Monday, July 29, 2013

The Trials of Fatimah- the struggles of an orobo Part 2

“Madam, you are not drinking that thing in this room o!’
“what the hell Fati, what kind of poison did you buy?
“Because of you now, my boyfriend would not come into the room. I am so embarrassed’
I looked up at my roommates glaring at me, Bose, Stella and Ngozi. I was shocked that Stella was a part of this. Did everyone forget that she brought the darn thing. Why was I getting all the heat? Oh yeah… Stella had poured it on my rug but I am the bad guy because I have refused to get rid of it. Rugs are expensive naa. I had scrubbed the spot on the rugs for hours and hours…..well for over ten minutes….. and still the smell has not gone off. Even when I had spread the rug outside, our neighbours had complained. My roommates had threatened to burn the rug, but that would be over my dead obese body before I let them burn my property. I don’t care how badly it smells.

June 25 2005
I Burned the rug and got carpets instead. I could not stand the smell any longer.
June 27 2005
It is noon on a Monday morning and I am having brunch at one of the school diners. The whole place is buzzing with boys and girls eating, laughing and gisting. I am sitting on my own eating my double portion Plate of Rice, Plantain and Chicken, (It’s amazing how I always recall what I had eaten in the past with so accuracy. Story of my Life) 
You know the wonderful thing about being a Jambite (freshman). All the attention. You are new. you are exciting and all the boys are trying to get in your pants. At least for most girls. For me, it was “try not to get noticed and picked on” mode. My room mates and females course mates were all swept up in the rush, being invited for lunch and dinner at the various diners on campus, going for shows and generally having guys visit them. I spent most of my time reading (no, not school books. Novels. I may be fat but I was not a nerd….what a stupid consolation); and blaming all my woes on Agbani Darego.
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Yes Her! Before she won, it was ok to be fat. Men liked women with a little flesh on them. A woman with flesh was considered sexy. Not that I knew any that was considered sexy but I have read Elechi Amadi’s novel the Concubine and at one point, skinny women were usually taunted. (granted it was the married skinny women as it was a sign that their husbands were not taking care of them, but all that is semantics. It still meant skinny women were looked down upon. (sigh) I should have been born in that era) Now Agbani came and Ruined it all!!! Causing all the good-looking guys to desire skinny stick-life figures instead of fuller women like myself. Yeah, I know I sound bitter, but unless you are a freshman with no boy looking at your direction, you would not understand how I feel,
“Hello’
A voice stirred me from my daydream. I looked up to see this lanky bespectacled boy. He was wearing a very ugly ugly (twice for emphasis) check shirt on shoes, but he had some nice shoes. He smiled and I noticed he had very nice set of the teeth. Aside from his ugly shirt and glasses, he was actually a good-looking boy. Why on earth was he talking to me?
“May I join you?” I nod
“I am Tade, 200 level Computer Science. You?
“Fatimah. 100 level International Relations
 (In retrospect, if the movie ‘Jenifa’ had come up in this time, I would probably chosen a name like ‘Savannah’ as my school name. Unfortunately, the movie was not out and I am stuck introducing myself as Fatimah)
Ahaa! I knew you are a fresher. How are you enjoying school so far?’
“Its alrite”
“Good. Good”
 He leaned forward smiling. I was a little taken about by the attention, but I am a girl. I was enjoying myself’
“You are very pretty, Fatimah’
“No, I am not”
 Darn it. Me and my big mouth. A boy calls me pretty and I go ahead and deny it. Genius me, but thankfully he goes on
“Nah you are pretty. In a chubby way. And I like Chubby. Want to have lunch here tomorrow, same time?
At this point, I was speechless. He called me chubby. Not fat, not orobo, but chubby. I think I am in love. I nod my acceptance and he smiled again, shook my hand and left.

