My Papou

Papou means 'granddad' in Greek. This is a pretty emotional post for me and I guess I'm writing it just so I can express just how I feel about him, even if he won't read it. Papou is technically my step-granddad. My mum's dad died when she was at university so I never met him. My parents moved to Kaduna after they got married and that's where I was born. My Yaya (grandmother) spent a lot of time in Nigeria because that's where her daughter and granddaughter were and it was around this time my dad introduced her to Spyros (Papou), a Greek Cypriot who had spent most of his adult life in Nigeria. They hit it off and have been together ever since.

Papou came from a good family in Cyprus but in those days, only children that demonstrated great academic potential were sent to university and in his family, that person was his brother. Long story short, unsure of what to do with his future, he accepted a job to go and work in Nigeria. I think he was about 18. And he stayed there for the next 35 or so years. I wish I had listened more closely when he would tell us all about his experiences but I guess I just thought we would always be able to hear them again. Now he doesn't remember.

He has always says he spent the best years of his life in Nigeria and reminisces about the hunting, and the parties, the women and the friends. We have so many amazing memories with him and Yaya. They probably feature in all our defining childhood memories because we spent most of our holidays with them and any child will tell you that the school holidays are the absolute best times of childhood. I love Zaria because they lived there, and I love fishing because Papou would take us fishing, I love Xilocastro (where my grandmum has her beach home in Greece) because it's where I go walking with Papou and where I accompany them to the Laiki Agora (the market) to buy the fruit and veg for the week. It is where he swims really far out to sea that I start to follow and then get scared and swim furiously back out while trying to figure out how I'll save him if a shark appears. Our garden in Kaduna looked forward to his visits because he'd plant entire crops that I'd never heard of - Radishes for example - and tend to the crop he'd planted on his last visit. He was such an avid gardener. In fact, when he 'retired' in Nigeria, he became the manager of a huge farm halfway between Kaduna and Zaria where we'd go and visit him in his office and spend the day wandering around the farm, exploring the dams and playing around in his Range Rover; you know, one of the old fashioned ones where the back was open and only covered by a canvas sheet. I used to love riding in the back of that truck.

About four years ago, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and after the initial rapid deterioration of his memory, it has more or less stabilised now but he still forgets so much. For a week up until Kitty's wedding, whenever anyone mentioned the wedding, he would ask, 'Wedding, what wedding? Who is getting married?' And my mother, who believes that it is better to make him use his memory rather than give him the answers, would reply, 'you tell us, who is getting married?’ Funnily, he would always say Gavin's name first and only after more prodding would he remember that Gavin was marrying our Kitty. Then he'd complain that no one had told him about the wedding and no one tells him anything anymore. A week after the wedding, he had forgotten all about it and again the questions started 'what wedding?' It's been really sad to see the change in him, because where he was once a vibrant, very outdoorsy man who loved to read, he is now content to sit quietly and listen to what is going on around him.

But the changes haven't been all bad. He has really mellowed and is just the sweetest man you could ever have the opportunity to meet. He's always eager to please everyone and make everyone feel at home. He is simply amazing! And our relationship hasn't changed. I have a well documented sweet tooth which Yaya has always been very happy to cater to it. Papou also has a sweet tooth and has spent a lifetime teasing me. Yaya makes the best ice cream in the world (I'm not lying, Ben & Jerry's has nothing on her!) and she would make it whenever we came to visit her as children. Papou would tell me that when we went to bed, he would wake up and eat all the ice cream. With a furrowed brow and worry written all over my face, I'd go and confide in Yaya and ask her to please keep an eye on him in the night. Whenever we see each other or talk now, I say that my Yaya has made me Pasta Flora (a Greek pastry and his favourite) but that I'm not sharing it with him. And he'll counter by saying that since his wife made it, it belonged to him and he definitely wouldn’t be giving me any. Back and forth we go like that until one of us says 'Ori o da'. I have no idea how you spell it and even exactly what it means, I just know it's a Yoruba insult. Then the other will reply 'Ori o fo' and so we'll make our way through the 'Ori o' insults and end with 'Oloshi' then we'll laugh and one of us will report the other to my mum or Yaya. I love that even though he's forgotten so much, he still remembers our banter.

I really miss who he used to be but I love who he has become even more.

My Best Friend's Wedding Update

The wedding was amazing ... My lovely cousins Suby and Sinem were there with their cameras snapping away and here are some of their photos on http://suby.shutterchance.com/

I'll post a couple of mine at some point but they're not half as good as Suby and Sin's!

Just like I predicted, I cried at the registry on Friday - they got married in a castle in Shrewsbury and because they do not attend the local church, they couldn't legally get married there, they could only have a blessing. My relatives from Greece, my immediate family and a couple of her friends were at the registry and when we were all asked to stand up as they walked in, I welled up a bit but I managed to get a grip on myself. They said their vows and it was pretty funny at times because they all had to say my sisters name about three times during the ceremony; she has a Greek middle name, and a Nigerian middle name and surname and it is a bit of a mouthful and Gavin struggled with it every time so we all laughed. Then at the end, they started playing that song that they play at a lot of weddings when the bride walks down the aisle; the classical track that Coolio sampled on 'C U when you get there'. If anyone knows what it is called please tell me because I can't remember for the life of me what it is called. Anyway, that just got me started again and I was discreetly dabbing the tears from my eyes when my aunt seating next to me started sniffing too. Then Kitty's friends sitting in front of me heard us sniffing, looked round, and then went 'awww, are you okay?'. That got the tears flowing even more and everyone turned around to look at us ... Gavity (my celeb moniker for them as a couple) even laughed at me. Then the next morning, I was telling Kitty about my dad's friend who was coming up from London. He had decided to leave London at 6:30 and he was telling us that he kept waking up during the night so that he wouldn't oversleep. I was telling her just so she would know how much it meant to a lot of people that they were invited to be a part of her day and the thought of how far people had come overwhelmed me and I started tearing up again to cries of 'Not again Vickii!' from Kitty and the other bridesmaids.

I was fine on the saturday though. But then after all her make up and hair, as we walked down the stairs to go to the church, Kitty suddenly welled up and she was waving her hand in front of her eyes so that she wouldn't cry. You'll all be glad to know that I saved the moment though by saying 'boo boo boo' (don't ask, I just wanted her to stop crying so she would get to the church on time)!

It was such a beautiful ceremony and such a fun day! Honestly I've never seen all my aunts and uncles dance like they did in the night, some of them have some moves! And Gavity had an amazing time and were very happy by how it all turned out ... it was a beautiful wedding!

My Best Friend's Wedding

My gorgeous younger sister is getting married this Saturday! (Don't you dare tell her I called her gorgeous ... I'll deny it!). On the day of their wedding, her and Gavin would have been together for 2 years and she turns 24 a couple of weeks after the day. People always mention how young she is to be getting married but Kitty has always wanted to get married young. We want a lot of the same things in life; to travel, a career we love, but while I've always wanted to do certain things before I settle down, she has always maintained that she wants to share all the most important and exciting events in her life with someone else. So to me, she isn't too young, she has been ready for a while. And Gavin is amazing! My sister can be stubborn and challenging at times, and years ago I had predicted that she would (or should) end up with someone just like Gavin and I honestly can't think of anyone I would rather marry my sister than him.

Her name is actually Christiana but when we were children, we couldn't pronounce each other's names so my parents shortened them to Vickii and Kitty. Over the following years, she was called everything from Kitty Kitty bang bang (because she always seemed to be breaking something or getting into trouble) or Kitty Kat Copy Cat (because she liked to do everything I did). Our relationship has evolved rather interestingly over the years. When we were younger and we both used to live at home, we were always arguing, then I went away to university and we got along much better because we didn't live together. She came to the same university as me and that was great because we lived near each other but not together, so we would hang out a lot, go out together on Friday nights and generally enjoy each other's company but not annoy each other. I'd say it's more or less the same now, we get along really well but when we go on holiday together, it only takes a few days before we argue about something. I think it's her but she'd probably say it was my fault! I can have more fun with her than anyone else and we're very similar in a lot of ways but she can wind me up like no one else can in literally a matter of seconds, I think she's got it down to an art by now. Those times, I wonder how we're related because all I can see is the differences between us. However Kitty can be so generous, it’s actually unbelievable. She’ll give away something of great value if she thinks you need it without so much as batting an eye. And she will insist you take it. She can be a much better woman than me.

