By fire, by force and the culture shocks!

I have been too busy to write stories. Sometimes starring in your own blockbuster movie pushes your job as a scribe to the backseat and then life happens and you forget the very experiences you were going to weave into stories. Yesterday my blog took the piss and decided that by fire, by force I had to write something. Admittedly, I had received prior warning but no one really ever takes a threat seriously right? What am I going on about? You know, you received those emails too! The first was some days ago and the other was yesterday. Emails I got too and believe me, no one was as shocked as I was, to receive an email from yours truly telling of the wonders of Avast antivirus! I’m sorry for the glitch everyone!

I don’t even know if I was hacked! I changed my password immediately and later in the day my cousin sent me a message to alert me to this strange occurrence. Thank you blog, your warnings have been heeded and I have repented. Here I am, picking up my dusty old pen to write to a bunch of friends who have probably forgotten the Chutzpah that once was. Forgive me comrades, life happens and sometimes it’s one helluva journey!

Today I’m going to be telling you about 10 culture shocks that living in Canada served me hot hot!!! Because if I don’t say it, you’ll come here and chop the same breakfast and that wouldn’t be right. Without further ado, I’ll delve right into the matter!

1. Apologizing for things you’re not directly responsible for is weird!

You know how in Nigeria everyone is angry by default? You want to ask a stranger a question and your sentence starts with ‘Sorry, please…’ or ‘Abeg no vex,’ or ‘Épelé ma, jo…’ or someone hurts themselves and you say sorry. This is being polite in Nigeria but in the Western world the person would give you a bewildered look and say ‘it’s not your fault’. A please and/or thank you suffices for any asks and for the latter, ‘are you alright?’ shows more empathy than ‘sorry’. Had to start spitting out the sorries because my body seems to be made of 60% sorries and 40% whatever the anatomy books say!

2. Nigerians overdress!

Forget all the couture you see on Instagram and Television, abroad life is not high fashion! Only about 1% of the population is fashion conscious in a way Nigerians understand (high fashion + designers), the majority just dress for comfort. So it’s very easy to spot the immigrants especially our Nigerian brothers and sisters. We know we are not dressing for the abroad people but instead we are dressing to show we are abroad (Japa mode activated, if you don’t gerrit forget abourrit). On a Sunday, Canadians are wearing slacks and a T-shirt to worship their Lord and Nigerians are either in regal traditional attire or wearing designer outfits. It definitely was a culture shock to see that even though the Western world influences our fashion sense in Africa, the people in the abroad dress very simply and comfortably and seem fashion immune!

3. Restaurant recommendations 😭

Canadians ooh and aah about food. They have a fusion of English and French cuisine that they are super proud of. The only problem is our Nigerian tastebuds are snobs. The first thing a Nigerian told me here was never order what they are ordering! The minute they give it a 5 star recommendation, chances are you’re going to hate it. Their idea of spicy is baby food drizzled in garlic with a hint of chili. And food is usually salads or soups or soupy salads or salady soups with white rice (no stew) and some protein which in fairness is often delicious. Even the foods that my butter body craved in their authenticity for example spaghetti bolognese were ruined when I tasted the real one at an Italian restaurant. The Nigerian one was obviously a remix! And don’t let me even get started on their Chinese cuisine! The Chinese cuisine in Nigeria is heavy on the spicy and less on the sweet. If you chow sweet and sour pork here the sugar overload will have you worrying about diabetes! Regardless of my initial shock, I decided to go ahead with my quest to expand my palate and I’m proud to say they do have some amazing dishes and my tongue is now 65% oyinbo!

4. The weather!

Should this have been a culture shock? No! We all know Canada is cold but knowing and feeling are two separate things. Until you live in -24 degrees weather, you can’t tell me nothing (please note that Lagos gets to 35 degrees sometimes and if you sabi math you know how many degrees in between these two figures, mad oh)! The main culture shock wasn’t even the cold because everywhere indoors is cosy and warm during the winter months. Their heating system is top notch and extends to houses, cars, underground parking etc. And they have very hot water coming out of every tap. So unless you’re taking the bus or working an outdoor job you’ll be fine. The culture shock was threefold- learning to layer clothing, being surprised at how fast it got dark and being shocked at how fast I adapted to the weather. Now that it’s 22 degrees I’m ready to wear a bikini cos my blood is now Canadian 🤣

5. How direct these people are, phew!

The workforce in Nigeria is majorly comprised of people expressing their concerns via office gossip and well primed jabs. The culture of respect is intertwined with fear and people who find it easy to question authority, refuse directives and critic people in power to their faces are an extinct breed in our beloved country but here ehn, the brutal honesty is scary but refreshing and all done with the utmost cordiality. No raised voices or name calling but the way the bullshit is called out everywhere and every time makes me wonder why we are so afraid in Nigeria. P.S: Office gossip is still a thing here!