I have a date. Me! Fatimah Yusuf has a date. I am finally part of the rush. Woohooo!!!! I need another plate of rice. I cannot contain my excitement! Tomorrow is so far away.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Domestic Abuse:Dont wait until your corpse leave that man!

i have been married for 4 years. i met my husband in the Uk, he was such a nice and lovable person. we hit if off immediately. he never raised a hand on me while we were courting, but i noticed he has a terrible temper. i had my first baby in 2011 and my second baby in 2013. i recently found out last year that my hubby loves to cheat and he likes women a lot, that is the reason he has two facebook account. one one is his real account and the other account he has only females as his friends. 
i managed to access his fb account and saw all his convserations with his women, i confronted him and we had a big fight, he didnt deny it, all he said was that i should be happy he married me and that even if i catch him on top of a woman that i cant do anything. that was when i knew i have many problems i cant deal with. 
to cut the long story short, we visited canada on a short holiday in dec last year and we booked into a hotel, this fateful he was in the shower and his phone rang, i picked up , it was a female voice, she demanded to speak with my husband, i told her my husband is in the shower that she should call back later, she was very rude, i hung up, when my hubby came out of the shower i told him i amswered his call that i told the caller to call back. he was so angry and slapped me. 
i was so shocked i couldnt believe it, i fought back, we fought real hard in the hotel room that day, my nails were my weapons, i made sure i designed his face and neck well. after the fight we went out, and we started the quareel again, he parked the car somewhere and started beating me in the car, cars stopped and people were looking at us, he started the car and speed off. we got to another lonely place , he stopped again and started hitting me, i couldnt fight back and what pained me most was that the kids, my 2 and half old daughter and my 6 months old son were in the car, they were watching but i bet they didnt understand. he said he was going to kill us all today. i just couldnt believe my hubby beat me up cos of a whore. after that, i called his family and they got involved, i couldnt call my family, i was ashamed. his mother talked and also his dad, they advised me to apologise, " apologise for what" his father gave his the trashing of his life. anyway i apologised. 
then a day before we were to return to Uk, he beat me up again for no reason, he went out and left me and the kids in the hotel for more than 7 hours, i called and demanded to know why hes been out for long. he picked and raised curses on me me and i insulted him back.when he returned i knew he was looking for an opportunity to pick quareels i ignored him and slept. on our way to the airport to drop the car we hired, i said to him, that theres a noise this car is making, he ignored me, i said to him, didnt u hear what i said. he flared up, parked the car and gave me the beating of my life, i fought back, after that i cursed him, dont blame me i was angry and mad, he parked again and beat the hell out of me. then i said, i cant deal with this, i told him there!! its over i cant deal with this, once we get to the Uk, am leaving. 
i told him hes nothing but a wife beater. he just stopped the car and looked at me, and started crying !!!! he said he cant explain what happened to him, that he cant even believe he raised his hands and hit me. then i started crying , i really cried out my eyes. we both cried. cos he knows how much i adore and love him and what pained me most was this is a guy do everything for. anyways he swore he will never in his life hit me again. i forgave him. its been 6 months now and to be sincere, maybe he has changed i cant say, but i have noticed a lot of changes in him. we have not quareeled for the past six months but am not banking on that.