We always laugh about the fact that people can't seem to tell us apart. People that know us both will tell you we look nothing like each other, we have completely different features and apart from the colour of our skin, I can't think of much that we have in common physically. But the number of times people have asked if we are twins is unbelievable. At school, people would sing the theme tune from the TV show 'Sister Sister' when we were walking together and at university, someone would come up to one of us and start having an in depth conversation while we'd be racking our brains trying to figure out on which alcohol fuelled night we'd met them. Then the person would say 'our name' and then we'd realise that they thought I was Christiana or that she was me. And this has happened several times! Honestly, we really don't look alike! She threatens to cut my hair off in the middle of the night because it's always been longer than hers and I've always begrudged her amazing figure, and I don't begrudge it because its amazing but because my sister eats more than anyone you will ever meet (She lived with four boys and they used to call her 'serves four' because she could out-eat all of them) and does little exercise and yet she looks like she should be modelling lingerie.

I'm so excited about the wedding in the way that you can only be when someone that means the world to you gets married. I cried when she told me she was engaged and I guarantee I'll shed a few tears all over my pretty bridesmaid dress at the wedding. I don't know if she'll ever read this but Kitty I love you so much and I can't tell you how happy I am that you've found someone so perfect for you to spend the rest of your life with. I pray you'll be truly happy! I can't wait for the wedding and you really need to re-think that 5 year hiatus before giving me nieces and nephews.

Have a great weekend everyone because I will, and if you guys are really good, I might post up a couple of pictures from the wedding.

Emotional Infidelity vs. Actual Cheating

Sticking with the topic of infidelity since it's obviously such a controversial one, I have an interesting conundrum for you. Which is worse, emotional infidelity or actual cheating?

We all know what actual cheating is - sleeping with someone else, kissing, basically crossing whatever physical boundaries a couple have agreed in their relationship. Just so we're all on the same page as to what constitutes emotional infidelity, let me give you a little scenario. Ross and Rachel (sorry, those are the first names that came to mind) have been together about three years and there's no doubt for either of them that they're with the person they want to spend the rest of their lives with. Rachel has just had a promotion at work so she's working late and working weekends and when she's not working so hard, she's so exhausted that she either wants to stay at home and sleep or when she's with Ross, she's not much company. This has been going on for about a month and a half.

The company Ross works for is also going through some major changes and there's a lot of pressure on all the employees. One day after work, a bunch of them go to the pub and Ross spends a lot of time talking to a colleague called Hannah. He's always thought she was a nice woman but they'd never really spent any time together. For whatever reason, tonight they get talking and they spend the whole night venting their frustrations about the company and making fun of their colleagues. Over the next couple of weeks, they start going for lunch together and go out occasionally after work with other co-workers. They're always IMing at work, they have in jokes and soon they're sharing the details of their personal lives with each other. They cheer each other up after a particularly hard day at work and they can tell what the other is thinking simply by looking at their face. Rachel's work hours are becoming slightly more normal and she and Ross are spending more time together but when Ross's beloved Chelsea loses a game, the first person he thinks to tell is Hannah, not Rachel. And it's Hannah's opinion he asks for when he's thinking of changing his mortgage provider, and it's her he spends hours venting to when his parents decide to separate after 35 years of marriage. They're both attractive people so it's only a matter of time before they start to fancy each other and Ross starts to wonder if he's with the wrong person. In this particular scenario, nothing ever happens between them.

Is that worse than if Ross had gotten drunk one night and kissed/slept with his ex girlfriend/co-worker/random woman?

For me, emotional infidelity would be much more hurtful than if he had slept with someone else. Partly because I know that realistically at some point (in fact, several points) in a relationship, both parties will be attracted to other people, it's inevitable, people don't stop being attractive just because you're in love. But I believe that the things that would set me apart from the other women are our shared experiences, his feelings for me as a person and the relationship we've built. I guess I'm naive enough to believe that as long as he values all of those things, then I'll always be set apart from other women and it is this that will stop him from cheating on me. That's why it would hurt me so much more to know that he's shared newer, more fun experiences with someone else, and he finds her funnier or smarter or sweeter than me, and he feels something for her that is based on much deeper than just physical. Now here's the conundrum. Even though that would hurt me more, I'd forgive emotional infidelity and if he wanted to work on our relationship then I'd do everything in my power to work on it and make it right again. But I wouldn't forgive physical infidelity even though in some ways, it's the lesser of two evils for me. Does that make sense?

I think it’s because there is an innocence about emotional infidelity. It’s often one of those situations that you’re in before you even realise it. While as far as I’m concerned, whichever way I look at it, if a guy cheated on me, it means he put his needs before my feelings.

What do you guys think? Which would you find harder to forgive? Why?

She is Loving Him Still

Trying to push the past away
Still waiting for the lights to change
She tries, tries for the sake of their pride, pride
Learning to barely feel the pain
Thicker the skin the less the strain
And though it's really hurting
She ain’t breaking, breaking, breaking
Coz she's loving him still, after all this time

Now he knows his weakness shows
Selfish soul, never changing
That's fine, because she's loving him still
After all this time

(Lyrics from 'After All this Time' - Simon Webbe)

Okay so I guess I should confess right about now that I was a fan of the boy band 'Blue'. But this post isn't about me confessing to all the pop music I love - Backstreet Boys 4 Eva! Okay on a serious note, I'm not into the solo stuff from the ‘Blue’ boys but I've loved this song since the first time I heard it. And the lyrics really challenged a deep seated belief I've always held.

See, I've always thought (rightly or wrongly) that women who stayed with men that cheated on them were either stupid or dumb or both. The song isn't about a guy who cheats, at least not explicitly. It was written about Simon's grandmother and it's about a woman who has been through a lot with her husband. He's selfish and has hurt her time and time again over the years and yet she stays with him. More importantly though, she continues to love him.

I had heard the song a few times before the lyrics sunk in and got me thinking. I have heard so many explanations and justifications for why women stay with cheating men but they had never changed my feelings about the women. In my mind, they just aren't strong enough to change their situation. I have to admit that this song doesn't make me stray from my assertion that the second I know a guy is cheating on me, I'm out the door. But it did make me think that maybe these women aren't weak and stupid like I first thought. After all, the only difference between relationships that last forever and those that don't is that some people refuse to let their marriages fail. Some people take their vows so seriously that they'll fight to keep them till the very end. How can that be weak? These people are strong ... warriors. In the same way, women who know that their husbands are having/have had affairs, and choose to put up with the humiliation, and insecurity, and hurt because they when they said 'till death do us part', they meant it, deserve my admiration not my contempt and pity. Because they're stronger and more unselfish than I'll ever be in this respect.

PS: I think it’s fair to say some people shouldn’t have ever gotten together in the first place and in that case, I think it’s actually more admirable for them to acknowledge the fact and cut their losses.

Another PS: I'm not talking about the women who turn a blind eye to the cheating and pretend it's not happening and will fight anyone who even dares to suggest otherwise because you can’t fight for something if you don’t admit it’s happening in the first place. I'm referring to the women who see their husbands for who they really are, warts and all, and are not afraid to fight for what they believe they deserve in their marriage, but in spite of all this, they have a one track minded belief that marriage is forever.

Yet Another PS: I might contradict myself at times and that’s because I’m not completely clear about my feelings on issue.

What do you all think? This should be interesting because I've heard it expressed by several women that all men cheat and that as long as he's discreet about it and it doesn't happen to often, we should thank our lucky stars and accept it.

Robin Thicke!!!

I went to see Robin Thicke with some friends at the Jazz Cafe last Wednesday. He was late. The doors opened at 7pm and he didn't come out till 9:40pm even though we know for a fact that he was in the building the whole time because my friends had seen him outside when they arrived. It's fair to say that by the time he came on stage, the crowd was a bit disgruntled to say the least but the fact that by the end of his first song, we had all forgiven him for his lateness should give you some indication of how amazing his performance was.

Honestly, I've seen a couple of really great performers live but Robin Thicke was by far the best! He has such a great energy on stage and even though he put on a great performance (very raunchy at times with his hands straying down towards his crotch during 'Teach you a lesson'), his voice didn't suffer at all. You know how you can tell that people are singing live by the fact that their voices don't sound as polished as they do on records? Well there was none of that here. His voice was pitch perfect at all times and in my opinion he sounds even better live on some songs that he does on his records. I loved hearing him sing my favourites and he made me like even the songs that I deemed average SO MUCH MORE! My favourite performances were 'Shooter', 'Angel', 'Wanna love you girl (he did Pharell's rap and I thought he was pretty good' and 'Teach you a lesson'.

My one gripe with him apart from him being late? He didn't sing 'Superman' or 'I need Love'; my favourite songs on the album. Otherwise, it was an experience that I can't wait to repeat! Plus he had a cute bassist; Greg - the first picture above.

