For all of you that assumed I was in jail because I haven’t blogged in a while, shame on you. How dare you even consider the possibility that an evil genius like myself could ever be apprehended by the forensic capabilities of the NPF (No offence to our fine, upstanding officers … but come on?!!). Nope, I’m still as free as a bird because this is what happened…
I was about to stab Bad Weave girl to death with a Sweet Sensation toothpick, when I was rudely interrupted by Mum’s driver who had picked me up from work.
“Small madam you don finish?”
“Tony wetin? You no see say I dey busy?” I replied as I tried to pull one the infernal toothpicks from their unattractive fish shaped holders.
That one was still sitting there with her Diana Ross on crack weave, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She should wait, I’m coming. Maybe when I’ve given her a couple of modern day tribal marks she won’t have so much to smirk about.
“I beg small madam no vex but we have to do fast fast. Your Mama just call to say make I bring the groundnut she send me in the next 5 minutes or else na groundnut she go use pay my salary.”
“Tony please. I’m doing something and anyway you know mummy. She’s just talking. I’ll be done in a minute.”
Yep it shouldn’t take me more than a minute or so to carve out some really ethnic looking ila's on her over powdered face.
“Ah! I beg small madam. Your mama no dey use that kin thing joke o. She don pay me in plantain chips before when I go buy am and I late come. Na your papa help me beg am o otherwise Tony Jnr for don dey grow plantain for head.”
God the woman is a physco. I really didn’t stand a hope in hell of being normal when I was born. Anyway must she torment me even when she is not physically present? Her mates are sending out for Chinese, she’s chasing the poor driver around for groundnut. All I want to do is kill the lying cow (doesn’t suit me indeed. Like that’s even possible) across from me, in as painful a way as possible, without being interrupted. Really is that too much to ask for crying out loud?
Mena why don’t you just go home before Tony has to think of new and interesting ways to live on groundnuts? I hope you kuku know they don’t have stylish uniforms in Kirikiri? Anyway, more important than any style crisis you might suffer behind bars, I personally refuse to end up as someone called Iya Alakara’s bitch. You have been warned.
Hmmmm…You might have a point there brain. After the man drought I’ve been through, I wouldn’t want to start my new lampashing cycle batting for the other side. Fine I will go home, watch some CSI and figure out some ingenious way to dispose of bad weave's body once I’m through tattooing “I shall not disrespect the Mena” all over her with a blunt sewing needle.
“Fine Tony. Let’s go. Well, have a good weekend and I’ll see you on Monday.”
“You too. I’m glad we ran into each other like this.”
Whatever annoying bovine. God save you that I can’t afford to pay Tony’s salary or else.
But honestly ladies…wetin dey? What is the problem with us? Why must we always find a way to rain on another sister’s parade? Please lets all make a vow that from now on we will not compliment people on their handbags and then spend 3 hours on the phone telling anyone who will listen that it’s probably fake. We won’t congratulate anyone on a promotion and then spread the rumour that they slept their way to the top. We won’t tell anyone their boyfriend is hot and then spend all our time wondering what jazz she used on him because he’s obviously too good for her and should be with us. Like my mama always says “if you can’t say anything nice then don’t say anything all (Shame she doesn’t practice what she preaches).” So if you don’t like the way a sister is rocking it fashion or character wise, keep it to yourself and if by some miracle you do, then you definitely shouldn’t have a complex about paying a fellow female a compliment.
For anyone thinking “Pot calling the kettle black”. You need to back up and reevaluate Mena. I might diss a sister in my head for crimes against fashion or improper use of eye shadow but I certainly don’t get in her face and give her a complex about it. Nope. I reserve my verbal dissing for immediate family and close friends. I have no problem telling my sister, Annoying Married Chick (Formerly known as Hurry up and Propose Chick) that neon Lycra hot pants are not the way forward and she should please not spoil the family name by attempting to leave the house in them. Nice? No. Necessary? Very! I diss the one’s I love for their own good and more importantly so any potential hubbies will not think my family have a weird liking for hooker wear. Please don’t feel sorry for her because she and all those in my inner sanctum definitely give as good as they get, which is exactly how it should be. So random strangers, you don’t have to like me or the way I do things but I didn’t ask for your opinion in the first place, so let me and every other woman who’s doing her own thing be.