The Trials of Fatimah- the struggles of an orobo. part 1

21st June 2013
My name is Fatimah Yusuf. It is a beautiful Saturday Morning. The birds are chirping. The sun is up. There is electricity, so the air conditioner is cooling. And I am still 123 kg.
This is my story, and as you can already guess, my life centers around my weight. Perhaps I should rewind and start from the beginning
1987- 2005
From the time I escaped my mother’s womb, I was marked to be fat. My parents must have seen it coming. Why else would they name me Fatimah. Yeah, I know its meaning is far different but come on! FATimah. I was screwed from the Get Go. My father was an accountant working in Lagos Island. My mother was a full-time house wife raising four kids. His two brother and her sister lived with us in the three bedroom apartment. So it was a really crowded house. The earliest memory I have of my mother is this harried woman, who was always cooking and yelling. I have no memory of my mum just talking. “HASSAN, GET DOWN FROM THAT CHAIR; MOJEED, GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK; Fatimah, LEAVE THAT CAKE ALONE”. Did I mention my dad was an accountant at Leventis? No? Well, my dad was an accountant at Leventis. They made bread and pastries amongst other things and everyday, he brought home this heavenly Sweet Milk Cake. How I loved that cake. I could never get enough of it. Every night, I would get up, light or no light, sneak to the fridge and have my fill of the cake. Initially, my family was puzzled as to how the cake kept disappearing but one day I was caught. My dear father, instead of punishing me, began bringing home two pieces of the cake, one of which was solely mine. Then, I adored him for that. In retrospect, Really Dad? Really?
As you can imagine, I was a chubby kid, but I was active. I didn’t even notice that I was slightly bigger than the other kids. It was a different time. An innocent time. Then, we heard a rumor that a child, who allegedly lived 10 blocks away, was allegedly kidnapped. Now, we never knew if the story was true, but it spread like wild-fire. We were all placed under house arrest. No more playing on the street. With an already over crowded house, playing was increasingly difficult. The boys were able to go upstairs to the Neighbors’ house to play. I instead turned to novels. With my constant sweet milk cake, lack of any physical activity, not to mention the high carbohydrate diet that we had, It was no surprise that I was going heavier every year. Thanks alleged kidnapped girl whom we would never know if you were even kidnapped.
My fat awareness began in secondary school…. Kids are Mean, like really mean. And I was already screwed with my name, so they didn’t really have to dig too far to find creative jabs ‘fat Fatimah’ Fat…………..mah’ Fatty mama’ were a few of the taunts I got in school. It was a miserable time for me. It would have been much better if I was at least super brilliant, but No. As was with my luck, I was just an average student. Yeah, God was not giving me a break. Then there was Ms Stella (Ms Stella, wherever you are today, I hope you have fat giant pimples all over your face and gangrene on your toes. That’s if you are alive. If you are dead, well, I hope you took a hand fan where you are going). Why am I ranting? Ms Stella was my physical Education teacher. Yea, you can imagine just how we got along. She dedicated her time to making sure that my life was hell. For her, I was the prime example of over indulgence with children. During her classes, I was always targeted for first trial. “Fatimah, jump that rope. Fatimah, scale that fence. Fatimah do ten sit ups’. I would more often than not fail and she would always say “This, dear students, is why you don’t spend all your time eating“. Then she would get one of the other skinny girls to show me and the rest of the class how it is done. Yeah, see how appropriate my prayer is now. Gangrene on her thighs too! Now, in this modern era, that would have been bullying, but this was the 90s. Who send you.
Fast forward to 2005, I was now in my first year in the university. I shared the dorm room with three girls. Bose, Stella and Ngozi. I am 5’6 and weighing 98kg. I am about to embark on my first diet. I am super excited and looking forward to it. Stella has sworn on the product, gushing on how her cousin used it and got amazing results. No dieting and No exercise. Just taking the drink everyday for 30 days and I am guaranteed to lose 20 kg. You can imagine my excitement. I doled out 20k of my hard saved money into the drugs (and 20k was no beans for me at all. it took months of saving) She finally brought the drugs for me. I was so excited. We anxiously proceeded to try the drugs. As she opened the first container, a stench which was like a week and a half old dead rat, rotten soup and garlic all mixed as one, permeated the room. Ngozi screamed and ran out of the room. She was asleep at the time so you can only imagine how bad the smell must have been. She was immediately followed by Stella who had dropped the contents on my rug (arrggh!) and ran out screaming and cursing in a language I didn’t understand. I looked down sorrowfully at what I considered my miracle fat cure before the stench overpowered my senses and I wobbled…quickly…..out of the room…..

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Shina Rambo's Bizzare Confessions : I Slept With My Mum, Pounded 27 Babies, Ate 100 Tongues!

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, I was garbed in a pair of jeans, on a pair of Timberland boots, a military sweat shirt, and my JackMoody denim jacket. I had been attacked by men of the underworld the night before whilst we were on production, at the office. So I slung my black Ted Baker satchel across my right shoulder, armed with my camera, my midget, and some other small gizmos.

I was more determined, to embark on this adventure, than ever before. I was headed for the ancient city of brown roofs, Ibadan where a one-time Nigeria’s most notorious and dreaded bandit that ever lived SHINA RAMBO mounted the pulpit to preach!!! What an irony you would say.

Now Mathew Oluwanifemi, Shina Rambo was a name that sent shivers down the spine of people who lived in the South West of Nigeria and even outside Nigeria, like Benin Republic and neighborhood, in the 1990’s. He was a hardened criminal, a terror and killer, one whom men of the security agencies will never forget in a haste!