Why I’m Single…

A couple of weeks ago I went out with this guy I had met a few months ago. We went to the cinema to see 'The Illusionist', then went for a drink at a Yate's bar that we ended up leaving because the music kept getting louder and louder until we couldn't hear ourselves. Then we went to Starbucks, had a couple of hot chocolates with whipped cream and then we got the tube to my stop where he waited for me to get on my bus before he went off to get his bus. He is a really great guy; good looking, smart, ambitious, he's got a similar sense of right and wrong as I do and we echo a lot of each other's thoughts. So how come I don’t want to be anything other than friends.

I just had a text from this guy who I met about 9 months ago at a party. He's a friend of a friend and we got along really well that night. He's very sarcastic and cheeky like I am, and he was really generous, putting all our drinks on his tab. I got an email from my friend the Monday morning after I met him saying that I'd made quite an impression on him and he was asking her for my number. I wasn't interested and somehow she got the message across to him. Our paths crossed again a couple of months ago at her birthday party and once again, we got along really well. A couple of weeks later I bumped into him at my tube station. A month after that, I once again bumped into him at my tube station and he asked me for my number. Now, I'm really bad at making it clear to someone at the asking for my number stage that I'm not interested. I just think it's really presumptuous of me to go, 'obviously you fancy the pants off me which is why you're asking for my number. There's no way you could be possibly interested in just being friends because I'm that hot so sorry, no, you can't have my number because I'm not interested'... you get the point. So I gave him my number. A couple of weeks after that I bumped into him at Green park tube station (fate or what?). He called to ask me if I wanted to go to the cinema and maybe dinner and I said yes but realised that I had made other commitments so I cancelled. He's funny, intelligent and has a great job and all I want to be is friends.

A few days ago, I met up with this guy I know who recently moved to Austria. He was in town for the weekend and told me a while ago so I'd make some time to hang out with him. I met him at a party late last year when he still lived in London but due to his 'player' reputation, I refused to give him my number and didn't call him when he gave me his card and asked me to call him. I saw him a couple of months later at another party and he was really sweet and very attentive. Each time he walked past me, or I walked past him, he would make sure he stopped to say something, anything to me. And later, when we all moved on some dingy club packed with So Solid Crew wannabies, he offered to drive me home. We've stayed in touch over the months, bumped into each other at parties and the like in Lagos, and he's always made it pretty clear he likes me and he's always been really sweet to me. My official line for why I won't get involved with him is because I think he's too much of a player. Unofficially? Hmmm, I’m not sure.

I think my point is that I know (and have known) a lot of amazing guys. Guys that I wouldn't hesitate to fix my very best friends with, but when it comes down to it, I never give them a chance and I have no idea why that is. Actually, that's a lie; I know why it is ... I'm very afraid of commitment. And I've narrowed down the reason for my commitment phobia to a couple of reasons. The first is that I'm very happy with the way my life is at the moment and I'm scared of it changing. The second is that I'm scared of the lack of choice that comes with having a boyfriend ... what if I miss out on the love of my life because I'm dating someone?

And it’s not that I can’t see the advantages of being in a relationship … I really would like to be in a relationship. It’s just that every time I’m with someone where there is potential for something to happen, I panic and start to think of all the reasons why I don’t want to be tied down. Maybe I just haven’t met the right person …

I am no longer on a diet!

Sorry guys, this is such a girly post but it might give you some insight into how women feel about their bodies.

I'm no longer on a diet! Most girls I know, even those ones who seem to be effortlessly slim, have some hang-up about their bodies. Most of us just want to be a bit slimmer. I have been on a diet more or less since I was about 16. Name it, I've tried it. The Cabbage soup diet, Atkins, Slim Fast, the Cambridge diet, Weight Watchers ... the list is endless. If you'd like to know, the Cambridge diet is the most effective but it's hard core and I think you have to be at that point where you're very desperate to do something about your weight before you can commit to it. On the plus side, it's a nutritionally balanced plan. And my personal fav has to be WW because it gives you such a healthy and well balanced approach to food. It's the only diet that I ever committed to as a life style change without balking. If I've learnt anything, it's that crash diets are stupid, you will put the weight on again because ultimately you haven't learnt anything so eventually, your old habits will return and the weight will creep on again pound by pound.

At my heaviest, I was about a stone and a half heavier than I am now and that is a lot for me because I'm not particularly tall. At my slimmest, I was about a stone lighter than I am now and in my mind that's my ideal weight. For as long as I can remember, I've been dieting in an attempt to get down to this 'ideal', I've only ever reached it once (and that was because I was ill and didn't eat for 4 days) and my biggest motivation for reaching it has been the thought that when I get to my ideal weight, I'll be able to eat what I want and not have to diet anymore. So I've been dieting so I can get to a point where I no longer have to diet. A bit like working your a*se off to get a stage where you no longer have to work. The other day I was out with a couple of friends who I've been friends with since uni and as usual, the conversation turned to our weight and I said, 'to be honest, if I stay the weight I am now and I don't lose any more weight, I'll be fine' and as I said it, I realised I meant it. And when I realised I meant it, I thought, 'aren't diets for people who are trying to lose weight? If I'm not particularly bothered, why am I still dieting?' I still don't have the perfect figure but I think I've embraced my shape a bit more; I'll always have big hips and a big bum and I've actually learnt to quite like them.

The other reason for my new found body confidence is running. Thanks to London Buki's 'I will be fit' blog, I started running last September when I could just about run for 2 minutes before collapsing in a heap. Now I run three times a week, including a long run on the weekends; the last couple of weekends it's been a 12 km run. Buki and I are doing a couple of 5k charity races which by the way you can sponsor me for. If you would like to sponsor me for one of the races, check out my Race for Life and Sue Ryder Care sponsorship pages. Don't you just love that shameless plug! We're also going to do a couple of 10k races, a 10 mile race, and my ultimate goal is to do a half marathon by the end of the year. So the fact that I'm constantly pushing my body to limits I never thought I was capable of, and the fact that I feel so strong and so healthy makes me proud of my body and I guess that offsets any negative opinions I might have about how I might look. The long and short of it is that I'm no longer dieting until I have a real reason to diet, and hopefully that won't be until I've started popping out babies, which won't be for a while.

Now I'm not saying I'm going to go around eating loads of stuff that I know is bad for me. No. The one thing I can say about all those years of dieting is that I know which foods are good for us and which aren't. I'll try and eat as much of the good stuff as I can and only eat the bad stuff in moderation. So I baked a chocolate mud cake yesterday and in the past, I'd have eaten loads of it yesterday (easily half the cake) and then refused to touch it from today. Instead I had a piece last night and today, along with my roast beef and tomato wrap that I made for lunch, I have also brought a small piece of cake with me. And I intend to enjoy every bite and have a piece every day until my housemates and I finish the cake.

While I’m perfectly happy with the size and weight I am now, I have to admit that I don’t want to put on weight so I’ll continue to weigh myself weekly and if
I find my jeans getting a bit on the snug side then I’ll maybe cut back on those slivers of chocolate cake or add another long run session to my week but I’m determined that it won’t be drastic and it’ll be healthy.

I can't tell you how liberating I feel knowing that I'm no longer on a diet! Now I’m off to research all those amazing recipes that I can cook and savour now that I’m no longer counting points, or carbs, or … mmmm, oven baked southern fried chicken, sounds good!

Another 35 sentences about Me

Dresses are my favourite type of clothing. Especially 50s style dresses. I would move to New York in a heartbeat. I want to settle down and have kids in Canada. I have 2 tattoos. I have a butterfly on the upper left hand side of my back and three stars on my left hip. My sister also has the same three stars on her left hip. I want a few more and the only reason I haven’t had them yet is because I don’t want to run out of good spots on my body to tattoo. I wrote my Undergraduate dissertation on feminism and porn. It was titled ‘Pornography: Men possessing women or freedom of expression?’ I have a Masters in International Business Law. I was a cheerleader for the basketball team in university. We were rubbish.

I think I’m a tomboy. I hardly ever wear make up and live in jeans and trainers. And yet, people tend to describe me as a girly girl. I don’t understand it. I am very secure about myself. My new year’s resolutions are to go to church more often, finish my book and run a half marathon this year. I’m doing well on the first one and the last one, but finishing my book? Hmmm. I have lots of different handwritings. I hate being centre of attention. I have a green belt in Karate. As a child, my parents made me take French, Piano and Guitar lessons. I really wanted to learn to play the violin. As soon as they gave us the choice to stop our lessons, I gave them all up. I wish I hadn’t. I’ve dressed up as a school girl, a sexy devil, an angel and a gangster for Halloween and fancy dress parties over the years. Oh, and my mum dressed me up as a hula girl for my first birthday party. My fashion icons are Nicole Richie, Rachel Bilson, Carmen Electra and Laura Bailey.