6. Weekends are mini holidays!

Back home, weekends were for cleaning, cooking, owambes and the occasional hangout. Here, on Friday it’s normal social behavior to stand around the office boasting about weekend plans. Whoever has the most exciting plans win! I always lost because this baby girl is a confirmed couch potato who wanted to Netflix and chill all weekend! But boy oh boy, the things I heard! Canadians have the most exciting weekends. It’s like a personal 52 weekends challenge. I’m still in awe about the number of activities they had planned each weekend and had to consciously escape being dragged into participating. Woman needs her rest. Maybe this will grow on me eventually!

7. If you’re lactose intolerant sorry for you Mr Lagbaja!

Cheese is the National food! Actually it’s poutine but poutine is basically cheese + potatoes. You can’t escape lactose here. Milk, cheese, ice cream everywhere! They basically add cheese or cream to almost every meal and the number of cheeses in this country is befuddling! They also have a garlic obsession! Maybe there were vampires in Canada long ago cos I don’t understand their love of garlic. Someone once gave me a recipe for Thanksgiving turkey which included stuffing 20 heads of garlic into the turkey! I’m still wondering why their fart doesn’t stink to high heavens! If you have lactose intolerance you’d probably need to be on medication (thankfully it’s available without a prescription).

8. The pedestrians own the road!

In Nigeria, crossing the road is an extreme sport. A Danfo driver, Okada man, keke guy or even some unknown motorist could end your life or land you in Igbogbi because they don’t care about your right to their road. Here pedestrians are king, cyclists are princes and bus drivers are members of the court and the rest of you in your fancy cars are common folk! Know this and know peace! There will be no police or Lastma on the road for the most part to keep you in check but those cameras on the street will land you in traffic violations and paying fines that come in the mail as rude cheques! It was also a culture shock for me how respectful and kind other road users were. If you pointed that you wanted to enter a lane the dude behind automatically slowed down. In naija, dude will speed up because you cannot use your reggae to spoil his blues! Nigeria teaches us defensive driving 101, here they are definitely less mad (forget what you watch in action movies).

9. Your phone battery dies more here!

Odd ay? E shock me oh! Apparently it’s not the phone’s fault or the power supply. It’s a brain reset problem. There’s light all of the time, I mean 100% of the time so the urgency to charge your battery is diminished because that urgency was fueled by light rationing and erratic power supply in Nigeria. So you wait till your battery is on 1% and end up with dead phones in funny places. It’s not funny oh, you’ll just be shaking your head cos it’s not like there wasn’t light to charge it!

10. Going for a cup of coffee is a legit mating or social ritual

In Nigeria, would you iron your clothes before Nepa takes light, face beat for 30 minutes, take mad photos for another 10 and then brave ridiculous traffic only to go and drink Lipton or Nescafé with a date, new friend or business associate? No way! In fact I heard someone say tufiakwa for back. Well in the Western world meeting for tea or coffee is a legit social ritual. It’s the talking stage kinda date without your phone being the talk tool. A lunch or dinner date is a more involved commitment. I think it has to do with the vastly different relationship we have with food because my office Christmas party had fancy cheeses and fruit as the Christmas menu and kept waiting for the real party to start! Prepare to drink plenty tea and coffee!

I promised 10 but believe me I could write 40 more 🤣. I hope you forgive me for staying away from writing for so long. I did publish a book while I was away. It’s available on Amazon and Okadabooks- see links below. If I’m truly forgiven and you want to see me write more frequently, please drop a comment! Let me know the people that are still in this Chutzpah boat with me! Love you regardless xoxo 💋

https://okadabooks.com/book/about/the_road_less_travelled/47891

 

If at first you succeed…

Yesterday I did something I had never done before and was applauded by friends and family. By 7am this morning it was like yesterday had never happened. I was left with a clear head and memories, not to mention the niggling feeling that I had wasted my Sunday (and no it wasn’t me trying weed for the first time). 😂

