For time purposes we will skip to the 12th verse.
On the 12 the day of Christmas my Naija boo gave to me…
12 bags of rice
11 calling cards
10 bags of goat meat
9 black soaps
8 packs of weave
7 palm wines
6 pots to cook in
5 YAMS TO POUND
4 free Western Unions
3 Fufu Magics
2 packs of Indomie
And a partridge he wants me to dress so he can eat.
I’m not sure if you’ve heard of the book Stuff White People Like but I bought it years ago and it gave me a lot of insight into phenomena native to white people. For instance, I now know why white people wear sweatshirts and shorts in the winter, kinda. Or at least I know about the intricate love-hate relationship with the Ginger population. Anyways, I am too attention deficit to actually write a whole book about things Nigerians like but I figured I could still enlighten y’all with a blog post here and there. Today, as dinner approaches, I decided I would tell you about Fufu.
Fufu is a staple food in Nigeria. If you ask me I think we like it because it’s easy to eat and digest (no chewing required for real) and it’s solid so you’ll be out like a light soon after. With that said, I strongly suggest you don’t eat fufu on your lunch break. Not good. I’ve probably been eating fufu since I was six months old–in terms of table food you don’t have to chew that’s a winner. The best way to eat it is with your hands but if you’re like me and have nails and don’t want to deal with getting it under them, you can always eat it with a fork. (Before you ask, yes I also attempt to eat chicken wings with a fork in public….behind closed doors? Totally different story) Fufu can be enjoyed with a variety of accompanying soups from egusi (greens with ground egusi melon) to efo riro (greens and tomato usually) to okra or peanut or bean soup. Now that I’ve been thinking about fufu I’m kind of hungry so I think I’ll end this post and go get some. I hope it was educational for you and feel free to drop any questions in the box. Next post, Terrible, Awful Nigerian Movies.
By this time we all should have watched the first episode of Real Housewives of Atlanta Season 5, Got Sexy Back. I only have a few comments and a few predictions to share with y’all for this week.
Nene and Greg- Ummm. Greg everybody sees straight through you. Nene on every TV show on cable and now you want her back? Shut that…Then you wanna go from 0 to 60 on a nigga. Like you delivered the mail from the mailbox to the kitchen and you want keys to the house? I mean Nene ready to give them back but at least she’s being smart and playing a little hard to get.
Kim- I don’t like Kim. Why does she keep having babies when she sucks at mothering the ones she has now? Why did she rehire Sweetie
without beating her into submission? Why didn’t her broke tail just pay the decorator? Because you know if she actually did she’d have proof somehow–an ATM withdrawal, a check image, something. And then she hating on Kandi’s fabulous dream home. Talking about “Oh that’s the hood” but yo ratchet tail tryna get evicted from your home. That’s ratchet.
Cynthia- Oh, Cynthia. Yelling at Leon has been the only non-lukewarm thing I’ve seen you do on this show. Too bad you were wrong in that situation. And while Kenya made herself look like a complete donkey, she also helped you look weak and pathetic like you usually do. And as always, your weave looks 1000 times better in confessions than it does from day to day.
Kenya- Oh, Kenya. Don’t be trying to be ratchet and start up mess just to appear relevant on RHOA. And don’t be trying to appear high class by asking for caviar at McAllister’s Deli. You’re trying too hard. Just like Marlo. And you see where she isn’t this season.
Phaedra- You are beautiful, even though you’re a UGA alumna. You can’t be faulted for that. Your son is cute and follows directions. Kudos. And I just hugged my goldfish, I’ll need you to arrange a funeral now.
Kandi- When the show first began, I didn’t think I would like you. You were bland. You wore K-Mart dresses while sitting on a Donald Trump bank account. But you grew on me. You finally got a decent weave. I love you almost as much as I love Phaedra. Your man is okay looking and with some good actors lessons your conversations won’t sound that retarded on television. Love the house. And I personally loved it when you shaded Kim because she was hating on your mansion.
