Goodnight, goodbye – there’s nothing to say

We were in the village for one of those really short Christmas holidays, and my brother was carrying this really cute toddler when I came in. I went over to give the little one a cuddle when I saw that he was scratching my brother’s arm, like really scratching him. My mom came and yanked the child when she saw blood on my brother’s arm, made us all laugh. Found out that the little scratcher was my cousin, one of the three adopted by my Aunty Nwabechie.

Aunty Nwabechie was a widow, the Principal of a secondary school in one of the towns in Anambra, and so I always wondered why it seemed like each year we came home she’d have adopted one more when things weren’t very smooth for her already. But she did. The last time I was in the village she had three adopted children, and her own daughter, Chinyere. And you’d never know which was which, my aunty was good like that.

It was Chinyere’s birthday and my brother went to write on her Facebook wall. And instead of birthday greetings he sawRIP all over the place. One of the messages said she and her mom died in the Benin/Ore tanker+Dangote cement truck explosion on the 5th of April. So he rang my dad. Wasn’t a hoax.

Chinyere, Olunna, Nmesoma, Ebuka, and my aunty Nwabechie died in that fire, they were on the way back to the village from Lagos. Everyone. An entire family. The name. Why do these things happen? Everyone died?

Last time I chatted with Chinyere on the phone she asked me for a blackberry and I told her I’d get her one. Didn’t get a chance to give it to her. She was in her final year at university. I feel horrible about that.I could have given her o, Chinyere come and take mine. Just come back. All of you. Please.

Fire. What a horrible, horrible, horrible way to die. The fear, the anguish. Nmesoma wasn’t more than five. I wonder how scared he must have been. I wonder about all of them. Did they hug themselves goodbye? Did they have time? Or was it all terror?

What a waste. I know how difficult it was for aunty to pay her fees at some point. I know. Was it all for nothing?

How do I even cry? Have I cried enough? How do I be strong when my heart is full of pain? Where do I shelve this pain? How much can one person deal with at once?

This is too much. One disaster too many.

They couldn’t even find their bodies to bury. You’d think that for a family that just got wiped out they’d at least get a decent funeral. Fire doesn’t think that way, didn’t leave anything.

Do I blame my people for hiding it from me? I wouldn’t have been able to take it then. I can’t take it now. How does one take these things? Is there a way? I’m all cried out.

Do I question God? Aunty was one of the most devout people I know. God sees all and knows all, did He see this one?

Je nke oma aunty, Chinyere, Olunna, Nmesoma, and Ebuka. Goodnight.

I don’t know what to do. There’s got to be more.

 

Avoiding heartache in business….

One of my favorite TV Series is Hustle – a group of five con men (Albert, Stacey, Danny, Ash, and Mickey) who function as a modern Robin Hood crew. Exacting judgement n greedy, dubious businessmen, they operate under a set of rules, first of which is, “you cannot cheat an honest man’. Flip side to that is, “when someone wants to gain something for nothing, give them nothing for something”.

Apart from crushing heavily on Mickey (Adrian Lester) and his ‘out-of-this-world’ smile, I love Hustle because each episode exposes me to the different ways people bring heartache upon themselves by trying to reap where they have not sown, make ridiculous profits, or even worse, defraud the next man. Are the Hustle team righteous? Of course not; evil cannot cancel out evil, and two wrongs don’t make a right. Still love them though!

Away from Hustle, I have two rules for avoiding heartache in business. These two nuggets are guaranteed winners long as they’re applied exactly as prescribed.

1. There is social media and the ‘miracles’ it will work for your business as far as publicity and advertising are concerned. There is also something called a work ethic, without which both the social media platforms, and the business will fail. Unfortunately today young business owners spend more time tweeting and facebooking about their businesses than actually getting any work done.

Quick example: a friend of mine had a business and is quite active on social media promoting it; we’ll call her A. Recently, another friend (call her B) tweeted about needing the service A offers so I introduced them on Twitter. Two days after B tweets that A kept her waiting for four hours and she’s never using her service again.

Social media – good work ethic + all the recommendations in the world = heartache, brought on by failure.

2.Much as you can, avoid doing business with family, especially in parts of the world where ‘family’ is exalted over professionalism. I’ve written about landlords letting their property to family and the drama that goes with that, but I have a personal example now.

My family needed a service, and contracted two different companies to provide it – three items from Company A, and three items from Company B (who we’re distantly related to).