I had a brain wave on Sunday morning. I decided to do my hair for my birthday. I haven’t done my hair since I left Nigeria. I have rocked one wig after another feeling cute with some other human’s hair and I thought it’d be nice to do braids for my birthday. I perished this thought when it dawned on me that hair that would cost N5000 in Nigeria would cost me north of 100 dollars (sometimes my brain considers the exchange rate). After a quick chat with one of my girlfriends, I decided to jump on the DIY bandwagon. I plaited my hair into 12 cornrows (crooked but who cared) and then proceeded to do crotchet braids after reading up on how to do them on the internet. It took me a while to get a hang of wielding the pin through my matted forest and I howled in pain more than once. Six hours later my hair was done (had some help from hubby doing the back of my head). I was so proud of myself.

I had learned a new skill, achieved a goal, saved some money and looked really good, all in a day’s work. I had dreams of doing more DIY exotic hairstyles and started browsing the internet for where I could get more crotchet stuff. Alas, my village people had gathered. I had just finished basking in the admiration by friends and family, relishing the fact that my very first attempt at hair styling was such a win and was cooling off with some grapes while I watched King of Boys part 2 on Netflix (amazing screen time) when I felt the twinge in my left arm. It felt like something was compressing my arm. I had ignored the fact that my hair felt like it weighed a ton and my neck had been suffering in silence while carrying a block of fine cement. By nightfall, I was restless. I had a headache and neck pain and my arms were numb. I couldn’t sleep, as I tossed and turned in bed I knew it was the hair but how could I strip myself of my trophy before I had packed all the accolades at work on Monday?

Around 4am I realized something shocking. I was putting what people would think about me above my health and happiness. It reminded me of the time I got thoroughly burned relaxing my hair. I kept telling the hairdresser I was ready to wash it off and she kept saying ‘aunty e neva done’. Na so she cook barbecue on top my scalp. I didn’t want to have to explain to all the people who had hailed me about my hair why it wasn’t working for me a few hours later. I didn’t want my hard work to waste. I muddled over these thoughts till my alarm went off and my mind was made up. Hubby and I sat loosening a 100 crotchet braids at 6.30am on a Monday morning with hubby doing his best Pete Edochie impressions, talking about palaces taking so long to be built and falling in the blink of an eye 🙄.

As soon as the weight was lifted I heaved a sigh of relief and was happy I had done what was right for me. But it got me thinking? How many times had success put pressure on me to keep on succeeding. How many times had I been stuck in a situation or circumstance because of what people would think? How many times had I refused to go on an adventure or adapt to changing circumstances because I had to keep up the status quo? Performance pressure is a real thing and most times it isn’t you against the world but you against the version of yourself that’s cold and critical. The Type A choleric you see in the mirror that often makes you forget that you would be as loved and as accepted even if you weren’t all that and a bag of chips.

If you see me rocking a wig for my birthday, know that this baby girl is happy, her head is not carrying load and she is embracing her strengths, her weaknesses, her ordinariness and her ability to do what’s best for her even when it’s less ambitious or unpopular. When next we see, ask me to show you the picture of my cute crotchet braids, they make a great dinner time story mostly because I get to remind myself that doing what’s best for me is important! When last did you do what was best for you? If at first you succeed, ensure your success never becomes a noose around your neck. Reject stress!

Have a great night Chutzpah fam! Xoxo

 

Early morning musings

It’s 5.30am and I have been awake for three hours already. I have swept, cooked spaghetti and chicken stew, drank a glass of milk and danced to Ron Kenoly’s first album. My eyes hurt though I’m in great spirits. Reminds me of the morning after dancing to my heart’s content at a club back in the day. I used to love dancing so much, especially when the gbedu enter body. Now I mostly dance in private since I have been certified a dancer with no skills by those whose sole aim in life is to do legwork!

I’m sitting in my new home in a new country and musing about my new life. Everything I left behind; my losses and gains. The friends and family I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye to and the life I’m slowly building each day. When I was a kid, I spent several hours wondering about the life the Von trapp family had to live when they crossed over the hills in the Sounds of music. I wondered if they were scared about the future or if they were okay because they had hope and each other. I wondered where they would live and if they would have as grand a life as they did back home. The short answer is no. Well maybe eventually but there would have been several bumps down the road as they sought to build a new life in a place they found peace.