If any of you are like me
and are inept at mating, let alone mating on a deadline you might have missed the cuffing season rapture. One second, all your friends are single and living it up and next second, everyone’s instagramming pictures of convos with some mystery person and kissy facing emojis and hashtag “him”ing everywhere. You, however, might have made it to the 11 floor on 100 floors but in the cuffing game you’re on the first floor scratching your head while the rest of the world is competing on 99th floor. I’d like to tell you your time is coming, but I don’t even believe that for myself. I just have my 1.5 degrees and world of potential to keep myself warm at night. However, being the eternal silver lining discoverer that I am, I have found some bright sides for you to consider. So sit back, relax, and read cuz you really ain’t got nothing to do anyways.
1. You have full control of the temperature at all times. Nobody to fight with over the apartment air conditioner being on in January. No playing dodge the human furnace at night because it’s super hot and he still trying to cuddle. You can be as hot or cold as you want to be.
2. You finally get to use that Snuggie your family member bought you. Do I even need to explain this one? Snuggies are awesome! Except the whole back being open part. If they had Snuggies with a back tie? Clutch.
3. You don’t have to use all of your unlimited minutes or texts. I mean save some for a, never mind I can’t even BS the inactivity on the phones. Instagram messages with your mom or something.
4. Heated blankets are for one, not two. Who really wants to be under a heated blanket with another hot person? Maybe I just have issues with body heat. Idk.
5. No one eating up your food, running up your water or electricity but you. Self explanatory.
6. You don’t have to shave your legs. Nobody rubbing on them means leg hair no care. I personally don’t grow leg hair but I heard shaving can be inconvenient somehow.
7. No objections to watching your terrible sappy colored love movies on Netflix. I enjoy watching my terrible movies without objection. I don’t know about you.
Those are all the bright sides I can manage for now. I think my blood sugar is low so I have to go eat now. Anybody got any bright sides
to help us cope? Feel free to drop them in the comment box. And before you start disparaging me, I am okay with being single. lol
I am in my last semester of full time grad classes and I must say, senioritis is in full effect. I’m tired. I remind myself daily that 2 degrees and a world of potential is more than 1.5 degrees and a world of potential. Simple math. As of late, when I have an exam or project I go through a sequential process to accomplish it. It is not unlike the 7 stages of grief that psychologists often reference. Anywhoo, I only have 15 minutes to write this post before I get off work so here they are:
1. Shock and denial.
I have soooooo much work to do. I can’t believe I let it pile up like this!
2. Pain and guilt.
This is all my fault. I should’ve been working on this all along. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
3. Anger and bargaining.
It’s the teacher’s fault for giving me all this crap to do! Don’t they know I have a life?!
Dear seventh grade carpentry student Jesus, if you help me get through this I promise I will keep up with all my homework thus far. After tonight and my jubilee tomorrow, I swear I’ll keep up.
4. Depression, reflection and loneliness.
I do this to myself every time. I have a problem. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
5. The Upward Turn.
Oh look, I wrote a paragraph. Never mind the equivalent of the 20 page term paper I wrote on Twitter.
6. Reconstruction and working through.
Look! Two paragraphs! And I haven’t tweeted in 5 minutes.
7. Acceptance and hope.
I finished my project/reading/studying. I made it again. *Breathes sigh of relief and pretends I won’t procrastinate next time*
In my honest attempt to not procrastinate, I’ve started reading for a quiz I have on Thursday. In all reality, I’ve only read one chapter and tweeted probably 30 times. Sigh, we can only hope.
(After Mister Rogers, I AM America’s Favorite Neighbor)
I am sure like majority of the National Geographic constituency, you are just brimming with questions about Africa but you don’t have a neighborly African to ask. Have no fear, I am here to answer a few of the most common questions I’ve heard as well as other questions
my Facebook fans asked on my Facebook status. If this post doesn’t answer all your questions, feel free to ask away in my comments, I am here for you.
Are you really a princess from Zumunda that came to America to find a Prince?
Yes, why yes I am.
Do you speak African?
*tries to think of the most insulting response using nice words* No, you goats. There is no “African” language.