As children, my sister, brother and I would put on plays and shows to entertain guests. The cities I’ve visited other than places I’ve lived in are New York, Seattle, Vancouver, Victoria, Budapest, Rome, Paris, Madrid, Barcelona, Athens, Rhodes, Crete and Cairo. I’ve lived in Kaduna, Benin, Lagos, Sutton Coldfield (near Birmingham), Aberystwyth (Wales) and now, London. I have attended 8 schools over nursery, primary and secondary.

www.confused.com

So there's this guy ... he lives in Lagos and was in London for a couple of weeks on holiday. At first I only wanted to be friends and I genuinely thought he felt the same. In fact I was convinced that he thought I was cool to hang out with but he wasn't attracted to me, and I'd made my peace with that. But pretty soon, I realised that he liked me. I still thought I wanted to be just friends. We hung out while he was here, went for dinner, went to the movies, mostly just went for drinks where we'd talk about all sorts of things. He even brought flowers to my office on Valentines Day. And before everyone goes awww, it was more of an arrangement than anything else. He'd mentioned that he had never gotten anything on Valentine's Day before so I said I'd send him a card, and he said he'd send me one too. On Valentines Day, he sent me a text asking me for my office address and I started wondering why, only for him to stroll in a few hours later with a bunch of flowers. My theory is he forgot to send me a card the day before and panicked on the day and bought me flowers. I still thought it was sweet. I still wanted to be just friends.

I really enjoyed talking to him, and we'd talk about the kind of stuff that I don't really talk about with anybody else. And he said he told me things he didn't really talk about with other people. If he called and I didn't pick up my phone, he'd always call back and leave me a little jokey voicemail 'threatening' to only call me one last time and never again, or to ask me if we were 'beefing'. It was sweet. Soon, I'd find myself smiling when he's name flashed up on my phone, or when I heard his voice on my voicemail and I'd look forward to seeing him. I realised that I actually quite liked him and I was getting used to having him around. Oh, did I mention that he's extremely hot! Even though I decided I liked him, I still played it cool because I felt I never knew where I stood with him. So unless he asked me if I wanted to hang out, I wouldn't ask him and so on. It's funny because on his last weekend, he said he'd blown off his Friday plans to hang out with me, but he didn't tell me this. Instead he asked me what I was doing on Friday really conversationally and I told him I was busy. I was busy, kind of. I had had a load of late nights that week and really just wanted to go home and have a night in but obviously I would have blown that off for him but he didn't say 'oh, I was thinking we should hang out', so I didn’t find out until a couple of days later that he’d cleared his schedule for me.

Anyway, his last night came around way too quickly and he met me after work (and waited even though I was 30 minutes late because my phone had just been stolen so I had to get it cancelled and I didn't have his number to call and tell him I'd be late). He suggested we go to Trocadero and go on the bumper cars. We went twice and it was so much fun, there's something about fairground type rides that makes me feel like I'm 5 again! Then we walked past a bar in Piccadilly Circus and decided to go in for a drink. We just made the end of happy hour and we stayed there until about 10:30 drinking (2 jugs of Mai Tai, 4 tequila shots each - he gave me one of his slices of lemon when I dropped mine on the table, red wine for him) and then we went to another bar where I started drinking water because I was getting kind of tipsy and I had work the following day. It was the first time we kissed and it was nice.

I couldn't call him to say bye the next day because I didn't have a phone. A few days later when I got a new phone, I sent him a text saying hey, hope he got back okay; it was nice hanging out with him etc. He didn't reply. A couple of days after that I sent him an email just saying the same stuff and I mentioned that I'd sent him a text which he didn't reply to. He replied a couple of days later saying hi, reminiscing about his last night, how much we drank and how surprised he was that we were both relatively sober and said that next time, we'd have to get there at the start of happy hour. Then he told me a funny story about being back in Lagos and finished by saying 'miss ya babe'. I realised I did actually quite like him because the email totally made my day. I replied a couple of days later and that was the last I heard from him. I still can't figure it out ... is this one of those men are from mars, women are from Venus things? Any suggestions?

Their Love Story

I went away with my family a couple of weekends ago and over lunch; I heard the story of how my parents got together. Although I'd heard the story before, it was different this time. Firstly, because I got to hear the details. Also, it was the first time I'd heard my dad talk about it. Because both of my parents were present, my dad told the story and my mum interjected here and there so what follows is more or less a pretty accurate account. I think it's a very sweet story.

Athens, Greece ... sometime in the late 1970s.

She stood with her friend outside the door of the apartment where the party was taking place. Their host was her friend's brother. My dad opened the door and greeted his brother. Then he introduced himself to her and then announced to both of them, gesturing to her; 'This is the woman I'm going to marry'. He says he just knew. She glared at him, Who the hell does he think he is? She thought as she walked past him and into the party.

As fate would have it, over the next few years, they bumped into each other occasionally. He recalls driving down a main road one day and on seeing her walk past; he hastily parked his car and ran out to chat to her. He owned a fashion store and he saw her in there once and again made a point of talking to her. Every single time they spoke he would end the conversation by asking 'When are we going out?' She was always friendly and gracious towards him and her answer was always the same; 'Never'. She explains now that as well as the fact that she had a long term boyfriend, she had found herself very drawn to him from the beginning and believing that he was all wrong for her, she had made a conscious choice to avoid him. As time passed, her initial reservations were confirmed; he was a playboy (his words), seventeen years older than her (though she didn’t know this at the time because he has always looked younger than his age), he had a daughter and he was black. She was always polite but made it clear that there was no chance that anything would happen between them.

A couple of years after they met, he went back to Nigeria for a while, and on his return, his brother gave him her number asking him to call her just to say hi. He did call and they started to talk on the phone occasionally. He would end every conversation by asking her out. She always refused. He recalls that one evening he had an overwhelming urge to call her. He didn't. The next day, sitting in his office around lunch time, this feeling that he should call her would not leave him. It did not make sense, it was the middle of the day and he knew for a fact that she would be at university. Unable to ignore the feeling, he called her. She answered the phone, he said hi, and she burst into tears. Her father had died from a heart attack that morning. Unable to talk, she put down the phone. He scoured the afternoon papers till he found details of the funeral that evening, then he went home, changed into a suit and went to the church. As the family walked down the aisle after the funeral, she spotted him and stopped in her tracks, staring at him. It was only a few seconds but very noticeable since she was following a procession. He went to the wake after to pay his respects to the family. They went back to talking on the phone.

A few months after, my dad was having a party at his flat and it occurred to him when the party was already in full swing that my mum might want to attend so he phoned her. She made her apologies, she lived on the other side of Athens and it was late but she thanked him for inviting her. As he said good bye, he once again asked, 'when will I see you?' And she replied, 'when do you want to see me?' She had broken up with her boyfriend a while ago. He was so surprised and pleased that he suggested that he take her out for dinner that very night. He waved away her protests that he had guests and left his own party to drive across Athens and take her out for dinner. And they have been together ever since.

26 years, 3 countries, 3 children, numerous fights and uncountable differences later, I don't they'd have it any other way.

They Could Have Been Me

I grew up in Nigeria and like everybody else we always had house girls. As children, we had two most of time because my parents both worked and there are three of us. We had our share of house girls who stole from us, house girls who were lazy and didn't do what they were hired to do and house girls who beat us unnecessarily. We also had three amazing house girls who all stayed with us for a long time and became part of the family; Rose, Asabe (our absolute favourite) and Rifikatu. Throughout my childhood though, I can't remember thinking there was anything odd about having house girls. Or drivers, or gardners, or night watch men.

I went back to Nigeria last year for the first time since I'd left 9 years ago and all of a sudden I was filled with an overwhelming sense of something resembling guilt. But isn't guilt only applicable when you've done something wrong? My aunt and uncle’s cook would cook for us, bring our food to the table and come and clear up after us. Not only are my sister and I not used to people doing things for us, but I guess we're pretty domesticated so when we'd finish eating, we'd clear the table, take the plates to the kitchen and attempt to start washing them, only for Mr. Roman to protest and refuse our help. Whenever I needed the driver to pick up something for me or drop me off somewhere, I'd ask nicely probably to give myself the illusion that I was asking as an equal rather than as someone he had to obey. One of my aunts treated her house girl really badly and it really, really bothered me. I also found myself making an effort to use the staff’s names rather than their titles when talking about them to other people. After a few days of feeling like this I tried to analyse my thoughts and I realised the reason why all of this bothered me is because the only difference between me and a house girl, or a driver is that I was born to parents who were - quite simply - richer.