There’s a certain bravery to starting over. It comes with a spoonful of uncertainty, laced with surprises and garnished with hope. It brings a newfound trust in God especially when your best laid plans don’t go exactly as imagined. It teaches you patience and grooms your perseverance. It’s as exciting as it is scary with as many wins as there are tears but isn’t that life generally? No greatness can be had within the confines of your comfort zone.

Today I encourage you to push boundaries and do that one thing that scares you, that thing you know within you that you must do. It’s destiny calling and a year from now you’ll be happy you took the first step.

Have a great day chutzpah fam!

P.S: I hope to blog a little more often from now on. Not even sure people still read blogs but I do love to write. Leave a comment if you still read blogs and would like to read more posts from me. Xxx

 

10 Awful Things that the World could do Without!

1. Losing a friend because he broke your girl’s heart and you had to pick a side.

#loyaltyorfriendship

2. Losing a lover because you wanted him to take you seriously and gave him an ultimatum.

#loveorperfection

3. Having to attend boring management meetings because you got promoted.

#boringormediocre

4. A lie being told about you in a place or manner that a rebuttal can never be made but impressions have been formed.

#badimpressionsoridgaf

5. Expecting you to play nice when someone says you should be thankful for a loss in your life because having that thing isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

#empathyorinsensitivity

6. Not knowing whether to keep quiet or speak your truth about a situation that could potentially escalate.

#nodramaorspeakyourtruth

7. Not being able to kiss your aged parents or grand parents because they could catch covid-19 and die.

#loveinthetimeofcovid19

8. Seeing the status updates of someone who used to be your very best friend and now he or she is just a stranger who knows all your secrets and is happy without you.

#indifferenceorhate

9. Being stuck in a relationship that makes you more sad than happy, just because of the optics.

#pictureperfectortrulyhappy

10. When you can’t give an elder or boss a piece of your mind because of that thing called respect.

#respectorboundaries

What awful thing should be added to this list?

While you are thinking of a time when you felt awful about one of the things above, also think about the person or people who have been on the receiving end of your awfulness. Let’s try to live by these 3 principles:

1. Be kinder to one another.

2. Live your truth; makesure your choices make you genuinely happy. It’s your life not theirs.

3. Look at the bigger picture. A lot of things don’t make sense when you look at them in bits and pieces.

Stay safe Chutzpah fam! Some of you are working from home, or may be in self-isolation, while others continue life as they know it. Please remember to be kind. Do not hoard supplies, do not spread the covid-19 virus, maintain safe distances and proper hygiene and remember to say a prayer for the world.

Sending love and light your way!

 

Back breaking clarity!

Two days ago, I was standing by the open boot of my car in a pair of cute heels, chatting away while absent mindedly lifting and arranging the boxes for the office Christmas party which was the next day. Just then, my village people struck! I twisted my back to an angle so I could lift and push an unruly box to the other side of the trunk when I felt the worst pain of my life and I howled like Tom getting a classic whooping.

I tried to stand up straight and the right part of my back hurt, I saw stars like literally. I walked painfully to the driver’s side and lowered myself gingerly into my seat, taking deep breaths while the sweat which had suddenly appeared threatened to blind me as it gushed down from my forehead in waves.

‘It’s probably a muscle strain or a sprain, take some painkillers and you’ll be fine’.

I nodded feebly as I put the car in reverse and started my homeward bound, very agonizing journey. You know how potholes can be vaguely annoying but quickly ignored when driving? Haa! Try driving with a bad back! It was bad enough that jolts of pain were shooting down my right leg and up my right arm as I stepped on the accelerator or turned the steering wheel to the right but those potholes had me screaming ‘Father Lord’. The pain was blinding and by the time I got home I was almost in tears.

I abandoned the baby girl life, kicked off my heels, managed to drag my handbag out of the car and limped to my bedroom. I have heard stories about lying flat on the floor when you have back pain but the thought of contorting my body enough to lower me to the floor filled me with palpable fear, I picked the bed and lay very still. Soon the pain passed and the sweating reduced and as my breathing became more regular, I picked up my phone with ‘kangaroo hands’ cos maami was afraid to stretch lest the pain returned. I actually thought I was getting better till I felt the insane urge to pee and tried to gingerly get up only to be rudely reminded that my body was not werking oh! I only had two options, pee in the bed or get to that loo no matter what!