Do you speak Nigerian?
Why yes I do. And you do too. The national language of Nigeria is English.
Do you eat monkey?
No, but your moda eats monkey. Mtchewwwww.
What is an akata or oyinbo?
I can’t tell you that one. Next question.
Do you have a dowry? How much is it?
Depends. It increases with factors such as how you look, if you are marrying me for citizenship, etc.
I thought you were born in America?
Mind your business.
How do I snag myself a “real woman”?
With snacks. The bigger the better. Roundness is directly tied to prosperity.
In Nigeria, in what situations is it socially acceptable for me to do the Macarena?
Weddings, church, on busy intersections. Whenever.
Advertising Ethics…. is that… like a thing… in Africa?
Thats all I have for now. Maybe another day.
In anticipation of the Real Housewives of Atlanta season premiering November 4, I decided to write a preliminary post about how I feel about the housewives individually. As I will be blogging about the episodes from time to time, I figured this would be a great precursor since the posts will be laced with my bias.
First and foremost, I would like to thank Bravo TV for
kicking Sheree broke self to the curb ending your contract with Sheree. She was just deadweight to the RHOA franchise and I am glad someone had the vision to relieve us of our suffering eliminate her. However, she had a few great quotes. I personally enjoy this caricature of her since it captures all her moose-like qualities and my favorite quote. Anyways, I’ve already wasted enough words about her. On to the REAL housewives.
I will be talking about the currently returning housewives in order preference. So, needless to say Phaedra goes first.
What can I say about the professionally poised epitome of a Southern belle that is Phaedra? She is EVERYTHING. She just slays in every department of her life. Lawyer? Slays. Wife? Slays. Mom? Slays. That Weave? Slays. Fitness Queen? Slays. That Donkey Booty? Slays Slays Slays! Did I say I love everything about her? I just do. Especially when she be shading people with her cool, calm, and collected voice. Yas.
I like how chill Kandi is. The richest thang in that piece but just be chilling in that Kmart dress. No shade. Much. I really do like her though. She’s very down to earth and very smart. I love when she slick throws shade too tho. And her weave has its high points sometimes. She gets around with everybody so she can be involved in all the mess. Kind of like me.
That simple minded butt. Cynthia is pretty and her hair can be nice sometimes. Only in confessionals though. She likes to be dominated by everyone. I’m not into that. But I do love the friendship contract idea and have drafted it for several friends now. She’s my favorite comedy relief. Still trying to figure who wants NeNe more–Cynthia or her husband.
I liked her until she crossed my boo Phaedra. Point blank. That’s it. And why she so loud anyways?
So now you know how I feel about the Housewives. Let the commentary begin.
So I am notorious for buying beauty sample boxes and abandoning them. I tried Birchbox and didn’t like the chapstick and other mediocre products they sent me. I tried Julep Maven and didn’t like the nail polish they sent me. While monthly subscriptions are usually not much ($10-20), I just feel I need to have something that I look forward to before I continue to buy. So when I got my Ipsy Glam bag, I was thrilled to pieces because I was excited to try everything in it. First, take a look at the bag it came in! So much prettier than the box that that other beauty box place that will not be mentioned.
Second, the bag was full of one of my favorite things in the world…MAKEUP. This month’s bag contained What’s Your Type? the Body Builder Mascara by The Balm Cosmetics, Mirenesse Lip Bomb Glossy Lacquer Stain, Couture Colour Pequi Oil Treatment, Be a Bombshell Eye Liner and Coastal Scents Eyeshadow. Of course, I’ve tried everything but the Oil treatment (hair is currently in yarn braids). I love how the eye liner is like a marker and I absolutely live for the lip stain (in a lovely red). Check out the pictures of the stuff below (and pictures of me trying them!)
I don’t claim to be a theologian by any merit, just a girl reading her Bible and sharing things that God has revealed. I hope it encourages you and blesses you.