I realised that it's not just the fact that I'm not comfortable with someone doing things for me (though it is partly this but that's an issue for a whole different post), it's the fact that the people who occupy these positions in Nigeria do not have a choice. They never had a chance. In the developed world, if someone is a maid, there are laws that dictate you have to pay them a minimum wage. But more than that, they have a choice. For the most part, there are other career paths they could have chosen. Take the UK for example, education up until university is free, and even in University, if your parents earn below a certain amount of money, then the university fees are waived and you receive a larger loan and often a grant to help you with your living expenses while you get an education. You have a choice about your future. I truly believe that in the West, anybody can become anything they want. I'm not saying it's easy but it's very possible, it's just a matter of how much you want it.

In Nigeria on the other hand, if you are born in some remote village where the nearest school is 10 km away and you're the only boy in your family so your father needs your help on the farm, then no matter how brilliant you are, you will never get an education and never learn about the world beyond your immediate surroundings. And this isn't just an obscure example. In Nigeria, the majority of the population will never achieve anything near what they’re capable of. Any potential you might possess is snuffed out the moment you're born on the wrong side of the gold paved tracks. And it is damn near impossible to work your way out of your social class in Nigeria, and in the rare occasions that it happens, it's usually out of stroke of luck rather than ambition, determination or hard work. Because those things that mean so much in the developed world, (ambition, determination, hard work) aren't worth a kobo in Nigeria, unless you have money.

So I figure that's why I feel guilty when I'm in Nigeria; because any of those house girls or drivers could have been me, and I them ... I'm only where I am because I got lucky in the parent lottery.

What's different this time?

His were the first eyes mine met when I walked in
He came over immediately and gave me a hug
He held on several seconds too long
There's nothing different about that

We've known each other about twelve years
We've been attracted to each other ... oh, about twelve years
We see each other a couple of times a year
And those few times, it's as if we're the only people in the room
The tension in the air between us is so real
I avoid his eyes for fear of what I might see, or what I might reveal
He always has a girlfriend
There's nothing different about that

We laugh a lot
Then I go and find my friends and he walks back to his
I'm lost in conversation when I see him fall into the seat beside me
"Why are you sitting here when you could be talking to me?" he asks
We talk. We flirt
There's nothing different about that

We start to dance, very closely
It feels very intimate and for the first time since I met him, I'm at a loss for words
I was a shy twelve year old with a big crush then
What is my excuse now?
This is definitely different

He leads me away from the crowd
Alone now, I feel like his gaze is burning into me
I can't look at him
He pulls me into a hug, to reassure me
Then very softly, and so briefly that I wonder if I imagined it
His lips touch mine
This is definitely different

We go back to our friends
Except for furtive looks and the occasional sly touch of our hands
We are as we always are
We say our good byes and head home
The next day we're back to being friends
Friends with a history, but friends nonetheless
There's nothing different about that

Kunle is Back!

My friend Kunle, who I blogged about in my previous post, has started up her blog again after a really, really, really long hiatus. Check it out here.

I'm glad we're friends again

My title might give the impression that D and I stopped being friends but that's not very accurate. D and I met in school and to be honest I don't think either of us were particularly big fans of the other. It's not that we actively disliked each other, more that we didn't care for each other. But we were part of the same group of friends so inevitably we hung out.

Then I moved to England and a few months after, out of all the people I would have loved to also move to England, sods law would have it that it was D. You know how when you're somewhere different, you turn to familiar people for comfort, I guess that's what D and I did because we started talking a lot on the phone and soon we were really close. We didn't see each other very much because she was in London and I was in Birmingham but for two years, we would talk on the phone all the time. We knew every detail about each other's lives, the big things as well as the stupid little mundane things. Even though we were both broke students, if one of us bought something for ourselves, we'd buy one for the other too. Thinking back, I don't think I've ever been that open with anyone ever.

Then we went to university and we drifted apart. It's completely my fault because I got caught up in a whole new life and with a whole new group of friends and I admit I neglected my old friends a lot. It was only when one of my neighbours told me that my mum was upset that I never took her calls or returned her calls that I realised just how much I was neglecting the people that mattered to me. It wasn't on purpose, there was always something going on and I was always going to call them back later, except that later wouldn't come around for a really long time. D and I drifted apart and I didn't really notice because I had lots of new friends. However, she would still be the one to call me at 11:58 on the eve of my birthday and leave me a really long message so she could be the first one to say happy birthday, and I'm ashamed to say, I never remembered her birthday. I remember once we spoke and she was telling me about something really important that had happened to her a couple of months ago and I was only just hearing it a couple of months later. There was a time I would have known about it the very moment it happened. I don't think I even made the time to talk to her properly about it.

Fast forward about three or four years, we still saw each other occasionally and spoke once in a while but we weren't anywhere near as close as we once were. I guess maybe she stopped making the effort too and she obviously had lots of new friends. In fact, I don't know anyone as popular as little Miss. D. She knows and is known to everyone! I moved to London and we started talking occasionally and went out once. About 9 months later, we worked together for a couple of weeks which was nice and in the last couple of months, we've started emailing and talking a lot more. I'm finding myself opening up to her the way I once used to and I hope she's doing the same. Maybe we'll never go back to how we used to be, but I just wanted to say, 'D, I'm glad we're becoming close again.'

The Best Two Weeks of my Life
Bye Bye Lagos

Day 14 - Tuesday 9th January 2007

Onada's last day so we'd arranged to hang out. She also wanted to check out the books in Terra Culture so we went there; she bought some books, looked at the art again, and we got invited to a private viewing of a new artist's work on Friday, when unfortunately, we would be back in our respective countries. She wanted some more Nigerian books so we decided to go to The Palms because someone had told us there was a big bookshop there. Turns out there wasn't a big bookshop there at all but we walked around and then had some lunch at Nandos! I don't know if it's just me but I find the thought of a Nandos in Nigeria so cool! It was pretty much the same as Nandos here except that it's slightly hotter but I could still handle my extra hot. Oh and you can have jollof rice with your chicken which is pretty much the icing on the cake. Now all they have to do is sort out some dodo and I’ll be moving back to Lagos and into the nearest Nandos!

After lunch, we went to Silverbird on the hunt for more books then I dropped Onada home.

The last couple of days, Dimples had texted me a couple of times just saying hi, what are you up to, we should meet up soon, that kind of stuff. Because it was the last couple of days I had to spend with my girls, I genuinely didn't have time to meet up and I'd told him that. Even though he didn’t believe me and he thought I was hanging out with ‘the competition’. Just before I'd dropped Onada off home, we'd been texting and it turns out he was staying in the same neighbourhood that she lives so after I dropped her off, I went round and we were talking for a while and contemplated going to the movies. He told me to send the driver home because he would take me back. A friend of his came round and we sat around and chilled, watching Hitch in black and white (something to do with the DVD player), then went out and got shawarmas. All of this was interspersed with debates about why girls ‘front’, obviously their topic, not mine. It was a really fun evening and I felt really comfortable in his company so that was cool, such a change from the wedding. We made plans to hang out the next day and he took me home.

Day 15 - My second to last day

Oh, guess who called me last night? Taye. I had literally forgotten about him by now so I was very surprised to hear from him but we talked for about an hour. To be honest, it's the first time we'd really talked. He's a really nice guy but kind of serious, like I felt a bit silly telling him what kind of films I liked or that reading for me was purely pleasure so I try and avoid intelligent books where possible (thinking about it, maybe I shouldn't be telling anyone that). We made plans to hang out the next day but I forgot that I had made plans already to hang out with Dimples so I called Taye this afternoon and asked him if we could postpone until tomorrow.

So back to the morning, I haven't plaited my hair in years so I decided that before I came back to England, it was something I wanted to do. So the morning was spent at the salon plaiting my hair. I got home with a bit of a headache, chilled a while and went to hang with Dimples for a while. Again, it was really cool, we started watching 'Something new' but I had to leave before we finished and it was kind of sad saying bye. He might be doing an MBA in Scotland though so I guess we'll wait and see what happens.