Damn! I started thinking about the recent episodes of ‘Bob hearts Abishola’ and how Bob’s energetic mum had been dealing with being bedridden, started thinking about the story of ‘Sinbad and the old man of the sea’ and how Mr B would just be carrying me on his head everywhere! Then I thought about all the differently abled heroes I knew, the men and women who had learned to live their best lives regardless of their circumstances and a new respect for them rose within me. I thought of the zanku I hadn’t learned to dance yet and how I wanted to try the kizomba dance.

I thought about how I used to sway them hips and how I’d been reduced to walking like one of the old women in ‘Tales by moonlight’. I looked around furtively for something classy that I could use as a stick! I thought about how at 35, my baby girl life was being threatened into early retirement. Then finally I thought about my collection of heels!

‘No sweet Jesus, I cannot be subjected to wearing flats for the rest of my life please.’

Anyone who knows me, knows I’m crazy about shoes. I could already count at least four people who’d gladly come and share my heels assets with aplomb! Someone in University used to call me ‘height + heels’. Lol! Well some of us wanna touch the sky.

Sigh…I snapped out of my reverie, me that cannot even touch the edge of the bed in my current situation. Chei!

I made it to the loo and I could almost hear the furniture cheering me on as I took each pained step. Needless to say, I didn’t sleep all night and I couldn’t even toss and turn oh, just laid there like a log of wood, praying that cockroach would not choose tonight of all nights to climb me. Only had paracetamol at home and that didn’t even scratch the surface.

The next day, some dude who needed a favor at work woke me up with his calls, when I sent him a message that I was ill and my colleague would sort it out, he just replied ‘ok’. I rolled my eyes at the sms, what happened to ‘sorry’ and ‘get well soon’ and ‘take care’. World people! Anyway an alarmed colleague suggested I do an Xray and scared the living daylights out of me with her worst case scenarios. She wanted me to get to work immediately. Did I mention I work in another state? There was no way I was gonna brave at least a hundred potholes just to go get an Xray so I called the Orthopedic surgeon at work and described in great detail my symptoms, the location etc. He promised to send me a prescription and that I could do the Xray later.

That’s how yours truly was placed on several strong meds, one of which made me feel woozy from time to time. Ordered for some food, meds, company (my girl G) via my phone and even had that awkward moment where I was waving to the girl who brought the food, she was standing at the gate and I was trying to get her attention when some strange man in my neighbor’s house started waving back at me frantically. He was embarrassed and I was embarrassed, it would have been funny if I wasn’t in pain and wasn’t already dreaming of the rice, dodo and gizzard sauce I ordered.

Today is day 3 and I’m feeling almost good as new, I still can’t twist in certain angles though. I may even be able to attend Shiloh before it ends and who knows, be rocking heels by Christmas. Of course it helped a whole lot that Mr B returned from his trip and I could overexaggerate my pain and have him fawn over me abit! Don’t judge, nothing makes a princess all better like some pampering.

This incident gave me a whole new perspective about life and health. So many people have had their lives changed in an instant by a sudden illness or a dismal diagnosis or an unprecedented action and without forewarning or a backup plan. It’s tough, sometimes they have to be strong for their families even though all they want to do is fall apart. If you’ve ever been there or are currently in this situation I pray for strength for you, I pray for comfort and I pray for the will power to adapt, survive and thrive. Sending love and light your way…❤

If you have never been in this situation, don’t take your life or health for granted. Live your best life, have savings, investments and an insurance- nothing is too small and it’s never too late to start and be mindful of your health and activities. No one had ever warned me not to ‘lift and twist’ but after my back had issues I went online and bam! There it was all over the place! Warnings and more warnings and the degrees of injuries that could result from lifting and twisting. I think I was lucky, to be honest, it could have been much worse.

As Christmas draws nigh, please live life intentionally! Is your Christmas tree up yet? Mine is still in storage, Santa had better know I’m on bedrest, he should just nicely park the Lamborghini I asked for in front of my house and put the keys under the footmat. Daalu!

Have a great day Chutzpah fam,

Xoxo

 

Where is your tribe?

When I was in primary school, I wanted a team of friends like the popular Chinese movie ‘Seven lucky kids’. If you don’t remember it, call me aunty, I insist!

But my friends never wanted to be a tribe. One of them even pushed K, causing her to break her arm because instead of understanding that I would love all of them equally, my friend F, saw K as her replacement and didn’t take kindly to it.

