So, I invite you guys for quite a bit of stuff, but I don’t show you what happened at a lot of it. But here; a baby step.
So, #TheExcision was on Saturday, the 11th of June, 2016.
Getting there was my major problem. I knew to get on the BRT, take a bus and drop at Lekki Phase 1, but from there, I planned to play it by ear. I wasn’t worried. Not really. But my major problem lay in coordinating my plans with someone else’s.
She’s a friend of mine. I invited her for the programme and she, having had my phone and watched all the videos of Janette…ikz on it, fell like I did, in serious like with her.
When there’s a variable in my plans that I am unaware of, I prefer to go early so I can mumble, jumble, miss my way enough but still get there within time.
I suggested 12 noon, she said 2:30pm, I suggested 2. We agreed she’d call around 2ish. Then I waited, confirmed that I wouldn’t see two of my other friends there etc. And then I almost fell asleep waiting for her call. So I got up, got dressed, and started leaving.
I stopped somewhere and called her. “The MTN number you have dialed is switched off…” I waited and tried again. And after about 25 minutes, I knew I was about to combust with anger so I started walking. Got to Berger and on the BRT, chose a single seat, then her call came through. Where was I?
Then I moved to a double seat, the Ticketer came by, told me my ticket was for Metro not BRT, so I left my stuff and ran back to get a BRT ticket then ran back. By then the BRT was very full, standing room only, my friend wasn’t there and lots of people had come by asking about the seat I’d saved for her. (3:21pm) The driver entered at the same time her call came through. Needless to say, she did not follow me. I got there almost an hour late and I wasn’t happy about it at all. But, despite my irritation, despite my angst, it turned out that the event began late. Lucky me.
Now, you must know this, I primarily went there to see Janette…ikz. All the other spoken word artists I would listen to but Janette was the primary reason I went. The beginning of my puppy dog like was last year. Abuja. Cutie and Chike weren’t around, the others had travelled. My uncle had unlimited Internet. I watched one of her videos; her wedding video and I really liked everything so I watched and watched and watched.
And then I saw about 3 of my friends outside, was talking to someone when I saw a flash of red hair in an afro. I swear, I ran towards it. Literally ran. My thighs reminded me of that run for the next 2 days; I strained a muscle. When I got there I really wanted to give her a massive hug. But I’m not Mikey, and I do have self control. I should have hugged her. I don’t think she’d have pushed me off. #ineedahug. I contented myself with taking multiple pictures of her and the rest of them.
Well, the event went really well. I discovered that when she performed The Whole Truth, which I’ve watched about 60 times, I kinda dissociated. There was an extra verse in this particular one though. I listened to that the hardest.
Good thing I didn’t watch all their videos beforehand. The biggest revelations of the day for me, were Ezekiel Azonwu (@wordsbyezekiel) and Preston Perry (@Preston_n_Perry). I’ve listened to both of the foreign female artists, more to Janette…ikz though and a little bit to Ezekiel. But I’d never listened to Preston before. I’d read his Instagram sermons though and he seemed solid. But he blew my mind. He was the only artist I snapped my fingers for. Not that the others were undeserving. I just felt so attuned to his performances.
On the local spoken word artists, I was really impressed with Plumbline and Gaise. And one woman stood out for me. Atilola herself. I even follow her on Twitter not knowing she was the convener of the entire event. And I’ve binge read her blog before and I loved it. Check it out. Click on the link!
Also, I met someone in real life that’s been a great blogger friend to me. I won’t tell you her name. I’ll just add up a pic of the 2 of us.
I eventually met up with my friend, we shared a plate of small chops, and my Shortbread and my papa came to pick us up. I’d planned to sleep over. Finito. I got a picture of myself with all four spoken word artists but I’m super disgusted that I didn’t even open my mouth to say anything encouraging. I’m ashamed of myself. As simple as that.
But I wouldn’t trade my attendance for a carton of Shortbread and skittles and that’s saying a lot.
I’ve learned to recognize particular days. For instance, there are days when it seems that every car would like to hit me. It’s not an exaggeration, merely a fact. And for a long while, I victim blamed, in other words, I blamed my self for a bit, my way of walking, not crossing the road fast enough. And then I noticed a pattern, whenever these days came around, the drivers of these vehicles were either running red lights, going the wrong way, careening too close to the sidewalk, driving angry or blind or just plain stupid. But the point is that I am always the intended victim of the fallout. I don’t want to tell y’all any long stories. Yesterday, I was running late and my thighs still burned when I walked, so I hopped on a bike to get to the park. It registered only later, but in the thick of Berger traffic, a danfo bus almost collided with my spinal cord. Barely an inch apart. It’s easy to be brave when there’s no immediate danger or when it has passed. Just thank God for my life. I’ve heard and seen too many accidents arising from incidents such as this to take my near miss for granted. The day of course brought some more over adventurous drivers my way, my boss and one other person who almost ran over my leg; this clown who misjudged the space between a parked car and the road and almost splintered my knee, one human being who started reversing without bothering to check the rearview mirror. But hey, Obianuju is safe and happy. Obianuju is fine. Thank God.
So the Sunday before this one that just passed, one of my cousins graduated from Babcock with a degree in Accounting. We went for his graduation and I’m super happy about it.
A couple of weeks back, my boss asked me to go file something at the National Industrial Court and well, I won’t get into the why of it, but he asked me to keep whatever change there was after paying the filing fees and the lateness fees. But here’s the thing, the calculations for the lateness and filing fees we did were way off because the lateness fees were a whole lot smaller than we’d calculated. Which means, therefore that….
I was so happy that day. And so thankful.
I have a confession, I’ve never particularly known how I look. I can take a picture of myself and look at the expression on my face but never really at my face itself. Am I making sense?
Added to that, I don’t use makeup, except lipstick and whenever I’m applying it, I use the mirror on my phone and keep it pointed at my lips. I know I’m attractive, but I’ve never really cared either which way. And my skin tone changes so often, I’m never sure if I’m dark or light skinned. Or how it really matters in the grand scheme of my life.
Also, pretty much everyday, someone would come up to me, commenting as to how much I look like someone else they knew.
Anyway, recently on a car ride, something caught my attention, my face. It’s one thing to know that you’re a “good person”, that you don’t have too many acne battle scars, that you don’t have pointy ears but it’s quite another thing to look at the whole picture and realize that you are in fact, quite beautiful. Outside and in.
This particular post might seem vain to some of you, I know that. But it’s groundbreaking to me.