Company A delivers on schedule; on inspection the goods are of a good quality, and there is evidence that they used their initiative. Company B is paid in full, yet the goods are two weeks late. There are major errors in one during the draft inspection so it’s sent back.

48 hours to when these goods will be used, they’re yet to arrive, and the representative is unreachable. Several calls without any response and then by 5pm the representative picks up and says, “I’m in fellowship please, you’re calling my Galaxy Tab and its ringtone is loud”.

Took all of me (and some) to be civil and for a few reasons

• How was I to know you were in church? If you’d had picked up the entire day we’d been ringing your phone, or had the decency to return the calls….
• I have one number for  you. What other way should I have tried to reach you? Seance? Mind travel? By the way, I’m excited you have a Galaxy Tab, SMH.
• Why didn’t you just deliver when you said you would?

This rep sent someone to deliver the goods the day before they were to be used (didn’t have the courtesy to bring them personally or even send a delivery/quantity note), and you can bet they were substandard. What did we do? Nothing. Why? Family. Will we use Company B’s service again? Not even if our lives depended on it!

There you have it! Thank me later…

Related articles

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When to stay and work, or just let go…

If you read my ‘I have a dream‘ post, beyond my hopes and dreams for this blessed country Nigeria you’d see that for most of my life I’ve wanted to be different things. Before I go on I must thank my parents for putting up with all of them, and supporting me every step of the way.

I’ve wanted to be a doctor (thank God for my unique JAMB score that convinced me medicine wasn’t for me), I’ve wanted to be a tailor (after getting frustrated severally by tailors), and yes, I’ve wanted to be a bead maker (I actually took classes for this). Let’s talk about the beads for a minute shall we?

It was early 2007 (the year of the famous driving lessons). I was in Port Harcourt, back from Ibadan, and desperately in need of activities to occupy myself with while I waited to serve (NYSC). By the way, I’d resigned my job as a banker Christmas of 2006. I woke up one morning and said I wanted to learn to make beads. I talked about it all night, all day, and by the next night my dad had found a lady who taught classes. I was under her tutelage for a month, and then I collected ‘capital’ from my dad to buy beads and start my business.

I sold a couple o, and then it was Mother’s Day. I made three beautiful sets (with the best of my beads) to give the older ladies I admired in church and I remember my dad asking, “with all these gifts you’re giving when am I going to start getting returns on my investment?” Suffice to say he’s still waiting on that return today because after a while I became content with making stuff only for myself. Bless you Daddy!

Back to the ‘letting go’ title of today, sometimes we find that things that used to excite us don’t excite us anymore. Quick example – I was hooked on Chicken Royale (with extra cheese) from Burger King and I lived for days when I’d just pop in and treat myself. I weighed myself in September though and what I saw on the scales all but killed that craving! I haven’t had one (or any other burger) since then. Not cos I don’t like them, but because there are ‘bigger’ things at stake. Ahh!

What is suffering because you’re putting up with something/someone you should let go off? Could be work, family, career development/growth or maybe your own happiness you’ve staked for something that doesn’t/shouldn’t rank as high?

Note that I’m not telling you to become a quitter – walk away once people/things don’t work out instead of trying to fix them – not at all. Of course you should try. Satisfy your conscience that you’ve put in your best, and then let it go. Simple. According to my mom, “there’s no need postponing the evil day, pull off the plaster already.”

So, if it’s not working, if it’s causing you more grief than it’s giving you happiness, if your safety is being compromised and you cannot fix it regardless of how hard you’ve tried, let it go.

Seriously.

RE: GTB, my card is here!

Whoop!!!

My Guaranty Trust Bank (GTB) ATM card is here! Finally!

In case you  missed the very sad story on my ‘ordeal’ with the Bloomsbury branch of Guaranty Trust Bank in Abuja, it is here.

So, I published the story the day after I got back into London, and there were retweets, comments, all of that; the solidarity was incredible. Maybe because I’m a good person (big smile) or seriously, maybe because there are quite a few people with a chip on their shoulder for GTB. Judge for yourself from the comments.

Anyway, from the day the post went up, different GTB officials got in touch, and said they’d send the card to me.

Long story short, my card arrived in the post yesterday. Whoop! A few pictures…

Old card…. can finally be laid to rest.

The new card… Plus a
‘love letter’ from GT, was thinking they’d compensate me for the ‘trauma’ I suffered sef.