From his house I headed to Churrasco where I had initially made plans to hang out with Lola on my last night. I had invited Ugo along, then a couple of guys I'd met a couple of days ago, and my cousin and basically everyone who I wanted to see one last time before I left. Lola also invited three of her friends so in the end, a little catch-up between the two of us turned into a 12 person cocktail fest. Except that the blender wasn't working so we couldn't have any of the creamy drinks (I didn't care because I was very into my Mojitos at this point). Oh I have to tell you about the annoying hostess at Churrasco. When I first got there, it was just me and two guys so we sat at the bar and caught up. Then Lola showed up with her three friends and we asked the hostess if we could move to a table. The conversation went something like this:
Me, smiling and being oh so pleasant: Hi, do you mind if we move to a table?
Her: Are you eating?
Me: No, we're just having drinks.
Her: Sorry, the tables are for people that are eating.
Me, looking around bewildered because it's 8 O’clock on a Wednesday night, only two tables are occupied by people eating, and there are about 10 tables to spare: Emmm, I seriously doubt it will get full ....
One of the guys jumped in and assured her that if they needed the table, we'd stand up. So very reluctantly, she led us to a table for 8.
Then my cousin shows up and sits at the spare seat. Then Ugo shows up and pulls up a seat from another table. Then the last two people show up and the hostess comes up to us again:
Her: I gave you a table and now you are spoiling all the other table arrangements.
Me sincerely: I'm sorry, we didn't mean to. Would you mind if we move to that table over there so that it will take all of us?
Her: I'm sorry, I can't give you that table. You're not eating; you have to wait till after 11 to sit at a table, you can move to the bar.
Now if you've been to Churrasco you'll know that it has a pretty big bar with chairs all around. If we moved to the bar as a group, there's no way we would have been able to carry out any sort of conversation whatsoever.
I'm usually a really nice and polite girl I promise, but I was getting really annoyed at the increasing lack of any rational thought on her part.
Me: It's 9 O’clock now, only two tables are occupied, there are 12 of us here drinking and to be honest, we're happy to go somewhere else (someone had been talking about checking out Bambuddah). And you're honestly telling me that you'd rather lose our business than give us a table in your near empty restaurant which is not going to get busy since it's a Wednesday night?
Ugo spotted the owner and suggested going to talk to him, and the hostess reluctantly said she would do it herself. Then she came over, said we were lucky and we could move to the bigger table. Lucky? Us? Imagine that.

Anyways, it was a really great last night and as is the way with Lagos, everybody in the group seemed to have worked with someone else, or gone to primary school with another person or something and that made for good conversation. And the Suya we bought on the way home was the perfect end to a pretty good day.

Day 16 - My last day

My flight was at 11 in the night so I had planned that I would leave VGC at 5pm.

I woke up and packed, then had a shower and went to The Palms. There were a few essentials I needed to buy before I came home; Indomie noodles and Choco Milo. Also, I was determined to have meat pie and sausage rolls from Mr Biggs. While I was there, I got a text from Taye asking if we were still on so I sent him one back saying I was in The Palms and he could come and meet me there if he was free. I finished shopping for the essentials and then went to the really nice coffee shop in The Palms, I can't remember what it's called but it's the one that is at the opposite end of the mall from Shoprite. I had my John Grisham book - which is taking me a while to read because it's basically Grisham recounting a true life case of gross injustice in some small American town, and while it's got interesting bits, it's really just like reading a load of legal documents. And not that that's a bad thing, it's just not what I signed up for. I was expecting a great Grisham legal thriller - not that he's had many of those in the last few years. Anyway, I digress - I had my book, my notebook where I was working on a blog idea and I had my Sudoku book so I was looking forward to some nice coffee and some me time if Taye didn't show up. But he did and it was nice, though by this time I had no interest in him in any way other than as a friend. And to be honest I think he felt the same. I had a cappuccino, he had pizza and we talked. We managed to find a middle ground between his intellectual conversation and my notoriously playful banter, which we cemented with me promising to read his book recommendation, 'The Life of Pi' and him promising to read something by my favourite author James Patterson. We said goodbye and then I went home, got my suitcases and headed for the airport.

I know 'hate' is a strong word but I think it is fair to say I hate the airport in Lagos! It took me three hours from the time I joined the queue to check in, which wasn't even that long, until I got through immigration! And much as I was thinking that I want to move to Lagos, I must admit that I breathed a sight of contentment when a mere 15 minutes after arriving at Heathrow, I had passed through customs, collected my luggage and was on my way out of the airport.

So that’s all folks. If I were you, I wouldn't revisit my blog because it is unlikely I will have anything interesting to report till next Christmas!

The Best Two Weeks of my Life
Dimples

Day 9...

... Was kinda boring. I did my hair in the morning, came back and caught up on some reading. I was up for going out in the night but I couldn't get a ride out of VGC so it was a night in for me. I enjoyed my nights in because I went to Lagos armed with lots of books. Anyways, it was a good night for me but nothing of any note to tell you guys.

Day 10

Today was Noni Moss’ last day and due to the fact that she was always rocking some wedding, party, club, lounge ... she was complaining that there were a lot of things she wanted to do which she hadn't yet done. For example, she hadn't yet eaten at Yellow Chilli so we decided to go there for some lunch. We met a friend of ours there and had peppersoup to start and then pounded yam for mains. I suffer from a severe case of 'eyes bigger than my stomach' syndrome so I struggled to finish the pounded yam, knowing the whole time that I really should stop eating because I was full but not being able to stand the thought of leaving perfectly good food on my plate.

I said my goodbyes to Noni after lunch and then went home to have a nap before the evening's activities. That night, I met Onada and some friends and then went back to her house as one of our other friends had organised a school reunion. We got dressed at Onada's and then one of her (many) admirers came to pick us up to take us to the bar in Lekki where everyone was meeting. We were there for a couple of hours during which loads of people from our former school showed up. It was really nice except that I kept getting embarrassed when I didn't remember people's names or even their faces, if they had changed a lot. In my defence, I was only at ISL for a year and I left right at the beginning of SS2 so everyone had two years more together than I did with them. I really didn't want people to think I had turned into one of those girls. You know? Those girls that you were practically best friends with in school and when you see them after a while, naturally you say hi. But despite the fact that they know you, they definitely recognise you and know your name, yet they look at you, re-arrange their features into mock confusion, adopt a well practised voice and say, 'you look really familiar, do I know you?'. To anyone that I didn't remember, I'm really sorry but I'm not one of those girls!

We dropped by Newscafe briefly after and then some of us headed to Bacchus lounge. I said hi to some people and was talking to my friends when one of them asked, 'did you see Fola and Dimples?' I'd see Fola but I hadn't seen Dimples, I didn't even realise he was in town. Dimples - so named because of his huge smile and very cute dimples - was this guy in the year above me who I'd had the biggest crush on in school, so naturally, I was curious to see him. A while later, I spotted him dancing across the table from me so I reached over, tugged at his polo shirt, said hi and was about to re-introduce myself when a look of recognition came over his face, followed by a smile and he motioned me to walk around the table where he gave me a hug and asked if we could go to somewhere with a bit more space so that we could catch up. We went to stand by the entrance to the toilets (it was the only part of the club with any room whatsoever), he offered me a drink and then grabbed my left hand to look at my ring finger. He smiled when he saw that I wasn't married and proceeded to ask me something about HIM, to which I replied that there wasn't any HIM. He reminded me how he used to take his mum to church near my house and confessed that while he'd sit in the car waiting for her, he'd hope I'd walk past so he could talk to me. Turns out he had a crush on me too, but how was I supposed to know, he was one of the cool older boys that intimidated me! We talked a bit and went our separate ways but he got me to dance with him a couple of times during the course of the night and just before we went home, he asked my friends if he could borrow me and we chatted a bit more. He took my number and confessed he couldn't remember my name (I forgave him because after all it had been like 10 years). He seemed really happy to see me and it was great seeing him too.

We headed back to Onada's house where I slept till about 11 the next morning when the driver could come and pick me up.

Day 11

I got home, went straight to bed and was woken up at 4ish by a text message from Dimples asking if I'd had a good night. A few text messages later, he told me he was going to a wedding reception and if I wasn't doing anything, he'd like me to come with him. I thought about it for a bit because I hadn't showered and I really wasn't in the mood to get dressed up but I decided I wasn't doing anything better so I told him I'd come along then I ran around in a rush trying to get dressed. I rushed out feeling very unready and we drove to the reception which was by the Palms together. He was kind of quiet and we didn’t have the same kind of repartee that we did the day before.

The reception was nice, even though I didn't know the people who had gotten married, a few of my friends and cousins were there and I even managed to see a couple of relatives that I hadn't managed to see on my trip. Dimples and I didn't get to talk that much because we were both busy talking to other people. When we were leaving, my cousin asked if we could drop her off somewhere and Dimples said that was fine. We set off only for her to realise she had no idea where it was that she was trying to go so she finally asked if we could turn back around and drop her off at the Palms so she could meet her friend there instead. I was really apologetic but Dimples was really nice about it and when we'd dropped her off, he came and sat in the back of the car with me and held my hand (well, we held hands) all the way back to VGC. Conversation was better but I have to admit I thought it was a bit of an anti-climax after how excited I was about seeing him the day before.