In secondary school, I wanted a group of friends like the Spice girls but my friend M was quite possessive, well according to reports by the other potential members of the Spice girl group, my other friend A was not keen on letting other people past her three is a crowd philosophy.

In University, I thought a miniature sex and the city group of friends would be amazing but again there was a problem. Two of my closest friends could not see eye to eye on anything. So even though I have quite a number of SATC-like pics, the dramatic undercurrent sizzled from time to time.

I have always had lots of friends, and I love each one especially but my friends rarely got along and it made me wonder why for the longest time. I was the girl that each friend would tell a secret to and warn not to tell the other girls because they were my friends and not hers even though she tolerated their audio friendship and sometimes was actually quite into it.

It was draining but a part of me liked the attention. I felt like a rich Alhaji whose (four or more) wives couldn’t get along even though I had promised to love all of them equally. I wasn’t the perfect friend, I still royally suck at keeping in touch but when you are my friend I will bend over backwards for you if I have to, regardless of distance or time apart. I don’t joke with loyalty or friendship. It wasn’t until I read Tim Lahaye’s book that I realised that I was acting like a true sanguine (let’s ignore the choleric part of my ‘SANchol’ personality assessment for now).

The world tries to peddle three narratives where female friendships are concerned.

1. Women can’t be friends. We are too competitive, too back stabbing, too *insert other derogatory terms*.

This is absolute bullocks. If you are a woman and you believe this, you are either hanging with the wrong crowd or you need to check yourself- you just may be the problem! One bad experience is not enough to disqualify the entire female race.

2. The fakest sort of friendships are the tribes! Despite the travel together, attend events together, coordinate clothing and 4 way phone conversations, the women actually hate each other and gossip about each other and there’s always the queen bee, the underdog, the famzer and the Judas in the entourage!

Naaah fam, leave the movies out of real life. A meaningful friendship can exist amongst several women. There just needs to be shared interests, mutual trust, boundaries, honest communication, kindness, love and forgiveness and many women have tribes that actually work!

3. Three is a crowd. Women can only be friends in pairs. Once there’s a third person, two would always be closer and there would be backbiting, hurt feelings and somebody always feeling left out.

Not true. If this was true then tribes wouldn’t exist. No friendship is perfect, if you want it to work, you need to put in the work!

Here are three actual facts about friendship among women:

1. It’s okay for there to be closer circles of friends within a big tribe.

It’s okay for two people to be closer to each other than everyone else but still be amazing friends to every one in the tribe. Remember that the larger a friendship circle is, the more complex the mashup of personalities, perceptions and opinions. This is mostly a good thing but it isn’t unexpected that friends with similar mindsets within the tribe or some other similarity would gravitate towards each other. Accept it, fighting it causes negative energy and discord within a tribe.

2. It’s necessary to know and set the rules of engagement for any friendship.

If you don’t like something, say it from the onset and reiterate it from time to time. If the person values you, they will act right and if they don’t, don’t be sentimental about moving. Passive aggression is the bedrock of beef. Don’t morph into a frenemy because your friend keeps jabbing at your wound albeit unconsciously. Also, be sensitive. Some people struggle with envy and on the other end of the spectrum, some people struggle with low self esteem which makes them continually boast about their achievements and material gains to cover up for secret inadequacies. Now imagine the disaster of a friendship if two women from either ends of this spectrum become BFFs? Our instincts do not go to sleep when picking friends, we just choose not to listen to them.

3. Fights, cat fights, cold wars and separations will happen.

Many women bear scars from previous friendships but here are two things you should know. The first is that this is not a reason to give up on female friendships. It’s just a mandate to be intentional about future friendships and test the waters before going all in. I actually pray about friendships before taking them to the next level because I’m a ‘stick with you through thick and thin’ kinda girl.

The second thing is to allow a small window in your heart for forgiveness. Remember that many times, discord is not entirely one person’s fault. If the person has matured and genuinely asks for forgiveness and wants another chance at the friendship, it could be because they miss the perks, access to your life or control (run from them) or because they have genuinely matured and miss the friendship (pause, reflect and maybe give it another go). I have this three strikes rule for friendship. After the third ‘how could she hurt me like this?’, I walk away. It feels like I have given the friendship my all and there is nothing left to give. This kind of walking away brings the sort of peace that evades you when you are keeping malice. There’s a finality to this one, closure as they say. I have only had to get to this final bus stop with two friends in my entire life and man, it wasn’t easy but the overwhelming peace I got after walking away was my assurance that it was the right thing to do.