The parcel…. Whoop!

I’m particularly thankful to Pauline (TSG, Abuja), Onyeka (Abuja), Olaniyi (Lagos), and especially Bukola from the Victoria Island branch who made it a point of duty to keep calling and updating me on the activities to sort me (and the card) out.

Thank you so much!

Final word? Dear GTB, I am a trained social media strategist with varied levels of experience (including catering to really large numbers). I’m happy to design a training module for your social media team, they could really do with a few tips to be honest. You have my number!

 

 

Tales from driving school…

Ok, so like every other human being I have a tendency to forget. I don’t forget birthdays or anniversaries if I can help it but I tend to forget other stuff (even fairies aren’t perfect)

Big example: on Friday (exactly one week today) I was on my couch editing articles writing a few, responding to emails, just getting through my pile of work for the day Next thing about 1:15pm my phone rings and it is my driving instructor.

D.I – hi Chioma! I’ve been trying to find your house. It is the one with the barriers isn’t it?

FGS – Yep! What’s up? Is there a problem?

D.I – You have a driving lesson for 1pm today! I’m just a few minutes late because I had a little trouble finding the place.

FGS – oh! I’ll be right down!

I totally forgot! Don’t blame me too much though, I booked this lesson first in February, and then changed the date for this first class in the first few days of March. That’s a month ago (and some), ample time for my mind to get clogged with other matters!

Why am I taking driving lessons now? Not like I didn’t take them before o, it’s just that I learned to drive with a manual car, but once I drove my first automatic, I never looked back. And because of a little incident with my final driving lesson, it was easy to forget to drive stick-shift cars.

I mean, life is hard enough - why add the turmoil of the clutch/accelerator/gear change business to it? It’s already a lot to look in all the mirrors, drive for yourself and the people around you (especially when you have traffic and crazy drivers to contend with), and yet enjoy the ride!

Quick digression: Asaba, 2006 or 2007. My darling father had gotten me a driving instructor. We’d done very well over a short period but we all know the test of a good driver is how well they can reverse.

Funnily, I did well with that too, and then after a while I got cocky. I started reversing round a tree. Yup. I know, I can imagine what you’re thinking. Each time I came full circle, I’d step on the gas a little more. Till I ran into a parked car in the compound, and sent shards of her headlights flying.

Dad heard the crash and soon as he confirmed I was fine (and I had stopped crying, lol), he sent me back to continue driving. I’m grateful he did that because every time I remember that incident now I remember that I drove right after that, and I feel a lot better. And I haven’t run into anything or anyone since then.

Back to why I’m taking lessons. I need to pass a theory and practical driving test to get a license, and I plan to get all these done before my birthday in May.

My progress card…. Seriously!

The clutch and brakes in the passenger side of the car we’re using for the lessons. Very cool…. And a handy safety precaution!

My instructor is a great, patient guy, and I know I won’t get ahead of myself this time.

Gotta go now, it’s time for my class!

Related articles

• How could I forget? (mandalaartcentre.wordpress.com)
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Try a little tenderness!

Don’t know if I prefer Jay Z and Kanye West’s version of the ‘Otis‘ song better than the original – some of the bars are interesting, but there’s something very ‘feel goodish’ about the old school version.

‘Try a little tenderness‘ is the focus of my chronicle today. It’s easy for us to be nasty when we feel we’re in a higher position than the next man – we act like we are bestowing favors when we manage to be courteous to people who appear to have less favourable circumstances than we do. Why do we think kindness/courteousness/chivalry should be alien to employees, servicemen, and people in general? It’s shameful, and the reason why, respect her work as I do, this article by Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani disgusted me to no end.

I’ve spent the last two weeks in the Eastern part of Nigeria, and suffice to say I’ve had a great time with my family (chronicle on that will be ready soon) and I’ve gotten a lot of stuff done that I’m happy with.

Went to the airport with Momma this morning, checked in, and when my flight was announced, kissed Momma and went to board.

Walking towards my seat at the rear and there was this guy trying to fit a large hand luggage piece into the overhead locker. Even a two-year old could tell the box wouldn’t fit so I don’t get why he kept at it.

Now, the plane is a DASH 8 Q400, so it’s one of the much smaller planes, with a capacity for just over a hundred people (if I counted the seats right). Plus, it has the tiniest conveniences ever! I’m five feet six or so and I was almost literally bending over! If you’re taller than I am and you’re flying … to any of the less popular destinations, chances are you’ll have a tiny plane too so do your business before you board. And thank me later.