A man mountain, towering about 6ft 5inch, well built, dark skinned and sweltering eyes, he carried out his operations, like  a movie, in the broad day light, with sophisticated weapons, and bullet belts and explosives strapped roundabout him! He specialized in robbing exotic cars on highways and banks. Nothing could stop him, not even security operatives, he was totally invincible. He was Shina Rambo!

D'banj's Younger SIster, Taiwo & Dotun Cool Fm set to Wed 27th Of July & 3rd Of August

 
Congrats guys.

"A nation of perverts and paedophiles" -by Femi Fani Kayode

The Nigerian Senate includes some of the brightest minds in our country many of whom are friends of mine and most of whom have been in active politics for many years. They have my respect. However what transpired in the Senate chamber a few days ago was a great cause for concern for not just me but millions of Nigerians from all over the world. How an innocent and seemingly uninteresting, uninspiring and unimportant debate about when and at what age a Nigerian citizen could legitimately and lawfully renounce his or her citizenship turned into a referendum on paedophilia and child marriage I dont know. Yet sadly that is precisely what happened and ever since then the nation has been on fire. 
 
Senator (ex-Governor) Ahmed Sani, the Yerima Bakura and the Apostle of political sharia in Nigeria finally got his way and the futile attempt by a small number of good, noble and honourable Senators to amend the existing law on marriage and properly define the age of a female that is eligible to marry was thwarted by the pro-paedophilia, pro-child rape and pro-child marriage group within the Senate. Sadly our distinguished Senators eventually bowed to the will of Yerima and his friends and agreed to remain silent about the age that young girls can get married in Nigeria. What this means is that girls that are as young as 9 years old can continue to be lawfully bedded and married in our country providing they are deemed as being ''physically developed enough'' to do so by their suitors, their prospective husbands and their parents. That is the law and that is the sordid level that we as a people and as a nation have degenerated to over the years.
 

18year old Anna Banner becomes Most Beautiful Girl in Nigeria 2013.


18 year old Anna Ebiere Banner who represented Bayelsa State, has emerged the 2013 Most Beautiful Girl in Nigeria.. The pageant took place in Bayelsa state yesterday evening.
Congrats girl!

Rekiya's tale episode 5

It’s never wise to try to catch two monkeys simultaneously. You end up losing them both. That is, except one monkey is catching the other for you and that one willingly comes back to you to be caught.
When I got home that evening, Fafa had poured us drinks and was waiting in my favorite night robe.
“So inside all the things to wear in this house, it is the one I love the best and would have been coming home to wear myself that you chose abi?” I asked.
“How else will you know I’m here if I don’t?” she retorted. “Now, sit down and take the whole of this glass before I start telling you anything. Trust me, you’re gonna need it.”
Slowly, I let myself into the couch beside her and then gulped down the liquid. It was some concentrated Vodka mix that Fafa never told me what else was inside. It shot like a mini fire down my throat but, yes, it did calm my nerves a little.
“Now that I’m through with whatever poison you mixed, shall I hear this your interesting tale before the poison begins to take effect?” I asked.
“Won’t you change into…” she responded.
“Madam, if you don’t start talking now, just know you’re in my house. I have a secret torture chamber that you’ve never seen.”
She managed to laugh and then began

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Rekiya's tale episode 4

It takes only a little nudge to trigger the creatively evil side in most of us and as I sat there, thinking a million evil thoughts, I knew the correct course of action. So first, I dialed my friend, Farida. We grew up together, but Farida and I were as different as light and dark. I was the plain girl, where she was the hot omalicha nwa. While I worked and made my money myself, Farida had a string of men she called her “bankers” who all worshipped at her feet and with their combined “banking services” made sure she lived an even more luxurious life than I did. If we entered a place and there were ten toasters available, she would get 9.5 (yes, even the one I got would still be eyeing her small small) of them most of the time. In fact, I used to test the seriousness of toasters at one point by simply introducing them to her and seeing if they would switch their attentions to her or not. Of course, they ended up as chasers of two rats – they caught none. In spite of these differences, we were closer than most people thought we were.

Dr Sid steps out with fashionista gf!

  
She is Simi Osomo. very pretty!