My oldest friendship is 23 years old.

How old is your oldest (genuine, we are still in each other’s lives on a regular basis) friendship?

Back to tribes.

For centuries, tribes have been responsible for setting norms, coordinating behaviour patterns, setting standards for social interaction and defending individual members. If your tribe is successful, motivated, driven it would certainly rub off on you. If your friends live a phoney lifestyle or have questionable morals, that’s you babe, you can’t run away from that reputation. It’s a label by association so choose your labels wisely!

So where is my tribe?

I have several right now and I’m fully committed to all of them. It just occured to me that with the world being so mixed now (I’m half Auchi, half Isoko, 1/8th Hausa (one great grandmother), Bini by marriage, 1/2 Ibo (Ibusa- mother in law) and Yoruba by birth), I certainly can belong to more than one tribe! 😊

You can too.

When you have genuine friends, labels don’t matter. When you learn to keep the secrets told to you in confidence and learn to treat others as you would want to be treated, female friendships become easier, less complicated, less draining and of course, every grown woman knows how to spot bullsh*t a mile away, so you end up with less toxic friends and less frenemies because frankly, nobody gat time for that!

To have a friend, you’ve gotta be a friend

Have a great day Chutzpah fam,

Identify your tribe this Christmas and hold them close! ❤

Every woman needs a woman or women in her circle. Don’t joke with your support system!

 

Accountability Isn’t Chocolate

I have struggled with inordinate affections for chocolate for some time now. Chocolate isn’t good for me. I could write a long list of the reasons why but time and time again I’d smell its tantalizing scent and gaze upon its well chiselled angles and I’d lose my will and resolve.

It got really bad and I had to tell one of my friends about it. Babe out of love still allowed me indulge a little bit yet she’d give her fair share of warnings to fulfil all righteousness.

Chocolate was giving me drama and yet like a parasite I couldn’t shake it off. One day I looked at myself in the mirror and I couldn’t recognize the person on the other side. She had become needy, jumpy, desperate for a sweet treat, tolerating rubbish just for a moment of sweet sublime. I didn’t like her. I didn’t admire her.

Chocolate definitely didn’t deserve such human adoration or reliance so I got myself a confessor. I picked carefully this time. Found a no nonsense health junky who thought chocolate was the devil! He was brutal, blunt and bold. He spelt it out to me in plain English, sucked out the romance and left me with a toothache. I couldn’t fault him because deep down I knew he was telling the truth. I decided to do better, no candy could hold me down. I started my 12 steps out of chocolate addiction. I was determined. Baby steps I said. I saw remarkable improvements in a short time. Alas it made me cocky.

I began to look disrespectfully at the miniature chocolate bars, eyeing them with disdain. Wondering how I ever let them get the best of me. I was wiser, smarter, too amazing for such filth. I pitied the lesser humans who hadn’t been able to shake off chocolate. I imagined my life free of all encumberances and couldn’t wait to be pronounced fully cured…

I bought some chocolate the other day. Naah don’t worry, I’m good. It was for my niece. I chuckled at a chocolate commercial, naah don’t worry I’m good, the commercial was really good. Last night I dreamed of chocolate. Naah don’t worry, it was a lingering memory but today I saw a really nice pic of a chocolate bar. The one that makes you want to prance into a candy store and I put it up for the world to see and gbam!, into my life with much aplomb came my two accountability partners. We are watching you they said. I blushed with embarrassment and tried to make jest of it. Naah don’t worry I’m fine. The joke was lost on them. Not a smile, their shoulders still stiff. You promised you wouldn’t embrace the darkness again they said. I remembered my promise. I didn’t want to embrace the dark, richness that often turned sour in my mouth but then I saw where I was, standing very close to the precipice. I was on the edge and I didn’t even know it. The familiar had crept up on me and almost entrapped my emotions the same way it had before. I hadn’t slain my dragons, I had merely chained them and they had somehow lured me beyond the safety of the chains and into their den. I needed the reminder, I desperately needed the wake up call. I wasn’t cured, I was in remission from an addiction that still lurked in the shadows. I looked at my friends with tears in my eyes, my accountability partners. Not all heroes wear capes…#grateful

 

Sisterhood of the traveling bras

It’s been a hectic 12 hours and I finally got comfy 3 hours ago. Well not too comfy because the chairs are hard and I am stuck for another couple of hours at the Dubai airport enroute my final destination.