Back to the guy with the luggage. There was an air hostess beside him (trying to get through to her station), and unknown to him in trying to fit in his luggage he was hitting her head with it.

She told him he wouldn’t be able to fit his stuff in (since his brain didn’t register it) and told him to take the luggage out so it could be tagged and stowed. To my surprise and utter irritation he starting shouting at her! He said stuff like she shouldn’t hurry him, he’s doing her job, etc.

She tried to explain that his hand luggage was his responsibility and it really wasn’t going to fit but he wasn’t having none of it, preferring to raise his voice and talk down at her. When she mentioned she needed to get through and the box was hitting her head, he called her names and continued with the ‘if you had done your job right my luggage would be stowed already’ line.

At this point she turned and walked away, and returned with a supervisor who told the ma to take his luggage out for it to be tagged. Guess what? He did! So what was all the ruckus about earlier? Did he have to raise his voice, or call her names? No.

I would have been totally embarrassed if  I knew this fellow so you can imagine the look on my face when he said hello to me later and asked my name. Shaking my head! This type will easily hit a woman. Baby animal, lol.

To my mind, it’s a lot easier to be nice, to be courteous, and worst case scenario, to be civil. I made a conscious decision immediately to be nicer to everyone I meet; do you think you could do that too?

Hugs, and welcome to a new month!

P:S – written on the 25th of March 2013.

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Still on speaking out….

A couple of weeks ago I wrote on Speaking Out and I said that if we were intended to exist without each other it would have been one person per continent or country. But, we need each other to survive, and it is foolishness to suffer in silence when help is just a phone call or conversation away.

I had cause to ‘walk that talk’ recently. I had to seek help with some work and it was such a learning experience I thought I’d share so you would have a practical example. Also so that you wouldn’t just relate that post to mental or emotional issues, it applies to just about every aspect of our lives.

I’m particularly happy about this because simple as it is (now that I know better obviously) I could have decided to go it alone, and probably made mistakes in a more public place.

Ok, so I had to hand in an article as part of my Future Challenges commitment, and the more I wrote, the more it occurred to me that it was becoming a satirical piece. I finished writing it, loved it (how do you not love the work of your hands), and I was going to hand it in when I told myself it would be nice to get it vetted first.

I decided to send it to a friend who would know, and who I’d seen critique other forms of writing (fingers in the air if you’re an Abuja person and you ever attended GAP meetings). I rang @Elnathan (of the famous ‘How To’ Series), and he graciously agreed to have a look.

In 24 hours he’d sent it back (whoop), and it was my very first lesson in writing satire! I was so chuffed by the experience I saved some of the notes he made on the work and just feel like sharing them with you!

• …..The whole idea of satire is that you assume that the ridiculous situation is. Using quotation marks weakens the satire – it is a bit like seeing the camera man’s hands while watching a movie.
• Use only three dots for ellipsis (I’m always guilty).
• Remove the quotation marks in ‘illustrious’. Remember, in satire, you mean the ridiculous things you say. The exaggerations, and sarcasm employed for effect are taken seriously and done without apology.

That article ‘My new chosen career’ has since gone live for FC and I’m very happy!

Moral of the story? There’s nothing wrong with first acknowledging that you don’t know something, finding someone who’s more knowledgeable than you are, and then swallowing your pride enough to ask for their help! No shame in that at all; matter of fact, you’ll be better for it.

Toodles!

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Thank You’s – you knew I would do this didn’t you?

On the 7th of March, I boarded a BA 083 to Nigeria, Abuja to be precise. The trip was the culmination of about five months of work on a series my father wrote. The ‘God Wants You’ series explores God’s plans for different aspects of our lives and guides on how we can live out those plans and promises.

Working with Lordbanks, my friend and Chief Technical Officer of CC Consulting, we coordinated the proofreading, cover  and website designs, concepts for the books and the launch, and a bit of logistics too. Lordbanks flew in and was a great help on the day, and I’m just so grateful for friends/business partners that have become family.

I’m also very grateful to the Local Organizing Committee for being such pillars of support to my parents. For attending meetings, fundraising, being literally at this beck and call, you won’t ever lack people to stand by/for you o! I will err if I started mentioning names and miss out on any so can I express my thanks to the Chairman of the LOC for everyone? God bless you richly!