Day 12

I went to church with my Aunt and Uncle and then we went for lunch at the Federal Palace hotel, which has a lovely view from the restaurant. Give me a view of water, any water, and I'm hooked. When we got home after a big lunch, we all retired to bed and I woke up in the evening around 6ish to the sound of my phone ringing. It was my friend Lola who lives down the road from me in VGC, and who I hadn't managed to see yet as we kept missing each other. Anyway, she was outside my gate and the gateman wouldn't let her in. We have the most annoying gateman, he won't let anyone in unless someone comes out to get them and he won't let my friends park in the driveway because apparently 'Oga say no'. Anyways, I went down to let her and her cousins in and they stayed for about 20 minutes and then asked me if I wanted to come to the cinema with them in about half an hour. I said yes and an hour later saw us in Silverbird trying to decide what to see. They had wanted to see 'Bobby' but when we got there, we found out it wasn't starting until the next day and the only film that we all hadn't seen was 'The Holiday' so we saw that. I wasn't very impressed, I had been looking forward to seeing that film for a while and I'd heard it was a good romantic comedy, comparable to Love Actually. Puh-lease ... it wasn't even close. It was too long, Cameron Diaz's character was very annoying and Kate Winslet's character was literally Bridget Jones. Nope, not at all impressed. Thankfully, the Shawarmas we went to eat and Mega Plaza made up for it.

Day 13

It was D's last day and she wanted to go to Terra Culture. So we went there, checked our emails, bought some books, oohed and aaahed over the art in the gallery and made a pact to save some money so we could each buy a piece of art when we go to Lagos this year, then we had some lunch (Jollof rice, grilled Tilapia fish and dodo, cut into nice small quarters just the way I like it) and went to Silverbird because she wanted to buy some more books and some Nigerian movies. Seriously, I do not get the Nigerian movie thing ....at all! Then while we were waiting at Barcelos from some food to take back to little Miss Onada, we shared this big waffle thing with ice cream ... yum!

I got dropped off at Piccolo Mundo where I was meeting my friend Ugo. She's moved back to Lagos and we hadn't really had a chance to catch up so we had a lot to talk about over the best cappuccino I have ever tasted and a chocolate fondant cake. Yes, I know, I ate a lot that day. She's making some big changes in her life and she's so full of amazing ideas that it was really nice hearing them all and catching up on life in general. Then she took me home, said hi to my aunt and promised to come and sleep over on Wednesday which would be my last night.

The Best Two Weeks of my Life
Colds, Old Friends and Taye

Day 5 - New Years Eve

I went to church, then had lunch with my aunt, uncle and cousins and then headed to my bed for a much needed kip as I'd only slept a couple of hours the night before. After I woke up, I went to watch the fireworks in the park with some of the VGC massive. The highlight of the park experience was seeing my 30 year old friend running around the park flying a remote control aeroplane - which he wasn't great at, he kept flying it into trees and having to shake it loose - that he had bought for his two year old niece. After the fireworks, we went round to Noni's house where we ate eba and efo ruro (I have no idea if that's the correct spelling), then had Toblerone for desert and drank champagne while we saw in the New Year. Then I made my excuses and went home. To be honest, I wasn't too bothered about not going out on New Years Eve because I think it’s kinda overrated. My ideal thing to do would have been to go to a house party but there didn't seem to be any going on this year and the only other option was The Boat Club which would have cost 7000 naira and I've heard is way too pretentious to really be fun.

Oh did I mention I had a cold? I'm pretty fit and hardly ever get ill ... that is, except for colds. I get every single cold that ever goes around. A couple of nights before New Year, my air conditioner was really cold during the night but I was too lazy/deep in sleep to wake up and reduce the power so I slept through it and ta daa, woke up the next morning with a cold. So by New Years Eve, I was more or less constantly high on some cold medication and only able to function for a couple of hours before needing to conk out again.

Day 6

I met up with some of the VGC massive at the Nicon hotel for some lunch (or so we thought). We sat outside by the pool, ordered Chapmans (yup, I know, I was becoming a bit obsessive by this point. Oh by the way, does anyone know how to make a good Chapman? And while I'm on the subject of recipes, I'd really appreciate a puff puff and okro soup recipe). Anyway, I ordered goat meat pepper soup and they came back to say they didn't have goat meat peppersoup but they had chicken peppersoup if I wanted. I was cool with that so I ordered. Then my friend wanted the starter basket which they didn't have. Fine, she was a bit annoyed but she looked at the menu and chose something else. They didn't have that either. After making about 4 different choices on a menu which only had about 20 items only to be told each time 'I'm sorry ma, we don't have that one', she finally asked what they did have. The guy pointed to the sandwich side of the menu and was like 'ennn, we have most of the sandwiches.' Sandwiches?? Sandwiches??? Needless to say, she didn’t really feel like a sandwich so I cancelled my food order and we decided to go and get the great chicken from the Chinese restaurant on our way home.

A few chicken wings and some full bellies later, we got dressed and went to meet some friends in Churrasco. It was my first time there and I have to say it lived up to the rave reviews from my sister. I was even more impressed with the number of dirty cocktail names - Slow comfortable screw against the wall with a twist and Pornstar to name a couple. We talked, drank, chilled and generally made merry.

Day 7

This was probably my favourite day of all the days I spent in Lagos. I met up with Onada and two of our friends; O and D at Chocolat Royale to catch up. It was the first time I had seen O this holiday and it was really nice catching up. I keep in touch with Onada and D by email but O and I have never been great at keeping in touch. But more so with her than anyone else, it literally takes a couple of minutes before we go back to exactly how we used to be. It's really nice. Her boyfriend had dropped them all off and since I had heard so much about this guy she had been dating for about 2 years, it was nice to finally meet him. He was so different to everything I expected; he was really nice and friendly and soooooo in love with her. Sorry O, I have no idea why I thought he wouldn't be like that! After he dropped them off, his car broke down and he set about trying to fix it, but not before getting his cousin to come and pick us up and take us where we wanted to go. Altogether now - awwww. We had ice-cream, cakes and biscuits and were planning to go to M Cafe in Silver bird but that was full, so prompted by my musings about how I hadn't yet eaten my favourite meal of pounded yam and okro, O's boyfriend and his cousin took us to Yellow Chilli. We went upstairs to the bar where we could be as loud as we wanted, taking loads of pictures (Onada is such a tourist) and eating our very scrumptious food. Me, I ate my pounded yam and okro with my hand the way God intended it. We were joined by another large group of people, and about half an hour before we left, another large group came in. In this group were LondonBuki and T.Minx and it was the first of many times I saw them.

From there, we went to Soul Lounge at the Palms. I like it, I think it has a great atmosphere but it’s kinda small. It wasn't too busy that day so it was nice. We drank wine and did Tequila shots and danced for a while and then I had to go home around 10:30ish because I wouldn't have been able to get a ride home later. It was just such a fun day, you know one of those days where everything you do is spontaneous and impulsive and yet you couldn't have had a better time if you had planned it.

Day 8

I went to visit my cousins and just spent the day with them, chilling and helping them cook. It's really nice to catch up with them even though it's only once a year. Halfway through the day, I got a call from this guy (we'll call him Taye because I think he looks like Taye Diggs) asking me if I wanted to do something that night. I said yes and hung up really excited. I had met Taye in London in April. He lives in Naij and was on holiday. A friend had mentioned he was cute (and he is actually very hot) but since I knew she was making her move, I stayed away. However, he spent the whole night trying to talk to me and I spent the whole night trying to get him to go and talk to her and dance with her and so on. When I was leaving and he asked for my number, I thought, 'you know what, I haven't encouraged him at all and he still wants to see me. Plus I also think he's cute and she only just met him too' so I gave him my number. He was going home in two days and wanted to do something the next day. He never called. Turns out that even though he didn’t ask for my friend’s number, he asked around and called her and asked her out. Anyway, I bumped into him in Lagos at the party on the 30th and he was being very nice. He'd say things like, 'there are some great places in Lagos, but it's not the places everyone goes'. To which I replied, 'Tell me, it will be nice to go somewhere that's not as crowded as the places I usually go.' And he replied, 'I'm not telling you, but maybe I'll take you'. He asked for my number and when he was leaving, he asked what I was doing the following week. Anyways, judging from my experience with him in London, I wasn't sure if he would call and had given him three days because I'd decided if he was going to call, it'd be within that time. So I'm at my cousin's house, it's the fourth day and I'd mentally made my peace with the fact that he wouldn't call, and then he calls. I can't lie; I was looking forward to seeing him. I got home, had a nap and was about to hop into the shower when I got a text from him saying he had car troubles and couldn't make it. Then he called to apologise. I don't know why but I had a feeling that we wouldn't meet up and I felt like it was an excuse. But then that left me all confused; why would he call to ask me out if he didn't want to go out in the first place??? Anyway, I said it was okay and ended up going out with Noni and a few of the VGC massive. We first went to News Cafe where we were treated to champagne by this guy trying to impress a girl (Nigerian girls can enjoy oh!) and then we went to Bacchus lounge because everywhere else was pretty dead. I won't go into it again because I already went on and on here about how it was the best night I had in Lagos so I guess it’s good that Taye cancelled on me otherwise I would have missed out.