I always wear jeans and a comfy top with a jacket for long trips, guess it’s the sensible attire for travellers. However this trip, I wore a strapless bra I had bought on my last trip to DC and the bra was giving me all shades of drama. By the tenth hour I felt like my bra and I had gotten into a fight and she was winning.

I was cranky, uncomfortable, held at ransom by a beige push up and almost believing I was gonna suffocate so I did the only logical thing. I stepped into the bathroom, removed the offending piece of underwear, heaved a sigh of relief and walked out a free woman. Bra safely tucked into my handbag.

It was 4am in the morning so I was gonna pretend I didn’t see the middle aged white lady gasp when I stretched out my hands to wash them and my chest peeked out from the straight confines of the side of my jacket- bulbous, bouncy and unashamed. Perhaps a nipple winked at her but who cares it was 4am like I said and the breasts still had two layers of clothing between them and the world so I shrugged and smirked and walked out of the bathroom- a renegade was born!

Now what made this experience epic? I began to take notice of lots of women in my ermm predicament. If you are an avid people watcher like I am, you’ll be surprised at the number of braless women at an airport. You can’t blame them, sometimes wearing a bra for a very long flight can be akin to wearing stilletoes and trekking! Awful and unnecessary besides no ones knows you there except for your travel companions and immigration!!!

So here are 3 life nuggets to glean from the sisterhood of the travelling bras:

1. The little things matter- many times we plan for the big events but it may be the little ones that get us in a pickle. Pay attention to details.

2. If you can fix the problem, fix it! Caring more about how you are perceived rather than what makes you happy and able to live a full, free life is no way to live.

3. You are never alone in a situation. Once you take a leap of faith you’ll be more than pleased to know you didn’t jump alone. You just didn’t notice them earlier because you were operating on different wavelengths!

Have a great day Chutzpah fam,

xoxo

 

Indifference…

A powerful but understated emotion.

 

The Little Finger Phenomenon

Have you ever sensed that a person may not be all they seem to be? That behind the smile lies a lurking darkness that you can’t quite figure out?

Have you ever felt your instincts kick you in the guts every time a certain person assures you of their loyalty or friendship but you try hard to ignore the ill-feeling?

Have you ever felt like someone you trusted could stick a knife in your back if given the opportunity or would bring you down in a heartbeat if they had the chance?

Have you ever felt a persistent unease around a certain person, the kind of unease that only grows the moment you start divulging classified info or things too personal to share with someone who truly doesn’t have your back?

Don’t suppress the flight or fight emotion, the outcome could be deadly!

At one of my old workplaces there was a woman who was always hanging around me and her words and body language showed she was interested in a more meaningful friendship but I couldn’t shake off the niggling doubts I had deep down. We became acquaintances and as time went by I learned to block out the unease. One day she comes to report a close colleague to me and said a lot of horrible things about the person trying to get a response out of me. As I opened my mouth to speak I saw her hand working very deftly on her phone and my instincts start screaming ‘DANGER’. Of course, she wasn’t looking at me cos her eyes were fixated on whatever she was doing. I leaned over the table and saw her activating the voice recorder. She looked up suddenly and caught my eye and the guilt in her eyes finally cleared every doubt I had ever had. I asked her why on earth she would want to record one part of a private discussion without my consent especially about such a sensitive topic. I walked her out of my office and the charade ended that instant.

What if she had succeeded? She would have messed up my reputation and my friendship with the other colleague without roping she and her inciteful comments in. Sometimes we never actually realise the reason for the uneasiness with certain people. However, it’s safe to say that if your head keeps telling you to be careful and you don’t have a history of paranoia, you should take it seriously.

I call it the ‘Little Finger Phenomenon’. Little Finger in the Game of Thrones Series was my most hated villain because he seemed so helpful and charming and was able to gain the trust of unsuspecting people only to advance his selfish ambitions without caring who he hurt or who he ruined. He did get his comeuppance but at what cost?

Jealousy, ambition, competitiveness, hate, obsession and bitterness are some of the emotions that can trigger your instincts about another person. The negative energy is often hard to ignore by the subconscious mind. So people, today I am asking you to screw the dictates of polite society by not accommodating anyone who constantly makes you uneasy. Keep a more than respectful distance and let your words be few because ultimately you are better safe than sorry!

Have a good day Chutzpah fam,

xoxo