To everyone who came in on the day of the launch, from far and wide, you are all amazing! I’m so grateful you turned up to honor and support your own. To my foster grandparents, Papa and Mama Diai, even in your frailty you made it down… Just remembered the tears that flooded down Momma’s face when I led Papa Diai into the hall, precious memories. Thank you Mama and Papa for loving us, we love you too!

To my Pastor and Father in the faith, Pastor Goodheart Obi Ekwueme, God sent me to you/you to me. Thank you for every word of encouragement, every word of prayer; you are the definition of the word ‘shepherd’. And thank you for writing that very powerful foreword! God bless you and your family richly!

A very big thank you to my friends who stood by me when there was so much to do it nearly drove me mad! Thank you for being ever-present sources of warmth and encouragement. To my darling Wumi, the best friend anyone could ask for, the one to whom I am ‘Ada Obosi’, and to Ace, thank you!

To my sister (Inne), brothers (Kizaro and Qintaro), and our #Ogaatthetop himself (Boo Boo), we’re such a team! You guys are the lights in my sky, thank you for being there and helping out (in person or in spirit, or by just being the reason we smiled at the end of really long days)! There’s only one way people – UP!

To my Momma, nne m oma! The glue holding everything and everyone together, our prayer warrior (with direct access to God’s hotline), thank you for being you! For smoothening all the rough edges, cooking all those wonderful protein based meals for me (team rock hard body), and for worrying (the way only you can), you did a lot more to help than you think you did. And we love you to the moon and back! We do!

To the Patriarch himself! The author of the first six in the ‘God Wants You’ series (Boss! Who else writes six at a go), the ‘builder’, and the best father anyone could ask for, we did it! They can’t hold you back! You’re bigger, better, and this is just the beginning! (Thank you Daddy for running the generator a lot more than you’d do normally so I wouldn’t die from the heat, and especially for coming into my room every night the power came back on just to switch on my air-conditioning.) You’re a star! Love you plenty!

To God, for life, love, family, and all the beautiful things in-between, receive all the thanks, praise and adoration; today, and forever.

Whoop!

GTB and Me: short story.

I’ve been a Guaranty Trust Bank customer since 2003, just under thirteen years. A child born then would have started their period or had their first wet dream, depending on their gender. To be honest, I got the account because a close family friend worked there, and in the days when ATM’s weren’t popular, it was easy to ‘check my balance’ anytime I wanted.

Moved from one account to five in 2o10, needed the domiciliary accounts because I was going to school. Since then I’ve fallen in and out of love with GTBank several times and I’m almost equating my relationship with them to being in an abusive relationship I’m gathering the willpower to leave.

Some days I’ve found out my account was frozen (for the most silly, unfathomable reasons) when I tried to use my card, other days their ‘system was down’, while on some other days the card would just be declined, on a well-funded account. Each time I’d have to call, stay on hold (you know the drill), exchange emails, and not get anything sorted till I yelled. And then I’d feel bad about it later.

But, I have stayed. Why? Cos even with their cumbersome token business, theirs is the only Nigerian internet banking system I use, and so far, so good. Plus, being able to use my Naira card abroad is just brilliant. Saves me both time, and charges with transfers to my accounts here.

Today though, I’m livid.

I traveled to Nigeria on the 7th of March, got in early in the morning on the 8th. Same day, I went to GTBank situated in Bloomsbury Plaza, in Wuse 2, and asked for a new ATM card. My card would expire in April, my ticket back to England was dated 01-04-2013 (also known as the 1st of April), and I didn’t want to take any chances with it not being ready.

I spoke with Jimoh Ojo, a Customer Care Representative, and explained that I needed the card before the 1st because I needed to travel with it. He said I didn’t need to make a request for it, that my card would automatically be sent to Abakaliki, Ebonyi State, where the account was opened. I had no business there and I said so, and so he said to request a new card, I would be charged for it, and it would take eight days, during which the card I had would be disabled. I agreed, filled out a form, and left.

Traveled to the East a couple days after, got back to Abuja on Monday, and visited the bank on Wednesday the 27th of March to pick up the card. To start with, I had to stand and wait for the said Customer Care Representative to finish taking pictures of his colleague, then the female beside him asked what I was there for. I told them and after I wrote out my account number on a sheet of paper they provided, Jimoh Ojo said (very calmly), “your card would have been sent to Abakaliki”.