The Best Two weeks of my Life
Humongous Houses and Chapmans

Noni Moss’ day to day account of her adventures in Nigeria inspired me to blog about my own day to day itinerary. Actually I’m just doing follow follow and copying Noni’s idea.

Day 1 (27th December)

Noni and I got to Lagos on the same evening; different flights an hour or two apart. In true Noni style, by the time I had gotten my luggage and called her, she had sorted out our evening plans and dismissed any thoughts I might have had about staying in. I'm a part of the VGC massive so I knew that refusing her would mean risking her coming to my house and waking up my entire family in order to make me come out. Basically, resistance is futile. With that in mind, I went home, had dinner with my aunt and uncle, changed my top, put some make up on and went out. We went to a house party in Lekki thrown by a girl who apparently has one every year. She had a huge, huge, gorgeous house! Honestly, every year I go back, I spend a good amount of time just gaping at the huge, magnificent houses some people have. I always make it a point to walk around VGC just to look at all the new houses and re-affirm my commitment to marrying a rich man and becoming a lady who lunches … joke! Anyways, back to the party, apparently there were 400 people in her garden and it didn't even look crowded so that should give you some idea of how big it was. It was a really good party and I got to see lots of people that I knew. It was very surreal seeing friends who I made in London and who I've never seen out of London, but it was nice. There must have been twice as many people in Lagos this year as there were last year. We left about 3am to go home to get some much deserved sleep.

Day 2

I woke up kinda late and then dragged myself to the hairdressers. I have long hair which might look great when it's all nice and styled but it's a nightmare for someone like me who really hates faffing around with hair and makeup. So I was in heaven at the thought of going to someone who would wash and set my hair for me for the very reasonable sum of 600 Naira ... that's like £2.50! I emerged sufficiently beautified but at a high price! I honestly thought my head would explode when it was under the dryer. Seriously, how do women do that every week??? Anyways, I got home, slept for an hour and then went to a friend's dinner party with Noni. There were some really cool people there, especially two guys and a girl who had all started their own production company together. It was the two guys that really impressed me because father time and mother experience have presented me with very few Nigerian guys who have impressed me. They were very opinionated (as I find most Nigerian men are) but what I found interesting was that they had obviously put a lot of thought into the opinions they held. They weren't just arguing for arguments sake or because they were too proud to admit that they might be wrong. After one particularly long discussion in which I held the opposite views to theirs, I found myself coming round to their way of thinking by the end because of the sheer persuasiveness of their arguments. And they just had so much respect for women (one of them even referred to himself as a feminist); for example they expressed disappointment at mothers and friends who convince their daughters/friends to stay with husbands who cheat on them or beat them because in their opinion, every woman deserves better. In short it was an ideal dinner party, and everyone got on so well. We went to Saipan after which I enjoyed. I really like their live bands! Congratulations are in order for Noni because I think she may have met her future baby daddy that night ha ha. Read her post on her adventures in Lagos to find out why I’m finding that so funny. And then it was on to Bacchus which for the first time, I really didn't enjoy. It was too packed for us to dance together, and there were some drunken guys fighting most of the night. Another relatively early night.

Day 3

I didn't really do much all day. I was supposed to be going to a family friend's engagement which started at like 1 but I didn't get there till 5. It was so much fun and the first time I got to see all of my old school friends since I'd gotten to Lagos so that was really nice. We took loads of pictures, drank loads of Chapman (how did I ever get through last Christmas without drinking it even once, I wonder) and spent a huge amount of time studiously ignoring the two groups of men with the talking drums who positioned themselves by us. I got back to VGC around 9ish and rang Noni who invited me to dinner at the VGC Chinese restaurant with her Uncle and Aunty. Mmmm, I completely support her verdict on the chicken though I can’t believe she remembers what number it was on the menu! And I had my third Chapman of the evening!

Oh, have I mentioned how much I love VGC? For me, it’s proof that things in Nigeria can actually work under good management. The roads are paved (which is nothing short of a miracle in Lagos!), they’ve got palm trees and a park which are obviously well maintained, there was a fireworks display on New Years Eve, there is a shuttle bus service which runs regularly, good security, I could go on and on. If I ever move back, I would love to live somewhere like that.

Day 4

I spent the day with my little cousins. Or rather spent the day in the hairdressers with my little cousins while they did their hair. In the night a few of us went to a friend’s birthday party. Cue another beautiful house with the garden lit by candles, the pool filled with balloons, two bars serving cocktails, food, and small tables dotted around the garden and the pool. And she had a dress up policy which means everyone looked really nice. It was a really nice party and the kind that only ever takes place in Lagos.

The Best Two Weeks of My Life

Hey People,

Hope you all had a really good Christmas and New Year!

I’m back … and really wishing I wasn’t. It’s taken me a while to blog about Lagos because I had no idea how to put the last couple of weeks into any sort of coherent blog format. But I’ve now given up on that and decided to just write about my holiday as I remember it, so pardon the randomness and enjoy.

I had so much fun I can’t even begin to try and describe how much. Three of my good friends were also in town, and it was the first time in 11 years that we were all in the same place at the same time. But that’s the funny thing about old friends, we all met up for cake (and ice-cream) at Chocolat Royale and within 5 minutes it was just like old times, no awkwardness, no lulls in conversation, just funny banter and catching up on the last few years. I can’t go on enough about how nice it was just hanging out with them and going out together.

Ooooh, I met a couple of fellow bloggers – LondonBuki and Taurean Minx. They’re both really pretty and so nice and friendly. It’s pretty cool putting faces and names to your blog pals. I also met up with a couple of other bloggers who I know; Onada (one of the three friends I just talked about) and Noni Moss; believe me when I say that girl can party like no man’s business. My holiday would probably have been slightly more chilled if it wasn’t for her.

I met so many interesting new people in Lagos. Shock of all horrors, I’m actually thinking that I might want to live there for a couple of years. I know you’re probably thinking, ‘Ehen, so what? Are you not Nigerian? Is it not home? It is a natural progression jare’ En en, until I went back last Christmas, I was adamant that there was no way on God’s good earth I would ever move back to Nigeria… never ever. More so, I couldn’t understand people whose ambition it was to move back. It just didn’t make any sense. After I spent Christmas there last year, my position shifted a tiny bit; The only way I would ever live in Nigeria would be if I married a Nigerian guy (which at the time I thought was very unlikely) and he absolutely, positively couldn’t live anywhere else, and even then, there’d be serious talks! So imagine my surprise when after a week this holiday, I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, there might be something to this whole moving back thing after all. I’m taking my time to think about it, I don’t want to make any rash decisions based on my consumption of too may cocktails at Churrasco!

Hmmm, coming on to the topic of guys … lol, apparently, I’m hot stuff in Lagos oh. First of all, I met (completely platonically) a couple of really nice guys who gave me some faith in the Nigerian male species. I might just tell you more about them and some of the other guys I met but that’s a whole different topic for a whole other blog. Let’s just say I really enjoyed getting to know new people … ha ha. Oh, and another shift in my mindset is that I’m not as anti-Nigerian men as I once was; who knows, I might even end up marrying one.

I love going out in Lagos! In fact it would probably be accurate to say that I go out as much or more in Lagos as I do the entire year in London. It’s just so much fun, and its great catching up with people. Bars I loved this year were Piccolo Mundo and Currasco. I love a place that knows how to make good cocktails! Unfortunately, the club everyone goes to is still Bacchus and considering how tiny it is, I really didn’t enjoy my one night there. After that, we went to Bacchus lounge a couple of times and I had my absolute favourite night there! It was the first Wednesday after the New Year and the night before everyone resumed work on Thursday so it wasn’t very busy compared to what it’s normally like. But there was a good group of us and it was so much fun! We played this game my sister invented where you have to do a really stupid/crazy dance but keep a straight face while everyone around you dissolves into fits of laughter … and everyone joined in. It was just a really amazing night, and the first time since I had been in Lagos where 5am came around way too quickly!
Mmmm, and the food … Yellow Chilli and Terra Culture are the places to go for your Nigerian food. I ate goat meat peppersoup and pounded yam with okro both times I went to Yellow Chilli and loved it both times. Not to make anyone jealous or anything, but I ate suya, and Chinese food Naija style (which has the added benefit of being peppery), jollof rice and plantain (even though I only had plantain twice the entire time I was there … shame!). Actually, the only thing I didn’t eat was yam for breakfast and not as much puff puff as I would have liked.

Okay, I’m sitting at my desk daydreaming about food so I’m thinking it’s time for me to shut up about Lagos, but not before I say one last time what an amazing time I had … easily the best two weeks of my entire life … until next year, that is!