Since July, I’ve been doing this Discipleship Journal Book-At-A-Time Bible year plan on the Youversion Bible app. It usually alternates between an Old Testament book and a New Testament book. I would say possibly in Exodus and definitely in Numbers and Joshua, the Bible talks about God designating certain cities to become cities of refuge. If a person was to accidentally (with no malicious attempt) kill someone, this person could flee to this city to avoid being avenged by the victim’s relatives. If found truly not guilty of intended murder, that person would stay in that city, safe from harm, until the current High Priest died. But if the person left that city before his time had come, his safety was not guaranteed and the relatives could kill him.
Like I said before, I read about the city of refuge a few times recently. At first I was like Cool story, bro. Safe cities and all. But today, I received a new interpretation of the city of refuge. Fast forward to modern day, God is our city of refuge. We sin, intentionally and unintentionally, but we as Christians have run to God as Our Protector. But like the person who has sought the safety of the city of refuge, we have to remain in that refuge to escape death or literally to live life without fear for our safety. In terms of our walk, we first ran to God when we first accepted Him as our Savior. To some extent, we all did it escape death but we also did it to live life. Just like the city of refuge represents life for the person, God represents Life for us. (I had to bold, capitalize that one. Because a Life with God is no ordinary life.) But like when the person’s safety becomes compromised as soon as he leaves the city of refuge, our safety as children of God gets compromised when we cease to interact with Him as we should, or leave the walls of His refuge. I thought that was cool little revelation, one I definitely needed to take heed to.
Love you guys,
Before I start I want to say HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY NIGERIA! Cheers to 52 years and many more in store. Today I wore a Nigerian top with blue jeans, a true sign of Nigerian-Americanness.
Okay, on to what I actually wanted to write about. I know Strangeties isn’t a word but I felt like it sounded like what I wanted to say so….deal with it. (That is a symptom of the rebellious nature of the modern woman, which I’m about to talk about. Oh dear, I’m getting ahead of myself.)
So while I was
loafing on Facebook, I came across this post by Dating And Waiting (A fabulous and encouraging resource for single Christians).
I can’t say that I was offended by this message but it was very clear that I am not the woman meant for this man. In the comments there actually girls that were like “Yes! This is exactly what I want” while I immediately became nauseated at the idea of being at home all day and being a slave to domestic expectations. Like I said, great for someone. Else. So that got me thinking about my paradoxical ideals when it comes to dating and my future marriage.
Part of me enjoys the traditional views of marriage and dating. I believe in what the Bible has to say about submitting. I believe a man’s place is at the head of the family, spiritually, physically, and any other -ly that may entail. I believe dating initiative starts with the man. I want to be wooed. I want to do everything in my power to help my future husband be the best man he can be. I want to support him emotionally, spiritually, and any other -ly that may entail. All that good ol courtin your grandparents used to tell me about.
Here’s where I tend to deviate. Just because I want you to be great doesn’t mean I want to lessen my greatness. You have a great job, great. But why can’t I work and do what makes me happy too? As a modern woman, there are a lot of things that might sound contradictory to that above section but seem to work seamlessly in my mind. I’m almost 25, I foresee that I’m going to have to do a lot of things by myself before I do it as a duo. It might seem like pessimism but I have to prepare myself to be able to do whatever needs to be done when it needs to be done without depending on a man. Of course, if a man is there, I’ll be happy to request his help but if not, I still need to be able to do it. (This, however doesn’t concern the practice of changing tires, I will always play damsel-in-distress on that one.) I’m not even sure if any of this is really making sense, nothing ever does outside of my head. As a modern woman, I want to bring a lot to our proverbial table. I want to be an equal in some senses, and a support in others.
I’ll quote the great philosopher Ne-Yo.
I’m a movement by myself, but we’re a force when we’re together. I’m good all by myself, but baby you make me better.
That’s how I feel about me and how a positive relationship would be in my eyes. Quite the yardstrick huh? I just want to be great but part of awesome. Did that make sense? No? Oh sorry. But that’s great thing about God creating so many different types of people. So the right people will be with the right people and they can fulfill the vision or purpose God has for them. Ok. Off to go
apply for pirate jobs do homework.