I nearly passed out. With all the pains I took to get to the bank on the 8th just to avoid this, and all the advice I was given? GTBank had NINETEEN (19) days to provide a card they claim is ready in 8 days, and what do I hear? With all the civility I had left, I explained the events of the 8th, expressed my displeasure and then he said, “let me see if the card was sent here”. Of course it wasn’t there. To check if the card had really been sent to Abakaliki, and I was told, “the system is down”.

Anger. Frustration. Disgust. Especially when they started on the ‘don’t be offended please’. Really? I should be ecstatic and probably buy you roses for not doing your job? I was going to sit and wait for the ‘system to come back up’ but he promised to sort it and let me know (plus I had so much to do) so I left. To be fair, he called later that evening, but only to say the system was still down. *sigh*

Thursday the 28th of March was the last working day before Easter, nothing. No word, no card.

I returned to England yesterday, without my ATM card, and bile in my heart, especially since when I tweeted about it, the silly person behind GTBank’s Twitter account sent me the generic, spam type message – Hi, our sincere apologies. Please contact us via careonline@gtbank.com with details of this issue. Thank you- they send to every tweet they’re mentioned in (I’m sure if I checked well they’d give that reply to a greeting as well).

Not due in Nigeria till Christmas time so dear Guaranty Trust Bank, what do I do? I’ll rephrase; what are you going to do?

SOUPS, TEES, ONE OF THOSE DAYS…

I decided to pop to Etisalat’s friendship center to renew my data plan and so I got in a taxi, and we headed for the office around Omega Plaza. Got out of the cab, and dongle in hand I walked up to the security guards only for one of them to ask me, “madam did you come to pay for your internet”? Before I could roll off a ‘no I came to confirm the color of your hair and uniform’ answer, I saw a sign saying that branch was shut down temporarily for renovation and to visit the branches at Ceddi, Silverbird or at the Hilton. To think I left the Hilton less than an hour before. *Sigh*

I turned and walked back to the road to stop a cab, only for a car to pull up and two guys asked me to ride with them. In my early 20’s I would have been flattered, but now? Naaaah! Let’s not even talk about security…

Now I decided to head to Ceddi Plaza because I haven’t been in about three years. On the drive there I noticed a new Sahad Stores; really tall building – obviously the one in Area 11 has really been profitable…

Then there used to be (because I don’t know if it is still there) a joint I knew as ‘under the mango tree’, to the left of Ceddi. Affordable, really tasty food, and back in the day there was literally no one you wouldn’t meet there! I remember driving there with a friend once during the Ramadan fast; the normally bustling, ‘ants-to-sugar’ type place was deserted!  How did we forget the people who ran the place are Muslim?

Anyway, I got into the Etisalat friendship center, and told one of the staff what I wanted to do. I was getting two plans that would cost N16, 000. When he finished activating them and I paid, he said, ‘next customer’ and I asked if they didn’t give receipts for payment. He said I didn’t ask. Really? I have to ask? What if I got home and instead of the 12GB of data I paid for I saw 6GB? How would I prove that I paid for 12? He said ‘madam I don’t forget faces’. I wasn’t impressed at all. Suffice to say I collected a proper receipt and ensured there were duplicates too.

I decided to just look around Ceddi, see what stores were still there from my last visit, and what new ones had cropped up. Entered one lingerie store with absolutely ridiculous prices. There were items from La Senza that cost more than double the original price (not forgetting that La Senza has one sale or the other on at least nine out of the twelve months of the year), and more befuddling, items from Primark for the same price! Haba!!

Reminds me of a particular Zara bag retailing for £80 and daughters of Eve sold the same bag for N60, 000, that’s double and some! A friend of mine had made a part payment, had cause to visit, saw the original price of the bag, and bought two! Still makes me laugh till today, but I digress.

Back to Ceddi. I left that store, and walked past two ladies glaring at me (this unmerited ‘beef’ we females have for each other will only be explained in heaven) and walking towards Bon Café, I looked in at the restaurant on the right and saw a man eating what appeared to be semo/rice flour/eba/whatever. I had to take a call so I stopped walking. Next thing he sipped from a teacup and from his mannerisms, whatever he was drinking was hot! I quickly moved on.

Last stop was Spar, where I got a small pack of cherry tomatoes for N1, 014. They were juicy and very sweet though, so I guess I’ll ignore the price.

I had to go home afterwards, and that’s where this post ends!

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