and I paid dearly for it. Thank God for the help He raised in carrying my luggage. I probably would have missed my flight if not because of the help I received. I was so stressed. The flight itself was okay. Nothing to report aside of the usual rowdy people who wanted to run out whilst the plane was still taxiing.

We got to the airport and the heat that welcome me does not have part 2. I almost went dizzy. One of my boxes was the very last to arrive so you can imagine the wait. The porters charged me 45o naira for both trolley and their service (they later asked for ‘appreciation money’ which I declined with a sweet smile. Why do I have to pay you for doing a job I have paid you for???’). A good Indian-Samiritan paid for it for me (thanks love).

After all the drama of searching through my luggage at customs, I was finally re-united with my mom and brother who were waiting for me. It was off to the local airport and straight to Abuja (I slept like a baby through that flight). If I thought Las Gidi heat was crazy, the one in Abuja is pure insanity. Now, I understand the logic behind the stench in public places. Side Note: Always have your Sure in your handbag so as not to contribute to the situation.

The drama in Abuja deserves a post all by itself, I tell you. I am just rushing to use the internet at my uncle’s office in Maitama.PS:  I still have not seen my dad in almost 5 years despite being back. I am off to hustle at the NYSC office in Maitama just opposite where I am now. It is quite a lovely building. The one I’m in now is the NUC building,  ‘AJA NWACHUKWU HOUSE’ whilst the NYSC one is called, ‘YAKUBU GOWON HOUSE’. Abuja is a really pretty city. People say it is the closest to Jand you get in Naij. I think it is more like Yankee with the houses and wide roads.

NUC Building

Let me rush off to see Hajia in the NYSC office. I hope this all gets sorted today.

To be continued…

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